his eyes are only going to be the start

— the only things I can say are the most biting words I know.

RK900 × Reader.

chapter six.
word count: 1712.
warnings: slight personal sense of hate towards religion??
about the cats&dogs AU

chapter five.

if it wasn’t for the fact that you’re not egocentric – like him – now your head would start to produce some fucked up conspiracy theory about how CyberLife created him to make you go insane.
because, honestly, everything regarding him makes you crazy. his spiky tail, his dark ears, his bitchy LED, his broad figure, his stupid hair, his feral eyes, his sharp fangs– ahhhh! enough thinking about him! you have to think about the case now! focus! you have to be calm, to elaborate a strategy to beat him in this, you have to. you huff in annoyance, your tail slightly moving in a nervous manner while ‘my favorite things’ plays in the background of your car ride. fuck.

you exit the automobile. a loud noise follows and you lock it. there is it, the shelter. ‘Oasis’. a tall building made of discoloured bricks, dyed with a charcoal gray, the passage of dust and smog. ironic how it reminded you of that dumb wolf.

the bustle makes you sick. at the front desk there’s a woman. one would expect an android, but not here, not where heaps and tons of people amass themselves every day. in need of a place to do Red Ice or to seriously get their life back together doesn’t matter. but then again, maybe, one wouldn’t expect a person either, since the majority of them fled after the revolution. just some remained, just some were slowly starting to return. an oxymoron, in a sense, that Detroit began to resemble an idyllic human city only when there were fewer in it.

you showed your badge and received an annoying look, something about ‘can’t they at least show up in pairs? jeez’ got under your cap. fuck. he was already there. you really need to thank Gavin later, you think, as you get into the one main big room. yellow acid walls. scraped. so badly that you could see parts where the paint came off and left the visibly grey plaster exposed. of course, even in this mess, there was no way you couldn’t spot that fucking tall android of your partner “You’re late, detective.” his arms are crossed. you lean onto the surface that his back is not touching. is he afraid of getting dirty? “Or you’ve been here longer and I didn’t realize. If that’s the case I apologise, humans in need all appear so similar.” oh come on, this trite shit again? you’re too angry with him to start an argument about his blatant superiority complex “I didn’t think you were one to play rough.” you cross your arms too, upset “I did not such thing.” neither of you is looking at the other, instead both watching ahead “Liar.” a light shift of his weight, his posture doesn’t change but he’s now directing his glare at you, unfeeling “I don’t lie.” you doubt that “I might have purposely kept some pieces of information for myself but you should have done your individual research too, detective.” did he think he was intimidating? eh, you’re not scared of him anymore. yes he may have caught you by surprise the first time and the second time, but there’s not gonna be a third, of this you’re sure “Yeah, I’m sorry I actually trusted you. Don’t worry, it won’t happen in the future.” you grit through your teeth. he raises a brown, his LED yellow, is he registering something? is he scanning you? your lips curl and you break eye contact with him, facing forwards. god how much you wanted to put your hands around his neck and strangle him “So? It’s your win?” a moment of silence between you two “…. Not yet. But I can wait.” true, a pack of wolves can trail a prey for days before making a move. but you nonetheless smirk endlessly at his admitted ‘defeat’. so it’s an impasse, mh? you figured. it was pretty much obvious with all the disgusted stares the homeless were giving him. they won’t talk. it’s this your chance to win? “You’re stuck, ah?” he doesn’t reply. you take that as a ‘yes’ and start moving across the beds, leaving him behind. but every time you show your tablet with a photo of the victim they shy away. they hate the police. you sigh, ugh, maybe this is going to be a lot harder than you’d expected, even without your bad wolf at your heels “You’re stuck?” his voice mocks you, his head lowered to your cheek level, a whisper. you weren’t aware that he moved “You’re scaring my witnesses, you creep.” a low chuckle that you never heard before. or perhaps it was a weird growl? “I don’t see any, detective.” ‘then you’re blind’ that’s what you were about to retort before hearing a heinous chime. your ears wiggle in protest while the room starts to grow empty “What the fuck.” you muttered to yourself, people forming a stream in the same direction under your surprised face “This is a religious shelter.” oh, fucking perfect. you give the fakest smile ever, turning your head to his, 3 inches away “And this is my personal space.” he goes back to his usual stance without a word. there’s no harm in following, then.

you both get to another room, not as ruined as the other, covered in a daunting white. slowly everyone places themselves in a half-circle: in the centre a wooden altar, seeming almost hastily done. you can’t help but do anything and wait. he does the same. in the middle you pinpoint a man, a snake, his light green scales adorning the sides of his long neck until it is met by a purple tunic. they start to chant. shivers run down your spine at that sound. it’s not bad, you don’t hate it, yet your body reacts for you “You’re not going to join them in prayer, detective?” he can probably notice your tail swinging a bit at this point “I have my own personal Jesus.” you click your tongue, yes, you know that if you want a place to sleep you have to put up with pious drills like these, but still “Weird. I thought dogs loved to follow their owners.” fuck with this dog shit, wolf. you bit your lower lip, irritated. cults didn’t do anything to you specifically but when you think about the pain they inflicted on your people, the slaughter lasted millennia, the stigma they put on one colour because of an archenemy they invented themselves, well, when you think about all that you only feel venom towards them “Sheeps do that too. But I don’t have horns.”

when the room goes quiet you two move at the same time and begrudgingly walk in the direction of the priest. you don’t like when you’re so in sync. before approaching him he twists his head, his branched tongue analyzing the air “To what do I owe the pleasure of having two copss in this humble home?” you can’t stand this guy already “Detectives.” you correct him “We’re investigating on someone who used to come here.” he carefully examines the digital photo you hand him “Yess, our good brother Johanness. What did he do?” you’re about to tell him– “Died.” did he just said that. you can’t believe he’s such a bitch “Yes. I regret to inform you that he was killed last night.” you’re quick on remedying his error. the snake, however, is unphased “How…. Unfortunate. I will ssay a prayer for him.” you bet he couldn’t care less “Memo will be very ssad.” who is Memo now? why can’t you have simple cases for once? “Memo?” you tentatively ask “Memo iss – rather wass a good friend of Johanness.” can’t he stop with this tic, it’s unbearable “And where is he now?” you politely prompt “You could find him in the kitchen.”

