#was gonna go to bed early but i was struck with an intense need to finish this one first. now i can go sleepytime :3

[starmagnets]

sometimes a family is two ex-villains, their kid, and the ghost that lives in (and also is) their home

[4dtk]

Hey! Can I request Frat boy Jaehyun and innocent y/n with strict parents so Jaehyun has to sneak in her window ;)

enjoy bb <3333

it's little suggestive with the words i use, but no nsfw. just an intense make out scene!

“pst!” knock. “oi!” knock.

you were going to kill this man if you weren't so smitten with him.

you're used to the dark already, used to things falling down in the middle of the night as you grope your way through to the window which already suffered a round of broken glass and a sheepish apology from the boy below.

"what do you want?!" you hiss through your teeth, fingers clenching and unclenching on the sill of the window.

you're ready to give him another mouthful of whispered profanities and curses, but your moment of rage is interrupted by a thud downstairs, paired with the shuffling of your parents' slippers against the wooden floor.

you cringe, immediately gesturing to jaehyun that he should hide in the bushes. your heart is pumping, feeling tense all of a sudden when a knock snaps you out of your stupor.

"(y/n)? you okay in there?" the grass below lights up from the switched-on living room light, heaving a quick sigh of relief that jaehyun's already found a hiding spot.

in a rush, you close the window, standing like a deer caught in headlights as the door creaks open.

"you wouldn't happen to have heard something downstairs, would you?" your mom raises an eyebrow at your stiff posture, mouth hanging open to your body blocking the moonlight from seeping in.

"uhh... no. nothing at all," your finger dances along a surface, mimicking how you'd do it to jaehyun's face below bleachers and in janitor closets.

you swallow at it, cowering under your mother's glare until she slowly closes the door. once her footsteps fade, you let out a sigh, instantly turning around to come face to face with jaehyun's knees resting on the flimsy plastic of a windowsill.

you've mastered the skill of stifling your shouts and laughter when you're alone in your room, but this time, jaehyun's features are what catch you off guard, causing you to let out a noise of surprise.

"shut the fuck up and hide under my bed," you prompt, already hearing the familiar set of footsteps and the creak of the wooden floor under your mom's slippers. this time, however, it was your dad that checked up on you.

"you good, honey?" he frowns, thankfully a tad bit more lenient as compared to your mom. you nod, faking a yawn badly before pulling your duvet over your body.

your nods are brief and brisk, want nothing more but to hold the boy below your bed.

"goodnight, (y/n). sleep, you have an early morning tomorrow."

you inwardly groan at the events happening tomorrow, thinking back to the detention that jaehyun managed to get you in. your parents were not too happy, having your clean record stained by a stupid mistake you didn't even admit to your parents.

with a lame excuse, your parents assumed you struck up trouble in class, no less than by a boy and his dirty tricks of making out in every room you could think of.

said boy was peeking out of your bed by then, a cheeky smile spread across his face while he weaves himself out of the space.

"hi-"

his greeting is cut off by the stuffed toy dangling from your grasp, lifted up in warning.

"baby, c'mon, you know it was an accident-" you roll your eyes.

"yeah? how am i going to explain another broken window if you happened to smash it again? my parents are gonna be on my ass even more now that i." smack. "need." smack. "to." smack. "go." smack. "to." smack. "detention!"

steam is coming out of your ears in jaehyun's eyes, but he pays it no mind as he takes your hands into his. the gesture makes you forget your anger just a little, mustering up the best puppy dog eyes he can manage before speaking.

"i'm sorry, (y/n)," jaehyun pouts, voice and words spilling from his lips felt like velvet against your skin. it felt smooth with a bit of raspiness, something you realise only comes out when he's whispering.

you're glad he mostly does it to you.

whether it's behind the school or in the bathroom, his lips that brush over your ears always know what to say, before he leaves your person burning or your body wanting more.

you should be ashamed, with how much jaehyun affects you.

in a blur of passion and need, you mutter out something under your breath; even you can't believe the words that leave your mouth in that moment.

"can we... kiss first...? talk later..." your words are lost in jaehyun's mouth when his mouth meets yours hungrily, shivering from how much your body reacts to him while you press into him.

"babe, wait- wait," he pushes you back reluctantly, "you sure you want this?"

jaehyun asks carefully, and your blissed out face is enough to kiss you again with no room left to breathe. he holds back for your sake.

"my head is telling me no, jung jaehyun. but you drive me crazy," you mumble, playing lazily with the hair on his nape, "but also, let's not go all the way tonight. i'd like to be awake for the detention you got me in."

the other tenses at your mention of detention, but it's clear you're far from furious like before as your smile widens.

jaehyun's laugh sends butterflies through your stomach. he meets you halfway yet again, taking your lips so skillfully you're a little embarrassed at your own experiences.

the first time he had you wrapped around his finger was months ago. in shared breaths, you expressed your lack of lip-locking like you've seen in movies, no doubt questioning whether jaehyun was even the right person to give your first kiss to.

but like always, your body betrays you, reacting like a mimosa to how his hands roamed over your body. you've sworn your first kiss to him when he calls you pretty girl, and when he asks gently if he can kiss you and when he adjusts to your inexperienced movements so fast.

it gives you whiplash how much you're infatuated with him.

you wouldn't call it love just yet, but the intrusive thoughts leave your brain when jaehyun brings you back to the present, tilting his head more and more to get deeper. he prods at your lips with his tongue, desperate to feel all of you as your leg swings over his hips.

jaehyun smiles against your lips at that, and even more when his cold hands sneak under your t-shirt to caress your back.

"you drive me crazy, too, pretty girl," he purrs out the pet name. you suck in a breath as you stare down at his eyes, trained and fixated on you like you to him. tomorrow, you'd deal with everything, from detention to your pushy parents.

for now? well...

"you're stunning." is all he says before your lips connect again.

for now, you should be ashamed, with how much jaehyun affects you, but you can't bring yourself to be when all you know are jaehyun's cherry chapstick lips on yours and his curious hands over your blazing skin.

[hajimewhore]

☾ɴᴇᴋᴏᴍᴀ ꜱʟᴇᴇᴘ ʜᴀʙɪᴛꜱ

➸Part two of Haikyuu boys and their sleep habits ➸gn!Reader, fluff fluff fluff, a lil humor, sleep time💤

[Masterlist] [Karasuno]

✰ Kozume Kenma ➸ Kenma of course games dusk till dawn, but when the two of you started dating he’d set his game aside to curl up with you in bed, until you fell asleep stroking his hair. ➸ Initially, you found it sweet that he’d sacrifice late gaming time to cuddle and fall asleep with you. Until you woke up one night and saw him playing away at his switch, blue light illuminating his intense face in the late hours. ➸ Turns out, he kept whatever game console he’d been playing under his pillow, and waited till you fell asleep to resume gaming. ➸ It’s still sweet that he didn’t want to keep you up or make you worry about his gaming habit, but you still want him to get his sleep. ➸ When you pluck the game from his hands (provided it’s at a good saving point), he jumps and eyes you cautiously. “Get some sleep, Kenma.” ➸ He sighs and nods in agreement, curling back up to you.

✰ Kuroo Tetsurou ➸ The way Kuroo sleeps with pillows mashed on either side of his head is honestly baffling, and you’re genuinely surprised he hasn’t suffocated in his sleep yet. Seriously, who taught this cat to sleep like that? ➸ Though it is how he sleeps the most comfortable, so you let it slide when you spend the night. You get your fair share of pictures, documenting his odd sleep habit for your (Adorable) Photos To Embarrass Kuroo collection. ➸ Kuroo only decides to stop his pillow ear muff sleep method one night when he realizes he can’t see your face when he falls asleep. ➸ It starts genuinely upsetting him because he can’t lean over and peck your nose, or brush your cheek, or tuck your head into his shoulder, he can’t even cuddle you properly! ➸ And your face is definitely a face he desperately wants to kiss with soft and sweet goodnights. He also really wants to wake up in the early morning to your gentle countenance, as you snooze away without a worry (and not wake up to all these damn pillows). ➸ Now when you spend the night, he’s learned to fall asleep without the mess of pillows glued to his head. ➸ Funny enough, he gets roasted more by his friends for not having his iconic bed head than when he has his bed head.

✰ Yaku Morisuke ➸ No way in hell is Yaku gonna be caught being back hugged, or worse, LITTLE SPOONED. ➸ The guy is 5’5” and ALWAYS wants to be the big spoon. He refuses to be the little spoon. ➸ Though, eventually, through trial and tribulation you lowkey train him into loving it... ➸ Every time you hug him from the back, you press a kiss to his cheek and tell him something you love about him. Though initially tense at the action, he of course preens at the attention you’re showering him with and turns to presses kisses all over your face. ➸ He’ll kiss your nose, cheeks, forehead, lips, chin, anything with a surface area on your face, Yaku just loves to reciprocate your affection 10x over. ➸ If he’s had an especially rough practice, you give him a massage before bed, pressing kisses to his back as you lay behind him and wrap your arms around his middle. Yaku gives in with little complaint to being the little spoon, a content smile on his face. ➸ You’re not saying you Pavlov dog trained him or anything, but Yaku does wind up loving being the little spoon a tad more than he did beforehand.

✰ Haiba Lev ➸ Lev isn’t an easy person to sleep with by any means. He’s 6′5″, his long legs take up a lot of space, and he’s a crybaby that always wants to be the little spoon (but is too scared to ask). ➸ He always tends to stretch in his sleep, long limbs somehow growing longer as he nearly pushes you off the bed. In some cases, you actually wind up waking up abruptly on the floor. For this reason alone, you purchased a plush rug for the side you sleep on. ➸ He doesn’t mean to of course, but he sometimes accidentally smacks you in the face when he tosses and turns in his sleep. You’re thankful he doesn’t practice his spikes in his sleep at least, so you make sure to snuggle as close as possible to avoid any sleepy foul play. ➸ Lev steals the covers! With all that leg and height, he really can’t help it if he ends up pulling the sheets off of you in the night, curling up comfortably in his makeshift cocoon. ➸ You’ve learned he’s a heavy sleeper though, so if you wake up with a chill you don’t hesitate to steal back your share of the sheets. After comfortably situated, you warm up again by wrapping your arms around his middle (knowing in the morning he’ll wake up eagerly to being your little spoon!)

✰ Yamamoto Taketora ➸ He always wants to watch a movie before going to bed. He’ll sling his arm around your shoulder, and get nice and cozy as you set up your laptop. You lean into him comfortably, and lay back in the pillows to find something trending on Netflix to watch. ➸ As it turns out, he never finishes anything you watch, he always falls into a dead asleep within the first 15 minutes. You were surprised the first time you heard his soft snoring next to you, and chalked it up to a long and tiring day. ➸ Except, it happens every night. You’ve started to realize it’s not so much that he wants to watch a movie, it’s that he wants to fall asleep to a movie. ➸ Yamamoto is definitely the type to need background noise to fall asleep, always twisting and turning tirelessly if there’s too much empty noise. ➸ You love watching movies together with him though, so you learned to put on movies you don’t plan on finishing together. ➸ It’s cute seeing how invested he is to start. Yamamoto is always eager to spend more time with you and end your night together, but he inevitably starts nodding off with his head slumping on top of yours. ➸ You close the lap top each time, and shimmy yourselves into the covers, completely content with the routine you’ve found.

✰ Kai Nobuyuki ➸ He snores, so, so, so loudly. ➸ You don’t want him to feel bad about it, because you love to sleep over and don’t want him to feel guilty about something he can’t help, so you don’t mention it to him. ➸ But your lack of sleep due to the earth shattering snores is driving you mad. So instead, you look up ways to to quickly fall asleep. ➸ You start your days early, try to be active when you can, test a myriad of teas and snacks that supposedly induce sleep easier, and it turns out to be quite fun experimenting with different methods. It starts to be a little game to see if you can fall asleep before Kai does. ➸ And eventually, it starts to work! You fall asleep before him, and conk out through the night. ➸ In actuality, it turns out that Kai once saw an open browser on your laptop, googling ‘ways to fall asleep’. He also happened to notice your habit of drinking sleep time remedies. ➸ He kind of figured it must’ve been due to his snoring, he remembered his teammates teasing him about it at camp in high school. So, at night, he started to force himself to stay awake and listen for the sound of your even breathing. ➸ Though he doesn’t mind one bit, kissing your forehead when you’re finally asleep, love is compromise!

✰ Fukunaga Shouhei ➸ Fukunaga is a comedian by day, and comedian by night. The guy does not stop. ➸ He Is a chronic sleep talker, and often sleep walks (sleep acts, more like). You find yourself staying up some nights just to see what he’ll do next. ➸ You caught him in the living room once, doing what you can only assume was pitching a tent. Was he camping in his dreams? ➸ Depending on what he does, you’ll sometimes casually suggest what you should do for your next date, like camping. “How did you know I wanted to that, babe?!” (He’s convinced you’re a psychic). ➸ It’s insane to you how long the acts go on too. He never flits between dreams, always one routine. You think he kayaked to an island once, judging by the way he mimed it on the couch, sleep talking about the dolphins and the birds. ➸He’ll sleep talk his comedy routines also, “Thanks for coming everyone!”, and you have to stifle a laugh so not to wake him. ➸ You always let it run it’s course since he’s not hurting anyone or himself. You sigh contently when he finally returns to bed after whatever wild adventure he was having, and he always tucks his head into your shoulder muttering about his love for you.

✰ Inuoka Sou ➸ The biggest, love struck, dork. Always, always, always wants to cuddle, and it’s the cutest thing ever.  ➸ He follows you around all night before it’s time to sleep, not unlike a puppy would. He brushes his teeth with you, and even learned to do a skin care routine just to spend more time with you in the bathroom. And he only did so because he spent entirely too long pouting in bed, tossing and turning, while waiting for you to finish. ➸ Cuddling with Inuoka is always warm and wholesome... until it isn’t. On hot summer nights, you can’t stand to be wrapped up in his body heat. It’s perfect for colder weather and winter nights, but not the scorching summer. ➸ Despite being the heaviest sleeper, always snoozing past his alarm and snoring away when you try to wake him, he instantly wakes up when you try to move away from his arms. ➸ You only wanted to get a air and rid of all the heat, but Inuoka looks up at you with the sleepiest puppy eyes you’ve ever seen, “Babe, where are you going?” ➸ Every time, you give in, “No where baby.” ➸ It’s just once a year, for the entirety of the summer, right? You can withstand that much (and maybe invest in a better fan).

[Masterlist] [Karasuno]

[sisterspooky1013]

Damsels, Chapter Five: Work That Gameboy

By SisterSpooky1013 / Tagging @today-in-fic

Rated E / Read previous chapters here

Mulder arrives at work early, looking longingly at Scully’s car in the parking lot. Approaching it, he peers in the windows looking for…he isn’t sure what. Her car is, as usual, neat as a pin with no indication of where she went or why.

In his restlessness the night before, he’d thought a lot about why it bothers him so much not to know where she is or what she’s doing. If the roles were reversed, he would expect her to wait it out and trust him to take care of himself, but for some reason he’s struggling to do the same for her. He thought at first that it was her tendency to get hurt or need help, but by comparison he needs her help just as often as she needs his, so that doesn’t track. Then he thought maybe it’s that he doesn’t trust Skinner to do what’s in her best interest, but Skinner has shown a tendency to be protective of Scully on numerous occasions (and in fact Mulder strongly suspects his feelings for her go beyond the bounds of strict professionalism), so that isn’t entirely logical either. Skinner may have left him out to dry with the New Spartans, but he doesn’t believe the man would stoop low enough to treat Scully in the same manner.

In the end, he realized that it’s pretty simple; he’s just crazy about her. His protectiveness doesn’t have anything to do with how capable she is, or the situations other people might put her in, or even situations she might put herself in. He misses her, and cares so much about her that not even knowing where she is feels wrong. It feels like a piece of him is missing, and he’s not allowed to know where it is or when he’ll get it back.

After pretending to work for an hour, he sulks up to Skinner’s office and asks for a few minutes of his time. Skinner is immediately irritated, though Mulder doesn’t realize that it’s in response to him and not a preexisting condition. He stands in front of Skinner’s desk, looming over him.

“What do you want, Agent Mulder?” Skinner grumbles, not looking up from the document he’s reading.

“I’d like to know where Agent Scully is, sir.”

Skinner sighs heavily, dropping his head to his chest.

“Get out of my office, Agent Mulder,” he says in a low, menacing tone.

“Sir, I’m not asking to contact her, I would never compromise her case, I just need to at least know where she is. What if something happens and I need to find her?”

Skinner stands, looking Mulder in the eye with an intensity he’s seen on very few occasions, none of them fond memories. “Agent Mulder, Agent Scully explicitly asked me not to tell you where she is, or what she’s doing. Even if she hadn’t, I STILL would not tell you, however I hope that if you don't respect the direct orders of your superior, you might, at the very least, respect Agent Scully’s wishes. Now get the hell out of my office and do not bring this up again, understood?”

Mulder glances down and notices Scully’s keys on the desk near Skinner’s nameplate, her Apollo 11 keychain easily identifiable. He leans forward, putting his hands on the desktop, one covering the keys.

“Sir, if anything happens to her, I’ll-“

“You’ll what, Agent Mulder?” Skinner challenges him, stuffing his hands in his pockets in a show of bravado.

Mulder straightens, palming the keys as he stands, and leaves without another word.

Scully arrives at the club just before 2 pm, wearing shorts and a tank top as Angel had instructed. After stuffing her purse into a locker, she finds Angel and Tibet on the floor, which has returned to its daylight state of clean and quiet. Queenie restocks the bar while Ben fiddles with the sound system.

Tibet is up on the stage while Angel sits at the tip rail, offering pointers on a new dance Tibet is working out. Scully immediately notices that Tibet’s hair is cropped short and worn in its natural curls, and realizes she’d been wearing a wig the night before.

“So I was thinking that I could either take my top off just before or just after the first chorus, tell me which looks better, okay?” Tibet says to Angel as Scully enters and takes a seat beside her.

“Benny! Hit me with the music!” Tibet shouts, and then repeats her performance twice, revealing her breasts at a different point in the song each time. When she’s finished, she sits down on the edge of the stage in front of them and asks for their thoughts, her breasts still uncovered.

“I think the sooner the better,” Angel says. “They come here to see your body, so show it to em!”

Tibet nods. “What do you think, Desi?” She asks, stretching a smooth brown leg out to her side and leaning into it.

Scully suddenly feels entirely out of her league in terms of providing an opinion. “Uh, well, generally speaking I guess I’d say wait. You want to build some suspense, right? Make them work for it?”

Angel looks at her suspiciously out of the corner of her eye. “You don’t fuck on the first date, do you?” She asks with a haughty grin, and Scully’s eyes go big at the question. “I’m just messing with you, let’s get to your training!”

“Alright,” Tibet begins as though she’s done this dozens of times, tugging the straps of her shirt back over her shoulders. “So, have you ever given a lap dance before?” she asks plainly, and Scully’s cheeks flush.

“Well, kind of I guess. In college, though more as a joke than anything else. I would definitely consider myself a beginner.”

“Got it, got it,” Tibet responds. “Well, for the most part dancing is about creating a sense of intimacy. It’s fake, obviously, but the more your customer feels like you actually care about him, want him to look at you, like that he’s appreciating your body, the better you’ll do. Your stage set is just about showing yourself off and getting them curious about you. The real money comes from lap dances and VIP, and the more you can draw attention with a really great stage set, the more customers will want to spend time with you afterward. Angel is a beast on the pole and she can teach you all those tricks, but I consider myself the lap dance expert around here, so I’m gonna teach you that part.” She smiles and jumps down from the stage, pulling a chair away from one of the tables and gesturing for Scully to sit in it.

