#i was sat there watching it thinking 'i know that noise... i know that progression... i Know That Music Bit From Somewhere'

[adlamu]

me realising (nearly two and a half hours later) that there was a bit in the latest who episode's beginning music that sounds almost identical to the [spooky synth noises] riff from more than a party and that my two things accidentally collided for not even 10 seconds:

[libraryofgage]

I realized Steve is absolutely that kid whose parents put him through piano lessons solely so they could have another way to show off at parties and shit. And then that thought morphed into a little Steddie plot bunny and here we are lol:

Steve doesn't know it's the last time he'll sit at the grand piano, the last time he'll press down its keys and let music fill the empty room before bleeding out into the empty house.

He doesn't know that when his parents next come home, his mother will notice how horribly out of tune the instrument is. He doesn't know that it will be sent off somewhere for repair (his parents won't tell him where, no matter how he asks, and he'll never quite understand why) and lost to him. He doesn't know his parents won't bother buying another one; it was only ever there to impress party guests when Steve sat down and played some Bach. Without those parties, company or otherwise, there's no point in getting another one: both the piano and Steve will have outlived their usefulness.

He doesn't know that he'll be storing away his sheet music, carefully placed into folders and in a waterproof box for safekeeping. He doesn't know that he'll soon become too consumed by high school and dating and monsters to idly write down notes on a staff. He doesn't know that when he's swinging a nail-ridden bat in the future (to destroy monsters, sure, but destruction is destruction, right?) he'll ache with the pain of missing the act of creation as a means of stress relief.

He doesn't know any of that, so Steve sits down at the grand piano with a soft smile, gently trailing his fingers over the keys before lining them up in the Middle C-position. He runs through a few warm-ups, letting muscle memory take him away, so he doesn't have to think. Without another thought, he seamlessly transitions into idly playing, bits and pieces of everything he remembers and songs he's heard blending together.

Mozart's Air morphs into Beethoven's Fur Elise into Queen's Bohemian Rhapsody. It doesn't all sound good together, but that's not the point when Steve plays by himself. All that matters is letting his brain shut off for a bit, letting the notes and echoes mingle together to create something new and joyful.

After two hours on the piano, his wrists are aching; he always forgets to hold them in the proper position when he plays alone. But it's a good ache, one that reminds him of the music still dancing around in his brain.

Steve takes a deep breath and slowly releases it, feeling the last of his tension dissipate. He lets his hands linger on the piano for a little longer before standing and leaving the room, tragically unaware of his imminent and unavoidable loss.

--------

Steve is sprawled across an old couch in Gareth's garage, reading Eddie's well-loved copy of Lord of the Rings. He'd promised to at least give it a go, and he had to admit he was looking forward to finally understanding some of the references Hellfire Club and the kids make. His progress is slow, but he's almost halfway through after two weeks of work. Reading while Corroded Coffin practices helps; the background noise of their music is perfect, letting him ignore all other sounds and focus.

Of course, that's provided they actually play continuously instead of starting the same song over and over only for Eddie to stop them halfway through. When it happens for the sixth time, Eddie growls in frustration, tugging harshly at a lock of hair. "It still sounds wrong!" he cries, dropping into a crouch while cradling his guitar close.

"Stopping us halfway through isn't helping," Gareth points out, idly twirling a drumstick as he watches Eddie's lament.

"Do you know what's wrong yet?" Asher asks.

Steve can longer focus on Lord of the Rings. Instead, he places the book on his chest and looks at the band to watch how this plays out. Eddie scowls and looks up at Asher. "Unfortunately, Ashy Baby, no."

Jeff, meanwhile, has locked eyes with Steve. And because Jeff knows the perfect way to get Eddie off their asses is to get him on Steve's instead, he says, "Why don't you ask Harrington what he thinks?"

Eddie whips around to look at Steve, eyes wide and hopeful. He doesn't even bother standing from his crouch, instead waddling his way over to Steve and testing his ability to hold back laughter at the sheer ridiculousness of the sight. "Stevie, baby, sweetheart, lover boy, please tell me that wonderful brain of yours has an idea so your favorite boyfriend can finish this rocking song."

"You're my only boyfriend."

"Which automatically makes me your favorite," Eddie points out, grinning as he leans closer. With Steve still laying down, Eddie's the perfect height in his crouch to kiss him. He lingers for a few seconds before pulling away, and Steve knows his own smile matches the dopiness of Eddie's.

"Have you considered adding a piano?" Steve asks.

"None of us know how to play," Asher says, and Steve would look at him if Eddie's face and hair and shoulders and everything weren't filling his entire line of sight.

Without thinking, Steve hums and says, "I do."

"Do what?" Eddie asks.

"Know how to play piano."

There's a silence that follows his sentence, one that makes Steve's stomach lurch as he wonders if he's maybe fucked up the shaky peace and friendship he's finally managed to build with the other members of Corroded Coffin. He doesn't know how his words might have done it, but he's scrambling to somehow take them back when Eddie slaps a hand over his mouth, the bands of his rings pressing against Steve's lips.

"Gareth, you still got that keyboard?" he asks, keeping his eyes locked on Steve. There's a light dancing in them like he's just discovered magic is real, like Steve has amazed him beyond imagination.

With a grunt, Gareth gets up from his drums and steps into his house. The rest of them stay in silence while waiting, Eddie refusing to remove his hand no matter how much Steve licks his palm. When he finally gives up and just glares at Eddie, his boyfriend grins brightly back.

"It's a little dusty, but it'll work fine," Gareth says when he comes back, and Eddie finally moves his hand and body, allowing Steve to see Gareth setting up a keyboard a few feet away from his drums.

"Okay, sweetheart," Eddie says, taking the book from Steve and carefully setting it aside before pulling him off the couch, "you've heard the song enough. Play what's missing."

Steve hesitates before walking over to the keyboard. Eddie sticks to him like a shadow, sliding his arms around Steve from behind once he's standing in front of the white and black keys. An odd nervousness churns in Steve, tugging at his spine and making his palms clammy, but he knows it would be much worse without Eddie there. If he had to play in front of the band without feeling like anyone was on his side, he'd probably just throw up instead.

"It, uh, it's been a while," he says quietly, easily falling into the muscle memory of tracing the keys and finding Middle C and dancing his fingers through warm-ups despite his words.

Eddie squeezes him tighter as Jeff asks, "Since you've played? Why?"

Memories of his grand piano rise in Steve unbidden, overwhelming him in a rush of longing for the instrument itself and the relaxation of playing. "My parents paid for lessons and had me play at company parties. They, uh, sent it off to be tuned, but it got damaged, and they didn't get another one."

"That sucks, Stevie," Eddie murmurs, soft and reassuring and Steve suddenly feels far more confident.

He looks up at Jeff. "Can you start playing again?" he asks, flashing a grateful smile when Jeff nods and starts strumming the song's opening notes.

Steve listens closely, breathing in the tune he's heard so many times and letting it take hold. He doesn't allow himself to actually think, letting Jeff's guitar and Eddie's arms and hair and scent drown out everything else. Before he knows it, he's playing a hesitant tune that grows with confidence as he follows the song laid out before him. He's always a measure behind, chasing the guitar's echoing notes as they fade.

He and Jeff make it through the whole song without Eddie telling them to stop. When the final notes of guitar and piano echo together, the latter still chasing the former even at the end, Steve is shaking with excitement and anxiety and grief and joy.

He lets out a slow breath, feeling tension he didn't even realize had lingered for so long finally draining from his shoulders and dissipating. Steve can also feel Eddie's face pressed against his neck, a smile searing into his skin as Eddie squeezes him even tighter.

"I love you so fucking much, Stevie, that's exactly what was missing," Eddie says, his words the only warning he gives before pulling Steve away from the keyboard and off his feet and spinning him around. His surprised yelp quickly morphs into laughter that still lingers even after Eddie has set him down again.

Gareth and Jeff and Asher have already started discussing how the other parts of the song might change with the addition of a keyboard, but Steve is too busy turning in Eddie's arms and kissing his smile away to pay them any mind. He can worry about inevitably being roped into the band's practices later, after he and Eddie are breathless and flushed and smiling bright.

[samkerrworshipper]

I have an idea for a smut fic for alexia if you are interested. Reader and alexia are having movie night with other teammates but alexia is feeling extra horny that night and keeps teasing reader. During the movie reader is fed up so she fingers alexia from behind without the others knowing

Movie Night

Alexis Putellas x Reader

smutttt minors dni 18+

Alexia was pushing it. It was team movie night for the Barca squad, a fortnightly affair that had us all piling into Ale and I’s house and couch to watch whatever movie the girls could agree on, whcih was a suprisingly grueling process with the group that we had. Ale and I always sat back and watched, as Keira, Lucy, Mapi, Aitana, Patri, Claudia, Ona and occasionally Ingrid fought fairly endlessly until me or Irene stepped in and told them to just make the decision. Ale just sat back and laughed, they were all like her children and you could tell that she got a massive kick out of watching the younglings of the group quarrelling like five year olds over something as stupid as a movie. We normally settled on some kind of family friendly classic or a super hero movie, marvel specifically because the English girls claimed that DC was just knock off Marvel. I couldn’t tell the difference but I could tell Lucy was extremely passionate about it so I let it go. Sometimes we would watching something scarier or a more serious movie but that was mostly when some of the younger players had something going on. Tonight was no different, the group settling on Up. Me and Irene made our bets on who would cry first, I said Ona because she was a sucker for a sad movie, Irene bet on Ingrid, who was also a fairly safe bet.

Once we’d wrangled the children and gotten them all seated somewhere on the couch I made my way back over to Alexia, she stood up when I got close enough, letting me slide down onto the couch so she could lie on top of me. Once she did, someone flicked the movie on and we all began to watch, snacks being passed around as the movie progressed on. It was about twenty minutes in when Alexia started to tease, I think she thought she was being discreet, or she was trying to be discreet, but I noticed. Noticed the way she was sliding, rubbing herself up against my thigh, how her hands were very clearly rubbing against her nipples under the blanket that was draped over us. My horny little girl. I let her get herself riled up for a little while, looking out of the corner of my eye as she continued to tease herself, I towed the line though when she started teasing me.

First it was just a hand on the inside of my thigh, it was a little bit abnormal but Alexia was a very touchy person so I let it go. Then her hand was creeping, until it was cupping my pussy and her hand had slid up to my tit, groping it with her hands. As quickly as I could whilst still being discreet I grabbed her hands firmly with my own and pushed her head back so she was leaning against my chest and I could whisper in her ear.

“Is my girl feeling needy?”

It was lucky that the room was so dark, dark enough that I could hardly make out who was sitting on the other side of the couch, dark enough that I knew Alexia’s actions were only visible to me.

She shamelessly nodded into my chest, her head tilted back with that signature smirk on her face, quite similar to the Cheshire cat.

“Please mommy.”

I smirked back at Alexia, it never ceased to amaze me how fucking brave she was, we were surrounded by teammates, who could at any minute turn around and ask what was happening.

“Are you going to be good for me? Not make any noises?”

Alexia nodded quickly, her obvious need to be touched eliminating any common sense that she normally possessed, it was so fucking slutty.

“Eyes on the screen babygirl.”

Alexia nodded at me, sitting herself back up against my chest, so her ear was pressed directly on my mouth and her back was laying against my chest.

I licked a small stripe up the side of her ear, smirking a little bit to myself when she shivered as soon as I did it, so sensitive, so fucking perfect.

“I’m going to touch you, you make a noise, move without permission or cum without permission you won’t be cumming for a month, am I understood?”

I was whispering it directly into her ear, my breath hot on her earlobe and I watched her shake slightly in reaction. My voice was barely audible, I didn’t want to bring any attention to us, we were lucky that most of the girls were enraptured by the movie, and the ones that weren’t were busying themselves with their phones.

I moved my hand between Alexia and I’s bodies, moving it down over the small of her back and then slipping it under the pyjama pants she was wearing, very quickly coming to realise she was wearing nothing else below them. It was fairly normal for her to sleep naked, but at team movie night, really?

“No panties?”

Alexia smirked back into me, her hips arching slightly as my hand made its way over the curve of her ass and down to the spot between her thighs. There was already a considerable puddle pooling between her legs, it was somewhat surprising but also not, Alexia could get turned on by about anything, it was sort of freakish. Her sex drive was insane, completely astounding and it wasn’t all that surprising to me that she was now choosing to get herself worked up on team movie night.

Alexia’s teeth were biting down hard on her lip, if you were an outsider it could appear that she was focusing really indepthly on the movie, the two of us being the only ones aware of what was happening under the blanket covering us.

As soon as my hand dipped between Alexia’s folds I felt her inhale deeply, this was a test of her self control, something she assured me she had acquired over the years. Anytime the conversation of semi-public sex had occurred from us she’d assured me that she could keep her cool, I suppose this was the real test.

I didn’t bother with teasing her, keeping my movements as limited as possible. She was drenched to the core and one swipe across her folds and hole was enough to tell me that I was going to have absolutely no troubles having to get her worked up. I pushed two fingers into her with ease, noticing how she jolted slightly at the sudden intrusion. She did well to hide her surprise, disguising it with a very quiet couch that no one turned a head to. I started very slowly, hardly moving my fingers and refusing to curl them against the spot that I knew she wanted them most. If she wanted to get off in public then she was going to be patient.

Her patience didn’t last long, I was setting her up to fail to be fair but I had expected her to last longer than a few minutes. Obviously sick of the very little movement I was giving her she decided to take matters into her own hands and fasten the pace by moving her hips an action that I very quickly put a stop to with a few words whispered in her ear,

“Move again and I won’t be touching you again, understood?”

Alexia nodded quickly, her teeth still clenching down on her teeth, hard enough that I was concerned she was going to draw blood.

I stilled my movements for several seconds before continuing my pace, fastening it just enough to give her a little more. I teased her like that for a few minutes, focusing on the movie as my hand sloppily made its way in and out of my girlfriend. The pace was torturous for her, who was obviously seeking out some kind of release.

When I had her physically sweating, her back arching off against my chest I finally started to curl my fingers, very quickly locating that spot that I knew had her clenching down on my fingers in a matter of seconds. She was a shaking mess within a few seconds, unsurprising to me, I knew exactly what buttons to push when it came to Alexia, a complete open book for me.

I fastened my pace slightly, but focused on the motion of curling my fingers, observing out of the corner of my eye how her face reacted to my movements, her eyes rolling into the back of her head and her thighs starting to shake violently.

“Please let me cum.”

I shook my head immediately.

“Sluts who ask to be fucked in public don’t get to cum without permission.”

The realisation of complete horror appeared on Alexia’s face and in that moment she’d realised she’d fucked up, that she wasn’t winning this battle.

“P-Please, can’t hold on much longer.”

I knew her statement was true, her thighs and pussy clenching down hard on my fingers, hard enough that I knew there was a chance I’d struggle to remove them.

I kept my eyes focused solely on the tv, doing my best to make it look like there was nothing out of the ordinary occurring between Alexia and I. We got enough shit about our relationship, without the squad knowing about our sex life. If they got wind of anything to do with this I knew we’d never hear the end of it, Alexia in particular, their captain, their La Reina. Who put on the brave face every single motherfucking day to face it all for her team, people forgot who she really was sometimes, that she could be soft and innocent and just a human sometimes. That’s why we’d worked so perfectly for each other, she knew that she could be whoever she needed to be in front of me and I’d never judge her for it, that was what unconditional love looked like for us.

“Hold it Alexia, be a good girl for me.”

I watched as she almost let a moan go at my praise, she was such a fucking sucker for praise and I used it to my advantage whenever I could, she was such a people pleaser.

I continued my ministrations, at the same pace, watching as Alexia struggled to refrain from putting herself over the edge, she was trying her very hardest but I knew eventually it was all going to crash down, she could only push it away for so long. I was waiting for her to fail, it was mean but a part of me felt like she needed it, that she wouldn’t ask this kind of attention from me if she didn’t want something like this, something that would push her. We would talk about it later, I decided, when the team had left and we were tangled up in our blankets, we would talk about it, talk about more appropriate ways she could ask for my attention than shielding it with sex, like she’d taught herself to do. Now wasn’t the time though, I was pushing her and she was so close to breaking, so close to breaking all of her self-control.

I could see the tears cascading down her face as she kept her jaw locked, her eyes clenched tight shut as she tried to keep herself together. It was kind of cute, cute how she was trying her very hardest to please me, to the point where she’d put herself in tears. It was then that I’d decided I was done pushing her, she’d proven me wrong and I was glad to admit it.

“Cum baby.”

My voice was so low, so very quiet that I was scared she might not hear it, but the feeling of her clenching down fully on my fingers and her juices coating them sublimely was enough of an indication, if her face wasn’t. Her eyes fully rolling into the back of her head and her jaw finally relaxing as she let it all go. Once she’d stopped shaking and she’d come down from her high I very gently removed my fingers from her hole, relishing the ‘pop’ sound that came when my fingers fully made their way out. Alexia smiled at me dopily, her face still fresh with tears that were a mixture of frustration and orgasmic bliss.

She relaxed into my arms, pulling one of my arms over her waist so she could wrap herself in me, the both of us settling in to watch the rest of the movie.

“Ale’s crying!”

The voice came from a very excited Lucy Bronze, who was sitting on a bean bag a few feet away from us. Her words had the whole team turning around to look at us and I couldn’t help but snort as Alexia buried her head in the shoulder of my hoodie, clearly not bewildered about the idea of her teammates seeing her cry.

“What can I say, Ale’s a sucker for sad movies I guess.”

The group on the floor all started giggling, never having seen their team captain crying on a team movie night. I looked over towards Irene, who was looking at me with a glint of something else in her eye, like she knew we’d been up to something but she couldn’t pin down exactly what it was. I sent her a smirk, which was enough to confirm her suspicion but also give her absolutely zero assistance in trying to figure out what it was.