and he was there. or, at least, that’s what the ‘facial recognition software’ said “Memo?” a crouched guy, in a corner, pairing potatoes. he doesn’t respond. his ears are brown and large; he must be some kind of rodent “Memo?” you try once more but no answer. suddenly you feel a grasp around your forearm. you would very much like to cuss at RK900’s behaviour but you stop when you gaze at the man’s lap. his trousers soiled with blood. gosh nobody was aware of that?
talking about your stupid android’s conduct, he feels the best course of action is to growl. like, really? okay it may not be on purpose this time but. his ineptitude in comprehending social customs baffles you. you don’t growl at someone who’s too scared to react, especially at a mouse, because that– that will make him run away.
“You’re a special kind of stupid, aren’t you?” you snarl while sprinting behind the suspect, wolf stays back, is he lazy or he’s simply letting you work out? it’s an easy catch, as a cat you were born for this and though his initial head start you manage to grab his red hoodie and pull him back to you, successfully neutralizing him by pinning his body on the ground.

despite your protests he was the one to handcuff him. Memo didn’t try to resist. not anymore. by now fully catatonic. he took four potatoes to peel off during the trip to the station. you pitied him. whatever he did, whatever had gone to his head in the heat of the moment – he didn’t seem a bad guy. neither Johannes did “Who won?” you nonchalantly inquire, your eyes glued to the window. he doesn’t speak “I said–” he doesn’t let you finish “I heard.” ah yeah, you forgot how much of a bitch he actually is “Care to add anything?” he hums, low “I was thinking.” oh wow, he was thinking “And?” and that’s it, apparently “Listen, let’s pretend we’re even, okay?” you were going to regret not taking advantage of this “Treat me right and we’ll get along. Or not. We don’t have to do that. But it would be nice.” another silence and you sigh, fuck him “I understand.” you look at him, dumbfounded. no, he doesn’t fucking understand.


taglist — @oddcompass-writings, @94hgh, @jamiethenerdymonster, @jaylarkson, @cynicalchildrants, @why-fren, @twitchybones

So one time in my 10th grade English class, we were doing a journalism-related project where we had to look through a newspaper for certain articles and cut them out and study them, I don’t remember exactly why. The teacher brought in a huge stack of newspapers and we all grabbed one and started doing our thing. 

I wanna stress that Mr. B was an incredibly chill teacher and was super good, and he really believed that high school students should be encouraged to take responsibility for their education and that teachers should be willing to engage in deep conversations with their classes. He was almost always willing to answer questions. But this ended up proving too much for even poor Mr. B.

Now, I was a precocious little shit, but while reading my newspaper article I came across a phrase that truly confused me: “sodomised with a pine cone.” There was no context in the article which could have told me what this meant. It was 2002 and I had access to the internet, so I knew about the concept itself (and indeed multiple other concepts), but from sheer chance I had just never happened across the word “sodomy” before. This 15-year-old’s bum-related vocabulary went no further than butt-sex, fudge-packing, ass-fucking, or anal if you’re feeling technical. 

I read the whole article, then read it again, trying to figure out what in the world had been allegedly done with this pine cone. There was nothing whatsoever to indicate what was involved in being sodomised, especially not with a pine cone. There was only the implication that it was painful, considering a hospital visit was involved. 

So, finally, I raised my hand. And poor Mr. B, he called on me.

“Mr. B, what does ‘sodomized’ mean?” I asked.

All my classmates looked up from their newspaper clippings and notebooks, also curious, because apparently none of them had ever heard this word before, either. Mr. B, a man in his thirties with many years of teaching behind him, stood there silently staring back at me, a 15-year-old girl, as twenty other pairs of eyes watched him expectantly. I can only imagine the panic in his brain at that moment.

Finally, he sighed. “Go look it up in the dictionary, Karen.”

I stood and went over to the cabinet in the corner where Mr. B kept a huge copy of the Merriam-Webster. My classmates, meanwhile, started looking in their newspapers for the article that had prompted my question, all of them trying to figure out what it meant to be sodomised with a pine cone.

When I found the word, everything clicked. “Oh, EW,” I burst out. I went straight back to my desk and sat down.

“So? What does it mean?” My classmates asked me.

I looked at Mr. B. He had his head in his hands.

“Go look it up yourselves,” I told them.

A couple kids got up and did just that. When they returned, their faces were grim with the new knowledge of what could be done with a pine cone. 

“Well?” The other students asked.

“It’s butt sex,” one of them said solemnly, looking and sounding exactly like someone announcing an incoming nuclear missile.

We all looked at each other, pondering the technicalities of putting a pine cone up your ass.

Then the bell rang, and the incident was never spoken of again.

Headcanon that when James was young, his dad used to hold the back of his neck when he cried and tell him, in a strong and steady voice, that he was okay and it was all going to be okay. 

