Has anyone else wondered if the reason Allen is directionally challenged is because he should be wearing glasses like Past!Allen?
He can’t see for shit and somehow it’s slipped his knowledge that glasses are correctional tools for the eyes and thinks they’re just fashion statements of dignity or something.
And like his arm when it was paralyzed, he just got use to living with everything a giant blur. Timcanpy is always easy to keep track of, being such a bright gold. Cross’ red hair was always a beacon and Lavi’s too. Link’s blond is bright enough and the man’s usually in arm’s reach anyways.
Date the vaguely humanoid being of light that wanders around your neighbourhood at 3 am. They make your vision get fuzzy when you go close to them but it’s alright because you trust them to lead you back home.
pairing: reader x park jimin themes: smut / pwp warning! → graphic sexual content word count: 1.5k summary: you’re unknowingly cast in the starring role of jimin’s latest sexual fantasy; that he penitently indulges in during his routine late night shower.
( a/n: yes, the rumours are true, i literally wrote an entire piece of pure filth drabble at 2am that is nothing but jimin jacking off in the shower. )
The wards in the Underworld are starting to weaken and Alec has to find the reborn Persephone before it’s too late and Valentine gets out. But when at-first-glance-mortal Magnus turns out to be the personification of spring itself who doesn’t know his true powers it gets a little more complicated than just restoring the wards in a flash.
I love your writing! Could I request a fic please? Where McCree has a secret fiancé, living somewhere safe and reminding him that he has something to live for? But the remaining Deadlock members find her and kidnap her? And she's terrified when she realizes how much they hate Jesse and how they're willing to do anything to her in order to hurt him.
((A/N - I did this in Blackwatch era if that’s okay! It made more sense as Deadlock was more recent and oh my goodness gracious me I got so carried away with it I love writing McCree as a hero oosh. Might have to upload to AO3!))
“Please be safe.”
“I always am, doll.”
You stood on your toes to be able to press your lips against his. His rough, chapped lips that you were forever telling him to put lip balm on. You saw Jesse out the door, waving to him as set off down the road towards the Overwatch base. You twirled your engagement ring on your finger, a thin gold band that had a set of three diamonds with the middle one being slightly larger.
Jesse had proposed to you last year. You had known him since his days in the Deadlock gang, only because he used to frequent the diner you worked at. On more than one occasion he had bought you a strawberry milkshake or paid for your favourite song to be played on the jukebox. You were always careful though. You never became too close for the fear of doing something wrong which might anger him or the gang. You always accepted his compliments with a smile, and politely refused his requests to go dancing after work. It was only ever him that visited, saying what you had was a little secret, sealed with a wink.
Overwatch had then infiltrated Route 66, tearing apart the gang and luckily giving Jesse another chance at life to do good in the world. Knowing that neither of you were in any more danger, he proposed to you then and there. He constantly complimented you on your accent, your style, your pretty eyes. You had only moved to the little town a couple of years prior. He had of course sweetened you up and you accepted. You were his rock, and he was your charming cowboy.
“Honey, I’m home!” Jesse jokingly sang out as he sauntered through the front door.
You greeted him with a smile and a peck on the cheek. With what Jesse was earning working in the Blackwatch division under Overwatch, there was no need for you to carry on working at the diner. You had your own little ranch on the outskirts of town. You spent your days cleaning, cooking, sewing, ironing, being kept hidden..
“Did you tell them today, sweetie?” You held your hands in front of you, an expectant look on your face.
Jesse’s furrowed brow and sigh told you everything. Your engagement was a secret. A secret from your family, friends, and Overwatch.
You turned away from him, heading back into the kitchen to finish up the stew.
“Darlin’, it’s not fine.”
“So why can’t you tell them? Why can’t I tell them? Why can’t I tell anyone?”
You span on your heels to look at him and crossed your arms. Jesse’s eyes widened at your sudden anger. He understood your frustrations, he really did. It just seemed for however long you two has known each other everything between you had to be a secret.
“There are… Complications.”
Jesse sighed and took his hat off, moving round to sit on the sofa and patting the seat next to him. You precariously followed suit, back stiff and perched on the edge of the seat.
“Yes? What about them?”
“With Overwatch being close by, they’re gettin’ a bit antsy. Since they, well, arrested half o’ their men they didn’t take too kindly to it. Doll, the base isn’t even the direction that I head off to in the morning. I have to do that in case I’m bein’ followed.”
Your shoulders tensed slightly.
“They’re not the nicest o’ gangs and they try to keep tabs on people. Whether they know that I was given’ a second chance.. I don’t know.”
You looked at him. He was staring at the carpet, eyes drawn to a particular out of place thread. He fiddled with the hat in his hands.
“Which is why I have to keep us a secret.” Jesse slowly said.
You nodded, taking the hat from his hands and walking around the sofa to place it on a coathook. You hadn’t realised he was following you until you turned around and bumped into him.
“(Y/N), you are my home. You always have been. If anythin’ were t'happen’ to ya..”
You leant forwards onto his chest, him then covering you with his arms. He of course smelt like cigars, gunpowder and coffee. You were his home, and he was yours.
You pulled back slightly so you could look up into his chocolate eyes, etched with concern.
“I love you, Jesse McCree.”
He broke into a smile and picked you up, twirling you around.
“I love you too, (Y/N).”
The next day went off without a hitch, you said your farewells and began preparing food for dinner.
You frowned. Wiping your hands clean on a teatowel you lightly stepped over to the front door, peering through the peephole. Two young men dressed in black stood cockishly on your porch. You weren’t supposed to have any visitors today. You weren’t supposed to have any visitors, full stop.
You hooked the metal chain onto the door, so when it opened there was only a tiny crack you could see through. Better to be safe than sorry.
“May I help you, at all?”
“Is McCree here?” The one on the right spat.
“Erm, who? I think you may have the wrong ranch.”
Your heart was racing. Jesse had prepared you for this, to feign ignorance if anyone came asking for him.
You blanched. You tried to slam the door closed but one put their foot in the way. You grunted, and ran towards where you kept your shotgun in the cupboard under the stairs. You’d never had to use it before, but being so far out in the open you constantly had wild beasts and trespassers roaming your lands, you had to threaten them somehow.
You aimed it at the door, preparing for the worst when a crack shot through the air and your front windows were shattered. You held your hand up to your face to shelter from the flying glass, a few shards managing to scrape across your palm.
“Don’t come any closer.” You threatened. You inwardly cursed yourself at how weak you sounded. You emphasised by jabbing the shotgun in the direction of the window.
“Why, miss, we don’t want to hurt you.”
The two intruders stepped through the shattered pane, pointing revolvers at you and grinning wolfishly. Your breathing quickened. Your eyes scanned around the room, while slowly stepping back. You needed an exit route, and you needed one now.
“Just tell us where McCree is and we won’t have to put a bullet between your pretty eyes.”
They were stalking towards you, every step you took back they took one forward. The gun in your hands was shaking. You cocked it and aimed at their feet, firing which sent a whirlwind of wood splinters into the air.
This gave you a few mere seconds to sprint out of the living room, into the kitchen and out the back door. You heard cursing from the strangers and then heavy footsteps of them chasing you. You rounded the corner and pressed your back against the warm wooden slats, gun poised to whack the butt into one of their heads as they came round.
They never came round. You were sure they were following you. You frowned, peeking out to see if they were still there. They weren’t.
Treading carefully and aiming your shotgun, you stepped around the corner to look by the back door.
Something cold and hard pressed against the back of your neck. You shuddered out a breath you hadn’t realised you’d been holding. You stared blankly ahead into the desert, dropping the gun on the ground and raising your open hands to shoulder height.
Gravelly footsteps made their way so the one that had originally spoken to you was standing in front of you.
“Wild one, she is.”
“No wonder McCree went for her.” The one behind you sniggered.
You narrowed your eyes at the one in front, who was now pointing his gun at your chest.
“Don’t try anythin’ funny, sweetheart.” He smiled sickly sweet at you, and then nodded at the one behind you.
A rag soaked in something sweet and alcoholic covered your nose and mouth, making you cry out. You scrabbled at the man’s hands by your face, hearing him wince from where you cut him with your nails. He was relentless. Trying to struggle made you breath in more sharply and quickly, which you didn’t realise was helping their cause. Your hands became fuzzy, knees weak and vision blurring.
“Sleep tight.” They chuckled.
Everything went black.
“Why ain’t she pickin’ up..”
Jesse scowled at his burner phone, the number he had been ringing going to voicemail. He wanted to let you know that he was going to be home early today, as he’d managed to get a half day off and he could help you cook dinner as an apology for yesterday.
He scuffed his way through the long grass, the heat forming sweat droplets on the back of his neck.
He frowned. Tyre tracks by the front of your ranch. You weren’t supposed to have visitors. Feeling uneasy, Jesse unholstered his peacekeeper. Before he had made it to the front of the house, he could see that the front window had been smashed in and the door was slightly ajar.
“(Y/N)? You home, doll?”
He peaked in through the window and saw glass everywhere. Two pairs of dusty footprints by window making their way towards- blood? He stepped through the wooden pane on high alert for any signs there’s someone still in the house. It was deathly silent.
Jesse crouched when he made it to the doorway to the kitchen, picking up a shard of glass that definitely had blood on it.
He quickly put his earpiece in and channeled it to the base.
“McCree to Watchpoint 66.”
“McCree. Reyes here.”
“I need your help.”
Your head was pounding. Your palm stung. Your breathing was rattling, as though you were dehydrated. Your neck ached from where it was hanging awkwardly, a stray hair tickling your nose. You tried to reach up to brush it out of the way and scratch your nose. You tensed your arms when you realised you couldn’t, something rough had bound your wrists together behind your back. Your eyes shot open. Your vision was blurry, trying to adjust to the dim lit room. You looked down and realised you had been bound to a wooden chair. Trying to cry out for help, you realised a cloth of some sort was drawn tightly across your mouth. Glancing down, even your ankles were tied together from what you could see with rough hemp rope. You tried to regulate your breathing, air heavily leaving your nose.
Your head shot up when the rickety door swung open, a dark figure standing in the doorway.
“She’s awake.” The voice rumbled, nodding to someone else in the hallway.
The figure stepped over the threshold towards you. You tensed up, drawing in a sharp breath and head held high.
He wore dark leather trousers and a billowing cream top, almost like an old fashioned pirate. He grabbed your jaw with his calloused hand, forcing you to look up towards his shadowed face.
“So you’re the one that Jesse McCree has fallen for. A pretty lil’ thing, huh.”
He had the same southern accent as Jesse, albeit more menacing. He turned your head to the side, losing eye contact. Only spending a minute with this savage and he’s already made you feel like a piece of meat up for inspection. He leaned in close, lips hesitating over your ear.
“Do ya love him, sweetpea?”
You shut your eyes, tears squeezing out the corners and you drew in a shuddering breath.
You nodded your head, him only being satisfied when he let his grip go off your face and moved back. You bowed your head, wondering how you got into this situation. Wondering what Jesse’s reaction would be when he saw how ransacked your house was. Wondering about Jesse.