As the group turned back to watch the end of the movie I looked down at Ale, smiling at the pout that had found its way to her face.

“A sucker for sad movies, really?”

I snickered at her as quietly as I could, she was so vulnerable in the moment, so innocent.

“Did you want me to tell them that I’d just fucked you?”

My voice was quiet enough that I knew no one had heard but Ale seemed a little bit worried, shushing me and pushing a lone finger up to my mouth, silencing me quickly.

“Quiet, movies to focus on.”

Rolled my eyes at Ale’s antics but nodded along with her, turning my head back to the screen, letting Alexia relax properly into my body before I let myself focus properly on the movie.

[pinkhelados]

Always You - Miguel O’Hara x Reader (Part one)

summary: You and Miguel have been friends since high school and throughout all of that, he’s loved you. Getting around to asking you out however? No.

contains: mutual pining, friends to lovers, mentions of insecurity on miguel’s part. NOT PROOFREADING

part one | part two

You and Miguel went to high school together, graduated together, roomed together during university, and throughout all of that, Miguel had loved you, his best friend. He remembered when you walked into his chemistry class Junior year of high school… Through his thick-rimmed glasses, he admired the sway of your hair and the light glinting of the black plastic headband on top of your head. His body tensed when you sat next to him, offering a charming smile that would have him whipped his for the rest of his life.

The teacher’s voice faded into meaningless noise in the background and he found himself only focusing on you you. Brown eyes watched as you silently took down notes, sketching doodles on the edges of your notebook whenever you’d get bored, nose scrunching slightly whenever you made a mistake. He knew better then to stare but you were just so magnetic. You turned to look at him. Crap

Miguel darted his eyes to look at his paper only to find his page void of any writing.

He’d been so enraptured by you that he forgot to copy down notes.

Flustered, his eyebrows furrowed but quickly shot up when he felt a tap on his shoulder. He glanced up at you expecting you to tear into him for his ogling but then he noticed you had slid your notebook next to his. He blinked but picked up his pencil and begin to copy down what was on your paper. “Thanks…” He mumbled, turning away to conceal the red on his tanned complexion.

Ever since that day, you were talking to him and he was delighted to listen. It started with you teasing him for ‘spacing off’ during class and then turned to conversations about music shared interests. The semester progressed he begun to hang out with you after school, silly conversations turning deep and personal. For the first time he felt like head a real friend, not just some random he talked to during robotics season. Thick and thin, you were there for him and when it was his turn to comfort you, he did in a heartbeat.

Senior year prom night, that stupid guy you’d been seeing ditched you last minute. You were sat on the edge of his bed sniffling into his shoulder. “Hey it’s okay, you’ll be fine,” He cooed into your ear, rubbing your back soothingly. If he weren’t so mousy, he would’ve kicked his ass. “God what was I thinking?! You told me he was a douche- Xina told me he was a douche- whyd I even go through with it?” You sobbed into his shoulder. Miguel already hated the guy for snatching you up and him breaking your heart like this only served to enrage him further. “I don’t know- you’ve always been kind of stubborn.” He joked. You wiped your eyes and smiled weakly, playfully hitting his shoulder. “Shut up, I know.”

Miguel laughed and silently held you up against him, careful to not extend any boundaries. “I don’t even have a date anymore and I already got the dress…” You said with sad eyes. An idea popped into your head. “Mig-”

“No.”

“Why not! I know you hate parties but it’s senior prom-”

“You know I don’t do well in social settings, (Y/N)”

“It’d make me feel better..”

That was all it took for his resolve to diminish. Miguel grunted but secretly, his heart was soaring. “Fine. Let me find a dress-shirt or something.”

He kept the picture in his wallet. Miguel would look at it whenever he needed a break from college work, you holding a peace sign over his head, blue lights making your dress glow and he just stood awkwardly doing his best to smile. As he walked to the campus library, he took out his wallet and just stared at the small Polaroid picture with a soft smile on his face. You’d changed and so had he.

Miguel opened the library door, sifting through the crowd of studying college students. A hand went up and discretely waved back and forth and Miguel walked towards it. “Hey,” you smiled. Miguel smiled back and set his bag down. “Hi.”

Miguel had grown taller since high-school- like- suspiciously tall. He went from being the small, nerdy guy to this 6’9 tank of a man in the span of three years. Freshman year of college, he didn’t look like this. Though- you liked it. Really liked it.

His arms were big- the crewneck just barely concealing the muscle of his arms and the broadness of his back. You’d been crushing on him since second year of college. It was odd- how quickly your view of him changed and this change brought on guilt. He was your best friend! You couldn’t feel that way about him though he certainly didn’t help. Friends would point out how nice to you he was, how easily he’d fold and howd he’d drop anything just to help you. All of that made your heart beat and yetYou never thought anything of it. You’d do the same. It was just something between friends, no? Miguel’s brown locks slicked back and his glasses sat on the tip of his hooked nose as he stared at you with those soft eyes of his. “Ready?”

Your cheeks flared when he reached over to touch your shoulder. “Yeah- yeah,” you nodded.

The sky faded into darkness when you finished studying with Miguel, it was chilly too as you walked through campus over to the dorm you shared. “Damn- it’s freezing,” you rubbed your hands together, breaths coming out in white clouds. Miguel laughed, casually taking your hands in his larger ones. His palms were like heaters- unusually warm. He leaned closer to you, the redness of his cheeks not going unnoticed. “Better?”

A blush came upon you face and you leaned on his shoulder. “Mhm, aren’t you cold?” Miguel just wore a sweater with a plaid scarf wrapped around his neck and a pair of gloves, gloves he always wore ever since last summer. He shook his head. “It doesn’t bother, we’re close to home either way so it’s not like we’ll be out for too long.” You nodded, mumbling a soft ‘true’ and kept walking with his masssive hands around yours.

Arriving home, you plopped onto the couch and leaned your head back. “I’m beat,” you mumbled, looking over at your best friend who was taking off his scarf.

God his back looked good from that angle- his waist too…

“Yeah- I’m gonna go to bed, actually,” Miguel yawned. You tilted your head. “Already? It’s only nine?” You said as he walked over to his room. “Gotta get my beauty sleep- I’m a busy guy,” he said sarcastically though there was some truth to his words. Miguel was a genetics genius so his classes were difficult, not to mention all the internships he had at various scientific facilities. “I think you’re plenty beautiful, tiger,” you snickered, he laughed too. “Gracias, mami.”

You turned back to the tv when you heard the soft click of his lock. Bored, you switched on the tv. It was all news about this masked vigilante- Spider-Man they called him. You’d been hearing about him a lot recently for the past four weeks. “Huh,” you said, and continued watching.

-

Miguel had changed into his suit soon after he left you to his own devices. The night hadn’t been too eventful, he prevented a couple robberies which he’d tracked with the help of Lyla- his AI.

“So-“ A yellow light emerged from Miguel’s wrist, illuminating his masked face. “You ever gonna tell your girlfriend about…” She waved her arms around. “This?” Miguel scoffed and looked away, thankful for the mask hiding his cheeks. “No- and she’s not my girlfriend.” Lyla laughed, her avatar flickering to her now lying on her stomach with her palms resting on her cheeks. “You can’t hide this from me, big guy. I monitor your heart rate and it always spikes up whenever you’re around her. Coincidence? I think the shock not!”

Miguel swatted the hologram which only flickered in response. The AI hummed in amusement, swinging her leg in deep thought. Miguel’s fangs barred underneath his mask but sheathed soon after. “That doesn’t mean anything,” He mumbled. Lyla rolled her eyes. “Well according to my tracking software- I’ve also picked up rises in temperature, clammy hands-!”

“Okay!” Miguel grunted. “Shock- I get it.” Lyla smiled triumphantly, flickering over to the top of his head where he gave it a little pat. “Lucky you, I have several algorithms that should be foolproof in asking her out!” That made Miguel laugh. His ai didn’t comprehend his deep insecurity and for some odd reason that was a little heartwarming to him. “Don’t overestimate me, Lyla. (Y/N), she’s- she’s way out of my league. I don’t wanna risk years of friendship because I can’t control my own feelings.” He sighed.

The hologram frowned. “Hey don’t say that,” Lyla hugged his head but all Miguel felt was the warm heat from the light and the pain in his chest. He took out his wallet and gazed into the senior prom night picture. “Shock, I looked like such a dork,” He laughed. You were still so beautiful, hell- you were even more beautiful now. Miguel swallowed, hope blooming in his chest. “What’re those foolproof plans of yours anyways?”

Lyla’s eyes lit up and she scoured her files. “Oh I am so glad you asked.”

[vivwritescrappythings]

Twenty-Five

eddie munson x gn!reader

A self indulgent fic for my birthday today. I always cry on my birthday, no matter what, and this was inspired by my own boyfriend who is so lovely and sweet and Eddie reminds me of him all the time. But, nevertheless, treated this one like a diary entry more than a fic.

or

You always cry on your birthday, and this is the year Eddie finds out.

tw: crying, talks about death, panic attacks, angst, hurt/comfort, gender neutral reader but also heavily girl coded bc this is a self indulgent fic about my own life and I identify as a girl, not proofread

Word count: 2.8k

-

There’s something horrible about the way that time just keeps going no matter what. No stops, no returns. There’s no warning that something just happened for the last time, no flashing signs that say: Stop! You’ll never get to experience this again so savor it!

Everything just moves on and moves on and moves on.

Your thoughts are cyclical in nature, it takes you give or take 365 days to get to the same spot: crumpled somewhere private, crying. When you were young it used to be your parents’ walk-in closet, you would curl where your mother’s skirts met your father’s jeans and sob until you could hardly breathe. In your teen years the big meltdown would take place in your car, the beat up SUV felt like your own box of privacy to cry into the palms of your hands after school. You had to hide under the cover of your comforter in your dorm room, praying you were silent enough that your roommate didn’t notice.

This year is the same as any other, you feel like an anvil has been placed on your chest the second you open your eyes. Sunlight diffuses through the sheer lilac curtains over your bedroom window, tinging the morning with an eerie, dreamlike quality. Normally you find the color to be pleasant, mystical rather than gloomy.

Eddie is still asleep next to you, your gaze pulled to the gentle peace that has settled on his face. He’s never still and calm like this, you like to take your opportunities to absorb him in this state when possible. You resist the urge to press a kiss to his pink lips, deciding to let him catch these last few hours of sleep that you yourself have been deprived of.

He’s always been better at sleeping than you, the beginning few hours of most mornings spent on your own reading or watching some show in the other room. It doesn’t matter if you’re at his trailer or your apartment, you always wake up when the first dregs of sunlight hit your eyelids.

You pull yourself from bed with a soft groan, stretching and blinking in an attempt to ground yourself. Of course, it isn’t sufficient, the dizzy feeling of dread curling around your shoulders like a blanket as you emerge from your room into the modest kitchen of your single-room apartment. The bedroom door closes with a soft click behind you, just enough to shield Eddie and let him rest.

There are still a million tasks that you need to accomplish today. You’d made progress yesterday evening, dusting and scrubbing and rearranging every corner of your apartment in an attempt to make it look like no one had ever lived there. It was mostly accomplished, dishes still in the sink and pillows on the couch rumpled where you had been watching television.

While the coffee brews you set on your first task of the day, pulling the mixer out of a cupboard along with a large bowl you’d gotten from the thrift store. Baking while Eddie is asleep will be easier, his fingers no longer poking into the bowl for a taste or his puppy-dog eyes set on you like a weapon in an attempt to convince you to let him lick the spoon. The bowl you used to mix the cake batter yesterday sat in the sink, licked so clean that if you didn’t know any better you would have put it away.

It’s a miracle he didn’t make himself sick.

You put a record on to fill the emptiness, trying to keep your mind busy with tasks and noise so you don’t have a moment to sit down and think too much. By the time you flip to the B side, the red velvet cake you made was decorated in a thick layer of cream cheese frosting. You haphazardly press sprinkles onto its surface as decoration, not trusting your ability to pipe lettering on it.

It’s decent enough, you remind yourself to set your perfectionism aside as you return it to the cake stand in the corner of the kitchen and set about fussing with the rest of your apartment.

It’s easy enough to distract yourself while you have things to do. You don’t rest, jumping from one thing to the next in a journey that leads you from washing the dishes in the sink to straightening up the couch cushions to folding every blanket strewn across your living room.

But you can only keep going so long.

Eventually you run out of tasks, or out of steam. You’re not sure which hit first as you allowed yourself to fall onto the couch with a huff. The dread comes rushing back all at once, nearly paralyzing you as you gather up one of the meticulously folded blankets and cover yourself with it.

No matter what, no matter how many birthdays come and go, you always feel the same devastation of the years going by. With a start you realize that this is your first birthday that you no longer consider your parent’s house your home. It startles you, making you think back in an attempt to identify when the last time you referred to it as your home was.

What are they doing now? Surely they are awake by now, but they haven’t called. Probably giving you privacy, not wanting to wake you up in case you had a wild night to kick off your birthday weekend. It was rare, but it could have happened.

You should call them, but the thought of even talking to your mom right now is making your throat close. It’s all too much, everything is going too fast. You still remember your fourth birthday party, the one with the fairies and the cheap wings made of coathangers and your mother’s old stockings that all the little kids decorated. It gets you thinking about how you used to make crowns with her out of construction paper, emblazoned with crayon butterflies.

A sob wrenches from you before you even realize you are crying, it’s a horrible strangled sound that you hardly recognize as your own. Tears blur your vision as you check the bedroom door, praying that Eddie hadn’t heard.

After a few moments without movement, you let the tears fall and the misery engulf you.

It’s confusingly irrational and rational at the same time, the contradiction eating you up inside as you consider having an annual crisis over the inevitable death of your parents while still actively having the crisis. Your hysterics feel ridiculous, you’re twenty-five now, your frontal cortex is fully developed and you should be able to move on with the idea that someday they will be gone.

Gone.

Jesus. You wonder if every child feels this way or if you are the only one. The soft cushions of the couch welcome you as you slouch onto them, shoulders shaking as your face wedges into the corner of the sofa. Once the floodgates are open you can’t stop them, thinking about how there will eventually be a day that it's the last time you speak with them and you’ll never know it until it already happens.

You helplessly remind yourself that you always tell them you love them before you hang up phone calls, before you leave their home after weekend get-togethers and holidays and family dinners. But will you regret not spending more time with them? Will you look back someday and wish that you had spent more of your fleeting moments with people that were all too temporary despite the fact that they meant everything to you?

Do people with siblings feel like this? The solitude that comes with the idea of the death of a parent? You don’t know, doomed to be an only child and always carrying the burden of it on your shoulders and your shoulders alone.

You don’t know how long this meltdown lasts, crying and crying and crying about grief that is yet to happen, regrets you don’t even know you will have. No matter how hard you try to be rational and firmly rooted in the present, you find yourself mourning people who are still alive every year on the day that should be a celebration.

A gentle hand on your spine startles you from the spiral of your thoughts, shame and grief and guilt fraying your nerves as you choke on a sob. You stiffen like you are electrocuted, your shoulders curling in as you compress closer to the back of the couch.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” Eddie’s voice is still groggy from sleep, raspy and soft in all your favorite ways.

You can only imagine his confusion, he probably woke up expecting you to be reading a book or finishing up your birthday cake instead of burrowing into your couch in a fit of tears.

Eddie has never been around for the quiet parts of your birthday, the moments where you hide yourself away and wallow. You’ve been friends for ten years now, dating for two of them, but you’ve still managed to keep this secret in the hollow of your heart and bear your misery alone.

“It’s okay,” you exhale, the simple words a staccato as you try to catch your breath. Your face is soaked with tears, you keep it mashed against the couch as you try to stuff everything you’re feeling back into the neat little box it sprung from.

He lets out a soft breath, his fingertips start to move up and down from the base of your skull to where your ratty and holey pajama bottoms hug your hips. “If it’s okay then what are you doing out here crying?”

You know the second you face him the temporary dam you have managed to build will come crashing loose. Eddie nevertheless manages to squeeze his long fingers into the space between your shoulder and the fabric of the couch, slowly turning you on your back to face him.

He looks so sweet, his hair gathered in a loose bun at the nape of his neck and his brown eyes round with concern as he looks down at you. Instead of sitting on the couch he’s kneeling next to it, his face closer to yours than you anticipated. You’re sure you look like a disaster, skin red and splotchy and eyes bloodshot. No matter how many times you rub the back of your hand across it you can’t stop your nose from running like a faucet and your lips are so swollen.

Eddie cups your cheek with a calloused hand, rubbing your tears away with his thumb as his brows furrow. “C’mon, baby, talk to me.”

The plea is so genuine that you immediately whine despite your attempts to steel yourself against your emotions. You burst into an additional round of tears, crying so hard that you are nearly choking. Despite your attempt to explain, your words are unintelligible, distorted by your sobs.

Eddie’s arms curl around you, warm even through the thin fabric of your sleep shirt. With no help on your part, he manages to pry you off the couch and into his lap, cradling you against the seat of the couch. As always, he just knows what to do.

He coaxes your head to find the curve of his neck, his fingers caressing the back of your skull as he remains silent. Rather than try to understand what’s going on right now, he just lets you cry it out.

Your tears soak into the back fabric of his cut off Metallica shirt, your arms winding around his torso as you cling to him. Eddie is so solid, he always has been when it comes to you. After knowing one another for a decade, he knows how to handle your storms, how to bring them down to a manageable size and get the gray clouds to go away.

Eventually the sobs slow, you take greedy pulls of air as your fingers twist in the fraying bottom edge of the shirt Eddie is wearing. He claimed there was something he found overstimulating about where the hem originally landed on his lanky frame, cutting it so slivers of his pale stomach were visible any time he moved. Your fingers pressed along the line of skin just above where the elastic of his boxers hung low.