“Oh,” Scully says, and sits as instructed.

“Sometimes, when you’re on the floor, customers will flag you down or ask for you, and that’s great. But you also have to approach people, because they’ll be too shy to ask. So you might come up and do this.”

Tibet saunters towards Scully with a secretive smile on her lips, stepping so close that her thighs thread between Scully’s knees. Next she leans down, placing her hands on Scully’s shoulders and bringing her mouth to Scully’s ear.

“Would you like a dance, Baby?” she asks in a syrupy voice, and Scully feels a shiver run down her spine. Tibet backs up. “Okay, now you try.”

“You want ME to do that?” Scully clarifies, and while just asking someone if they want a lap dance should be the easiest hurdle to clear, she’s finding that it’s still an uncomfortably high one.

Angel turns her head toward the bar and calls out, “Queenie! We need some liquid courage over here!”

Queenie walks over with a bottle of tequila and three shot glasses, pouring them wordlessly before returning to her task.

Angel holds her glass up, Tibet and Scully following suit. “To new career paths,” Angel says, and Scully smiles thinly, clinking her glass with theirs and throwing back the shot with a grimace.

Three weeks. She’s been gone three weeks, and not a word from Skinner. No update, no information, though he’s stopped by a couple times and asked, drawing increasing amounts of rage from his boss. He’s finished all the paperwork, re-organized the files, cleaned and rearranged the office (only to immediately change it back) and spent hours upon hours imagining where Scully might be right now.

He kept her keys, just in case, but knows she’d be unhappy with him invading her privacy by snooping around her apartment. That’s why he waits three whole weeks before he finally does it. He has a key to her apartment and could have gone there at any point, but her personal keyring also holds the keys for her gun safe and her mailbox, which may prove helpful. After work on a Thursday, he drives by and lets himself in, the warm vanilla smell of her immediately invading his nostrils as he opens the door. He sighs deeply, pulling her into his lungs; it feels like coming home.

First he waters her plants, which are looking half dead, and makes a mental note to use watering them as the reason he came here if asked. Next he opens her gun safe, and is struck to find her service weapon holstered and tucked neatly inside with the safety on. She doesn’t have her gun? What the hell kind of assignment is this? He brings in her mail, which is no help at all, and leaves it stacked on the counter. Next he lays down on her bed, shoving his face into her pillow and breathing the smell of her shampoo for a few minutes before he has the thought to look for her overnight bag.

Scully has a go bag in the trunk of her car for emergencies, but given the opportunity she’ll use her overnight bag and pack for the weather, situation, etc. Opening her closet, he finds it on the floor near her laundry hamper, empty save for a travel size can of hairspray tucked into a side pocket. In her bathroom, he finds all her toiletries accounted for, including her toothbrush. The more he sees, the more confused he is. Even when he’d spent time undercover with dangerous individuals, he’d been allowed to bring his own toothbrush.

Moving to the hallway, he picks up her landline and dials.

“Dana?” Maggie Scully’s voice answers on the second ring.

“No, sorry, Mrs. Scully, it’s Fox Mulder.”

“I saw Dana’s name on the caller ID, is she with you?” Her voice carries worry.

“No, I’m just here at her apartment watering her plants, sorry to confuse you. Have you been in touch with Dana, Mrs. Scully?”

“No, Fox, I haven’t heard from her in weeks. She told me she had an assignment that would take her away for a while and that she’d be unreachable, but I’m a little concerned that she hasn’t contacted me yet.”

Mulder closes his eyes. “I wish I had anything to share, Mrs. Scully, but I’m in somewhat of the same boat. A.D. Skinner isn’t concerned and it does sound like he’s in touch with her, but I was hoping she might have called you.”

“I’m afraid not,” Maggie replies sadly.

“What did she tell you when she left? Did she share any information at all?” he asks hopefully.

“Um, let me think. She said she was going on an assignment and that she’d be out of touch for a few weeks. And she said she’d bring me some Tastykakes when she comes home,” she adds.

“Tastykakes, what are those?” Mulder asks, his investigative senses tingling.

“They’re a treat we always get when we go to Philadelphia; little packaged snack cakes. The kids always loved them.”

“Are they only available in Philadelphia?” he asks, heart pumping.

“I’m not sure, but that’s where we always get them,” Maggie says hopefully.

“Thank you, Mrs. Scully. That’s really helpful. I’ll let you know if I track her down, okay?”

“Thank you, Fox. Take care.”

Setting the phone back on its cradle, he does a little victory dance. It isn’t much, but it’s something. Scully is just a few hours away in the city of brotherly love.

Three weeks. It’s been three weeks of practicing stage sets and lap dances in the afternoon, serving drinks in the evening and well into the middle of the night, and then sleeping until noon. Her arms and legs bear fading bruises from her acclimation to Paul the Pole, the crooks of her elbows and knees sporting slight calluses that help her get a good grip (with an assist from the grip powder Angel has instructed her to use). She’s given Tibet and Angel dozens of lap dances each, the other standing by to coach her on making sure one foot stays on the floor. After three weeks, she found that her barriers were mostly in her head. Once she was able to let go and just move, she’s actually pretty good at it.

That day she arrives in pink cotton shorts and a white tank top, now so used to being scantily clad that it no longer makes her self-conscious, and prepares to do a full dress rehearsal of the routine she worked up with Angel’s help. Queenie and Ricky sit down to observe what is more or less a test of her readiness, and one she intends to pass. Where she would have expected to feel nervous, she’s excited, ever the eager student motivated to impress and exceed expectations. Ben kills the daytime lights to make it look and feel like it would if they were open, and her set begins.

Moving onto the stage, she can barely see her audience with the bright lights trained on her. She quickly gets lost in the movements she rehearsed, feeling graceful as she circles the pole and hitches an arm around it, spinning in a feathery arc. When the point in the dance comes to remove her shirt, she does so as a well practiced step in a strategy, without any feelings of exposure. Soon enough her bra follows suit and she is left with only her tiny pink shorts, nipples hardening as they graze the pole. The undulation of her hips, the pop of her booty out towards the audience, the slip of a hand down the inside of her thigh; they’re each a part of the method. Precisely planned and executed in much the same way as she might dismantle and clean her gun, or prepare a slide for the microscope. It isn’t much different than performing an autopsy, she had reasoned. Except instead of: Y incision, open rib cage, remove organs, examine stomach contents, collect specimens, examine brain, it’s: arch back, grasp breasts, spread legs, thrust pelvis, rub thighs, grind on the pole. She’s always found her strength in taking a clinical, detached approach to difficult tasks, and that turns out to be just as effective on the stage as it is in the lab.

As she finishes, her small audience erupts into applause, standing in ovation as Ben brings the house lights up halfway. Scully smiles shyly, stepping down to join them on the floor as Ricky approaches her and slings an arm around her bare shoulders.

“That was fucking fantastic, Desi. Sexy as fuck. Let me see you do a lap dance now.”

Continue Reading

[clusterbuck]

been trying to tell you i want you the most (part two)

(2.6k, rated E, chapter 2/2; vampire!buck au) part one, or read the whole thing on ao3

Buck avoids him for the entire rest of the day. He’s not obvious about it—doesn’t turn tail and run away from him like Chimney trying to hide a secret—but Eddie knows Buck, knows him better than he knows anyone, with the possible exception of his own son. So he knows what it looks like when Buck’s avoiding someone.

There’s also the fact that Eddie is accustomed to spending entire shifts practically glued to Buck’s side, and now he’s alone. Buck might only be on the other side of the room, but he could just as well be on a different planet. And Eddie knows he isn’t the only one who’s noticed.

No one says anything, but Eddie doesn’t miss the way Bobby, Hen, and Chimney keep looking back and forth between him and Buck like spectators at a tennis match. He also doesn’t miss the way their gazes linger at the base of his throat, where Buck’s earlier attention left a sizeable hickey.

At least no one had seen him in the locker room, scrambling to find a pair of uniform pants with the button still attached.

But Eddie doesn’t care about any of it—the looks, the raised eyebrows, the speculation he knows must be going on behind his back. All he cares about is the fact that Buck won’t even look at him. It gnaws at him, digs a hole in his chest that only grows deeper the longer this goes on.

And on it goes.

They get called out to a fairly sizeable structure fire in the early afternoon, and Eddie breathes a sigh of relief, because at least now Buck will have to look at him.

Except he doesn’t, not once. It would be impressive, if not for the fact that it’s putting them all in danger.

Their shift is over by the time they pull back into the station. Buck is off the truck before it comes to a stop, in and out of the locker room before most of them manage to climb out. He stalks through the station and out towards the parking lot, and Bobby sighs.

“I don’t know what’s going on with you two,” he tells Eddie. “But you need to sort it out before it gets somebody killed.”

“It’s—” Eddie starts, and then stops, because he doesn’t know if Buck has actually disclosed the whole vampire thing to Bobby. Also because he doesn’t really want to tell his captain a story that culminates in him basically coming in his pants in the fire station supply closet.

“I don’t need to know the details,” Bobby says. “Nor do I particularly want to. Just figure it out, will you?”

“I’m trying,” Eddie mutters. Bobby gives him an encouraging smile and heads off in the direction of his office.

He calls Carla on the drive over to Buck’s loft to ask if she can hang out with Christopher for a little while longer today.

“Is everything okay?” she asks immediately.

“Yeah, I just need to figure out why Buck won’t fucking look at me,” he says, perhaps a little more vehemently than originally intended.

There’s silence on the other end of the line, and then: “I’m gonna tell my husband I’m spending the night here.”

“No, you don’t have to—”

“Good luck!” Carla says, and hangs up before Eddie can finish his protest.

He pulls up in front of Buck’s building, and this time he doesn’t need to sit in the parking lot debating it. He just walks right in, all the way into Buck’s apartment.

Buck is lying on the sofa, staring at the ceiling. He doesn’t react when Eddie storms in, doesn’t even turn his head to look. “What the fuck, Buckley?”

“I’m sorry,” Buck says hoarsely, and he sounds so despairing that Eddie stops in his tracks. Some of his anger melts away.

“What—are you okay?”

Buck says nothing.

“I’m gonna need more words,” Eddie says.

“No, I’m not okay,” Buck says tonelessly.

“Buck.”

“It’s okay, you can spare me the lecture and just go. I know. I’m sorry.”

Eddie had been angry when he walked in, but now he’s mostly just confused, and more than a little concerned. “What are you sorry for, exactly?”

“I said I wouldn’t force you to do anything you didn’t want to do, and then I…” Buck trails off, and it clicks.

Eddie doesn’t know whether to laugh or scream. This is why Buck has been avoiding him all day?

“Were we in the same supply closet?” he asks, incredulous. “Did you miss the part where I said please?” It’s not exactly his proudest moment, the begging, but he’d thought it was pretty obvious that he had been very into everything that had been happening.

“It’s the venom,” Buck mutters. “More of the same predator bullshit. It just makes you think you want things.”

This isn’t the way Eddie had planned on coming clean to Buck. Mostly on account of the fact that he hadn’t really planned on doing it at all. But Buck is about to spiral, and Eddie can only think of one way to pull him out of it.

He takes a deep breath. “Buck. I wanted you long before I ever even saw your fangs. It isn’t the venom talking.”

“Sounds like something someone under the thrall of vampire venom would say,” Buck says, but he’s beginning to sound more like himself, amused and a little teasing.

“It’s not—okay, is there some kind of venom field sobriety test?”

Buck stares at him. “I can almost guarantee you there is not, because no one in the history of the world has ever needed one before.”

“Okay, so, how long do the effects usually last?”

“Twelve hours, maybe?”

Eddie looks at his watch. “Okay then.” He pulls Buck’s feet off the couch and sits in the space left behind.

“What are you doing?” Buck asks, scrambling not to fall on the floor.

“Waiting it out.”

Eddie doesn’t know exactly when they left the supply closet, but he has a good enough idea. He watches the minutes tick by, looking up at Buck every now and then. Buck meets his gaze every time, and his stare is intense enough that Eddie’s well on his way to hard by the time his self-imposed deadline comes around.

“Time’s up,” he says, looking at Buck. “I still want you.”

Buck swallows. “Then have me.”

Eddie crawls over slowly, draping himself across Buck. “Are you sure?” he asks, face hovering inches above Buck’s. “Sure it’s not just the venom talking?”

“Shut up,” Buck growls, reaching for Eddie’s neck to pull him closer.

“Make me,” Eddie says, and he’s grinning as his lips crash against Buck’s.

It’s then that Eddie realises that as familiar as he’s become with Buck’s mouth over the past few weeks, this is the first time they’re actually kissing. Buck’s mouth has been all over him, but this is the first time he’s been able to get his mouth on Buck.

For the life of him, he can’t remember why they haven’t been doing this all along. Buck’s mouth slides against his like they were made to fit together, and Eddie is suddenly glad they’re already lying down. It would be embarrassing if the mere act of kissing brought him to his knees, like he suspects it might if his legs had to actually hold his weight right now.

Buck’s fangs slide out, and Eddie traces the shape of them with his tongue. Buck pulls back, just enough so he can see Eddie.

“I knew it,” Buck says, a hint of smugness in his voice. “You have a thing for the fangs.”

“I don’t—” Eddie splutters. “It’s not—”

But Buck drags the tips of his fangs down the column of Eddie’s throat, just shy of drawing actual blood, and Eddie’s dick twitches.

“That’s right,” Buck says. “Looks like you’ve got yourself a little fang kink.”

Eddie groans and hides his face against Buck’s shoulder. He’s pretty sure it’s approximately the same shade as a fire truck right now.

“I mean, you’ve come to the right place,” Buck says, trailing his fingertips up and down the back of Eddie’s neck. “If, you know, that was something you were into.” He punctuates the statement by nipping at Eddie’s throat, just enough that blood starts beading on his skin, and Eddie shudders.

“I’m gonna have to start wearing turtlenecks,” Eddie grumbles.

“We live in LA,” Buck points out. “You might as well just wear a big sign that says ‘ask me about the marks on my throat’.”

“Or you could stop marking up my throat.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Buck asks, and Eddie still hasn’t looked up, but he can hear the grin in Buck’s voice. “I do have a couple of ideas, though…”

Eddie lifts his head. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Buck says, and scrapes a fang along Eddie’s jaw. “But I just fed this morning, so you’ll have to wait to find out what they are.”

“Tease,” Eddie groans, breath catching as Buck licks at the spot his fangs had just been.

“It’s only teasing if I don’t do anything about it,” Buck counters. “And I fully intend to.” Then he moves, flipping both of them over faster than Eddie can blink. And maybe he should be used to the vampire strength by now, but it still kind of takes his breath away.

Buck cradles his face like it’s something precious to him, and Eddie is struck dumb by the contrast of the fond look on Buck’s face and the fangs at the corners of his mouth. He’s always been drawn to Buck, but he’s only just starting to understand the extent of it. There is no configuration of the universe that intended for them to end up here like this, predator and prey—and yet.

Eddie has always been defiant, but as he reaches up to chase Buck’s lips with his, he thinks this might be a new extreme.

Buck leans back as Eddie reaches up, a glint in his eye. “So much for not being a tease,” Eddie whines in protest.

“Give me a second,” Buck says. A moment later he’s on his feet, supporting Eddie’s weight with just one arm.

Yeah, Eddie is definitely not used to the vampire strength yet. He wraps his legs around Buck’s waist, more for the novelty of it than because he’s afraid Buck will drop him.

Buck heads for the stairs, and Eddie leans in to kiss his neck, the underside of his jaw, anywhere he can reach. They reach the top and Buck deposits him on the bed, crawling after him until he’s hovering over Eddie.

“It’s not that I wasn’t enjoying the high school style couch make out,” Buck says, kissing the corner of Eddie’s mouth, and his jaw, and nipping at his earlobe. “But I need room to work.”

Buck tears off his shirt, and Eddie is about to protest when Buck gently bites at a spot on his ribcage and starts sucking a mark into his skin, and Eddie no longer has the brain cells to spare for things like complaining about ripped clothing.

He’s convinced Buck’s mouth has magical properties, even beyond the obvious, because surely the combination of tongue and teeth shouldn’t be this potent. Eddie writhes under Buck’s touch, torn between never wanting him to stop and begging him to move on already, because Buck hasn’t even touched him anywhere below the ribs yet and he’s almost painfully hard.

“Buck,” he grits out, a groan and a plea. He doesn’t even know what he’s asking for, exactly, just knows that he needs more.

“We’re going to have to work on your patience,” Buck says, and bites at Eddie’s hip, just above the waistline of his boxers.

“Patience is overrated,” Eddie grumbles, trying to grab at whatever part of Buck is closest to him.

Buck takes both his wrists in one hand and pins them to the side. “Will you just stay still? I promise I’m gonna take care of you.”

“What if I want to take care of you?” Eddie counters, sounding more belligerent than he feels with Buck’s hands working his fly open and dragging his pants down.

“Later,” Buck says, throwing Eddie’s pants and boxers off somewhere to the side and pulling his own clothes off. “My turn first.”

Eddie is about to protest when Buck wraps his lips around his dick, and the only sound that leaves Eddie’s mouth is a moan.

If Eddie thought Buck’s mouth had magical properties before, it was nothing compared to this. His entire world narrows to this one point, to his dick in Buck’s mouth. To the swirl of Buck’s tongue and the gentle pressure of his mouth. To the occasional barely-there scrape of his teeth, just enough to remind Eddie about the sharp fangs that live in that mouth.

Just as suddenly as it began, it’s over, and Eddie whines at the loss of contact as Buck withdraws. Buck runs his hands over Eddie’s thighs and spreads them apart, and Eddie shudders at the rush of air—and then shudders again as Buck bites the inside of his thigh, enough to draw blood.

“Told you I have ideas,” Buck says, and Eddie can hear the smirk in his voice.

“You can’t—you can’t do that at the station,” Eddie gasps out.

“No, that’s just for me,” Buck agrees, and bites him again.

There’s a sound Eddie can’t identify, and then Buck’s fangs are replaced with something cold. Buck brings a hand between his legs, and Eddie realises it must be lube just as Buck starts carefully working a finger into him.

Buck takes his sweet time with it, moving his fingers so slowly Eddie isn’t sure he’s moving at all. Eddie whines impatiently and tries to buck his hips, and Buck just laughs and pins him down with his other hand.

“Buck,” Eddie pleads. Buck’s slow movements have all his nerve endings on high alert, desperate for the friction Buck isn’t providing. “Please, I—I need—”

“Shh, I know,” Buck says, hand still continuing at its maddeningly slow pace. “Soon.”

Soon could be hours later or it could be seconds, Eddie doesn’t know. All he knows is the way every cell in his body is focused on Buck’s hand, like he could somehow telepathically will it to give him what he needs. His cock is hard against his stomach, leaking and twitching every time Buck brushes against his prostate.

Finally, Buck withdraws his hand. He produces a pillow from somewhere and tucks it under Eddie’s hips, and then Eddie’s practically sobbing from relief as Buck pushes into him.

Buck keeps his thrusts steady and slow and Eddie writhes beneath him, mumbling incoherent praise and encouragement. He can feel himself teetering on the edge, and he tries to communicate this to Buck, practically begging for harder, faster, for anything to tip him out of this limbo of almost, almost, almost—

He tries to reach for his dick but Buck stops him, lifting his arms and pinning them over his head. It brings his face closer to Eddie’s, and he grins. “I keep telling you,” Buck says, “patience,” then he sinks his fangs into the pulse point on Eddie’s throat, and Eddie comes so hard he whites out for a second.