In First Year, James wakes up in the middle of the night to crying. Sirius is in the next bed over, kicking out and whimpering, in the clutches of a nightmare and James can just make out the agony on his new friend’s face in the dark. He gets out of bed and gently wakes him up, shushing him and nudging his shoulder. Sirius awakes with a jolt. He stares at James with wide, black eyes, panting heavily, and he only lasts a moment when reality washes over him, before he starts sobbing. James holds the back of his neck and puts their foreheads together and tells him he’s okay, it’s just a dream. You’re alright. You’re okay. It’s going to be okay-

In Second Year, James confronts Remus about where he goes off to every month. He knows his friend is lying to him. He can tell because Remus isn’t a very good liar, though he thinks he is, and it’s obvious he’s done it too many times, and James is starting to worry because every month, his friend wakes up in the Hospital Wing with bruises and scratches. He’s done his research and he thinks he knows and when he sees the colour and light drain from Remus’ face, he knows he’s right. The other boys can’t believe it, but they swallow their disbelief to tell him that goodness grief, you fold your socks, Remus, really. Forgive me for not trembling at the sight of you! and that of course, we don’t want you kicked out of Hogwarts!! Where on earth did you get that idea from? And Remus, that poor little boy, pale and fading, with more scars than he can count and cover up, collapses and sobs and James sinks to the floor and holds him and he grips the back of Remus’ neck, and tells him he isn’t a monster and it’s okay. It’s going to be okay. You don’t need to hide anymore. We’re your friends and we’re staying.

It’s the summer of their Fifth Year and a heatwave brought a storm with it and Sirius turns up on his doorstep, drenched and broken, bleeding and bruised, and the rain drips from his hair. He’s hauling a trunk behind him and he’s sobbing and when the door opens, he can only utter I didn’t know where else to go before James understands and drags him into a hug. He holds him together so he doesn’t fall apart and Sirius sobs and grips at his friend’s pjs and James grips the back of his head securely and says in his ear in a firm and low voice You’re safe here. You’re staying here. I don’t give a damn about your mother. This is your home now.

In Seventh Year, McGonagall called him to her Office one afternoon to tell him that his parents had died of dragonpox and he stands and stares at her and tells her she’s being absurd because his dad wrote to him just yesterday to tell him about the garden gnomes that keep uprooting his roses and his mum sent him a batch of brownies she made at the weekend. Sirius starts crying first and James tells him it’s okay because their parents are fine, but Sirius only tries to reach for him (James-) and when James recoils and demands to know why he is crying, Sirius grabs him and wrestles with him as he struggles because James is sobbing now and he collapses in his brother’s arms and Sirius has one arm around his waist and one hand holding his head to keep him grounded because it’s not okay but it will be. We have each other. We have each other.

They’ve finished school and Lily Evans is Lily Potter and James cried more than he ever thought he would (though he knew he’d cry a lot). Sirius, his Best Man, made a speech with no less than 33 deer-related puns, and Remus looked healthy and happy for once and Mary kissed Peter for the first time and Lily’s sister didn’t come but her parents were there and her dad walked her down the aisle and she cried when she saw James waiting for her. James twirled Lily around the dancefloor of their marquee and The Beatles crooned on an old Muggle record player and fairy lights hung from the rafters. He pulled her close and she was laughing and he held the back of her neck when he kissed her because this was good. This was more than good. This was extraordinary.  

It’s the War and Lily, his beautiful wife Lily, is sobbing in their bathroom and he only came to ask her if she wanted a tea making but she’s crying and he sinks to the floor beside her and holds her and when he sees what she’s holding, he can’t quite believe it. This is a war but somehow, in amongst all this death and destruction, they’re going to have a baby and his dad isn’t around anymore to hold the back of his neck and tell him he’s going to be okay but how can they bring a baby into a world like this? We can’t, Lily, we can’t- but Lily holds the back of his head and kisses his lips and says We can James Potter. My love, we can love this baby enough that no war will ever touch him. This gives us something to fight for. And my God, they were going to fight for it.

It’s the War and they’re sitting in Dumbledore’s office and the war is raging, harder and bloodier than ever, and their baby, their little baby boy, is in a prophecy. Their Harry is in a prophecy and he can’t even roll onto his tummy yet. They’ve lost people. His parents died of dragonpox in his Seventh Year at school, and Benjy Fenwick was found in pieces only last week. Fabian and Gideon Prewett were the first people he loved to die in the war and he was so angry he broke their bedside lamp. But this- this blow feels like he’s died with them because how are they meant to survive what’s set in stone? Lily is too shocked to respond but she’s crying silent tears and he knows there is an avalanche brewing inside of her golden heart and he holds her head and hides in her hair because he’s crying and the world looks garish to him and he whispers we’ll protect him. Harry will grow up and we’ll watch him do it. Everything will be okay-

It’s the War and people are dying, and Marlene’s entire family was slaughtered on Thursday and Lily spent all night locked in her room, sobbing and screaming, and Harry cries, and Sirius doesn’t visit anymore and Dumbledore sent Remus undercover. Mary didn’t come back from the last battle and Peter sits in James’ kitchen, hot chocolate going cold in his hands, and James sees that he’s dead inside and that he’s terrified and he crouches in front of him and squeezes the back of his neck and tells him you’re okay. You are alive. It’s nearly over and we are going to survive this thing. D’you hear me, Pete? We’re going to survive it. I promise you-

5

i’ve seen this episode several times but it only just fully sank in how fucking funny this bit is

  • the way dee hides behind the newspaper with one big eye still looking at the lawyer—peak physical comedy. just *kisses fingers*
  • the fact that she and charlie think these are going to be effective hiding places
  • the reveal that they’re not in their own car, they’re in the car of the guy they’re spying on (and yes, they do know it’s his car)
  • the subsequent realization that charlie and dee were still shocked and confused when the lawyer started heading towards the car despite it being, well, his car
  • the way charlie just fuckin’ pops up in that last gif like a wind-up toy—more physical comedy from the peak.

Her brother isn’t ugly.

Lup has heard his jokes. Heard them, told him exactly what she thought of the barbed humor he pointed at himself, and refused to let him continue. It hasn’t stopped him yet, but she’s trying. Lup heard the terms of the sacrifice, too. She was listening when the liches explained - she didn’t stop listening after they dropped a huge, metal box on her brother because was going to know what the fuck was happening to him. She knows what they took, and it isn’t what Taako calls it.

Taako’s not ugly. Taako’s not average. No one would ever accuse Taako of being anything but extraordinary, no matter what his face looks like. No one would think anything is missing. That’s not what this is.