“Do you, uh, just ever think about how everyone is gonna die?” In retrospect, you’re not sure if that’s how you’d phrase the question. It comes out mumbled and wet-sounding against his shoulder, your eyes squeezed shut as you attempt to explain.

He hums his acknowledgment, leaving you empty space to fill. It’s the telltale way he pulls things from you, knowing that if he doesn’t say anything you will babble to fill that silence.

“It’s stupid.” You squish yourself closer, briefly wishing that you could just sit inside his skin. “I just, uh, always think about how, like, when I get older on my birthday that everyone else gets older too?” The way you say it makes it sound like a question rather than a statement.

Again, just a sound of acknowledgement.

“It just is so shitty that everything goes so fast and my parents are getting older and someday I won’t have them and even though I’m older now I don’t even know anything and I have no idea how to do anything without them,” you babble, your gasping breaths interrupting the stream of consciousness spilling from you.

Now that you’ve started you can’t stop. “It’s like my birthday is a marker for how much time is changing and it feels so fast and I’m not ready to be by myself and get even older.” A few tears squeeze out of your eyes, your fingertips pressing into his torso.

“Why am I like this?” you whisper, the question defeated and soft.

“Because you are the most caring person I know, baby,” he murmurs in response, his arms winding around you completely as his hands rub up and down your arms. His cheek squishes into the crown of your head, his warm breath against your scalp. “But nothing is happening yet, and I know the way your brain works makes it feel so real to you even though it’s not real. It will be someday, but you can’t think about it like this right now.”

You nod slowly, trying to take deep breaths. The years of anxiety and guilt and paralyzing fear seem to melt away under his reassurance. “Never talked about this with anyone before,” you mumble into him, feeling deflated.

“You don’t have to do everything by yourself, baby,” Eddie says, pressing a quick kiss to the crown of your head. The two of you are in a tangle of limbs on the floor of your living room, holding each other close.

You nod against him, the simmering pot of emotions finally slowing down. “I love you,” you say, your words sounding thick and wet and so small.

“I love you too.” The way Eddie says it, you can hear his smile.

You don’t know why you keep this all to yourself, why you let everything bottle up and the emotions consume you. But you’re so thankful that it’s Eddie you have to talk to.

You finally lift your head, lip wobbling as you look up at him with wet eyes. His pink mouth is twisted into a smile, a kiss stamped against your forehead. “There you are,” he murmurs, a tinge of excitement in his tone like he just won a game of hide and seek. A hand comes up to wipe away the tears slicked across your cheeks, his calloused fingertips rough against your skin.

“Happy birthday, baby,” Eddie says, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. The cliff you were teetering on feels so far away now, your ribs no longer cracking apart under the weight of your guilt.

“Thank you,” you whisper, a sheepish smile settling on your face as you tilt your head up toward his. Eddie presses his lips to yours without hesitation, a hand caressing your jaw as he kisses you with such a fervor that you don’t think you can ever deny the fact that this boy loves you.

His brown eyes are soft as you pull apart, flicking over your face before settling on your gaze. “Now, how about we get dressed and go get some birthday waffles from the diner,” Eddie suggests, nudging your cheek with his nose. “Your mom told me she always makes you waffles for your birthday, but with my luck I’d probably burn your kitchen down.”

You laugh, Eddie’s expression coloring with pride as the sound rattles from you. “Yeah, okay, let’s go,” you murmur, nodding as you start to stand.

Eddie joins you, looping an arm around your shoulders and tugging you to the bedroom of your apartment. He keeps pressing kisses to your forehead, whispering little quips to you that keep earning peals of laughter.

He’d bend over backwards or lasso the sun just to make you smile, and you realize that Eddie is your favorite present this year.

[dr4k3n0]

Long Days

A/n: This is another old one-

Synopsis: After being in the car all day, Vash needed some cuddle time.

Tw: None

Word Count: 1.1k

Soft snores sounded through the small car. Your head lay gently pressing into the blonde's crimson coat, as you slept.  The others in the car were all fast asleep in their uncomfortable positions of where they sat in the car. All of you had been driving the whole day and yet not a single town was seen. So that left you all to resort to the car for the night. Although, it was much better than being outside and trying to sleep. 

There wasn't much going on around the small car. There were small noises the bugs were making, and a few occasional animal sounds, but never anything else. The cool breeze welcomed itself into the car letting the air fluctuate and be more breathable. Your eyes began to open slowly, as the cool wind passes you, and you shiver. 

Looking around the car, you see everything as it was before. You yawned and pressed your head into the blonde's sleeve once more, as you took hold of his fleshy hand. You squeezed it gently before you snuggled into his side for warmth. Letting a content sigh leave your lips, you feel a gentle squeeze from the warm hand in yours. 

You looked up at the blonde as he looked at you with half-lidded eyes and a small smile on his face. Letting out a small laugh, you hugged his side happily as he adjusted his arm around you. Grinning at you tiredly, he kisses the top of your head gently before beginning to doze off again. Soon you, yourself were beginning to doze off as the night progressed. 

The night felt long but it was eventually time for the sun to rise, waking you up in the process. The light gleamed through the car windows and you slowly blinked your eyes open. Yawning a stretching, you turned to the sleeping blonde beside you and gently pecked his hand as a small smile appeared on his face. You looked out the bright window happily before quietly punching it open making sure not to wake the others. 

Letting out a small sneeze after being exposed to the light, you let out a soft huff when you popped your back. Looking back into the car, you watched as the others stirred but soon went back to sleep. A sigh of relief left your lips as you began to walk around to stretch your legs. 

Eventually, the others began to wake up and soon joined you outside with Vash being the first one up. When you began to sit down basking in the rising heat, you were startled by the car door opening and Vash stepping out with a yawn. He popped his back before turning in each direction to find you. Seeing you, he smiled before taking a seat next to you with a huff. 

"Morning," He said in a raspy voice as he wrapped an arm around your small figure. 

Leaning into him, you soon replied. "Good morning," you looked up at him smiling at his presence. 

He grinned down at you before gently kissing the top of your head and leaning his head on top of yours. 

"Where do you think we'll go today?" You said breaking the comfortable silence. 

He thought for a moment making a small hum noise. "I don't really know." He said leaning into you more. 

You nodded at his words before you both were startled by Wolfwood opening the door to the car next. He took one look at you both before rolling his eyes and cupping his hands around his lighter and cigarette and lighting it. He took a long drag before exhaling with a content sigh. 

"You guys are disgusting," Wolfwood said as he side-eyed you both. 

Chuckling, you both ignored him leaving an annoyed Wolfwood that his words weren't able to get under your skin. Eventually, Meryl and Roberto woke up and were ready to get back on the road so you all piled back into the small car to drive to god knows where. It was rather quiet besides the radio playing in the background and occasional chitter chatter between Roberto and Meryl.

"This is going to be another long day," you thought. 

You propped your arm up on the small armrest and rest your head on top of your hand. Letting out a bored sigh, you feel Vash's warm hand take hold of yours. You smile before turning to him to see him flashing his signature smile at you. 

Rolling your eyes playfully, then squeezed his hand gently before continuing to look out the window. You feel him rest his head on your shoulder watching the scenery go by out your window as well. Smiling at his actions, you both watch the desert zip by, as you drove. After being in the car for 2 to 3 hours, you all finally come across a town. Heading to the closest inn, you both got rooms for yourselves before each retreating to them. 

As soon as you opened the door to your room, you were excited that there was some sort of bed there. Your back ached from not sleeping properly the past few nights and this would hopefully help. Flopping onto the bed, you stayed there comfortably while letting out a small content sigh. Vash let out a small huff before setting down his stuff and taking off his jacket and holster. You soon found him laying beside you, looking up at the ceiling. He soon turns to you and smiles. 

Grinning back at him, he eventually gets on top of you before pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. He lingers at your lips savoring the warmth, and love before kissing you again. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you run your hands through his soft blonde strands of hair smiling into the kiss. You both remain there for a while longer before he pulls away looking at you with half-lidded eyes. 

"I've been waiting so long to kiss you again.." He said in a small voice. 

You chuckled at his words. "It's only been like 2 days Blondie, you've lasted longer without kisses." You reply. 

He pouted at your words "Yea but you were around to where I could kiss you, those other times are when your not with me, and it's already torturous then." He whines. 

"Alright, you big baby," You huff, as he lays on top of you. 

"Vash, you're going to squash me," you pout at him. 

"I'm staying here, I need cuddle time." He said as he held you tighter. 

Smiling, you give into him and hold him tightly. 

I've missed this.. 

[thehelluvabossandhazbinhotelblog]

ᴠɪꜱɪᴛ ᴀᴛ ʜᴀᴢʙɪɴ ʜᴏᴛᴇʟ ɢᴏɴᴇ ᴡʀᴏɴɢ.

[ʟᴜᴄɪꜰᴇʀ ᴀɴɢꜱᴛ, ʜɪɴᴛꜱ ᴏꜰ ʀᴀᴅɪᴏᴀᴘᴘʟᴇ ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱQᴜɪɴᴛ.]

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 867

ᴛɪᴍᴇꜱ ʀᴇᴀᴅ: 2

40 ʟɪᴋᴇꜱ = ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛᴡᴏ

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Lucifer had noticed Charlie was having a rough day, he had decided to visit the hotel that morning but had been welcomed by Charlie and Vaggie trudging in with their shoulders hunched in dismay and after some light prodding Charlie had miserably explained to him that some sinners had chucked tomatoes and fuck knows what else and rude insults at them for trying to advertise the hotel.

Lucifer of course was infuriated, grasp tightening around his staff but it only seemed to have irritated Charlie more so he hurriedly calmed down and turned to Charlie. "Maybe you should have a shower and some rest, Apple pie." He suggested softly to his daughter.

Husk, Angeldust, Nifty, Sir Pentious and Alastor were all watching. None of them, however, stepped into the conversation as they idly stood by the bar discreetly glancing over.

"Dad! Stop! I don't need to. I'm not five! Okay?" Charlie had suddenly snapped, whipping around to face him. Vaggie settled her hand on hers in an attempt to calm her. Though Charlie hadn't pulled her hand away her, temper only heightened.

Lucifer looked at her, expressing twisting into a concerned frown. It was unusual to see Charlie snap so suddenly. "Apple pie, you clearly aren't...I know when you're not okay."

Horns began to grow from the tops of Charlie's head, Lucifer faltered slightly but refused to back down. "Char-" Lucifer started but Charlie cut him off harshly. "Know?! Tell me, Dad. What exactly do you know about me after not being present in my life for decades?"

A stunned silence enveloped the room but Charlie continued just as Vaggie opened her mouth to try and settle her girlfriend's boiling, fiery rage.

"I wish it was YOU who disappeared and not Mom! Atleast she would have stayed and supported me from the start! Not when I finally make some actual progress!!"

Lucifer couldn't describe the pain in his chest or the piercing he felt in his heart. Like someone had plunged a huge spear into his heart over and over, to put it bluntly.

The room had lapsed into a stunned silence, the only noise was Charlie's harsh infuriated huffs. Alastors expression never faltered, still the same irritating grin as usual.

Lucifer kept his posture straightened and his chin held high though his hand began to tremble. "You should clean up and get some rest.. I'm sure Alastor can sort those demons out. If you'll excuse me, I am quite tired." He gritted out, his tone was flat, quiet. He was worried if he spoke any louder he would shatter into a million pieces.

With a small curt dip of his head, he turned the other way and stalked upstairs without another word.

His mind felt like it was on autopilot -the scene replaying over and over in his head with each step- as he reached the spare room he had been provided with, he twisted open the doorknob and entered closing it silently behind him.

Lucifer set his staff down against the bedpost, setting his hat down on the end of the kingsized bed before he sat on the surprising silk-red sheets. He ran his hand over the delicate sheets letting the recent events sink in.

He paused.

With a sudden snap of his fingers, he made two blood-red wine bottles appear into thin air, they landed on the bed with a soft clink. "Fuck it," he uttered and snatched up one of the bottles.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Alastor's eyes slowly flickered over towards Charlie after watching Lucifer's brief exit. She saw her expression soften and her horns disappear. A wave of guilt clouded her expression, she hurriedly began to make her way towards the stairs but the slim dapper demon swiftly glided in front of her.

"Al-"

"I think it's best if you do not, Charlie." He stated, raising his hand. Vaggie grasped at her hand again, "C'mon babe... Alastor is right, lets go get cleaned up then we can talk to him later." Vaggie spoke softly herding her disheartened girlfriend away.

Alastor turned sharply to the other residents who had remained still by the bar, even Nifty was eerily quiet for once. "Well, chums.. no need to stand around and crowd Husk while he is busy attending the bar.. off you go!" He said. Husk only answered with a roll of his eyes but said nothing. He knew better, of course.

Once the residents had retreated Alastor glanced upstairs. He might as well inform him that Charlie was off to go get cleaned up and sorted (even if Lucifer seemed to irritate him, he would be a good sport). He dispersed into the shadows before reappearing before Lucifer's door. He gave it a light knock and waited.

No reply.

He knocked again.

No reply.

Once more, he knocked.

A static sound erupted from him as he grew irritated, and once again he knocked even louder. His foot tapped the ground impatiently.

When he answered with silence yet again he opened the door himself, shocked to find it was in fact unlocked. "Your majesty, Cha-" Alastor started with his usual flare but he stopped mid-sentence as his eyes fell onto the crumpled, drunken shape on the floor.

Lucifer.

[l0serloki]

okay so i was thinking how valo agents are where they’re kid is now more older like 3-8 years old, idk but the thought of it is so??😖😖

Valorant Parent Headcanons

(Chamber, Reyna, Sova, Viper)

CW : GN!Reader, uhhh viper being a bad bitch as she should

A/N : YOU ARE SO RIGHT. I love soft family valorant agents <3 

ALSO K/N is kids name!!

Chamber : 

He’s the type of dad to enroll his kid in every sport or music class

‘K/N has to learn about the world! They’ll find a great hobby’

100% makes coffee and breakfast in the morning and reads the paper while his kid cries (we love the robe mom chamber look)

He makes time to go to every school recital and records it no matter how long it is

‘Our kid is so perfect Y/N. They get it from me’ (cue you punching him)

He spoils the kid rotten, taking you all on family trips

You walked into the kitchen to see your loving husband sipping away at his coffee as your children screamed. “Vincent, really?” You sighed making your way over to the twins. “It is fine, my love. Let them get it out and they’ll stop.” You loved the man but you didn’t know how he stood the noise.

“Hey kiddos, let’s calm down. Breakfast is made and we have to get ready for school.” The kids calmed down, leaning into your touch. You sat them at the table, placing their trays in front of them. Your son began talking about his violin lessons and how he had learned a new song. 

Chamber hummed, smiling at his little prodigy. “You will have to show me later. I am excited to see your progress.” He smiled towards the boy while your daughter pulled at his arm. “You too K/N, you are just as talented.” He kissed her head, picking up the dirty plates. “Have a good day at school, you two. Be nice to Y/N.” 

Reyna : 

She’s the aggressive soccer mom 100%

‘Touch my kid and you’re dead’

She would be the mom to pick up her kid from school when they got in trouble and be proud of them

‘Your kid threw a chair at another student’ ‘Good’ headass

She will hang up any drawings on the fridge and always be proud of her child

“Y/N, come here. Look at what our daughter drew. She is so talented.” Reyna’s voice sounded out as you walked into the backyard. Your wife stood smiling with a scribbled piece of paper in hand. Your daughter sat beside her, face gleaming with pride. “That’s right! I drew it.” Your daughter shot a finger gun and you could only laugh.

“Wow, this looks amazing. We have an artist in the family!” You leaned down to give Reyna a kiss, your daughter screeching. “EW, that’s gross! Stoooop.” The two of you laughed as you kissed her on the head. You loved your little family.

Sova : 

He’s such a soft dad

He will read stories to the kids to put them to bed (sometimes falling asleep himself)

Buys them little stuffed animals and trinkets whenever he has to travel for work

Your kid made him a bracelet at camp and he hasn’t taken it off since (it’s his good luck charm)

Sits and watches any disney movie for the 100th time with your kid because it makes them happy

“Papa, you kinda look like Ariel.” Your daughter spoke, making you laugh at the thought. “Ariel? You mean Eric?” Sova asked and she shook her head. “You both have long pretty hair! I think you are a mermaid, Papa.” He turned to meet your hues, confusion on his face. Your body shook as you continued to chuckle at the situation. 

“Right? He looks like Ariel.” You could only hum in agreement to your daughter. “He really does. My little princess.” You kissed Sova’s cheek as your daughter rested her head against your leg. Precious moments like these meant the world to you.

Viper : 

Bad bitch mom fr

She will curbstomp someone if they cut in line of the daycare check-in

‘Maybe learn some manners before you cut.’

She makes sure to always be there to support you and the kid, buying whatever you need (sugar mama viper)

‘I got the groceries and some toys for K/N.’ ‘You just got them a toy last week.’ ‘Oh.’

She likes doing little science experiments with your kid (like the volcano one that I feel like everyone does)

She loves taking you out to little theater shows or simple dates like ice skating

Your son screamed as Viper shoveled him in the car.

“K/N, would you stop? I told you I am going to get your toy! Just wait here.” Viper sighed as she made her way into the house to look for said toy. All three of you were going out to dinner and ice-skating. Viper said it would be a “Good family excursion and memory for K/N”. You agreed with her but K/N was not having a good time even buckling up. 

Finally after what felt like an endless abyss of tantrums, K/N calmed down and you all arrived. “K/N, are you ready to go skating? There’s pretty lights too.” Viper cooed as she helped your kid out of the baby seat. The two of you held onto your son's hand as you walked to the rink, happy to finally be out of the house. Viper was right, today would be a day to remember.

[nexility-sims]

𝐍𝐎. 𝟕   ❛ 𝐝𝐨𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 ❜   |   THE DEN, MID MARCH 1991

❧  𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲  /  𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠  /  𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬  /  𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭.