“Don’t cry. I di'n’t mean to make ya cry.”
He gently wiped away a streaming tear, his touch as soft as a lover’s. You glanced at his tan hand that was so close to your cheek. He took his hand back and thwack. His right hand struck your cheek, snapping your head to the right and hair falling over your face. The pain brought a fresh batch of waterworks, sobs choking in your throat.
A dark chuckle escaped from your captor. He pulled up another wooden chair from the darkness and sat down.
“D'ya know how long we’ve been lookin’ for that mutt?”
You shook your head, learning quickly it’s better to play along.
“Too long. After that darned Overwatch took half o’ my men we wanted to fight. Obviously we didn’t have enough manpower. When we learnt that ingrate was alive and workin’ for them? Hoo, that’s a whole ‘nother story.”
He leant back in the chair, his right ankle coming up to rest on his left knee.
“I had my men follow him. That Overwatch weren’t pretty smart to keep an ex-Deadlock member livin’ on Route 66 were they? He tried to be clever. Sent them on a fox hunt, he did. Until one day we finally caught him going back to ya nice lil’ ranch out back. Seein’ you greet him at the door warmed my heart, I must say.”
Your eyes widened.
“He had a lil’ missy and he was keepin’ her secret from the world. Well, I wonder why that is? That Jesse McCree had snagged himself somethin’ real nice and didn’t wanna share her. We thought we could do him the favor. We could let him know how much he hurt us, at the same time hurtin’ him.”
You frowned at this. They wanted to hurt him? By hurting you?
The stranger leant forwards placing a hand on your knee.
“Don’t worry, doll. We only want to let him know how big o’ a mistake he made when he betrayed us.“ He stood up, stalking around to the back of your chair and placed his hands heavily on your shoulders. "You are the key.”
You shuddered under his grasp, your entire body shivering at the thought of what they, or he, were going to do to you.
“Jesse, you need to calm-”
“I am calm.” Jesse seethed.
“Well then get your hand off of my desk.”
Jesse looked down, his nails digging into the wood creating splints on Gabriel’s desk. He grunted, flumping himself into the chair opposite Reyes and hiding his dark eyes behind his hands.
“She’s out there somewhere and we’re sittin’ here doin’ nothin’. She could be hurt or dyin’ or-”
“Don’t. Don’t you dare say it. Jesse, we will find her. I promise.”
You don’t know how long it had been. They would occasionally bring in water and sludge for what they called food. They had to feed you, this being the only time they would ungag you. Your wrists were chafed from being constantly bound, your ankles only released when you needed to relieve yourself. You had lost all energy to fight. It didn’t help that every now and then they would rough you up.
Your head ached, there was dried blood crackling by your nostril and you were sure your ribs were either cracked or majorly bruised. Breathing became a struggle, it was all you could focus on.
They didn’t seem to care about information about Jesse. All Deadlock wanted to do was hurt you. Hurt you so they could hurt him.
The door creaked open, you flinching at the light that shone through the doorway. You were tired and you wanted to give up. It was the man that you had first seen when you were taken.
“Looks like he’s given up lookin’ for ya, doll.” He smirked. “There’s been no word for.. Oh. Four days now.”
You stared blankly at the floor by his feet; you wouldn’t have given him a reaction even if you could. He walked over to you, holding something in his hand that glinted against the light.
“I think it’s time to.. Up the pace. Don’t you think, sweetheart?”
Only then did you look at him properly, studying what he had in his hand. A knife. You tried to shrink into your chair, worried eyes passing between the knife and his shadowed face. A swift strike and the blade was plunged into your thigh, blood seeping out from around the edges. You shut your eyes and let out a muffled cry, pain blinding your vision.
“Good girl. I made sure t'record that one. I’ll send it to ya fiancé and let him know how ya doin’.”
You breathed in deeply through your nose, tears now running freely down your cheeks and you trying to hold back sobs. You’d never known pain like this before.
He pulled the knife from its warm confines to wipe on his trousers, your blood running down onto the floorboards. He twirled the knife in his hands, looking like a predator wondering where he was going to make his next strike. You pleaded with your eyes as much as you could, you couldn’t take much more. You’d fantasized about being back at home, in your bed, with Jesse.
You didn’t know how strong your threshold was for pain but you knew you weren’t going to last long if they started torturing you for the hell of it.
“Com'ere, doll.” He grabbed your throat, leaning in dangerously close.
He passed the blade down the side of your face, making a deep cut down your cheekbone. You could feel blood trickling down, just adding to the list of injuries you had. He tightened his grip around your neck, digging his fingers in which would no doubt leave some lovely purple splotches.
An earthy rumble echoed through the building. Your captor looked at you in concern then span around to face the doorway. He moved around you, behind your chair and pulled your hair so your neck was on show. A loud crash and then suddenly there were three people all in dark clothing looking through the doorway where a rickety door has once stood.
“Long time, no see, McCree.” The man said, now pushing the blade against your bare throat.
“Get your dirty hands off of her, Max.”
You whimpered, struggling in your bounds on the chair. The grip in your hair tightened, making you take a short breath and changing your view so all you could see was the ceiling.
“You ain’t in a position to tell me what to do, Jesse. Unless you want your sweetheart’s blood spewin’ everywhere. Say, how does it feel? To have somethin’ you love taken away from ya?”
“Let her go.” A voice you didn’t recognise said.
“Uh uh. Not until the lil’ rat here understand what Overwatch did to my gang. And how betrayed I felt when I learnt he’d gone off gallavantin’ with ya.”
You could feel the blade dig in deeper, droplets beginning to form. The pain in your leg was excruciating.
“She’s got nothin’ to do with that.”
Your breathing was becoming heavier, the tightness by your throat and the general aches and pains from your leg, ribs, cheek and hair were becoming too much for you. The room became incredibly warm, your hands and feet becoming tingly and limp and eyes drifting shut.
“Looks like she’s already given’ up, Jesse. You’re too late.”
You heard a muffled crack in the air before you let yourself drift off.
You leaned into the touch of someone stroking your hair back from your face. You stirred, eyes shooting open and breathing increasing from what you last remembered.
“(Y/N), it’s okay. You’re safe.”
You quickly scanned the area and all you could see was white. White ceiling, white walls, white bed. Bed. You turned to where the voice came from and there was Jesse. Your Jesse that had come to save you, perched on the edge of the chair waiting anxiously. You leaned back onto the cushy pillows and let out a sigh. You glanced him over. His beard was more scraggly and under his eyes were dark. You held out your hand towards him, him instantly taking it in his grasp and holding you tightly. His thumb rubbed over your engagement ring.
“Jesse..” You croaked.
“Stop. (Y/N), I’m so sorry.” His voice sounded gravelly, broken. “I thought I could protect you.”
You squeezed his hand in reply, trying not to say anything which could damage your throat.
“I should'a been more careful. I should'a done what you said and told them about us. They could’ve protected you more than what I could.”
You frowned at this.
“I did this to ya. I wouldn’t be surprised if you up and left me.” He covered his face with his free hand, rubbing his forehead.
You retreated your hand slightly before slapping him on the wrist.
“Don’t you dare. You rescued me. What’s done is done but we’re here now. Safe.”
He peeked at you through his fingers, brown eyes meeting yours. A small smile formed on his lips before darting around your face and taking in what Deadlock had really done to you. It faded.
“Wounds heal, Jesse.” You reassured, catching on to what he was looking at. “I never doubted for a second you wouldn’t come for me.”
“Could'n'ta done it without Reyes.”
“I’m sure he’s lovely.”
“He’s the one that took me in after Deadlock.”
“Even more so.”
Jesse relaxed a bit, glad to see that you had woken up and hadn’t changed a bit.
“So I’m guessing Overwatch know about us then, huh?”
“I had to.”
“Not under the best circumstances.”
“I wish it could’ve been better.”
You turned your head towards him so you were facing him fully. You grabbed his hand that was still laying on your pristine sheets with both hands, bringing it up to kiss his knuckles. You hesitantly glanced down at your wrists, ropeburn clearly showing.
“I love you, Jesse McCree. Don’t you ever forget or think that anything will come in between that.”
Request from @phan—anime: Can I request a Jonathan Byers fluffy imagine where you go missing instead of will and you and Jon secretly like each other - he goes crazy when you’re home but when you return it’s super cute and he says his feelings to you etc ? I have no idea if that makes sense - thank you in advance xx
A/N: Jonathan Byers is my photography loving, The Clash listening babe and I will forever love him.
Word Count: 3712 words
The place you hid in was cold. But you missed it dearly, or rather, the real version of it that you’d grown to love. Not this dystopian, crumbling version. No, certainly not.
You heard voices sometimes, but you believed them to be purely in your head.
There was no way you could hear Will, or Jonathan or even Joyce, not when you were so far away from them. You put it down to hiding in their house, staying there obviously was affecting your mental health combined with this world you seemed to have been dragged into.
You’d ran, and ran and ran. Away from the thing that had brought you here. You’d barely made it alive. It had run after you for ages, constantly on your tail. But you made it into Jonathan’s house, the only place that had come to mind for you to go. Needless to say, you were broken when you got there and found it to be empty, although you’d known deep down that it would be.
You missed talking to people. Going to the cinemas and seeing films with Nancy and Steve, walking in the forest with Jonathan taking photos of you. You especially loved the walks. Playing D&D with the boys, and dramatically acting out the game for them whilst Will told it. You missed sitting in the Byer’s kitchen on a morning, watching as Jonathan prepared breakfast for his family still with sleep in the corner of his eyes.
You were currently sat at that table, or where it should be anyway. There were slight differences between wherever you were, and back home. Like the table in the middle of the kitchen that was broken and smashed to bits around the room. It was never daytime here either and there was no concept of time, all the clock handles just spun constantly or the numbers stayed on 00:00. So you slept whenever you felt like it and as best as you could, considering you also had to keep a watch out for the monster coming back. You heard screams once, faint and very far away from where you were but they still terrified you. They were short-lived and you knew the monster had gotten the poor bastard.
You got bored easily as well, so you liked to go around and count things in the house. The number of paintings, walls, corners of a room, lightbulbs. You would sing as well, usually something Jonathan would play in his car or a song that Steve would have belted out horribly in the corridor at school in an attempt to embarrass you and Nancy. Stuff like that stopped you from being scared, a distraction from what was out there.
But as you sat in the middle of the room, you watched the clock on the wall and saw something that terrified you even more. The clock stopped turning. Of course, it could just be a battery running out, but you looked at the other clocks and saw that they were all the same. All of them read 6:32, and seemed to work as if they were all in sync with time again.
You didn’t know what it meant, but part of you wondered if it meant your rescue. Another part told you not to be so stupid and get your hopes up. How on earth could the clocks relate to your safety?
You averted your attention from the clocks and shut your eyes, leaning back in the chair. You were so tired, although you weren’t certain, you guessed you hadn’t slept for over twenty hours. The monster had passed by the house not so long ago, dragging something very alive with it. It had been crying anyway and making noises like it was in excruciating pain. You’d hidden in the cupboard under the sink as you heard it scratch around the building.