Lup knows the difference the moment she sees his face, when he finally lets the spell down in front of her. She would - she knows his face maybe better than he does. It’s the freckles she catches first; it’s the wrong number, in the wrong places. The feeling is a little like looking up and seeing that the stars are all wrong - she remembers doing that with Taako, sitting on the roof of the Starblaster. They spent hours looking for just one familiar constellation. For years, it was the closest they came to talking about what they’d lost.

Next are the eyes; the shape is less severe, and the color isn’t quite right. The changed details find her faster after that. There’s something different about his nose, his hair has more hints of red than gold, his expressions are… off. It’s her brother’s face but it isn’t, he looks familiar but not entirely. Her brother is right there in front of her and she misses him.

Lup smiles. She tells him that he’ll never look as good as her, but he’s a pretty close second. Taako looks relieved. He tries to hide it, and even on a face that is as unfamiliar as it is familiar she can see right through him. The changes aren’t that much. He still looks so much like her.

But he’s not like her.

Taako and Lup are elves. They have long ears, sharp eyes, and wicked smiles. For one hundred years, they are two of a kind; no matter where they go, no one looks quite like them. The “elves” of other worlds are not as sharp, not as strange. Like always, they take pride in the way people stare. They’ve never minded being a matching set.

Now it’s only Lup. For the first time in one hundred years, Taako looks like he belongs. He might have been born on Faerun; he might have lived his whole life here, without her, like he did in another set of memories.

And when even Taako starts to forget what he looked like, when his freckles and eyes and hair and face are always wrong with or without magic, Lup wonders if the sacrifice was only meant for her brother.

Her (one-shot)

Synopsis: The Reader and Bucky share a special bond of trust. But one night when during a nightmare Bucky hurts the Reader things might not stay the same.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Genre: fluff/ teensy bit of angst

Warnings: swearing, make out sesh, grammar mistakes

Word count: 2807

Originally posted by snickersforangelica

   She padded through the hallway, the sound of sock-clad feet being the only invasion in the silence of the night. Y/N was the newest member of the Avengers. She was young, with a bright mind and the fact that she could manipulate electricity didn’t hurt, but what the people who had welcomed her into their little dysfunctional family loved most about the girl, was her compassion.
   Y/N never turned her back on anyone, no matter the situation. To which Bucky still couldn’t wrap his head around. The pair had developed a special bond. It was nothing like what he and Steve had, it was nowhere near being best friends. This- this was more. It was complete trust in one another, complete and unadulterated faith.
   That is why when her eyes fell upon Bucky’s door, slightly cracked open and she heard soft whimpers coming from the room, without hesitation Y/N entered it. His nightmares were getting better, but that didn’t mean when they appeared, they didn’t haunt him with the same intensity.
   Cautiously, the girl walked around his bed. Bucky’s hands were clutching the sheets so tightly they were ripped on both sides. His half-naked body was covered by a thin layer of sweat and his face was scrunched up in a painful grimace.
   “Please,” he choked out. “Don’t. Not her.”
   Y/N gently touched his unshaven cheek. “Bucky, wake up. It’s a nightmare. It’s not real.”

Keep reading

You Idiot - Sweet Pea x Reader

Summary: Fangs spends a night gossiping with y/n, Toni, and Cheryl at the Wyrm only to accidentally tell a secret about y/n without knowing it.

A/n: The italicized part is a flashback.

Word Count: 1706

Originally posted by all-about-that-fandoms

Y/n’s POV

I was sitting at a table at the Wyrm with Toni, Cheryl, and Fangs just hanging out and having a drink when Sweet Pea sauntered in with a tall, skinny blonde on his arm. He gave a wave in our general direction before settling in at his usual spot at the pool table. Toni and Cheryl rolled their eyes as she leaned up against him and whispered in his ear, giggling. 

“I really wish he would settle down,” Cheryl said. “He’s one hook up away from brining home a bulldog’s girl and ruining the sanctuary I’ve made here.”

“Calm down, babe,” Toni replied, “The last thing Pea would do is bring back a northsider.”

“He might be closer to settling down than you think, ladies,” Fangs chimed in, taking a sip of his beer.

“Sweets?” I asked, “No fucking way. Absolutely not.”

Fangs nodded, gulping down the rest of his drink and slamming it back down on the table as he went to get up. 

“Yes way,” he said, running his hand across my shoulders as he walked toward the bar, “Boy’s got it bad for someone. I’m just keeping it low key until he decides to make a move.”

Toni, Cheryl, and I exchanged glances before downing the rest of our own drinks and following Fangs to the bar.

“Spill,” Toni said.

“Yeah, you can’t just leave us ona  cliff hanger like that. Who’s the girl?” Cheryl added. 

Fangs held his hands up and shook his head before picking up his drink and heading back to the table. I reached my hand out and grabbed the collar of his leather jacket to pull him back. He spun around, only inches from my face. 

“Details,” I said. “Now.” 

Once I let go of Fangs, he stepped back toward the bar. He looked each of us in the eye and ducked his head down, so it looked like we were all in a huddle. He looked over his shoulder at Pea and the girl just to be sure they weren’t paying attention before he started talking.

“Okay, so I don’t know her name. He wouldn’t tell me,” he said looking around at each of us again. “All I know is that he had was hooking up with this girl a while back, pretty consistently for a couple of months, and he came over to my place in a fit. I’m talking running his hands through his hair and huffing and puffing. He was totally stressed out by this whole thing because it was supposed to be casual, right?”

Toni, Cheryl, and I were on the edge of our seats at this. Sweet Pea was never the serious type, never the one to catch any feelings. This was big news. Fangs took another sip of his beer and huddled back in. Before he started talking I saw Sweet Pea look over at us kind of confused. I kept my eyes on him as I listened to Fangs.