   ❛  Once the door shut, the bar's soundscape—its patrons talking and laughing, live music blaring, the slamming of doors and glasses, feet thudding along stairs—hushed. The small backroom may well have been underwater. That was where Leonor’s mind went as she heard the muffled noise, although the red overhead lighting suggested a place more alien than the blue tunnels of Nakawe’s public aquarium. Soon enough, her host’s voice drowned out the murky sounds. They spoke in a conversational tone as she lingered by the door, not needing to raise their voices or lean in close to be heard. Any anxiety she brought from home that evening was long gone. Now two hours in, immersing herself in a room of undimmed vitality had an effect. So too had the sweet beers that found their way into her hands. She had entered the room at Renzo's request and was now, more than anything else, curious.

❧ yay, finally some fun stuff ! i wanted to write more (and write better) for this scene, but i ended up being sick :/ anyway, a few paragraphs is progress, and hopefully there'll be more going forward ! i miss the writing i was doing in episode one, smh. also: in uspanian parlance, a "flower girl" as used here is a sex worker dfdsfk

𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐞𝐝 & 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭 ↓

Leonor knew she was being studied as they sat shoulder-to-shoulder, breezing through the small talk of introductions. That was normal. Indeed, it hadn't been a surprise to her that he wanted to meet her. In most settings, it was de rigueur that an establishment's owner sought the honor and responsibility of welcoming whatever royal decided to visit. Leonor took the opportunity to study him, too. Despite being a stranger, his mannerisms gave her something to work with. He was unlike her. Informal and familiar, he struck her as strange in the way those few regular people she encountered always did. In this case, she liked it. The ease with which he spoke gripped her attention. It was disarming. More than that, it encouraged her to play along. They sank further into the couch together, cozying up as if this was a nightly occurrence instead of a first time meeting.

An illusion of intimacy descended over them, and Leonor spoke thoughtlessly as he held her gaze. She could tell he had more to say—that, sensing she was willing to be forthcoming, he wanted to meet her there. The acrid smell of cigarettes blanketed the tiny space, but Leonor also noticed a different sort of heady scent clung to his skin. Whatever he wore was earthy, heavy cedar or tobacco cut with something fruit-like, sweet, pungent. It wasn't that she had a nose for such things. The proximity distracted her. If she wanted, she could close the mere inches of space between them and inhale directly from the source. She knew he had arrived only recently and imagined him, perhaps an hour earlier, in a bathroom somewhere holding a sleek fragrance bottle. On impulse, she opted to cut the conversation short. She leaned in with, not a care, but the nascent awareness that there would be many more conversations to come.

TRANSCRIPT:

LEONOR | I think I overdressed …

KORE | Renzo isn’t here yet, so— LEONOR | Do I have to meet someone new tonight? KORE | He asked. It’ll be fine.

KORE | Stop stalling! Just open the door and go chat. LEONOR | I feel like a flower girl. SYBIL | Hey, that’s good money, you could be— LEONOR | [Groans]

RENZO | They didn’t come in? LEONOR | [Sighs]

RENZO | Come on, sit down. No pressure.

LEONOR | Nice to meet you. I’m Leonor— RENZO | [Laughs] Oh, yeah, I know.

LEONOR | Kore had to tell me who you were. I’m sorry, but I really don’t watch much television. RENZO | Doesn’t offend me. Small screen actors and princesses? Different leagues.

RENZO | So, what should I call you, then? “My princess?” LEONOR | People call me Nora. Friends.

RENZO | I can? LEONOR | If you want to. RENZO | Yeah, I do. I’m glad you came, Nora.

RENZO | … You seem out of place. LEONOR | I feel that way. Or, less now. It’s not somewhere I would have thought to go, but it feels welcoming. Friendly. RENZO | A rule of Renzo’s Refuge—unspoken, exclusive, of course. Some of us have images to maintain.

LEONOR | Kore said it was supposed to be a “haven.” RENZO | [Snickers] A stretch to you, huh?

RENZO | I just wanted a private place to drop the act and be myself. There aren’t a lot of people who get it but, those who do, it’s what they want, too. This life sucks sometimes. A lot. The rest of it is just—you know, my interests. Hobbies. I came here a ton before I bought it.

LEONOR | What can I say? It’s intriguing when you put it like that. RENZO | How did it sound before?

LEONOR | Pretentious. RENZO | Oh, you’d know about that, huh. [Both laugh]

RENZO | Well, no worries, I’ll take a convert. Maybe you’ll be a true believer after a few nights.

LEONOR | I’m surprised I’m here tonight. I’ve been sad and hiding. RENZO | Death does that. Are you a sad person? LEONOR | I don’t know what kind of person I am.

RENZO | Well, you know— LEONOR | No offense but, if I hear the “destruction, rebirth” platitude again, I’m going to scream. RENZO | [Chuckles] I was going to say that’s free license to try as many kinds as you like—go wild with it, you know, cut loose? Can princesses do that?—but I guess that’d be the very Uspanian thing to say.

LEONOR | [Hums] That’s setting in. It doesn’t matter anymore. RENZO | What doesn’t? LEONOR | What I do. Who I am. It’s overwhelming.

RENZO | Word of advice: that’s just what total freedom feels like— LEONOR | Uh huh. I’ll take your word for it—

KORE | [Squealing] Yes! SYBIL | [offscreen] Hurry up! Tell them to zip it up—it’s showtime!

[samgirl98]

Mending a Family 24/?

Prev | Next

I'm not too proud of this chapter. It feels a bit disjointed, but I needed certain things to happen to progress the story a bit. Sorry if it's not my usual standard of writing. Let me know what you think

Dick was with his siblings. They were playing with Mar’i. Soon, she would start school, and he was terrified of letting her go alone.

She was his baby; she was too young.

Tim came up to him, holding a cup of coffee. Dick frowned at his younger brother. Tim had the audacity to smirk and take a sip. His bags were prominent. The brothers stood next to each other in silence for a while. Dick watched as his little girl floated in the air and her aunts and uncles chased her.

“I found some footage of Jason close to the Canadian border.”

Dick straightened. He knew his younger brother was alive thanks to the present he had sent Alfred.

“He had a kid with him.”

Dick turned toward Tim, surprised.

“What,” he asked.

“Yeah, the kid was four or five, maybe six, but I doubt it. Barbara and I found the footage a while ago, but I didn’t know how to bring it up. I haven’t found any more traces of them, but I think Jason crossed the border.”

Dick turned to Mar’i. Did she have a cousin?

Why was he feeling betrayed when he had kept Mar’i away from Jason?

“Give me a moment,” Dick said, walking away from Tim. He took out a phone and called Roy. He was surprised the man had picked up.

“What do you want, Grayson?”

“Does Jason have a kid,” he asked without preamble. He wanted to catch the other man off guard. A surprised person was most likely to tell the truth.

“I have no idea what you mean, Grayson.”

“Listen, if Jason has a kid with him, we deserve to know.”

“You don’t deserve to know shit about Jason. You guys abandoned him. How about you leave the man alone, and you and your whole family get therapy? I hear Dinah has some openings.”

Roy hung up, and Dick still hadn’t gotten his answer. How was Bruce going to take this? Should they even tell him without more evidence? What if Jason had a kid and left because he didn’t want the family around his child?

Mar’i’s laughter seemed to haunt him.

____

Danny pouted as Jason took pictures of him. He looked so cute with his little backbag.

“Daddy, are you done yet,” Danny whined.

“Almost, kiddo, just one more picture, please?”

It wasn’t fair for daddies to have puppy eyes.

It was Danny’s first day at school, and his dad was going overboard with the first-day pictures. Jazz couldn’t help but smile.

“We’re gonna be late,” Danny said. He didn’t care about being on time but wanted the torture to stop.

His dad had enrolled him in a school for gifted children. He would be taught in French and English. Danny knew he would hate it. Well, he would only have to deal with it for one semester, and then he could bow out of preschool.

Daddy drove him to school.

He suddenly felt nervous when he saw the building and all the kids entering.

“It’ll be fine, chum,” Jason told his son. He felt his little boy’s anxiety. “Do you want me to walk you to your classroom?”

Danny nodded. He took his daddy’s hand, and they walked into the building. Jason introduced himself to the teacher. She seemed nice.

“Okay, kiddo, you’re gonna be brave, right?”

Danny nodded. He had never been away from his dad. What if something bad happened?

“It’ll be fine, darling boy.”

His dad hugged him, “Now, go and have fun.”

Danny let go of his dad. He looked back one last time before entering the classroom. It was colorful. The five-year-old in him liked all the colors and toys. The sixteen-year-old in him cringed away from the noise. It was tough being two ages at once.

Danny sat by a girl with glasses and blonde hair.

“Bonjour, je m’appelle Sarah. Comment t’appelles-tu?”

“Sorry, I don’t speak French,” Danny said.

“Hi, I’m Sarah. What’s your name?”

“Danny,” he said. The girl smiled at him, showing that she had missing teeth. Oh, Ancients, were his teeth going to start falling out soon?

“Nice to meet you, Danny.”

Danny took a deep breath. If he would be here for the next few months, he might as well make a friend so he wouldn’t be lonely.

Danny smiled at the girl, “Nice to meet you, too.”

“Okay, class, let’s get to know each other,” the teacher suddenly said.

Danny sighed; it was going to be a long day.

____

Jason sighed.

It was going to be a long day. He didn’t know how dependent he had gotten on taking care of Danny.

Now that his little boy was gone, he didn’t know what to do with himself. He went back home and spent the day with Ellie.

He kept the phone close in case the school called.

He never imagined how long the day would be without Danny around. Is this what every parent had to deal with when their child went to school?

He knew school was good for Danny. It would help entertain him, and it would be easier to make friends. But, God, he was missing his little boy!

Ellie giggled at him as she threw her baby food on his face.

“Now, Ellie, we don’t waste food.”

The little girl gave a toothy grin. Jason couldn’t help but smile back.

“Maybe you should go out on a walk,” Jazz came and said suddenly.

“What, why?” He got another spoonful of baby food, and Ellie gladly bit into it. Her little teeth left marks on the spoon.

“You need to learn to deal with Danny being away. Maybe find a hobby to do. You’re not going to feel better staying indoors.”

“I’m fine,” Jason said. Ellie had finished her food.

Jazz rolled her eyes and took Ellie with her. Great, now what should he do?

He went outside and sat on the porch. Suddenly, the phone rang.

Jason picked it up before the second ring sounded.

“Hello,” he said, feeling scared. What if something had happened to Danny?

“Hey, Jay, it’s me.”

Jason felt himself relax at Roy’s voice.

“Hey, Roy, how you been?”

“Good, good,” Roy’s voice trailed off.

“Is something wrong? Is Lian okay?”

“Yeah, Lian is good. How are the kids?”

“Great, Danny started his first day of school today.”

“Oh, ouch, I remember Lian’s first day in preschool. It was tough.”

“I have a feeling you called for something,” Jason said after a moment of silence.

“Dick called me earlier,” Jason tensed again, “He asked me if you had a kid. I didn’t tell him anything.”

Jason sucked in a breath. Dick knew, which meant that Bruce would know soon. Would he have to move again? He didn’t want to lose his son!

Jazz came out with Ellie in her arms, frowning, “What’s wrong?”

“Do they know where I’m at?”

“From what I can tell, no. Look, I don’t think you should worry, but I had to tell you they knew about Danny.”

“Yeah, thanks, Roy. You’re a real one.”

“Take care, Jay. I’ll keep my ears to the ground.”

“What’s wrong,” Jazz asked. She sat by Jason; even Ellie looked concerned.

“My old family knows about Danny. What if they come and take him away from me?”

Jazz put her hand on Jason’s, “Hey, look at me. Neither Danny nor I will allow anyone to break up this little family. Besides, Raven has shielded us with spells; they won’t find us. And if they do, we’ll kick their butts.”

“Thanks, Jazz.”

They sat in silence, each contemplating the future.

@itsberrydreemurstuff @idontgetpaidenoughforthisshit @skulld3mort-1fan @theauthorandtheartist @emergentpanda-blog @jaggedheart11 @fisticuffsatapplebees @booberrylizard @fantasticbluebirdfan @thegatorsgooseoose @cyrwrites @kjoboo91 @crystallicedart @amaramizuki666 @spekulatiusmuffin @meira-3919 @kilasmess @bubblemixer @lexdamo @wonderland-daisy @mj-arts-n-stuff @amyheart19 @dolfay @the-church-grimm @undead-essence @aph-mable @lizisipancardo @purrloin77 @writer-extraodinaire @charlietheepic7 @sinfulloccultist @nootherusernameworked @coruscateselene @chaoticchange @itsberrydreemurstuff @gmkelz11 @feral-bunny31 @paroovian @thatonegaybitch68 @d4ydr34min9 @overtherose @fandomwandererer @vipower001 @thordottir45 @blackrabbitt3t @rosecinnamonbun @bianca-hooks123 @epilepticnerd @dat1angel @consouling @flamingenchiladadragon @all-mights-asscheeks @ender-reader @fuyu-bitch @ravenswife

[bluejaysandblackbats]

Eyes and Ears

Fandom: DC Comics, Batfam

Summary: An AU where Barbara finds Jason instead of Bruce.

Chapters: 7/?

Characters: Jason Todd, Barbara Gordon, Jim Gordon, Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne, Sheila Haywood, Original Character(s)

Relationship(s): Jason Todd/Original Character(s), Past Barbara Gordon/Dick Grayson

Additional Tags: Canon Divergent AU, Older SIbling Barbara Gordon, Jason Todd-centric, Barbara Gordon is Oracle, Jason Todd is NOT Robin, Jason Todd Has Issues, Jason Todd Has a Crush, Adopted Siblings

Chapter Seven: Seaside

Barbara went out as Batgirl shortly after dinner, leaving Jason home alone to wait for Jim. As the night progressed, Jason lay on the couch watching tv. He wanted to be awake when Jim returned. It reminded him of how Jason often waited for his parents to come home, and that's what worried him most. As hard as he tried to stay awake for Jim's return, he couldn't keep his eyes open past two in the morning.

Jim dragged his feet as he entered the house around three in the morning. His body and mind were weary as he hung his coat up and kicked his shoes off. He turned the tv off and smiled at Jason, who lay curled up on the couch, holding one of the throw pillows to his chest. Jim picked Jason up and held him for a moment before taking Jason to his room to tuck him into bed. Jason took hold of Jim's wrist and mumbled, "Don't go... Please don't go." His voice was broken. Jim pushed Jason's hair back.

"I'm not going anywhere. I'm right here... We might have to go get ice cream in the morning, though," Jim whispered as he sat down on the floor by Jason's bedside. Jason turned on his stomach, facing Jim, and he opened his eyes.

"Are you okay?" Jason asked. Jim took a deep breath.

"Mind if I tell you what happened and why I was gone so long?" Jim asked. Jason nodded.

Jim talked about his work with Batman and how many bombs they had to defuse around the city, and Jason stopped him. "But are you okay?" Jason asked. Jim paused, and his shoulders dropped.

"I'm exhausted, and I feel bad for how I left you earlier... I want you to know that I would've come home hours ago if I could've. I don't want you to think I abandoned you," Jim whispered.

"You were working," Jason yawned.

Jim left the room and showered, and climbed into bed. He lay awake for a few minutes only to hear Jason's footsteps in his room. Jim lay still and listened to Jason make a shuffling noise before complete silence. He turned on his side and met eyes with Jason. Despite the pounding in Jim's head, he opened his mouth and whispered, "It's cold down there. Come up here." Jason hesitated for a moment before climbing into Jim's bed, and he closed his eyes. Jim threw the blankets over Jason and took a deep breath.

"I was dreaming about my mom... My birth one. I mean, I don't know her, but maybe this is the way she wanted things to be. Maybe she didn't want me," Jason whispered, "Maybe she doesn't want to be found..."

Jim kissed the top of Jason's head. "I can't imagine someone not wanting a kid like you... But I honestly hope that even if you do find her, you'll consider making this your home for good," Jim whispered.

"You'd want me to stay for the next five years? Like until I turn eighteen?" Jason asked.

"Or until you're ready to leave home. I figure if you're still living with me by the time I retire, we could go live in Maine... Get away from all the noise. We could go fishing there," Jim whispered as he went on to describe the coastal cities and the lighthouses and the silence. Jason's breathing slowed, and Jim kept speaking as if Maine was some fairy tale place.

Jim drifted off to sleep only after he knew Jason was fast asleep. They both slept late into the next day, only waking once the sun was too bright to ignore. "Pop?" Jason asked as he sat up, and Jim groaned. "Therapy?"

"Mhm, we'll pick someone out together... But first, let's go eat, okay? I promised my son I'd take him out for ice cream," Jim smiled. Jason got out of bed, and he stood in the doorway.

"I know I just kind of got you, but... You're the best dad I've ever had," Jason whispered before waving. The words made Jim's heart heavy. He got cleaned up and dressed before leaving his room and ran into Barbara in the kitchen.

"You do realize that you just can't promise him ice cream and make things okay, right?" Barbara asked. Jim nodded solemnly.

"I know," he replied, "But I did talk to him about therapy, and he said he'll give it a try as long as I'm there with him."

"How'd you manage that? He wouldn't even—."

"I took a different approach. Do you want to come with us to get ice cream?" Jim asked. Barbara nodded.

"Sure, why not. I have a day off... Also, I noticed... This is the second night in a row that he hasn't slept in his bed," Barbara noted. Jim nodded.

"I know. But last night was sort of my fault. He was gonna sleep on the floor," Jim explained. Jason came out of the bathroom and stretched out. "Hey, I'll be downstairs." Jason nodded and moved to follow Jim before Barbara took his hand.

"Can I talk to you for a second?" Barbara asked. Jason nodded and stood in the kitchen with her. "You okay?"

"Train me," Jason whispered.

"What?" Barbara exclaimed. "No! Are you crazy? You're just barely thirteen, that's way too young—."