It left after what you assumed to be five minutes as you’d counted to your best ability.
“Y/N?” A faint voice called to you. You screwed your eyes shut tighter, ignoring it.
“Y/N!” The voice said again, more urgent this time. You continued to ignore it, massaging your temples with the tips of your fingers.
“Shut up.” You mumbled to yourself. The voices were coming back again, but you were determined to block them out.
“Y/N?” The voice was louder now, but again urgent to capture your attention.
“Get out of my head.” You hissed, sitting forward and hunching over yourself. Your head was pounding now, and you could do nothing except curl up in pain.
“Y/N, are you here?”
“Get out!” You cried, forgetting about being quiet in case the monster was nearby. The sound of creaking boards met your ears and your head whipped up to look at the kitchen doorway. Lights were shining in the hallway, casting shadows along the floor.
“Y/N?” The voice called through the house, and you realised it wasn’t the voices in your head but rather the voices of the people now in the house. One moment the lights were shining in the hallway, the next they were in your face and blinding you from seeing who was here. You covered your eyes and tried to shield them from the harsh torchlight, wishing you could see the stranger’s faces.
“Y/N! Oh my God you’re here!” Cried a familiar voice. One of the torches was lowered to the floor and someone crouched in front of you, shielding you from the light. But you could now see that the face hiding under a large helmet was none other than Joyce. She had tears in her eyes as she removed the helmet, detaching it from her hazmat suit so she could talk to you properly.
“I can’t believe we found you!” She laughed, pulling you in for a hug. You feebly brought your arms up to hug Joyce, managing a little squeeze. You were so malnourished and weak, yet you hadn’t realised how much so until you felt Joyce’s strong grip holding you.
The other rescuer removed their helmet and you were surprised to see Hopper’s face.
“Hopper?” You questioned, looking to Joyce for answers.
“It’s a story for another time, because right now we need to get you out of here before that thing comes for us.” Hopper barked, pulling his helmet back on and picking up Joyce’s torch.
“H-How did you get here?” You asked as Joyce helped you to your feet, hooking one arm around your waist and letting you lean into her for support. Your legs wobbled dangerously but you kept your ground and began to walk forward with Joyce.
“An open portal, it took a lot of persistency to get here. It wasn’t easy to get access to it.” Hopper explained, opening the front door and checking to make sure the monster wasn’t lurking outside. All clear.
You nodded, trying your best to focus on putting one foot in front of the other successfully.
“Hopper, help me. She’s struggling.” Joyce pleaded, trying to keep you up on your feet as you stumbled, your head going fuzzy as your vision swam before you. You reached your hand out to grab Hopper by the arm but your foot caught on one of the thick roots that covered everything in this desolate world. You crashed to the floor, letting darkness consume you.
You felt warm. For the first time in so long, you could feel warmth seeping into your bones. You were no longer numb from the constant chill of the air. Opening your eyes, you first saw the window to your right with golden sunlight pouring through. Turning your head to the left, you saw the door was open a crack and music drifted through from somewhere. You knew this room. You recognised the large vinyl player, the record albums all stacked up, rolls of camera film strewn over the little bedside cabinet. You wondered if this was all a dream, a sick trick by your mind that would eventually reveal that you were still in that other world. The other place.
You spread your arms out either side of you, stretching and clinging onto the bedsheets for certainty that this was real. You hadn’t been lurched back into the cold, unfamiliar world yet, so you figured this was real. But still…
Climbing out of bed, you noticed you were wearing a thick, cream-coloured jumper and your underwear. Had someone got you dressed for bed?
Your head was still fuzzy so you couldn’t remember clearly, but one memory managed to slip through the haze. Joyce, calling your name into the dark and bright, harsh lights that blinded you. Touching your temple gingerly, you walked barefoot to the bedroom door and slowly opened it a few more inches to look into the hallway.
Empty, but there was definitely music coming from somewhere in the house and singing too. Bad singing.
You stepped out of the room and gently shut the door behind you without it banging. The hallway was bright too, natural light pouring in and illuminating the flecks of dust floating in the air. You walked in the path of the sunlight, loving how warm it felt on the backs of your legs and the fuzzy feeling of the carpet. You noticed a large burnt patch on the carpet, but you decided to leave it alone. You could ask about it later.
It was easy to locate the source of the music and noise that you supposed you would class as singing. It was coming from the kitchen, and as you approached the doorway the smell of a fry up hit your nostrils. It was a whack to the face, the tantalizing smells making your mouth water instantly. You hadn’t eaten in so long; it was a wonder you weren’t near death. But that didn’t matter now, because you could finally smell victory for your growling stomach.
Creeping up to the doorway, you poked your head around, gripping onto the wooden frame for support as you surveyed the scene before you. Everything was there, the table in the middle of the room, the chairs that were placed around it. Joyce and Will who sat minding their own business, Joyce sat reading a newspaper and Will drawing something. The “singing” was coming from Joyce, and you couldn’t help but smile just a little at Will’s disturbed expression.
Looking up from the table you saw someone else standing by the cooker, juggling between pans containing bacon, sausages and eggs.
“Will can you get the orange juice out?” Jonathan huffed, his back turned to you as he cooked breakfast for his mom and brother. Will got up from his seat and went over to the fridge, taking out the juice and kicking the fridge shut with his foot. As Will put the jug of orange juice in the centre of the table he suddenly looked up, the feeling of being watched alerting him to your presence. His face lit up though when he saw it was you stood there.
“Y/N!” He shouted, running around the table to greet you with an excited hug. You bent slightly so you too could hug him fondly, ruffling his hair up which you could remember him hating when you did it. He wriggled free to flatten his hair down, grumbling as he did so. You just smiled at him with a cheeky grin, glad that he was so glad to see you.
Jonathan and Joyce had now noticed you too, and Joyce was on her feet to embrace you too. She smothered you with a firm but caring hug, knowing just how fragile you still were.
“You’re awake! God, I thought you might never wake up.” Joyce sighed with relief, laughing as she took solace in your awakening.
“H-How long was I…” Your throat was hoarse from lack of using it, but Joyce understood what you were trying to ask.
“Four days, honey. Your parents know you’re okay, and they were fine with us taking care of you as they knew you’d have practically around-the-clock care.” Joyce patted your cheek comfortingly and guided you to a seat at the table.
“Hi Jonathan.” You addressed the young male as you sat down, noticing that he had remained speechless as Joyce had spoken to you. He smiled weakly, the dark bags under his eyes very prominent as he acknowledged you. Even in such a tired state, you still found the way his hair glowed in the sunlight and the little creases that appeared at the corners of his mouth when he smiled cute.
“Jonathan made you breakfast too if you’re hungry. He’s made extra for every meal the past few days, just in case you happened to wake up.” Joyce told you, folding her newspaper up whilst she looked at Jonathan with a sly smile.
Will snorted a little as he poured himself a glass of orange juice, earning a light tap on the back of the head from Jonathan.
“Shut up.” Jonathan mumbled, turning back round to serve up the food before it burnt.
“Thank you. It really means a lot.” You told him, although his back was facing you. Jonathan laughed softly as he came over with four plates of food balanced on his arms.
“It’s only breakfast.” He admitted, but you shook your head.
“No, I meant for everything. I noticed you let me use your room, and I’m sorry if that caused any issues.” You apologised, reaching for the jug of orange juice at the same time Jonathan did. Your hands met on the glass handle and you both locked eyes with each other.
“Really, it was no problem. You needed the best care, and I offered for you to use my room.” Jonathan explained, letting go of the jug and taking his hand off yours so that you could have it first.
You didn’t want to sound like a broken record by saying “Thank you” again, so you smiled at him across the table and tried not to let yourself get too worked up about how warm his hand had felt over yours. You couldn’t stop the slight tremble in your hand though.
You managed to eat a fair amount of food, but despite being so hungry you couldn’t keep eating without feeling like you would throw up if you had another mouthful. Will nabbed your leftover piece of toast and when Joyce scolded him you assured her it was fine and slipped him the rest of the food.
“I have to go to work, I’ll be back later today okay? Look after Y/N you two.” Joyce ordered her sons, grabbing her coat off the back of the chair and squeezing your shoulder before she dashed out.
“Will, do the dishes please. I want to talk to Y/N, alone.” Jonathan got up from the table and walked around to your side, offering his hand for you. You put your hand in his and let him help you to your feet, holding onto his hand a little longer than necessary whilst you pushed the chair under the table. Will began to complain but Jonathan told him the quicker they were cleaned the quicker he could go to Mike’s house. This got Will’s attention, and he leapt up from his seat, gathering the plates without any persuasion.
Jonathan led you out of the kitchen and back to his bedroom, shutting the door so he could cut out the noise of Will crashing around the kitchen. You sat on the edge of his bed and messed with the sheets, tracing patterns with your finger.
“I missed you.” Jonathan stated, sitting down beside you. “I was so worried about you, even when you were here. I haven’t slept much.” He admitted, rubbing his eyes as he spoke. You looped your arm through his and leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder.
“But I’m safe now. I’m okay.” You told him, dragging your fingers up and down the sensitive skin on the inside of his arm. “Will you sleep now?” You asked him. He exhaled slowly, weighing out the probabilities.
“Probably not. Not when I know you could still get hurt and I can’t protect you.” He confessed, placing his other hand over yours which was resting on his arm. He pushed his fingers to interlock with yours and dragged his thumb across your knuckle in slow strokes.
“I missed you too, you know.” You confessed as well. Slowly, pieces of your time in that other world were returning to you. Singing songs by yourself, missing home, missing the walks with Jonathan, wishing you could see Nancy and Steve again.
“Really?” Jonathan asked in surprise.
“Yeah, just the stuff we did together and the car journeys where you’d play your mixtapes of songs you loved.”
“I’ve missed that too.” Jonathan agreed, yawning slightly as he tried to keep his eyes open despite it being the late morning.
“You said you couldn’t sleep knowing you couldn’t protect me if I was at a risk of getting hurt. If you stay in here do you think you could sleep then? I mean, it is your room after all!” You gently coaxed Jonathan to lie on his back, lying by his side with his hand still holding onto yours.
“Maybe.” Jonathan whispered, turning his head so he could look at you from where you both lay down.
“Just shut your eyes, and relax. Focus on something that will keep you calm.” You commanded, also doing what you said so that he wouldn’t feel left out.
“You.” Jonathan murmured to himself as he lay beside you with his eyes closed. You were glad he couldn’t see the blush on your face when he said this, so you continued to speak like nothing had happened.
“Think of something you’d love to do and imagine you’re doing it, something relaxing.” You muttered, wondering how it would feel to have Jonathan huddled against your back, an arm draped over you as he spooned you and kissed the back of your neck softly.
“I am.” Jonathan sighed, a hint of a smile appearing on his face. His cheeks flushed a dark shade of red, obviously embarrassed about whatever had crossed his mind.