“So yeah, he was supposed to be casual with this chick,  but he ended up catching feelings. Heard,” Fangs said as Sweet Pea put his pool cue down and started making his way over to us. “He had no idea what to do. He was pacing around my living room ranting and-”

“Fangs, shh. He’s coming over here,” I interrupted. 

We all stood up straight and stiff while we all started sucking down our drinks, not wanting to make eye contact with Pea. He slipped into the little circle we had formed rigth between me and Fangs and looked around at us. 

“So,” he said, drawing it out, “what were you guys talking about over here?”

Cheryl choked on her drink and began stuttering before Toni put her hand on Cheryl’s thigh and took over.

“Fangs was just telling us some hot northsider gossip her heard from Kevin Keller,” she said.

“Oh yeah,” Fangs said, “Some stuff about some Vixen’s heartbreak of the week. Right, Cheryl?”

“Mmhm. Yep,” Cheryl said meeting Fangs’ “hold it together” gaze.

“Oh,” Pea said nodding. 

You all exchanged glances, and as he stepped away to get a drink, Cheryl let out a deep sigh. 

“That was close,” Fangs whispered as you all nodded and silently agreed not to talk about the subject any longer. 

After I got home that night, I couldn’t stop thinking about what Fangs had said. Something about it just didn’t seem right, mainly how he said that Sweet Pea had been hooking up with the same girl for a couple of months. That was so unlike him. His usual hookups were one night stands, a week or two if she was lucky. Then it hit me: Sweet Pea, and I had been hooking up like six months ago. I went back through the timeline in my head, positive there was no way our fling could’ve lasted that long. Could it have?

I shot out of bed and grabbed my phone, dialing Fangs. I waited as it rang a few times tapping my foot aggressively.

“Hey! What’s up?” Fangs answered.

I could tell he wasn’t at the Wyrm anymore because there wasn’t any music, but I could hear what sounded like pots and pans clanking around in the background. 

“Fangs, where are you?” I asked, praying that I didn’t already know the answer.

“I’m at Sweet Pea’s. Why? What’s up? You wanna come over?”

“No,” I said before letting out a groan, “I wanted to ask you something about what we were talking about earlier. I, um, I think I remember him saying something to me about this same girl, but I wasn’t sure how long ago this little incident was.”

“Oh, I think it was about six months ago,” he said, his voice quiter than before. “It might’ve been more recent than that, though. I think it took him a while to call it off since he was battling with actual feelings and all. You know how bad he is with those.”

“Yeah,” you laughed, “Tell me about it. Well, thanks. Bye.”

You hung up the phone as fast as you could then let out a big sigh. You sat there straing at the ground while you thought. You counted back on your fingers just to double check. One, two, three, four, five, six. It had been about six months since the last time you hooked up with Sweet Pea. I remembered:

“Pea, baby, come back to bed,” you whispered, patting the spot next to you as Pea roamed around the room in his boxers, drying his wet hair.

“Y/n, as much as I would love to, we have to go to school,” he said as he tossed his towel on my desk chair across the room.

“But school isn’t anywhere as fun as I am, Pea,” as said with a pout.

“Believe me. I know,” he groaned, sitting on the edge of the bed, “but we can have all the fun you want after school.”

“Uuuuuugh,” I said, rolling over onto my back as he got back up and gave me a wink. “Fine.”

“Good,” Sweet Pea said as he pulled on his dark skinny jeans.

I smiled for a second thinking about that morning. Little did I know, I wasn’t going to be getting anything I wanted that night. Sweet Pea came over later than usual that night. I had assumed that he was at the Wrym or out on Serpent’s business and forgot to tell me, But I’m thinking now that he had been at Fangs’ house. It was hard to remember exactly how it happened or exactly what he said, but I got the idea. He was calling our little arrangement off. I hadn’t really thought anythign of it until now.

Fangs’ POV

“Well, thanks. Bye,” y/n said before hanging up the phone so fast I couldn’t get another word in.

“Who was that?” Sweet Pea asked, coming into the living room with a couple bowls of mac and cheese.

“Y/n,” I said.

He looked at me with raised eyebrows.

“Yeah?” he asked, you guys were looking pretty cozy over there at the Wyrm tonight. I mean, you were looking pretty cozy with Toni and Cheryl too, but we all know they’ve got major heart eyes fro each other.”

Suddenly, I felt a pit form in the bottom of my stomach. It wasn’t from the alcohol, and I knew it wasn’t because I was full after two bites of food. It was because I totally broke a promise to my best friend.

“Look, Pea,” I said, turning to see him shovel a huge bite of macaroni in his face, “promise you won’t get mad at me?”

“About what?” he asked with his mouth full.

“I might’ve told the girls about your little FWB fiasco a few months ago,” I said, squinting my eyes at him as his brows furrowed together. “Cheryl had said something about you needing to settle down before you wound up bringing a northsider back and ruining her “sanctuary,” and I said it might be more possible than they thought. Since you’re still so hung up on that girl you were hooking up with and all.”

“And you said all this in front of y/n?” he asked, slowly setting down his fork and bowl on the coffee table.

“Yeah. That’s why she called actually.”

“What do you mean that’s why she called?” Sweet Pea asked, his hands clenching around his knees as he sat rigid on the end of the couch.

“Oh, um, she just asked me about how long ago it was because she thought you had said something to her about this girl, too.”

Sweet Pea sulked forward, his head falling into his palms as he sighed. I set my bowl down on the coffee table too and looked over at him. He drug his palms from his forehead down to his chin, clenching his jaw.

“Pea?” I asked, concerned.

“You idiot,” Pea huffed, throwing his arms up and slamming them down on the couch. “I was hooking up with y/n. You just told the girl I have feelings for that I have feelings for her.”

“You’re welcome?” I said, shrugging at Sweet Pea before picking up my bowl and continuing to eat.