"How old was Robin when he started? He didn't exactly look like he was in his early twenties," Jason whispered.

"Robin wasn't my baby brother. You are," Barbara replied as she tried to walk past him, and he grabbed her wrist.

"I already lost one family. I'm not gonna lose this one," Jason tightened his hold on her wrist, not to hurt her, but to let her know he was serious. She sighed.

"I'm not letting you in the field, but I'll consider it," Barbara replied, and he embraced her. She stood still in shock for a moment before hugging him back. "I'm serious. It's not a yes. I'm just thinking about it."

She tried to keep a stern look on her face, but she couldn't help but smile. "I call shotgun, Barbie!" Jason smiled as he ran down the stairs.

"Wait! No one calls me that!" Barbara shouted as she locked up and followed him down the steps and out to the car. Jason chuckled to himself in the front seat.

While they were eating ice cream, Barbara tried to think about the idea of a partner, but she knew he was far too young and much too traumatized to be out in the field. On the other hand, he would be too busy training to worry about losing them and decided that keeping Jason preoccupied was her best option.

She understood where Jason was coming from, but she was no Batman. She could only allow him to dream, nothing more. Barbara secretly hoped that he would lose interest as his fear of loss subsided. Only time would tell.

[prettyflyshyguy]

He's a monster, and he's hungry.

Wrote this over a few days because I'm. Not ok about this. It's on AO3, and under the cut cause it's a short one. Not super edited, just got desperate for more content exploring when Dean was a vampire and when I found none I was like "well alright. Guess I'll make it then."

“I can’t believe it.”

Dean paced the length of the hotel room, passing back and forth by the table where his brother sat, prowling like an animal in captivity.

“You just stood there and watched that freak turn me!”

He stared at Sam, hoping for a change in his reaction, a look of sympathy, an admission of guilt, some form of recognition that something fucked up happened in the alley. Sam’s face was blank, his heartbeat steady, and frankly he just didn’t seem to care. In fact, he hadn’t seemed to care about much recently. He was a cold, lifeless, empty husk and Dean was tired of it. His usual quips brought no frustrated response, no snappy replies, he was simply brushed off. There was no banter, no anger, simply complete and utter apathy no matter what he said. Sam had his moments, everyone did. Dean knew he had a tendency to push his luck, many people had told him this. But Sam was different, they were siblings. Sam putting up with him being an ass was just how things were, and would always be. At least it's how it should be. After everything they’d seen and done together… If Sam held any resentment, he’d have made it clear by this stage. He was a good liar, but Dean could always tell. They both knew each other too well. If he had any doubt something was off about Sam, it was quickly disintegrating as he stalked the room, watching him blankly staring up at him from the small table. Not even fidgeting in the slightest. 

They’d been pushed to their limits before, and Sam was always the first to speak up when something was wrong. 

“Dean.”

His lip curled at the sound of his name. It was so hollow. So static. It reminded him of school, when his teacher would check the roll call. It was an obligation and a requirement, not something done out of genuine care. 

He decided to push a little harder.

“I mean what the hell was that all about Sam? Revenge? To get me back?” he growled. 

“You know you’ve talked so much shit about me taking risks, is this all just some master plan to show me the error of my ways? A jab back at how you still, somehow deep down, think I’m Dad’s perfect son?”

He stood still, observing for a change in reaction. Dean desperately wanted to find a tiny shift in body language, a subtle twitch in his eyes or mouth, that sad glint in his eyes.

He breathed out slowly as Sam once again stared back with soulless eyes and a steady heart.

Not enough, Ok, he thought. He was an expert at this. Maybe Sam had steeled up after all these years. 

It wasn’t a completely unreasonable possibility. 

“I almost hurt Lisa and Ben, Sam! I came so close, I could have killed them and no one would have been there to stop me, but you were!”

He took a step towards Sam as he spoke, the venom of the accusation lingering in the air.

Sam breathed out and shuffled in his seat. Finally, a response. 

“Dean, you need to calm down.”

You calm down.

He took another step closer, noting the slight increase in pace of Sam’s heart. Progress, hell yeah. A smile tugged at the edges of his lips though Dean’s eyes were as cold as Sam’s.

“Oh, that's rich coming from you! That’s easy for you to say when you’re not being assaulted by noise like you went to the movies and an intern did the mixing.”

He took another step closer. 

The thrumming beat increased in speed once more. 

“Dean.”

“S’matter of fact,” Dean slid his fingers across the tabletop, tracing the grooves in the rough wooden surface, “you’re exceptionally calm given I’m now stuck doing a bad David Boreanaz impression for an indefinite period of time, with no guarantee this Campbell special will even work.”

He looked up from where his hand slid along the table to match Sam’s unwavering gaze. His brother tilted his head to look up at him as Dean hovered above, adjusting in his seat. Sam slipped his left arm over the backrest of the chair. 

Dean’s expression turned cold once more.

“And I’ve been thinking, Sammy. It’s ironic. Between that creep, you just standing there and watching, and…” jabbing his thumb back towards himself he gestured “... me…” 

Dean slammed his hand back down on the table, leaning in closer. The headlights of a car flickered through the slim gap in the middle of the window curtains drawn behind them. It reflected off of Dean’s eyes for a split second, making Sam flinch. It reminded him of the animals on the side of the highway, peering at them through the bushes before darting away when they drove late at night.

“Begs the question,” Dean continued. “Which one of us is the real monster?”

Sam swallowed. The first real visible sign of him showing some nerves. He’d finally cracked him.

“Since you can hear my heartbeat,” Sam spoke slowly, “what does it say about me now?” 

His tone was outwardly calm, but Dean could hear through him. 

“It says you’re shit scared, Sammy.”

Sam waited for a few seconds before opening his mouth to respond. Whatever he said, Dean didn’t seem to notice, as his gaze began to shift from Sam’s face down to where the light of the window caught the curve of his exposed bare neck. A pang of hunger swelled in the pit of his chest as the noise and light and intensity of the room faded away until all that was left was the steady sound of the beating, beating, beating. 

A sharp, intense pain stung the side of Dean’s neck breaking him free of the trance as he collapsed to the ground groaning and twitching in pain. Through fading vision he looked up to see Sam still sitting on the chair, slouching back, but holding a syringe in his left hand. The contents empty. 

“You… sonof-abich…” his words formed a slurry as his body went limp.

-

“Nice of you to join us Samuel.”

“What the hell is going on here?”

“Sam’s showing me what all those years of boy scout training taught him to do.”

Dean sat on a chair, his legs, arms and chest bound with thick twine rope. Smiling at Samuel for a moment, he motioned with what little mobility he had in his hands to indicate. Samuel glanced at his brother with a questioning look.

“You did this?”

“He shot me full of dead man’s blood, and I gotta say, that’s one hell of a drug.” 

Dean’s tone was dry and unimpressed. Samuel assessed the room, looking as though he wanted to ask more questions, but decided against it. 

“Anyway you said you were getting something to help?” Dean’s voice broke the silence.

“This is help.”

Samuel pulled a glass jar out of a brown paper bag, setting it on the table. The contents was dark and viscous. It had sloshed around in transit, coating the airgap at the top of the jar. The light pierced through the clear glass and bright red light danced across the varnished wood tabletop.

“Wh- what is that?” 

“Cows blood.” Samuel said curtly.

“That’s help?”

“It’ll keep you alive.”

As he twisted the lid open Dean’s eyes flicked between the jar and the two men.

“Well can you at least untie me first?” he pleaded, his voice straining. 

The rope dug into his wrists and the thought of being spoon fed cows blood was sending his mind to a dark and violent place.

“Dean, it's just a precaution.” Samuel attempted to be reassuring. 

Dean clenched his jaw. Precaution for what. You weren’t even here to see Sam attack me.

“Oh cut the bullcrap!” Dean spat, pulling against the rope binding his arms and legs. “C three P O over here was a bit too cautious back in the alley and look where it got us!”

Samuel stared at him tensely. Dean winced as a spike of sound ringed in his head from a car horn outside. 

“Look I’m fine, Samuel. Really. Just untie me.”

The older man hesitated.

“Please?” Dean cracked a smile that usually got him whatever he wanted.

Usually.

Samuel watched him carefully while he placed the jar lid on the table. The unmistakable smell of iron, meat and death began to waft through the room. He leaned into the scent as he realised just how hungry he was. How dry his throat was. How much the deep, dark red called out to him.

“Samuel I will kill you if you try and hand feed that shit to me.”

The older man raised an eyebrow in response, unimpressed, and picked up the jar.

“Wait!” 

Dean grimaced and hissed through gritted teeth as Sam called out from the other side of the table.

“One drop of human blood is enough, are we sure that cow’s blood is clean?”

“Oh you gotta be fucking kidding me Sammy…” Dean groaned.

Samuel paused, running it through his mind, blinking a few times, he contemplated the risk and the chance. Looking back, Sam shrugged silently.

“Sam has a point. If any human blood, from a cut or a scratch, got into this at the abattoir, you’re done.”

Dean ignored him and glared at Sam.

“God I can’t listen to you right now.”

“I didn’t say anything!” Sam blurted in frustration. 

“Your fucking heartbeat man! It's so loud, it's so monotonous it’s killing me! Look, Samuel, just cut this fuckin rope and hand me the fuckin jar.”

Reluctantly, and cautiously, he pulled out a hunting knife from a holster on his belt. Staying as far from Dean as possible, he nicked part of the rope on Dean’s right arm just enough for him to wiggle it loose. Waving it in the air and stretching the fingers, Dean looked back to the two who were eyeing him off.

“See that wasn’t so bad now was it.” Dean’s tone was sarcastic and he tapped the armrest with his index finger.

“C’mon guys don’t look so nervous.  You can just drug me up again, it’s not like that's off the cards is it Sammy.”

Sam glanced away at the mention of his name, Samuel grunted in frustration as he reached for the jar and took a step towards the chair. In an instant the background thrum of his heart filled Dean’s mind, it was faster, full of nerves and fear compared to Sam’s horribly persistent flat tone. As he approached holding the jar out, Dean felt something shift under his lip.

“NO.”

His voice boomed as he jerked back in his seat, the legs scraping against the floor. Breathing sharply, he tilted his head down avoiding the stares of his associates. 

“Get away from me.”

Grunting and breathing through gritted, sharpened teeth, he glanced up. 

“Sammy, drop the machete.”

They’d both instinctively reached for their weapons. Brandishing them high, already poised for a clean decapitating swing. Dean growled and heaved deep breaths of air, flexing the remaining restraints. He could break free, if he wanted to. With one arm loose, he could easily rip the remaining rope off. He contemplated the thought, reveling in how powerful it made him feel. 

“Dean?”

Samuel’s voice snapped him back to reality. He’d placed his machete back on the table, Sam had lowered his but still gripped it. 

Dean extended his free arm out and flicked his hand towards the table.

“Just hand me the fuckin jar already.”

Samuel was quick to oblige, and quicker to back away once Dean had it in his grip. He tried to not dwell on the way his companions looked at his mouth instead of his face. He could feel the second set of teeth against his lips, his tongue. The smell of blood was suffocating him now, a mixture of alluring coppery tones and the stench of raw stale flesh. He wasn’t sure which was making him feel more ill. The pungent aroma or the fact he liked something in it.

“So you two just gonna watch like this is some sort of peep show or what?”

Neither responded, still fixated on his every move. Pulling a face, Dean limply held the jar up as it to toast before bringing it to his lips. Taking a tentative sip, he recoiled as blood spilt down his chin. Groaning and sputtering he violently spat it out.

“Augh, god this tastes disgusting–”

“I promised you help, I didn’t promise it’d taste nice. Now drink it.”

[ofinkandpaper]

A Changed World

Yandere!Villian!MHA x Reader

Hello! Finally, after nearly an entire year, I have finally finished chapter two with the gracious help and beta reading of @cupidcreates ❤️ So many things have been going on in my personal life and I really appreciate y'all's patience with this. Also, to clarify why I tag certain characters though they don't appear in a this chapter: they are referenced and are an important character to the story as a whole, so it makes it easier for me to keep track of what tags I should put on each chapter when they're all the same.

Note: The characters are aged up. As the story progresses, I will tag each chapter with respective trigger and content warnings, which may include mentions of murder, assault, cannibalism, stalking, torture, arson, terrorism, and other felonies, Yandere themes, Sexual assault, Mental illness, abuse. I do not own MHA nor do these personalities represent the writers, characters or VAs of the show. This is strictly fiction and for entertainment purposes only.

**Trigger Warnings: Implied Stalking/Being Watched

Word Count: 3,566

Taglist: @lolawassad @letskidaddle @youngbeansprout @bakuhoes-dumbass @cupidcreates

"Okay, so here's what I'm thinking." You glanced up from your computer for a moment, pausing in writing the few reports Tamaki had asked you for to give Kendo the small amount of attention you knew would be needed for her to continue talking.

Her casual drone, when comfortable, made for nice background noise and gave you a sense of peace.

"You could always move in with me! Sure, you may have to deal with Monoma every once in a while, but he's mellowed out a bit since we graduated so he isn't as much of a nuisance as he used to be." The thought made you scoff, but gave you a tiny bit of hope for the blonde man. Even with as much hate as he spewed at your fellow classmates, you had a small soft spot for him. As far as you could recall, you were one of the few that he had actually confided in when it came to his quirk insecurity - whether a copying quirk was a good fit for hero work or not, and not having much support about it in his childhood. Sometimes it made you wonder, a little dejectedly, if he had been making a jab at your own quirk. Sure it wasn't anything fancy like Hawks' was, but you liked it well enough.

"You of all people know I don't actually mind being around him, Itsuka." You huffed a laugh and went back to typing, "Besides, I can tell you right now I'm not a good roommate. Partially due to my quirk and partially due to how much I enjoy being alone sometimes."

"Oh please, if I could handle you in the UA dorms, I can handle you in a regular living situation." You could almost feel the force of her eye roll as you hear her flop back onto your bed. You glance at the clock to check the time before continuing to type, making a silent promise to finish this one report and send what you have done while promising Tamaki you would finish the rest tomorrow.

You wanted at least a few hours with your friend while she was here, you know?

"Honestly, I think you only managed that because of Monoma and Tetsutetsu." You smirk and glance her way again. Again, she scoffed and waved a hand dismissively as she turned her attention to her phone. Once more, back to the paperwork grind, you pushed through the last few sentences before sending them off to their respective destinations.

"Oh. There was one other thing I wanted to ask about." You swivel to face Kendo, frowning as she sat up and gave you the most serious look you've seen on her the entire day.

"What's up?"

"Are you really okay living here? With all the gang activity?"

The sudden weight of her questions caused a slight tension to rise over your body and your expression to fall a touch. You turned away from her as you thought of an answer, staring blankly at your keyboard. You could hear her shifting - uncomfortably, you assumed - as she tried to wait patiently for your response.

It was hard to think of an answer that didn't sound like there was some lie to it. Sure, you were used to the gangs, and appreciated that they didn't make your life as much of hell as they probably could… but that didn't mean you were entirely comfortable with them getting away with strong arming innocent civilians just because they knew the local heroes weren't supported enough to be able to stand up confidently and fully against them.

In all honesty, you had half a mind sometimes to leave Tamaki's agency and join the local one to add some backbone to the force.

"It's alright… it's not exactly what I would really want, but it's what I can afford at the moment.” You pause and give a shrug, “And the gangs haven’t been too bad recently. Just wish the hero agency in this area had a bit more support so they could actually do something about it all.”

Kendo was quiet as she took in your words, and with your attention away from her, her expression neutralized. It would have been easy for you to see the thoughts that swirled behind her eyes; thinking of how she could help and who she could talk to about either easing the situation in your neighborhood or getting you to move elsewhere. Having known you since your schooling days, she knew you were a stubborn one - she could almost put you on par with Midorya and Bakugo, if she were being completely honest.

Maybe a talk with Nejire was in order.

She forced a smile on her lips as she stood and went over, humming as she placed a hand on your shoulder. You looked up at her, finding a soft smile coming easy to you in response to her own.

“Well, while you figure out what you want to really do - don’t lie to me, I can tell you’re thinking about it - remember you have a plethora of people who have your back if you ever wanna move out.”

You sigh and nod, softly mentioning Tamaki’s offer to help you move closer to his agency. There was a sudden, but subtle, stiffness in her hand, though before you could really question it, she relaxed and moved away towards the bedroom door.

“Why haven’t you taken him up on it yet? Oh, and did you want any tea?” She pauses at the door, waiting for your answer. You hum and nod, standing to follow her to the kitchen. This small moment made you glad she still felt comfortable enough with you to know she could make use of your home-space as if it were her own.

“I don’t know… if I’m being honest, I just really don’t want to feel like I’m taking advantage of his kindness. Like, getting me an entire house? That’s a lot - way too much! I could never just casually go ‘oh sure, thanks boss!’ to something like that.” You hoisted yourself up onto the counter, swinging your legs a little as you watch Kendo shuffling around getting the kettle and mugs set up. She raised a brow and glanced your way for a moment as she turned the oven on to start boiling the water.

“A house? I thought his offer was for an apartment.” You make an elongated noise, accompanied by the shrug of your shoulders and one of your hands swaying side to side in a ‘maybe’ gesture.

“House, apartment… he’s offered a few different options, including moving in with him,” Again you shrug, “But, again, it's nothing that I can easily accept from him. Not only do I not wanna  seem like a burden that needs to be protected, but I also don’t want to step on his toes and feel like I’m taking advantage of his kindness.”

She seemed to fall quiet in her thoughts as she watched the kettle, waiting for the whistle to signal that the water was ready. You let yourself relax a little further and rest your head against the edge of the cabinets while surveying the rest of the kitchen casually. Would it really be so bad if you decided to take one of them up on their offer to move in? Well, Tamaki did offer first - but Kendo was, as you felt, a closer friend. Glancing up at the ceiling, you contemplated if there had been anyone else that you could recall offering you a place to stay that wasn’t infested with more gang activity than a single hero could handle; you pull a blank as the kettle begins to whistle. Kendo picks it up and softly asks you to hold the tea bag strings in place as she pours. You were glad to do it; it gave your mind something else to focus on, and your hands something to do.