Above him, Buck is finally losing his composure, and Eddie watches him slowly come apart; moving faster, almost frantically, then stilling as his orgasm hits him.

Buck collapses onto him, breathing heavily and nestling his face in Eddie’s shoulder. “Patience was worth it, huh?”

Eddie hums in reply, trailing his fingers up Buck’s back. “I’ll show you patience,” he says, feeling the heavy weight of exhaustion begin to creep over him. “Next time.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” Eddie says, letting it curl into just enough of a growl to wipe the smirk off Buck’s face. “So you’d better be ready.”

[justformyself2]

Rainstorm

Yep. I'm a grown adult, but i feel like i need to tell you not to tell my mom. That is all I'm going to say.

WARNING: +18 READING. Probably some grammar mistakes ♥

John Krasinski x Reader.

Masterlist for more

You remain in the same position, missing countings of having to re-read the same phrase at the top of the page. He is watching you, and it burns, mostly because you were about to give in and were, still, putting up a stupid fight against yourself.

He wasn't playing your games anymore. There was another field being stepped on, other than the childish silent treatment phase, followed by the disgraceful conversation.

You disguised yourself in doing other 'chores' instead of enjoying every little bit of time left with him before LA could come in between and settle you two into the silent treatment for good.

John gets up from behind the desk on the other side of the room, where he stayed most of the time, where you had caught him ignoring his laptop more than once to look at you. He simply marks while making you catch on fire.

So that was the subtle game he was playing, testing you, bending you like a fragile stick, not even using much strength.

Him putting on that black tank top, generous with the view of his new figure, a result of intense hours of training for another movie. It wasn't as if you didn't like him either way, but the combo of letting the beard grow gave him a darker tone you weren't expecting to enjoy.

Another thing you wouldn't expect is his anterior baby boy face to try to get you back with sex, but this new him you didn't know, you only assumed, because that's what you wanted him to do, putting out the dripping agony between your legs.

He could have, probably or definitely, observed the way you clenched early this morning when he got back after jogging, dripping in sweat, taking his shirt off, entering the kitchen, a place supposed to be a neutral zone. 'Unintentionally.' he pressed his body against your back when reaching for a green juice on the fridge while you were trying to grab the chicken breast.

His fingers cupped your waist, and the warmth stayed there. The tingling, his back, and every little patch of skin walking away from the kitchen trapped into your mind. How did he get so many muscles?

With each and every little innocent touch, every other time you were sleeping on the only bed left on that chalé you rented, far away from the mess of New York City, and he would press his hardness against your bottom, became harder to redeem your choice of staying mad, and remembering to stay that way.

He should have known better than siding with your mom against you, especially in intimate conversations, but every now and then he got carried away by your mother's ways, inviting and manipulative.

Talking about inviting and manipulative, you watch John changing his route towards the bed where you were and walking towards the window on the right.

"Shit, it is going to pour out here."

You could curse.

Deciding the actually leave the book and getting up, you seek shelter from leaving the environment when a loud thunder strikes and the lights go out, stopping you in the hallway towards the small living room, shared with the kitchen.

The fragile moonlight coming through the windows was enough to, at least, guide you two close them when the wind started to get intense.

"Maybe I go should check the fuses?"

You didn't think he was serious, and he didn't seem to be when another violent thunder struck.

Was he checking if you still cared about him enough not to send him outside to get hit by lightning?

He closes the last window in the living room part.

"Are you insane?"

There is still a little bit more annoyance in your voice than you wanted.

The kitchen curtains start to be lifted like they are electrified, making you, in a stupid, impulsive way, run towards them and ignore the existence of the step up to the kitchen part.

Your knees hit the edge floor, as also did the palm of your hands, absorbing the fall.

"FUCK!"

"Baby, what happened?"

"WHO THE FUCK PUT THIS FUCKING STEP HERE?"

"Fuck, I can't see a damn thing. Where the fuck did I put my phone?"

"Why do you need a phone?"

"For the flashlight."

"I'm five steps away from you, seriously."

You sit to start rubbing on your knees in a tentative to ease the pain.

"What if I trip on you." You hear his voice coming closer.

"I'll kill you, but I'm fine. I just need a minute." Another thunder strikes lighting up the room, and he spots you for a couple of seconds.

"Do you think you can close the windows?" You ask, hearing the sound of the trees being shaken by the wind.

"Fuck the windows."

There is the sound of his steps coming closer, and you know he crouched down by the vibration of your own body recognizing his, something that wasn't new, but got enhanced by the darkness you two were under, as also did his smell.

It isn't fair.

"John-"

"Shush, come here."

You feel like a child, putting up your arms around his shoulder, after some guidance from his own hands that afterward cupped down the sides of your breasts down towards your waist, and finally, he easily lifts you, keeping you locked against his chest. His hand makes a slow wandering on your back, and you found yourself subconsciously doing the same thing on his naked arms.

"Don't shus-"

He is quicker than your words, and you wouldn't complain, conquering your mouth as his in a battle you didn't want to win.

The wind whistles through the windows, but you could let it bring down the house if it meant John would continue to bite down your lips while moaning.

No underclothing could prevent him from reaching any part of you without ceremony, but he is slow in a way you have to take his hands and put it in on your breasts, making him chuckle.

"For someone who is mad at me."

He takes advantage of your needs, but two could play the game.

"I can stop if you want, and we can go back the way we were."

You bluff, placing all the convincing in your voice since he couldn't see your face, but you could tell he had that jerk smirk.

His answer came in the form of his fingers invading your pajama shorts, you foolishly try to move away, lazily, and his other hand puts you in place while you feel his thumb caressing your clit.

"Are you sure that is what you really want? You know, you just have to tell me."

His low deep tone fogs your brain completely, and he is quick to realize this fact, so he goes back to attacking your lying mouth, left with no other task than moaning for him, but your hands were eager and truthful. You conquer his moans by stroking him through the sweatpants.

"Oh...Fuck! I was starving for this. You really have no idea, looking at you every day, walking on this fucking see-through shirt practically all-day and denying me to touch you, to kiss you."

He bites your shoulder, releasing another moan when your hand reaches under his underwear.

"It is not like you weren't trying to torture me too, eye-fucking me all day, walking around the house semi-naked, dripping in sweat. I will never forgive how fucking hot you look with a beard. I thought I would hate it, and now I just want to feel it in the middle of my tights."

"So we think alike."

"I think we not gonna make it to the bed, and the couch is too small."

"Then floor it is."

Retrieving yours and his hands, he proceeds to grab you by the ass with both hands, lifting you.

Your legs know the way around his waist, and his mouth knows the way towards your breasts. Over the thin fabric t-shirt, he displays fragile bites while crouching down with you on his lap.

When your bottom touches the floor, carefully, you feel his hand on both sides of your body, ready to get rid of your shirt, and with your help, it comes out easily.

John hums in approval, and so does you when his hands are replaced with the warm wetness of his mouth over your nipples.

The summer rain starts to fall heavy outside while your back starts to rest down against the wood floor slowly.

With your spine flat on the floor, he decides to start to travel down with less routine than you expected, undressing you of your shorts.

John could be methodical, but it seems that he didn't lie about being ravenous for you, but he couldn't skip the foreplay, that would be the true sin.

He goes down towards your navel, and you couldn't decide if it was hotter with the absence of the lights or not; It did enhance each feeling, every swirl of his tongue, every wet sound and taste, but you craved to see his hazel eyes, burning with pure lust to see you squirming under his mouth.

You don't know who or what to thank when the moonlight persevered over whatever cloud blocking it, lighting up the room decently enough to let you capture, even if wouldn't last long, the glistening of his tongue entering you at the exact moment.

You wanted to open your eyes, tell him to look up at you, but you underestimated the power abstinence could have. Now you could really comprehend his lack of ceremony.

"Fuck! Shit... John!."

Through your closed eyelids, you welcome back the darkness, missing the opportunity given by the moon, getting clouded like your thoughts. She would have to be merciful when you could even miss your name. She would have to be more merciful than John, which adds a finger to his torture, curling it up inside you, moaning against your clit.

You coming undone was a matter of seconds.

He tries his best to put you in place when the orgasm hits, but he ruins it, retrieving his stokes and tongue at the peak.

"What the fuck!" You don't' even have the strength to get your torso up.

"Oh, you really thought you were getting away with being punished?"

He grabs your thighs, while you layed, spread open for him. You really could escape in the dark and lock him outside the bedroom to figure out the rest with his hand.

When the thought started to sound like a plan you find the strength needed to get up at least your torso, but with your rough movements, he quickly catches up, gripping hard on your thighs and bringing forward towards his lap.

You figured he waited for you to leave since he was already in the position to land you on top of his hardness, as you were.

"You son of b-."

He grabs your ass, forcing it down on him, causing an inevitable moan to occur since you were already sensitive.

"Be a good girl for me, and I will compensate you, baby. I feel like I shouldn't have to tell you this so many times. It is like you want me to punish you."

The moon now betrays you, showing up in a time you were vulnerable, letting him picture your face while your body melted in his arms, and all of him that was so fucking inviting and undeniable.

"Do what you want with me."

With his eyes boring into yours, John lays you down, proceeding to get out of his remaining clothes completely. You couldn't believe how insanely good he looked; the moonlight could be fooling you.

Watching his cock pops out of the underwear, you could feel the wet agony forming between your legs all over again, like the heavy rain outside.

There isn't another word when the connection of your eyes was held strong, until he inclined forward, placing himself where he belonged, inside you, and your vision got compromised as he merciless pounded his pelvis against yours.

"Christ!"

He growls like an animal, just from being inside of you.

"Make it last, Krasinski."

"Don't worry about it." He chuckles.

Getting a better position with his arms on the sides of your head, he places one under your neck for comfort.

Your legs wrapped around his waist deepened his movements, and soon he was hitting places unknown to you.

"Oh... fuck, that's it right there, don't stop."

You couldn't control, taking advantage of the rain, muffling your pleadings, and also did he, what ironically made you mad at the rain.

He wasn't much vocal, and it didn't bother you till now when his moans were eating your brain out from logic.

"God, you are getting wetter by the second." He says, then kisses your lips before closing his eyes, increasing the strokes. "Is it cause you are now how you are supposed to be? Full of me, and only me."

Now you were the one hungry for his mouth, grabbing on his beard slightly hard to bring towards your face. His tongue is avid, his free hand goes towards your clit, and it's too much.

His mouth parts from yours.

"Cum on my dick, baby, cum for me so I can fill you up like you want me to."

You cry it out, feeling every cell of your body ready to obey him, to please him, and it doesn't take too long when your legs started to shake, and this time he goes all the way with it, letting to lose a bit of movement only when his own orgasm reached. You kiss him, deeply, while he still thrust into you randomly.

His moans vibrating in your mouth, till he quiets down, parting the kiss.

He smirked at you.

"Do you remember when you told me that fucking during a rainstorm was your fantasy?"

[grandcompany]

[ ❌ ] is there something your muse struggles with that they might never overcome? what is it? why do they have so much trouble with it? /// [ 🧱 ] how would you describe your muses’ morality? what are their core values? (an ask for each character!)

❌

Lorh watched the woman beside her sleeping, the soft rise and fall of her chest beneath the thin covers and the heat of her leg pressed against Lorh's skin welcome evidence of life in her pallid form. The first few times Lorh had woken beside Pidgeon she'd been struck by the intense urge to check the woman's pulse.

Her gaze fell to the bandages wrapped at the woman's shoulder, clean and fresh. Beneath them she knew she'd find tidy stitching, the wounds well cared for. That Pidgeon had needed the medic's care at all stung at Lorh. She'd hoped that Pidgeon would care to stay over again of her own volition now that Lorh had recovered from her own injuries, not that they'd merely trade the roles of injured and caregiver.

The ache at seeing the woman's injuries shifted in Lorh's chest, slithering into that old familiar voice that had plagued her as long as she could remember.

She'll go. She'll go. She'll leave you eventually.

Lorh pushed it down and lay back on her pillow, careful not to disturb Pidgeon with the movement. Having the woman in her bed this last sennight had been a balm, even if half of it had been spent with her body aching and her mind fuzzy from the medic's treatments, but it was pure foolishness to think the woman would stay. It was far, far too early to be thinking that way for a woman she'd met hardly a few weeks before, and even if it wasn't Pidgeon had made her status as an eager vagabond incredibly clear.

Lorh shifted again, too restless to sleep on her back. As she repositioned she let her hand rest on Pidgeon's waist and buried her face in the woman's hair. The sweet floral smell of it was soothing, and slowly, eventually, she was able to ignore the strangling bubble of fear in her chest and drifted back to sleep.

🧱

Wolf held her breath, staring down the ridgeline at the group of Wood Wailers as they stalked slowly through the foliage. Their spears rattled along the low-hanging branches, making enough noise to scare away most of the wildlife. How they managed to be so damnably bad at their jobs baffled her, and yet she was greatful for it as she stood stock-still in the hopes they'd pass by and miss her and Gilberne.

Another few tense moments and they'd walked on down the deertrail, passing right beneath the two poachers as they waited in the brush. Finally Wolf sighed and crouched over Gilberne, her voice still a low whisper, "You think you can sit up?"

Gilberne shook tears from his eyes and pushed up, grimacing as he did so. Wolf didn't need to be a chiurgeon to know his leg was shattered. He'd be lucky if he walked without a limp ever again. His stunt had been a stupid one, but she felt awful that he'd paid such a high price for juvenile stupidity.

"You shoulda gone," he mumbled as he looked at his leg.

"Nope," Wolf grunted as she wrapped a massive arm around him and carefully picked him up. She was greatful he had the good sense to clap a hand over his mouth to stifle the groan of pain, and she settled him as comfortably against her chest as she could. He was so light, and she could feel his ribs through his filthy shirt.

"We're gonna get you back and fixed up," she said as she started to carefully pick her way down over the jagged rocks. "Don't leave folks behind here. Not like them," she jerked her head in the direction the Wood Wailers had gone. "Leastwise, I don't."

Gilberne clung to her neck and Wolf sighed. The kid was an idiot, but she'd meant every word. His voice was tiny and contrite as he clung to her, "Thanks, Caps."

Thanks for the ask @yokasaris!

Lorh has some abandonment issues for sure. She tends to cling too tightly to friends and lovers as a result. I don't know if she'll ever fully overcome it but hopefully she learns to lighten the grip at least a little. Tagging @pidgeon-sorrel for the mention.

Wolf's biggest moral code is that she doesn't leave people behind, or let them fail just because they made one bad decision. Everyone deserves safety and shelter in Wolf's eyes and she's gonna do her best to live up to that even if it's hard.

[slasherscream]

You don't have to if you feel uncomfortable but may I have a request where JD, Hannibal, Billy and Candyman react when they found out the woman they love who always cares and smiles for others, just a ball of sunshine coming from a dysfunctional broken home. Even when they find her with a black eye due to an argument, she still smiles and ensures she's fine

Jason Dean

JD never saw it coming. He figured you came from some perfect, little suburban dream family. A loving Mother, a doting Father        he didn’t know what else could produce someone like you but a stable home life. 

He had a childhood that was less than ideal, putting it lightly, and you two shared almost nothing in common. Where he was pessimistic you were looking on the bright side. When he pointed out the nastiness in others you’d somehow find a way to make him see the good in the people around you two as well.

Though sometimes he thought you were a little naive it endeared him to you more than you could know. No matter what he did you’d come back swinging with that positive, happy-go-lucky outlook and it was beginning to rub off on him, just a little. 

He smiled more when you were around. Everything felt more worthwhile. That was, of course, when the illusion went tumbling down. 

He crawled through your window ready to see you and surprise you as he’d gotten your address from one of your many friends at school. 

He climbed through the window he guessed was yours only to find you curled up on your bed, clutching your pillow and trying to block out the sounds of loud fighting going on downstairs. 

Multiple voices screaming back and forth, you flinching at every sound bleeding through your door. But that wasn’t the worst of it. The worst was when he made a noise finishing coming through and you turned to look at him, startled. 

Your eye was swollen and already beginning to discolor but immediately upon seeing the expression on his face (rage and heartbreak mixing together) you raced to him trying to reassure him you were fine. 

He asked who touched you but you just kept reassuring him that everything was fine. You hugged him close and tried to soothe his nerves, all the while, the fighting downstairs got louder.  

You can say it’s fine all you want but JD will never forget and he’ll get his answer eventually. He’ll punish your family for hurting you all these years when there was no one around to protect you. You were everything that was good about the world, and if he had to burn it to ash to see you safe and happy the way you deserved to be? He’d do it in a heartbeat. 

Hannibal Lecter

Hannibal is probably the closest to seeing something off right from the start of things. 

It’s not that you aren’t convincing, or even that you’re faking your joy and general love for the world around you. He hates people that aren’t genuine and he can sniff them out easily. 

It’s just that sometimes there is a sadness to you that he is always trying to trace back to something. You are a puzzle that he is trying to solve and somewhere along the line he falls in love with you. 

He notices how you dance around the topic of family, keeping your comments vague and going a bit quiet whenever he brings up wanting to meet the people who’d raised such a wonderful, young woman. 

For some reason his mind does not jump straight to abuse. There are plenty of strained parental relationships that are not out right abusive and outside of those tiny moments where you seem to break a little at the seams you’re so bright. 

Love is blind, he’d thought the expression only true for others, he hadn’t ever imagined himself being in love in the first place. He couldn’t have imagined his own assumptions towards you blinding him to the obvious. 

When you show up to a lunch date with him wearing sunglasses he tries to spend the meal ignoring them but finally asks, for the sake of manners, for you to remove them as you are at the table. He’d never known you to be rude. 

Slowly you take them off and the world goes still. Your face is pointed downwards towards the table but it doesn’t stop him from being able to see your eye. He rushes from his side of the table to cup your face and everything clinks into place immediately. 

“Who did this to you, dearest?” his voice is devoid of judgement, calm the way he is during his sessions. But inside he’s engulfed with rage. 

“My (family member) didn’t mean to. Our fights just get so bad and I’m always making them so angry-” He pushes your head into his chest, stopping your onslaught of excuses for a person who wouldn’t be in the land of the living very much longer. There was no need for you to think of them anymore. 

Billy Loomis

What draws him to you is how good you are. At first it annoys him because he thinks you’re faking it. No one could possibly be as sweet and kind as you’re pretending to be. 

He can stand few things less than he can stand a fake and at first, frankly, his interest in you is finding out everything he can about you so he can kill you and mentally torture you while he does it.

It’s while he’s learning everything he can about you and stalking you that he starts to fall in love with you, little by little. Stu keeps asking him when they’re going to off you and he keeps answering ‘not yet’ every time. Eventually Stu stops asking and starts to focus on the next victim. 

Billy doesn’t lose focus. He can’t think of anything but you. He starts stalking you more and more, the need to see you and hear you only worsening by the minute. 

Eventually he gets sloppy and slips up and you see him. You’re walking alone at night for some reason in a town with an active serial killer but you look like there’s no other place you’d rather be. He wonders why you don’t go home but just barely, he’s grateful you’re usually so easy to keep track of. 

When you spot him you recognize him from school and call out to him. He’s got no choice but to approach you casually, pretending he’s also out for a late night walk. “We should walk together to be safe!” Before he knows it you’re looping your arm through his and walking together.