“It must be something funny.” You giggled, sitting up on your elbow so you could lean over him. He opened his eyes and the smile only grew wider at the sight of you.
“No, I just got really flustered. It made my tummy feel all warm.” Jonathan beamed up at you, reaching a hand up to stroke your face. The warmth from his touch made the hairs on your arm stand up, your senses going into overload. “I really was worried about you. But, knowing you’re here and safe with me, it kind of makes everything else okay.”
You leaned into Jonathan’s touch, a heat spreading in your chest as the beating of your heart quickened. “I like you Jonathan, I really do. You were always in my thoughts when I was stuck in that horrible place.”
Just the thought of that world made tears spring to your eyes. Jonathan was quick to sit up and slip his arms around you, pulling you close to his chest as you wept into his jumper. “I was so alone Jonathan, it was so alien and unnatural. I had no one.” You confessed, bunching your fist into the woollen material.
“You have me now. That place, the Upside Down it’s called, is gone. You’ll never see it again, because you’re going to be here with me and I’ll be your knight in a denim jacket, armed with my sheer adoration for you.” Jonathan murmured the sweet words in your ear, his lips brushing against your hair as he slowly combed his fingers through. You loved his devotion to the people who mattered to him, and his unwavering commitment towards keeping you safe.
“Jonathan?” You asked, moving so you weren’t hiding your face in his chest and instead you and him were face to face.
“Yes?” He replied, his voice hitching in his throat as he swallowed nervously. The tension between the two of you was palpable as you found yourselves leaning in towards each other. Jonathan gazed at your lips through half-lidded eyes, his gaze lustful as he looked up to lock eyes with you.
“Kiss me.” You whispered, shutting the gap between you both and sealing your lips together in a smooth, ardent kiss. Jonathan couldn’t help the small sigh that escaped his lips when he pulled away for a moment to catch his breath. But you craved more, and he obliged to you pulling him back in to reconnect your mouths. There was a knock on Jonathan’s bedroom door, obviously Will had finished with his job of washing up, so you pulled away.
“Shouldn’t you get that?” You gasped, your chest heavily moving up and down as you found yourself breathless. Jonathan paused for a moment and looked at the door. He shook his head and ignored the knocking.
“I don’t want this to stop.” He muttered, pressing chaste kisses to your lips. But Will’s voice interrupted Jonathan’s trail of kisses from moving to your neck. Jonathan stopped, his lips hovering over your jaw as he slowly exhaled with exasperation. The hot air across your skin made goose bumps rise all over your body.
“Yeah Will?” He called out, his head resting in the crook of your neck.
“Can you take me round to Mike’s now?” Will yelled from outside the room. Jonathan huffed, torn between staying with you and his promise to his little brother.
“Sure, go get in the car and wait for me. I’ll be five minutes.” Jonathan told him, waiting for Will’s footsteps to fade away as he ran off.
“Five minutes?” You arched an eyebrow, smiling as Jonathan pulled you down after him, getting you to lay your head on his chest.
“Just five more minutes.” He sighed, stroking his hand down your back. “Five minutes where I can just hold you and know that you’re mine.”
“Keep this up and you’ll have all the time in the world.” You hummed, shutting your eyes as you listened to the sporadic beat of his heart.
(These events are separate from the events of June 19. Dark’s just so full of himself that he’ll only allow uploads of himself today.)
Mark awakes tied to a chair. His vision
is fuzzy, and he vaguely remembers getting hit over the head with something from
behind. Now here he is, in this little room. But something stops his heart. In
a chair across from him is Amy.
“Amy! Amy, can you hear me?” He calls,
straining against the binds that keep him in this chair. Amy’s chin is resting
on her chest, and she doesn’t budge when he speaks her name. Mark feels terror
gnawing at his stomach as a familiar ringing floods the room and Dark enters
behind him with a sigh.
“Already awake, are we? And how do you
feel Mark?” Dark grabs Mark’s hair and jerks his head back so that he’s looking
up at the Ego. “Comfortable?”
Mark spits in Dark’s face and feels
him release his hair. Dark strikes Mark across the face with a roar of anger,
and Mark winces but doesn’t cry out. “Let her go.”
Dark rolls his eyes and strides over
to Amy, draping an arm across her shoulders and hugging her limp form close. “But
I brought us all here to have some fun, and you wouldn’t want dear Amy to miss
out, would you?”
Mark swallows back the bile rising in
his throat and feels his entire body begin to tremble with panic. “Please, Dark.
I’ll give you anything. I’ll do whatever you want but don’t—don’t hurt Amy.”
“Anything?” Dark raises his eyebrows,
impressed with the gutsy offer, but he wrinkles his nose at it. He stands,
straightening his suit and feigning indifference. This feeling of power makes
his head swim; it makes every nerve in his entire body light ablaze with excitement.
“Oh, Mark, dear, sweet, stupid Mark.” Dark takes a step towards
Mark with every other word, closing the distance quickly and ending up inches
from his face. Mark flinches away from him, but he can’t move very far. “I
would never hurt Amy.”
Mark feels his muscles relax just a
little, but he knows it’s a mistake as soon as he sees the smile cross Dark’s
lips. “I won’t hurt her because I’m going to make you hurt her.” Dark places a finger to Mark’s temple, and Mark
feels Dark’s aura assault his mind like a stampede, trampling down every
thought. “I’m going to invade your mind and make you kill her, slowly and
painfully in every single way that you know Amy is most afraid of.”
Mark whimpers and tries to shake away
Dark’s influence, but it’s drowning him. He can’t hear his own thoughts
anymore. He can only hear Dark’s voice and Dark’s laugh, and he can only feel
the weight of Dark’s words dragging him farther and farther down.
“And when you’re done, as she takes
her last breaths, I’ll let you wake to see your good work. How does that sound?”
Dark grins, his shell splitting into different colors all whirring around him
and ringing like tuning forks all struck at once in an ear-shattering chord. “And
when you go mad, I’ll take your place, and no one in the world will know the
difference. They want me, Mark. They’ve grown tired of you.”
Mark tries to fight off the words, but
he can feel himself fading against Dark’s assault. He won’t—he won’t hurt Amy.
He’d rather die first, but the aura is so powerful.
“Just give in,” Dark purrs into his
ear. “It’s already over.”
“N-no, I won’t,” Mark gasps, trying to
blink the smoke from his vision but ultimately failing.
“You will,” Dark promises. “It will
simply take time, and when Amy awakes, the fun begins!”
This can apply to anyone tag, just based on something that happened to me. But the sickie doesn’t realize their sick, they just feel like crap and blame it on exhaustion so they decide to take a bath. Because they’re so cold they turn the heat way too high without realizing until towards the end of the bath, when their heart is pounding and they can’t stop sweating.
They get out of bath and find they can’t stand up without nearly blacking out, they have to keep kneeling on their knees and even then the darkness in their vision won’t go away. They have to dress themselves and crawl to their caretaker while trying to stay conscious
I hope you enjoy it.
When Lance woke up, he felt like there was a yupper lying on
top of him, he could barely move from the aches and pains that were all over
his body. He knew that he had been going
at the training deck more than normal but this was just ridiculous, he needs to
get more rest before this exhaustion gets the better of him.
He shivered as he lay there on his bunk, he really needed to
find the heating for his room, this was way too cold for him, he was from a quiznacking
tropical island and he wasn’t built for the cold weather! He grumbled to himself for another ten
dobash’s trying to get the energy to move when a knock came at his door.
“Lance? You in there buddy?” Shiro called, “It’s time
“I’ll be there in a tick,” Lance called back. He winced as he swung his legs to the edge of
the bed and had to sit still for a tick until his world stopped spinning.
“Quiznack,” he muttered under his breath, “Come on
McClain. Get your butt in gear.”
Lance figured it would be easier for him to have a quick
soak in his bathtub before heading to breakfast. It wouldn’t be the first time he would be
late so he wasn’t too worried about missing any of the food goo that Hunk and
Coran always prepared.
He slowly made his way into his private bathroom, his
muscles screaming at him from the practice he had done late the night before,
even Keith had gone to bed before Lance.
Ignoring the pounding in his head, he bent down and turned
the water on all the way to the hottest setting possible. A nice long bath would be the perfect way to
get rid of these chills and relax his muscles.
Mama always told him he should really have a hot bath or shower after
exercising otherwise he would get muscle cramps the next day, he was never
going to tell her she was right.
Once the water was high enough he turned the taps off and
slowly shed his pyjamas and the chills that he had been feeling all morning
rose. He took a deep breath and stepped
into the tub, yelping at the heat but knew that it would be cooler once he
submerged completely. He put his other
foot in and mentally prepared himself for the sensation of being boiled alive
for the next few dobash’s and lowered himself into the water.
As he lay there in the near boiling water he allowed himself
to doze, only his head was sitting above the water line and he never let
himself drift off too far as to let it drop underwater. He hummed as he felt his muscles relax
slightly, the tension that had been plaguing him all morning finally
Once the water started to loose it’s heat he noticed that
his vision was blurred and his heart was pounding a mile a minute. Strange, he didn’t think he had been sitting
in the water long enough to feel like that but as he put his hand to his head
to try and clear his sight he realised he was sweating profusely.
Ok something wasn’t right here, he shouldn’t be feeling like
this after a short bath. Lance figured
he would go ask Coran if he had a cold or something and hopefully the older
Altean would have something he could take.
He pressed the icon that released the water and waited for
it all to disappear before attempting to stand as he didn’t trust himself with
his fuzzy vision to not slip in the water and hurt himself. He took a few calming breaths and braced
himself on the edges of the tub and got to his knees, but before he could move
to stand his head spun and he started to tip forwards. Throwing a hand out to catch himself, he
managed to halt his decent.
“Ok Lance, just take this one step at a time,” he
muttered. He glanced around the room to
see if there was anything he could use to help himself out of the tub but nothing
he saw that was within his reach was securely fitted to the walls.
He decided that the only way this was going to work is if he
crawled out of the tub, so he lifted one leg over the edge and prayed that he
didn’t slip now or his mama could say goodbye to any grandchildren from
He held his breath as he shifted his weight and lifted his
other leg and only released the breath when he had both legs back firmly on the
freezing bathroom floor. As he went to
move he felt as if the room shifted and decided that he should probably lay
down for a moment to allow this feeling of vertigo pass. He closed his eyes as he lay there on his
bathroom floor, completely starkers, and knew that if anyone came looking for
him since he was most certainly late to breakfast now that they would be in for
a view of Lance that not even his mama had seen in a long time.
He allowed himself to lay there, taking deep breaths as he
tried to think of what had caused all this but his addled brain couldn’t come
up with anything except that he wasn’t feeling well. He could feel the vertigo passing and knew
that if he didn’t move soon, it could return before he was at least
He decided that until he could pull himself up on something
solid he would have to crawl to his dresser.
His arms were shaking from the chills that still racked his body and he
grumbled to himself that if he didn’t get a six pack from all the work his
stomach muscles were doing right now he wanted a refund.
