#him not being able to find words and having to rely on OTHERS to guess correctly

[year2000electronics]

I absolutely LOVELOVELOVE your Reverse Falls HCs from what I've seen :). I would love to ask more about so much aspects haha.

What is Reverse Ford's main goal in this universe?

What is Ford' and Stanley's backstory?

Mind sharing some info about Reverse! Dipper and Reverse! Mabel?

HOKAY. i will use this ask to talk a little about the reverse stans' backstories because i have Some Ideas. as always full answer under cut bc its got images and rambles galore

in my mind, the gleeful family association with magic & the supernatural starts with caryn's phone psychic business, and ford having "The Gift" while stan ABSOLUTELY doesnt. but in real terms that means just having a really strong intuition and being able to guess well. (at least thats what filbrick and caryn thing. ford genuinely thinks he has some semblance of psychic ability and so does his mom, but they just havent properly honed it yet) and so ford is the preferred child for that, instead of his smarts really. ford is also obsessed with the supernatural still, but it's more focused on the magical aspect.

ford and stan's relationship ends up being close because stan is the only one who believes ford about magic. i mean there are other reasons but thats very important to ford

ford, seeing how stan has always had his back by believing what he says about magic, offers to try and "tutor" stan into having The Gift. drilling him for hours by holding up cards and making him guess, stuff like that. but yknow, since both of them are kinda clamoring to inherit their mom's business, stan kinda ends up relying on ford for everything, and theyre taking on almost a mentor-student relationship when theyre Literally Brothers.

instead of west coast tech, the scholarship ford is being offered is for a famous performing arts school after his teachers saw him take the leads in school plays year after year. they tell him a scout will be at their school's talent show, and ford decides he's going to put on a stage magic show (with stan as his assistant). this time, not only is stan worried about ford leaving, but also, since they've both been working towards a really similar thing (performing for a crowd), he's really worried he'll never get a chance to show off that HE has skill, too! ford brushes him off about this saying that he'll put a good word in for stan when he's at performing arts school and stan is like "ok." and agrees to be his assistant.

in the middle of ford's show, he goes rogue, trying to show the scouts that he can be just as skilled as ford is, and completely screws up the trick he ends up performing. ford doesnt get that internship, ford is furious, so is filbrick, stan gets kicked out, you know the rest.

ford goes to backupsmore and double-majors in both theatre and whatever he majors in in the show. he plans to move to gravity falls because of its high ratings of weirdness. after stan got kicked out, instead of becoming a traveling salesman, he becomes a street magician who doubles as a pickpocket. stealing peoples' watches and stuff. he runs around all over the place

ford digs up four mystic amulets once he gets to gravity falls and stays there for a while, and is like "oh man i can USE these". so how i imagine the amulets to work is that they're kinda like, a conduit through which you can learn legit magic? like casting spells and stuff. but he probably only needs one so he keeps the other three in his house (and that's how the kids eventually find the others)

and of course thats how he starts up the tent of telepathy!

but he wants more. he wants to make the world pay for ever calling him a six fingered freak. and he wants to prove to the world that his magic IS real. he can't just lie sequestered in gravity falls forever. so he goes hunting for more answers about gravity falls' weirdness, and how he might be able to get more POWER to make a show so good the entire world will see... and that's how he summons will cipher! will tells him about the portal, and how itll open up a dimension of weirdness into his own, and ford accepts on those terms, looking out just for himself. then he asks fidds to come help with the portal, fidds walks out on him, he shackles will to him in a deal, but they both realize they don't have the manpower to run the portal. reluctantly, ford calls stan up, telling him to come and that it's important.

...but of course that doesnt go well. stan initiates a physical fight and ford ends up getting sucked into the portal. will is left alone with stan, who tells him he can buzz off because HE certainly doesnt want him around. stan works for the next 30 years to get ford back because he wants ford to finally be the one who has to suck up to HIM and owe HIM something.

at some point, mason and mabel's parents become unable to take care of them and give them to stan. he reluctantly takes them in, but soon after, not only do they find the amulets but also journal 2, and they end up reactivating ford's deal with will, getting passed down to the "next of kin" after stan rejected it. AND THATS SORTA WHERE THE SHOW STARTS. THUMBS UP.

[sunnykeysmash]

if cursed had the characters suffer horrific scenarios, then what scares dennis the most is just being misunderstood, which is pretty much already what he goes through

[redcherrykook]

── .˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗ TENSION DEGREE 05

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College roomate!Jungkook x college roomate!reader- fwb 2 Lovers

text messages here

You find yourself having to share your room with a very sexually active medical science major who so happens to fancy you. Good thing he´s as charming and spontaneous as you, leading to many crazy parties and places you probably should not be hooking up at. When Jungkook started ignoring all his booty calls after accidentally calling someone by your name, unable to fuck away the thought of you, he knew he was cooked. Would he really leave his playboy antics for that sweet company of yours?

series- five!

content: mild slow burn- fwb2l, roomates, mutual pining, player jungkook that falls devoted to reader, cocky!JK, Confident!reader, psychology major reader, banter, parties, lots of smut (duh), only one bed trope, skinny dipping, roadtrip vibes

episode- warnings: sexual content, feelings of shame and jealousy

Taglist: @khadeeeeej @ot7stansthings @whoa-jo @smoljjks @stvrlighytt @nono13bnd @jungshaking @junniesoleilkth @deepikhaprakash @rockstryoon @tatamicc @jjeonjjk7 @kookieandjoonberries @jcrl99 @httpjeonlicious @wnteraezz @aphrodyteeth @miniesjams32 @emojkoo @katie-tibo @user-190811 @massivebearharmony @hoseokteardrop @hoseoksluv89 @hoseoksluv90 @kooksdreamer

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you weren't different.

Stupid,

You thought, immediately recognizing a grip on reality returning after witnessing the familiar rocking of the bed against the wall,

You weren't different,

The precious groans and words of affirmation he uttered when looking down at your vulnerability, they weren't more genuine, more exclusive with you

You could hear them being said to this other girl after all, hearing and recalling every noise,

Probably able to guess what made him elicit these noises

Even when you're standing in the kitchen, making dinner for yourself and none other than the man inside your bedroom

Unknown, this feeling of disappointment is really unknown to you.

Why were you disappointed in the first place?

He never agreed to be exclusive. Why would he be?

You're not dating, and after all, he's still Jungkook

Maybe it was the letdown after falling for the sweet lie of finally being worth treasuring you, you and you alone

Jungkook didn't do anything wrong by continuing to do something he never agreed to stop doing in the first place.

You sigh, writing a note next to the pan of stir fry

Then, you leave the house, finding escape in your studies, just like you always did

Just like he should be too, that had been the plan for a couple days now,

Instead, he´s busying himself with something more suited to his enjoyment, fucking someone in place of sticking with his best friend.

great.

Jungkook, on the other hand, looks down at the woman beneath him,

Concentrated on the pressing feeling of his release nearing,

He utters some words he's so used to saying, unsure who he is even saying them to,

To be fully honest, he's not looking at their face either

He's deep in thought, thinking of the way you were wrapped around his dick just last night,

The sole reason for him agreeing to this quick fuck was to prove it to him,

Prove himself that he wasn't utterly obsessed with you, your body, the way you managed to make him adore you,

Prove that his ability to have a boner didn't rely on his best friend being near him in any way,

At this point, even your voice, hell, even your vanilla musk scent was enough to make him cum,

Maybe that's why he chose to change the sheets first, getting the slightest inhale of your homey smell

His eyes fall shut, trying his best to drown out the noise of whoever is beneath him,

He's a jackass, a total bastard for using this poor girl to reassure his stupid ego,

Just to fail in the end,

"god y/n fuck.." he mutters,

Everything freezes for a second,

There isn´t a mistake, a hallucination like he had hoped it had been once he saw the poor girls reaction

"What?" She stutters, scooting up under him, tears brimming at the corners of her eyes,

He sighs, stuttering while running his hands down his face, sitting at the edge of the bed

Fucking embarrassing.

Fucking heartless, a nice girl, fallen victim to Jungkooks reckless behavior

Did he seriously call someone by your name while being deep into them?

Yes, yes he did and there is no denying it.

"Look i- i'm sorry.. please get out okay? I'm sorry" without knowing what else to say, he averts her hurt expression

She laughs, anger boiling beneath the aggressive snatch of her clothes that she throws over easily,

deprived of another word to spare for him, she leaves

Rightfully so

Leaving him alone to sit in shame and disbelief,

and many, many thoughts he had been trying to avoid

(txt message insert for the next part to flow better!)

"I don't understand how I'm supposed to memorize all this" he groans, smashing his head back into the thick biology book

"Let me see" you push his head to the side, he lays flat on his cheek, soft eyes looking up at you

Remembering what what happend earlier when he was laid in bed with a pretty girl he didn't know the name of,

He could only remember yours, rolling off his tongue ever so smoothly

Replying to your messages as if he had been, indeed, in the middle of something when really,

all he did was lose his mind over you.

"I guess you could write sticky notes and hang em up around the house?" your nose crinkles with a small laugh,

"It really is a lot" you continue, humming and resting your head on your hand

Jungkook sighs, smashing his head against the book one more time before speaking,

"I could but, that's so fucking nerdy"

You roll your eyes,

"Ah yeah, can't get a boner when a girl's over if all you see is organ failure key points"

He snorts, pushing your shoulder with his fist,

He wouldn't have any girls over anymore, although he can't tell you that,

When his phone dings the next time, he had decided to call off his hook-ups

All this time, quick, phyisical satifaction was all he had known and, in all honesty,

It was enough.

Love, the real, head twisting, gut wrenching type,

The times that make you wait like an idiot for a text, make you spend your money on someone else's happiness and only being able to know their body, theirs only,

It's too forgein, too complicated,

Jungkook thought so, bothersome and over the top

Until, for the first time, that is all he wanted.

To know every little thing about your responses, your bodies little secrets, to be the only one that gets to touch your skin,

To listen to your idiotically long voice messsges,

He found that maybe, waiting for your text and spending extra money because you preffered purple grapes over green ones,

Maybe it wasn't as annoying

Maybe commitment isn't as crazy unimaginable,

It is however, a hundred percent more scary than anticipated

His stomach drops when his phone does ding,

"Oh? Gonna leave to get your dick wet?"

he groans, typing out his responses with sweating hands,

Shit, would he really be able to keep this up?

"No bunny, stop acting like sex is all i care 'bout, it's getting old" he says,

You keep annotating the notes while talking to him, hoping that he wouldn't actually leave

"I think i have every right after you almost ditched me"

His phone shuts off and is placed back on the table,

Suddendly, you feel his palm feel it's way up your exposed thigh, pressed firmly on the uncomfortable library seat,

"Awhh.. i'm sorry princess, keep being so jealous it turns me on"

The color rushes to your cheeks, embarrassingly so while your jaw tightens,

"Kook, it´s too risky here" you whisper, feeling his fingers dance along your upper thigh, moving dangerously close to the edge of your panties

"no one's here anyways" he whispers back, breath fanning hotly over the skin of your neck while his index finger rubs along your clothed clit,

Your hand grips onto his wrist, biting on your lip to surpress a small moan,

Two other people at the very back weren't watching you, too focused on their work to even come up with something like what was happening right under your table,

Looking at them did feel exciting, the pleasure intensifying with each little touch of his

"Shit are you crazy? Did that really work you up" you manage to mutter, trying your absolute best to sound even the slightest amount of serious,

That didn't work, instead, your voice came out as an unstable whine

He responds by kissing softly along your neck,

"Mhm, that and this damn skirt, can't wait to lift it up while i bend you over"

This time, you do moan, very quietly, two of his fingers are now slipped under your panties, rubbing small cricles on your clit and sliding down your slit to gather some sweet slick,

"Look at you, so wet for me. Let's take this home, wanna listen to you more"

"I can't believe you sometimes" you grin as he finally withdraws himself, sucking his fingers clean,

The way he keeps looking at you makes you want to literally drop to your knees this very second

"You're so sweet" he says, refering to either your personality sarcastically or literally in context of tasting your juices,

Doesn't matter, once your eyes meet his thick bulge so greatly on display inside his baggy jeans, every thought disappears other than wanting to go home as fast as possible

And so you did, hastily packing up and running hand in hand back to the dorm,

giggling and dragging each other like there was a storm out to get you when in reality, there wasn´t a single cloud in sight.

The rush didn´t stop when the door to your shared space finally opens, he kisses you like you´re his oxygen,

pressing your back against the closed door, one hand holding your jaw while the other is occupied with the familiar route of your body,

His tongue slips into your mouth with soft groans of his own, wrapping around your tongue,

then, with a gasp escaping your busy lips, he holds your waist tight, lifting you up and practically jogging to the bedroom,

you chuckle, parting from his soft lips to take a look at his eager, needy face,

Met with his big, round eyes and that plump, wet glaze on his pretty lips,

he smiles, "you´re a good kisser, have i told you that?" he says while letting your body down on his bed, climbing right back over you,

"I bet you say that to every girl kook" your reply is a joke as much as it it serious, hands finding his messy long strands to play with, keeping your gaze locked on the tiny mole beneath his lip

His face falls momentarily before turning into a cheeky smile, almost as if he had remembered not to show his disappointment,

"I don´t, i do a lot but lying isn´t one of those things"

In that very moment, the both of you think back to earlier,

Jungkook recalls being in this bed with someone he wished was you,

so he smiles, finding comfort in the reality of it finally being you he´s loving on, being able to touch every inch of your beauty and pretend like you like him back, fuel that idea of his whenever you moan out the sound of his name

but when he leans back in,

the sounds of his pleasure ring in your head, alongside the hurt of feeling humiliated by something that was secretly growing inside your heart,

"I´m sorry kook, can.. we stop?" you whisper, the skin on your body crawling with discomfort,

his eyes soften, wrapping his arms around you and letting your head fall on his shoulder,

"What´s wrong bunny?" he asks, gently threading his fingers through the strands of your hair,

it´s soothing, loving, like something he shouldn´t be doing.

you sigh, torn between wanting to be honest and protecting the playful, physical fun of your relationship that could be ruined by even the slightest admission of your feelings

you settle for a half truth,

"feels a little weird to be the second girl in this bed today"

Feels painfully embarrassing to be hurt over your fuck buddy engaging in his normality,

feels like you´re getting laughed at for believing this would only be sex, nothing more,

foolish little you

He hums, tightening his arms around you,

i only thought of you, she left because i called her by your name,

he so desperately wishes he would have the guts to mutter these words out,

"I understand, I´m sorry. You´re special to me, I don´t want you to feel like this" he says instead, settling for words that go much deeper

a new, small flower of hope is planted inside that naive heart of yours,

watered by the kiss he presses to your head.

[d1xonss]

Could you do a Daryl x reader where at first he doesn’t like her, and she tries to get to know why hes so mean to her? Maybe he yells at her and then some comfort after?

Pretty When I Cry

✧ Pairing : Daryl Dixon x Reader

✧ Era : Season 1

✧ Pronouns : she/her

✧ Genre : Angst/Fluff

✧ Word Count : 4k

AN ~ This is a very cute idea. I've been wanting to write something for season 1 Daryl because he's just such a cutie pie, but I didn't really have any good ideas. Though I think if he were to ever snap and "be mean" it would surely be in the beginning; his sassy era lol. But thank you for the request, hope you enjoy!

In an instant it seemed like, all of humanity was completely flipped upside down. You were on your way to work when the chaos all erupted, dead people coming back to life and the military taking matters into their own hands. Bombing places left and right even if that meant killing the ones who weren’t infected. The entire thing shook you more than you were ever willing to admit, after all, you were more fragile, soft and clearly not built for whatever the world was suddenly turning into.

But to your surprise, you made it out alive. Traumatized, sure, but alive.

You seemed to count your blessings every single day since then, thankful for every little thing that had happened to you since. Luck seemed to shine down upon you as you weren’t alone for long, finding a small group camped out in the high mountains merely days after everything went down. They all welcomed you with open arms, clearly taking a liking to your kindness and wanting as many people to come together as they could get. After all, it’s all that was left of the world. People you could rely on.

You grew to love the tight knit group, forming friendships with people you never would’ve guessed you’d meet in a million years. You also tried to keep yourself busy, wanting to be as useful as possible and provide what you could for the others. Not because you felt obligated to, but because you simply wanted to. Things like cooking, collecting berries and mushrooms, doing laundry, anything you could find to help contribute. 

Something you seemed to be ashamed of however, was that you couldn’t really do any of the “heavy lifting.” You had never fired a gun in your life, that alone narrowed down the list. Not being able to stay on watch, not being able to hunt, and…not being able to take care of the dead things that sometimes wandered all the way up here. At first, the thought of you being weaker than the others never even crossed your mind. It was only brought to your attention when a certain man began to poke fun at you because of how small he saw you.

Merle Dixon was a grade A asshole to put it bluntly. Ever since he and his brother showed up to be a part of the group later on, he had made it his mission to annoy and harass you whenever he saw the opportunity. You couldn’t figure out why you were his main target, his main source of entertainment, but you could only guess it was because he always got under your skin in a way he was able to see. That, and he tended to make you cry. He even gave you a nickname because of it after a while, one that you absolutely hated. And he knew it too.

Although Merle was someone you couldn’t stand, his brother Daryl however was…different. He could still be snappy and hot headed just like the other one you supposed, but he had never acted that way towards you surprisingly. His main target was Shane, and honestly, who could blame him? There were many times where the man would take things too far and Daryl would put him in his place, unaware of the watchful wide eyes that watched the interaction. He never seemed to care, wanting to tell everyone how it was without a single ounce of regret. You sort of envied him for that small little thing.

You had never stood up to anyone in your life, always too scared of the outcome and you hated being yelled at more than anything in the world. So it was safe to say you avoided confrontation at all costs. Clearly, as you hadn’t found the strength to stand up to Merle since he got here. But though neither of the brothers particularly cared for you, you were still kind to them just like you were to everyone else. You didn’t miss how the others in the group would almost look down on them in a way you couldn’t understand, so you wanted to be the one who provided just that little bit of kindness. It really went a long way, or at least that’s what you believed.

Though you had to admit, it was a little difficult sometimes. There were moments where you just wanted to yell in frustration, curse at Merle for how he always treated you and how Daryl typically sat there and did nothing. But you always managed to cool off, reminding yourself that they most likely acted like this because of something from their past. Something they couldn’t control. Who were you to treat them differently because of that? It was hard to stay strong at times, but in the end, you always seemed to send them a small smile.

You currently busied yourself on just the outskirts of the camp past the trees, finding and picking a few berries to bring back seeing as the group was running a bit low. And every bit of food counted these days. Your gaze stayed down as you chose the ripest ones, placing them in the little woven basket you brought to gather as many as you could for the time being. Though upon your hunt for different kinds of plant based things you could eat, your eyes happened to catch a mere glimpse of something colorful a few feet away.

To your surprise, it was a small patch of wildflowers growing together, each a different beautiful color and only a reminder to you that the world wasn’t completely dead. There were still many beautiful aspects along the way, even though a bit of hope may be lost, it was little things like this that brought a smile to your face. So you decided to wrap it up, bring back the things you’d collected along with picking one of the small flowers, putting it behind your ear for now to take back and put in your tent with the rest of your things. You had the idea of pressing it into one of the pages of a journal you kept.

You then found yourself slowly trailing back towards the site, almost dreadfully as you could predict what was coming next. You could practically hear it in the back of your mind like it was burned into your memory. Merle’s phantom voice echoed in your mind, knowing he would most likely call out to you the moment he noticed your presence reenter the space. But again, you reminded yourself to just try and be kind. It was the one thing you were best at.

Slowly but surely you made it past the treeline, and only about eight seconds passed before you heard a loud wolf whistle from your left along with the same booming laugh. Like he amused himself or something.

“There she is!” he called from the space in his and Daryl’s separate camp away from the others, “It’s weeping willow.” he smiled widely in hopes to get a reaction out of you.

You sighed as you sent him a small smile, “Still not my name Merle.” you reminded as you just tried to walk past him.

But it wasn’t that easy. It was never that easy. He easily stepped in front of you to block your path, the smirk still plastered on his face. “Close enough.” he waved off, “Besides, I wanna see what you so kindly brought back for me.” he said before quickly snatching your basket out of your hands.