You stay out nearly the whole night together and he asks you out the very next day. It’s not long before he’s calling you his girlfriend and stalking you less. You spend so much time with him he’s actually pretty secure in the relationship and what you mean to each other. Sometimes he’ll do it just to check up on you but it becomes a rarity. 

One night he follows you home, just to make sure you get there without incident, and he starts hearing strange loud noises from inside the house. He sneaks into your bedroom window just to make sure you’re okay. You run in crying right as he’s making his way to the door, clutching the side of your face protectively.

He’s on you in a second, locking the door and prying your hands away. You don’t have time to ask him what he’s doing there before he sees the early signs of your eye bruising and falls into shell-shocked silence. 

With more gentleness than you knew he was capable of he kissed your head, got out a bag, and began to pack away some of your things. You watch him quietly, trying to convince him it’s okay but he silences you with one intense look that he disappears quickly, replaced by the saddest eyes you’ve ever seen. “I’m gonna take care of you, okay?” He crosses the room, cupping your face gently, thumb grazing the skin beneath your bruised eye.

Once he’s done packing he guides you carefully out the window and into his car. He’s going to take you to Stu’s where he intends to share their big secret. Then he and Stu are going to make a night out of killing your family. 

Candyman

He is a spirit, roaming and untethered, when he sees you and is first struck dumb by your beauty. He never thought he’d love again but the minute he sets eyes on you he knows he can grow to love you. That he could cherish you for the rest of your natural life and beyond. 

He wants you. Needs you. He begins to visit you in dreams. Never nightmares. In your dreams he is a princely figure that loves you already, that has loved you more than anyone in your entire life. 

You’ve never slept better than in the months where he woos you, and makes you fall in love with him, this phantom created by your own mind. 

Part of you thinks you’re going crazy. How could you be falling in love with a man that isn’t real? But you’re a romantic and can’t deny the pull you feel within yourself. They may be only dreams but they make you happy. Daniel, makes you happy. 

You don’t have to wonder for long if you’re losing your mind because he whispers to you in a dream that he can be real. Real as flesh and blood if you say a name three times in a mirror. Candyman. 

You wake up the next morning feeling silly but can’t help doing it. Part of you desperately hoping that your escape from your real life could become your real life, if there was really some magic in the world. 

It works of course and the minute you feel his arms around you, you start to cry tears of joy. But you’d forgotten about the fight you had with your family the night before. In your dreams you are always perfect and beautiful, your skin unmarred by the abuse you endure every day. But now, away from your dreams, Robert can see that someone has dared to harm you. His love. His darling. 

He doesn’t need you to tell him who’s done this. One look at you and he seems to know. He knows you better than anyone else. 

His hand, the human one, the one that isn’t for killing or hurting, touches gently your damaged skin. He presses a kiss to your forehead. 

He has been summoned and there’s a price of blood to be paid. 

[lilacyennefer]

Burning Desire

@oldstuffnewstuff​ asked: from the NSFW prompts - let's try #4 Are you trying to turn me on right now? Because it’s working.” #15 “Forget the bed. Let’s fuck right here.” #16 “Fuck, I love the sounds you make.” with either Will from TF or Ray from the Gentlemen. Thank you 💖💖💖💖

A/N: I had so much fun with this, holy shit. I choose Will because there isn't much single story with him. I hope you like it! Also, since gifs make your post disappear in the tags I use some of the edits I made for my Charlie fan account on instagram.

TW: SMUT, it’s literally pure filth 

It was Will’s idea to go to a dinner with Benny and his new girlfriend so he can check her. Will was always worried when Benny had a new girlfriend, knowing his little brother gave his heart and soul to the person who he was in love with, ending up with a broken heart more than once. So, this is why Will started to invite Benny and his new girlfriends to dinner, sometimes to your place where he cooked, sometimes to restaurants when he didn’t feel like cooking, but wanted to check the girl anyway. With Will’s skill sets, he could read every single person like an open book, sometimes it was good, sometimes not so much. 

You were okay with this, seemingly Benny was too, and you never minded spending the night with great food, a glass of wine, and most importantly, with Will. 

But today, today was a bad day for this, knowing you barely will have time to do anything when you get home from work before the two of you leave for the restaurant, and you needed some alone time with Will really badly. 

It all started with the dream you had, a very sexy and exciting dream that made you wake up all hot and bothered, and you couldn’t help this throbbing sensation in the morning since you overslept and had very little time to get ready and go to work. 

The whole day, all you could think about is getting home and do all the dirty things you dreamed about with Will, so he can finally save you from this sensation. 

Your excitement died down quickly when Will called you, telling you that the two of you are going to have a dinner with Benny and his new girlfriend. 

So, when you finally got home from work, Will was sitting on the couch, reading that new book he bought a few days ago, and he looked so fucking good in his reading glasses, all relaxed and lost in the book, it took you everything to not walk up to him and take the book away from him, and ride him until you finally feel the knot what has been tightening inside of you since the morning snap, and you’re no longer bothered. 

But you couldn’t, because you had a goddamn dinner reservation to attend, and Will hates being late from anywhere, even if you know that Benny will be late, because he’s late from everywhere. 

So you start getting ready, you quickly take a cold shower, hoping it will cool your burning body down, and again, it took you so much self control to not touch yourself, just a little bit until you finally can focus on anything else than that throbbing hotness between your legs. 

But you stopped yourself, you wanted Will, no, you needed Will and not your fingers. 

After getting out of the shower, you quickly dried yourself, put on a white lingerie and chose a red dress. You were standing in only your lingerie, doing your makeup when Will joined you in the bedroom, stepping up to you from behind and wrapping his strong arms around you, pulling you closer to his body as he hid his face in the crook of your neck, kissing the soft skin gently. 

You felt like you got struck by lightning, your whole body tensed from Will’s touch, so you quickly pulled away, pushing him away a little bit before you do something what would make the two of you late. 

“Is something wrong?” Will immediately asks you, confusion is written all over his face.

“No, I’m just—“ you sigh. There’s no point hiding this from him, knowing he can read you like an open book, and maybe, if you have to sit through this dinner all horny, you can tease him a little bit too. 

“Ever since I woke up this morning, I’m so unbearably horny I feel like I could explode any time. So you, kissing my neck, knowing what effect it has on me, is not helping.” You blurt out.

Will is looking at you with a smirk, and he slowly looks you up and down. 

That’s it, you decide. If you have to suffer, so does he.

“Do you know what made me so horny?” You ask in your most seductive voice as you take a step closer to Will. “I had a dream last night where you did all kinds of dirty, unspeakable things to me.” You whisper, and you see Will take a sharp breath and swallow hard. 

“Do you know what you did to me?” You asked as you put your hand on his chest, slowly dragging it lower.

“You tied me up to the bed, and I let you tease me for hours. I know how much you love that, seeing me tied up, completely at your mercy, begging you to touch me, to let me cum.” With each word, you dragged your hand lower on his body until you reached his hardening bulge, cupping it in your hand by the time you finished. 

Will really did love to tie you up time to time. It wasn’t anything extreme, it was more about the trust you had for each other. He mostly used scarfs or old ties, once you tried ropes, but it left an ugly mark on the skin of your sensitive wrists, and Will was feeling bad about it for weeks, so you agreed to stay with softer materials. 

The view of you tied up, being completely at his mercy, turned Will on more than ANYTHING in the world, seeing your complete trust in him was better than anything else. And Will loved to tease you, every time when you were together, you could be goddamn sure that he will tease you. Once you asked why he loves it so much, and his answer was simple: he loved how soaking wet you got from it, he loved to hear you beg, and edging your orgasm makes it more intense when you finally come. 

“Are you trying to turn me on right now? Because it’s working.” Will’s voice was already deeper than usual.

“Me?” You try to play the innocent “I was just telling you about my dream, love.” You try to hide the fact that you’re satisfied now that you’re not the only one who’s turned on. You take a step back and pull your hand away from Will before you say:

“C’mon, we can't be late!”

Will just lets out a loud groan.

“You’re gonna pay for this, Y/N.” He warns you before he starts getting ready.

“I can’t wait!” Is all you say as you put on your dress. 

Will finished getting ready really early, so he went back downstairs to wait for you. When you’re finally ready, you head downstairs, only to see Will leaning against the back of the couch, his glasses is sitting on the bridge of his nose, and his book back in his hands. 

And he looks so fucking good. 

He wears a white shirt and a black jacket, with a simple black jeans, but he’s Will, your Will, who looks good in anything, and you’re so horny, you had enough. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” You ask frustrated, making Will look up from his book.

“Is something wrong?” Will repeats his words from earlier.

“Yes! You!” You walk closer to him “I can’t fucking wait any longer.” You take his book away from him and throw it on the ground, not bothering how it landed, and you grabbed Will’s face in your hands and pulled him down for a heated, passionate kiss. 

“We will—“ Will mutters when you pull away from him.

“We are not going.” You announce to Will’s surprise. 

“Give me your phone!” You reach your hand out, and without any comment, he gives you his phone.

You quickly search Benny’s name in his contacts and send him a text saying ‘Y/N got food poisoning, we can’t go. The bill is on me.’ You give Will his phone back and he puts it in the pocket of his jacket. 

“Now, take me to bed, William.” 

Will shakes his head with a sly smile, and he grabs your hips to pull you closer.

“Forget the bed. Let’s fuck right here.” He growls, and you could feel yourself getting even wetter, if that's possible. 

You didn’t wait for Will to take the other step, without any warning you jumped into his neck, wrapping your legs around his hips, kissing him. With Will’s reflex, his hand was already on your bottom, holding you up as he bypassed the couch and sat down on it, with you on his lap, his mouth never leaving yours. 

You’re sitting in Will’s lap and you can already feel his growing bulge underneath you, so you start rocking your hips against his, soaking through your panties. 

Will groans deeply into the kiss, allowing you to slip your tongue into his mouth, making him moan again. 

“I want you so much.” You murmur against Will’s mouth, lips still touching. 

“You have me, darling, you have me.” 

You kiss Will again, needing, like he was air and you were suffocating, like he was the water and you were at the edge of dying from dehydration. 

You needed Will, not just sexually, but in every way. He was your soulmate, your best friend, your compass pointing due north, and without him, you were nothing. But with him, you were everything, and more. 

Your lips are still pressed together, tongues exploring each other’s mouth, and your hand travels down to Will’s crotch, unbuttoning his pants, freeing his throbbing erection.

William lets out another loud groan as the cold skin hits his heated skin, and you smirk lightly before you run your thumb over his leaking tip, making him jump a little and throw his head back with a curse. 

You sit straight up, watching his reactions as your hand moves around him lightly. You take your hand away from him and you spit in your palm before you wrap your fingers around him again, moving your hand around him, up and down, twisting. 

Will suddenly sits up and literally rips your dress off of you, but you don’t care right now as his hands find their way to your soaked core, his fingers easily slipping through your folds. 

“Please.” you whine, and Will nods before, again, he rips your panties off.

“You need to stop ripping my clothes.” You scold him playfully.

“I’ll buy you all the clothes you want, darling.” He mutters into your neck before he gently nips the skin, making you so weak. 

You slip your hand into Will’s golden locks, giving yourself completely into the feeling of his velvet tongue on the sensitive skin of your neck, and his silken hair around your fingers as every part of you completely focuses on Will, and only him. 

With your brain being completely fogged by the pleasure, you try to move your hips a little bit so you can finally feel Will inside of you. Will is sensing what you’re doing and he helps you raise yourself a little bit before you take his cock into your hand and place it to your opening, and slowly you sink down on him. 

You let out the filthiest moan when Will finally filled you completely, stretching you out, making your toes curl. 

Your eyes are closed, and Will’s lips are still on your neck and chest kissing, and nipping your skin, then licking where he just bit you. You don’t wait for yourself to adjust to his size, you start rocking your hips against his, riding him. With every move of your hips, your sensitive clit is rubbing against his stomach, intensifying your pleasure, and making your toes curl. 

The whole room is filled with your moans and Will’s groans as you move in sync, with Will’s large hands still on your ass, guiding your movements.

“This is what you wanted all day?” Will asks you in a deep, husky voice “My cock buried deep inside of your sweet little pussy?” 

You feel yourself clench from his words, turning you on even more, earning more and more filthier moans from you. 

“Fuck, I love the sounds you make.” He groans.

“Will, please!” You whine. 

“You want to come? Then keep riding me, babe, let me see you enjoying my cock.” 

One of Will’s hands move from your ass to your bouncing tits, taking one in your hand and really gently massaging it, then pinching your nipple, making you yelp. 

You feel like it’s getting harder and harder to keep riding Will as pleasure takes over your every sense until the only thing you felt was Will and the fire growing inside of you. 

You suddenly stop moving and lay your sweaty forehead against Will’s equally sweaty shoulder, trying to catch your breath. 

“Please.” Is all you can whisper. Will cups your cheek tenderly and kisses you softly on the mouth.

“I got you, okay? I got you.” He assures you as he carefully lifts you off of himself, laying you down on the couch and he stands up. 

“Come here.” You move and sit in front of him “No, no. You want me to properly fuck you?” You nod “Then ass up, and grab the back of the couch.” You do as Will told you, you turn around and push your ass out to him, he puts his hands on your hips and pulls you closer as you grab the back of the couch. Will grab a his cock in his hands and runs them over your wet folds several times, stopping at your clit every time and tapping its head to you, making you jump. 

“Stop fucking teasing me!” You tell Will, and he just chuckles, but finally slips himself back inside you. 

“Aahhhhh.” You throw your head back with a loud moan, and Will grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling your head back before he starts fucking you hard. 

“Yes!” You scream as you feel Will playfully spank you a few times.

Shakily, you move your hand from the couch and show it between your legs to touch your clit, wanting to finally come. Your legs started to tremble as you started moving your fingers around your sensitive nub, your wetness coating your fingers, making it easier for you to rub yourself.

Will let out the most animalistic growl you ever heard from him, it was barely a human sound.

“I can feel you touching yourself, you dirty girl.” he husked, his dirty talk in the deep voice of his made you clench around him, and you know Will could feel it, he confirms your thought when he speaks again.

“You like this don’t you? Getting fucked hard, huh? I can feel your pussy constantly clench around me. Begging for more and more.”

“Yes.” you sobbed, before you choke “Will, I’m so close.” out. You didn’t think Will could move faster and harder than he already does, but he speed up from your words, and he’s fucking you even harder than before. You’re sure that he will leave marks on you, but you don’t care because this is the best fucking thing you ever felt as Will’s long, thick cock is slamming inside of you, hard, and with every trust his head is rubbing against that one spot inside of you what makes your toes curl and vision fade black, and how his hands land on your ass, slapping it, not hard, but it’s enough to make you jump a little and make your cheeks red, and the way how he’s pulling your hair, keeping you in place, and oh, your hand, the way how your fingers are so easily sliping over your fleshy pink skin, so soaked from your wetness you physically feel it dripping from you, down to your thighs. 

As your things shake even more than before, you finally feel all the tension leave your body as you dissolve into pleasure, falling, screaming, shattering. 

Overwhelmed, you collapse on the couch, chest rising and falling rapidly as you try to catch your breath, and your heart pounds so hard and fast, Will can see it under your skin. 

Your eyes are still closed as you just lay on the couch, in total bliss, when you feel Will’s lips on your cheek, giving you soft kisses. 

“You’re so beautiful like this. All flushed, and relaxed from the pleasure.” he whispers, his lips touching your face. 

You turn your head to kiss him, it’s gentle and loving, and you both need a soft moment like this. When you break the kiss, you open your eyes to see Will is still fully erect and he didn’t cum yet. You sit up, and Will stands up too so his throbbing erection is right in front of your face, standing proudly. 

You look up at Will, making sure you keep eye contact with him as you slowly run your tongue over your bottom lips before you lean forward and take him in your mouth. Will throws his head back with a loud groan, you know he’s close to coming from fucking you, and now your mouth around him, so you put all the effort into sucking him just like he did with fucking you, wanting to make him feel just as good as he made you feel. 

You grab his muscular thigh to support yourself as you start bobbing your head around him, swirling your tongue around him, running your tongue over his veins and head, making sure you suck hard when you reach his tip. 

“Just like that, yes.” Will moans as he grabs the back of your head, pushing his hips forwards to meet with your moves, fucking your mouth just like he did with your pussy moments before. You gag around him a few times when he’s pushing his cock down in your throat as far as he can, and you make sure you swallow around him every time his cock is deep in your throat, to intensify his pleasure, until his whole body trembles and his cock is pulsating in your mouth, filling it with his cum, making you swallow every drop he gave you. 

You let Will’s cock go with a loud ‘pop’, saliva dripping from your mouth what Will wipes with his thumb. 

Exhausted, but satisfied, both of you lay down on the couch as you enjoy your pure bliss. 

“We need to do this again.” you breathe.

“Give me 20 minutes and we can repeat this in bed.”

“Deal.” you turn to Will to cuddle him.

“But just to know, we are going to shopping tomorrow.” you warn him.

“If you’ll try on some lingerie for me, then I’m in.” 

“Anything you want.” you reply, and kiss him sweetly.

Tags: @innerpaperexpertcloud​ @lady-evans​ @agirllovespasta​ @claudiahxrdy​ @keithseabrook27​ @alexa-rae-dreamz​ @minnicelli​ @woahitslucyylu​ @de-profundis-ad-astra​ @mylifeliterally​ @happyhenners​

[cloudninetonine]

Follow the light

Prologue

Synopsis: A Genshin Impact/Avatar x fem!reader

A/N: Yeah, so, this is becoming a series (NO I AM NOT ABANDONING MY DBH STORY I AM JUST WRITING FOR MORE)

I don’t Genshin Impact nor Avatar franchise

Warnings: Nothing in this one I believe

“I can help you”

Through the swarm of darkened red and black, you could see him. Face stricken with panic, eyes wide and hand reaching out, out to you, whose vision was slowly fading from the myriad of her blocks, impairing your vision at a frantic pace.

This couldn’t have been right, possibly? She had already taken him, he had disappeared right before you eyes before she had dealt with you. So, what was this?

The voice called out again.

“But first, you must find me, only then, can we truly begin our journey”

He was almost gone, you were almost swallowed by the darkness, but you couldn’t leave him behind, you wouldn’t!

You used all the remaining strength within you to reach out to him, to grab him, to- anything! You didn’t want him to disappear again!

“No! You can’t take him, give him back!”

Your begging fell on deaf ears, only a single crack of light remained, his fear stricken gaze burning right into your soul.

“Please, (Name), find the light, find me, find Raava….”

You couldn’t lose him again!

“Give him back! Give me back my brother!-”

“Aether!”

“Hey, (Name), wake up already!”

The voice was loud. Super loud. A kind of loud that made your ears ring and ground your teeth together, that kind of loud. By the sounds of it, they were obviously right next to your ear, wailing out your name like the world around you was up in flames, burning away at your surroundings in a harrowing chaos.

But within consciousness, came sense and with sense, awareness of one’s surroundings. You knew that there was no fire, it was certainly warm in your space, but it was from the proud sun that leaked in through your window, particularly weak in the early hours of the morning, nevertheless still just as cosy.

“(Name), come on!!!!”

Your body was jolted by a pair of small hands, shaking you back and forth violently, even when you finally popped an eye open, glaring at the figure with an exhausted frustration.

Hair was white, thick and cropped around her face with dark purple eyes that shone in the early light, small, fair body floating just a few inches above you, hands rocking you violently in an effort to have you awake. Furthermore, She was pouting, cheeks puffed out, eyes narrowed- the whole works and she let out a huff when noticing your stare.