[INFINITY WAR SPOILERS
INFINITY WAR SPOILERS]

THIS ART INSPIRED ME. ALL CREDITS TO OWNER!

Tony couldn’t comprehend the moment. He didn’t know what was happening. He was confused, devastated and he was.. scared.

“Mr Stark.” 

Tony was lost, he turned to Peter and when their eyes met, Tony’s heart stung. Peter was panicking, looking at himself, looking around and then back to looking at Tony. The next words that came out of the boys mouth made Tony’s heart sink into a void.

“I— I don’t feel so good.”

Tony doesn’t hesitate to say — “You’re alright.”

He doesn’t know who he’s trying to convince more, the kid or himself.

You’re alright. You’re alright. You’re alright.

“I don’t understand. — Mr Stark, I don’t understand what’s happen—“ As the words fall from Peter’s tongue, he reaches for Tony and falls onto him, grasping onto him, hoping that Tony could keep him there, could let him stay.

“I don’t want to go. Please. Mr. Stark. I — I don’t want to go. Please!” 

Tony looks at him now, he doesn’t know what to do, he is utterly helpless. He holds the boy, he holds him with everything he has. Maybe if he held him tight enough he wouldn’t disappear, wouldn’t slip through Tony’s fingertips. 

Peter continuously mumbles the words ‘Please’, ‘I don’t want to go’ and every time Tony hears those words come out of the innocent, young teen it adds more guilt inside of him.

Peter falls and the impact makes Tony lose his grip and now they’re both on the floor, Tony grasping Peters arms, rubbing small circles in place and that’s when Peter looks up at him, right into his eyes, tears flowing onto his cheeks and he whispers— “I’m sorry.” 

Tony doesn’t have time to reply or add any reassurance because Peter slowly starts to fade away and in a matter of seconds he was gone. Nothing but tiny speckles of ash that was sprawled across Tony’s hands and clothes.

Tony feels like he is paralysed. He moved into a sitting position but he felt numb. He unintentionally started rocking back and forth and he didn’t hold back the tears that threatened his cheeks. Tony was powerless.

He shut his eyes. It didn’t do him any good because the only thing that came were memories of Peter and his journey of becoming an Avenger.

-*-

Leaning over to grab the door for Peter seemed like a good idea at the time but that action leading to Parker thinking it was a hug didn’t really go to plan.

“No this isn’t a hug. I’m just getting the door for you.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah we aren’t there yet.”

The first actual hug Peter received from Tony was a goodbye hug and that’s another guilt that Tony adds within himself.

-*-

On Tony’s call, Peter webbed from the sky and snatched Cap’s shield from him and landed (just like a superhero — may he add) swiftly and perfectly.

“Great job kid!” Tony says, looking at the kid. In this moment he actually felt a sense of warmth and proudness. He smiled.

“Thanks!”

-*-

Tony looks at Peter sincerely and he listens, and not just hears it in one ear and its out the other in a second, he really listens, because in this moment for some reason, Peter makes Tony soft.

“When you can do things that I can.. but you don’t.” Peter says, looking from Tony to the floor. “And then the bad things happen.”

Peter says more firmly now, he looks to Tony. Staring right at him, dead on. 

“They happen because of you.”

-*-

One memory hurt him the most. 

-*-

“Wow Mr. Stark! Your garage is awesome. I — wow!” Peter says as Tony shows him around his workspace. Peter’s face is lit up with glee. He’s smiling, all teeth and Tony can’t help but reciprocate.

“Figured you like engineering, technology. So I thought you could play around in here — with the exception of touching my multi-million dollar projects.” Tony says, watching the kid practically bounce around the room to all the different machinery.

“Are you serious? Wow.” 

“Enjoy kid.” 

“Thank you Mr. Stark!” Peter says as he non-thinkingly wraps his arms around the man. 

Tony is shocked for a moment before Peter pulls away. 

“I — I’m sorry!” Peter says frantically.

“It’s okay kid, you’re happy. I get it.” Tony says sending him a small smile. “Now let me show you how this works.”

The two didn’t stop fiddling with wires, cables and metals until they fell asleep on each of the chairs placed in the room.

-*-

Tony opened his eyes. His face was wet with tears and the air made his cheeks numb but it didn’t matter because he won’t be moving for a while.

5 First Kisses with Bucky Barnes

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Summary: 5 first kisses with Bucky
Warnings: light smut

A/N: It’s been a while since I’ve posted a one shot. I know there’s a million different 5 types of something floating around and this is my take on it hahah. Come let me know what you think!
Word count : 2,195

The first first kiss

Your mother always told you that your first kiss would be magical. It’d feel like the world had stopped spinning around you. Your hearts would beat as one, breaths mingling as you felt electricity prickle through your veins but the older you got, the less you believed her. Until, you met Bucky Barnes.

It had started in a quaint bookshop when you had tripped and sent your small stacks of books flying. An array of colourful paperbacks flew on to the wooden floorboard as you landed with a muted ooft. Most people had seen what happened but when you seemed relatively unscathed they turned back to perusing the stacked shelves. So when you saw someone crouch next to you, you were surprised.

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Crush

Short Connor x reader request (Fluff) [ 869 words ]

Originally posted by silverchaosus

“C’mon Connor! I’m one of your best friends! You have to tell me which one it is!”

“(Y/n), I’ve already told you eight times that I’m not going to.”

“I promise I won’t tell Hank!”

“Hank already knows.”

You got up from your sitting position on Connor’s desk.

“You told Hank but not me!?” 

Connor shifted his eyes to the floor and turned in his chair a bit.

“The only reason I told him was because I needed advice and he wouldn’t answer my questions unless I did so.”

“Well? What did he say? Did he tell you to ask her out so you could go on a cute little android date?”

His cheeks flushed a light shade of blue.

“Hank told me that it would be best to start with flirting to see if she even has any interest in me.”

You put your hands on his shoulders and he looked up at you.