Your eyes slightly widened as you tried to grab it back, but he pulled it away faster. “Merle.” you huffed as you attempted to reach for it again, but he only moved it away quicker. Every move you made, he would make as well, purposefully keeping it from you as he started to walk backwards for you to follow.

Like dangling a damn carrot in front of your face.

Your frustration grew as you continued to follow and reach for it as he laughed, watching your attempts and fails. You could feel your cheeks beginning to heat up in embarrassment now, sensing Daryl’s eyes watching the interaction as he made a few bolts by the small fire they had set up. He sat there still, doing nothing as per usual as he watched the interaction unfold right in front of him.

“Merle, please. It’s for the group.” you tried as you reached for it again.

But he pulled it out of your reach as you stood face to face, “Well, I’m a part of that group ain’t I? I think I deserve this just as much as the next bastard. Unless of course you have a different opinion bout that…” he trailed off as his smirk grew.

You sighed, “That’s not what I meant, and you know it. It’s for everyone.” you clarified kindly.

The man only laughed at you, and you quickly began to feel the familiar lump forming in your throat, trying desperately to swallow it down and not let your emotions escape. It was obvious you were sensitive, but also having to fight the same fight over and over again, it got old quicker than you would admit. You could hardly stand these interactions anymore without at least tearing up a little at his teasing and taunting.

Finally after having enough, you reached out quickly and managed to snatch the basket back from him in one quick motion, placing it on your arm as your brows furrowed a little in frustration. Merle’s eyes widened a bit at the fast unexpected action, before he started smirking all over again once he caught the expression on your face.

“Oooh look at that. I almost got ya to snap.” he poked as he swayed a little clumsily on his feet, most likely a little drunk or high would be your best guess.

Sighing to yourself again to calm down, you shook your head as you knew of his only goal, “I’m not snapping.” you stated calmly.

Though he clearly didn’t believe you, wanting to push you even more. His eyes traveled away from your eyes as he grinned wickedly, pointing to your ear. “What’s this lil thing?” he asked. Your eyes widened a little, but before you could even react, he quickly snatched it away all while pulling your hair a little in the process. 

Your hand reached again, “Merle, come on, please.” you spoke desperately as you moved to keep up with him, before your frame accidentally stepped a little too far to the left.

In a fit of embarrassment and clumsiness, your foot accidentally knocked over a bucket that was sitting a little too close to the fire. The only problem was, Daryl’s freshly made bolts were sitting in there, now being engulfed in the flames. Your eyes widened in horror as you quickly scrambled back, watching Daryl instantly stand to his feet in an attempt to save what wasn’t ruined. But it was too late.

“Son of a bitch!” he cursed loudly as he bent down to pick up the bucket.

One of your hands came up to your mouth as you couldn’t believe what you had just done, freezing in place as you now didn’t know what to do. You knew you were in deep shit already, but when Merle suddenly paused just as you did, you knew you were royally fucked as the two of you just watched Daryl stare down at the fire motionlessly.

Eventually you found your voice, stepping forward a little to reach out to him, “Oh my God, Daryl I’m so sorry-”

But your words clearly didn’t mean a thing. He slapped your hand harshly away from him as his head snapped up to look at you, a fire of his own growing in his eyes. “What the hell is wrong with ya?!” he screamed.

You instantly flinched back at his sharp tone, the lump once again forming in your throat as you desperately tried to keep yourself together, “It was an accident-”

“Do ya even know how long it took me ta make those?” he asked angrily, not even bothering to wait for an answer. “Nah…course ya don’t. Cause you don’t do anything around here! Always just sittin in yer own little fairytale, smilin without a goddamn care in the world, when in reality you just fuckin ruin everything!”

His words cut through you like a knife. But not one that was sharp. One that was dull, just sawing back and forth relentlessly and hurting you even more than you could’ve ever imagined. Your eyes quickly filled with tears, not even knowing what to say as he was clearly about to blow up even more with how angry he grew. 

He scoffed once he saw how speechless you became, “Just get the hell outta here.” he spat harshly as he got up closer to your face, aggressively pointing off into the trees.

Tears began to pour down your cheeks at the last of his words, not even wasting another second as you dropped the basket from your arms before taking off in the other direction in a flash. Your chest heaved as you moved quickly through the trees, not being able to get alone fast enough so you could finally let everything out. You almost couldn’t believe the things that just happened, how everything got so messed up after you swore you were making progress with the two of them. But you weren’t. And perhaps you never would, that being something you would just have to accept.

Though finally after feeling like you walked quickly for miles, you came to the clearing of the large quarry, slumping down near the water before you began to sob all by yourself. You let everything out, every built up emotion poured out of you like a rush of water. You could’ve sworn you cried so much that you could fill a quarry of your own, knowing that those emotions were really the only thing you were good at. Crying could be an olympic sport, and you would win first everytime given the chance. 

But that thought only got you thinking more, making you stew over Daryl’s words. Maybe he was right. Anyone could say that it was the heat of the moment, his anger, insults just spilling out of his mouth that were simply not true. But in a way, you knew how true they were. You had to admit that you did feel useless as you hugged your knees to your chest, covering your face as you sobbed even more. You didn’t have useful skills like some of the others, not being able to prove yourself as you truly were weak when it came to a world like this. All you ever wanted to do was be kind, provide for the people you cared about most. But your outlook got ruined in an instant, quickly replaced with a new one that you would surely think about forever.

It was funny, you thought. You once heard Merle’s faint voice playing in your mind repeatedly, but now…you only heard Daryl’s. His insults, his harshness, it was something you never would’ve guessed or expected from him. But now you knew that you had just ruined everything, when all you wanted was to help.

You didn’t know how much time you spent alone, crying off and on to yourself the more you allowed your mind to run, but you could only assume it was a fairly long time. The sun was beginning to set in the sky, the little bit of light that was left shone over the water in front of you, making it sparkle as your tears continued to blur the scenery. You sniffled as you wiped your cheeks over and over again, wanting to pull yourself together enough to be able to show your face again back at camp. But the embarrassment was still weighing heavily, almost a crushing pressure.

But then all your attention was pulled to a shuffling noise coming from behind you, causing you to whip your head around in a panic to see where it came from. Though the sight was more surprising than you could’ve ever prepared yourself for. Daryl slowly emerged from the trees with a hesitant look on his face, and your eyes widened as you quickly turned your head back in the opposite direction. You didn’t want to look at him. You couldn’t even bring yourself to understand why he had come out here. He had already done enough, he made his point crystal clear. You were just silently hoping he didn’t come out here to yell at you again.

Daryl on the other hand felt an immense amount of guilt. His chest tightened a little as he caught barely a glimpse of your red, puffy eyes and your tear stained cheeks, knowing he was the cause of it. He couldn’t describe how it made him feel, but all he knew was he was wishing he could take it all back if it meant not having to see you cry. His brother already caused you to break down enough, he didn’t want to be the cause of that too. And yet, he was.

The man slowly walked up to where you sat near the blue water, the rocks crunching beneath his boots louder and louder as he approached. Your heart was hammering in your chest as you just prayed he would go away, not wanting to interact with him after everything. But Daryl was stubborn, and he didn’t want you out here all night just because you were nervous to come back.

“Dinner’s almost ready.” he said a bit awkwardly, stopping just a few feet away from you. You heard him loud and clear, but you said nothing, not really in the mood to eat. Facing the group after they surely heard the scene that went down, it all sounded like a nightmare.

Daryl sighed heavily as you didn’t respond, you didn’t even look in his direction. Acting as if he wasn’t here at all. “Hey.” he called.

“...Why do you hate me?” you whispered, still not facing him as you spoke.

He almost questioned what you had said, but then it seemed to hit him all at once just how badly he had fucked up with all this. The one girl that showed him a kindness he had never seen, now thought he wanted nothing to do with her from the projected words he spat at her.

He let out a soft breath as he closed his eyes momentarily, stepping up a little closer, “I- I don’t…I don’t hate you.” he said quietly.

You didn’t react, so he managed to push himself a little further than what he was comfortable with. He moved to slowly sit down beside you, keeping some distance, yet he wanted you to know he was there. That he meant it. “I don’t hate you.” he said again.

“You act like it.” you were quick to say as you turned your head to look him in the eye, “I…I don’t even know what I did…” you said, your voice quiet and broken.

The man stared at you for a long moment, before slowly shaking his head, “Ya didn’t do nothin…it’s…it’s hard to explain. But I guess I never really understood…why yer so nice. Thought maybe ya just wanted somethin from me…I dunno.”

You shook your head a little in disbelief, “I’m nice because I care…that’s it.” you assured as you didn’t want him to think otherwise. But you supposed hearing his reasoning out loud made a little more sense, seeing as how you truly were the only one nice enough to show your kindness to the brothers. He was skeptical because no one had done that for them before, the thought nearly broke your heart.

A long moment of silence passed between the two of you, before you were the one to break it, “Listen…I’m so sorry about what happened. I didn’t mean to ruin what you worked so hard on, it was an accident.”

Though Daryl quickly shook his head, “Nah, don’t be. If anythin, I should be apologizin for what I said. I…I didn’t mean none of it…”

You stared at him with a soft expression, “But you were right…everything you said-”

“Everything I said was bullshit.” he said bluntly, looking at you with a seriousness in his eyes, “I say a lotta stupid shit I don’t mean when m’ angry, and this ain’t no different, ya hear me?”

“But it’s true.” you argued gently before looking back out into the water, “I don’t know how to help out…how to survive in a world like this. I always try to do what I can, but it’s never enough.”

Daryl paused as he saw the sadness behind your eyes, a sudden feeling overtaking him as he wanted to say or do something that would get you to smile again. “Hey, that ain’t true. Ya go out and scavenge, ya help cook the food that’s brought back…ya even helped stitch Glenn up when the dumbass hurt himself.”

His words caused a small laugh to escape your lips as you looked back over to him, “Well I knew he would somehow mess it up even more if he did it himself…I didn’t have a choice with that one.”

“Nah…ya did.” he said seriously, “Ya always have a choice, and I see ya puttin others before yerself all the time. That’s somethin ya should give yerself credit for.”

Your eyes softened the longer you looked at him, a small smile forming on your face just seeing how much he cared. Even if he wasn’t willing to admit it out loud just yet. “Thank you.” you said quietly.

Daryl felt his face grow a little hot as he ducked his head, clearing his throat a little awkwardly, “Yeah, no problem…” he muttered before it looked like he suddenly remembered something. “Oh, and uh…I brought ya this.” he said before revealing the hand that sat behind his back.

You looked down to see it was the same small flower that Merle took from you, sitting in the palm of his hand as he held it out to you. Your eyes widened a little as your small fingers delicately took it from his grasp. “You got it back?” 

“Uh, no that one was all smushed by the end of…everythin. So I went and got ya a new one…hope that’s okay.” he explained a bit quietly.

Your smile grew as your eyes lit up at the simple kind gesture, one you would have never expected from him. “It’s perfectly okay…thank you.” you said sincerely, raising it up to place it behind your ear.

He nodded a bit awkwardly as he watched you for a moment, chewing the inside of his lip. “Alright, well come on.” he muttered as he stood back up to his feet, “Best be gettin back.” he spoke, hesitantly extending a hand out to help you up.

His actions surprised you a bit, but that didn’t stop you from taking his hand, letting him help you stand before the two of you slowly headed back through the woods. You half expected complete silence as you walked side by side with him, but he managed to keep a conversation with you as if he suddenly enjoyed your company. Though maybe he always did, he was just cautious as he didn’t always trust people as easily as you did. But you were growing more hopeful as he slowly came around, finding you had to be patient to see how much of a gentle person he really was.

From that day on, you and Daryl had slowly gotten more comfortable with each other. You wouldn’t really call it a friendship per se, but it was something the two of you very clearly cherished. But that wasn’t the only thing that seemed to change.

Merle’s attitude toward you seemed to have completely flipped from what you had grown accustomed to. He rarely ever spoke to you again after that day, and if he did it was always something short and simple, not an insult in sight. Though you were a little surprised, a part of you had a feeling who changed his mind about you.

~ Thanks for reading!

[ozzgin]

Does the asylum spider have a name by any chance and will his story have any romance in it?

The first part was very much intended as a budding romance, but I always seem to get caught up in the story and leave out a lot of interaction. Sorry about that 😭

I initially wanted to keep this ask for some extra, longer headcanons, but as I started writing today I realized a lot of the details would be covered in part 2. So instead I’ll just tell you a little bit about spider boy. I guess it still counts as headcanons, but less ample.

Yandere! Asylum Spider Character Info

Get to know the strange creature you found in the sewers.

[Main Story]

He does not have a name, and even if he did, it’s been too long for him to remember. He will gladly take any name you give him, so please do consider it. He hasn’t been spoken to in many, many years, so the idea of being called again - with a name you picked for him specifically - is enough to get him to drool in excitement.

Speaking of, the drooling is sadly unavoidable. He is very much aware it’s improper, but his muscles have atrophied enough that it is now out of his control. Additionally, the teeth curve outwards and so he can’t close his mouth fully. Hopefully you don’t find him disgusting.

The blindfold can be removed and he’s not entirely blind as you expected, but his eyes are no longer used to intense light. The pale orbs are quickly overstimulated if he tries to gaze outside. Therefore, he will keep it on most of the time. The darkness also makes him feel more secure. The only thing he does enjoy glancing at every now and then is, well, you. He was suspecting you’d be pretty and he certainly wasn’t wrong, so he is indeed very grateful to have been able to take in your face.

You can also loosen up the straight jacket and, with a little bit of exercise, he will be able to move his arms. It’s probably the thing he’s most enthusiastic about, because he can finally touch you. It will start terribly clumsy; you have to understand, he’s been deprived of most senses for an eternity. His bony fingers might accidentally pull too hard or suddenly twitch into your skin, but he’s doing his best to refine his motor skills. He can also return any hug you offer him, and you should expect him to demand it extremely often. He’s now addicted to the warmth of your body.

Unfortunately the legs can’t be saved. They always drag along, crooked and weak. He relies entirely on his spider appendages. (I know there’s some of you out there probably wondering about it and no, the lower body is not completely paralyzed. You know very well why it matters.)

Lastly, as you will see, he can practice his speech and will eventually be able to use words and short sentences. Saves you a lot of time, especially upstairs where his knowledge is vital for survival. On the other hand, he doesn’t have much to say. He doesn’t remember much from his past, and what he does remember he’d rather forget. So he prefers to listen to you and loves it when you tell him stories from your life.

While he is terrified of the upstairs, he will do his best to protect you and he definitely has the means to do so. He has a gland that allows his saliva to turn acidic, his bite is venomous and he can regurgitate a thick thread of web.

You might be able to tell, he is terribly clingy. To think someone would have pulled him out of his misery. He is forever indebted to you and will never, ever leave your side again.

[elllisaaa]

how seventeen would confess to you - pu vers.

-> pairing : svt pu × gn!reader

-> words count : 2.9k words

-> genre : svt members crushing on you, fluff

-> warnings : while make you giggle and kick your feet, sex implied in chan's part

-> sorry if I made any mistakes, english is not my first language.

-> reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated !

-> masterlist | svt masterlist hhu vers. | vu vers. | pu vers.

MOON JUNHUI - RUSHED

to me, he really has two different sides.

sometimes, he’s a goofball, joking along with you, making you laugh to the point you’re crying.

would 100% do something ridiculous if it made you at least smile. 

he’s also very happy about the fact that the two of you have some inside jokes that only you understand and can laugh about (makes him feel like he’s special). 

and the rest of the group would look at the both of you giggling like maniacs without understanding a word you said. 

besides that, i think he’s very observant and knows a lot of things about you and your body language.

he would certainly notice the little changes in your mood by the way you act or talk, and he would be more than delighted to get you out of uncomfortable situations.

he loves it every time you rely on him for little things like opening a jar for you or getting things from the higher shelves, whether you could have reached them or not.

 and all this feels so domestic that he doesn’t even quite realize how much he needs you until he’s about to go on tour again.

he’s spiraling every night, thinking about how he’s not going to be able to live without you being so far away and suddenly he needs to see you, even if his plane is going off in less than two hours. 

“- Jun !? What are you doing here ? Don’t you have to go to the airport soon ?”

He was completely disheveled, his hair ruffled by the wind that also colored his cheeks and nose. And he seemed lost, as if he didn’t even know why he was there in the first place. But the moment his eyes found yours, it was as if the world around you two blurred out. Suddenly, he wasn’t thinking anymore, the only thing in his mind was you.

“- I- I had to tell you something.

- Well, you could have told me over text, you’re gonna be late !

- No, no, I have to tell you in person. It’s important, please.”

He sounded desperate, you had never seen him like that, never seen him so anxious. You simply nobbed, encouraging him to go on with his thoughts. Jun took a deep breath, but he knew that he had to say it right now. If you said yes, he’ll be the happiest man on earth, and he would hold on to the thought of you during his tour. But if you said no, at least, he’ll be away and would not have to see you everyday, he could let you process everything. Either way, it should end relatively well, even if he hoped for the first option. 

“- I couldn’t leave without telling you this, and I know that I’m selfish to do it just before going away for months but I couldn’t find it in me to tell you before. You can ignore me all you want if you’re not okay with that but I hope you won’t because I need you so bad, I need you to be part of life for everything to be alright.” 

A small smile was tugging the corner of your lips, having figured where his speech was going. You could’ve stopped him, but he was so cute, fumbling over his words, talking with his hands out of nervousness, his eyes focusing everywhere except on you. You leaned against the doorframe, listening patiently to his rambling. 

“- And I guess what I’m trying to say is that I love you Y/N… I love you so much I can’t even bear the idea of not seeing you, of not having you by my side everyday. And I know that you’re probably not feeling the same, we're supposed to be friends after all, and friends don’t dream about kissing each other, but if I have the slightest chance of bei-”

Jun’s next words died in his throat when you grabbed him by the collar of his jacket, forcing him to lean down, just enough for you to meet his lips. He freezed for several seconds, making sure that this wasn’t another crazy dream, but the way he could feel the tiniest movement of your lips against his definitely grounded him into reality. He let his own hands slide to your waist, closing the space between your bodies and finally kissing you like he fantasized about. 

“- You’re an idiot Moon Junhui. You’re an idiot for thinking that I would turn you down, because I’m in         love with you too. And you’re also an idiot for telling me just before leaving. I’m going to miss you even more…”

“i promise i’ll make it worth the wait, i’ll take you out as soon as i’m back.”

KWON SOONYOUNG - SMILEY

he’s a funny guy, really funny and you’re a funny person too so be prepared to always laugh when you’re with him.

he knows that no matter what he’s on, you’re going to follow him and he loves that you’re in the same mood as him.

act as if he’s annoyed everytime you tease him along with his members, but truly, he’s all warm inside whenever he thinks about how comfortable you are around the other guys. 

bet that he would not miss an occasion to tease you either, finding you especially cute when you playfully hit him, with your cheeks all red. 

will bicker with you about everything and anything, just like an old couple fighting. 

the moment he really fell for you was when you offered him a little tiger plushie that he could hang on his bag for his birthday, saying it was nothing when it meant the world to him.

it wasn’t even that deep, he was aware, but it was so cute of you to encourage him in his little (big) obsession. 

everytime you participate in his horanghae agenda, he’ll smile like an idiot.

i think that mario kart nights will be a regular thing between the two of you, always making stupid bets to challenge each other.

“- Kwon Soonyoung ! I warn you, if you do that, we’re not friends anymore !”

How hot you looked when you were angry didn’t deter the said Soonyoung as he hitted you with a red shell. Your scream of frustration made him burst into laughter as he drove past you and won the race a few seconds later. He didn’t even have the time to celebrate his victory that you were already pushing him on the floor, ready to take revenge.

“- You really are a little piece of shit ! Why did you do that !?

- Because it’s funny seeing you all mad about nothing.”

His cocky smile was soon wiped off his face when he noticed that you were picking one of the cushions of the couch, apparently ready to hit him without any regrets. Soonyoung grabbed your wrists just in time to stop you, not giving in when you tried to squirm out of his hold. 

“- It’s not my fault you’re bad at this game !”