“Finally!” The small person cried, poking at your cheek “Do you know how deep you sleep!? Paimon’s pretty sure she woke up everyone else in the temple with her yelling!”

“More like screeching.” You sassed, whisking on a drowsy grin “You sound like a banshee, Pai.”

Paimon gasped in offence “You take that back! Paimon sounds nothing like that!”

“Whatever you say.”

Finally, you heaved yourself out of bed, glancing around your room nonchalantly with Paimon yammering on in an outrage, her arms waving around wildly as she spoke.

Raava. The word echoed in your head, resolute and strong as you went about your morning routine, mind focused only on what it could mean. A name? A place? Some sort of item? You had no clue, couldn’t properly fathom it, not with the little information the voice had been giving you. Who even was the voice? Was it this Raava? Also how were you supposed to find...them? You truly were stumped.

But the picture of Aether, of his wide, panic struck eyes, hand reaching out towards you was tugging at your hope. That promise, the words of “I can help you” tugged at your hope. If they could really help you, if you could finally find your brother, you were gonna pursue this and you were going to find your answers.

“Hey! Are you even listening?!”

“Nope” You responded, tying your belt around your attire.

“(Name)!”

Laughing, you patted down your outfit, then grasped Paimon’s hand gently, tugging her closer to your level. “I’m sorry, I’ve just been preoccupied.”

She tilted her head “Is it because of your dream?”

The shock in her words was probably evident on your face because a second later she continued, her face sympathetic “You called out your brother’s name again.”

Oh.

“Are you okay?” A nod wasn’t enough to satisfy her worry “Are you sure? You can tell Paimon!”

“I know, I know.” Patting her hand, you finally pulled away and headed to the door, her following close behind. 

The Eastern Air Temple was a beautiful place. Standing tall and proud within the center of a archipelago, the temple was a ways off from the mainland of Teyvat, mostly secluded from the rest of the world to allow the Air Nomads to practice their way of life peacefully, away from the noise of the other nations, just like the other Air temples.

You had awoken here after your battle with the Unknown God, dazed and weak, the Air Nomads had taken you in and had practically integrated you into the life of Air. It had been coming up to four years, learning the ways of this world, the language, the culture, until 2 months ago, when you had found Paimon, splashing about off the shore of one of the surrounding islands, close to drowning.

You had fished her out yourself, her introducing herself as a spirit of guidance and you had been friends since.

“Hey, Pai, actually” The two of you had been heading to congregate with the other nuns for morning meditation when you had finally found the courage to turn to your partner, her eyes focused onto you when you both paused “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course!” Her hands rested on her hips “You can ask Paimon anything! Except things she doesn’t know, you’d have to ask someone else about that”

Your laugh made her grin triumphantly.

“Well, I don’t know if this is in your knowledge or not, but, I wanted to ask if you know what...Raava is?”

Paimon’s reaction was instant. Her face overfilled with shock and confusion, blinking owlishly at your slowly tensing figure before finally she was able to speak once again.

“Raava” She started, oddly serious despite her constant giddy nature “Was the spirit of light and peace, she kept the world safe from darkness and chaos”

You hesitated before asking tentatively “Was?”

“She was killed 2 thousand years ago”

The words hit you hard.

Raava was dead? The thing, which you had finally found was a spirit, was dead? And had been for 2 thousand years!? Then what happened now!? What did that dream even mean now!? If Raava was dead how could you possibly find her!?

“Are….are you sure?” At Paimon’s nod, you deflated, falling back into the staircase wall with a sigh “Then...what did the dream mean?”

“Your dream? You said it was about your brother!” She chastised, puffing out her cheeks.

“It was! But some voice kept telling me I needed to find this Raava and I-”

“Wait, wait, wait-” Shaking her hands before her, Paimon leaned closer. She still seemed just as serious as previous, though from the light that was gathering in her eyes, she seemed a little...hopeful, like whatever you would next say were like a present for her that you were hiding behind your back “Your dream said to find Raava?”

“Yes, that’s why I asked-”

“Was there anything else?”

You paused “It mentioned that Raava could possibly help me find Aether”

Silence hung for a few moments, Paimon’s face uncomfortably close to yours as you shared intense eye contact. A few other nuns walked past, watching in intrigue as the exchange went on, but not doing much else before Paimon finally reacted, screaming in delight and dancing around you excitedly, as though you had told her you two were having a ten course meal.

“Finally! Finally!” She cried, hooting loudly “She’s finally returned! She’s finally back!”

“What-” You yelped when she grabbed your hand, dragging you in the direction of the meditation area “Paimon! I thought you said she was dead!?”

“I’ll explain later but we need to tell Nun Tsering the news!”

-----

Nun Tsering was one of the leading nuns of the Eastern Temple. She stood tall amongst the rest with long, beautiful grey hair that was tied in traditional nomad fashion and kind grey eyes that seemed to put every single person she talked to at ease. The woman had taken the role as your teacher and friend, a respectful woman that you had grown to care for during your time within the temple, she even knew about your past, with your brother, with the unknown God, everything.

So, when the two of you had finally arrived for morning meditation, Paimon claiming urgency, she guided you two away from the other nuns for a private chat without needing much else.

“So, what was so urgent, you two?” She mused as you walked in the gardens “You looked as though you had been chased by a swarm of lemurs”

Paimon got to it first, eyes wide with excitement “Raava has returned!”

That stopped Tsering right in her tracks.

Paimon went to continue but you stopped her with a motion of your hand, looking upon your master’s surprised face with lacking confidence. “Paimon is getting ahead of herself, but, I did have a dream about finding her, a voice told me I needed to find Raava, that she could help me find Aether, but...I don’t know…”

Your spirit friend huffed but once again she was stopped, this time by Tsering, who bore an expression of significance. “The voice, did it say anything else?”

“I, uh-” You thought back to the dream, to your brother, to the voice “It mentioned something about a journey but it didn’t specify much other than it being….our journey.”

Her eyes widened.

“Tsering-”

“Follow me.”

Once again, you were taken to an entirely different place within the temple, practically running after Tsering’s rushed steps with Paimon right behind, the two of you sharing a look of confusion until you had finally reached a door, with the pattern of the air surrounded by some weird contraption. The nomad was quick to send a blast of wind into two tubes, a large creak of the wood echoing all around you as it opened, revealing to you a giant room, filled with an abundance of statues, every single one different from the last.

“Woah!” Paimon cried as you entered, flying around to examine each with interest “These are the past Avatars!”

“Avatar? What’s that?” Following Tsering to the center, where the statues began to spiral into the middle, to where a single one that stood, you became more and more confused “Tsering, what’s going on?”

The Nun looked upon the statue with an emotion you couldn’t decipher, brushing away at the statue’s shoulders with a special care before she finally spoke “(Name), many eons ago, before the Archon wars, before the nations- any of the nations, there was a man named Wan.”

Wan….Why did it feel like you knew that name?

“He was the first Avatar.” She explained, “A man held the power of the four elements.”

“...but you told me a person can only bend one element?”

She finally turned to face you “Normal humans can only wield one element, but Wan wasn’t a normal human.”

Within the sanctuary, among the many statues, Tsering told the story of the Avatar. From Wan’s mistake, to his journey with Raava, to fighting and sealing Vaatu and the Avatar cycle. For hours, you sat, listening to your master as she spoke of the tales of the Avatars, all the way up until the Archon Wars, to…

“Avatar Ly was the last Avatar.” Looking up at the statue from your spots on the floor, Tsering bowed her head in respect “She was born into the violence of the Archon War and pledge to the people that she would be the one to stop this conflict once and for all.”

“Let me guess” You started, feeling your heart squeeze painfully “She died while in the Avatar state.”

The nun nodded solemnly “She was killed in a battle between Morax and Osial. She had to sacrifice herself in order to protect Liyue, but she could only use the power of the Avatar state to do so and it resulted in the death of Ly, Raava and the end of the Avatar cycle. It was said that Morax was burdened with much guilt over her death and erected a statue in her honour on Mt. Tianheng so that Liyue would forever know their saviour”

You took everything in with a breath, absorbing the information when Paimon finally cut in, her silence through this entire predicament a weird contrast to her usual self. “But, what does the Avatar have to do this?”

Actually, you had been wondering this as well, though kept silent during Tsering’s explanation, waiting for her to explain.

Her face was unwavering “I believe that Raava has chosen (Name) to be the next Avatar”

Your expression was comical, a mix of unbelieving and confused, trying to comprehend her words while Paimon openly gawked, shaking her arms and flying around like a headless chicken, babbling.

“But that’s crazy! (Name)’s not even from this world, forget about being a bender! Why would she pick (Name) to be the new Avatar!?”

You huffed “Thanks Paimon.”

“You’re welcome!”

“I know it’s hard to understand.” Tsering sent you a sympathetic smile “But it would make sense as to why Raava would reveal herself to you.”

“Reveal herself? But I haven’t even met her yet!” You cried incredulously.

“But (Name), you have. Who else would have spoken to you within your dream?”

She did have a point.

You cast your head downwards.

“I know this sounds rude but...I don’t want to be the Avatar, I don’t have time for a responsibility like that. I have to find my brother, I need to find this Unknown God too, I can’t just…”

You hated how the words came out, how it all sounded, but it was the truth. You didn’t want this power, you didn’t want that responsibility, you were already starting your own journey, now healed from your battle and understanding this world, you were soon to be on your way to find your brother and get your own power back.

Why did Raava pick you?

A warm hand was placed upon your shoulder and you looked up at the nun, uncertain.

“I know you are afraid, (Name), I can sense it from you, but you mustn’t” Her other hand came to rest on your cheek, wiping away the small tears that had gathered in your eyes “Raava is a kind spirit, if she has chosen you then there must be a good reason, you just have to ask.”

“But how?”

The nun smiled, leaning back to take a meditating stance. You followed.

“Close your eyes, focus and clear you mind.” Her voice was smooth and kind “If Raava was able to speak to you within your dream, it means that she is already with you, you just have to find her.”

“That��.doesn’t really make sense.”

Her chuckle made you smile “It will, now focus.”

The sanctuary was very quiet, the only sound produced from the room was from the wind that flew in from down the hall, soft, almost inaudible, but you could hear it’s silent howl through the room, feel it surround the three of you as you meditated, feeling it’s calming effect wash over you.

Everything around you seemed to fade as time went on, the feeling of Tsering and Paimon disappeared entirely, the blow of the wind no longer cooled your skin, nor did it’s voice caress your ears, no, everything felt like...nothing and with that, you opened your eyes, only to be greeted with what you had sensed, nothing.

“Huh?” You span around, breaking your position to search for you friends in a panic, anxiety growing within the pit of your stomach “Hello!? Tsering!? Paimon!? Anybody!?”

No, no, you didn’t want to be alone. You couldn’t be alone. Someone had always been with you for so long, there was always a presence beside you, but no there wasn’t and you felt helpless, scared, desperate, a hopeless flurry of emotions.

You didn’t want to be abandoned again.

“They have not abandoned you, (Name).” 

That voice.

“And you are not alone.”

Her voice.

Your span back around, watching as a lightly slowly approached you, bright and calming.

“I am here with you.”

“Raava.” You breathed, unconsciously cupping out your hands towards her, letting her settle into your hold as you brought her closer to you almost protectively “You’re Raava.”

“Yes.”

Managing a small smile, you laughed “You’re smaller than I imagined.”

Her laugh surrounded you, warm, loving, bright and...peaceful. The spirit was different that you imagined, she felt like...a light within the darkness, pun not intended, but she felt as though she was a way out, like she was here to save you from your own unintentional prison, from your despair. She made you feel...safer, not entirely safe, but most definitely safer.

“(Name), I first want to thank you.” You furrowed your brows “Your spirit, it’s divinity, you were able to bring me back from death. I have returned because of you.”

“But I lost my power?”

“Before your power was lost, when you had visited our world, your’s and your brother’s power had brought forth enough light to save me. It would have taken another 8 thousand years for me to return, so for that, you have my thanks.”

The words lightened your entire being, bringing forth a teary eyed smile. You knew for sure, had Aether been here, he would have been the one in tears, he was soft like that, gratitude filled him with such a happiness that always seemed to rub off onto you too.

You missed your brother so much.

“But, I still require your help.” The spirit flew from your hands, reaching your eye level “I still do not have my full power, there had not been enough time after death to return me to my former self and I need your help.”

“What, how?”

Images flashed in your mind, statues, multiple states, all with a different figure carved into it’s pinnacle. “The statues hold the power of the Archons within them, if we were to find them, I would be able to use a fragment of their power to restore my own strength. So, will you help me once more, (Name)?”

It wasn’t a difficult question, but it did lead to a difficult answer. You wanted to help her, you wanted to help restore her former glory, but you already had your own mission, you had to find your brother, you wanted to find your brother and you couldn’t do that if your time was invested in helping Raava.

However, thinking back to your dream, you remembered her words, her promise.

“Raava, you said before, in my dream, that you could help me find my brother, is that true?”

“It is.”

Your heart skipped a beat.

“(Name), in return for saving my life, for bringing me back, I want to repay you and if that is to help find your brother, then that is what I will do.” She seemed to shine brighter, the light filling the area, reflecting off your eyes. “Merge with me, (Name), help me restore my strength and we will find your brother, together.”

You gasped, leaning you hand out once again only to stop short “If we merge, I’ll become the next Avatar, won’t I?”

“That is correct.”

“But I can’t even bend.”

“The power of the elements still resides within me.” She replied “It is weak, but it will be enough. Once I am back to my full strength, you will have the power of a true Avatar.”

That was all you needed. Finally, your hand made contact with the spirit, her light growing along with yourself until the void had vanished, leaving a blinding shine throughout the space.

Tsering and Paimon watched as your eyes finally snapped open, glowing a brilliant white that echoed through the room before they faded, staring at the two before you with a giddy grin.

Paimon cheered while your master smiled, her hand returning to your shoulder 

“Welcome back, Avatar.”

[haikyuu-sickfics]

Vomit warning!

I feel bad about how poorly written my first Suna centric fic was so heres attempt #2

First it was Atsumu who came down with the horrible bug.  Though, thanks to his whiny nature, the abnormality in his condition was noticed quickly by his family. The early detection of the ailment allowed for him to not leave the house and spread his illness throughout the school- or worse his team.

This plan had one weak spot though.

That weak spot had a name, and a position on the volleyball team the Miya's tried so hard to keep healthy.

Though they struck luck, in a way.  Thanks to Osamu's reserved nature, it seemed that no one on the team was at risk of contagion.

No one but the only person closer to Osamu than Atsumu.

Rintarou.

The two were practically joined at the hip, if one of them was having a bad day- they both were.  If one of them sprained their ankle, magically the other did as well.  And, obviously, if one of them got sick, the other would definately catch it.

But they didn't get sick, one of the pros of being an observer and not a engager- like Atsumu.

"If ya got me sick I swear to everything I'm gonna pummel yer head in," Osamu threatened as his dull headache throbbed on the walk to school.

"Okay lemme just," Atsumu pursed his lips and sucked in as though a straw was in his mouth.

"The fuck was that?"

"Oh I'm just sucking all the sickness out of you because appearantly I can control where that shit goes," Atsumu sassed.

His attitude dropped quickly after recieving a knock on the head by his twin.

"The hell was that for?"

"You had immunity while you were sick, I've been holding that in for so damn long."

Atsumu pouted, absentmindedly rubbing the sore spot on his head and distancing himself a bit from his walking partner.

Todays walk to school felt significantly longer and more treacherous today, the suns rays beating down harder than they ever had, enveloping Osamu into a sweaty unwanted hug and injecting grogginess into his every movement.

Atsumu didn't point out Osamu's slow movements, fear of another rutheless attack providing more than enough restraint.

The sight of the schools familiar architechture proved a very welcomed sight to the both of them.  Atsumu waved goodbye before hurrying to join his group of friends, desperate to get away from his twin.

Osamu mumbled some line about his brothers rudeness before beginning the search for Rintarou.

They usually met up outside of their shared class, but Osamu wished to talk with him earlier.  As much as he disliked falling behind in work, there was no way he would be able to make it through a full day of school.  Having the same train of thought as Osamu, Rintarou was pacing to the left of the enterance, slender eyes scanning for the formers familiar presence.

Once the two caught eye contact they quickly walked up to eachother.

"Where did you say your brother has been?" Rintarou question immediately.

"Stomach bug," Osamu replied sullenly, knowing where this conversation was headed.

"Ok and did he sleep on the couch or something?"

"Nope, he stayed in our room because the couch was 'too hot,'" he surrounded the last bit with air quotes.

"So do you think-"

"That I caught it?  Yes," Osamu knew enough about his body to know that the bubbling sensation in his stomach was a sign of some sort of ailment.

"So it's contagious," Rintarou confirmed.

"Mhm."

Rintarou groaned, burying his face in his hands.  The moment he woke up with nausea pummeling down on him, his subconsious knew what had happened.  But it took Osamu strengthening his theory to make him sure

"So... are you going to school today?  Maybe you should stay home, I could walk you and make sure you get there safe," Rintarou hid his own eagerness to skip school by masking it with Osamu's.

"Yea okay."

Smiling inwardly at this small victory, Rintarou began the familiar trek to the Miya house.  The walk was blessfully short, the cool morning air and light traffic cruising by singing a soft lullaby.  By the time the house came into view, the two were practically sleep walking.

"M' moms not home, she missed a lotta work last week," Osamu informed between yawns.

Rintarou nodded, a small part of him hoped that the eldest Miya would be present,  her presence was always comforting and her extense experience in the ways of parenthood allowed for her to always know exactly what to do next.

Honestly, Rintarou really needed her right now, he hated to admit it but she was the closest thing he had to a mother figure, and doesn't everyone want to be nurtured when they're sick?

"When's she coming back," he asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

Osamu shrugged, slipping his key into the lock on the door and turning it.

"Dunno, she usually gets off at like 5 but she might stay longer to catch up."

Biting his inner cheek to suffocate his dissapointment, Rintarou followed Osamu into his house.

"I'll go make soup," Rintarou offered as Osamu dissapeared down the hall.

"Ugh no!  I've had soup for the past week, just make some sandwhiches or something."

That didn't sound like the best sick-day meal, but hey, it wasn't his house.

Rintarou knew his way around the Miya's kitchen as if it were his own, allowing him to effortlessly find the ingredients for a simple fruit sandwich.

With the two snacks on a plate, Rintarou walked down the hall to the twin's room where Osamu was huddled under the blankets on his bed, back to the door.

"I have food."

"Mneh."

"Yea ok."

Rintarou gently placed the food on a dresser before sitting next to Osamu on his bed.

"How you feeling?"

"Like shit," Osamu groaned, peeking his head out of the safety of his covers, "you?"

"Tired."

Osamu scooched over, pressing himself against the wall and patting the now empty space next to him, "then sleep."

Rintarou nodded thankfully before tucking himself under the blankets and curling into a ball on his side.  The bed was hot, or was that just him?  He didn't know anymore.  All he knew was that these blankets kept every degree of body heat trapped under its fibers, sticking it to the sweat beading on the both of their body's.

"Do you have shorts and a tank I could borrow?" Rintarou asked, tugging at the collar of his uniform.

"Mhm," Osamu lightly pushed Rintarou out of the bed before pulling himself up.

He rocked in place for a moment, eyes shut and jaw clenched and relaxing periodically.

"You good?"

Osamu held a finger up, waiting for the spell to pass.  It didn't pass.  He sat down quickly on the edge of the bed, elbows braced on his knees holding his head in his hands.