He reached his dresser and pulled out some boxers, pants and
shirt but decided that trying to put anything else on would be too much of a
hassle, not matter how cold he was.
Once he was dressed, he slowly made his way down the hallway
to the kitchen where the others were all eating. He held onto the wall, his entire being
threatening to topple over at any moment and he really didn’t want to crawl all
the way to the others. Keith would never
let him live it down.
He took forever to walk what would normally have only taken
a few dobash’s and he cringed at every step, his head pounding and vision
swimming. He looked up to see how far he
had to go and almost cried out in relief as he saw the kitchen’s door right in
front of him. Now he just had to cross
the hallway without falling over and he would be ok.
He braced his back against the wall and after a few breaths
pushed himself off with as much force as he could, counting on the momentum to
carry him the couple of steps to the opposite wall. He hit it with a thud and his head and
shoulder hit the solid metal wall with surprising strength considering how ill
he felt. All that training must be
finally paying off.
He shook his head out of habit only to groan as the motion
made everything worse. He only had three
steps to go and dragged himself along the wall and hit the pad that lit up to allow
the loud chatter of his teammates enjoying their breakfast.
“What took you so long?” Pidge asked from where she sat
curled up on the bench eating her bowl of food goo, not even bothering to
glance in Lance’s direction.
“Lance?” Keith asked as he looked up from where he was
sitting at the table, “You ok?”
“I don’t feel too good,” Lance managed to say before his
entire world spun and the floor rose to meet him.
“He has a high temperature.”
The voice was distorted but Lance recognised it as Shiro’s, the black
paladin seemed worried, which mind you wasn’t out of the ordinary in Lance’s
humble opinion, but something in his tone seemed off.
“What can we do to bring it down?” Since when did Pidge not
know what to do? Lance made a mental
note to tease her about this later.
“No, a hot bath when he has a fever like this will only make
it worse. We need to bring his temp down
slowly otherwise it will put his body into shock.” That was Hunk, good old Hunk, Lance smiled, his
buddy would know what was wrong with whoever was sick.
Come to think of it, where was Lance? He frowned, he remembered waking up and Shiro
calling out to him, taking a bath, collapsing on the floor and somehow making
his way to the kitchen but everything after that is a blur. He tried to look around him but all he could
see was black, he realised that his eyes were closed, he just had to open them
and he would be able to see where he was.
Wherever he was, it was cold, so quiznacking cold.
Lance made a whining noise as he managed to crack open his eyes,
only to shut them again as the brightness in the room blinded him instantly.
“Lance?” Shiro’s voice came through slightly less distorted than
before but still not as clear as Lance had remembered it.
“Shiro? What?” he
managed to whisper before he was racked with a full body shiver, “Cold.”
“I know buddy,” Shiro said softly, “We are trying to get
your temperature under control. So bear
with us ok?”
Lance could feel someone’s hand touching his forehead and
leant into it, “Warm.”
“Lance?” This time it was Coran’s voice, “How long have you
been like this?”
Lance frowned, how long had it been? “Since, Shiro woke me up this morning?” he
said still unsure. He could hear the
others talking amongst themselves but couldn’t make out any of the words. He decided that whatever they were talking
about wasn’t to do with him, his entire body was screaming at him to
sleep. If he slept then he would be
better right? “Tired,” he mumbled as he
tried to move to get more comfortable on whatever he was laying on.
“Rest now,” Hunk said as Lance felt his calming presence
move up near his head, “We will get you back into prime Lance form again in no
Lance didn’t even have the energy left to answer his best
friend but he trusted Hunk would know he was grateful. He just let the blackness take him again as
he fell into its warm embrace. He was
safe in his friends hands, they were his family after all.
Here it is! Thanks for all of your encouragement and excitement about this story! @diversemediums and @outlandishchridhe are my amazing team that have been so much fun (and a fair amount of craziness) to work with. I couldn’t have made this chapter without them.
Important note: The ever amazing @diversemediums wrote a sort of companion ficlet that goes along with this story and is referenced within this chapter. You can read that HERE.
The previous chapter, which takes place before the Legend of the Faerie Wife, can be found HERE.
I've been thinking about panicky Keith a lot lately because I love,,,panicked caretaker Keith. So what about a situation where lance is trapped in a place where the oxygen levels (or if you'd prefer, a poisonous gas is filling the room) are quickly draining and Keith can't do anything but talk to lance on the coms and try to break him out? Also congrats on the blog can't wait to see you grow :0
Lance had been trapped in the lift for what seemed like hours now, he wasn’t quite sure how long it had been, delirium taking over from the sheer lack of oxygen filling his lungs.
He had just wanted to go for a relaxing dip in the pool on his day off, as if he could get so lucky.
Sprawled out on the floor of the altean deathtrap gasping for breath, tears began to fill Lance’s eyes.
All the missions he’d gone on, all the injuries he sustained in the fight to protect the universe and this was how he was going to go; choking on his own breath in an elevator while his closest friends continue on with their day, not even noticing his disappearance.
He’d yelled for them. Over and over, nobody answered. The pain of being so disposable mirroring the ache in his heaving chest.
Mind going fuzzy and vision beginning to blur around the edges, Lance was about to let the appealing thought of an endless slumber take over his body when he heard the com crack on above.
“Lance? Lance! Talk to me buddy?”
The tears began to flow hard and fast down Lance’s face now, they did care.
“Hang tight Lance we’re getting you out now just breath for me”
Keith was a nervous wreck.
He’d spent the good part of three hours searching the ship top to bottom until Pidge suggested that maybe Lance was trapped in the lift.
Over the coms Keith tried to keep his cool so as not to scare Lance, but truth be told, he was at breaking point.
“Allura get him out NOW!”
“I’m working on it Keith please just try and relax a bit he’ll be fine”
Everyone seemed so calm about the whole situation which made Keith furious.
“How can you say that?! Just listen to him!” Keith screeched before pressing the button to the com so the entire room could hear Lance’s laboured breathing.
Seeing the distress take hold of his fellow paladin, Shiro moved over and placed a hand on Keith’s shoulder.
“I know you’re worried Keith but you’ve gotta be strong for him, okay?”
Sobs now wracking his already shaking form, Keith waited for the affirmative from Allura before rushing out of the crowded room and into the hallway just as the doors of the lift came whooshing open.
Bending down to the crumpled form on the floor he laced his gloved fingers through the other boys damp hair.
Eyes fluttering open, Lance drew in a shaky breath before launching into a coughing fit. Keith positioned himself behind the trembling boy, rubbing his hand up and down his back in the attempt to comfort him. When the harsh coughs had finally subsided Lance allowed himself to fall back into the warm embrace of Keith’s arms.
“H-heyy” he all but whispered, voice strained from his long since forgotten about screams for help.
Tears began to fill Keith’s eyes once more as he starred down at Lance’s beautiful caramel complexion that had been tinged blue from oxygen deprivation.
Practically launching himself onto the blue paladin Keith began to bawl.
“NEVER scare me like that again do you hear me? I was so worried I thought I thought-”
Keith was cut off.
“It’s okay, I-i’m okay now” Lance reassured.
“Y-yeah?” Keith sniffled.
“Yeah, you saved me, my knight in fluffy pajama bottoms” Lance joked, shooting Keith a smile that could melt the coldest of hearts.
God, he just couldn’t with this boy.
“Yeah. I’ve got you.”
Here it is!
I’m sorry if it’s really bad and really short this is my first fic :o
Thank you so much and again sorry for the poor quality I am here to improve :)
Request: you and Obi are on a mission when you’re seriously injured by Count Dooku. It is left up to Obi-Wan to save your life. Though, as your condition worsens, he begins to lose hope.
Kinda short but I know you guys have been waiting a while for me to post something. Hope you like it !! Love you guys !! 💖❤️💕
“No, (y/n). You cannot just waltz into Dooku’s ship and demand he return the holocron. Are you insane?” Obi-Wan asked you with a scowl. Truth be told, you wanted this mission to be over. Stuck on Dagobah for weeks with someone you loved but couldn’t have? It was torture. So, you were ready to do anything to retrieve the holocron that Dooku had stolen.
“Nope, just tired of being stuck on this planet with nothing to do but study the same trade routes over and over again” you retorted. “It’s overkill, Obi. We might as well just get it over with” you shrugged. Obi-Wan scoffed.
“I truly don’t understand how you could have been taught by Master Windu when you are this….reckless” he replied as he crossed his arms over his chest.
You decided you would just have to wait until Obi-Wan fell asleep before leaving. You could have used his help had he not been so stubborn.
You entered Dooku’s ship and immediately fell under attack. Battle droids shot at your ship as soon as you docked. Thankfully, it was a sturdy ship, so all you had to worry about was not getting yourself shot.
Your lightsaber easily sliced through the battle droids as you deflected the beams of plasma shooting from their blasters. You didn’t need Obi’s help, not when you were just so skilled yourself.
Suddenly, a wave of electricity sparked through you. You cried out in pain and dropped to the durasteel floor. Your lightsaber slid from your hand and skittered across the floor, hitting the toe of a boot. You slowly looked up from the stranger’s boot to their face. It was no stranger at all. It was Dooku.
“Looking for something, Master Jedi?” he smirked, outstretching his hand to show you the holocron. “Did you really think I wouldn’t see you coming?”.
You tried to stand, but you were knocked down by Dooku’s Force push. You were thrown back, hitting your head against a durasteel wall. Your vision became fuzzy and you were sure that you’d pass out at any moment. However, Dooku wasn’t done with you just yet.
Two droids hoisted you up off the ground and held you still as Dooku approached you. He held your lightsaber in his hand and glanced at it with mild curiosity.
“You weren’t planning on killing me and taking the holocron, were you?” he teased. You glared at him and spit in his face. This only angered Dooku further. He outstretched his hand and a burst of lightning instantly emanated from the tips of his fingers to your aching body.
The pain was fierce and overwhelming and you could only remember a faint voice in your head, which sounded strangely like Obi-Wan, begging you to hold on before you blacked out.
Obi-Wan watched you as you lay on your cot back on Dagobah. He’d fought Dooku and escaped with you on your ship. Still no holocron, but he didn’t care about that. All he cared about was making sure you woke up. Which, at the moment, seemed like it would take a miracle for that to happen.
You’d been in a coma for days. Obi-Wan had tried everything he could. He used his Force signature to attempt to transfer some of his strength to you. He meditated with you, trying to communicate with you because he knew you wouldn’t leave him. Not like this.
He loved you so dearly. He swore that his moon eyed Padawan days were over, and then he met you. He hadn’t ever seen you before since your Master was so strict. But, when he did finally meet you, he knew he was in love. He was a Padawan all over again.
“My dearest, please come back to me” he murmured. His hand grabbed your cold and limp one and gave it a squeeze. “If only you’d listened” he frowned. A tear trickled down his cheek and fell from his chin onto your shoulder. You felt it.
You were coming to. Your eyes fought to open and your brain tried to send signals to your limbs to get them to move. You wanted to tell Obi-Wan everything you thought you wouldn’t be able to. You had to tell him because you weren’t sure how much time you had left.