His snarky remark infuriated you even more, and you knew very well that he was doing it on purpose. It was obvious from the look on his face, but you gave in to his provocation anyway. You finally freed your hands, throwing the cushion aside and going to tickle his sides instead. Soonyoung couldn’t help the little giggles that escaped him, trying to wiggle away from your touch.

“- Ahah ! Please Y/N ! Please stop, I’m sorry !

- Not stopping until you beg my pardon !”

And you kept your promise, tickling him to no end, even straddling his lap to get better access to the exposed skin of his tummy. But as you leaned in, you finally realized how close to his face you were, your eyes zeroing on his lips. Soonyoung didn’t know who kissed the other first, he just knew that he didn't want to let go of you. Soon enough, you were forced to anyway, desperately needing to breathe. He held your gaze, and tenderly tucked a rebellious strand of hair behind your ear.

“- Please, tell me that it wasn’t just the spur of the moment. I might cry if you say yes.

- It wasn’t, don’t cry you big baby.”

The pout aborning his lips was really cute, but he didn’t let you focus on that, circling your waist with his arms, pulling you down on top of him. You gasped out of surprise, but quickly, you relaxed into his warm body, while Soonyoung buried his face in the crook of your neck, not once thinking about the fact that you were still laying on the floor of your living room.

“i may be a baby, but I’m your baby.”

XU MINGHAO - LONELY

he’s not very talkative at first, only greeting you when you arrive, saying goodbye when you leave and if he really needs something. 

but he always makes sure that you don’t want something, or are uncomfortable (my sweet guy). 

one time when the guys invited you for dinner, you sat beside minghao, and as the night went on, you found some common interests with him.

you ended up spending the whole dinner passionately debating with him.

he’s indeed a very smart man and it’s really interesting to discuss with him, even if you don’t always share the same opinion about things, he’s always respectuous and interested in what you think or say.

and that’s what minghao feels for you at first : respect.

he admires you so much, because you’re such a clever person, you’re doing a job you love and for which you worked very hard, and you also find the time to laugh with him too.

and even if you’re more educated on a subject than him, you never make him feel like he’s stupid, always explaining it to him in such a simple way.

and adding to that, you’re beautiful, breathtaking, which is not helping him to hide the crush he developed on you. 

Minghao stood in front of his mirror, he was there for a good thirteen minutes, trying to recite the text he so carefully wrote. He spent all his free time perfecting every little detail of his confession, because he wanted it to be just as amazing as you were. And even if it has been almost two weeks since he finished preparing his speech, he couldn’t bring himself to tell it to you. Every time he saw you, it was as if everything else dissolved, the world around was suddenly blurred and the only thing in his mind was ultimately you. 

That’s why he repeated to himself that he should practice. By now, he knew every word by heart, not needing to check the written text anymore. He spent hours and hours telling it to his reflection in the mirror, but it didn’t compare to what it was when you were in front of him, looking him in the eyes and smiling so brightly. Minghao took a deep breath, trying to convince himself that what he did was effective as he started over again. 

“- You always say that you have a rational and logical mind, but still, you believe in ghosts, fate and soulmates. You always say that you don’t like romance movies, but still, you cry in my arms everytime we watch one. You always say that you don’t like it when people do something for you, but still, you always ask me for help. And I find all of that so cute. Because even if you’re the smartest person I know, it reminds me that you’re not coherent sometimes. And I’m not either. I have never been when it comes to you. Everytime you look at me, I feel like I don’t even know how to breathe anymore. You make me forget about everything except you. Since both of us are a little silly sometimes, maybe we could be silly together.”

He stopped, looking at himself and shaking his head in disappointment. 

“- Gosh… This is so stupid, I am ridiculous…”

It’s only when he had finished talking that Minghao noticed you, standing close to the door. He met your eyes in the mirror, and they grew wide in surprise. For how long were you there ? Did you hear his whole confession ? And if it was the case, how would you react ? He felt his cheeks grow warm, and he nervously ran a hand through his hair. 

“- You know, I don’t think you are.”

The puzzled look on Minghao’s face made you smile even more than you already were, unable to hold back your grin now that he was finally looking at you. 

“- You’re not ridiculous. Try it out on me if you’re not sure.

- I… I just… Okay…”

And Minghao told you again, this time trying to look into your eyes, also trying to control his shaky voice. When he reached the last word, you stepped towards him, until your face was only inches away from his, one of your hands coming up to stroke his cheek. 

“- That’s a lot better, don’t you think ? Now I can tell you how much I would love to be silly together.”

“it’s all i’ve been dreaming of.”

LEE CHAN - COMPLICATED

part time idol, full time comedian.

he’s so funny for real, and it’s what you like about him first, that he’s able to make you laugh so easily. 

he loves to know everything about you, and he remembers even the slightest detail about everything that you love and don’t. 

and that transfer in the bedroom because after some time, you fool around while being drunk and until there, you didn’t stop. 

he knows you and your body like the back of his hand, and that’s quite practical as well as it is annoying because he can always tell when you’re in a good mood or not. 

likes to make you discover the music he appreciates and encourages you to do the same. 

has such sweet gestures for you, even if you’re just supposed to be fuck buddies and everyone can see how in love he is with you. 

but it’s only because he wants more with you but doesn’t want to cross the already blurry lines of your relationship, or even worse, lose you. 

that’s why he treats you like his girlfriend without saying that it is what he wants, and it's confusing and hurtful for the both of you.and if you want to get out of this situation, you’d have to take the matter in your own hands. 

The more Chan spent time with you, the more he found himself unable to leave your side in the morning. That was his only unspoken rule : he could stay the night, but he would always go away before you wake up because he had “things to do”. And you respected that, that he needed to settle his own limits. But still, it hurt to find his cold and empty space in your bed every time, his smell still lingering in your sheets. You wanted him to stay, to really stay. 

It hurt even more when you fell asleep in his arms almost every night. What was supposed to be only meet ups from time to time ended up being an everyday thing. When you came home from work, he was often already here, having cooked for you and ready to get all the stress of the day out of your body. And then, you drifted off in his embrace, with Chan kissing you all over your face. You craved all of that, you craved him, his presence, his affection, his love.

“- Chan… Don’t leave me, please…”

The boy jumped at the sound of your sleepy voice, turning around to look at you, still half naked. He wanted to stay, he really wanted to, but he knew that if he did that, he was going to fall even more deep, and he couldn’t stop it. 

“- I-I can’t, I have to go.”

Chan tried to not let you hear how much his voice was shaking as he focused on searching his discarded clothes on the floor. He heard you shuffle in the sheets behind him, but he was not expecting your arms to sneak around his waist, your warm body pressed against his back.

“- I know you’re lying. Please, stay with me.”

The butterflies erupted in his stomach, but at the same time, he felt a heavy weight on his heart. Was this what he was thinking ? Or were you just emotional for some reason ?

“- Don’t do this to me, it’s already hard enough. If it’s like that, we better stop.”

Tears were prickling at his eyes as he tried to not melt in your hold. He knew he was going to harm you so much, that it would mean the end of everything but it was certainly better like that. 

“- I don’t want it to stop. I want it to last forever. I-I think I’m in love with you…”

Your eyes were closed, as if it could help you forget what you just said. But to your surprise, Chan only turned around so he could hug you tightly. His head fell to the crook of your neck, and your eyes grew wide as you felt some tears soaking the material of the shirt you were wearing - his shirt, in fact. Your hand flew to his hair, grazing his scalp with your nails to get him to calm down. 

“i think i’m in love with you too, i think you’re all i ever wanted.”

-> i don't allow any copies, reposts or translations of my work.

fill in this to be added to my taglist !

[wolfjackle-creates]

Please tell me that with 'Johnny and Kitty pocess Superman and Batman' That they are either on a date or go on a date after a fight? Please this needs to happen

@britcision also asked about this one!

So I was looking through what I wrote of this and...it's not that good. It's based on a prompt from back in Nov 2022 and I was still figuring things out back then and needed to rewrite everything I wrote at least once. It's less crack than you'd expect from the title, I'm afraid.

So I'm gonna do part of that rewrite. Because I'm insane and don't have self control. 🤣

Anyway, the prompt is from @zeestarfishalien and can be found here. Oddly it doesn't have half as many notes as I remember it having. Huh. Guess I thought it had more because I latched onto it so strongly.

Anyway, enjoy!

Word Count: 1.6k

-----

"Danny!" yelled Jazz from downstairs.

Danny froze for just a moment. That was Jazz's something-is-wrong voice. He dropped through the floor to get to her that much quicker. "What happened?" he demanded.

She just pointed to the TV where a news reporter was standing in a city. Behind her, Batman stood next to the open driver's side door to the batmobile while Superman floated in the air a few feet away with his arms crossed.

"Don't look at me like that, baby," said Batman.

"I will look at you however the hell I want. You forgot our date, asshole!" yelled Superman back.

The reporter grinned at the camera. "Looks like quite the lover's tiff we've stumbled upon! Who would have ever suspected Batman and Superman of being in a relationship?"

Behind her, Superman used his heat vision to shoot at Batman who cursed loudly before jumping into his car and speeding off. Superman huffed and flew in the opposite direction. Jazz muted the TV while the reporter continued making speculations about Batman and Superman's relationship. Danny stared at Jazz in horror.

"That was—"

"Yeah. Yeah, I think it was."

Danny closed his eyes and thought about the half finished essay he had upstairs and the history test he had the next day and how his parents would be home in an hour. He wanted to cry.

"I have to go to Gotham."

"I'll take care of our parents. Have you had the flu yet this year?"

Danny's laugh had a hysterical edge to it. "Tuck's been keeping track of my excuses. Ask him. I'll just…" Danny let the sentence trail as he transformed and flew out of the house without another word.

Even flying as fast as he could, he didn't arrive in Gotham until night had fallen. He tried to sense Johnny or Kitty or listen for the chaos that always followed them, but the city was so big.

After over half an hour of searching with no luck, Danny was sitting on a roof with his head buried in his knees trying not to cry. He only had so many hours before he had to be back in Amity for school. If he missed any more days, he'd get a suspension and his parents would be livid.

Just then, the clock tower chimed ten. Danny lifted his head to look at the tall building, one of the tallest in the city. He might not have any idea how to find Batman, but surely the other heroes would. Maybe he could get their attention?

In a matter of minutes, he was floating above the clock tower. With a deep breath, he shot an ectoblast up into the sky. Two minutes later, he repeated the action.

Not long after his fifth blast, two grapple hooks attached to the tower near his feet and seconds later he was facing Batman and Robin.

Danny immediately fell into a fighting stance. "Johnny, I'm not going to let you get away with this. Get out of him. Now."

But instead of calling him a do-gooder nerd, Batman pulled out a batarang and held it ready to throw. "I'm not this Johnny," he growled.

Danny relaxed and sighed in relief. "Oh thank the ancients, you got him out. I'm so, so sorry, Batman! I know you and the Justice League are relying on me to keep the ghosts from escaping Amity. Johnny and Kitty must’ve gotten past me. How'd you get Johnny out? Were you able to help Superman? Kitty is at least reasonable most of the time so I hope she didn't give you any trouble. Where are they now? I'll just collect them and bring them back to the Realms."

Robin pulled out his sword and pointed it at Danny. "What do you know of Fa— Batman's condition? Who is this 'Johnny' you speak of?"

Danny's core stuttered in his chest. The kid couldn't mean… He looked past the blade pointed at him towards Batman. "You… aren't Batman. Are you? You're covering for him while Johnny is overshadowing the real one."

Batman put a hand on Robin's shoulder. "Lower the sword, Robin." To Danny, he said, "I think you owe us some explanations."

Danny buried his head in his hands and tried to bite back the tears. He was so tired. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. This is my fault. They got past me and I failed. I'm so sorry."

“Desist with your groveling and explain!” ordered Robin.

“Right, yeah. Of course. Sorry.” Danny looked up, but the stars were hidden behind smog and lights. He sighed. “I’m Phantom, of course. Responsible for monitoring the portal in Amity and keeping ghosts from coming through and causing problems on Earth. Also for stopping human hunters from hurting any ghosts. Johnny and Kitty, two ghosts, must have gotten past me. I’m careful, I swear. We set up an alarm on the portal so I know the moment someone comes through, but I missed them somehow. I…maybe they came through at the same time as someone else? I’ve had to deal with Skulker and Boxy so far this week. And Queen Dora came for a visit and one of Pandora’s people stopped by to drop something off. So if Johnny and Kitty came through at the same time… Pariah curse it, I should’ve realized. What a stupid design flaw. I’ll be working on a fix for that as soon as I get out of school tomorrow. I’d do it sooner, but I’ve a test you see. And if I miss any more class, I’ll get a suspension, and then my parents really will kill me again.”

Danny winced when he saw Robin’s fingers twitch towards his sword again. “Sorry! No more excuses. It’ll be fixed ASAP, promise. Um, Johnny is generally into motorcycles, but I think he saw the Batmobile and wanted to take it for a ride so he overshadowed Batman. From what I saw on the news, he blew off a date with Kitty to do it so she’s pissed and followed him and ended up overshadowing Superman. Probably so she could use his powers on top of her own to punish Johnny.” He trailed off and waited for the yelling to start.

But they were silent.

Danny shifted from foot to foot. “Again, I’m really sorry. I know you rely on me to keep this from happening and I swear it won’t again. But if you tell me where you think Batman is, I’ll go retrieve Johnny. Same with Superman and Kitty. I need to get this wrapped up by four, maybe four thirty, so I can get home in time for school to start.” He couldn’t hold back a yawn. He just wanted to sleep.

Batman and Robin exchanged a glance and Batman put away his weapon. “I’ve never heard of you or this Amity before. You’re a kid, who is your Justice League mentor? Why aren’t they here?”

“I… What? Justice League mentor? What are you talking about? All of my mentors are ghosts.”

Robin snorted. “Who informed you that it was your responsibility to monitor this portal that allows these ghosts to invade? Why are you the only one preventing attacks such as this?”

Danny bristled. “I’m not alone! Sam and Tucker and my sister help me!”

“Are they kids like you?” asked Batman.

“If by like me you mean ghosts, of course not. They’re fully alive. I’m the only ghost of the group.”

“No,” said Batman after a pause. “That’s not what I meant. I wanted to know if they were teenagers who still go to school like you or if they were adults you worked with.”

Danny shrugged. “Jazz is starting college next year, but yeah. They’re my friends.”

Batman let out a long breath. “Right. And why do you think the Justice League is expecting you, specifically, to monitor this portal?”

Danny threw up his hands. “Because you told me that!” He saw Batman open his mouth to say something and quickly added, “Not you specifically, but, like, the League. This guy Constantine came by a month or two after the portal opened and saw me and relaxed. Said he was glad to see I was already handling things there. Gave me a number and laughed and said if anyone could handle the situation, it’d be me, but I could call if I needed back up.” He shrugged. “And he was right. So far I have been able to handle it. This is an exception and I’ll get it fixed in a few hours tops.”

Robin ground his teeth. “That lazy magician.”

Batman also muttered something under his breath. “Thank you, Phantom. For doing so much on your own. If you tell us how to free Batman and Superman, we can handle it from here.”

“What?” Danny shook his head in confusion. “What are you talking about? You need specialized weapons that I don’t have on me and containment devices and access to a portal to the Realms to get rid of them. Seriously, I can get this taken care of. Just tell me where Batman is.”

Batman sighed again. “We don’t have much of a choice. Fine. But will you be able to get us these weapons and containment devices if we requested some of you? We’ll pay you, of course. And we’d like more details on what you’ve been dealing with. I’m afraid Constantine… did not share the details of your dealings with the rest of us.”

“Yeah, sure. The weapons are made by Drs. Jack and Maddie Fenton of FentonWorks, based out of Amity Park, Illinois. Their son Danny can help you pick out the most useful ones. Some are more torture device than anything, though, so definitely avoid those. Danny will be able to tell you the difference.”

Batman nodded once, jaw clenched. “Thank you. Now, I’ve just gotten an update on the possessed Batman’s location. Follow us.”

-----

Dick is pretending to be Batman here. If they have a "normal" batman out, then they can show the possessed batman is an imposter.

I saw some debate on the original over whether Johnny would possess Batman or Superman. To me, the answer was obvious. He'd possess Batman because he wanted to take the Batmobile for a spin.

Meanwhile, Kitty is the smart one. She'd go for Superman because then she could use his powers and her own to 1) punish Johnny and 2) prevent anyone from stopping them.

Regarding Constantine: He made an oops, but it's not (fully) his fault. Due to time missions from Clockwork, Phantom is shown to be thousands of years old and is known for fantastic feats. If Constantine had known this was some fourteen year old newly dead kid, he'd have acted differently. Instead, he thinks Danny is older than he is with millenia of experience.

This is free for anyone to continue!

[spider-stark]

THINGS CHANGE

Pairing - Peter Parker x Reader

Summary - Your ex-boyfriend, Peter Parker, finds out that you're planning on going out with Harry Osborn, and he's definitely not happy about it.

Warnings - Sexual situations (no actual smut), slight degradation kink if you squint, angst

a/n - another random little thing I wrote about Peter in-between writing for Infinitely You. considering a part two, but we will see! lemme know what you think :)

// masterlist // send me your thoughts //

“You seriously can’t expect me to be ok with this!” 

The sound of his voice had your blood boiling, anger instantly coursing through your veins as you realized just how domineering his tone had become. He was purposely trying to push you to your limit, seeing just how far he could go before you would finally break. 

“I don’t care if you’re okay with it, Peter!” You snapped at him, not bothering to even look over your shoulder at the boy as you both trailed through the halls of Oscorp, Peter following at your heels like a lost puppy. “And last I checked I don’t need to ask for your permission when making my own decisions.” 

“You can’t go out with him.” Peter grumbled from behind you, ignoring your words entirely. He respected your decisions, he really did. But it wasn’t his fault that you made such terrible ones, he thought to himself. “He’s a total dick.” 

The comment stopped you in your tracks, swiftly turning on your heel and looking up to stare directly at the annoying boy that refused to just leave you alone. “Guess you two have something in common then.” 

He narrowed his eyes at the gab. “What do you even see in him? I thought you hated his little rich kid attitude.” 

You hated the way he mocked your voice as he spoke. Hated the way he mimicked the phrase you had used to describe Harry Osborn so many times in the past. Yet, he wasn’t wrong.

You did hate the way Harry used to act around you–constantly flaunting his fathers fortune–expecting you to fawn over him like all the other girls that came his way. But things had changed after you took on an internship at Oscorp. Harry realized that his pompous act wasn’t working on you, and the closer the two of you got the more you realized it was just that–an act–and you had grown to like the person he actually was. 

“We both know that’s not who he really is.” Peter stayed silent, both of you knowing that he couldn’t argue with you. Harry was his best friend, and he was a good guy behind the flashy cars and his multibillion-dollar corporation. “And at least he makes time for me.” 

The comment had hit its mark, hurt flashing across Peter’s face as the words cut into him. You didn’t let yourself falter, didn’t let yourself feel the guilt that was starting to rise in your chest. He deserves it, you reminded yourself.  

“You know I always tried to be there for you,” his tone softened, his own irritation momentarily melting away as he began to recite the same spiel he had given so many times before, “but it’s complicated, people need-” 

“People need Spider-Man.” You cut him off, finishing the sentence for him. “And I get that.” You really did. People relied on Spider-Man, trusted in him that he would be there when they really needed a hero. “But I needed my boyfriend, Pete. And he was never there.” 

Things had been complicated since the two of you split, especially since neither of you had been willing or even able to cut the other out of their life. You were Peter’s biggest supporter, and Spider-Man’s, but you had grown tired of the constant suffering that came with being close to him. 

As much as you loved Peter, you couldn’t help but crave normalcy. Someone that could be there for you and make you a priority, something that Peter wouldn’t ever be able to offer. 

There was a beat of silence, the weight of your words still lingering in the air between the both of you, before he finally broke it. 

“He can’t make you happy.” It was a weak argument, and Peter knew that, but it was the only one he had left. 

“Honestly Pete?” You sighed, shaking your head at him. “You set the bar low. Extremely low. At this point I think I’d be happy just to have a partner that won’t crawl through my window in the middle of the night and bleed out on my carpet.” 

Pete rolled his eyes. “Okay, that literally only happened one time!” 