"No no no, not now," Rintarou scanned to room for a bag or bucket or anything that would keep Osamu from making a mess.

The only thing he could find was Atsumu's old sport duffle.

Better than nothing.

Rintarou grabbed it, not even checking to see if it was empty before thrusting it onto Osamu's lap.

A smile flashed behind Osamu's eyes as he imagine how pissed his twin would be when he saw this.

His devious joy didn't last for long though as his barely digested breakfast came barreling up his throat.  Lips parting slightly, a light wave of disgustingly sour stomach contents splashed into Atsumu's property.

"He's gonna be," Osamu passed to stifle a burp, "pissed y'know."

Rintarou hummed, purposely staring in the opposite direction.

Before Osamu could ask of his friends wellbeing, vomit took the place of words and a thicker wave of cereal landed on top of the previous with a sickening splat.

Rintarou walked out of the room at this, his head spinning with intense nausea.  He took deep breaths, trying desperately to calm his stomach long enough for him to make it to the toilet without incident.  The smell of fruit lingering on his hands assaulted Rintarou's nose as he covered his mouth.  A quick gag tore its way out, pressing ruthlessly against his stomach as the boys legs threatened to collapse beneath him.

He tried so hard to make it.  The bathroom was right there, he could see the door knob, practically touch it.  So close to turning it and entering into the clean comfort of the cool tiled floor and porceline bowl.  He didn't make it.

Of course he didn't.

Rintarou's inner struggle forced it's way out to paint the restroom door a dark abstract splash.

"The fuck was that?" Osamu called after hearing the splash.

Rintarou groaned, wanting nothing more than to sink into the floor below him and allow dirt to hug every crevice of his body.  Maybe if he sat still enough that would happen.  Or maybe enough dust would accumilate to hide his existance from the rest of the world, just another speck of dirt on the floor.

That was unreasonable thinking.  There was no avoiding the cold hard fact about what had just happened.  Rintarou just repayed the years of hospitality from the Miya's by decorating their interior with whatever the hell he ate the last handful of hours.

A sob forced it's way out before he had a chance to stop it.

It was at this moment he realized he had outstayed his welcome.  Sinking to the floor and giving up on the idea of going to the bathroom, Rintarou curled into a ball- his mind a blur of fever and frantic thoughts.  The floor felt uncomfortably comfortable, maybe it was the knowledge that this may be the last time he would ever know the bliss of touching the floor of this house.  The last time he'll be allowed to make sandwhiches in the kitchen a short walk away.  The last time he'll be allowed to cuddle up with Osamu and stay up late watching videos without headphones, much to the chagrin of Atsumu.

More tears forced their way out, completely distracting Rintarou from the fact that he was sick at all.  The only thing he felt right now was remorse and pure sadness.  His chest heaved as breath refused to come normally.

A goldball edged with burning metal was lodged deep in his throat, attracting his stomach contents with a strong magnetic pull but refusing it to go all the way up.  He coughed desperatly, trying to rid of the horrendous feeling plaguing his upper body or at the very least dislodge the ball.  It worked, not in the way he had hoped for, but relief was provided nontheless as the cough brought up another wave of sick to splash down between his chest and knees.

The door pushed open at this moment.

"Hello?  Is anybody home?  The doors unlocked."

Rintarou's breath caught as the familiar feminine voice reached his cotton stuffed ears.  His body froze with icy terror, trying his best to stay completely still and camoflauge into the wall.

"Ma?" Osamu's voice yelled out, ""M here with Rin, I think we're sick."

Rintarou shook his head as Osamu outed him and delicate footsteps made their way closer.

"No no no no no," he whispered to himself, eyes squeezed shut as if to force himself awake.

"Oh dear," Osamu's mother commented as Rintarou's pityful sight came into view.

"'M sorry, I'll clean it, I tried to make it, I'll leave when it's clean, I can run down to the store for supplies," he began his semi rehereased spiel.

"Sweetheart, no," she made her way closer to him, eyebrows furrowed in concern as tears ebbed the edges of her eyes, "It's alright, it's not your fault you feel like this."

She rubbed his hair away from his forehead before using her soft thumb to wipe his tears away.

"Let's get you cleaned up, hm?" She gently scooped her arms under his shoulder before opening the bathroom door and lowering him onto the toilet seat. "I'll grab some clothes and water, feel free to use the paper towels to wipe yourself down.

Rintarou didn't respond, too ashamed to look her in the eyes even to thank her.  He knew he was only making the situation worse, the absolute least the mother deserved was a heartfelt thanks.

So he just sat there, frown etched deeply on his face and eyes glued to the floor as the Miya went to check on her biological son.

Osamu was much neater looking, his mess had all been contained within Atsumu's sporting bag.  Still, his face was a mess.  A deep flush decorated his sickly pale skin which was glistening with thin beads of sweat and tears of exertion.

"Oh, did ya catch what 'Tsumu had?" She asked, sitting next to him and rubbing between his shoulder blades.

He nodded with a pout, leaning onto his mother's forehead who was working on zipping up the bag and setting it on the floor.

"Do you feel a little better now?"

He nodded.

"Great, would you please help me with a couple things?  I hate to make you do stuff, but I just need to get Rintarou a new set of clothes and I would hate to rummage around your closet.

Osamu nodded once more, standing up to search for suitable clothes as his mother took the soiled bag outside.  Once it was properly disposed of (next to the door to be dealt with later) she grabbed a couple rags, some cleaning solution and a bucket.

When she arrived to the bathroom, Osamu was already there with the clothes, trying to hand them to a refusing Rintarou.

"C'mon it;'s okay, please wear them."

Rintarou refused, fresh tears streaming down his face as his lips frowned deeply.

"I don't," he sniffed, struggling to speak between rapid breaths, "I don't deserve them."

"Don't be silly!" The eldest assured, quickly standing in front of Rintarou- forcing him to look into her caring, concerned eyes, "Please put them on, as long as you're under this roof- you're a Miya and you get the Miya-family-treatment whether you like it or not!"

Rintarou clenched his jaw, appreciation and love flooding through him in a way which only these people had ever been able to make him feel.  He had longed for this all of his childhood, the caring presence of an adult who wanted nothing but the best for you.  Who didn't care about how much of a mess you made, how rude you had been.  Someone who looked past all his faults and cared- truly cared- for the person beneath it all.

"Thank you," Rintarou finally whispered, a sad happiness taking over his expression as he collected the change of clothes, "Thank you so much."

The mother hugged him close, not caring about whatever may stain her shirt at this point.

"Anytime."

[babyboy-cody]

‘ ‘ chapter | 01 ’ ’

complex desires. ( prologue ) ( masterlist )

SUMMARY: It’s the first week of classes after winter break, but you’re not exactly used to seeing new faces - teachers and students in between.

WARNINGS: explicit language, mentions of mental disorders, anxious thoughts, anxiety attack

WORD COUNT: 2.8k

NOTES: i’m currently writing this chapter while drinking a big ass mug of hot cocoa. also, hunter’s pronouns are they/them! this series is one i’m most excited for. hope you kiddies enjoy <3

It was still early when the clouds gave off their rain to the grass and trees, when the road became alive with more splashes than your eyes could appreciate. Yet together they brought such a soothing sound, a natural melody every bit as beautiful as a mother's soulful hum. You felt each splash that touched your skin, watching as your cardigan become a deeper, more rocky hue. It was as if earlier the street had been a matte photograph, only to be washed as glossy as any magazine page.

Each raindrop is a kaleidoscope, if people could only see more closely. You wonder as you walk how it would be to stop time, to suspend this watery gift and peek through each one. Perhaps it would be fun to sit inside those raindrops and take that gravity propelled ride to the earth, as you imagine it you feel your inner self laughing – a little at the crazy daydream and a little at your own silliness. You see the rain beads upon the cars, upon each leaf and washing your outstretched fingers. Soon they will pull together, forming the puddles, opening up a whole new avenue of rain-related fun. Perhaps it isn't normal to love a rainy day so much, but who cares about normal anyway? You’re pretty sure "normal" is a made up thing.

Upon the umbrella come the playful sounds of dancing drops, and from it's rim comes the sight of their more relaxed cousins, dripping as if their soul purpose was to bring a sense of ease and calm to the day. And as the rain became more intense, it began to soak the bottom of each dark blue jean leg, deepening the denim to a stronger hue, bringing your brown boots to a glossy water-shine, becoming a kind of natural cocoon.

Each raindrop is a doorway into nature's heart, an invitation of sorts, a request for your soul to rejoin creation. In the rain there is a serenity, a sense of peace that offers to resonate with the peaceful elements of the soul. Walking among those drops is your meditation, a way to fully become present in the moment, a way to feel free.

There was a vibration coming to life in the back pocket of your jeans, cutting you out of your peaceful daydream in the rain. You stepped to the side to allow a cyclist to pass by and gave him a brief smile when he nodded his head in thanks. When you pulled out your phone to read the contact, you instantly smiled when seeing Mickey’s name on the screen.

“Okay, first off, hello. Second off, where the hell are you? Me and Hunter – okaayy – Hunter and I have been in the cafeteria since 7:15 in the goddamn morning,” she immediately went off as soon as you put the phone to your ear. “Also, did you take your meds today? My alarm went off as a reminder.”

“First off, hi back, Mick. Second off, it’s been 15 minutes and I’m five minutes away from the school. It’s fine if we don’t have breakfast today just once,” you laughed as you heard her scoff. “And thirdly, yes mom, I did take my meds. I actually have to get another refill for my BPD meds. Thank you for asking.”

“Yeah, yeah. Well, you better hurry. We have the last of your favorite yogurt and Hunter’s close to eating the damn thing,” you heard Mickey laugh as she shushes her significant other. “Also, be careful coming around the usual entrance. The school is doing some bogus construction to add a statue of the principal.”

“You’re shitting me!” You exclaimed, earning a dirty glare from a tiny senior citizen as she slowly walks passed you with her small cane. “What the hell did this prick do to earn that? Also, can you grab me a fruit cup too? I’ve been craving kiwi’s for some odd reason.”

“Well, he’s wicked rich and can basically do anything in this school and get away with it, literally. And there’s no fruit cups today, but there’s a bag of sliced apples and tangerine slices,” Mickey told you as she huffed, which you assume is her getting out of her seat to go back to the assortment of breakfast foods. “Ooh, there’s bagels too. I think they just added these.”

“Jesus Christ, this statue is stupid as hell,” you groaned and stood in front of the half built statue, your principal’s name on a gold plated plaque attached to the marble. “This guy really needs an ego boost, huh? And just tangerine slices then. I’m heading inside.”

“Alright, see you soon, baby doll.” She annoyingly kisses into the phone as you snorted and rolled your eyes at her antics.

Sliding your phone back into your pocket, you stood outside the entrance doors and shook the leftover raindrops from your yellow umbrella before closing it. You inhaled the fresh rain water for one last time before grasping onto the freezing cold and disgustingly wet doorknob and pulling it open to head inside. There was a small litter of students here and there; some reading new announcements on the bulletin board in the main hall; some sitting in the lounging chairs with laptops or textbooks open on their laps; some sitting on the ground with a half empty bottle of water beside their laps and phones in their hands, headphones in their ears. You terribly, annoyingly, and oddly missed this. You missed the bustle of students laughing and running down the halls. You missed it all, even if it has been two weeks.

You hear loud chatter coming from just ahead, so you know you’re about to enter the cafeteria area. Just as you’re about to do so, you stop in your tracks in front of a bulletin board. There were a few posters for new clubs, as well as study groups, upcoming announcements, room changes, and more. But one that really struck out to you was a new story writing group, specifically for writers or English majors. You felt a burst of excitement spread throughout your chest and settle into the pit of your stomach. You made sure to take a quick photo of the sheet beforr moving on into the cafeteria.

Almost immediately, you spotted Hunters straight platinum blonde hair and fiery streaks on one side while the other was icy blue. Sitting in front of them was Mickey, her hair curly and unruly, making you wonder if she rolled out of bed, threw some clothes on, and called it a day. You felt your cheek mucles twitch as your lips pulled up into a bright smile. Hunter was the first to notice you. They looked up at you passed Mickey’s shoulder and smiled so brightly that it made you reciprocate. They adorned bright orange eyeshadow with white eyeliner, making their eyes pop out even more. You loved how they didn’t cake on makeup, they kept it simple, yet so drop dead gorgeous.

“There she is, the man of the hour,” they announced and got up from their seat to pull you in for a warm, tight hug. “I missed you so much. I’m so sorry for not messaging you the entire break. We didn’t have any service whatsoever.” There was a crestfallen look on Hunter’s face and you held their cheeks so they wouldn’t look away.

“Look at me, don’t stress about it, okay? Did you at least have fun?” They nodded with a pout. You grinned and gave their forehead a kiss before pulling them in for another hug.

“Okay, first you’re late. And now you’re stealing my person. I see how it is,” Mickey smirked as you gave her the bird behind Hunter’s back as you both pulled away from the hug. “Hi Y/N.”

“Hi Michelle,” you responded in the same tone as you sat in an empty chair around the table. “Give me my tangerine, please.” She passed you the small cup of tangerine slices with a grin when you began eating them.

“You been eating three times a day?” She asked you, looking at you through her mane of curls rather than pushing her hair away. You shrugged and kept your eyes on the half empty cup in your hands. “Y/N..”

“I’m doing it little by little, Mick. And I’m starting to drink water too,” you blushed and laughed softly when her and Hunter began praising you. Praise was something you weren’t used to, but hearing it every now and then really gave you butterflies. “It’s nothing..”

“Are you kidding me?” Hunter laughed and reached over to lay a hand over yours. “This is amazing. This is progress and we’re both so very proud of you.”

“You’ve come a long way,” Mickey lightly bumped your shoulder with her knuckles as Hunter pulled away. “You should do a meal plan like I did when I had to get my weight back up, so that way you don’t forget to eat three times a day.”

“I don’t know.. I don’t exactly have the funds to buy a lot of groceries. I had to use over $100 of my food stamps cause almost everything in my kitchen was old,” you huffed and popped another tangerine slice into your mouth. “Plus, I’ve been busy with finding a job and paying for my therapy appointments and doing school work, and it’s all so fucking overwhelming.”

The first bell rang, signaling students to begin their walk to class with only a few more minutes to spare. You grabbed your shoulder bag and stood beside Mickey while she held onto Hunter’s hand. The three of you passed by a swarm of students; freshman’s and sophomores running by to get to the lecture halls early; juniors having their books and laptops already out and pressed to their chests; seniors loitering in the halls with their friends. Thankfully, you, Hunter, and Mickey had your first English class together.

“How about this?” Mickey began. “Hunter and I will help pay for your groceries.” She hushed you as you began to lightly protest. “Listen, you already got a lot on your plate. I’d be a really shitty best friend if I allowed you to deal with all that. So every week, we’re gonna swing by your place to drop off some stuff, okay? I’ll create a meal plan for you with your favorites, so that way we’re taking that worry for money off your back.”

“Mick, you don’t have to do that for me. Like I said, I’ll find a way,” you mumbled and shrugged as you walked up the long staircase to head up to the lecture halls. “I couldn’t do that to you guys.”

“Y/N,” Hunter stopped you three in the middle of the hallway. “We care about you and we don’t want you going down that negative route alone. We both have jobs and enough money to cover Mickey and I, and it’ll seriously make me the happiest if you let us do this, please.”

“Two more minutes until class begins,” the voiceover on the speaker spoke.

“Fine,” you sighed, feeling a smile pull your lips as you all continued walking to the English room. “I love you both. And I’m very grateful for you to do this for me.”

“We know,” Mickey told you as she kissed your cheek obnoxiously, causing you to groan and Hunter to laugh. “But in all seriousness, don’t be a stranger to asking, okay?”

You nodded and gave her a reassuring smile as you made your up the steps to your seats in the bottom middle row. Mickey sat in between you and Hunter as more students filled the class. There was light chatter and soft clatter as seats were pulled down and the folding desks were pulled up. You set your bag between your feet, being cautious of not getting it dirty from your boots. Pulling out your spiral notebook that had four sections, you neatly wrote the course name, your name, and the date. Nervously clicking your pen, you tried to block out the noise that had started to get a little too loud. Nibbling on your bottom lip to distract yourself, your feet began tapping on its own while you tapped your pen on your book. Mickey and Hunter were having a conversation of their own, so they didn’t notice the early signs of a small anxiety attack.

An invisible hand clasps over your mouth; an equally ghostly hypodermic of adrenaline pierces your heart, unloading in an instant. You feel your ribs heaving as if bound by ropes, straining to inflate your lungs. Your head is a carousel of fears spinning out of control, each one pushing your mind into blackness. You want to run; you need to freeze. Sounds that were near feel far away, like you’re no longer in the body that sits paralyzed in the cold seat. Your breath comes out in rapid, shallow breaths as you shake your head at yourself.

“No, no, no,” you harshly whisper as your bobbing knee gets almost frantic.

You felt the panic begin like a cluster of spark plugs in your abdomen. Tension grew your her face and limbs, your mind replaying the last attack. You held onto the sides of your head, your elbows digging into the hardness of your desk. Your only movement was the trembling of your limbs and salty tears darkening your sleeves. There you stayed, unaware of the numerous eyes watching you until Mickey turned and noticed your frantic state.

“Shit,” she hissed and slung her arm across your desk as the other wrapped around your shoulders. “I’m here, Y/N. It’s okay.. sshhh.. I’m right here.” She noticed a few students staring, to which she narrowed her eyes and snarled, “What the fuck are you looking at, dipshits?!” They immediately looked away after being caught. She turned her attention back on you. “What’s going on, huh?” Her voice was soft and soothing as she smoothed her hand down your hair.

“It-It’s so.. loud,” you hiccuped and covered your face even more when a sob escaped your lips, spit flying onto your hands as you felt your neck, cheeks, and ears heat up out of embarrassment and shame. “I can’t stop it, Mick. I-I can’t!”

Hunter sat on the other side of you, reaching down to get your back, shuffling their hand inside to pull out your earplugs and inhaler. They handed the earplugs fo Mickey while pressing the opening of the inhaler to your lips. “Come on, babe,” they quietly told you and tucked a few strands of hair behind your ears, lightly blowing on your flushed skin to cool it down. “There we go,” they gently said when you took two deep puffs of your inhaler while Mickey made sure your earplugs were snug inside your ears. You felt your lungs open up as the cold, bitter medicine settled on your tongue.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper and shook your head, wiping away the last of your tears. You sniffled and looked at Mickey and Hunter. “I-I don’t know what happened.. it just... happened.”

“It’s always unexplained, but don’t be sorry for something you can’t control, okay?” Mickey told you firmly while making sure you were looking into her eyes. “This doesn’t make you any less of a person.”

Hunter smiled and sat your bag back between your feet before moving to their seat next to Mickey. All the students had settled down, their conversations now a quiet murmur. You felt relieved as you pulled your earplugs out and slid them inside your protective case, making sure the lid was closed tight before shoving it into your bag. Mickey kept an eye on you the entire time, making sure no one triggered you. She sat with an elbow resting on the back her chair with her legs lightly spread.

“You’re man-spreading,” you quietly told her, laughing quietly when she flipped you off.

Suddenly, the metal doors opened and a man hurriedly walks in with an expensive looking leather messenger back over his shoulder. Your lips parted and you sat up straight in your seat when he gave the class a guilty smile. You’ve never seen him in the school. Not even before break. He must’ve been in a different department and just got transferred to the English center. He deeply intrigued you. You noticed the other girls in the class twirling their hair in a cliché way with the tips of their pens between their teeth. He wore all black, and it was so very different compared to what other professors wore. There was no sweater vest or button up shirt. He just wore a comfortable and soft looking black sweater with black jeans and black boots. His dirty blonde - almost brunette - hair was perfectly styled. He looked devastatingly handsome.