“Well there you go! I can help you flirt! I mean, I guess human and android women might have some different courtship preferences, but I can still tell you everything I know!” You exclaimed with a smile.

Connor’s eyes darted to the floor again.

“I suppose your tips could be quite beneficial. However, I’m still not telling you who it is.”

“Ugh, fine. So what do you want to know?” You hopped back onto his desk.

“My first question has to do with appearances. What sort of general things do women like to see? I’d like to know what kind of chances I have with her.”

You thought for a moment.

“Well I certainly can’t speak for everyone, but most women like men to be taller than them. Usually somewhat fit, nice hands, hygienic, a decent haircut. That sort of thing.”

“I see.” Connor took his coin out of his pocket and started playing with it. You watched the graceful movements of his hands for a few seconds before he continued on with the conversation. 

“What about clothes? Is there a specific style women tend to like?”

“There’s a few different styles that work. Casual’s fine as long as you do it right. However, I personally can’t resist a man in a suit or uniform.”

“Interesting.” He replied and stood up from his chair. He took a moment to fix his tie before leaning against the desk next to you.

“And what about asking her out on a date? What do you think is the best approach?” He asked. You noticed him messing with the cuffs on his dress-shirt sleeves.

“I like it the most when guys just ask. You should definitely listen to Hank and flirt with her a bit first to make sure she’s interested. But after that, just be yourself and go for it.” 

“Hmm,” was all he said before standing again. Your brows furrowed and a blush spread across your cheeks when he suddenly trapped you against the desk.

“Connor?? What are you doing?” 

“There’s something behind your ear,” he said, reaching for the right side of your head.

“What?” You glanced at his hand. Once it was by your ear, he slid his coin out of his sleeve and brought it back in front of your face.

“Just kidding. Has anyone performed this trick on you before? I thought you might find it amusing.”

You were more nervous about the fact that his body was so close to your own.

“Haha, yeah. Uh- good one Connor.” You said, not really thinking. You tried your best to avoid his gaze. The lack of distance between the two of you made your height difference very obvious. He must’ve been at least four inches taller. He tilted your chin up and his voice came out in just above a whisper.

“So to recap…” his lips got closer to your ear and your eyes widened. “Once I’ve flirted and am fairly certain this girl has interest in me, I should just go ahead and ask her on a date?”  

Oh.

Your heart began to beat rapidly. You’ve liked Connor as more than a friend for ages, but you never thought he’d be interested in a human- especially you.

“Um… I- uh,” 

“Great! I’ll pick you up at your apartment tonight around seven p.m. I can accompany you to that restaurant you like so much, and after we can take a nice late-night walk in the park. How does that sound?”

You were silent for a moment, but once you finally snapped out of it, you responded.

“I- uh. Yeah. Yes. Yes that would be wonderful.”

“Perfect.” He smiled and stood up properly before Hank entered the DPD and called out to him.

“Connor! Let’s go! There was a homicide downtown and Fowler wants us to check it out!”

“Coming Lieutenant!” He shouted back. He grabbed his badge off the desk and was about to run out, but he stopped short to turn and place a quick peck on your cheek. He gave you a cute little wink and left the building, joining Hank on another one of their many misadventures. You touched your cheek and looked down at the ground, blushing harder than you probably ever had.

“What in the fuck just happened?”

_____________________________________

Part 2

Midnight Marathons

Erik ‘Killmonger’ Stevens x Reader

Summary: Erik puts that ass to sleep :)

Warnings: Straight up nastiness, I apologize I don’t know what came over me. Lil bit of daddy kink.

Words: 3k

Notes: My first post ah, tell me what you guys think. This honestly just straight up porn and I’m doin my blog title proud. My bad for any spelling/grammar mistakes, I tried proofreading but I was s i c k of looking at the fic lol. Feel free to leave me requests though. Thanks for reading! 


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It’s Complicated | T.H

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Summary: Friends with Benefits AU. Tom and Y/N have an agreement, friends with some pretty amazing benefits but Tom never fails to slip the thought of a relationship into the mix which Y/N rejects every time. When things start to heat up at a frat party between the pair, there may be only one solution.

Warning: Cursing, drinking, implied sexual actions, party setting.

Author’s Note: This is my piece for @notimeforthemessenger ‘s writing challenge - congratulations, again, on the milestone and you deserve every one of them followers and more. I hope y’all enjoy this and leave feedback, please & thank you.

masterlist //


“Are you going to that party tonight, at Kappa Omega?” You hummed, twisting to lay on your side to watch Tom, who was struggling to pull the jeans he wore last night up his legs. His brown hair was tousled into a bird’s nest and his cheeks were pinched with a red tint from only waking up minutes ago. Your blanket was draped loosely over your naked body and you pulled it up an inch, your eyes lingering on Tom’s defined torso and you felt the pulsing ache start again in between your legs.

Tom smirked slightly, buckling his belt and made his way over to your bed, his eyes scanning your hidden body quickly. The sudden urge of wanting to climb onto his lap and kiss him welcomed you, but your body refused to move - it couldn’t after last night’s antics. “I heard Jana Keogh is going. She never goes to parties, this is my chance.” Tom chuckled, leaning over your body.

Frowning at him, you hit his shoulder playfully for bringing up the Chinese brown haired girl that you shared three lectures with. “And here I was stupid enough to think you’d end up in my bed again.”

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How To Ride [G.D]

REQUEST: Hey! Can I request a imagine where you and gray are dating and you dont know how to ride him so he teaches you? Thanks babe ilysm ❤

A/N: I don’t take requests, however I wanted to write something short bc I haven’t posted smut or about my mans in a hot minute so I just took this simple one so it wouldn’t have my whole ass signature plot 💀 Hope its aight, peace! x

WORDS: 2.7K

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RIP door

DM (me): From the clubroom’s floor, you see a monster starting to take form. It’s a Golem.

Vyrian: This can’t be good.