“Pretty sure one time is more than enough.” 

“Well there were plenty of other times where you didn’t seem to mind having me crawl through your window.” He shot you a smug grin, crossing his arms over his chest. “Ya know, for someone who seems so pissed that their boyfriend was Spider-Man, you sure loved fucking me in the suit-” 

Your eyes widened, your head jerking around to make sure that no one was around to hear his words. Peter didn’t seem to care either way, only smirking when he saw the blush that was starting to creep up your neck. 

“I’m not gonna lie,” he continued, once again pushing and pushing, just trying to see how far you’d let him go, “I always thought it was kinda hot. You’ve always been pretty desperate for me, but god, the way you’d act when I wore the suit?” He paused, looking you over as he swiped his tongue over his bottom lip. You hated how the simple action made your breath catch in your throat. “It was pathetic–how you were such a slut for Spid-” 

You roughly grabbed hold of his wrist, snapping at him to shut up in a hushed tone. He let you pull him towards the empty conference room to your left, that stupid proud grin still on his stupid face. 

“What are you trying to do? People can hear you, Pete! Do you want people to find out who you are?” Your attitude was much different than Peter’s, clearly not sharing in his apparent amusement as you tried to quietly pull the door shut. 

A part of you felt like you were getting emotional whiplash from this conversation, somehow jumping back and forth between anger, pity, and guilt while simultaneously trying to pretend like his words didn’t have an effect on you. But Peter knew you, he knew everything about you–and he was using that knowledge to his advantage. 

“You gonna try and get Harry to wear it?” You weren’t surprised that he once again ignored you, only caring to entertain the conversation you wanted out of. 

“What are you even talking about?” 

“The suit.” His tone was so matter-of-fact, so cocky and arrogant. You wanted to hate him for it, wanted to pretend that you didn’t love when he acted like this. “I mean, he’s got enough money to find a replica somewhere, right?” 

You bit down on your bottom lip, your nerves building as you watched him take a step closer. “Shut up.” 

“I’m sure you’d love it, wouldn’t you?” Another step towards you, caging you against the closed door. You could feel his breath against your cheek, though you still refused to look at him. “Maybe you could convince him to wear the mask, yeah? Pretend like it’s still me fucking you.” 

Copper filled your mouth as you bit down on the inside of your cheek, fighting against the familiar warmth building in your stomach. He wanted to get you riled up, that much was obvious, and he knew exactly how to do it. Fuck you, Peter Parker, you had meant to say the words out loud, but they died in the back of your throat as you struggled to find your voice. 

Peter’s nimble fingers lifted to your face, forcing your chin up so you had no choice but to look directly at him. “Even if he wasn’t wearing the mask,” he cooed, the gentle tone not matching up with the dark gleam in his eyes, “we both know you’d still be thinking about me, right?” 

A shaky inhale on your part, desperately trying to maintain a cold stare. You couldn’t let yourself melt for him, wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing he still had so much control over you. “You’re intolerable.” 

“You’re not denying it.” He didn’t loosen his hold on your chin, not giving you a chance to break away as his other hand began to trail along your waist, fingers sneaking beneath the hem of your shirt to touch bare skin. “That when you’re with him, you pretend I’m the one touching you,” 

He tilted your head further, leaning just close enough that you could practically feel his lips graze against yours. “Pretending I’m the one kissing you.” 

The hand on your waist suddenly dropped to your hip, his thumb digging roughly into the flesh just hard enough that you were certain it would leave a mark. You gritted your teeth, trying to hold back the gasp that threatened to break free in response to his actions. Peter knew that you were holding back, fighting against your own instincts, and he planned on breaking you.

“Do you wish it was me?” Just barely a whisper, his lips now ghosting against your jawline as he rephrased the question, harsher this time, “Do you pretend that I’m the one inside you?” he shifted his hips as he spoke, pressing them against yours and letting you feel the very prominent bulge in his jeans. You didn’t have time to stop the high-pitched squeak that it had elicited, your face burning red as you accidentally gave him exactly what he wanted. 

“No. I don’t.” The words came out weak, as well as a little shaky, your eyes screwing shut to try and avoid looking at him. 

You weren’t sure how you felt anymore, the emotional motion sickness reaching an all-time high as you grappled with your feelings; just angry enough to scream at him, just horny enough to scream for him. 

Your pitiful attempt to deny him did nothing as he still worked his way down to your neck, lightly nipping at the sensitive skin, grinning against you when he felt you jump at the sensation. “I don’t believe you.” 

His fingers were now toying with your waistband, tugging against the material, begging for any sort of indication that you were okay with it. Both of you knew that you wouldn’t be able to turn him down even if you wanted to, and thankfully you weren’t gonna have to. 

A loud buzz against the door caused both of you to jerk away from each other, Peter stumbling back before you realized that it was your phone vibrating in your back pocket. You didn’t hesitate to reach for it, desperate for a distraction. 

Harry. 

Guilt washed over you as you saw his name appear on the screen, followed by a text telling you that he had finished up work early so he could take you out for dinner. It was a simple gesture, one that some wouldn’t think twice about, but the thought made your chest tighten. 

He was making time for you. 

Peter seemed to know who it was that texted you, able to put the pieces together on his own. That cocky mask fell as he watched you, listened to the way your heart skipped a beat when you thought of Harry. 

“Pete,” He recognized that tone, the same one you had used the night you called it quits, “I love you. You know that, but-” there was always a but, “I just–I can’t do this again. I need to pick what’s best for me.” 

“And Harry is what’s best for you?” It hadn’t been meant as a slight, but rather a genuine question. One he knew he wouldn’t like the answer to. 

“Maybe not.” You hesitated for a moment, dreading what you had to say next, “But I know that it’s not you. It can’t be you. Not again.”  

The words hurt to say as much as they did to hear. Neither of you wanted this, but as much as Peter hated to admit it, he knew that there was no other way. Not right now, at least. Not while the world still needed Spider-Man. 

“Okay.” Peter’s voice cracked, doing his best to force a smile. It didn’t reach his eyes, not in the way it used to. “So where does that leave us?” 

You tried to return the smile. “Friends?” 

“Does that mean I have to see you with Harry?” 

“Probably, yeah.” 

“Fine.” He feigned a look of disgust, earning a small laugh from you. “But I’m not gonna like him.” 

“He’s your best friend, Pete.” You snorted at his statement, assuming that it had to at least partially be a joke. 

“And you’re the love of my life.” Peter shrugged and tried to mask the pain that accompanied his words, while you tried to mask the sound of your heart breaking, “So I guess things change, huh?”

If you liked this, then please feel free to check out my No Way Home series, Infinitely You! :)

[sunoorintarou]

Catharsis: Christmas Special

Phos!Reader x Teen!Gojo Satoru and Teen!Geto Suguru

Warnings: Gojo - centric, usual angst, fluff if you squint, major character death, dead bodies, set in 2006, lots of talks of politics, death, murder, trauma, morals, etc, borderline bullying? (Satoru is a jerk), self - blaming, grief, and all it's stages, trouble processing and understanding emotions, Gojo is seriously just his own warning

Notes: Merry Christmas!!!

"You're weak. Why do you bother being a sorceror?"

Satoru's words make you freeze, eyes widening at their bluntness. He doesn't react, however, because in his mind, he's simply telling you the truth.

You're weak. He's known that from the moment you set foot in this classroom almost three months ago.

He doesn't understand why Suguru and Shoko seem so fond of you. All you do is get into trouble, injure yourself, and make it everyone's problem to save you. You can't fight, your Cursed Technique is subpar, not to mention that you're annoying.

Stepping into battle like some sort of self-righteous hero knowing full well that if a curse so much as touches you, you'll crumble. Literally. That's another thing he finds annoying about you. How easily your skin chips and cracks like porcelain revealing an ocean of Phosphophyllite underneath.

You can't lift anything heavy, you can't fight, you can't help out without injuring yourself, you're clumsy, you're annoying, and the list could go on.

What he finds the most annoying about you, however, is your soft voice going, "Gojo - san, are you alright? You look tired", "Gojo - san, you should rest, you don't need to use your technique so often", "Gojo - san, you haven't eaten yet, so I brought you this, I hope you don't mind".

Gojo - san this, Gojo - san that, God. You drive him crazy. How do you manage to see through every front he puts up? Every act? Even Shoko and Suguru can't see through it, and yet you have the audacity to call him out.

You're a liability in battle, and you're practically useless, more like the team's overglorified mascot. So, for the life of him, Satoru doesn't understand why everyone likes you so much. Even Nanami, his grouchy underclassman, doesn't seem to mind you.

What annoys Satoru the most, however, is the tug his heart feels when he looks at you. Because no matter how he tries to deny it, you're growing on him like a parasite, and a part of him wishes he was as close to you as they were.

"I am weak." You agree, seemingly taking no offence to Satoru's question. It's just you and him in the classroom. You're standing at your desk, bag still in hand, and he's sitting a desk, two desks behind yours. Shoko and Suguru are still on their way, and he's taken this opportunity to ask you what he's been dying to.

Satoru's eyes widen at your response.

"If you know you're weak, why do you try so hard? It's kind of pathetic, you know." His brows furrow, glasses sliding down his nose bridge as he tilts his head.

"I- because, I'm selfish, I guess." You say softly.

There it is again. That annoying soft tone of voice that makes his chest hurt whenever he hears it.

"I know I'm weak, but I want to keep trying. I want to fight. One day, I want to be able to repay everyone for everything they've done for me. Yaga - sensei, Shoko, Suguru, Ken, Yuu. Even you, Gojo - san. I want you to be able to rely on me. I want to be able to protect innocent people like you guys do. So I hope you can bear with me for a little more, Gojo - san. I'm sorry for being such a burden, but I promise I'll pay you back." You say earnestly, looking Gojo in the eye.

Satoru's eyes widen, and he's silent for a moment. Before he bursts out laughing.

You suddenly feel embarrassed. You were being serious and heartfelt, and all Gojo does in response is laugh.

"What's with that? Did you quote that from an anime?" He cackles, hitting the desk with one hand and holding his stomach with the other.

"I- I did not! I was being honest!" You defend, feeling the heat tinting your cheeks.

"If- if you really want to repay me, buy me something sweet from the vending machine." Satoru stutters between fits of giggles.

"OK, I'm on it." You nod, turning on your tail to leave the class. A hand grabs your shoulder, stopping you.

"Where are you going?" Satoru asks, leaning down to look you in the eye.

"The vending machine?" You reply, brows furrowed in confusion.

"You're going now?"

"Yeah? I'll be back really quickly."

Satoru scoffs, but there's a smile on his face nonetheless.

"Really? I'll time you then. You have 5 minutes." He challenges, smirking as he tilts his head at you.

"5- 5 minutes?" You stutter, eyes wide. The vending machine was on the other side of the school. There's no way you'd make it back in 5 minutes.

"Yeah. The clock is ticking. Didn't you say you'd pay me for saving your butt all those times?" He mocks.

Satoru's eyes widen as you put down your bag, determination clear on your face.

"I did. I might not be back in 5 minutes, but I'll be back in less than 10!"

"Hey, wait-"

And with that, you've rushed out the classroom, leaving Satoru absolutely bewildered. As he sticks his head out the door, watching you run and almost slip multiple times, Satoru thinks he's figured it out. He understands why Shoko and Suguru keep you around.

You're amusing. And he wants to get closer to you.

Unfortunately, things never go as planned. And if Satoru had known the outcome before, he would have tried to get to know you much sooner.

Things change quickly when you're a Jujutsu Sorceror. People come and go, live, and die. They change, they evolve. People grow apart, and people grow closer.

Regardless, it's not a pleasant feeling when you lose someone close to you. 

Gojo Satoru had never thought the day would come when he'd feel regret. He was the strongest, after all. Everything he wanted he got. The world was his oyster. Money, power, good looks, everything. So it's safe to say that loss was also a new concept to him.

A feeling he decided he'd prefer to live without.

It hurt in a way he couldn't explain. He felt as if he couldn't breathe, as if there were something heavy on his chest. Almost as if he were having an out of body experience but could feel whatever the stranger he saw when he looked in the mirror felt. Pain. Anger. Despair.

Cold and light. That's how your body felt in his arms. He couldn't bear to look at the white cloth covering it. This, this couldn't be you. This body in his arms, the broken shards of its head cutting into the cloth.

Yet it was still vivid. Amanai Riko running out and finding him, letting him know that you had died saving her. A bullet straight to the head. Pushing her into Suguru's arms and telling him to run with your last breath. Riko's tear filled face as she begged for him to help Suguru because she couldn't bear to have anyone else die because of her.

Since then, he's felt numb. It hasn't faded. The coldness in his skin, the haze of his reality, brain clouded as it was forced to process the events that had taken place.

"Suguru... should we kill them all? I probably wouldn't feel anything right now."

Did he say something? The words don't register in his mind. Was that his voice? Raw and soft.

Them. The higher-ups. If only he had known earlier that they were supportive of your death. That there was a bounty for your head somewhere.

He didn't know why. He didn't know anything. You had kept so much to yourself. Just what were you dealing with alone? All this time, smiling wide, eyes always sparkling, hiding everything behind your carefree, happy - go - lucky persona.

You didn't deserve this. You of all people. You weren't weak. You were sweet, kind, caring, and selfless to a fault.

This was not you. Lifeless in his arms. You were never this cold.

He remembered it, how warm your hands were all those time your fingers brushed his forehead to check if he was well, when your fingers brushed his whenever you handed him something, how warm they were when you held his face in your hands and scolded him for being reckless. He remembered it vividly.

What would you say if you saw him now? The exhaustion in his face, the blankness in his eyes, the way his- his hands were... trembling?

He could hear your voice, clear as day.

"Gojo - san! What happened to you!"

"You should really take care of yourself more, what were you thinking?"

"I don't care if you're one of the strongest! You're a teenager. Right now, you're just Satoru, and you're going to learn to be kinder to yourself. You- you don't deserve this."

What did Satoru deserve? Was it really kindness? Care? Gentleness? Love? He had messed up. If he had been stronger, he could have saved you. If he had been stronger, you wouldn't be dead in his arms.

What was the point of awakening his powers when they weren't there when it mattered? What was the point of being the strongest if he couldn't protect the people he cared about? The people he loved?

What made matters worse was finding out the higher-ups were happy you were gone. The people that had singlehandedly been the cause for his suffering. His. Suguru's. Shoko's. Yours. Those filthy old bags who only thought of themselves.

What would really happened if he killed them all? Would it really be such a bad thing? Weren't they supposed to be the pillars of the Jujutsu world? The elders for people to look up to and learn from. A symbol of hope, something, anything even remotely positive, beneficial to the future of the young next generation of Jujutsu Sorcerors?

All they had done was applaud the death of someone innocent. A teenager. A child. How dare these self-righteous ba-

Your hand falls from the covers of the white sheet, hanging limply.

Satoru's brain goes blank. A pale arm, an empty hand, and familiar phosphophyllite fingernails.

"No need. It's meaningless." Suguru's voice is low, as if the reality that you're gone hasn't hit him yet. His eyes linger on your hand. The palm that patted his back, the fingers that ran through his hair, the hand that was so warm in his.

Before he can stop himself, he finds his own hand grasping it. It's cold. He drops it like the contact physically hurt him.

"Without the higher-ups, the Jujutsu world will go up in flames. And even if they die, there's the possibility even worse people will come into power. Killing them won't bring her back either."

His words don't make sense, even to him, but Suguru utters them nonetheless. The look in Satoru's eye is enough to tell him that if he doesn't do anything, today will mark the beginning of a massacre. And although he feels the same anger Satoru does, Suguru's moral compass, as well as his understanding of the type of person you are... stops him.

"Meaning... huh?" Satoru repeats.

The Satoru in front of him is not the Satoru Suguru knows. The playful, snarky, overburdened boy replaced by something else. Something unfamiliar. Something... cold.

"Do we need that?"

Suguru hesitates for a split second. The girl in Satoru's arms is just as unfamiliar. A bubbly, bright, kind girl replaced by something else. Something unfamiliar. Something... almost sinful. A shell. An empty shell. The existence it harboured long gone. A disgrace to the being it had once been.

"Yeah. It's very important... for sorcerors."

Your corpse wouldn't decompose. The crystallisation forming a perfect seal to your body, and perhaps that's why they can't bring themselves to immediately bury you.

Clinging onto the false hope that perhaps you'd wake up, bounce back like always. Familiar head of teal hair poking over Suguru's shoulder, a second softer set of footsteps padding behind Satoru's, a warm hand flinching at the touch of Shoko's cold ones.

It's sickening. How quiet everything has become in your absence. How the shadows seem darker due to the absence of your light.

Perhaps you wouldn't know it, but your death was beneficial in a way. Suguru spiralled into depression but your words of the past kept him strong, and somehow, he managed to graduate with Satoru and Shoko.

They left an empty seat between them at graduation. Your certificate is still in Shoko's office to this day.

Your warnings and nagging that reminded everyone of their mother saved Haibara's life. You had always told them to never accept missions alone, and it was thanks to your words ringing in his head that Nanami became paranoid while Haibara was out on a mission. This led to him going out to check on Haibara and ended in him saving his life.

It was almost idealistic how almost everyone graduated that year. A rare thing in the Jujutsu World to have so many young people survive.

Satoru jokes its because you took on the unwanted burden and closed the gates of Heaven yourself. You always did. Eating the bitter parts of his food that he didn't like, letting everyone choose first when Yaga gave you rewards, not touching your food until everyone had started eating. You always took on the unpleasantries so that everyone else could live without knowing suffering.

Why did everyone deserve happiness except for you?

Why did everyone deserve to live except for you?

"Gojo - Sensei."

"So even Sensei sleeps, huh?"

"Of course he does. What kind of nonsense is that?"

Satoru's eyelids flutter. He pulls up his blindfold, his vision coming into focus as he sees a blurry image of his students.

For a split moment, he's in high school again. He's in his second year, and he's sleeping before class. He hears soft footsteps approach him. Feels someone lean down near him, but he's not scared. Not even annoyed.

Rather, he plays dumb and waits in anticipation. There's butterflies bursting in his chest, a smile pulling at his face that's hidden in his arms. Smirking at the familiar scent of yuzu and caramel engulfing his senses. He'd chosen it, after all.

"Gojo - san? Wake up, class is about to start."

"Gojo - sensei!"

But when his visions focuses fully, he realises it's been 12 years and his beloved students have visited his office.

"Oh, he's awake!"

There's a red rim to Satoru's eyes, but it's almost unnoticeable. He smiles before pulling his blindfold back down.

"Please don't fall asleep after summoning us all here." Megumi states.

Satoru stands up, and Yuji and Nobara are quick to fight over who gets to sit on his chair.

"What are you smiling about?"

It's today. By 4 that morning, Satoru had found himself sat in front of a familiar grave. He was always the first to visit. He brings a bouquet of white heliotrope and places it on the grave. He crouches in front of it, his blindfold tucked away in his pocket.

"Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you. Happy Birthday, dear Y/n. Happy Birthday to you."

If there's one thing Satoru wishes, it's that he was able to tell you his feelings truthfully while you were still alive. It's unhealthy, but he finds himself uttering the same three words on every occasion to a stone in the ground.

If only he could have seen your pretty face while he uttered them in person.

Satoru doesn't know if he believes in the afterlife, but he hopes you're listening. And maybe, just maybe, you're screaming at the top of your lungs, repeating the words in hopes he'd somehow hear.

"It's nothing."

A lie. Because deep down, Satoru knows he's thinking about a certain place, a certain person.

Maybe in his next life, he can finally go home to you.

[leilani-lily]

~Oh Deer~ (Chapter 1)

... So this idea for an Alastor x reader (kinda?) story popped in my brain, and has refused to leave me no matter how hard I try.

Have I written fanfiction recently? Hell no.

Do I even know how to write for an AroAce character? No but I'm gonna do my damndest to represent him properly (and also relying on outer sources so I'm not offending anyone).

Do I feel like a complete fool for being sucked back into the fanfiction world and re-entering with a freakin Hazbin Hotel fic? ABSOOOO-FREAKIN-LUTELY.

But here we are. The writing gods have spoken. And they have declared that I write this story out so my poor brain can focus on other things like work.