“Obi,” you licked your chapped lips as the words tumbled from your lips. Obi’s eyes widened as he jumped up.
“(Y/n)!” he exclaimed, instantly cupping your face in his hands. “Darling, you’re here..you came back” there was a light in his eyes that you had never seen before.
“I should tell you,” you croaked. Your arm shakily reached up. You brushed your fingertips across his cheekbone as he watched you intently. “I have always loved you. Every day” you were terribly weak, and you sunk back to the bed.
Your eyes grew heavy once more as you heard Republic ships in the distance. They had finally arrived for you.
“Wait, (y/n), please,” Obi-Wan grabbed your shoulders forcefully and pleaded with you to stay awake. He knew if you were to leave him now, it would be forever.
“I love you, I love you” you whispered to him softly. Had he been just a few inches farther away, he wouldn’t have heard it.
“I love you, Obi. I’m so sorry” and with that, your eyes closed once more.
You were inside a capsule, floating. Something had been fastened around your face. Everything was blurry. There were lights and, as you stared closer, people.
The bacta with which you were floating in immediately began to drain. As soon as your head was exposed to the oxygen, you ripped the mask off of you.
The people. You knew them. Your old Master, Master Yoda, Anakin, and of course, Obi-Wan.
You couldn’t help the wide grin that spread over your lips as your family crowded the tank, glad that you recovered from your encounter.
Though, at the moment, you only cared about one person. Obi-Wan rested his palm against the glass as he beamed at you. There was something different about him, but you couldn’t figure it out. So, you pressed your own palm against his. The layer of glass was the only thing separating the two of you.
Slowly, the Masters left the room as you were removed from your tank and able to walk again. Obi-Wan stayed behind, telling Master Yoda that he would keep an eye on you.
“Well, Master (l/n), you’ve made a full recovery. I do suggest you rest for the next few days, though” the healer told you. “And try not to get yourself killed next time” she teased. You laughed along, thanking the healer for all of her help.
“I never got to tell you, you know” Obi-Wan murmured after the healer left the room. You turned to him as knots began to tie in your stomach.
“Tell me what?” you asked Obi-Wan skeptically. “I told you so?” you questioned with an eye roll.
“That,” Obi chuckled as he stepped toward you confidently. “And there was something else” he came to stand directly in front of you. His hand reached up to stroke your cheek as he gazed lovingly into your eyes.
“And what might that be?” you asked him with a knowing smile. Obi leaned forward slowly and pressed his soft lips to yours. You rested your hands against his chest as he pulled you closer to him by your waist.
The kiss was all you’d expected. Passionate, slow, sensual, loving. It was so Obi-Wan. You couldn’t help the smile that claimed your lips after Obi-Wan pulled away.
“I meant to tell you that I love you too” he whispered. You rested your forehead against his and grinned up at him.
Imagine sex with Aleister Black. (Cause he doesn't strike me as being the vanilla type, ya know?)
A/N: ok now we’re gonna attempt to do kink proper. please be advised it has been some time since i have personally engaged in this kind of play, so i apologize if i have gotten something incorrect. we’re going off of memory and what the google machine has helped with. this has ventured into fic territory of its own accord and I ain’t even mad.
warnings; D/s sexplay, mentions of prior kink negotiation, proper use of safewords. spanking, finger sucking, choking, breathplay, orgasm denial
“Before we get into this, I want you to know that this… means a lot to me. It’s my job to take care of you and in return, I just ask that you trust me. If at any time, you feel uncomfortable, you use the words. Repeat them to me.”
You swallowed thickly,the heady cocktail of arousal, anticipation, and the tiniest bit of fear making your head swim. You’d never done anything like this before.Sure, some of your previous partners had spanked you during sex or placed a light hand around your throat, but this was different.
You’d been seeing Aleister for a couple months, your relationship with him becoming heavy and intense quite quickly. His appearance was a touch intimidating, given the all the tattoos, his sheer size, the mohawk, and the full beard. Underneath it all was a intelligent, compassionate, and above all gentle man. It wasn’t until a couple of weeks ago that he’d told you his particular tastes.
You couldn’t deny it, you were curious. Aleister was quietly pleased by all your questions and he was tireless in answering all of them. He preferred to be called sir, he kept the power play in the proverbial bedroom and wasn’t interested in anything even remotely resembling total power exchange, and had a taste for sadism. You had your reservations though.
You were touched by Aleister’s honesty in expressing his desires to you, so it was only fair that you told him what made you hesitant. He was quick to assuage all your fears, explaining that it was the submissive could take control back at any time, that there are safewords and signals used that can slow down the play or halt it altogether. That your hard boundaries would be respected to the highest degree.
You agreed to try, for him.
And that’s how you found yourself, standing in just a matching black lace bra and panty set, arms wrapped protectively around yourself. Aleister was staring at you expectantly, waiting for you to speak.
“Green, for everything is okay. Orange, for slow down. Red, for stop.”
He nodded, a small smile pulling at his lips.
“I mean that. If it ever becomes too much, say Red and it all stops, with no questions asked.”
You nodded, feeling more at ease and you let go of the breath you didn’t know you were holding. Aleister sensed that you had relaxed and closed the distance between the two of you, sweeping you into a fierce kiss that made the blood in your veins hum with pleasure.
It was a low, growled command that sent a bolt of excitement straight to your core and you sunk to your knees with your hands clasped behind your back. His hands were steady and sure as he undid the fly and zipper of his black jeans and pushed down both the denim and his boxer briefs, revealing his already half hard cock.
“Open and suck.”
God, the way he issued that commands worked for you, his voice gravelly and stern. You leaned in, bringing your hands from behind your back to assist and brace yourself on his hip. Your lips were just a millimeter away from touching the thick head of his half hard member, your fingers ghosting along him when Aleister spoke again.
“Hands behind your back. Your mouth only.”
You looked up, startled, at his words and you slowly moved to clasp your hands behind your back at the dark heat in his eyes. A large hand gently grasped the back of your head, pulling you forward. You needed no further prompting, wrapping your lips around him. Every bob of your head was met with a shallow thrust from his hips, driving himself deeper into your mouth inch by inch.
“Eyes on me.”
You snapped your eyes up to his and you were pleased in the most feminine of ways when his breath caught and he gave the smallest of moans at a particularly clever pattern your tongue traced. All too soon, your nose was pressed up against his pubic bone, the length of him hot down your throat. Aleister held you there, for a moment, his hand firm at the back of your head and murmuring about how you were such a good girl.
The lack of air was beginning to make your vision go fuzzy when Aleister withdrew almost completely from your mouth. You were able to take a wild inhale of precious air, before you were caught off guard by the quick snap of his hips, driving himself to the back of your throat. Instinctively, your eyes began to water and your hands came up to grasp his hips in an attempt to control his movements.
Aleister stopped, removed himself from your mouth, and tutted his disappointment.
“I told you no hands. Such a shame, you were being such a good girl. I didn’t want to punish you, but I believe I have to now.”
A jolt of fear pulsed through your system and you spluttered, trying to explain yourself. “I didn’t mean to, I swear, I just reacted. I-”
He held a hand up, a small smile on his face, and he moved to sit on the edge of the bed. “I know, (Y/N), but I gave you an instruction and you didn’t follow it. I wouldn’t have let you fall, but you need to trust me to take care of you. Now, bend over my knee.”
You stood, on shaky legs and quickly made your way to bend over his tattooed thighs. The overwhelming need to please and be good for Aleister had caught you by surprise, but you were practically shaking like a leaf as you lay prone across his lap, your lace covered posterior in the air. Aleister’s left arm banded around your low back and his hand clasped your hip to anchor your in tight as his right hand began to rub the soft flesh of your ass.
“I think ten should be sufficient. You are to count each, am I understood?”
You nodded, the breath rushing out of your lungs as his long fingers dipped between your thighs to press against the hot slick that you had been trying to ignore in an effort to be good. You heard the barest of groans from Aleister, along with some muttered Dutch.
The first slap to your right cheek caught you off guard, the crack of hand against the soft globe of flesh echoed through the bedroom, and you shrieked at the sudden burst of pain. The sting was almost enough to make you forget to count, but Aleister had paused just long enough for you to whimper.
The second came just after you finished the word, this time to your left buttock. You gasped out two, the sharp pain sending a sharp spike of arousal to your belly and you writhed in Aleister’s lap, doing your best to soothe the sting of your flesh and the ache between your thighs. It wasn’t just you that was affected, if the iron-like ridge digging into the flesh of your stomach was any indication.
“Stop moving. If you continue, I will have to add another five to your count.”
You nodded quickly, whispering, “Yes sir.”
The next four strikes came in rapid succession, each alternating which globe of flesh they hit and always in the same spot. By the seventh strike, you didn’t realize you were sobbing, tears streaming down your face and an overwhelming ache between your thighs. Small tremors were rocking your body and you were sure that your butt cheeks were cherry red by the sting that radiated from there.
“(Y/N), give me a color.”
Aleister’s voice was low and soothing, touched with worry and concern. This grip on your hip relaxed, his thumb was rubbing soft circles into your skin and the hand that had been spanking you was trailing gently along the soft skin of your thighs. Your sobs mellowed into hiccups, the tears slowing on your face. God, you hated that you did badly…
“Please, (Y/N), I need a color.”
Your lips trembled and you kept trying to breathe through your hiccups.
“O-orange. I-I’m sorry. Orange.”
Aleister took a sharp inhale of breath and then suddenly you were straddling his lap, his lips ghosting against yours and his hands lightly massaging your abused flesh. His touch made gooseflesh break out across your body, the mixture of pleasure-pain setting every nerve ending on edge.
“Thank you for trusting me. Are you okay to continue?”
You nodded jerkily, your hips bearing down and grinding of their own accord, looking for any sort of relief. The words just came out, as a babble and you didn’t know if you could stop them.
“I’m s-sorry I couldn’t do it all the way. Please don’t be mad, I still want this and I still want you and I just want you to be hap-”
He cut you off with a soul searing kiss, stealing the breath right out of your lungs. You were eager to return the kiss, the tears on your face rapidly drying and the warm metal of his lip piercing combined with the soft scratch of his beard only adding to the pulsing ache between your legs. His arms tightened around you, one of his hands slipping through your parted thigh and underneath the soaked lace to massage the slick, swollen bundle of nerves.
Your back bowed at the contact, a broken moan tearing from your throat as Aleister began to press open mouthed kisses along your decollete. His hand stilled, his fingers still pressed against your clit, and you just couldn’t control it, your hips riding his digits feverishly looking for any sort of relief from the tension.
“You are perfect.”
He was quick to pick you up in his arms and flip your positions so you were lying flat on your back. He hooked his fingers in the band of the lace panty and with a quick jerk, ripped the delicate fabric from your body. The squeak that you made from the sting of the fabric biting into your skin quickly morphed into a whine, as Aleister spread your legs wide and rubbed the thick head of his cock up and down your slit.