“I don’t think he would ever consider it as being taken advantage of. He is the one that offered in the first place.” She smiled and set the kettle on a cool stove burner before picking up and handing you one of the mugs. You gave her a soft thanks, accompanied by a roll of your eyes.

“That is true, but he is still my boss. If it isn’t the thought of taking advantage of his kindness, then I could only imagine what the more immature members of the agency would think if they caught wind.” That got a responsive giggle as the red haired girl shook her head almost wildly; you were pretty sure that if she hadn’t had that cup of tea in her hands, pressed against her chest, she would be waving her hands all over the place.

“I don’t even want to think about that! I’ve seen some of the members of your agency - I’m honestly surprised Suneater hasn’t said anything to them about their behaviour yet.” For some reason, her calling Tamaki by his hero name gave you pause to ponder slightly - had you been the only one to call him by his name this entire time? And why did it feel weird to hear him being referred to as anything beyond his name? You shake the thoughts before you could dive too far down that specific rabbit hole.

“I’m not sure, but I do recall him talking to a few at one point. Must’ve been really bad considering how they ended up acting like absolutely perfect angels after their private conversation with him.” You sipped your tea and let your mind wander again for a moment. What had those few done that caused Tamaki to actually reprimand them like he had, and not any of the other kinds of offenders? Kendo shrugged and took a sip of her own tea. However, before she could speak, her phone began to ring from the bedroom. Excusing herself, she set down her mug and darted off to answer it - you hoped you hadn’t kept her for too long. She hadn’t even mentioned if she was on call for hero work today or not before coming over to hang out.

You continued to nurse your tea, carefully leaping down from the counter so as not to knock her mug over in the process or spill any of yours.  You meander  into the living room and ponder if you wanted to either watch TV or grab a book to read. Or, as the thought came, you could go grab your own phone and either mindlessly scroll through social media or read fanfiction of your favorite shows and movies. You had a bit of a guilty pleasure when it came to reader inserts - though you weren’t sure why you called it guilty when it was a perfectly acceptable form of written media for your consumption!

You turned towards the bedroom as Kendo came back out, a pout on her lips as she went to her mug to take a few more quick sips before dumping the rest. Your brows furrowed in silent question when she finally turned towards you.

“Got called in to help with a few rougher captures.” She sighed and shook her head, “Guess the newbies weren’t as well trained in the area as we thought they were.”

“That’s understandable, was anyone hurt?”

“No casualties yet, but if you want I can keep you up to date on the progress?” You nod and she smiled, returning it before striding over to grab her bag. Instead of her usual hug and verbal goodbyes, she gave you a quiet wave as she slipped out the door. You sigh and glance around the room again before sitting down and flicking the TV on to see if there was anything good on at the moment, or if you were going to have to switch over to one of your streaming services.

✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩

The moment the door shut behind her, Kendo sighed and pulled her phone out to redial Nejire-Chan.

Hello~?

“Just left their apartment, everything seems to be fine.” She spoke softly as she moved away from the door, keeping her head down as an unexpectedly deep frown found a home on her lips. She heard Nejire hum from the other end for a moment or two before she spoke again.

I’m glad to hear it! Gotta make sure Suneater’s little star stays safe… though, you seem to be troubled by something? The question almost caused Kendo to laugh, even over the phone no one could keep even a single thought from the woman’s notice.

“Did you know he had offered them to move in with him?” There was a pause on the other end before a playful groan.

Seriously? Talk about a bold move - never would’ve expected something like that from him! There was a giggle But, at the same time, too forward of a question when he doesn’t even know if they like him back or not.

“Well, from the sounds of it, they were really giving it some thought after I offered to let them move in with me.” There was another giggle and the clicking of the lavender headed hero’s tongue.

Now, don’t go around making promises you can’t keep. You have orders to keep an eye on them, not make moves! This got a full laugh instead of the usual giggles as Kendo’s cheeks burned from a flustered embarrassment. She hadn’t thought about it like that when she first offered, but there was a flutter in her chest at the thought of the domestic kind of life she could have with one of her best friends. Did she have a crush on them? She wasn’t sure, and didn’t even know where to begin trying to figure that out. Instead, she cleared her throat and decided to pull the topic in a different direction.

“Have you heard word from Monoma yet about..?”

Not yet, but I’m sure it won’t take long for LeMillion and Deku to show back up on the radar. I’m still curious as to what they were needed for over in America. Kendo could practically hear the pout through the phone call, which brought the smile back to her lips and pulled her mind from her previous thoughts.

She looked around her before walking up to the bus stop and sitting down, wrapping her arms around her bag to keep it close to her chest while she swung her legs. She got an odd fulfilled sensation whenever her feet would scrape against the concrete beneath her.

“I’m sure they’ll tell us all about it when they come home - if it wasn’t too confidential at least.” Nejire-Chan hummed in agreement. As she heard the other hero take a breath to begin speaking again, there was a soft voice on the other end catching her attention. Nejire pardoned herself for a moment and lowered the phone just enough to muffle the conversation, though Kendo could still hear it relatively well. Just as she’d been told before, it was about those villains she had to help get put into the system.

At least she hadn’t needed to tell them a lie when she had to leave, now that she thought about it.

Hey, I need to talk to you later. Let me know when you make it in! As she was hanging up, Nejire’s voice could be heard instructing the sidekick on what they should do in regards to whatever the question was they had asked.

Pulling the phone fully from her ear, she glanced around the bus stop and down both ways of the street for any sign of the bus before looking back down at her phone to scroll through her camera roll on a whim, also because she figured it was better than pulling a book up and getting sucked into the story while she was supposed to be at least somewhat focused on watching for when the bus came.

It felt like so long since any of them were in UA, and she was glad she was able to get so many memories saved into her phone during their time… it also felt a little weird that, now that she was thinking about it, that she managed to still have the same phone that she had all through school. Just that responsible with it, she supposed.

Scrolling through, there were plenty of pictures of Class B - a decent chunk  of which were just evidence  of times when Tetsutetsu and Monoma would steal her phone for impromptu photo sessions with the rest of the class. The memories made her eyes roll with a fond smile on her lips; she hadn’t heard much from Tetsu in a while, but that was to be expected when he was constantly on the job with Kirishima. Meanwhile, it was nearly impossible for her to get away from…

She blinked in surprise, opening one photo she had no recollection of finding before now. It was a selfie of Monoma and Tetsu on either side of… them. All three of them were smiling wide, as though laughing about something, and Monoma actually, genuinely, looked happier than she had ever really seen him before. Her smile came back, fonder than before, and her cheeks flushed a soft pink. For all the trouble he caused them, she really couldn’t imagine not having him as a friend. Any of them, really. She cleared her throat and put her phone down to keep herself from going emotionally overboard from the nostalgia, and just in time for the bus to arrive as well.

✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩

The rush of the air outside the airplane cabin was calming, though his leg continued to jitter as he watched the clouds pass by. He was eager to get home and sleep in his own bed, patrol his own streets… see his friends. Needless to say, he was homesick, but he was on the track back home so it wasn’t too bad anymore. It had been months since they were last in Japan, and as much as he loved being over in America to learn and do some network connecting, he was more than ready to be back. Not to mention he was ready to have authentic Japanese  food again from his favorite restaurants . Maybe he could drop by his mom’s place and get something homemade…

“You’re looking a lot better there, Deku!” The green haired man blinked and looked up at his traveling companion, his smile brighter than the sun - as per usual. Deku returned the smile, though a softer version, and nodded.

“I’m excited to be back home. I wonder how everyone’s doing.” He turned back to the window as Mirio sat across from him and looked out his own window. One of the perks of being a top five pro hero: getting to take a private plane instead of flying commercial - not that there was anything wrong with it! He just… wasn’t comfortable with tight spaces with very little options for maneuverability.

“I’m sure they’re doing just fine, though I’m also sure you knew that.” Mirio chuckled and turned his attention to Deku, “Especially with how you’ve been constantly exchanging emails with almost everyone during our time abroad.” Deku laughed and rubbed the back of his head. It was hard not to constantly be checking for new messages during their away time. Was that clingy of him? He didn’t really think so, and he was pretty sure someone would’ve told him to chill out with the instant replies. Even Bakugo hadn’t told him off about how quick he was to respond, which was a little bit of a surprise.

“Fair. How has Suneater and Nejire-Chan been, by the way? I know you’ve been keeping up with them.” Deku turned from the window and looked at Mirio, who he was surprised to see had a conspiratorial  smile and was raising his eyebrows up and down.

“Nejire told me Tamaki has a crush on one of his sidekicks!” The blonde was moving to pull out his phone to flip through his messages while Deku tried to pick up his jaw from the floor.

“That’s great! Who is it?” Mirio held his phone out to him. On the screen was a picture of Tamaki and a hero dressed in a black and white suit with white owl wings.

“She hasn’t given me their name yet, wanting me to introduce myself to them in person first so I don’t spook them or let on that they were talked about behind their back. Not that talking about a friend’s crush is all that unusual.” Mirio chuckled and shrugged as Deku handed back the phone. He smiled and nodded.

“It would probably be odd if you called them out by name without them having met you before.”

The two continued to talk, from the mystery hero to how the agencies were doing and the crime rates that they’ve been hearing about. Not to mention going over profits from their side hustle and how things were going on that front… though, it was a little hard to focus on the rest of it when the hero Tamiki was pictured with kept slipping into his thoughts.

He would probably have to go with Mirio to greet them when they landed…

[unknowntoyou2205]

Make it to Christmas 1/3

Info: Christmas for the Shelby clan were never special, but this year seems t be the worst as y/n, the youngest, has been diagnosed with the illness that takes many away.

Set in season 1

Masterlist

All was quiet in the Shelby household, all were asleep bar Tommy who sat in his office working on some papers that were due. His thoughts were stalled as he hears movement around the halls upstairs and a door slamming against a wall before sounds of chocking, causing him to sigh and move to stand up, knowing who it was.

Y/n Shelby had been sick for the last five days, and it seemed to be getting progressively worse. For an eleven year old her energy had severely deteriorated and anything she ate always came back up, that was if she ate anything at all. She spent majority of her time in bed, sleeping most of the day.

Tommy sighs as he makes his way up the stairs to check on his sister. Arriving at the bathroom door he seen Polly sitting on her knees beside the young girl, holding her hair back and rubbing her back in comfort, muttering kind words as her youngest niece struggled to keep anything down. Hearing noise, Polly looked up to see Tommy standing in the doorway, who glanced at his oungest sibling before looking at Polly.

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

“It’s been five days Pol, something ain’t right.” Tommy stated, not liking his sister being sick.

“I know that Thomas, hardly think this is normal.” Polly snapped at her nephew, worry get best of her.

“Pol.” Tommy warned, moving his head to y/n, saying not to stress her out.

“Tommy.” Y/n whined after she finished heaving, hearing her older brother and wanting his comfort.

“Hey there little angel, still not feeling great aye?” He asked, causing Polly to glare at him.

“I’m tired, and sore and icky. I don’t like it, I want it to end, I want to get better.” She whined as she coughed, bringing her hands up as an indication for Tommy to lift her.

“I can imagine that it isn’t pleasant, but you will get better. Why don’t you and aunt Pol go to the doctors today, he can give you something to make you feel better, how’s that for ya?” Tommy asked, picking up his sister despite Polly’s protests and grabbing a rag from the bathroom sink, wetting it and wiping her face gently with it.

“What’s the doctor going to do for her, she has the stomach bug that’s all. Nothing rest can’t fix.” Polly stated, not liking the idea of going to the doctor only to be told the girl needs rest.

“If it was a stomach bug I’m pretty sure it would’ve gone by now. Just bring her Polly, all they can say is that there isn’t anything wrong.” Tommy stated, allowing y/n to place her head on his shoulder, her eyes closing with tiredness once again.

“I swear Tommy she has you wrapped around her finger.” Polly stated wit ha shake of her head.

“Her health is important Polly, I thought you prioritized that.” Tommy stated before moving out of the bathroom and heading to put his sister down for bed once again, kissing her head before leaving.

"Lord, watch over y/n and I pray that she get's over this bug amen." Polly prayed before heading back to bed.

Next morning, y/n and Polly sat around the kitchen table, waiting for Tommy to return with the doctor. Y/n sat sluggish in her chair, appearing to be struggling to keep herself up right as she lay her head on her arms which were crossed on the table. In her hand was her Christmas teddy that she always had on her from the moment it hit December 1st, being the teddy that John had given her shortly after returning from the war.

Y/n loved Christmas, always had from the moment she understand what Christmas was about. She loved to decorate the house in the little amount of decorations the Shelby family had. The Shelby's were never really into doing Christmas, seeing it as another day, and if it wasn't for y/n they probably wouldn't even celebrate Christmas.

Polly looked away from her niece as the door was heard opening, and stands up when she sees Tommy walk in with the doctor behind him. Seeing her looking at him, Tommy nods at her before moving towards his sister, crouching beside her and placing a hand on her back to try wake her up a bit, only for her to whine, feeling discomfort from touch and moving away from her brother. Tommy frowning and looked at Polly, both knowing it was strange for the youngest Shelby to deny affection.

The doctor moves towards y/n who looks up in confusion, eyes beady due to tiredness. Seeing an unfamiliar face, she frowns and looks at Polly before moving hands, wanting to be picked up. Polly clicked her tongue in frustration, shaking her head in disapproval at her niece, causing y/n to whine again, not liking her aunt’s reluctance to pick her up

“Y/n the doctors here.” Polly stated, glancing at the doctor as he watched how the youngest Shelby reacted against her brothers contact.

“I’ll leave you too it.” Tommy stated ,clearing his throat and moving to his office, closing door tightly.

Y/n sighs before groaning in discomfort as she wiggled in her seat. The doctor took this as a sign that the young girl was ready and made his way over to her. Seeing y/n's eyes flutter with tiredness the man sighed kindly and began working quickly to prevent further discomfort for the girl. He checked her temperature, back of the throat, her walking abilities and a urine sample. At the end y/n was nearly falling asleep, causing the doctor to become concerned.

“Y/n, the doctor is here to look over you, will you be good for him and let him do his work.” Polly instructed to young girl, knowing this could go one of two ways.

“I want Tommy.” Y/n stated tiredly, her voice ruff after the severe coughing episode she had earlier.

“I’m sure Tommy will come back when it’s over, now come on, be a big girl now.” Polly stated with a bit of roughness, wanting this to be over with.

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

“Does she always appear tired.” He asked Polly, who stood in the corner of the kitchen out of the way.

“Most days, especially after any vomiting episodes.” Polly stated, sounding as if she knew what it was her niece had.

“And her temperature, she appears to have a fever, how long has that been going on.”

“Around five days, she always gains a fever when she’s sick.”

“And you say she’s been vomiting for nearly a week?”

“Like I said doctor it’s just the stomach bug, all children get it. They lose their appetite, have aches and pains, get sick, rise a fever, and then it runs its course. Tommy’s worrying for nothing.”

“Actually Mister Shelby has every right to be worried. Because young y/n here doesn’t have the stomach bug. A stomach bug wouldn’t last as long as it has, at least not as severe. With her fever, redness of the throat likely caused by her abrupt coughing episodes and vomiting as well as the aches and pains you say she’s been complaining about, young y/n is suffering from more than just the stomach bug, or any common illness for that matter.” The doctor stated, pointing out all the symptoms.

“Well, what is it then?”

"I'm afraid young y/n Shelby here, has the Spanish flu." The doctor stated causing Polly to look at him in horror.

Each of the Shelby siblings didn't know what to say, their baby sister had caught the illness that majority of people died from if caught. Arthur stared ahead, not knowing what to think, John looked down, regretting the joke he made and feeling fear for his baby sister, Ada tried to hold back tears while Finn allowed the tears to fall, not wanting his twin to go. Tommy stood frozen, refusing to look at anyone as he tried to process the news his aunt just said. Y/n was the Shelby's little angel, from the moment she was born she was their light, the thing that helped the brothers when they returned from war. Without her it would become darkness.

“Polly, what’s going on, why did you call a family meeting?” Ada asked, watching her aunt in confusion as the woman paced around the floor, worry clear on her face.

After the doctor had diagnosed the youngest Shelby- he had warned Polly of the likelihood of her getting worse instead of better- though poor Polly knew this as not many people were known to survive around the town if they caught the lethal disease, with the majority of them dying weeks after their diagnoses- with how y/n’s little body was reacting to the disease it was likely to take it’s toll on the youngest Shelby’s body quickly, meaning she likely wouldn’t make it to the end of the year- hence why she was sent to bed before her siblings were called to hear the news.

“Right Pol, what is it? What’s so important that you had to call us all here aye?” Tommy asked, barging through the front door and stalking towards the kitchen table.

“I need everyone to keep a clear head and remain quiet as I tell you this alright. Y/n’s in bed and needs her rest.” Polly stated, not wanting to wake y/n up.

“Bloody hell Pol your talking as if someone’s dead.” John stated, shaking his head slightly at the dramatics of the situation.

“Pol, what is it? What did the doctor say?” Tommy asked, seeing the seriousness in Polly’s face.

“Y/n’s sick, really sick.” Polly started, looking at each Shelby sibling before continuing, “And I don’t want any of you to start worrying alright, because it won’t make it any easier.”

“Pol, what’s wrong with our y/n?” Arthur asked, not liking the way Polly was talking.

“Y/n has the Spanish flu. The doctor said with her symptoms it’s likely she’s been infected for a while.” Polly stated, waiting to hear the reaction.

“But she seemed fine last week.” Finn stated, looking at his aunt in confusion.