Figured I'd share so it's just not on my computer all lonely. Will be a slow burn so fair warning. Let's be real, the deer boi needs love. But not overly romantic love. Just, someone he ends up really caring about and becoming his favourite.

SYNOPSIS: AroAce! Alastor x Chef!Singer! Reader. The hotel is looking to hire a chef to prepare meals for the staff/guests. Somehow you're hired and you begin your new life. And somehow end up becoming close to a certain Radio Demon. Word Count: 1.8 K

Chapter 1 under the cut. Enjoy I guess? ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Ok, deep breaths y/n. Remember to smile.

You felt your lips curl up into a strained grin as if to fight off the nerves in your chest, your grip tightening on the flyer in your fist. This could go either two ways. One, you get the job and are able to live a life of somewhat normality. Or two, you get hung from the tippy top of the building by your own intestines. With your legs chopped off. And one of your arms sticking out of your ass.

Gotta love Hell and it’s creative subjects.

You shake your head out of those terrible thoughts, surely it wouldn’t be that bad?? When you saw the original broadcast on the 666 News, you couldn’t stop thinking how nice the Princess of Hell actually was. And building an entire hotel to help her subjects reform into something better was, perhaps a little optimistic in your opinion, but it made you admire her gumption and her love for her subjects.

So later when you found the flyer in search of a chef at the very same establishment the princess was hoping to fill… well, it somehow managed to get you all the way here. Standing at the doorsteps of the very lonely looking hotel on the hill. 

You had to admit it wasn’t the look you had imagined, but hey, this was Hell. You had seen worse. And everyone has to start somewhere. Including yourself, arm still poised ready to knock yet not yet making the motion.

You felt so stupid, you had been standing here for almost 10 minutes now just trying to get the courage to enter the damn building. You sigh to yourself and shake out the jitters. Alright, let’s just do this. Once again, you smile, puff out your chest and raise your arm high in the air, ready to strike with a newfound courage.

“Well folks, looks like the little lady is finally ready to take the leap! Will she follow through with her actions? Or will she choke and back out of the fight? Let’s tune in and find out~”

You felt your heart nearly leap out of your chest as you whip your head around to look behind you. A tall demon clad in red and ruby eyes stood behind you, a wickedly wide grin filling his face as he points what appears to be a microphone in your direction. You stare at it dumbly, then make eye contact with him again. He remains poised, half lidded eyes seeming to hold a sparkle of impish joy. His eyes flicker from you, to your raised arm, and back to you. After a embarrassingly long time of connecting the dots, you finally extend your arm closer to the door, never breaking focus on the demon behind you (you can't help but notice he raises his microphone even closer to you), and give the door a good solid knock.

“AND SHE’S DONE IT FOLKS, what a display!!” He pulls the microphone back to himself, as you continue to stare dumbfounded “The form, the elegance, it could almost make a grown Imp cry. Let's give her a hand people.” He begins to clap as a roar of applause plays from… somewhere.

You couldn’t tell if this guy was being sarcastic or genuine, but the whole absurdity of it all, plus the bundle of nerves you were feeling earlier, seemed to bubble up inside of you and you couldn't help a little snort escape. The red demon’s grin widened as he ceases his clapping, stepping closer to you as you continue to giggle.

“Ahhh now isn’t that better. A much nicer smile than the one you were faking earlier. Besides, there’s no need to be so shy my dear. This hotel is always happy to accept wayward demons looking for reformation!”

Upon hearing his words, you turn to face him and put your hands up “Oh nono, I’m not here to-”

“Ohoho~! and what’s this you have here?” Before you can finish your sentence, the tall demon ripped the flyer out of your hand and inspected it quickly, before turning back to you. His half-lidded gaze was now round with surprise, his grin becoming even wider (which you didn’t even think was possible).

“So THAT explains the nerves from before! And here I was just thinking you were a timid little thing. But a business woman! Now that I can admire.” He smiles at you almost impressed and leans in closer, your noses almost touching.

“Tell me my dear, can you make a good jambalaya? Or perhaps a hearty gumbo with cornbread on the side~?”

You were so flustered with the speed of everything happening (plus the close proximity of this demon you had just met certainly didn’t help). All you could manage was a jumbled “Uhh, well yes I-!”

“WONDERFULLLL~!" He straightens up again and you sigh with relief. “I’ll be sure to test you on such skills. But for now we should-”

The front doors of the hotel suddenly burst open and a short gray female stands before you, with long silvery hair and an eyepatch. She looks at you for a moment, before turning her gaze at the red demon and giving him a scowl.

“Alastor, what the HELL took you so long, you should’ve been back ages ago. And quit creeping out new potential clients.” Her gaze adverts back to you, expression softening ever so slightly, “Seriously, if he’s bothering you-” “Oh Vaggie my dear, no need to be so hostile. I was simply going over business with our newest chef!” he brings his long fingers up behind your shoulder and pulls you in close against his chest, making you yelp a moment before regaining composure. You could sense this so-called 'Vaggie' demon tense, eyes flickering between the two of you. You felt as if your brain was sputtering to catch up with the current conversation (he WORKS here??!)  before finally realizing what he had just called you. You sneak a look at him, and he gives you a quick wink before focusing back on the female before him. 

“Now be a doll and have Nifty tidy up one of the rooms, preferably one of a reasonable size and close to the kitchen. And call upon Charlie as well, she’ll DEFINITELY want to meet our newest addition!”

The female in front of you shot a glare at Alastor (you quickly noted these two did not seem to get along), but then flicked her gaze back at you. After a moment, she sighed and turned back into the building as she followed the male demon’s orders. You couldn’t help but notice how Alastor’s grip on you tightened ever so slightly as a chuckle escaped his lips, static humming ever so louder in amusement. He himself began to walk into the hotel, guiding you along with him.

"Now then. We’ll have to introduce you to everyone, as well as get you to fill in the proper paperwork, give you a proper tour of the place and-!”

“Wait wait,” you stop walking, causing him to halt. You notice a slight twitch in his eye and his hand squeezes you for a moment. He doesn’t like to be interrupted, duly noted. You take a breath.

“Sorry, uh for interrupting” That seemed to please him. “But does this mean… I got the job?? You don’t need a resume or a test or…?”

Alastor let out a guffaw of amusement “Why of course my dear! As long as you remain true to your word of being able to cook a good New Orleans dish, that’s all the proof I’ll need! There hasn’t been many a demon coming here interested in the job, so I say your timing couldn’t be more perfect!”

Well that was the easiest damn interview you’ve ever done. You felt yourself exhale a sigh of relief as you smile up to the tall demon. 

“Wow, that’s… that’s amazing, thank you so much.” He gave you a half lidded smirk, clearly enjoying being praised “So… does this make you my boss, Mr…?” 

You heard the sound of a record screech as his eyes widened in surprise. Hand finally leaving your shoulder and placing it on his own chest he began to laugh heartilly, a laugh track playing in the background. You stood there confused for a moment before he finally responded.

“Ohhh my goodness me, my mother would be rolling in her grave if she ever heard about this. How rude of me to be so forward without properly introducing myself!” One minute he was standing right beside you, and then the next he had sunken like a shadow into the floor, only to appear in front of you a few steps ahead. With grace and suave you didn’t realize he possessed, he gave a small hand flourish before bowing in front of you.

“I am Alastor, also known as the Radio Demon. I happen to be the Hotel’s Facility Manager, but you’ll find Miss Morningstar is the real ringleader around here,” You notice the corner of his lip twitch at that last remark, but you pay no mind to it. “If you ever have any questions or concerns, do not hesitate to reach out to me.” You smile and dip yourself in your own little curtsy as he straightens up.

“My name is y/n, and I’ll be sure to do my best to serve you and this hotel, sir.” Alastor seemed to hum with approval as he looks down at you. “I guess I just have one more question for you, if that’s alright.” 

“Why of course dear y/n, whatever would it be?”

“Well, I uh…” You feel yourself becoming flustered at the question, and the radio demon seemed to notice. Cocking a head to the side, he takes a step forward, opening his arms into a friendly gesture.

“Come now dearest, you can ask me anything! If we’re going to be working together, we have to be honest with each other~” You look up at him and sigh, knowing he was right. With a gulp you straighten your back and wear a serious expression.

“How long did you see me standing by the door?” 

Alastors face didn’t waver, it was hard to tell what was going on in his mind. Then his smile grew into what looked like an amused, smug expression before answering.

“The whole time.”

You groaned and felt your head slap against your hand, making Alastor burst into laughter yet again at your expense. He was there watching the entire time?? Satan’s Ass you felt like such an idiot. Was he waiting for you to move so he could get in the building?? The more you thought about it the more you wanted to sink into the floor and die, for a 2nd time. The radio demon wiped a stray tear from his eye.

“Ohhhh y/n, what a riot you are. I can already tell that this is going to be fun~”

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First chapter hoorayyy ♡〜٩( ˃▿˂ )۶〜♡ Not sure how often I'll be updating, hopefully soon as I'm currently inspired. Thanks for reading thus far!FIRST (You're here!) PREVIOUS (Doesn't exist ( • ᴗ - ) ✧) NEXT

[oskea93]

✦ It Had to be You: Three (part one) ✦

John “Bucky” Egan x OC Gale “Buck Cleven x OC

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and not associated with the real people mentioned from the show. This is simply based on the portrayals of the actors playing these characters. ⚠️ Warning for this chapter: Cursing, mention of death, suicidal ideations, drunkenness. ⭐️ Taglist: @alanadetigy

● If you would like to be tagged, just comment below ●

I visited Gale’s grave every day for a month straight. I guess wishfully thinking that he would rise from the grave like Lazarus – taking me back in his arms and whispering that it was only a dream. The winter haze was starting to turn warmer – a clear sign that spring was on the horizon. Springtime was Gale’s favorite – just sitting on the porch – plowing the garden that he swore would turn out 50 pounders. I could still see him sitting atop the tractor he was so proud of – buying it from an old timer at the local auction for ten dollars and a gold pocket watch.

He was able to work one full season in that garden before he went off to join the war effort. He promised that as soon as he returned, he would have me out there helping, learning the tricks and trades of being a farmer’s wife. We both knew deep down that would never happen – my hands never meeting the touch of dirt in my 22 years of life. I wanted it to happen though. I wanted to break out of the debutante shell – learn to be self-sufficient and not have to rely on my husband to do everything. Gale was the one that was gonna show me the new world I craved – the new world I needed to survive.  

“Figured I’d find you here.”

I rolled my eyes as John made his way over to where I sat, his presence being one that I could live without. Even after the little incident of me throwing his belongings off the deck, he still stuck around. He had set up house in the dilapidated barn that Gale planned to fix up. If it was anyone other than John Egan, I would have insisted they stay in the comfort of the house, but he deserved the cold rain to fall on him during the night.

He took a seat on the grass next to me, his hand touching the mound of dirt that was still settling on Gale’s grave. His throat clearing as his emotions began to get the best of him.

“Your mother called – wanted to make sure you’re doing okay.” My gaze steadied on the plaque in front of me. “Told her that you were out here.”

“I don’t need you talking to my mother for me.”

An exasperated sigh slipped past his lips as the air around us became tense, “You know I’m just trying to help, right?” His eyes setting on my side profile as my eyes stayed glued on Gale’s grave. “If it wasn’t me here –“He paused for a moment. “You’d be in a world of hurt.”

“You wouldn’t have to be here if you were there for Gale when he and the other men jumped over that wall like you told him to do, Major.” Our eyes connecting. “I’d have my husband at my side, but instead I have you.” I hastily removed myself from the ground. “And I have my husband buried six feet in the ground where he’ll stay forever, but I should be so flattered to have the Major John Egan to make sure I’m not in a world of hurt.”

“Carolina-“ He started to speak as he stood.

I raised my hand to stop him, “No-“My tone stern. “I don’t want to hear another word from your sorry mouth, John.” Tears starting to dwell in my eyes. “You can go to the pits of hell and rot for eternity for all I care.”

My feet started to move across the growing grass – signs of life at every turn – except the one I longed for. I was in my own world of hatred that I didn’t even hear John’s heavy footsteps behind me, my body being jerked into his as his fingers wrapped tightly around my arms.

“Get your fucking hands off me!” I fought against his touch. “You’re the one who should’ve died! That bullet was meant for your head – not Gale’s.” My voice screeched with anger and agony.

John's grip tightened momentarily before he released me, the pain in his eyes mirroring my own anguish. "You think I don't know that?” his voice raw and broken. "Do you think I don't live with that every single day?"

I turned away, wiping the tears that had begun to stream down my face. "Knowing it and feeling it are two different things, John. I can't just forgive and forget. Not when my life has been torn apart."

He took a step back, giving me space, his hands falling limply to his sides. "Carolina, I can't change what happened. I can't bring Gale back. But I can be here for you, whether you want me to be or not. I owe him that much."

I scoffed, my heart a storm of emotions. "You owe him more than that. You owe him your life."

For a moment, silence hung between us, heavy and suffocating. The world around us continued to move, indifferent to our pain. I wanted to scream, to make it stop, to rewind time and change everything. But I couldn't. All I had was this reality, this grief, and the man who stood before me, a painful reminder of what I had lost.

“You ruined my life, John. You ruined the life that I was supposed to have with Gale – all the promises and dreams we had. “ I paused. “All that’s gone and now I have nothing to live for.”

“Killing yourself won’t bring him back.” His tone straight forward. “Killing yourself would be the selfish option. Trust me, I’ve thought about it too, but I know Gale wouldn’t want that.”  

My breath hitched as his words cut through the haze of my grief. "Selfish?" I echoed, incredulous. "You think I haven't thought about what Gale would want? He was my husband, John. My everything. I know him better than anyone, and I know he wouldn't want me to be this miserable, but I can't help it. Every day is a struggle just to breathe."

John's face softened; his eyes filled with a sorrow that mirrored my own. "I know, Carolina. I know it's hard. But giving up won't honor his memory. Living, even when it hurts, is the only way to keep his spirit alive."

Tears streamed down my face, and I felt a deep, aching void where my heart used to be. "It's not fair," I whispered, my voice breaking. "We had plans. We were going to start a family, travel the world, grow old together. How am I supposed to do any of that without him?"

He took a cautious step closer, his presence a tentative offer of support. "You don't have to do it alone. There are people who care about you, who want to help you through this. I know I'm the last person you want to hear that from, but it's true."

I shook my head, frustration and despair warring within me. "You don't understand. Every time I look at you, I'm reminded of what I've lost. Of what you took from me."

John's expression tightened with pain, but he didn't back down. "I understand more than you think. I lost a brother that day. Not just a comrade, but someone I cared about deeply. And yes, I was responsible for the mission, but I never wanted this outcome. I never wanted to hurt you."

"You never wanted to hurt me?" I scoffed, a bitter edge to my voice. "You're the one who pressured Gale to go with you to England – writing him letters and painting a picture of how exciting the missions were." Each word dripped with resentment as I laid bare the betrayal that had festered in my heart.

I took a moment to collect my thoughts, the memories of happier times with Gale now tainted by the presence of the Major. "I wish Gale had never met you at that training facility," I continued, my tone laced with regret and anger. "I wish you had never come into our lives, John Egan."

The air fell silent, the weight of my words lingering between us. John's gaze flickered, a shadow of guilt passing over his features before he attempted to muster a response. But no words came, the truth of my accusations hanging heavy in the space between us, a rift that seemed impossible to bridge…

“Okay ladies, so I was thinking that the theme this year be focused around new beginnings. Something pure and wholesome,” Victoria announced, her voice carrying a sense of authority that demanded attention.

The room fell into a hushed silence as the other women seated around the table nodded in agreement. The debutant ball, an annual event that had become a symbol of prestige and philanthropy in the community, was a significant undertaking that required meticulous planning and flawless execution.

Sitting beside me, my mother beamed with pride, her hand resting gently on my leg as if to anchor me in my seat. “Oh Victoria, I think that is a fabulous idea,” she chimed in, her enthusiasm palpable.

I stifled a sigh, accustomed to my mother's unwavering ambition for me to shine at the debutant ball. Ever since I was a young girl, she had envisioned me as the belle of the ball, clad in a perfect white gown, with hair styled to perfection, and a date handpicked from the cream of society.

As I glanced around the room at the other debutantes and their eager mothers, I couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. Many of the young men who had once vied for the chance to escort a debutante to the ball were now mere shadows of their former selves. Some were confined to wheelchairs, their once-vibrant spirits dimmed by tragedy, while others had met untimely ends, their promising futures cut short.

As the planning for the debutant ball continued, I couldn't help but notice the sea of young faces around me, each brimming with anticipation and excitement. Most of the girls who had signed up to participate seemed to view the ball as the pinnacle of their young lives, a chance to be the center of attention and bask in the admiration of others.

However, my own perspective had been irrevocably altered by recent events. The tragic loss of my husband had shattered my illusions of a fairy-tale existence, leaving me adrift in a world that now seemed hollow and insincere.

When Victoria turned to me, her voice cutting through the silence, I felt the weight of everyone's eyes on me. The women around the table, who had initially regarded me with pity and sympathy, now looked at me with a mix of curiosity and apprehension.

"Do you have any suggestions, Carolina?" Victoria's question hung in the air, waiting for a response.

I hesitated, unsure of how to navigate this unfamiliar terrain. The words felt stuck in my throat, a jumble of conflicting emotions and unspoken truths that I couldn't bring myself to articulate.

"No," I finally managed to say, the word coming out more curtly than I had intended. Victoria shifted uncomfortably in her seat, the tension in the room palpable as the other women exchanged uneasy glances.

As Victoria smoothly transitioned to discussing details with the other women in the room, a sense of relief washed over me, grateful to be momentarily spared from the spotlight. I observed with detached interest as their faces animated with enthusiasm, their voices rising and falling in a symphony of excitement and anticipation.

A pang of disconnection tugged at my heart as I contrasted their genuine enthusiasm with the emptiness I felt inside. The prospect of being paraded around like a prized possession at the debutant ball held no allure for me, a stark reminder of the superficiality and pretense that permeated this world of opulence and privilege.

"Darling, you're bringing everyone's mood down," my mother's gentle voice whispered in my ear, breaking through my reverie. I turned to meet her gaze, seeing a mixture of concern and expectation in her eyes.

"This is a joyous occasion. Will you please try to smile or look somewhat happy to be here?" she implored, her hand reaching out to touch mine in a gesture of reassurance.

I forced a tight-lipped smile, the muscles in my face aching from the effort. “Happy?” My voice tinged with bitterness, causing her to frown in disapproval.

She straightened in her chair, the delicate China teacup clutched in her hands as she met my gaze with a mixture of concern and determination. "Carolina, it's been almost two months," she began, her tone gentle but resolute. My head snapped in her direction, a flicker of defiance igniting within me as I anticipated the direction of her words.

"It's time to get on with the grief and start living your life again – be the old Carolina Clevens – the happy girl we all knew and loved," she urged, her words laced with expectation and a hint of impatience.

The weight of her words settled over me like a heavy shroud, pressing down on me with a force that was almost suffocating. The idea of returning to the person I used to be, of donning the mask of cheerfulness and ease that I had worn before my world was shattered, felt like an impossible task.

"Oh, I'm sorry, mother," I blurted out, my body turning towards her in haste. The words spilled out before I could stop them. "I didn't realize that grieving over my dead husband was only allowed for a certain time, and then it was time to act like he's not at the bottom of a hole turned into worm food." The ladies seated at our table glanced over with curiosity, their whispered conversations coming to a sudden halt.

My mother's expression hardened, her eyes narrowing as she processed my words. The tension in the air was palpable, and I could feel the weight of her unspoken disapproval. But I couldn't hold back the flood of emotions that had been simmering beneath the surface since my husband's passing.

"I guess when daddy dies, you'll get a day or two to grieve, and then I'll let you know when it's time to go back to your self-centered self," I continued, my voice trembling with a mix of anger and sadness. The words hung in the air, heavy with accusation and a lifetime of unspoken grievances.

The tension in the room was palpable as the gazes of the guests shifted between my mother and me. I could feel their eyes boring into me, their expressions a mix of surprise and discomfort at the sudden outburst. My mother's attempt at a smile seemed strained, a fragile façade barely concealing the turmoil beneath the surface.