The torture continued for several moments, his tip rubbing against your swollen nub slow enough to make your toes curl.
“Aleister, s-sir please. I need you.”
His lips curled into a smile, his chest swelling with pride.
“Since you asked so prettily.”
He lined himself to your center and drove home with a snap of his hips. You mewled at the sudden, but welcome intrusion, your internal muscles grasping at his length greedily. Aleister gave you no time to adjust to his size, thrusting and grinding at a demanding pace. It was all you could do to grasp at his tattooed forearms as an anchor, your fingernails creating little half moon indentations. You were so close, the ball of tension becoming almost unbearably tight.
A large, tattooed hand wrapped around your throat, the heel of his palm pressing into your airway and the tips of his index and middle fingers were resting on your lips. The pressure of his hand on your throat made your feminine walls flutter, your toes curling in anticipation. His words made you pause.
“You will not cum until I say you can, understood?”
You whined in protest, beyond words at this point, bearing down greedily on his cock. The pressure on your throat increased at the same time Aleister slowed to thrusts so shallow, that you could barely tell he was moving.
“Do you understand?”
You nodded jerkily, your hands dropping to the sheet and clenching at the soft fabric in the hopes of staving off your own release. It was probably the hardest thing you had ever done, because Aleister was ruthless. There was a hand on your throat restricting your airflow and the other was rubbing merciless circles around your clit. It took everything you had in you to not give in, to be good, and to follow what you were told.
You needed something to distract yourself from the feel of him in and around you. The idea struck you as the rough pad of his middle finger brushed your lower lip. On the digits next pass over your mouth, you parted your lips and captured the rough pad in your mouth.
Aleister’s hips stuttered almost imperceptibly at the sudden heat that enveloped his finger. It was when you rolled your tongue over the calloused digit and looked up at Aleister from underneath your lashes did he seem to lose control.
His hips met yours over and over again, the sensitive and heated flesh of your ass being pressed into the mattress, pairing pain and pleasure again in the most dizzying of ways. The room was filled with the slapping of flesh on flesh, ragged groans, and high pitched mewls. Aleister placed more pressure on your neck, oxygen quickly becoming precious, and the finger rubbing at the bundle of nerves just above your connection to him became more insistent.
“Now, (Y/N). Cum now.”
The command was like a livewire straight to your core and your body arched upwards in release at the same time that Aleister let go of his grip on your throat. That first gasp of air intensified your orgasm and your vision whited out.
This felt like the longest orgasm of your life, your body overcome by the clenching and releasing of muscles in pleasure. You could feel yourself babbling, about what, you didn’t know. In the distance, you could hear a roar which you thought was from Aleister.
He collapsed against you, catching most of his weight on his forearms and his head resting against your breast. He made no motions to disconnect from you, his cock slowly softening as he pressed light kisses to the skin of your chest, while mumbling something in Dutch.
“Can… we do that again?”
Aleister looked up, his eyes soft and his grin wide.
Lunchtime Drabble: See Me (16/?) Pairing: Leonard McCoy x Fem!Reader, Kirk x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 1040 Series Warnings: Some swearing, mention of death, a few injuries. Series Masterlist so you can catch up!
Even though you had slept for the past two days, you slept soundly through the night. Christine woke you the next morning with breakfast and some news. Spock was planning on speaking with you today. After breakfast, Christine gave you a clean red uniform dress that the requisitions officer had dropped off and after a shower and getting dressed, you were beginning to feel like yourself again. Sitting at the small table in your room, you began fiddling with the small square machine Scotty gave you. The more you played with it, the more you were convinced that it was an old recording device. The power supply was drained and you were just thinking about a good substitute when Leonard came in.
Neil travels, but he doesn’t know where or when he is most of the time, too disoriented to pay attention. Once or twice he actually sees Andrew, strapped down in a bed, eyes haunted and unsurprised at Neil’s appearance. When Neil opens his mouth to say something, his vision clouds and fades to black.
Once he ends up on the roof next to Andrew, not his Andrew, one who must already be sober. He looks Neil up and down, taking in his changed appearance—the bandages on his face, hair scrubbed and re-dyed its natural color, Ravens gear—and his mouth quirks in something approximating a frown.
Welcome Home - Josh Washington x Reader (Until Dawn)
There were many things that Josh wish he could have done
differently, that if he had the time to sit down and list them all, it would
take years to finish naming them all. But as he was tugging the scarf that
coved his face despite already wearing a mask, he decided to list some of them.
He would have been a better brother for his sisters. He
would have stayed sober that night that his sisters ran into the forest. He
wouldn’t have stopped taken his meds that sent his mind into a spiral. He
wouldn’t have played the prank that nearly got all his friends, if he could
still call them that. He wouldn’t have restored to eating human meat down in
the mines, because it wasn’t too long later than they found him, but the
wendigo curse was already upon him.
He wasn’t sure what happened in the months after the wendigo
curse took over, all he remembered was being dragged down to the mines by the
monster that used to be his sister, Hannah, the hunger that he felt in the
mines. He wasn’t sure how many days he spent there. The last thing he could
officially remember was finally giving into the hunger that took over his
sister, and then that’s when things got fuzzy. He had visions of seeing the
Cree natives chanting, a pain deep coursing throughout his body that felt like
lava coursing his veins; being locked up in a steel room, flashes of hearing
people calling him a monster.
Then he remembered hearing his mother and father whispering
his name, and that was that. According to his doctors and the Cree natives, he
was free of the wendigo curse, or at least most of it. Josh hard time believing
that because when he looks at his reflection, all he sees is the monster that
his friends called him over and over. The scar on his left cheek running up to
nearly his ear, his eyes were gladly back to normal, but they still had a
slight scar on his right eye. His teeth even though he had them filed down,
they still remained sharp since there was only so much he could file before
they became too painful for him to bear.
Josh was at the local park, wanting to look down a phone,
but at the same time he didn’t.
He felt nervous because of the one person that was going to
meet. (Y/N), the love of his life since before he knew what love was as kids.
You were always there for him, and valued him as a person and not because of
his name and status as son of a famous film director, much like his friend
Chris, but they bond you had with him was different. You hadn’t been part of the prank, because you
weren’t there since you were with your own family that cold dark weekend, but
when you heard the news of his sisters, you were there for him like no other.
You would help him with his nightmares, even if it meant
staying up all night with Josh on the phone or in person. You would hold his
hand as he drove to his therapy sessions. You were his light when the world
around him was dark and grey. But even the brightest of lights couldn’t shine
in the darkest parts of his mind. Despite you being with him through his
troubles, even you weren’t enough to shake him from his thoughts of revenge. He
wanted them to pay, he wanted them to feel the same heart racing, anxiety, fear
that his sisters felt.
So when he invited his so called friends back to Blackwood Mountain,
he said that it would be best if you didn’t go. You had insisted on going,
wanting to be there for him on the anniversary of his sisters’ disappearance,
because you knew that his mood could drastically change from one moment to
another. But he said that it would be better to stay, since you being there
would make them feel odd since you weren’t there when it happened, saying it
was more of a way to mend what happened that night between them.
You sighed and trusted him, leaning up to kiss his lips just
asking him to come back to you, and he promised he would. He really did want to
bring you along but he knew the best way of keeping you safe would be to keep
you as far away from the lodge as possible, because with your kind nature, he
knew that you would be caught up in his prank. But he wasn’t able to keep his
But as he stood under the lamppost, he reached for a small
photograph that he had kept in his pocket since he could remember, even in the
dark of the mines; he knew that he held onto it. He stared down at it, the
photo of you and him. You and him when you visited in the summer at his lodge.
You were caught kissing in the forest, and Beth and Hannah thought that it was
too good of a moment to not capture.
This photo helped him when he was recovering after those few
months after his ritual, since you reminded him of what it meant to be human,
and not like the monster he felt like he still is. Josh felt like he didn’t
deserve you after everything that’s he’s done, but Chris insisted that he met
up with you. In fact it was Chris that called you to meet him.
Josh was scared that at the mere mention of your name, that
you would have nothing to do with him, especially after everything that the
gang would have told you of what he put them through, but to his surprise you
He finally looked down at his phone, only five more minutes
till six, and the time you and Chris arranged, Josh had honestly been here
since five not knowing what else to do with his time, and giving him enough
time to calm his nerves. But so far each minute that past just sent his nerves
on a growing slope. He looked down at the photo, seeing how happy you were as
you kissed him, and thought of the other photos of you that he had kept throughout
your relationship, each of them filled with happiness that was because of him.
frames and albums filled of your pictures from when you were friends in
elementary to when you were dating in your second year of high school, he would
always notice the small details of your face, that if someone were to hand him
a photo of you he could pretty much tell how old you were, that’s how well he
paid attention to detail.
But one thing that never changed was the smile that you
reserved just for him, and right now that’s what worried him. Josh worried that
you would never smile for him again, that instead of giving him the smile he
loves, you would frown in anger and fear, especially once you would see the
changes his face has gone through. He was scared that he wouldn’t your Josh, the man that you would whisper
sweet nothings to as he held you till you both fell asleep, the guy that you
said you would always love, but instead be the Josh the monster, the wendigo,
the sick murder, that the voices in his head chanted over and over when he was
growing a tolerance to his medication.
One more minute…his stomach clenched, he felt nauseous like
he was going to throw up, never had he felt so sick in stomach, not even when
he ate the very thing that made him a wendigo. He looked down at the photo,
hoping it would calm him like it always does, but it didn’t, in fact it made
him feel worse.
It would be his fault
if things turn out bad, it would be his fault if he alone, and it would be his
fault if you walked out of him. His
fault, all of it, his fault. The voice in his head, now becoming voices,
chanting that it was his fault, all of it, he deserved to be alone.
And just like that the voices were silent. Josh didn’t want
to look up, he was afraid that the voice that he heard was just part of his
imagination, like the way he heard it in the mines over and over again but just
teasing him of what he lost and reminding him that you wouldn’t be there to
save him like you normally would.
Josh was paralyzed with doubt.
“Josh, is that you?” hearing the voice closer than before.
Josh knew that he had to look up, the urge to see her
burning deep in his veins. Josh’s green
eyes looked up, seeing there the one person he thought that he would never see
again. The girl that still owns his heart to this day and pretty sure always
will. (h/c) flowed down your shoulders, different then he last saw it but still
beautiful as he remembered, the features of your face that made him want to
shower you kisses as he mapped out your face and body with gentle kisses and
soft touches. But what stood out to him the most were your eyes, a beautiful
shade of (e/c) one that he could get lost him. Green met (e/c) but the moment
that he felt a smile coming through his mask, he saw your eyes begin to water.
His heart was breaking…he had barely even said a word and you
were already crying. He couldn’t handle this, it was too much for him, and he
needed to leave…now! He quickly shoved the picture in his jacket and stood up,
and to walk away, not wanting to hear you say that you were scared of him. He
had only taken two steps when he felt two arms wrap around his torso. He knew
that he could easily break free of your hold, wouldn’t be that hard, but he
couldn’t, in fact he wanted to stay in your arms forever, because to him it was
one of the few hugs he received since he was ‘cured’.