“Hello, my name is Professor Shepherd and I’m going to be your English teacher for the rest of the semester. Professor Winifred recently had her baby during winter break and shall be back for the next semester,” he gave another knee-weakening grin as he clapped his hands together. “Shall we get started?”

[shattersstar]

i love you and we’re inventing a new way to hold hands

pairing: Jason Todd x Reader  

excerpt: You smiled, you always smiled at him when no one else did. You let your hand fall over his, slowly pushing him off, knees tucking underneath your body as you leaned forward, a hand falling on his chest, nose nudging his and you were so close Jason almost had to go cross eyed to look at you. You let out a breathy laugh, fingers curling into his shirt before you kissed him. 

warnings: canon typical violence, fluff, good communication™️

a/n: teehee a little break from requests because @dukethmas ​ commented “i love you and we’re inventing a new way to hold hands” on this fic and i thought it was very pretty and resonated something deep in me so i thought i’d write something for zohra. It’s mostly a thank u for all ur wonderful comments i could be having the worst day or be tired of writing then u sweep in and just say the sweetest and point out such great things and it makes me love writing so thank u ily

— 

He knew he loved you, it was one of the only things he was sure of. It wasn’t as jarring as he expected it to be, everyone in books and movies were jolted by love—shot by arrows or struck with realization or the words shouted so clearly in their direction—it was meant to catch you off guard. But for him, it crept through his apartment door, nestled on his couch and hung around during movie nights or study sessions, danced through the air when you’d sing purposely loud in the shower and sat on the counter in the kitchen when you bickered over breakfast about coffee or almonds or sleeping in socks of whatever.

So when you kissed him, hard—daring even—the love that had moved into his life was still there and it only smiled. Just like you, smiling wide when he kissed you back, fingers curling into his shirt, wrinkling it even more as he grasped your waist. He never wanted to stop kissing you—that thought was a bit more jarring, but he also hadn’t expected to kiss you, ever. Jason hadn’t really expected to kiss anyone in truth, he wasn’t good at romance, he didn’t even try to be. Sure he could flirt until his tongue fell off, and often shot far more than kind smiles to strangers when out, but romance, love, dating? That was a pipe dream, something he’d ignore in the early mornings when he’d return from patrol battered and bruised and still so fucking broken.

Then you showed up and maybe it was more than a dream. It was a goal. You treated love like that, something to be worked at, achieved, and worked at until your fingers bled and tears stained your cheeks. “Everything is a work in progress.” You’d mutter, half asleep and oddly philosophical at four in the morning. He laughed when you first said in, cheek pressed against his broad chest, the vibrations were warm and made you smile as you blinked up at him, half dazed and eyes glassy. He smiled down at you, nose nudging your forehead, eyes unable to stop themselves from dropping to your sleepy grin before you pressed yourself back against him. You were curled up on the couch, legs tucked underneath you while he sat next to you, Jeopardy muted as you dozed. He watched the show in silence, listening to the shift in your breathing, although it only lasted a few minutes as you head lulled forward unexpectedly, startling you both and waking you up out of your nap.

“Jesus Christ—“ You huffed, as you came to, once again making Jason laugh. You both didn’t comment on the way his hands jumped, ready to catch or hold or whatever, you before falling against his thighs.

“Enjoy your nap?” He teased as you shifted away, palm digging into your eye.

“Shut up. How long did I—“

“Few minutes.”

“I’m probably gonna go home then, I think if I fall asleep here again I won’t like—get up.” You shrugged, swinging your feet to the ground when a hand shot out, resting on your knee.

Jason hadn’t thought before doing, and he was acutely aware of the way his fingers flexed when your eyes dropped to his hand, gripping the fabric of your jeans, fingers long and cold.

He was always cold, even if you never asked you knew why, why he tensed when your shoulders bumped and you’d shudder, or how holding your hand was never an option because of how you’d shiver—arm prickling in goosebumps. You didn’t blame him, why would you, but you knew he didn’t like this odd quirk of his, didn’t like to address, notice it, have it happen. So you ignored it with him.

Until now, until you shuddered for different reasons.

“As comfy as your couch is—“

“No.” He breathed, your eyes moving from his hand to his face, uncertainty hung in your expression.

“No?”

“You can sleep in my bed. With me.”

“Oh.”

“Oh?”

You smiled, you always smiled at him when no one else did. You let your hand fall over his, slowly pushing him off, knees tucking underneath your body as you leaned forward, a hand falling on his chest, nose nudging his and you were so close Jason almost had to go cross eyed to look at you. You let out a breathy laugh, fingers curling into his shirt before you kissed him. He often revisited this moment, when he’d be out of the city, even when it was just a long night and he missed you. Missed you looking at him with so much adoration, letting your lips meet and not flinching away when his hands found your sides, pressing into the soft curves when you let his tongue explore your mouth, both of you pulling away, chests rising and falling visibly. “Okay, I’ll stay.”

And you did, you slept in his bedroom almost every night, even when he moved, the safe house you were used too suddenly a little less safe. You didn’t really move in though, he knew that was never really an option. You couldn’t not have a place to go when you argued or be responsible for it all if he died on patrol, and you needed your apartment so you could put photos of him. He didn’t like them, he never liked looking at himself—he always looked so off.

He was too thin as a kid, even as Robin he was all skin and bone, arms a little too long and hair an unruly mess of curls. Then he came back, tall and broad, but now his hair was streaked in white and his eyes weren’t brown anymore. They were a vivid green, another effect from the pit and he hated them. You had seen photos of him as a kid, the difference was quite stark, the deep auburn they once were now replaced with a gemstone sort of green, sharp and intense. Sometimes you wondered if his eyes were still brown, if they’d bore into your soul the way they do now. You once suggested contacts, the most you ever dared to touch upon the subject, you earned a half scoff, half laugh and shrugged it off.

Although, it was hard to hate his eyes when he got to look at you like this, sleeping in a chair beside his bed as the morning rolled over. It was still blue—everything; the sky, the clouds, the light streaming in, the rain hitting the pavement, the sadness in the air. He had come home half dead and your tears were blue too. Your arms were folded on his mattress, head turned and resting on them. He shifted, recognizing the space as Leslie’s clinic, your blood stained jacket tossed on the small table, his gear next to it. He let his head fall into the pillows, a long breath pushing past his lips. You weren’t ever supposed to see him like this, weren’t supposed to deal with these parts of his life, the parts he kept hidden and stored away, stacking atop of shoulders.

“Jay?” He hadn’t realized he closed his eyes, until they blinked open to find you staring back at him, expectant and so fucking scared.

Suddenly, it was hard to appreciate his sight, appreciate your face.

And still, because you’re you and you’re so good compared to him, you smile. Bright and warm—too warm for this blue morning.

“Are you okay?” You both asked, a moment of silence falling afterwards as you let out a sharp exhale.

“Of course I’m fine.” You dismissed, and he couldn’t help, but knit his brows, jaw clenching because there is nothing of course about this. The words slipped from his mouth, still too drugged out and exhausted to stop himself.

“This isn’t—you’re not supposed to have to deal with this. Its ‘posed to be hidden.”

“Jason, everything with you is hidden.” You sighed, carefully climbing onto the bed, head resting on his good shoulder. You kept your arms tucked close, willing yourself to not reach out and pull him into your embrace—scared to hurt him and scared to let your words die in the air. “And it’s fine, we aren’t exactly living normal lives, and you’re still allowed normal things. You’re allowed to be closed off or secretive or touchy about subjects, that’s all fine. It’s when they start getting too much is when its not and I think they’ve been too much for a while.” You explained, voice wavering and quieter than you planned. He closed his eyes again, love sitting at the edge of the bed and waiting with you. He wanted to kick it out—you out, wanted to push you away and let himself be cold and avoid his reflection because you’re not smiling over his shoulder as he stood in front of the sink anymore, but he couldn’t. Couldn’t bring himself to hurt you, or himself anymore because maybe deep down he knew he didn’t deserve it. Didn’t deserve to live a life where he pushed your kindness and patience away.

“You don’t have to say anything, now or ever, but you also aren’t alone Jay. I love you and I’m not going anywhere.” You confessed, lips meeting his bare shoulder, noting the way he tensed. Now love was in your throat and on your tongue and he didn’t know how to say it back, how to love you like you wanted—needed, but god, he’d try until his lungs heaved and blood poured from his body. So he looked down at you, a crooked grin tugging at his lips as he carefully shifted, turning into you and bringing a hand to your face, ignoring the way his hurt shoulder hissed in pain.

And he knew the words would get choked up in his throat, so he found the love you stored in your mouth, in your hands, in your eyes, in yours voice, in your care, in everything about you and filled it up with his kisses. Lips meeting slow and heavy, breathing you in and tasting you. Jason knew this wouldn’t be easy, his life wasn’t meant to be, but he did know he was meant to be with you.

And it wasn’t jarring.

It settled into his bones and stayed with him—always.

[sarcastically-defensive17]

can i request an imagine where calum & the reader are dating and she gets in a car accident & totals her car? and calum and the boys are in another car and see traffic is slowed bc of the accident and cal recognizes her car and asks them to pull over as she’s freaking out because the ambulance is trying to help her calm down but she’s freaking out and can’t call cal because she can’t find her phone that’s in the car but she ends up fine w a few bruises and scratches & it’s all fluff at the end?

Gonna be late - C. Hood

TRIGGER WARNING: Description of car accident and physical injuries, and anxiety.

Sorry this took so long, lovie! Been super busy lately! Hope you like it!

Original story by sarcastically-defensive17

Car accidents are always shown as something so quick in movies.

A split second collision, the car jolts and is thrown around. The person inside is struck with whiplash and tossed about in a quick movement and often the aftermath is quite horrible.

Y/N discovered that movies are total bull Shit.

She was on her way to meet her friends, and her boyfriend, traveling down the Main Street of the town with music playing in the background as she thrummed her fingers along the steering wheel.

Calum always felt shy when she played his music, but she adored the sound of his voice. Every time his dulcet tone travels through the speakers a smile bursts onto her face.

She was listening to Babylon when it happened.

Anything that she had seen in the media felt like the biggest lie in that moment.

What was really a few minute action felt like a lifetime.

Her mind was focused on the road ahead of her, but the subconscious part of her mind was focused on the brown eyed man she gave her heart to.

They had been together for nearly 2 and a half years and at the point of considering living together.

Now, she had been on her way from work to meet with Calum, the guys and their girls for a much needed night out.

Between study and work she had barely had a time to relax, so Calum got onto Crystal who Y/N knew not to argue with about plans and organized for her to meet all of them at her favourite diner for dinner and drinks afterwards.

The sky was barely starting to go dark when the Subaru connected with the passenger side of the car.

She was doing 60 and her car was pushed sideways into the lane next to her.

The impact tore a grunt from her throat and the drivers side connected with a car parked on the side of the road.

Time seemed to slow as her head connected with the steering wheel and the drivers side door squashed in on her arm.

For a minute she saw black.

She came to with a pounding in her head that resembled a bad hangover, but the blood dripping in her eye brought her to her senses.

Despite the agony in both her arm and her head, she could only think of one thing: She needed to tell Calum she would be late. He would worry about her.

She just needed to get her arm out so she could get her bag that was on the passenger side. A quick text to Calum was all she needed

She just couldn’t reach.

<><><><><>

Calum couldn’t wait to see her. They basically lived together and saw each other every day, but last night he spent it at his own house.

She had an early class followed by a shift at work so he said goodnight to her at 7pm the previous night and left knowing he would see her at the bar the following day.

They were well past the honeymoon stage. Their love was past romantic, past companionate. They were bordering on full consummate love and he couldn’t find a moment where he didn’t have her at least in the back of his mind.

He truly loved her, and they both knew they shared the sentiment.

“All I’m saying is, you don’t know if zebras are black with white stripes, or white with black stripes.”

“What does it matter, Ash?” KayKay laughed from the front seat.

He decided to carpool with Ashton and Kaitlin, as he knew he was going home with Y/N that night.

Their conversations had ranged anywhere from aliens to the colour green and now to zebras and their stripes.

Cal couldn’t deny that he tuned out when KayKay and Ash were disputing the intensity of a specific shade of green.

The ride was energetic and gave off a certain ambience that Calum found himself basking in.

Lately, the only time he ever felt relaxed was with Y/N, but he was enjoying the time spent with his friends and the anticipation of seeing the woman he loved.

Hell, he was just excited to be able to sleep next to her that night. He always slept better with her beside him.

“Shit.” Calum felt the car slow, KayKay pushing her foot into the break with the pace of the car in front. “Calum is that-“

“It looks like it,” Ashton cut her off, whispering in a hushed voice for fear of setting off the Maori mans fight or flight.

They both knew that it would definitely be fight.

When it came to Y/N he would always fight for her.

His brown eyes captured the sight of her white Jeep. He knew immediately it was hers.

“Pull over,” he demands even though the car is almost at a complete stop.

His belt is off and his door is flung open. His ears are deaf to Ashton’s calls.

He clears a car and an ambulance comes into view. There are three paramedics crowded around the car, and two others tending to another car.

He didn’t know what had happened but he needed to know if his girl was okay.

He could hear her cries coming from the vehicle.

“I need to call my boyfriend,” she was breathing heavily. Her voice was cracking and sounded strained.

His heart broke at the sound. He could hear the pain she was in, yet her only thought was of him.

In any other circumstance he would be flattered, but all he could focus on was the paramedic telling her to stay calm because she has a head wound.

“No, please. You need to call him. You need to tell him I’m going to be late.” He got closer to the car, and he could see firefighters working at the door next to her.

Paramedics were on the passenger side of the car that had been dented, but at this moment he could care less about the car.

“Please, I just need to talk to him,” she was pleading.

“Ma’am you need to relax. We will call your boyfriend as soon as we can get you out and looked over.”

“But he’s waiting for me,” she was crying. From the pain or her stress, he didn’t know.

His feet felt more sluggish as he got closer to her, but he couldn’t stop his voice.

“Y/N?” He crouched down near where the paramedics were and his heart ached at the sight.

She was virtually untouched save for the head wound and her arm that had disappeared into the car door.

There were tears on her face and her skin was blotchy from the sobs underneath the blood.

Still, she lit up when she saw him.

“Calum! Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” she moved slightly, cringing at the pain in her arm. “Crystals gonna kill me. I ruined our night.”

Calum couldn’t help but laugh, “she won’t care, baby. It’s fine, I’m right here with you.”

“I’m guessing this is the boyfriend?” The paramedic quipped. He was tall but he managed to fit into the small space to hold a gauze against her forehead. “No more tears now?”

The firefighters made quick work of the door. It was crumpled around her arm and they needed to stabilize it as they moved her.

She was into the ambulance for an assessment not long after and they began the ride to the hospital.

Calum made sure to send a quick message to Ashton informing him of the situation, but he turned his phone off after.

He needed to focus on Y/N.

A few hours later and she woke up in a white hospital room, her arm in a cast and elevated and a thick wrap around her head.

Calum was asleep on a chair beside her. He was sleeping so peacefully.

Naturally, she throw a sock at him.

“Hey! Melon!”

He snorted awake, blinking deliriously at the girl perched on the bed.

Despite the pain she was in previously, she beamed at him. Her smile could always settle his worries.

“I’ll let that one slide but stop calling me that!” He laughed at her, standing up and stretching.

She used the one hand that wasn’t in the sling to make grabby hands at him, prompting him to laugh once again and settle on the bed next to her.

“So, dr. Hood. What’s the damage?” She smiled, nuzzling into him.

“The damage is that you have a shattered forearm and a mild concussion. Also, you’re never driving yourself anywhere again. You’re coming with me,” he whispered to her, pressing a kiss to his head. “I can’t tell you how scared I was when I saw your car on the side.”

“As scared as I was being yknow, the one in the car?” She winked, pulling him closer so she could hug him more.

“I love you, you know that right?” He kissed her forehead once again. It was his favourite place to kiss her. She believed it was the most intimate and sweet place to kiss somebody, and he had done so since they started their relationship.

“I love you too, Melon,” she smirked once again.

He was thanking anybody who was there to listen that she was okay. He couldn’t imagine what he would have done if she wasn’t.

“So, I think this is a good time to revisit our conversation about living arrangements,” he said as he toyed with her hands, resting her smaller fingers against his own. “Because, if we lived together, I could fulfill my dream of being your personal chauffeur.”

“Calum, your dream was to make it big with your friends.”

“And I did that. Now this is my new dream.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“You’re gorgeous,” he smiled.

She rolled her eyes, kissing him softly on the lips. “You want to do this? Live together?”

“I really do, baby,” he was staring so intently into her eyes that it forced a redness to rise.

“Then lets do it, Cal. Let’s move in together.”

A smile broke out onto his face, wider than it was before and he leaned over her to kiss her deeply.

“How about I get you a cute little nurse outfit and you can take care of me?” She winked as she pulled away from his lips, allowing him to roll his eyes deeply.

Tag list:

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[hypnomicimagines]

Oof how about 10 for the kissing prompts and doppo I love my sad office boy

(someone pls help him)

Kannonzaka Doppo: 

You hardly saw Doppo home from work on time.

You’d been accustomed to hearing him come home far later than you’d like, having been stuck in the office doing unpaid overtime in some desperate attempt not to get fired. He’d mumble bitterly under his breath about it as he reheated the dinner you’d tucked away in the fridge for him. On the off chance you were still awake and coherent enough, you’d walk out of the bedroom to join him at the table and listen to him blow off steam, massaging his shoulders and doing your best to soothe his frayed nerves. You’d had conversations with the poor overworked man before but he always seemed a bit more at peace when you were together and he was out of the office, able to at least attempt to leave work at work so he could focus on the other important things in life.

“Doppo…?”

You certainly hoped it was your boyfriend in your room instead of some random, scary intruder, and thankfully it was. He was hunched over on the bed, face buried in his hands, not noticing you until you closed the bedroom door behind you. You can instantly see that something is wrong, Doppo chewing his bottom lip as he looked at you, not greeting you as he normally did. It was already slightly off-putting to see him home from work so early but-

“I’m sorry. I-I’m being rude, I didn’t greet you like I normally do and now you’re going to leave me, which is fine if you’re happy then that’s all that I can hope for and who would possibly be happy with a man like me? I’m an idiot for even thinking I could make another person happy when-”

“We’re gonna take a few steps back now and talk about what’s wrong before we get into all of that. Also, I won’t be leaving you, so we can mark that issue off the list,” You kneeled down in front of him as he seemed unable to look at you, your hands squeezing his as his gaze finally rose enough to meet yours. You can see an array of emotions pass through his face, his intense love for you, his annoyance with his job, his misery at what had happened that day… “C’mon, baby, tell me what’s wrong.”

And he did.

You weren’t at all surprised to hear that his issue is work-related, that both his superiors and his co-workers were being blatantly disrespectful with no way for Doppo to defend himself. He had been on the brink of telling everyone off, on unleashing the pent up anger, but he knew he needed his job. That in the long run, it’d be far better for him to simply keep his mouth shut no matter how irritated he felt. The angry tears had started to stream down his face but you simply sat quietly and listened, knowing it was far better for him to get his emotions out here rather than bottle them up until they exploded in the wrong place.