“Fuck this.” I stumbled away from the table, my heart pounding in my chest. The room seemed to blur around me as I made my way towards the door, my mother's voice calling out my name like a distant echo in the chaos of my thoughts.

As the pricking feeling of tears threatened to overflow, I clenched my jaw, refusing to let them fall. I was tired of crying, tired of the pain that seemed to follow me wherever I went. With each step I took on the quiet street, I felt a sense of calm wash over me, the cool night air soothing my frayed nerves.

I slowed my pace, wanting to blend into the shadows, not wanting any more attention drawn to me. The streetlights cast a soft glow on the pavement, guiding my way as I navigated the unfamiliar paths. I didn't know where I was going, but one thing was clear – I didn't want my mother to find me.

I managed to dip into a hole in the wall bar – the patrons looking a bit shocked when I stepped through the doors. I wasn’t really a drinker – only partaking once in a blue moon – nothing to hard of course. I hesitantly took a seat at the bar, my white gloves causing those at the bar to look at me as if I was lost. I quickly removed the garments, stuffing them into my purse.

The older bartender gave me a reassuring smile as he placed a small napkin in front of me. “What can I get ya, miss?”

I hesitated, my mind racing as I tried to decide. Looking around, I noticed most of the patrons were nursing glasses filled with a rich, amber liquid. I pointed to one of the glasses at the end of the bar. “I’ll have whatever that is.”

The bartender followed my gaze and nodded, a knowing twinkle in his eye. "Whiskey it is," he said, reaching for a bottle on the top shelf. As he poured the drink, I took in my surroundings, the low murmur of conversations blending with the soft clinks of glasses and the faint strains of a jukebox in the corner.

He placed the glass in front of me with a gentle thud. "Here you go. Enjoy," he said, giving me an encouraging nod.

I wrapped my fingers around the cool glass, feeling the slight chill against my skin. Bringing it to my lips, I inhaled the strong, smoky aroma before taking a small sip. The liquid burned slightly as it went down, causing me to start coughing.

The bartender watched me for a moment, then leaned in slightly. "First time with whiskey?" he asked, his tone friendly and curious.

I nodded, setting the glass back on the bar. "Yeah, something like that."

He chuckled softly. "Well, it's an acquired taste for some, but it grows on you. Rough day?"

I sighed, feeling the weight of exhaustion settle over me. "You could say that."

He gave me a sympathetic look. "Well, you're in good company. This place has seen its share of weary souls. If you need anything, just holler."

I offered a small, grateful smile. "Thanks, I appreciate it."

As he moved on to attend to another customer, I took another sip of the whiskey, letting the warmth and the quiet ambiance of the bar start to work their magic. For the first time in what felt like forever, I felt a hint of relaxation begin to creep in…

“And then she starts saying that I need to stop crying over my dead husband—” I paused, taking a sloppy drink. “Who says something like that, especially to your goddamn daughter?” My words slurred together, the numerous glasses of whiskey casting a heavy fog over my mind.

The bartender, who had been listening patiently as he wiped down the counter, gave me a sympathetic look. "I'm sorry to hear that, miss. Some people just don't understand grief," he said gently, his voice a steady anchor in my storm of emotions.

“And then I got his friend, his co-pilot, the man responsible for sending Gale to his death, staying at my fucking house. Living out of the barn because I’m not gonna let that son of a bitch into my house—” My face twisted as the brown liquid burned its way down my throat. “And to think I liked that man—thought he was a good influence on my husband. John Egan is nothing but a snake in the grass. If he were to drop dead tonight, I wouldn’t even bury his body—I’d just let the buzzards pick away at him until his bones are dust.”

The bartender's eyes widened slightly, but he maintained his calm demeanor. He leaned in a bit closer, his voice low and soothing. "That's a lot to carry, miss.”

I slammed the glass down on the counter, the sound echoing through the bar. "You have no idea. Every time I see him, it's like a knife twisting in my gut. Gale trusted him and look where that got him."

The bartender stayed silent for a moment, then spoke carefully. "Now don’t take this the wrong way, miss, but it sounds like your husband’s friend was only doing what he thought was best."

I felt my eyes narrow as his words moved around my hazy brain, trying to find purchase. "What are you saying?" I asked, my voice sharper than I intended.

He held up a hand in a placating gesture. "Just hear me out. This John guy didn’t know that those Nazi pricks would shoot at your husband. You can’t place the blame on him. I’m sure the poor bastard is already blaming himself."

I stared at him, the anger bubbling up mixed with confusion and sorrow. "You think I should forgive him? After everything?"

The bartender shook his head slowly. "That’s a choose you’re gonna have to make on your own, sweetheart.

Instead of accepting his words like an adult, the whiskey took over instead. "Typical man," I muttered, the raspberries of disdain blowing from my lips. "Just like a man to take up for another man."

I downed what was left of my drink in one swift motion, the alcohol numbing the edges of my frayed emotions. The room seemed to spin around me as I clumsily pushed myself off the barstool, my movements unsteady and erratic.

"You don’t know anything!" I shouted, my voice rising above the din of the bar. "You're all a bunch of drunkards with no hope or future." The words spilled out of me like a torrent, fueled by a cocktail of frustration, bitterness, and a tinge of self-loathing.

Those that were left in the bar looked at me with empty eyes – not shocked by my appearance or attitude. Their gazes seemed to bore into me, indifferent to my outburst amidst the usual chaos of the night. "Gale Cleven was the best man that God ever created!" I proclaimed, my voice piercing through the haze of smoke and chatter, higher than the music playing in the background.

"Better than you," I declared, my finger pointing accusingly in the patrons' directions. "And you. And you too!" Each word was a dagger, fueled by a mix of defiance and desperation, cutting through the thick air of the bar like a blade.

The slamming of the front door snapped me out of my little tantrum as all eyes in the bar shifted towards the man who caused the ruckus. He stood there at the entrance, a lone figure in the dimly lit room, clad in his worn leather bomber jacket. His hands were stuffed in his trouser pockets, his stance exuding a quiet confidence that demanded attention. The sudden hush that fell over the bar was almost palpable, as if the very air held its breath in anticipation of what would come next.

"For fuck’s sake," I muttered under my breath, a heavy sigh slipping through my lips as I raked my hand through my messy curls.

I watched through hooded eyes as John stepped up to the bar. Our gazes met in a brief but charged moment, a silent exchange passing between us like a current.

As he ordered himself a glass of whiskey, the tension that surrounded just us seemed to thicken, palpable to those around us. The bartender, a silent observer to the unfolding drama, looked back and forth between us, piecing together that this was the man I had been rambling about just moments ago.

[slut4thebroken]

Exposure Therapy Prologue

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Jonathan Crane × reader

Summary | You find a new therapist who is more than willing to help you overcome your fears.

Warnings | 18+, talks about fear of being raped, talks about fear of being pregnant and giving birth, pretty much just a content warning for their conversation, the real bad stuff is in pt. 1

Words | 700

Notes | You don’t technically have to read this chapter, it just provides some more background for part 1.

Ao3 link | <3

Fic Masterlist

Main Masterlist

You anxiously sat down on the small couch, picking at your cuticles as you waited. 

“Are you nervous?” He asked, giving you a calming smile. 

“A little. Sorry, I’ve never done this before.” 

“It’s completely normal to be nervous during the first session, especially if you’ve never done anything like this before.” That calmed your nerves a little. “Let’s start simple. Why don’t you tell me why you’re here.” 

“Um… The fears that I have are getting a little out of control and affecting my everyday life, so I was hoping you could help me get over them. At least a little bit.” 

“Knowing you need help and taking the initiative to seek that help is already a really good start.” You gave him a shy smile at the praise, not sure how to respond. “Since this is a consultation, I’d like to know what fears you need help overcoming so I can figure out the best treatment for you. Is that alright?” 

“Yeah, of course. There are two main ones. Um… being- being raped and being pregnant or giving birth.” He scribbled quickly as you spoke and you waited anxiously for him to respond. 

“I want to better understand you. Is it alright if I ask some questions?” He asked, crossing his hands and resting them on the notebook in his lap. 

“Yes.” 

“Is there any past trauma that might’ve caused these fears?” You shook your head. “Let’s just focus on the first one for now. What do you think might be the cause?” 

“I guess just knowing how common it is? I feel like I’m living every single day just waiting to become part of the statistic.” 

“That must be pretty debilitating feeling that way. Is that stopping you from doing a lot of the things your peers do?” You just nodded in response. “And what about the other one? How is that affecting your everyday life?” 

“Um…” You bit your lip as your cheeks grew warm, realizing what you would have to explain to answer his question. “It’s- I don’t…” Looking away from him, you swallowed thickly. 

“There’s no need to be embarrassed. I’m here to help you, but you have to help me understand before I can do that.” You nodded in agreement, trying to force yourself to just say it. 

“I'm on birth control, but I still don’t feel like I can rely on that completely. And when boyfriends or whatever find out, they usually want to- to…”

“Not use a condom?” 

“Yes.” 

“But you don’t feel safe doing that?” You shook your head as you bit your bottom lip. “So it’s affecting your relationships. Is it affecting you individually as well?” 

“Well I mean, I… want to do that with them too.” 

“You have a breeding kink?” You stared at him with wide eyes, floundering for a response. He was unfazed by the inappropriate question though. 

“I wasn’t going to say it like that, but yeah.” 

“Kinks can often be coping mechanisms. Do you have any other that could be related?” 

“…Cnc?”  

“Is it easier to partake in that one because there’s no real risk?” 

“Yeah I guess so.” This time when he started writing, he took a little longer than the past few times. When he finally looked back up, he gave you a small smile. 

“I think I’m going to be able to help you, I already have a few treatments in mind. Thank you for being so open with me, I know it’s not easy talking about something so personal.” You nodded, not sure what to say. “We can start regular therapy but in the meantime I can prescribe you some medication for the anxiety.”

“Oh I don’t- I don’t know if I want to take medication.” He passed the pen over the paper in one stroke, striking something out. 

“The old fashion way then.” He smiled and you chuckled awkwardly, wondering if you messed up by saying that. It didn’t seem like you did? Maybe you should just agree since he thinks it’ll help? He cut off your over thinking before you had the chance to say you changed your mind. “Do you think once a week will be a good start?” 

“That sounds perfect.” 

Part 1

[kamisama1kiss]

Words counted: 1,000 ish

My first ever story posted here :D request should be open and I'm also up for criticism as for inproving my writing. I am also dyslexic, sorry beforhand. Enjoy ♡

Kai Smith Princess Au

It was warm and lit from the fire place being only a few feet away from where she sat, reading yet another romance novelle. She had placed herself with a small table in the corner of the castle library, the smell of burning pine wood lingerd in the air giving a home like feeling. There stood no other lights, relying on the fire place for lights making writing a tad bit eyestrining.

A semi loud creek screamed through the quiet library, snapping the princesses gaze to where the door is. Behold there stood the knight in shining armor that her father the King assigned her, clearly not trusting her. Seeing who it was her eyes want back to the page she previuslly was looking at.

"Good evening, Princess." A low, husky voice spoke up sitting down in the chair opposite of my own. "What is the book worm reading this time? A comedy? Or..." pousing as he leaned his elbow on the wooden rounded table, pointing at the red leather coverd book in my hands. Looking up at him with a small smile resting on my face, watching him guess. "..Most likely a romance?" He crooked his eyebrow at me.

"Hm yeah, it is another Romance book." Closing the book in the process, laying it down on the table. The knights face beams with joy, pleased with the achivments, his world known grin spread across his lips. "I knew that" leaning back in the chair crossing his arms. "It's not like I read them all the time, no no. Not at all." Scoffing with my answer not making him loose any pride.

"Whatever you say Princess. Anyways, I'm here because the King wanted to tell you some informasjon about the upcoming ball." He informed me as his gaze jumped around the room before landing on me, staying as such. "Okay, I will talk to him soon. It's not that urdgent of a topic anyhow." Shurgging my shoulders as my eyes look at the red leather book, carressing the spine of the book with my one hand. Shifting my view up to the spikey brown haired knight.

The fire place brighten his features I hadn't truly noticed before now, soft lights brown freckles skatterd on the bridge of his nose only a few but enough to be noticable. Half a eyebrow slit on his left side followed with it going under his eye, a decent long scar being the reasoning behind it. He is an attractive man. I won't fool myself.

Nodding to what I had said "Well, how about you explain what happens in the little book of yours than? As you said the topic wasn't that urdgent" Soinding intreged with the book, leaning forwards again resting both his arms on the table while still looking at me. "I haven't gotten far but I can tell what I've been able to catch so far." Admitting the book was new from not long before he arrived.

"Go ahead, I have all day" Dragning the word 'all' a few seconds, a small little chuckle escaped my lips. "The book is about a Girl who wishes to find her true lover, but her family tries to stop her at every chance they've got. She goes through blood and mud to let alone escape her so called family..." stopping myself for a second seeing as the knights eyes were watching me, as if every word from my mouth was analysed by him. "...And that's what has happened so far. I've only gotten to about chapter 4"

"Seems brutal, very brutal. How did you even find this book?" Questioning me as leaning back into the wooden chair. "One of maids recommended it to me actually, so far I like it. It drags me into the book, making it difficult for me to stop reading. It hadn't been for you i would have gotten further" Jokingly speaking.

A heartfelt laugh came from him, it was short but at the same time sweet to listen to. "I'm sure you'll be able to read it just fine later this evening after I've left you alone. Just my duties your highness" Tauntingly speaking as he winked at me, a grin smakked on his lips. "I am very thankful for that time." Coming back with a what I think is a comeback, only Seeing as it made him laugh again. His eyes squinted and his dimples became even more visible. In this very moment it felt as time almost slowed, he was natrually apealing for my eyes to look at.

Snapping out as fast as I started "Well, it has been a nice talk but I should get going. My father would get worried if I would go to him." I told him, standing up from my chair before pushing it into the table again. Moving some hair/braids/hijab from my face, it moved forwards a bit and annoyed me greatly. A small sulk bade it's way to his lips "Really? You will be missed Princess." He spoke almost with a hint of admiration lacing in his tone fall, it squeezed my heart a little. He stood up, taller than me.

Looking down at me from his hight, grabbing my hand as he placed a small kiss on my knuckles, his warm breath fanned my skin leaving goosebumps up my spine. "Until later, your highness." Looking back at me with a smirk. My face became warm from the affection he showed, trying to push it down but it was difficult as my heart was about to burst out of my chest. "Until later, Kai"

We're the last words we exchange before I left the library to continue my Princess responsibilities, my heart was aching as I walked, softly touching the spot he had kissed on my hand feeling my face warming up again. Little did I know if I had turned around again a faint red would be visible on his face as well companyed with a genuine smile. "Until later, (Name)"

[sloth-babied]

Love Will Find a Way

Sam Obisanya x reader

Summary: After a year of trying to get over Sam Obisanya, Colin insists you attend a speed dating event with him. 

And would you look at that, Sam’s here too. 

Contains: Drinking, light angst, and fluff. No use of y/n.

Word count: 2.8k

Notes: The fact that there aren't a numerous amount of fics about Sam is actually a crime so I had to step in.

Enjoy!

“Welcome to the first day of the rest of your life,” Colin reads the pink chalk-written words on a wooden A-frame sign in front of the restaurant. He turns to you, pursing his lip while nodding as if he were impressed. 

You simply smile and nod, indulging your friend who suggested you come here with him.

You observe the room once you two enter—the quintessential red and pink balloons at every corner of the room, including pink lanterns hanging from the ceiling. Red and pink decor are set all around the place with a banner hanging maliciously over the seating area:

FOR SINGLES READY FOR LOVE

You sigh before you continue to look around. There’s a lot of older people here; people in their mid-forties and up. Makes sense. Those around your age usually rely on dating apps, but there are a few exceptions which, you guess, is a relief. 

You’re able to identify two other young people and realize one of them is Isaac. And the other is…oh, fuck, oh, fuck, oh, fuck.

You grab Colin’s bicep, hoping to reroute your plans. “You know what, actually I think I change my mind—”

“Wait, is that Isaac and Sam?” He notices, raising his damn hand excitedly. “Isaac! Sam!” Colin places his fists on his hips, shaking his head. “Who knew they’d be here?”

You give him a hardened stare before offering the other two footballers a disingenuous smile as they walk your way, drinks in hand.

Naturally your eyes drift to Sam and you can’t resist admiring his outfit for the night. A black turtleneck and brown khakis.

This is going to be a long night.

“Wild seein’ you here, innit?” Isaac says.

Colin nods fervently. “Yeah, weird coincidence.”

Sam gestures his drink in your direction. “What brings you here?

Oh, god, he’s talking to you.

You scratch the back of your neck nervously. “Colin was nice enough to invite me,” you tell him, though ‘nice’ is not the word you would honestly use. ‘Cruel’ sounds more accurate, but you digress.

Sam smiles thoughtfully, though he can’t say he doesn’t feel as awkward as you. “I’m sure you’ll find a match. Anyone would be lucky to have you.”

You ignore Isaac and Colin glancing at each other, gripping the strap of your tote bag just a tad bit tighter. “And to you, also,” you shoot him a finger-gun with your free hand. “ As well. Too.”

You’re insufferable, but Sam chortles anyway, thank goodness for that.

“Finally got Sam off Bantr.” Isaac pats Sam’s back.

Sam shakes his head. “I deleted my account a long time ago.”

And you know why. It’s hard to think about Sam’s relationship with Rebecca without feeling a little jealous…okay, a lot.

Sam sips his punch. “Isaac suggested I come here, so here I am.”

Ding, ding, ding!

You all turn your heads to a woman holding a call bell in her hand. “The event begins in five minutes!”

And so the night begins.

Each date feels prolonged despite being on a three-minute timer. Many people who are much older than you discuss topics beyond your time or too early in your longevity to experience. And when you meet people around your age, well, let's say a severe lack of chemistry is the only thing that comes into mind.

Admittedly, you debated pregaming before Colin picked you up. You decided against it until you saw Sam here, therefore during the five-minute break, you mumble, "Eh, what the hell?" to yourself before sneaking off to the bar, ordering a shot of tequila before you and Sam meet.

Liquid courage.

Sam greets you with a pursed smile, waving his questionnaire card (cutely) and taking a seat in front of you. "Hi."

“Hey.” You smile back a bit more enthused than usual. Less nervous. More loose.

“So how are your dates going?” Sam wiggles his eyebrows.

You lean forward closer to him, balancing a pen between two fingers. “Hmm. Oh, see that guy over there?”

Sam’s head stealthily turns to the man you point at—slick back gray hair with a salt and pepper beard. 

“Apparently, he owns 0.5% of West Ham.” 

Sam looks back at you, leaning closer. “Dealbreaker?”

You nod exaggeratedly, leaning away. “Very much so, Sam. You know I’m ride-or-die for Richmond.”

He pats his chest, smiling playfully. “I’m flattered.”

From two different areas of the room, Colin and Isaac are seated with their respective dates. Colin and Issac narrow their eyes on you and Sam, shushing their poor dates whenever they attempt to speak.

When you feel your neck practically burning, you swivel your stool, catching them do a questionable job at pretending they weren’t just hyper-focused on you and Sam.

Colin mouths fake words to his very confused date who will certainly write him off later. Isaac looks upward, chin on his palm, eyes squinted, and mouth parted as if he were in deep thought.

“Okay…” You murmur to yourself before facing Sam again. “How about you, huh? Meet anyone you fancy yet?”

He offers a sigh, tilting his head towards his previous date. “See that woman over there?”

You discreetly look to the left and see an elderly woman speaking with her date, a man fortunately around her age. They seem to be hitting it off.

Sam shakes his head, feigning a disappointed sigh. “I thought we had something.”

“Another older white woman stolen from you, man. You gonna take that?” You tilt your upper body towards the perhaps soon-to-be couple before sipping your ice water.

Sam’s shoulders bounce, chuckling. He turns to them. “Yes, I am.”

You also turn, feeling envious from the sight. You observe the woman’s incredibly pink face and the subtle red on the olive-skinned man’s cheeks. Mutually smitten.

You and Sam face each other in unison, both of your hands below the table as you lean your torsos against the round table. Sam’s hands clasp beneath the surface while yours continue to fiddle with your pen.