“Please don’t leave me, not again,” did all you could
whisper to him, not want to let him go.
Your words struck a chord in him, you still cared…about him.
He wanted to say something, but he wasn’t sure how to respond, his deformities
now bearing all the weight, because he wasn’t the same Josh that left to Blackwood
Mountain nearly a year ago, he was different both physically and mentally.
“(Y/N),” your name rolling off so smoothly from his mouth,
one of the few times he said it without crying, since recovering his humanity.
The hold on Josh tightened the moment he whispered your
name. He pried your hand off, letting him turn to face your tear streaked face.
He looked down at his hands, double checking that they looked normal, like a
human because right now he felt more like a monster compared to you, he placed
his hands on your cheeks. The warm skin beneath his fingers, making this feel
real to him, you were here…with him, you weren’t a figment of his imagination
like in the mines.
You leaned in towards his touch, your reddened lips pressing
a small kiss against his palm, tasting the saltiness of your tears. “You’re
actually here, you’re alive,” you whimpered, “I missed you so much Josh.”
It was funny; those were Josh’s same exact thoughts.
“(Y/N),” at this point he wondered if that was all he could
say, “I’m sorry for everything, all of it, I should’ve…”
“Joshua Washington you have nothing to be sorry for, none of
it was your fault,” your voice coming out a bit harsh, but you needed him to
know that you don’t blame him for anything that happened that night.
“But if it wasn’t because of me, no one would’ve gotten
hurt, not Sam, Chris, Jessica, none of them.
And it was my fault that I ate…” not wanting to continue those last few
“Josh it wasn’t your fault, you had no control over what
happened that night, no one did. and what happened down there in the mines, you
had to do what you needed to survive, I don’t blame you for anything, I’m just
so glad you’re here, you have no idea how much I missed you” leaning in to hug
“If it’s anything like the way I missed you…then I think I
have an idea,” he said wrapping his arms around you.
Your warmth seeped into him and his onto you. This was
something that he missed, the feeling of being cared for. Josh didn’t even know
that he was crying till he felt his vision blur, but he did silently, glad that
despite going to hell and back, you were still the same as always, beautiful
and kind inside and out. But he knew that as much as he wanted to bask in your
light, he didn’t deserve it, none of it at all, it was the only way that he
felt that he could pay for what he’s done, for the monster he considers
himself. Because in his mind monsters and demons don’t get the happy ending,
they don’t fall in love with angels, and especially don’t get to be loved by
But the selfish part of him wanted to keep you, but he
needed to unselfish for once, as he pushed away.
“I’m sorry (Y/N), I can’t do this, I thought I could but I
can’t,” his voice wavering as part of his heart wanted to take it all back.
“Josh, don’t push me away again,” wanting to hug him again,
but his strength keeping you at a distance.
“(Y/N), I’m doing this for your own good, you can’t be with
me, I’m not good for you, I wish I was”, he said feeling his own heart break at
seeing how broken you were becoming, you weren’t meant to have a frown on your
face, your smile was beautiful yet he hated that the reason you weren’t smiling
was because of him, “but I’m not (Y/N), I don’t think I ever was.”
“Josh, I love you, I don’t care what happened in the
mountains, wasn’t your fault, if anything I feel bad that I couldn’t notice
that you were hurting that bad, I’m sorry Josh,” you said wanting to fall into
his arms again.
Salty tears were trailing down your face, making Josh feel guiltier
but he knew that this was the better option, he couldn’t hurt you again and he
knew that if you stayed with him, he could hurt you, since at times he wasn’t
sure that he was fully cured from the wendigo spirit. His heart was clenching,
it was in his instinct to always be there for you, to make you smile, and this
was going against that nature, but he had to follow through…it was the only way
he knew that he could keep you safe…from him.
“I’m a monster (Y/N), they don’t deserve happiness, I don’t
deserve you at all, its best if you leave me,” his jaw clenching underneath his
mask and scarf.
“You don’t know what’s best for me Josh, because if you
did…you would know that you’re what’s best for me. You’re my best friend Josh, and
you’ve been with me through everything, my highs and my lows. You know me best,
you’re patient with me, and you love me. No one else is going to love me like
the way you do Josh,” your hand reaching out for his face, wanting to caress
his cheek like the way you normally did, but he immediately pulled his face
back, almost as if your touch would burn him, making you pull back your hand
with an even more broken heart.
“that’s not true, there are people who will love you more
than I can, and are better for you than me…millions out there that are better
than a monster like me,” his voice becoming a bit deeper as he wanted to keep
himself calm but deep down his heart was breaking as much as yours.
“Stop calling yourself a monster! You are not a monster, and
I don’t want any of them…I want you!” Feeling you come undone with each passing
“Yes I am!” losing his calm slowly, he wished that you would
listen to him, but he knew that it was because you loved him that you didn’t
want to leave.
“No you aren’t!” more tears steaking down your face.
Finally knowing that there was only one way to make you see
the monster that he is, he pulled off his mask and scarf, letting you see his
face the scars that ran up to his cheek, marred skin near his lips, and the
fang like teeth, letting you see what he was trying to make you understand, “I
am a monster, this is what a monster looks like.” He looked down not wanting to
see how you were most likely scared of his appearance, not wanting to see those
rejecting eyes that were sure to come.
He expected you to scream or run, but instead there was a
long silence. He felt like his heart was breaking all over again, were you
scared of him that you couldn’t move. He couldn’t do anything but wait till you
left. He wanted to cry, but he would do that when he gets home, he didn’t
deserve to cry in front of you, not when this was what he thought he wanted.
Finally he heard steps, he shut his eyes, and you were
leaving him. He wanted to keep you, but this was for the best. A warm touch
landed on his cheeks, gently ghosting over the scars on his face, almost like a
Your eyes were puffy and red, from crying, but held a look
of wonder on them, as they took in his new appearance. The pads of your fingers
gently applying gentle pressure that made him lean into your touch like how he
always does, making your palm feel his new fang like teeth, he momentarily felt
you tense, but quickly ease into it. His eyes were analyzing you, wanting to
see a fraction of fear but nothing it was just wonder that was laced across
“you’re still beautiful to me,” you whispered your eyes
finally locking with his giving him a smile, which he returned with a small one
of his own, “you’re still not a monster to me,” you finished as you leaned up
to place a gentle kiss against his scarred skin, going in slowly in case he
pulls back but he didn’t.
Your lips against his skin was another thing he missed; but
he didn’t think he would miss it as much as he did right now. It still ensured
him of how much you cared for him, as he relaxed in your kiss, he badly wanted
to kiss you, but didn’t want to startle you. “I still love you Josh, this
doesn’t change anything” you said as you leaned against his shoulder, feeling
your own cheeks burn as being so close to him again, taking him all in scent
since the sweaters that you kept no longer smelled like him, which always
something you loved. “but I understand if you don’t love me anymore, I’ll stay
away if you want me to, just promise me that you won’t call yourself a monster”
you said expecting the worse.
You felt his chest vibrate as a laugh escaped his mouth,
“I’m always going to love you (Y/N), but I’m dangerous, I mean look at me,” he
said with a broken smile.
“Josh do you want to hurt me?” you whispered.
“No, that’s the last thing I ever wanted to do,” he
“Then you aren’t dangerous to me Josh, I told you, this
doesn’t make a difference to me, you’re still the Josh I know, the Josh I love,
my Josh,” you said with a smile.
Something inside him snapped, pulling you into his arms. He finally
let the tears out, as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, letting
take in your scent, and just like you…it reminded him of home, a home that he
thought he that he lost a long time ago when he awoke in those mines. Your neck
was becoming wet with his tears, but you were sure that you were making a wet
spot on his shirt was well, with your own tears. You hugged him close, loving
the feel of being in his arms.
Warmth was what Josh felt, like the warmth of coming home
from a snowstorm was what this reminded him of. Everything about you still felt
like home, he couldn’t push you away, not anymore, not when you wanted him, and
when it came to you…he couldn’t deny you anything for too long. And the selfish
part of him craved your attention that you were so willing to give him, maybe
because you really did remind him what it was to be human, a human in love.
“I missed you so much,” he whispered against your neck,
wanting to kiss your neck but was afraid of hurting you. “I thought I would
never see you again.”
“I missed you too.”
There was so much pain that needed to be mended between the
two of you. It was felt, your tears proof of that. You both had unvoiced pain
that you wondered how long it would be till everything was as it used to, so
full of love and admiration, that you wondered if you ever go back to that, but you would still want to try. You pulled
back slightly just too look at his face, really trying to take in his new
“Can I kiss you?” he whispered, almost reminding you of the
first time he kissed you, so shy and nervous.
You nodded, leaning up a bit for him. Josh took in a breath
of air, still amazed that you would still want him, especially like this. His
hand cupped your face, leaning your face up towards him. He looked at your
face, into your eyes wanting to make sure that this was ok. Seeing no hesitance,
he leaned in and closed the space between your lips. He was careful of his
teeth, not wanting to hurt you, but he missed this, missed kissing you all the
time, when he would see you in the morning, or when he would drop you off, or
at night when you stayed the night at his place, reminding him of the home that
you provided for him. He relished the feeling of your lips against his, how
soft they were against the scarred corner of his lips. He wished things were
different, but not at the expense if it would change how he felt right now. You
wanted more, wanting to feel more of Josh after not having him for so long. He
wanted more too, slowly opening up the kiss more, nearly making you moan as you
felt his teeth brush against your bottom lip, which encouraged him to actually
nibble your lips, this time making you moan as your grip on shirt tightened,
which made Josh smirk against your lip.
He was hungry, not for flesh, but for you. He wanted to quench
his thirst of you, but that would have to wait when he felt more control of
himself. He wanted more, feeling his body burn with you, pulling you closer
wanting and needing to feel your love again. Josh broke the kiss, loving the
look on your face, your eyes lulled over with a lust like haze, your lips reddened
from his kiss and bites, the quick breaths that made your chest rise, which
wanted him to mark it all with his bites, especially with how your skin glowed
under the light of the lamp post.
“You have no idea how much I missed you (Y/N),”pressing a
kiss on your forehead
“Welcome home Josh,” you said with a smile as you pulled him
to a hug again.
He still thinks that he’s not completely human, yes the
curse is lifted, but he still didn’t feel like he is fully. But maybe with you,
you could really teach him what it meant to be human, starting with the love
that you would give him, and he would give you. but since that fateful night
when he landed in the mines, almost a year ago…he finally did feel like he was
home, because to him, home was where you were, not his room, not the hospital,
not the lodge, but here with you in his arms, because that’s where his heart
was, in your hands.
Josh was finally home, “it’s good to be home (Y/N)” pulling
you closer under the light of the lamppost, “I promise I won’t leave you
again,” and this time he meant it.
never thought i would write something this long, but couldnt stop writing once i started, and felt that it would be to odd to cut it to two pieces.