And through the whole thing you held his hand, stroking the back of it, bringing his knuckles to your lips (which made him stutter in the middle of his rant), doing all the things you knew brought him comfort. Once he was finally out of breath, having fully explained the situation while popping in a few self-deprecating comments that truly worked him into a mood, you pushed him down onto the bed while wrapping your arms around him. He lets out an ‘oof’ as he hadn’t expected the sudden attack, arms wrapping around you out of reflex as you both tumbled back.

“I love you so much, you know?” You pressed a finger to his lips as he opened his mouth to respond, shaking your head. You pressed a gentle kiss to his lips before continuing. “It’s gonna be okay, Doppo. I know it doesn’t feel like it but it will. And I’m here for you whenever you need to talk or have some sense knocked into you.”

Doppo’s eyes are getting watery again but he doesn’t cry or speak, instead resting his head in the crook of your neck and nuzzling his nose against your skin. Even your smell was comforting to him and after having potentially the worst day of his life, he was happy to just be home with you, in your arms, listening to your voice let him know that everything would be just fine. It’s not as though he could believe just anyone if they’d said things like that to him but you were special, and always had been. You were so special that even if he was struck down right now with no rhyme or reason, he’d still be happy because at least the last person he’d seen or talked to would’ve been you.

“You should let me give you love too…” He mumbled against your skin, pressing kisses against your collar bone, “Sorry, I know you’re just trying to cheer me up and I shouldn’t act ungrateful…”

“You’re not ungrateful. Give me all the love you want with the extra time we have together since you’re home so early.”

You made sure to make every moment count.

[sleepdeprivedheretic]

Kill Me Hardly (Ch. 1)

Summary: You weren’t dead, but you weren’t fully alive. After a whole year of solitude, seeing your family mourn for your comatose state, and seeing the disembodied figures of other but silent spirits, you were hoping that your suffering would end. What’s this? Somebody could finally see you? Oh, he’s looming over a battered officer, bloodied wallet held tightly within his hand, staring straight at you with malice.  

 Thank You, once again, @youtubequeens, or Rita, for brainstorming the plot with me on this fic~! She helped me with the plot, ideas, and thirst for angst and fluff, yet the written gore and grim stuff is on me, folks, my friend is innocent, and her blog doesn’t have any violent nor terrible things like the stuff that’s in the fic.  

This fic has a lot of angst and it just fills our need for suffering. Heed the warnings, please. Reader’s a lil’ shit to the only one who can see her, and Tai’s a tsundere villain who kinda (a lot) wants to kill her, but doesn’t know where she is. Mainly angst and horror.

Warnings not in order and can be triggering: Angst! Villain! Fatgum (he does not so nice things in this one, sorry folks), too much cussing, mentions of murder, attempted murder, murder, seeing dead people, descriptions of gore, dark thoughts, loneliness, accepting the thoughts of death (reader’s a ghost), hopelessness, and a lot of things that is possibly triggering to some audiences. If you want straight up fluff, I have other fics, Thank You.

………..

  It’s always been the same since last year. You would float near your body, waving your hand in front of the thin, grisly, sad excuse of a human being that your soul had once fully inhabited. Now you were literally a ghost of your old self, your heart tearing into pieces at the sight of stricken faces of grief from those who had visited you. You could speak to them, but they could never hear, nor see you.

  At first, crying would be an understatement. You clutched your chest, sobbing with heart that felt shattered as your form wracked with grief. You repeated the same words in a mantra as your mother looked upon your body with her own expression of pain and loss, clutching your father’s hands as he mimicked the atmosphere. Your brother was nowhere to be found, you clenched your teeth, feeling very angry as the heartbeat on the monitor remained the same, slow beat.

In limbo. Not fully dead, but not fully alive, either, it was your state of existing. At first, you were terrified of the others, seeing broken, bloody bones peek from underneath torn skin, white, ashen eyes stared into nothing as they drolled along the hallways of the hospital, forever in a time that they only knew existed as they paid nobody nor anything else any mind as the ones who couldn’t see them, walked through them. Every time one would loll past you, you hid, not daring to let one of those things touch your own ghostly appearance.

 Your body was slowly but surely healing, the wound that had been violently afflicted from your neck to your clavicle, was bandaged up neatly, healing at it’s own pace, while you had to endure the nasty, raw and bloodied version on your ghostly appearance. It didn’t hurt physically like you thought it would, but it was a constant reminder of betrayal, mixed with shock and disbelief.

Day by day, you’ve gotten more acquainted with the raw, hurtful loneliness. Nobody could see you, other ghosts couldn’t talk to you, and you had to bear witness to not only the grief of your family slowly losing hope, but as well other families watching their loved ones on death beds. It was sickening, sad, and you wished that you were finally dead. It didn’t matter, whether it be heaven or hell, you wanted everything to stop.

You could travel outside, you discovered. There was no limit from how much your soul could travel without your body, you tried. Although you didn’t mind the distance, you didn’t want to be too far gone from your main hot spot. Of course, nobody else from the outside could see you, either. Animals could sense you, you thought with a final thought of relief as you decided to make your way to the zoo. They could not see you, but they knew that you were there, and unfortunately, it caused them to be in a state of unrest at the supernatural entity that in which was you, lingered.

……..

A year has passed. Your parent’s and other family member’s visits had dwindled down to a dead stop, as the police kept looking for your ever elusive traitor of a brother. It took a while for you to get use to the nightmares. Even as a spirit, you could still sleep, apparently. You didn’t like to, though.

Images kept flashing through your head of the knife glinting in the moonlight, the cold, passive stare of your blood-relative as he raised the weapon of choice down onto your throat. You let out a scream, jolting awake, shaking with tears dripping down, you hiccuped, wanting to vomit as you felt cold and empty, frantically gripping your throat as you laid next to your body. You wanted to grasp it’s throat, and squeeze, you couldn’t help but think as your hand faded through the pulse point of it’s neck.        

 It never gotten better. There was no hero for you to call, and you were seemingly forever at a stalemate in between the fate of life and death. It wasn’t fair, you thought bitterly as you could almost feel the insanity crawling inside your thoughts like crickets.

 It was a beautiful October night, with the full moon looming overhead, illuminating the darkened alley ways of the concrete jungle. You usually stayed by your body, at night, not really interested in the nightly crimes that you just so happened across, regularly. You always felt exhausted and terrified because you couldn’t do anything. The violent actions and behaviors triggered your own memories, you shivered in disgust.

Tonight, it was different. You had an odd feeling. A gurgled groan echoed from one of the alleys, snapping your attention to the sound. It never helped when you investigated, not being able to alert the police, who also couldn’t notice you, and you would usually stare with helplessness as the scenes unfurled.

“I’ll teach ya, ya greedy fuckin’ bastard!” An angry huff followed suit minutes after, and you felt your curiosity peak as you floated on towards the darkened area. Was it a gangster this time? The gruff voice had an unusual American twang to the normal Japanese accent, and despite your better judgment, you felt oddly comforted by it. Maybe you were losing your sanity, after all, you thought with mirth.  

Your eyes widened with surprise as you finally neared the situation. It wasn’t surprising that the man was holding a bloody wallet to his hand, sneering down at the unconscious police officer, no. It was the man himself who surprised you. Dark orange hoodie, black mask, darkened jeans, and black leather gloves covered the giant of the bara-like villain of the man. Fatgum, the large, yet elusively most-wanted villain in Osaka.

Although the murderous gang he was acquainted with had disappeared, he was more of a notorious violent thief who preyed upon well-known targets, now. He couldn’t see you, you thought, but it still sent chills down your spine at the thought that he was a ruthless, violent murderer.  

Yet, you were a ghost. Time seemed to stop as  his attention in what seemed to be a millisecond, snapped towards you, and the two of your eyes widened with surprise. It couldn’t be, could it? After a whole year of nothing glancing your way, finally, you felt the intense stare of a person noticing you. You didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, because yes, somebody finally noticed you and could see you, but it was a notorious villain with a violent streak.

If there was a god or spiritual deity who ruled over humans, they appeared to feed on your suffering.

“What’s this? The fuck ya doin’ outta the hospital, lil’ woman? The fuck’s up with yer wound, eh? And why the fuck are ya out in dark alleys, creepin’ up on criminals?” His eyes glinted within the moonlight, bright orange staring you down with a look mixed with disbelief, amazement, and pure confusion as he took in your gown clad form and bloody scar.

“You can see me?” Blurted out of your mouth, and his expression stilled, before letting out a sleazy grin followed by a bellow of laughter.  

“A lil’ too early to dress up for Halloween, ain’t it, Sugar? Heh, fuck. I really didn’t want any witnesses.”

He stepped towards you, and you instinctively stepped back as he closed the distance between the two of you. He couldn’t hurt you, you knew better, but it was the way how he was doing it. Images of your brother flashed through your mind, the cold, slinking feel of the knife jutting into your skin had made your eyes squeeze shut.

“Now, now, Princess,” He cooed mockingly as he stood directly in front of you, letting you take your time to really look at him. He was a few inches away from your face, leaning down to make sure that he was eye-level with you as he offered a false smile.

“How ‘bout you go back to whatever party that yer from, an’ pretend that this is all a lil’ nightmare in the mornin’, hm? Don’t wanna live a real one, don’tcha?” He grinned.

A nightmare? This was a nightmare! Yet, however, a thought clicked in your mind. It was a quick, fleeting thought, but it struck a cord within you.

“It’s a shame that the only one who can see me, is a villain.” You huffed, and his eye twitched.

“Pardon? I’m basically givin’ you an out, an’ yer gonna continue with yer dumb costume charade? Ya ingrate!” He growled out, slamming one of his hands against the brick wall next to your head. You couldn’t help but flinch, but you felt momentarily reckless and stupid, and really wanted to finally talk to somebody.

“I’ve been living my own nightmare for a year, Fat-chan. If you could find a way to send me away, please do. Until then,” You felt an uncharacteristic grin take over your features as you boldly reached up, letting your hand fade through his face. His eyes widened comically in sheer disbelief, a look that trumped his earlier look of shock, and you felt triumphant. “I’m going to haunt you.”

“The fuck you are! Who are ya! How!? I am gonna kill ya, again, ya demonic gremlin!” He growled out, punching the wall that was behind you, and you looked at his arm fazing through your abdomen. Good choices weren’t really in your state category of mind, right now, but you honestly couldn’t care, less.

“I’m a ghost, not a gremlin. I need to find my brother, and I think you know who and where.”

“I’m not helpin’ the ghost of Christmas Ass, less an actual fuckin’ ghost! What the fuck?” He was panicking, staring straight down at you with a disbelieving frown marring his features, chest rising and falling quickly as he further took your form in. You frowned, before thinking.

Sure you’d thought he’d panic, but not like this.

“Calm down. I was panicking at first when I found out that my own body was lying beside me. If I can handle it, surely you can, Mr. Villain Murderer.” You shrugged as you gave him that name. He stared at you and your wound, letting your words sink in as he didn’t budge.

“I’m talkin’ to a fuckin’ ghost.”

“Rather loudly, too. Hope your friend doesn’t wake up.” You admitted, pointing to the stirring cop.

“Shit!” He let out, and bolted. You followed him effortlessly, cutting through walls as you floated behind his racing form.

“Stop fuckin’ following me!” He hissed, panting as he leered at you from the side of a dumpster.

“I told you, I’m going to haunt you.” You pointed out.

“Annoyin’ as shit. The fuck’s up with ya? Follow somebody else!” He whispered.

“You’re the only one who can see me, though. So, no. I’m going to do whatever I want to do, anyway, so all you’re doing right now, is wasting time beside smelly garbage.” You quipped, earning you an ugly, seething scowl.

        “This isn’t happening.” He muttered underneath his breath, staring at you with the same wide-eyed shock mixed in with a common annoyance.

“You’ll get use to it. Think of it as penance for your crimes, or something. I’m feeling elated that I finally get to talk to somebody.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” He threw up his hands, trying to ignore you as you basically followed his grumbling, muttering form. You didn’t need to say anything, feeling your own shock and surprise that you did that. To a known villain, who couldn’t lay a finger on you.

Your thoughts lingered on the possibility of him killing you. Nobody truly wanted to die, but you felt that he’d be doing you a service. It was a gruesome thought, but you were already sort of dead, anyway.

“Twenty percent chance of waking up.” The doctor’s words echoed within your head as you looked back on the memory. The grief inflicted on their faces, haunted you more than any efforts that you could make. You had plenty of time to think, after all. A year in thoughts, nightmares, and ideas filtered through you as you realized things that you’ve once missed.

Your brother’s cold exterior worsening as you made it towards college, you paying little to no attention to his behavior as your grades skyrocketed, and your parents began to obviously favor you more. It wasn’t your fault that he acquainted himself with the wrong crowds of people. The known drug addicts, street fights, and illegal dealings had made himself an outcast from your family.

You half minded the tree of the man who you had decided to pin yourself to. Maybe being alone wasn’t the best choice, but it was the smartest choice. If you did wake up after surviving such a feat, this villain could easily take your life away from you. Yet. You were hungry to just talk to somebody, feel their stare as they listened to you, and actually talking back. A starved dog was a desperate dog, you thought with ill humor. He could entertain you for a while, until fate had gripped it’s claws back into you.

“This is the place. Listen here, ya lil’ wench, I’m not hostin’ Casper an’ all of yer other friends, Capiche?” He seemed to calm down as he all but accepted his fate as he stopped in front of a seemingly nice apartment complex. You were surprised that it wasn’t worn down, but it made sense, since that he was a thief.

“Fine by me. I’ll sleep on the couch.” You said, and he gave you a look.

“Ghosts can fuckin’ sleep?”

“Surprised me, too.”

“What the fuck. Ya better not do other shit, such as be inside of my body, ye fuckin’ parasite.” He growled, and you let out a grin.

“Not without your consent, first.” Slipped out of your mouth without hesitation.

At this, he choked on his own spit with surprise, giving you an incredulous look.

“Who the fuck are you?”

“A gho-

“Don’t be a smart-ass. Shit, the only company I have had in over a decade, an’ it’s a fuckin’ dead person.” He growled, unlocking the door, slipping inside before slamming it closed on your surprised face. His outburst didn’t matter to you, but the fact that he let an important part of himself slip so easily, did. You couldn’t help the thoughts swirl into your head.

Was he lonely as you were?

You entered without knocking, noticing that the place was rather neat, yet it smelled awful. Like cigarettes. He sat down at the kitchen table, huffing the white stick as the embers glowed a bright red, glaring up at you, as if challenging you to say something. You floated to the seat in front of him, focusing on your spiritual energy to seat yourself.

“You’re lonely.”

He blew the smoke in your face. Although you had no lungs to cough, you wafted the nasty smell away from you.

“Yer a busy-body stalker who should mind her own fuckin’ business.”

“I have no other business to mind, really. I’m just waiting for fate, I guess.” You shrugged. He eyed you, taking you in silence as you could see the wheels basically turning in his head.

“So, if I help ya pass into the light, or whatever, you’ll forever leave me the fuck alone?” The question caught you off guard as you stared at him. That’s right, he didn’t know that you weren’t fully dead.

“I’m in limbo.”

“Limbo?”

“In between life and death. I have to wake up, or die.” You finished. He set his cigarette down, eyeing you with a blank look as he finally took time to take your wound in.

“Somebody did that to ya, huh? Yer in comatose.”

He was keen, you admitted. You decided that you liked that of your “host”.

“You’re correct.”

“Ya...mentioned a brother, earlier?”

“Correct.”

You jumped as he then slammed his fist harshly against the table, the violent action harshly contradicting his curious behavior. Wide-eyed, you stared at him as a dangerous, churning glint lit up his eyes as he grit his teeth in a snarl. It was unlike his previous expressions, and it worried you.

“Look, I might not like ya, an’ I’m toyin’ with the chance of killin’ ya myself, but...fuck! That’s dirty an’ shitty. Yer own family comin’ at ya like that? Bastard couldn’t do the job properly?” He hissed out, and you felt a bit of tears well in your eyes. Quickly, you wiped them away as he continued to be in his own little spell of pure anger. It was the first time that somebody was angry for you after the incident, you thought. After everything, all you could see was your parent’s grief and sadness, the pitying looks from strangers as your face appeared on the news. Then it dwindled to a winter-like still. Life moved on without you.

“Tch. It’s not my business, though. I gotta long lists of hits, this week, an’ I don’t need a sad ass ghost story to chase after.” He huffed in irony, yet it was as if you could see through him. He was hurting, too, but not from your pain. Something like your story had rubbed him the wrong way, and it was as if the information had dawned on you.

“Then this sad little ghost story will follow you. I have a feeling that in both of our cases, misery likes company.” You admitted, and his eyes turned towards you with realization that you were still there.

“Yer smarter than I thought. I can probably have use of you, yet. Tell ya what, you help me, an’ I’ll help you. Ya want’im murdered?” He asked, hinting at your brother. The way he was pinning you down with a look, gave away something that he wasn’t saying, yet you had a feeling that he was daring you to tell him yes.

“No.” You opted instead, and to your surprise, he blinked at you, trying to hide a look of oddly placed relief. So he was laying a trap for you, and you deflected it.  

“I want him found, and dealt with the authorities. I...he’s still my brother. It’s shitty what he did, I know, and it’s tough to acknowledge the obvious truth, but...I want him to get help. See what he’s done, regret it. Move on.” Your words spilled out as Fatgum’s attention was pinned onto your mournful expression.

“Ya’re weak. Too fuckin’ forgiving. He’s not gonna get help, he’s gonna resent those around ‘im, an’ stay a childish brat.” He spat out, and your eyes widened.

“How do you know?” You all but snapped, and he grinned, but there was no light nor humor to it.

“’Cause I’ve seen and dealt with the same fuckin’ thing for years. I’m one of ‘em.” He admitted it so casually, yet there was an edge to it at the last part of the sentence, something that you couldn’t exactly place.

“I don’t think it’s never too late. I wonder if he regrets it. If he’s grieving.” You let out softly, hands on your cheeks as your thoughts focused solely on your brother. Fatgum’s huff made you snap your attention back towards him.

“I’m going to bed. Can’t believe I’m talkin’ to a fuckin’ ghost as if it’s a frickin’ therapy session.” He changed the subject.

“I mean, you and I both could probably use a few classes.” A grin found it’s way to your face, and he rolled his eyes.

“Go to sleep. See ya in the mornin’, I guess.” He stood up, squishing the cigarette deep in the ashtray as he scowled.

“Night, Fat-chan.” You hummed, and he looked at you.

“No sense in that shit. Ya can call me Taishiro. Don’t make a fucki-”

“Night, Tai-chan!” You beamed.

“-ng nickname- oh what the hell ever. Night-”

You gave him your first name, interrupting him, once again.

“-shitty ghost. Ugh.” He opted instead, walking into the direction of his bedroom. You didn’t follow him. Instead, you respected his privacy, just this once as you floated onto the clean couch. This was happening, the thoughts had whirled inside your head as you still felt a little in shock. It was as if it was a fever dream in which you couldn’t escape, and instead, you dragged somebody else with you.

Granted he was a villain with a bad choice of habits and words, yet, you couldn’t really fully hate him. He intrigued you, you thought. Rough around the edges, yet oddly merciful and open to a complete stranger. Well, it wasn’t as if you could tell anybody, and if you did, what was he going to do about it? He didn’t know your body’s location. He knew this, and decided to perhaps play along to your little game, you thought.

It didn’t matter. You were going to get to the bottom of this, and hopefully, just maybe, fate can finally make a decision on your fading life.

………

Notes: This will be more than one chapter, I’ll add more when I can!