Colin hides behind his questionnaire paper below his eyes—espionage still at work—and Isaac ignores his date once again, enthralled by your date as if it were a movie. 

If only there were popcorn, he thinks.

Sam says your name, but you’re stuck in his trance, buzzed and hypnotized. His voice swims around the atmosphere he tends to unintentionally create whenever you speak to him.

Then you remember what occurred a year ago; you remember the reason why you slightly furthered yourself from him in hopes of moving on. Frankly, it didn’t work very well.

Isaac’s brows furrow even deeper than usual, and he looks over at Colin who shrugs at him, sharing the same concern as you back away from Sam. You sober your deluded mind with another drink of water, reminding yourself that Sam is just…Sam. He’s naturally kind, charming, and genuine. He gets along with everyone. You’re not special.

You hold your questionnaire out, smiling tightly. “What am I doing? We’re supposed to be asking each other questions. Uh, okay, let’s see.” You scan your sheet. “What’s your dream career?” You ask hastily. You awkwardly laugh at yourself. “That’s a stupid question.”

Sam repeats your name, but you’re too lost rambling about the stupid questions in your hand.

“Where are you from originally?” You cower behind the paper. “Know that, too. Uhm, okay, let’s see. Oh! Here, if you were an animal, what would you be—”

Sam says your name louder and places his hand on yours, lowering the paper from your face.

“A goldfish. If I were an animal, I’d be a goldfish,” he answers.

You peer down at your hands. “The ten-second memory thing Coach Lasso told you about.”

He slowly pulls his hand off yours, but it sits close by. He nods. “Exactly. There are certain things I want to forget; things I cannot change. But there are things that I can change.”

Things he can change? Where is he going with this?

He continues. “Last year when you asked me—”

Ding, ding, ding, you both hear, jumping at the sound of the call bell. Chairs scrape the red-checkered floor and the sound of shoes patter all around you. Time to go.

“See ya, Sam,” you hurry to your next date who just so happens to be the captain of the Richmond football team. “Isaac, hey.”

He simply shakes his head. 

Four more rounds pass until the host of the speed dating event gives out the last announcement.

“Alright, everyone! Whoever you scored most with is your match. Say ‘hi’ to your potential partner! And give yourselves a round of applause for putting yourself out there tonight!”

Two pairs of hands clap with her, hands belonging to Colin and Isaac. You refrain from rolling your eyes at them when the bartender approaches you.

“What can I get you?”

“Uh, a Jack and Coke please.” You face her before turning around again.

You observe Sam speaking with one of the organizers of the event. The organizer reluctantly hands Sam his score sheet with a confused expression on her face. He nearly catches you staring until you turn back to the counter.

“One Jack and Coke.” The bartender sets down your drink, but not without noticing you eyeing Sam. She smirks, wiping down a glass cup with a cloth that was previously on her shoulder. (Classic bartender move.) “Obisanya your match?”

You study the small sheet in your hand, analyzing the scores and the contact information of someone already on your phone.

“Oi! How the hell did you match with me?” You hear Isaac stomp behind you. 

You smile mischievously, gesturing your head toward him. 

The bartender nods, pouting her lower lip before finding another customer, and you use the counter to spin yourself around to your distressed friend.

“Maybe we’re soulmates,” you suggest facetiously, lifting your drink towards him.

Truth is, you might have taken a peek at his questionnaire sheet when he kept exchanging looks with Colin. His disappointment earlier combined with Colin’s invasive questions about your date with Sam after you got through all your sessions helped piece things together.

Plus, Colin’s insistence that you come to this event in the first place. 

“Get in line.” He stands with his arms crossed next to Issac.

Isaac sits and harshly waves his sheet. “Why copy my sheet when your real match is-”

Colin clears his throat, poking his elbow against Isaac’s arms.

“Somewhere in this room,” Isaac finishes.

The only one in this room who piqued your interest was Sam. Towards the end, there were potential candidates. However, neither was Sam Obisanya.

You scoff, sipping your drink. “Nice save, Lindsey Lohan. I’ve seen Parent Trap enough times to know what’s going on here.”

You wonder why they’d want to pull something like this, especially after you told them that Sam turned you down. Pestering Sam to go on a stupid date with you is not something you would ever do, nor something a normal person should do, period.

God, you hope Sam doesn’t think you did this on purpose.

Isaac continues to eye you disapprovingly before his gazes shifts upwards to a new presence behind you, this presence being none other than Sam leaning his side against the counter. And now you’re sitting between him and the other two sneaky bastards.

“Sam! Who’d you match with?” Colin reaches in front of you and snatches Sam’s score sheet. He frowns. “No one?”

Isaac yanks the sheet from Colin’s hand. “What? How’s that even possible?”

Sam plucks his sheet back from Isaac, stuffing it in his back pocket. “If it’s alright with you two, I’d like to discuss something with them.” He looks down at you. “Alone.”

Your cheeks burn up, easily. Is it the whiskey? Is it Sam? Either way, you’re taking another sip. 

Isaac gets up immediately, rapidly nodding alongside Colin, saying, “Yeah, ‘course, bruv,” before the two footballers leave, whispering to each other. 

You place your drink down and fold your arms on the counter as Sam sits beside you. 

His sweet smile doesn’t cease. “Hi.”

“Hi,” you respond sheepishly. You take a third sip before speaking again. “So no one, huh?”

Sam shakes his head. “Thought I maybe had a chance with her,” he jokes.

You find the elderly lady from earlier matched with the elderly man. He leans on his cane with one hand and his other hand snakes around his date’s arm, hooking it with his. 

Maybe speed dates work after all. 

“Who’d you match with?” He asks curiously. You hand him your sheet. “Isaac? How did that happen? Wasn’t he just glaring at you the whole date?” 

“Pretty much, yeah.” You laugh, placing the paper back on counter.

Wait a second. Sam was watching you?

You try not to look too much into it.

He reaches for his earlobe, lightly tugging at it. “There was something I wanted to tell you before our date ended.”

Oh, god. Is he going to admit how uncomfortable you make him? Is he ending your friendship right now? Yeah, you added some distance between the two of you, but in your defense, you had no intentions of actually ending your relationship.

He speaks a little louder. “Last year, you told me you liked me. Romantically.”

Fuck, you despise the recap.

“And I told you I didn’t feel the same way.”

You clasp your hand around your glass, however Sam stops you, hand on yours.

“Let me finish. Please.”

You dubiously comply, releasing your hand from the cup and nod, letting him continue with whatever gut-wrenching news is going to wreck you for the next few months.

Your head faces his direction, but you stare off at nothing in particular.

He continues. “I was telling the truth when I said I didn’t feel the same way. But as time passed, the more we got to know each other and the more things in my love life started to unravel, I started to fall in love.”

You furrow your brows, meeting your eyes with his. 

“With you,” he adds. “And I understand if you don’t feel the same way anymore. But I just…wanted to tell you how I felt.”

What the hell is happening? This is a prank, right? 

You take a look behind you, wondering if perhaps there was someone beside or behind you who he was confessing his feelings to instead.

Nope, just you. You’re barely tipsy, so there’s no way you’re misunderstanding him. 

You remain quiet, not quite sure what to say. The expression on your face worries him and he calls your name.

You softly shake your head. “I’m sorry, can you repeat that?” 

Now it’s Sam’s turn to internally freak out. He glances at your drink, wondering if he could ask for a gulp.

“Uh…” Sam tugs at his earlobe again and chuckles nervously. “I like you?”

Maybe two sips, he thinks. Three? No, no, that’s irresponsible, he decides.

“Can I have a glass of water please?” He raises his palm at the bartender, politely ordering to fill the silence.

You grab his wrist and lower his hand on the counter, sliding your hand over his, adding, “Make that two,” to his order, because there is absolutely no way you’re getting drunk after what he just told you.

Sam looks away from the bartender and he takes notice of your hands. His ears warm up.

“Definitely wanna be sober for this,” you tell him quietly, and the edges of his lips curve upward. Hesitantly, he entwines his fingers through yours like they belong there.

“Two waters.” The bartender drops off your drinks, glancing at your hands. She raises her brows before leaving you alone.

Sam uncombs his fingers from yours, getting up from his chair. He moves closer to you and spins you by the backrest of your chair, so your body faces him. Then he cups your face. “I don’t know if they allow PDA here, but may I kiss you?”

You gently hold on to his wrists. “They host speed dates every week. I’m sure one kiss is fine.”

He giggles, moving his face closer to yours, murmuring, “One kiss?”

You flicker your gaze between his eyes and mouth. “Or two.” You shrug. “But yes. You may.”

Sam licks his lips before sinking them into yours, and his eyes and yours instinctively shut. You inhale deeply through your nose, breathing in the person you didn’t know would expect to eventually reciprocate your feelings.

His lips are so soft, pillowy against your own. He massages his lips on yours, enveloping himself deeper against you by tilting his head. You feel lightheaded—a delightful combination of his kissing skills and the faded work of the alcohol you ingested earlier. 

Your daydreams do not serve the real thing.

You’re the first to pull away, catching your breath. “Seriously though, how didn’t you match with anybody?”

Sam smiles proudly and pecks your lips. “I asked one of the event-coordinators not to score my sheet. Told her I changed my mind.”

You stand, removing his hands from your face without letting go. “Good.”

From a distance, Colin and Isaac sit at a table, gazing at the other couple like before.

Isaac holds his plastic cup out, smirking. “Too easy, man.”

Colin clinks his cup against Isaac’s. “Too easy.”

[mywritingonlyfans]

Longshot // Alex Turner X Reader!

this fic about: you always have the urge (fate, honestly) to meet Alex from time to time in the midst of moments in your life, but you never stay close to each other for a long time, after all, he is not your boyfriend. There's smut in this one!

words: 4,6K.

 Your head hurt, you knew your face was probably red due to your desire to go home and cry, but yet, you convinced yourself to go out for a drink.

 Somehow, you found yourself happy for doing so.

 You couldn't tell Alex was back in town, you briefly wondered why you didn’t know. He always contacted you when he was near (or at least that was what it seemed to be). Still, you were glad to see him there. He was always able to make things better, even if only for a short period of time; which in your case was a very short one as he wasn’t yours to have.

 Alex waved to your friends, they were all familiar to him. He hugged you, giving a small kiss to your head while sitting next to you. Suddenly, you felt like a stronger drink would do you good.

 It wasn’t hard to tell what was going to happen in the next few hours. After a couple of years going through that, you knew the time you spent together always ran the same streets. You guessed that you were able to put his head in place, just as he did with yours; and that was why he always came back to you. You’d never be able to tell if it was luck or mischance.

 “Was it too hard to find me?” You asked him, frowning in a happy face.

 Around now, your friends had moved to another corner. “I mean, I’m not complaining, I’m glad you did.” You offered him a weak smile. He did the same.

He looked tired, yet deadly cute. He had longer curls and no beard anymore.

 He shuffled his chair closer to yours, letting his leg touch your bare knee. “Not really, Miles said he called you in the mornin’, then told me that you intended to visit ‘ere for the night,” he mumbled, blinking eyes to the bartender that he needed a beer, and so did you.

 “Oh, he’s a gossip,” you wrinkled your nose, causing him to offer you a nasal laugh that you had learned to find lovely over the years. “But what has been happening in your world? You’re good?” You tried to sound casual, but deep down you knew he wasn’t there entirely for you. 

 Something was bothering him, he was looking for someone to rely on.

 “Pretty much the same,” he sighed heavily, sitting better on the chair while rolling the t-shirt cuffs to his elbows.

 In the face of this, your throat dried up in anticipation.

 He wasn’t just physically tired. “We finished the last album, I feel exhausted.”

 He looked at you like a lost puppy, watching your face, taking in if you were in the mood to listen to him and even if you were fine with having him around. After all, he came to you out of nowhere.

 He’d never make you uncomfortable, maybe he couldn't tell that yet. “C’mon, let it all out. I haven’t seen you in such a while for you to deprive me of the details.”

 “If I tell you,” he pondered, “ you’ll tell me why you have that runny nose that matches your watery eyes?” He poked your cheek, dragging his fingers so he could put some strands of hair back in place. 

 You cuddled up in his palm, like it was their right place.

 His chair was so close to you that you’d be able to rest your head on his shoulder if you wanted to (without creating any bodily discomfort, not that you were capable of that).

 “I guess life just hasn’t been all that gentle with me lately,” you giggled. “I lost my job last week, the same life shit’s going on as usual, and when I finally manage to move to a decent place, I’ll now be actually going back to sharing an apartment with strangers, because, huh, y’know, I can’t afford being in there anymore.” Your breathing has sped up and you have indeed had to hold some tears to the vague memory.

 Alex was quiet for a while, you needed him more than he needed you, it wasn’t hard for him to tell that. Listening to you made him realize how his worries were nothing at all, not in a mean way, but made him wonder why he wasn’t always around for you when he felt like could/should. He knew that you didn’t mind sharing an apartment with someone, but the loss of perspective was always tough.

 Without further thinking, he pulled you to himself, so subtle yet so significant, fluffing your hair and holding you tight in his grip. You let yourself get involved in his essence, wrapping yourself in his t-shirt. You didn’t cry, but you knew it was possible to read your emotions – at least for him to do so. It could be little, but Alex knew you.

 You took your head off his chest while he still had his arm around your waist. Taking a deep breath, you stared at your laced fingers. You couldn't properly look at him. “I guess it’s all happening at the same time, I’m just not sure how to handle it at the moment.” He held your face in his hand, his mouth close to yours as he ran his thumb over your chin and as soon as your breath met, you felt his lips on yours.

 He was soft and wet, he had the same taste you still had etched in your mind, at that moment it seemed to be all you needed. 

 When he walked away, he was left a few pecks in the corner of his mouth as his forehead rested upon his, making you sigh to feel his hair on your face.

 You two stayed like that for a few minutes and you could bet that anyone who passed by could see how much of a fool you were for him. You tried not to think about it too much, it was better to have little of him than nothing at all. “Al?”

 “Huh?” He murmured with his eyes closed, giving your lips a tickling sensation.

 “Kiss me more,” and then he did. 

 Alex was holding you in place while your hands intertwined around his neck. You played with the chain around it, savoring the touch of his tongue on yours, focusing only on him while pulling at his hair to hear his soft moans.

 It didn’t take long for the bartender to come and get your attention. You laughed nervously at him, you were embarrassed because you didn’t even remember where you were, still Alex seemed untouchable about it, even though he was dead red on the cheeks. He wasn’t one to be embarrassed over small things like that, at least not around you. The bartender was quite irritated with you and just now you noticed that your drinks had arrived and hadn’t even been touched; the guy was rightly pissed.

 Alex stood up, lifting you up with him. You looked in your pockets for your money, but then Al got you. You’d argue, but you thought better and any money left over would be useful. You held both beers in hands as he paid, thanking the old lady for the service, still feeling your skin burning due pure embarrassment, and then headed outside to wait for him.

 “Are you drivin’?” He asked, laughing at your state of awkwardness.

 You bumped into his shoulder slightly, laughing along with him. “I am not, I’m living nearby,” you whispered as he put his hand inside your skirt pocket, bringing you to his side for a walk. “In the apartment that soon won’t be mine, but, huh, how ‘bout you?”

 “Not driving’, I thought ‘bout staying somewhere for the night.”

 He was close to home, but not that close, it’d take about 3 hours to get to where he lives; it seemed plausible that he wanted to stay. “Are you only here because of me?” You risked asking.

 “Yeah,” he took his hand out of your pocket and ran it through his hair, face properly red. “I didn’t think it’d be a bad idea, I think.”

 There was silence, but it was so far from being uncomfortable. “You know you can stay with me.”

***

 Considering that you were in the process of moving to another place, your house was a bit of a mess. Alex wouldn’t be bothered by that, somehow your instinct of needing things always in place - aka Monica from Friends - made you wander around the space in an attempt to make Al at home.

 “What ‘bout the new album?” You asked, dragging one of the boxes away from him.

 It wouldn’t even bother anyone, but the thought that it’d be in the middle of the room while someone was at your house bothered you.

 “I don’t really know, I feel anxious about releasing it. It’s not that I don’t want to release it or am afraid of doing so, far from that, it’s just, I don’t know…” His voice fell silent, lost in his own thoughts. So typical and amiable of Alex.

 You turned to him, wanting to ask him what he had said, after all, that didn’t sound like him, to be insecure. You felt as his hands touched your hips, pulling you on his lap. “Y'know, I don’t care about your mess at all, right? Just, please, stop walkin’ ‘round the house dragging your stuffs, darlin’.” He said with his face close to your neck, hugging you from behind. His warm breath was in contact with your soft skin, providing heat to your body. 

 And well, there was a minimal percentage chance that you were trying to make the place look good for him but just because he made you a little nervous.

 “Okay, fine. I’m fine,” you exhaled, turning to face him. He was smiling with his eyes almost closed; he still looked tired, but at least you were improving his mood. “You know you’re good at what you do, Al. You shouldn’t worry 'bout those things.” You held on to his shoulders, breaking something that could turn out to be a pitiful silence.

 He squeezed your thigh at the same time as he laughed humorlessly at your words. “I know that. I guess that this is the short time they gave us to finish the album – it was drivin’ me crazy. The album isn’t bad, not at all, it’s honestly very good. We did an incredible job, still if it weren’t for the time, oh babe, it could have been even better. That’s crazy how I’m still letting myself get stressed over this, don’t you think?” He vented, moving his hands up your skirt.

 “I know it’ll be good, I can’t think of anything you did that ended up bad, love!” You ran your fingers over his covered shoulders, down to his chest, going to the first open button of his silk shirt. “But if it’s just stress, well, I can help ya.”

 He lubed his lips, nodding assiduously, putting you properly on top of him. That way, you were stuck to his body, feeling the roughness of his flare jeans along with the zipper against you. You gulped as he held your face, sealing your lips with his. You were relieved he always guided you through that. The leading up part was way better when it came from him, not least because he was pretty much able to leave you without the senses with so little. 

 You unbuttoned the rest of his shirt in the middle of sloppy kisses and grips. Then, you ran your hand over his belly, tracing your fingers to the back of his neck while moving your hips lightly. You lugged on his hair, pulling him away a bit to catch your breath. You opened your eyes to find Al with deep pink lips and brown eyes more intense than normal, at that moment you could have sworn that he was the most beautiful thing you had ever laid eyes on. You spread his shirt to the sides, sensing your body getting hotter, when he smirked at your rush, managing to hold both of your hands behind you, forcing you in place.

 “No need to rush, we have plenty of time, lil’ one,” he clenched you in his hands. You arched your back, breathing heavily at each pressure of his fingers on your wrists.

 He ran his nose over your neck, placing kisses and bites on the way to your collarbone, leaving wet tracks that would later turn into dark marks.

 Your legs ached from that position, the couch wasn’t the best, but feeling Alex getting hard under you as you writhed yourself against him, made you want to stay there for as long as he wanted you to. It was crazy to think that at the beginning of the day you were sure that the rest of it would be a pure disaster, and now being spoiled by his lips your worries were gone.

Temporary as that would be, you were determined to give him your all, making his and yours next hours one of the best escapes from both of you. 

 Unnecessary to say that you were lost in your own mind, craving for having his soft curls in-between your fingers, wanting him tugged into you furiously, causing you to ache. 

 Your mouth was ajar, your vision was just white dots as he played with your sensitive skin, driving you insane. And then, Alex paralyzed when his grip became too strong around your fists and you got louder than usual.

 “D’you like that, huh?” He did it again, but this time pushing your body backward, giving him a better look of your state. He kept his devilish grin on his face, watching you from top to bottom. You bit your lips, containing your noises to yourself, you were such an angel in his eyes. “Up, babe. I need to see something.” He didn’t let you answer, not as if he needed to. You stood up in front of him, legs shaking with your head definitely not in the right place. “Undress, please.” He rested his elbows on his knees, like you were his little show.

 He had an immovable jaw in a serious face, and just like that, you didn’t see any problem in obeying his voice, but perhaps, due to the lack of his body being glued to yours, you couldn’t help but let out a laugh.

 “Don’t act like you don’t like it when I tell you what to do,” he caught you by the hem of your underwear, helping to take it off while you got rid of your blouse. “Especially, when I just got you off my lap, almost unconscious 'cause of some kisses on the neck, pet.” He added, drawing circles on the inside of your thigh, smoothly going up to your center.