“The doctor said it will get worse, and there is a chance.” Polly stopped, wanting to get control of her emotions before continuing, “There is a chance that she may not survive this. Her bodies not able to keep up with it.” Polly looked down as silence fell around them.

Polly sighs, knowing the Shelby stubbornness was strong when it came to little y/n. She also knew that this would break the family, regardless of the outcome. And all Polly could do was pray, and hope, that y/n would at least make it to Christmas, her favorite time of year.

“Is she asleep?” Tommy asked, moving towards the stairs.

“Yes, and I don’t want anyone going into her. Don’t need anyone else catching it.” Polly stated forcibly, moving towards Tommy as he scoffed.

“You expect us to not be there for our sister when she’s ill, you clearly don’t know us Polly.” Tommy stated harshly.

“we’re not leaving her Pol, she needs us. And if she doesn’t make it we need her too.” Finn stated, sniffling from the tears.

[a-world-with0ut-dr34ms]

Well I Wonder

From Control - Full Story in Progress on AO3!

Ghost x Reader x Graves

Summary: Ghost begins to warm up to you -- however slowly -- to the unknown dismay of your commander.

No Explicit Warnings

Word Count: 5k

Tags: fluff, subtle flirting, bandaging wounds, banter, bonding, hints of jealousy, hints of growing feelings, slow burn, some swearing

Part One | Two | Three | Four Masterlist

Author's Note: Ok… I'm not a military expert or a hacker, so if I'm describing stuff wrong, you know now (*c * ). This one's more plot heavy, 'cause I'm trying to set stuff up for the next couple chapters.

More of that slow burn stuff. I'm trying to flesh out the reader's relationship with Ghost before I get to the real stuff, so it's just a lot of subtle flirting and bonding. Enjoy~

...

Chapter Five - Well I Wonder

Moments Earlier...

“I’m a big girl, Commander,” you say to him. “There's nothing you need to worry about. Plus, you’ve got me all excited for those drinks later.”

Graves watches you wave to him from outside the helo, smiling as you often did. He looks to you until the helo doors close shut, and that heavy motion of the aircraft lifts him back into the air. Everything is red again, and the metal walls rumble. The thought of you lingered.

“Do you think those two’ll get along?”

Soap’s voice pulls Graves' focus back over to the Sergeant. The 141 soldier sat adjacent to him -- beside the other members of Shadow Company.

He had that placid look on his face again, as if this were a road trip. If Graves didn’t know the man, he’d almost mistake Soap for a rookie, with his whole star-eyed look and happy-go-lucky attitude. A part of him wondered if it was an act; though, it couldn’t be. The man was merely a chatty sort, just personable with those he worked with. And it’s not to say Graves doesn’t like the man. Soap seemed like a good guy, but good men make for righteous enemies in times of moral ambiguity.

“That woman could make friends with the devil himself, if they ever met,” Graves says.

Soap chuckles. “You two seem close.”

Oh? Graves thought to himself. That raises an eyebrow. 

Well shit, it seems Soap wasn’t as dense as he'd thought. One look and the commander could tell Soap’s comment had no real merit to it. Comments like that could be dangerous however, so Graves acts accordingly. Amiable.

“Songbird’s one of my best,” he tells him.

There was no point in hiding that he was close with you; he’ll gladly set that straight too. It wasn’t like he had to go into detail about your… intimate activities. Knowing when to tell the truth and when to lie was a valuable skill to have in this field, and he’s learned the hard way enough times to know that surface level truths make for the best cover.

Anything more is need-to-know.

“She’s been with the company for a while now,” Graves continues. “I wouldn’t trade her for anyone.”

“I like her,” Soap admits. “She seems like a good person.”

Graves can’t help but chuckle at that. The way you interacted with 141 earlier, it was as though you’ve been acquainted with them for years now. He had told you before the mission that killing with kindness was your specialty, though seeing your work firsthand now was rather impressive. Your charms surely were a foe to be reckoned with. He had to admit it. 

And you thought Graves was the chameleon; indeed, it takes one to know one.

'It worked on you.'

You had said that to him earlier. Is that what this is? He hadn’t quite known what to say when he first heard it. Frankly, he doesn’t know now why he keeps thinking about it, why it seems to matter.

“Yeah,” his voice trails. “She's somethin’ alright.”

…

Graves set the last of the C-4 onto the side of one of the trees. Once the bomb was secure, he regrouped with Soap, who’d just placed a few in the area as well. The rest of Shadow Company kept watch in the treelines, making sure things don’t pop off too early. With luck, the noise here will create enough commotion for you and Ghost to slip in unnoticed.

If not though, well, he had plenty more C-4, and these woods were plenty large.

Graves turned to Soap, checking with him a final time before turning on his comms.

“Canary, this is Shadow-1 do you copy?”

“Shadow-1, this Canary. I read you.”

Hearing your voice never failed to relieve him.

“We’ve landed at the LZ. Preparing to launch the signal. Be ready.”

“Copy that.”

Graves signals for the group to head back deeper into the woods, so not to get caught in the blast. They take cover within the trees, using the night to their advantage. With the detonator gripped firmly in his hand, the commander speaks to the group.

“Alright boys, let’s get this done,” he says. “Detonating in three, two, one…”

The explosion was quick and sharp, spanning a few yards and knocking down a few trees. A small fire began to stoke, nothing that would pose a threat to the larger parts of the woods, but certainly noticeable in the pitch black. 

The sound of panicking AQ forces erupted in the distance. Just as planned.

“OK, time to hustle,” Graves ordered. “Let’s move out!”

The flames grew in the treeline, embers cracking into the sky like the neighboring stars, as the smell of burning wood began to cloud the air.

So ends the easy part of the mission.

…

A bomb.

The signal was a bomb. Figures.

“Well you wanted it loud,” Ghost said.

Indeed you did say that. Though, something tells you Graves would have done that regardless as to whether or not you asked for it. “Leave it to the commander to make a show out of things,” you comment.

“Time to move. Songbird, on me.”

Canary. You correct him in your head. You'd need to talk to Graves about it later; you didn’t need 141 calling you his pet names now.

You make your way to the edge of the cliffside, as you both equip your harnesses and prepare to scale down. Once the rope was secure, you take the plunge off the ledge, and let gravity do its work. The moon bobs above your head as you glide down, looming over you like a giant's eye.

Trained hands hold onto the rope, legs kicking off the rigid rock of the cliffside. The journey to the surface is mostly done in silence, both you and Ghost no longer thinking of anything other than the task at hand. You move robotically, on the same page with one another without having to say a word. 

When you’ve reached the bottom, you both take cover in the nearby bushes, just a few yards away from the east entrance. This close, you see two guards still posted by the gate, shifting about nervously as they watch their comrades run about the compound, shouting orders and trying to assess the situation.

A gruff grumble comes from your right. Ghost mumbles to himself, thinking out loud. “If we kill ‘em it’ll tip off the others, even if we hide the bodies.”

“Why not sneak in then?”

Ghost looks over to you. “I’m up for that.”

“I thought you’d be,” you say. “Any suggestions?”

“Let’s not overcomplicate this.”

Ghost ducks down and grabs a nearby rock. Immediately you knew where he was going with this. You two get low and weave through the trees and bushes, getting as close to the east gate as you could while being concealed. 

The walls around the compound were tall; well set-up, but nowhere near as secure as an ordinary base. Once the guards were distracted, you'd need to round the corner as soon as you walked through the gate. Ghost lifts the rock high above his head and chucks it across the way. The rock goes high enough above the guards heads to not be seen by them, as it collides against the wall to the right of them.

The moment they take their eyes away, Ghost and you rush through the gate, staying to the edge of the walls as you curve and make your way inside the compound. 

The whole time you moved, you knowingly observed the lieutenant, seeing how he worked. The man moved like a predator, all his movements premeditated down to the last step. He was fast too. Thoughts stayed in his mind for a matter of seconds before he's found a way to implement them into action, almost always flawlessly. Surely from years of practice.

In some ways he reminded you of Graves.

You both move from the gate, running in between two small buildings, as the night provides you cover. Most of the buildings looked to be abandoned stores and offices converted into a small outpost of sorts. From how scarce the personnel is here, it's clear this spot wasn't meant to be one of their normal hubs. They've got something specific going on here. 

All you needed to do now was locate Site Delta.

Ghost leaned into you, his voice so low and gruff you had to lean in yourself to hear him speak. 

"Stick to the walls."

You nod.

Ghost keeps close to you, making sure that you're right behind him, without ever having to look back. It was almost like a sixth sense. And you instinctively stay near him as well, not wanting to lose him in the chaos.

Your bodies trace the walls of these buildings, pausing abruptly when a group of soldiers ran by. You'd practically bumped into Ghost, had he not put his arm out to stop you. He kept his arm extended, almost as though to shield you with his own body. Rather chivalrous of him. But he made no comment on it. No fuss. He only does what's instinctive.

The soldiers scattered about the base like chickens with their heads cut off. It's safe to say that that explosion had them spiraling. Whether or not that was a good thing though, you weren't sure. Once they'd cleared up, you and Ghost move on.

You reach the corner of another wall, peaking over the edge with the lieutenant. Your eyes land on a small, one story building composed of concrete. The one with all the wires and satellite dishes sticking out of it. Site Delta.

"Shadow-1," Ghost spoke. "We're in the compound. Got visual on the site."

"Copy that," Graves said. "Make it quick. AQ is just reaching the blast area now. We've set more charges in the perimeter but I'd say y'all've got 20 minutes before they return."

"Rog'. Preparing to breach the site now."

You both cross over to Site Delta, pressing your backs to its walls as you slowly made your way around. There are no windows, no signs, just empty gray walls, before you eventually come across a door. A locked door. But penetrable.

"We'll need something to pry it open with," he said. 

You quickly observe the lock. It was a heftier one, but not anything high end. The right pair of hands could get that open, and you were just the person for the job.

"I got this."

You kneel in front of it, digging in your hair as you retrieve a bobby pin. You take your knife from its holster and begin fumbling around with the lock. In the meantime, you feel Ghost watching over you, keeping an eye on the perimeter.

You begin hearing shouts in the distance. A group of soldiers from the sound of it.

"We need to get in fast," Ghost states.

"I'm working on it," you say. And right on time, you hear the lock finally click open, the door slowly opening. "There!"

Ghost's large arm reaches over your head to take the door in his hand, as he holds it open for you. He says nothing, but looks down at you, waiting for you to enter.

You look up at him rather silly. "Lady's first, right?"

"Get inside, woman."

The monotone of his words never failed to bring a laugh out of you, though you kept quiet as you entered the site.

The place was not large at all. The interior was as gray as the exterior, as fluorescent lights buzz overhead obnoxiously. You remove your night vision goggles once inside, though it was still dimly lit. The place was set up almost like some sort of underground bunker -- complete with dingy furniture, shelves, all the works. And the room was clearly lived in too, if the smelt meant anything. You half expected to see someone inside. But the place was vacant, both of humans, and of any terminals.

"This can't be all that's in here," you say. 

Ghost immediately begins looking through the room, shoving furniture about and making quick checks at the front entrance. "Look for hidden doors," he said. "We've got fifteen minutes to find where those wires are leading, or the mission's a bust."

You join him in redecorating the room, checking for all the obvious places a hidden door could be. It wasn't underneath the rug. Nor was it behind any of the beds. As you come across a large, empty bookshelf, you feel a small breeze hit you, causing you to pause.

Upon further examination, the shelf seemed out of place, unnatural looking, having no books on it. As you step closer, you hear the faint sound of a machine humming. Running computers maybe?

"Ghost," you wave for him. "Come check this out."

The lieutenant approaches, staring at the bookshelf as curious as you were a moment ago. He wastes no time in shoving it to the side. You would have asked if he needed help, but he did so with ease, his large frame not only for show it seems.

You also just noticed how nice his arms looked when he took hold of the bookshelf. His grip was firm and unmoving, a lot like his personality.

It appears your intuition was correct, because behind the shelf was indeed a hidden door. You push it open, seeing a short stairwell leading down into a dark basement, where lights pool out from the end of the corridor. Ominous, but exactly what you’ve been looking for.

"Nice work," Ghost says.

"I live to serve," you respond.

"Good," he says. "Take point. I'll cover."

You lead the way in, keeping your gun lifted and ready to fire at the first thing that moved in front of it. Each step you take on your descent down grows colder, the wooden floorboards just barely creaking. Ghost stays close, his gun pointed over your shoulder, as he listens with you.

As you draw near the bottom, it opens into another room, only this time it's full of what you expected to see. Crates on crates of guns, and computer terminals, the room littered with a variety of cables and wires. Some kind of database from the looks of it, if not some place they were using for communications as well..

What you did not see was the butt of a rifle that came crashing into the side of your skull seconds later. 

The end of the weapon ripples against the left side of your head, causing you to lose your footing and fall to the ground. You black out for a split second, unconsciously doing what you can to catch yourself on the ground. When you came to, you saw the culprit responsible -- an AQ soldier who must have heard you two breaching in.

You see the barrel of his rifle take aim at you.

You feel for your own gun, only to see it had slid away from you when you'd fallen.

Fuck.

Just then, you watch Ghost barge into the basement like a large beast. You’re not sure when the lieutenant pulled his knife out, though there was no mistaking it when he drove the blade into the AQ soldier’s throat. Barbarically. The AQ soldier looked as though he hadn’t even processed what had happened to him yet; he never stood a chance.

Ghost grabs hold of the man, keeping his blade lodged in his neck, as blood pools over his glove-covered hands, dripping onto the floor. The lieutenant drags the AQ soldier’s body and throws him on the other side of the crates, regardless of whether or not the man was actually dead yet. But as his body fell to the ground, he didn’t stand back up.

That takes care of that then; it even hides the body.

“Clear,” Ghost calls out.

Once the immediate danger is gone, your head promptly sends a sharp throbbing pain above your left brow where you’d been hit. You reach up to touch the injured area, only to feel a cool, wet substance stain your fingers. You bring your hand in front of you and see the blood. It begins to pool lightly, getting caught in your eyebrow.

“You alright?” Ghost asks.

Your brain certainly did not appreciate being rocked in your skull like it had, but you still felt put together, given the circumstances. You bring yourself back to your feet and roughly wipe the blood from your brow, unintentionally smearing it. “I’ve had hangovers worse than this,” you joke.

“Be more careful next time,” Ghost chided.

Fair enough.

You rush over to the terminal, taking a good look at everything you had going on here. Yeah, you could work with this. This wasn’t anything you haven’t seen before. You quickly pull off your pack and begin retrieving everything you need to scan through their systems and store it for later. 

As you get to work, Ghost stands guard by the entrance. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

You press a few keys on the keyboard and observe a few things pop up on the screen -- advanced firewalls their systems have to counter data breaches. Easy enough to bypass. In a matter of minutes you were scanning through all their files and data banks; soon there wouldn’t be a megabyte amount of encrypted files you haven’t downloaded.

Work like this was delicate though. It required absolute precision. One wrong move could lock you out and blow your cover. Though you were confident in your abilities. 

In a way you had Graves to thank for that. The man knew his way around a network like he’d been bred for it. You couldn't ask for a better teacher.

“Baby,” you say. “I’m a tech guru with this shit.” 

“I’ll take your word for it,” Ghost comments. 

“Graves,” you say into your comms. “I’m breaching their network now. Should have a full scan of everything in four minutes.”

“Atta girl!” 

You admit, his praise gave you butterflies. You don’t feel ashamed smiling to yourself, though you nearly miss what he’s saying, with your heart beating in your ears and all.

“We’re making our way to the rendezvous point. I’ll set off one more diversion; that should keep them away long enough for your escape.”

“Copy that, Commander.”

“We’ll see you at the rendezvous point. Just holler if you need me. Graves, out.”

More blood trickles from your cut now, pooling straight into the creases of your eye. You lift your hand and continue to rub the blood away, trying not to let it take your attention from what your doing. But rubbing only seems to make the blood come out more profusely.

“Shit,” you swear to yourself. 

“What is it?” Ghost asks. He lingers near the doorway, your back turned to him.

“It’s nothing,” you say.

You hear Ghost’s footsteps approach, as you feel his large presence stop just within your bloodied peripheral. Towering over you. If his eyes were hands, he would have explored your entire form with them. You find it difficult to meet his gaze, so you opt for the screen in front of you instead.

“You’ve any bandages?” he asked.

“In my pack,” you say.

“You should handle that then.”

“My hands are sort of busy right now,” you say. “Unless you want to do it.”

You meant it more to be a smartass than a serious proposal. Sure the blood was in your eye and it was annoying the shit out of you, but it wasn’t world ending. However, you suddenly hear him unzipping your pack, his crude hands digging inside earnestly.

He called your bluff.

“I was only kidding,” you tell him. “Though I appreciate the gesture.”

“You’ll want both your eyes, lieutenant,” he said.

Ghost stands awkwardly at your side, awaiting your official approval before moving in to clean your wound. You half expected him to just do it with no regard, seeing as he's the practical one between you two. But he halts, not wanting to overstep. You take note of that.

“I’m not stopping you," you say.

Ghost kneels down so that he’s leveled to your height, while your head remains turned to the computer screen, your hands glued to the keyboard. You feel him take hold of your chin, propping your head up a bit. His touch is reserved, these small movements the most cautious you've seen him all night, which said a lot. He takes the alcohol soaked gauze and begins to clean your wound.

You flinched at the sting, settling into his hand as he continued to work. He was efficient, making sure not to take too long. He pressed the gauze gently against your cheek, as he cleans the blood from you. Once he’d finished, he grabs a bandage and rips it open, laying it over your cut.

You two don’t speak the entire interaction.

What went on in his mind, you wondered. He must find you a pretty lousy soldier, getting taken down like that. And now he's having tend to you because you bleed easy. You admit, it made you feel a little pathetic.

You think out loud to yourself, having meant it for your ears as much as his. “I’m not normally this inept.”