 You felt your breath come to a halt. “You’re just too bossy.” You teased, confirming that your breathing was faulty.

 He patted his nose over the damp stain of the fabric, placing a wet kiss there. “And you love it.” He pecked you a few more, teasing you by running his fingers on the edges as putting the cloth to the side; never touching you where you needed him.

 Taking a deep breath, you've had to hold back a groan; letting the urge to have his tongue and the tip of the nose rubbing you stick to your mind only.

  Involuntarily you took hold of his hair, bringing him closer to you. And then, you understood his previous question, it wasn’t just about not being able to touch him, but also about the power he was having (always had) over you.

 He cut his actions short and got up, hovering over you. “Is that ‘kay, darlin’?” You agreed, mouth dried up, without even being able to words. “So no touching me then, huh?” He whispered, tossing your hair behind your ear, aware of the challenge he was casting upon you.

 That’d be comical in any other situation, but with his body and eyes fixed on your frame you felt in his pure domain.

 You nodded, diving into the way he pulled at the hair on the nape of your neck firmly so that you were looking at him. “Go on, babe,” He insisted on having the words he wanted.

 “Yep, fine, Al,” it was far from fine, you couldn’t do that. 

 How could you go without touching, making a mess of his hair or marking your nails on his back?

 “That’s my girl,” he praised you in between sighs.

 He was excited while your face was overflowing with nervousness; not out of fear, but out of curiosity. He finished taking off his shirt and indicated with his fingers for you to lie down on the couch.

 You shut your eyes tight, with his voice echoing 'my girl’ inside your head. Alex was lugging your wrists above your head as you did what he told you to do. He tied them with his shirt. “Is this hurtin’ you? Feelin’ comfortable?” He tightened it in a knot.

 Your head and elbows were on the arm of the couch, only your hands were unsupported. Although you weren’t uncomfortable, it was to be expected that pain would appear the next day; yet it’d be worth it. “No, it’s fine. I’m good.” You assured him as he knelt beside the couch, running his hands down your torso, making you squirm.

 He went down to the hem of your underwear, taking it off with the help of your legs kicking the lace away. “Good then,” he warbled, pattering lines on your under belly. “Needy and in your proper place.”

 “Bastard,” you swore through clenched teeth.

 He grinned, admiring how your breast rose and fell in a quick but punctual rhythm as your hips fidgeted at his touch. You looked like a piece of art he had just created, swollen lips, filled in lovely marks on the collarbone. He found himself in need to concentrate on his breathing while watching you, to control his pulse as he reached between your legs for further care.

“Al,” you breathed out, forcing your fists in vain. “Go on, please,”

 With that, he held your hands, forcing them down and slid a finger inside you. Your lips opened in a sigh and he took the opportunity to kiss you, running his tongue over your bottom lip and nipping it to his mouth, keeping things on a slow pace.

You wanted to hold his hand, make him go faster or be able to pull the locks of his hair until he understood how much you wanted him, but you had no way of doing that, and you knew he was doing that to provoke you.

 His lips traveled over your neck again, this time giving light kisses, blowing air on the soft fresh he had left in there.

 “You’re so gorgeous,” he said without even opening his eyes, delighting in your skin as he sped up, rubbing his thumb gently over you.

 You whispered something almost inaudible that he recognized as his name. He raised his head, coming face to face with you. “Right there, huh?” He asked, focusing on the spot that was blurring your vision, without speeding up, just kissing you more.

You moaned with the satisfying running fast through your veins, making you go numb in the knees. You closed your legs, wishing you could hold on to his body, but all he did was laugh, shoving his fingers even leisurely into you.

 “No, no, Alex,” you looked at him properly, thinking that if you hadn’t been with your wrists tied you’d have slapped his chest hard.

 He wiped his hand on your thigh, and stood up slipping his jeans down his legs along with his underwear. You sighed at him, stretching your arms, staring at the ceiling to disguise yourself. Not that it was necessary, but Alex was already too much of a show-off when it came to you for your liking.

 “You good? How’s your arms?” He asked with his attentive eyes over your face, Soon, he was on top of your weak body.

 His hair was damp, falling over his forehead. Sweat was glued to his chest and his silver necklace dangled in front of your eyes. For a split second, you thought about saying that you missed him, but you were wise enough to know better than this.

 “If I say that I’m not good. Are you going to untie me?”

 He pressed his chest to yours, your body sticking to his due to the sweat.

“There's not even a single chance,” He stroked your neck with his thumb, up and down, with a silly look on his face.

 You grunted as soon as you felt him against your thigh, he placed himself in-between your knees, holding on to your shoulders, and without hesitation, he filled you up. Your body tingled and your voice failed, causing a silent moan to slip from your lips. His head fell over the crook of your neck and you could feel how dysrhythmic his breathing was. His warm body along with his breath hitting on your neck added a pleasant feeling in your stomach, leaving you dizzy under him.

 “Move Al,” you tried to sound understandable, embracing his waist with your legs.

 He thrusted deeply into you, leaving a groaning sigh of relief in your ears. You stretched out your arms, tightening your thighs around him. He held the shirt in your hands, preventing it from coming loose.

 “No, I wanna touch you,” you whined.

 “You will, just be patient, babe,” he squeezed your wrists in his hand.

 Closing your eyes, you enjoyed the way his body was over yours, every movement and delicate touch.

 He went slowly at first, making sure you were taking all of him, every inch, before going faster. Once he felt your walls clenching around him, he murmured a breathless 'fuck’, letting go of your hands so that you could finally feel him. You dug your nails into his back, kneading your body against his at the same time as he hugged you.

 As you opened your eyes, he was already looking at you, with an intense gaze, building you up so you were feeling nothing but sexy and wanted.

 Both of you were a mess; sweaty and sticky. You felt a tingling ecstasy take all over your body, your toes twitching as you emptied yourself into him. He kept working on you until his body collapsed into yours, filling you up to perfection.

 The last thing you remembered was having your fingers entwined in his hair, patting at it slightly as he whispered sweet nothing against your skin; just like a lullaby.

———–——-

 You woke up to the television, trying to adjust your vision to the brightness of the daylight.

 Failing to stretch, you felt how sore your body was.

 Your eyes searched for Alex, finding him sitting opposite to you with a lazy grin and a cup of tea in hands, his attention was all on you. 

 Friends was playing on the television, but you doubted he was watching it.

 “Good mornin’, babe,'' his husky voice echoed through the room. It was the best thing to hear in the morning, honestly. “How’s it? Hurtin’?” He asked when you started examining your marked wrists.

 He was fully dressed and although you weren’t, he had managed to get a sheet to cover you.

 “Good mornin’. It’s fine, well, huh, it doesn’t hurt,” you mumbled, scratching your eyes, curling up on the sheet. And as much as you wish it could last more, you asked. “How long will you be stayin’ in town?”

 “Not long,” he paused thoughtfully. You already expected that he wouldn’t be with you for longer, still sometimes you liked to think that it’d last longer than just a few nights before he disappeared to another continent. “I need to go home in a few minutes, I’m going to take a flight at night to adjust the final details of the album in LA.”

 “Sounds nice,” you wanted to have the courage to tell him how he made things in your life look just right, as if he were some kind of missing piece from your damage puzzle. “I can’t wait to hear it, hear what your great fingers and mind are capable of.” You ignored your thoughts. He laughed.

 However, you truly believed that not saying anything was a wise move.

 He lifted a cup from one of the boxes next to him, holding it out to you. “I made one for you too, I 'ope you don’t mind.”

 You didn’t mind it, in fact, you loved the way he made himself at home so quickly. The home that soon wouldn’t be yours anymore. You wished Al could remedy your worries for more than just one night.

 “Thank you,” you took the still warm drink in your hands, looking at him as if he were part of your decor. “You can smoke in here, I don’t mind that either,” you spoke up. You couldn’t even imagine that he’d have gone without lighting a cigarette all morning.

“The place is all clean, and smells nice. I bet you never lit one yourself, I wouldn’t do that.” He was right.

“Well, y'know, I don’t care about the smell, I just don’t see the need to leave the house impregnated with it.” You explained, remembering that his place was a perfect description of that smell, yet you loved his warm flat.

 “I know this's going to sound stupid,” he started. “But if you can’t find a place in time to live in, y'know, you can stay at mine. Well, I mean, you know I am never home much and as I’ll be travelin’ you could make yourself at home.”

 He said it casually, and you knew he wasn’t lying. If you wanted to, he wouldn’t even think twice about letting you stay at his.

 “No need, I’ll be fine. I do appreciate it though.” you took a sip of your now cold drink.

 He bobbed, checking what you thought could be the time on his phone.

 “You have to go, I'm afraid?” You asked, your soft voice revealing you didn’t want that.

 “I need to,” he gave you a small smile, getting up. “It’s gettin’ a bit late for me.”

 “I see,” you went to him, adjusting the sheet on your body, feeling ridiculous for still being undressed. “I guess I’ll see you, right?” You added it while he picked up his stuff on the couch; keys, wallet and the pack of cigarettes. There was no answer for your question.

 “Yeah,” he breathed out, heading to the door. “You could come and visit, spend a few days with us. It’d be nice.”

 “To LA? For the album thing? Like I'm one of your groupies?” You wrinkled your nose, jokingly. His arms wrapping around you. You’d miss it.

 He squeezed you into his chest, his growing beard tickling your cheek. “You know you are much more than just a mere groupie for me, babe.”

You didn’t answer that. He pulled away and for a second you thought he was going to kiss you, but he didn’t.

 “See ya, darlin',” instead, he kissed the top of your head. “Think 'bout it, both about comin’ to visit, but also, 'bout needing a place to stay for a while.”

 “I for sure will, thank you, Al,” you watched him, from his rumpled shirt to the red and cute circles under his eyes. He’d always have a special space in your heart. “Well, I think I’ll see ya then.” 

[bi-bard]

Gracie Abrams Songs That Would Describe a Relationship with Nick Burkhardt - Nick Burkhardt Imagine [Grimm]

Title: Gracie Abrams Songs That Would Describe a Relationship with Nick Burkhardt

Pairing: Nick Burkhardt X Reader

Word Count: 2,197 words

Warning(s): brief mention of past trauma (non-specific), fear of commitment, fear of death/injury, Wesen racism

Summary: Three songs by Gracie Abrams that would describe a relationship with Nick Burkhardt.

Author's Note: I hope this will somewhat make up for the fact that I haven't been able to do a writing challenge for Gracie's newest album.

I could've put Tough Love in here to talk about (Y/n) and Monroe, but I only do three at a time, y'know?

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

Let It Happen

No, I know I'm a walking contradiction and it shows Got a history of being in control I'm aware that I could end up here alone

-- third person p.o.v --

Usually when Nick found himself sitting in Monroe's house, it was to find out the truth about some kind of Wesen that was attacking people.

This conversation was something different entirely. Somehow less serious but more tense. A feeling that Nick would be happy to never experience again.

Monroe called him over, saying that they needed to talk about something important. There wasn't much more said on the phone except for the preface that the talk was going to be focused on (Y/n), which was enough to get Nick to go over as fast as possible.

Monroe and Nick sat at Monroe's table for what felt like hours. A strange silence settled over them. For Nick, it was tense. He was worried that (Y/n) had gotten hurt or that he had done something to upset them. For Monroe, it was awkward. He wasn't sure that this conversation was his to have but felt like he should. He saw (Y/n) as a sibling and siblings were supposed to protect each other.

Monroe nervously cleared his throat before finally speaking up, "I... I have a question to ask."

"Okay," Nick replied, feeling his leg shaking as he tried to stop overthinking how this conversation was going to go.

"And it might be a weird question," Monroe added. "I don't even know if it's my business and you don't need to tell me anything. I would like if you did because the rest of the conversation kinda relies on that-"

"Monroe," Nick cut him off. "What is it?"

"Do you... have feelings for (Y/n)?"

There was a brief moment where it felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. So much for thinking he had been subtle. "Uh, yeah. Lucky guess."

"Well... it was Rosalee's guess more than mine," Monroe admitted.

"Great, so everyone just knows?"

"I didn't say that. The two of us had been talking about it and I got worried."

"Worried?" Nick could've scoffed. "You don't think that I'd do something-"

"No, no, of course not." Monroe shook his head. "It's just that I've (Y/n) for a while now. They've been through... a lot."

"Okay." Nick nodded slowly.

"They don't trust a lot of people. I mean, even getting them to trust me was a long process. I mean, seriously, years. But... that's not important right now. What is important is that I care about them. I've seen them get through a lot of crap and I want to see them happy. They deserve it.

"And I can see it when you two talk sometimes. They want... something. Maybe it's just to open up. Maybe it's something more. I'm not sure, but I can see it. I just..."

"What," Nick asked.

"I don't want you to get (Y/n) to trust you just for something to happen that'll screw that up."

"Monroe," Nick leaned forward on the table. "I care about (Y/n) a lot. I know that you do too. I don't know what I'm gonna do. I don't know how they feel yet or if it would be safe. But I promise, if something happens, I'll do everything in my power to make sure that I never let them down."

"Thank you."

"There's nothing to thank me for-"

Monroe held his hand up. "You gave me a little peace of mind... that's enough."

There was a pause between them before Nick spoke up again, "So, when do I get threatened that you'll kill me if I hurt them?"

"Was that not implied," Monroe asked. He woged quickly.

"Message received."

The Blue

You came out of the blue like that I never could've seen you coming I think you're everything I've wanted

Rosalee's shop was a place of comfort. Maybe it was because it was more often filled with the few people that I considered to be my friends. Or maybe it was simply because it catered mostly to Wesen.

No matter what the reason. It felt natural to find my way there after I had almost been killed.

"How are you feeling," Rosalee asked as she handed me a mug of tea.

"Fine," I muttered. "I... I don't know if it's really hit me yet."

"That's understandable," she replied. "You're welcome to stay here as long as you need. Let me know if you need me, okay? I'll just be out front."

"Thank you," I said. "For all of this."

"You're welcome." she grinned.

As she turned around to walk to the front, I heard the bell above the door ringing. A few seconds later, Nick was rushing into the room.

"Are you okay," he asked. "I told you to get checked by the paramedics."

"I'm fine," I insisted. "It was just a little shock. Those assholes didn't get a chance to hurt me. How did you even find out I was here?"

"It doesn't matter-"

"Did Rosalee call you?"

"(Y/n), it doesn't matter," he said. "You were almost killed."

"They wish that they could get that close."

He ran his hands over his face.

"Nick, look at me." I stood up, walking over to him. "I'm fine. Might have a bruise or two but other than that, I'm perfectly fine. I'm healthy and safe."

I watched his eyes scan over me.

"You've been in much worse shape than I am right now." I shrugged.

I tensed when he stepped forward and hugged me. My face felt warm. My thoughts were going at a hundred miles an hour. I had spent a long time avoiding my feelings and a major part of that was avoiding any physical touch when I could. I awkwardly hugged him back.

"I'm happy that you're okay," he mumbled. I closed my eyes for a moment.

"Thanks," I replied before abruptly stepping back.

I felt like I could've been knocked over by how he was looking at me. There was just so much worry and care. I hadn't seen that look in a very long time. Even then, it wasn't nearly as intense as this.

I don't know what came over me. I don't think that I even thought about my actions before I had committed to them. All I knew was that one moment I was looking at Nick and the next moment I was leaning forward and kissing him.

I was going to pull away a second after I had done it. But I couldn't before Nick had the chance to pull me closer to him.

I had never experienced a time where something felt so tense yet so correct. Like this was going to happen no matter what. A question of when instead of if. It was all depending on how long it took me to do something about it.

Nick pulled back a few moments later, slowly grinning at me.

It felt like it took ages for my mind to catch up to what had happened.

"Sorry," I mumbled, not fully convinced that I had caught my breath. "I... I don't know what came over me-"

"Don't apologize," he cut me off. "I'm glad that you did."

"Oh," I replied, slowly nodding. "I... I really like you, Nick."

"I'd be a bit confused if you didn't."

I felt my face warm up again as I looked away from him. "I'm telling you how I feel about you and you're being a smartass."

He chuckled. "I'm sorry. Let me make it up to you."

"How do you plan to do that?"

"Over dinner. If you'd like."

I grinned. "That sounds nice."

He leaned forward and kissed me again. Suddenly, I felt like I was completely certain of a choice that I had made.

The Bottom

You could do better You should walk out It's now or never I took the most that you could offer I'm gonna drag you right down to the bottom

I let out a huff as I tossed the unopened envelope on the counter.

All it took was the lack of information on the outside for me to know what it was. I was simply too tired to deal with it today.

"That sigh rattled the house."

I jumped when I heard Nick's voice. "Holy shit!"

He held his hands up. "Sorry, sorry! Didn't mean to spook you."

"Why aren't you at work? It's 2 in the afternoon."

"Case got solved this morning, took the rest of the day off," he said simply. "What was that sigh about?"

"Nothing important," I replied.

"It's not that unmarked envelope?"

I raised an eyebrow at him.

"What? I'm a detective, I see things." he shrugged. "Let me see it."

"Nick-"

He reached over and grabbed it before I had a chance to stop him. If I didn't trust him so much, I would have been a little bit quicker.

I watched his face change from when he opened the letter to when he finished reading it. It wasn't a long note. None of them had been. They were only ever a few lines about the purity of Wesen and how sorry I would be if I didn't listen to them. At first, they churned my stomach, but after a while, they just became a nuisance. Whoever was giving them to me was a coward anyway; they never fulfilled their threats.

"Is this the first note that you've gotten like this," Nick asked after a moment.

"No," I admitted. "I've gotten a few of them. I just throw them out."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Why worry you with them? Whoever sent them hasn't actually done anything besides send the notes. Not much we could do about it."

"I could have," he argued. "I'm a cop. I could've... I could've tried to do something."

There was a long pause. I watched Nick's eyes scan over the note over and over again. As if he was looking for the identity of the writer to just pop out at him. I sighed, snatching it from his hands. I did what I had done with the rest of those notes: threw it in the trash to never be looked at again.

"Maybe you should go," Nick muttered.

"What?"

"I think that you should go," he repeated.

"Go where?"

"I think it would be for the best if we separated," he explained.

I scoffed. "Bullshit!"

"(Y/n)..."

"Nick, I'm not going to leave because of a few vague threats-"

"And what happens when I get you killed?" he cut me off. I furrowed my eyebrows. "We've... We've seen what's happening with Rosalee and Monroe. Rosalee had a brick thrown through the shop window! And that's just because they're two different kinds of Wesen! Imagine what they would do to someone who's with a Grimm!"

I ran my hands over my face. I understood that he was scared but this all seemed crazy.

"I... I won't be the reason that you get hurt. I'm already putting you in enough danger because of the keys and the royals and all of the other crap that comes with this life. And maybe it's too late to protect you from that. Maybe they know too much about you already and that's my fault. But this... I could protect you fully from this if I let you go."

"Nick..." I stepped forward. "If... If you want me to go, then I will. But only if you want me to. I'm not going to leave you just because some idiots think that I should be with 'my own kind'. I... I love you, Nick. I'm not going to let someone chase me away from that."

He didn't respond for a moment. He just stared at me. As if he was testing me. Testing how long I would stand there without him saying whether or not he wanted me there.

"Tell me what you want-"

My words were cut short by him pulling me forward and kissing me. I froze for a moment before touching the sides of his face. He pulled back a few seconds later, not moving very far away from me. My arms moved around his neck.

"I don't want you to leave," he muttered to me.

"Good," I replied. "I didn't want to leave. Plus, I'm pretty sure that I'd be safer with you than on my own."

He leaned his forehead against mine, closing his eyes.

"We'll be okay," I almost whispered. "No matter what."

He grinned at me as his eyes opened again.

"I don't care what danger I'm in when I'm with you," I promised. "I just care that I'm with you."

"I'm sorry. God, I'm an idiot."

"Sometimes." I nodded. I kissed his cheek. "But that's okay."

"Thanks," he mumbled sarcastically before pulling into a hug.

I closed my eyes, hiding my face in his shoulder.

"I love you too," he muttered. As if he was keeping it a secret from someone even though we were the only people in the house. "Didn't say it earlier."

I smiled to myself. I had never doubted that for a second.

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