You feel Ghost take his thumb and smooth out the bandage over your cut. Though it hurt, his attempts to make sure you were secure felt incredibly genuine. He truly was a man of subtlety.

“Nobody’s perfect, Songbird,” he said.

“It’s Canary.”

He pauses.

“I rest my case.”

Ghost steps away from you once he’s finished, taking his rifle back in his hand and returning to the door. You have a moment with yourself in the meantime, the disillusionment settling in. You hadn’t planned on being a burden tonight. Yet strangely enough, Ghost’s words seemed to help, if only a little.

“Thank you,” you tell him.

Ghost is quiet for a moment, before you hear him say casually, “I told the commander I’d get you back in one piece.”

“Well you know I couldn’t make that easy for you,” you joke.

“Evidently not.”

You laugh under your breath.

The device you’d stuck into the terminal makes an affirming beep, letting you know that the scans were complete. You couldn’t wait to get out of here.

“It’s done,” you tell Ghost. “Let’s head out.”

…

The moon had nearly gone, as the sky became a soft, dark shade of orange and blue, the stars seldom remaining. The trees are lulled by the rising dusk, birds breaking the silence of the woods with their scarce melodies. The further you and Ghost traverse up this hill, the more the chirping drowns out the distant commotion from the compound behind you.

Sneaking out was relatively easy, thanks to the second set of bombs Graves detonated. Even if they find the body, they’ll have no clue of knowing of your involvement. The mission was a success, so long as Laswell’s able to get anything out of this data you swiped.

Of course, she’ll get this after you’ve taken a look for yourself. You didn’t need Laswell finding anything she didn’t need to know.

The stress you felt was undefinable. Your head was fucking killing you.

“How much further from the rendezvous point?” you ask.

“About a mile.”

You could make that.

You stay a few feet behind Ghost, practically following the man’s shadow as he led you forward. After your mission today, you felt good about working with him, even as you were disappointed in your own performance.

You kept thinking about that small moment you two had.

The throbbing in your head just did not seem to want to end. You were practically fantasizing downing a bottle of painkillers; you couldn’t wait to crash back into bed as well. You just needed this mile to hurry up so you could get back on the helo and get out of here.

You bring your eyes back to the rear side of Ghost again. The man was surely task-focused, you’ll give him that. Just from how laboriously he moved, you imagined he could probably go another day or two out here with nothing but his pack alone. Some men were just built different.

“You know,” you speak suddenly. “I think I know what music you like.”

“What then?” he asks, in a mood to be humored it seems.

“Folk music,” you say.

“Is that right?”

“Mhm,” you nod to yourself. “You seem like someone who likes a soothing voice with a soft guitar.”

“That does sound nice.”

“Am I right then?”

“Negative.”

You can’t help but blow raspberries to yourself. You were sure you had him pegged there for a second. You look down to your feet and think to yourself for a moment. “Would you tell me the truth if I was?”

“No.”

“I think you would”

“I don’t.”

You chuckle to yourself and continue to follow him through the woods. You honestly felt like you could go back-and-forth with him all day, if you didn’t feel so much like the gnat in his ear when you did it. If he were easier to read, you’d feel more confident in your behavior. But if anything, you’ve felt you’ve been more bare to him tonight than he ever let slip to you.

“Is there a reason you keep asking so many questions?”

His words catches you off guard. It also gives you more information than you believe he realized. Perfect. You could lie and say something stupid for your answer; deflect his question like he liked doing with yours, or tell him you had no reason for it.

You settle for something more honest.

“I just wanted to get to know you.”

Ghost grows quiet. Your words seems to be ones he did not expect to hear either; it’s the first time you’ve seen him somewhat at a loss. You imagine others were more interested in talking at him or about him, than talking to want to know him. It isn’t every day someone really takes interest in him, and it shows. Though he does not let the surprise last for very long.

“You're very strange.” Before you could reply to his comment, he starts to speak into his comms again. He probably did so on purpose. “Shadow-1, we’re approaching the rendezvous point. Check your fire.”

“Rog’,” Graves says. “We’ll be on the lookout.”

Ghost looks back at you for the first time since you’ve re-entered the woods. Though it's still fairly dark, you can find his black gaze from a mile away. “I’m not someone you’d want to know,” he said.

“And why is that?” you ask.

“People who do tend to regret it.”

“I’m not most people.”

“I knew there was some reason I said I didn’t dislike you,” he said.

Ghost stops walking suddenly, putting an arm out to stop you behind him. A tendency, it seems. You peek over his shoulder to see what’s brought him to a halt, noticing the helo parked in the distance, along with the rest of your team.

You see Graves and Soap sitting against the helicopter, weapons still at the ready, though they seemed to have the area locked down tight. Upon seeing you two in the distance, you watch both the Sergeant and the Commander wave and make their way to you.

Ah Graves. You hadn’t realized how much you missed him until you saw that charming smile of his grow on his face. He had to have been thinking of you too, from the way he took such strides towards you. Like you’d been apart for years.

“There you two are,” Graves spoke. “How’d it go?”

“I got everything we needed,” you say to him. “We get this to Laswell and it’ll be a job well done.”

“That’s what I’m talking about!” the commander cheers. He looks behind you at Ghost, who’s gone back to keeping his distance from you two. “My lieutenant wasn’t too much trouble was she?” Graves asked.

You wouldn’t blame Ghost for being honest if he was. You didn’t feel like you did much at all this mission, beyond tag alongside the lieutenant and put yourself in harm’s way. You awaited the man’s answer, looking back at him yourself to see if you could get a clue.

What you were met with were a pair of dark eyes looking into yours. Though they were the same eyes as before, they were different as well. Ghost looks to the commander when he speaks.

“You’ve got a good one, Commander.”

You don’t hide your smile. You imagined Ghost was smiling underneath his mask as well. Something told you he was. For a moment you looked at one another and felt validated in his eyes. Words couldn’t begin to describe how gratuitous this felt. It made time stand still.

Graves eyes look to you. He then looks at Ghost, before returning back to you with a more crooked smile this time. He even raises an eyebrow and stands up straight. “I sure know how to pick ‘em,” he comments. And suddenly you’re reminded of everything again. 

“Let’s get out of here,” Graves continues. “I owe you all some drinks now.”

Graves makes his way back to the helo, though you and Ghost linger momentarily. It had only been a few hours tonight that you worked alongside the lieutenant, yet you felt closer now. You felt you could trust him. And you wanted to know what kept him standing here with you, because you were beginning to read him more. He didn’t seem like one to linger, not unless something drove him to do so. Was it you who did?

“Will I see you for drinks later?” you ask him.

“You buyin’ too?” he asks.

“If it means I’ll see you tonight.”

“I might take you up on that then.”

Your lips curve bashfully, eyes still set on Ghost’s, who had not looked from you once since starting again. If the others noticed you two standing by the helo, they did not seem to comment. Or rather you two didn’t care.

You didn't.

“Good.”

...Chapter Six Here!

[munsonownsmyass]

Let's just breathe

Joel Miller x reader

Summary: Still on the road to Jackson, another brush with death makes you realize how you truly feel about your savior.

Warnings: fluff, angst, that smooth voice of Joels should be a warning in itself, fingering, unprotected sex (please wrap it before you tap it irl), creampie.

Authors note: I wanted to make a part two for my Joel fic and what better way then to cramp in a kinktober prompt? Anyways, enjoy. Unbeta'ed and barely edited.

A special shout out to @mindidjarin for awakening my Joel thirst. These wouldn't have happened without you.

The next few days of traveling were hard. If you walked to much, your leg would ache and if you sat too much on the horse, your butt would hurt. Still, Joel thought the latter was for the better, so he often let you sit on Ol’ Beardy while he walked beside the two of you.

As the days progressed, you got to know him better. There were still things he wouldn’t talk about. You could tell by the way he would look to the ground, if you talked to much about family. How he touched his watch and got silent that time you asked if he had any kids.

But even with the wall he still kept up to protect himself, you could feel the guard being let down slowly. You didn’t tear down any walls, but at least you got a few windows to open. Another thing you began to notice already on the second day, was how he smiled more. Whether it was because of you or just that he had some company, you didn’t know. But you certainly hoped it was you.

You felt at ease around him. He was kind, calm and softspoken. But he could turn on a dime and be smart, protective and strong when you faced danger. Always a dreamer at heart, you couldn’t help but think he was meant to save you that day.

On the third day was when the real trouble began. At first it was just a little flutter in your stomach. Caused by laughing too much, you thought. But when it happened again as Joel talked about something as simple as cleaning a gun, your mind started racing.

Didn’t you feel your heart flutter, whenever he called you darling? Wasn’t there a warm feeling spreading whenever he would talk in that low, deep voice of his? You could even swear you had bit your lip one time he let out a ‘fuck’ under his breath, followed by a strained groan.

How could his voice do all that to you? It was just a voice. A deep, smooth voice, almost like velvet, coming from a very handsome man with the most beautiful eyes you’ve-

“You alright there, darlin’?”

You look down to find Joel looking at you, frowning in concern. His hand is resting on your leg, and you hate how flustered it makes you.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You lie with a fake smile, hoping he doesn’t see right through you. “Just a little hungry, maybe.”

Thankfully he doesn’t seem to notice, turning his gaze up the road, looking for a safe place to hide Ol’ Beardy as you search for some food. Most places are picked clean by now, but sometimes you could get lucky. Leaving you with a gun to search through some houses, Joel tries his luck with his bow, hunting a bit.

Roaming through the cabinets, something catches your eye. Looking out, you see Joel sneaking around in the bushes. For a moment you just stand there watching him. How his broad frame moves silently, closing in on the rabbit. The way his arms flex as he pulls back the bowstring, aiming the arrow. How his muscular back dance under his worn shirt.

You drop a can, the noise bringing you back to reality. Okay, girl. You need to get it together. You should focus on gathering food instead of lusting after a man you cant’t have. Well, at least you thought so. There was no way he saw you as more than a friend, right? Well, maybe even friend was a stretch since you barely knew him.

Sighing, you pull yourself away from the window and search through the rest of the cabinets. Your quest is fruitful as you find some cans. Not even caring about the date, you put them in your backpack, cause who could afford to be picky these days?

Suddenly someone pulls you backwards and before you can scream, a huge hand covers your mouth.

“Be quiet.” Joel whispers before removing his hand. When your eyes meet, you see the horror on his face. That’s when you hear it. The unmistakeable sound of a clicker.

You freeze on the spot, blood running cold. Gesturing for you to remain quiet, Joel takes your hand and lead you out of the kitchen. You barely move, afraid to make a sound. Trembling, your breathing comes out in rapid hitches as you try to move.

A pair of hands gently cup your face, forcing you to look up into Joel’s eyes. There are no words, but his eyes says it all; Stay with me, darlin, don’t lose it now. Breathe. Keep looking at me, focus on me and forget everything else.

And you do just that. Focus on those chocolate brown eyes of his, pretending they’re all that exist. Slowly, you make your way out of the kitchen, barely out in the hallway before you hear the clicker get closer. Looking over his shoulder, Joel looks to a closet. It’s not much, but it would have to suffice.

The fit is tight, barely enough room for you both, so you’re pressed up against Joel chest. He closes the door in the last second, the hallway filling with clicking noises. There in the darkness all you hear is the deafening sound of your rapid heartbeat. Almost as if Joel hears it too, his hand once again cups your cheek, his thumb rubbing in soothing circles.

Thankful, you lean into his touch as the minutes tick by. The room feels smaller by the minute, your shared body heat making the close quarters almost unbearable. You know you should be thinking about the clicker just outside the door, but all you can focus on is Joel’s hand on your cheek, the other on the wall behind you. His broad frame caging you in.

You can’t see much in the darkness, but you feel Joel’s eyes on you. Feel how he searches for yours in the darkness. His breath ghost over your skin, his lips mere inches from yours. How easy it would be to just lean forward. How easy it would be to just give in.

In the distance you hear a gun shot. A death sentence for someone else, but it’s your salvation. The clicker moves away, soon leaving the house in silence. Breathing a sigh of relief, Joel touches his forehead to yours with a soft smile.

“We should get away while we can.”

Joel opens the closet, quickly checking if the coast is clear before waving for you to come. Disappointed, you follow. You know your mind should be focusing on surviving, on getting to Jackson alive, but right now you’d give anything to be trapped in that closet with Joel again.

But you still gather your things quickly, following him as he guides you away from the house, away from the gunshot. Eyes and ears on full alert, the two of you run back to Ol’ Beardy as fast as you can. Once there, you get on the horse and ride as far away as possible.

As the sun sets, you finally stop at an abandoned farm. As you set up a makeshift camp in the back of the barn, Joel takes care of Ol’ Beardy. Never once in your life having skinned an animal, Joel preps the food, while you poke at the flames, waiting. Maybe you should learn, one day. Lucas always did it and never once had you thought that one day, he wouldn’t do that anymore.

Catching you looking, Joel pauses, gesturing for you to come closer. “Want me to teach you?”

You scoot over to him, taking the knife. Patiently, he tells you what to do, his smooth voice once again causing you to blush. Not very skilled with the knife, Joel takes your hand in his, guiding you. You sigh, it’s all too much. His calloused hands dwarfing yours, his broad chest pressed against your back. That voice of his engulfing you. He invades all of your senses until there is nothing but him.

“There you go. Well done, darlin’.”

Still trapped in your little daydream, you don’t even notice Joel taking the rabbit from you. You can feel his eyes on you, filled with worry. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Mhmm.” Is all you manage, afraid your voice will betray you if you try to speak. Joel leaves it be, skewering the rabbit on a stick before putting it over the fire.

Later as you lay tossing and turning, you find it hard to find rest. Looking over your shoulder, you see Joel staring at the ceiling, awake too. “Joel?”

“Yeah darlin’?” he drawls, turning to look at you.

“I can’t sleep. Can… Can I come over to you?” your voice timid, expecting a no. But he just extends his arm, fingers motioning for you to come closer. Taking your blanket with you, you crawl over and lay down in Joel’s nook, feeling safe as soon as his arms close around you.

“Thank you. I just… I just didn’t wanna be alone.” You whisper, embarrassed at how it sounds. Looking up, you see a faint smile on Joel’s lips. “I know it’s stupid.”

“It ain’t stupid.” He reassures you, one hand gently caressing your shoulder. “I’m right here and I’m not going anywhere.”

You sigh, nuzzling closer into his nook. For a minute you just lay there in silence, content in each other’s company. Felling your eyelids getting heavy, all you can think about is to fall asleep listening to his voice. “Joel, tell me something.”

“What do you wanna know?”

“Anything. I just wanna hear you talk. I love the sound of your voice.” you say sleepily.

“Do you now?” he chuckles, almost like he already knew that. “Well then. I… I could sing you a song?”

You look at him with a huge grin, surprised. “You can sing?”

“I’m no Eddie Vedder, but someone told me once that I don’t suck, so…” he chuckles, his eyes lighting up at the memory. You want to ask more, but don’t want that beautiful smile of his to go away, so you just lay back down, waiting for him to sing.

Yes I understand

That every life must end

As we sit alone

I know someday we must go

 Oh, I'm a lucky man

To count on both hands

The ones I love

Some folks just have one

Yeah, others they got none

Stay with me

Let's just breathe

He stops, running his hand through his hair, before looking down at you with a smile. “I can’t remember the next part.”

“Practiced on our sins, never gonna let me win.” you say confidently, earning a proud look from Joel. “My dad loved Pearl Jam.”

“Ouch” he feigns being hurt, clutching his chest. Laughing, you put your hand over his, before looking up at him. Still with a huge smile, you don’t think he’s ever looked more beautiful. Before you can stop yourself, you lean in and kiss him softly.

For a moment Joel just stares at you and you’re afraid you took it a step too far. But then he pulls you closer, his hand coming to rest behind your head, gently pulling you closer. When his lips claim yours, it’s gentle at first, almost as if he’s afraid to break you.

He pulls away slightly, breathing already strained. Letting out a nervous chuckle, he looks into your eyes. By now you’ve learned to read what he’s saying, even when he doesn’t speak. Are you sure? Is this really what you want?

“Please Joel.” You beg, your lips capturing his in a passionate kiss. He reaches for the hem of your top, slipping his hand underneath, his touch waking up every nerve ending in your body. As his hand brush against your breast, you moan out his name.

Within no time at all, all your clothes are on the floor. His touch is gentle, yet firm, as he explores every inch of you. His fingers gliding over your skin as if storing you to his memory in case this is the only night he gets with you.

When he moves his hand down to your aching core, he finds you already soaking wet. It doesn’t take long for him to make you fall apart, moaning out his name.

“You sure you want me, darlin’?”

“There’s nothing I want more.”

He pushes you down gently, kissing you softly as he repositions himself between your legs. Just as the tip of his cock is at your entrance, he looks to you a final time for confirmation.

And with a nod, he finally pushes into you. Slowly at first, the stretch of him is delicious as he lets you adjust to his size.

He starts thrusting into you at a slow and steady pace, but soon Joel pushes a little faster, but still very soft. It’s unlike anything you’ve tried before. So caring and tender, whispering small praises in your ear, yet fiery hot as each snap of his hips makes his cock push against that sweet spot inside you.

“Please cum for me.” He begs, snapping his hips harder. A few more drags of his cock is all it takes, before you clamp down on him, screaming out his name as you come undone.

It’s not long before Joel follows, grunting as he fills you with his cum. He thrusts a few more times, riding out his high as he claims your lips in a tender kiss.

His breathing slows and he pops up on one elbow, looking into your eyes. You have a blissful smile on your face, your breathing still heavy. “You okay?”

“Yes.” You answer truthfully, smiling. If anything, your blissed out face must tell him everything he needs to know, cause he returns the smile. Joel leans in and kisses you softly, before laying down on the floor, pulling you into his embrace. You place your head on his shoulder, feeling happier than you have in years.

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