Hawk: Wait, are we inside or outside the clubroom?

DM (me): You and Vyrian are outside. Anzillu and Valris are inside. The only thing avoiding you to go inside the clubroom is a closed door.

Hawk: I kick the door.

DM (me): ….Roll strengh to see how hard you kick it.

Hawk: 82.

DM (me): You kick the door so hard it falls to the ground. Valris looks at you with tears in his eyes.

DM, as Valris (me): …It wasn’t even locked….

Lost

Summary: After an accident on your recent mission, you suffer from amnesia.

Themes: memory loss, descriptions of trauma, *slight* abandonment of child if that’s how you choose to see it

A/N: This is my entry for @captain-ariel-barnes 4k Writing Challenge. The idea for this story was one that I’ve been itching to write for a long time now. If it seems a little rushed or too condensed, I apologize. But I always saw this as a one shot kind of thing. Also, if the medical lingo doesn’t add up it’s because I got my information from google. So, sorry in advance. As always, I hope you enjoy. Feedback is always appreciated :)

Word Count: 7.5k

Your eyes were closed and your body felt stiff. The only sound you could make out was a soft electronic beeping.

Slowly opening your eyes, you were met with the harshness of the blinding fluorescent lights above you. You let out a groan of discomfort.

You tried to raise your right hand to shield your eyes, but found that you couldn’t move it. You looked down to your arm and saw that it was gripped by a pair of rough hands and trapped underneath a head of dark hair. You’d recognize that hair anywhere.

Bucky.

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Nicknames {T.H}

The little nicknames that Tom gives you.

Masterlist

Originally posted by spookyparkerr

  • Babe
  • it’s one of his favorites
  • this is one that Tom uses all the time
  • whenever he comes home from a long day
  • or early in the morning
  • especially when he can’t find something
  • it kind of just rolls of his tongue without thinking
  • “Hey babe.”
  • “Babe, do you where I put my phone.”
  • and uses it whenever you’re looking adorable
  • “Babe, come here. I gotta show ya something.”
  • it’s also the one he uses when he’s half asleep
  • his arms wrapped around your waist
  • and his head is buried into your the crook of your neck
  • “Five more minutes babe.”
  • “I’ve gotta something to tell ya, babe.”
  • it’s the one that you know 
  • he’s always going to use no matter what
  • Love
  • this one Tom uses when he knows that your upset
  • or something has got you totally down
  • “You can tell me anything, love.”
  • the tone in voice is different
  • and you know that he knows something is up
  • “Ya know I got your back, love.” 
  • the name that he uses
  • whenever he pulls you closer to him on the couch
  • hands running up and down your back
  • as he tries to calm you down
  • “Please talk to me, love.” 
  • his legs tangled with yours on the couch
  • and he’ll just hold you
  • as he leave sweet kisses all along your cheek
  • “Don’t let them get to you, love.”
  • Hun
  • Tom uses this one 
  • when he knows that you’re annoyed with him
  • either he has said or done something
  • that has totally just made you mad
  • “Hun, talk to me.”
  • he’ll whine and chuckle
  • cause that name makes you roll your eyes at him
  • and cross your arms over your chest
  • “Hun, I swear it was joke.” 
  • and he’ll lean in closer to you
  • until his nose is touching your cheek
  • “You know you can’t ignore me, hun.” 
  • and you’ll huff in his face
  • and Tom will get this little grin
  • “Hun, that isn’t going to work.”
  • before he starts tickling you
  • Pretty Girl
  • this one Tom saves 
  • he only uses it whenever you’re teasing him
  • or you look freaking amazing
  • and he can’t keep his hands off of you
  • “Don’t ya dare, pretty girl.”
  • “Damn. No one comes close to you, pretty girl.”
  • and then there are times where he can’t help
  • when your sitting on his lap
  • or running your hands up and down his chest
  • “Stop teasing me, pretty girl”
  • his lips crashing against yours
  • his fingers tangled in your hair
  • as you mess with the band of his pants
  • “Gonna make ya pay, pretty girl.” 

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Later - Part 1

Noah Centineo x Y/N

Summary: With Noah’s rising fame, he seems to be neglecting the one person that means the most to him, Y/N.

A/N: Hey guys, so obviously I watched To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before (you should check it out if you haven’t, it wasn’t as cliche as I expected it to be) and I’m now in love with Noah Centineo! The second (and final) part of this writing with be out probably next Monday, so let me know if you wanna be tagged!! I have a lot of other contact coming out this week, so follow me to keep an eye out! Check out my masterpost below!! Requests are OPEN and feedback is appreciated! Thanks for reading everyone!

PART 2

MASTERPOST

WRITING PROMPTS

ASK/REQUEST

Originally posted by halle-berry

She hated feeling this way.

She knew it was wrong. She should be proud. He was finally achieving his dreams of becoming a serious actor and household name. And while she was proud, she couldn’t stop those other emotions from creeping in and ruining her mood.

Fear. Jealousy. Sadness.

The fear came from the idea that he would grow too big and forget about her. She lived all the way across the country and while they had been together for almost three years now, she knew how quickly relationships could end because of distance. It had been five months since they had seen each other in person and it was starting to take a toll on her.

She knew she had no right to be jealous, they were actors. But hearing the story about how Lara Jean’s background wasn’t staged and how him and Lana have really been bonding over things like hot yoga had really hurt her. She know he wasn’t doing it on purpose and that he would never cheat, but being so far away was clouding her thoughts.

The sadness showed up when she would look at her phone and see that he had barely been replying to her for a while now. It had started out as just late replies and a few missed FaceTime calls, but now she could barely remember the last time they had a full conversation, especially one that hadn’t revolved around his rising fame. He used to be the one that she would call anytime anything significant happened, but when she would go to dial his number, all she could see was the amount of missed calls where she had done the same thing and ended up disappointed yet again.

It really wasn’t healthy to keep all this in, but she wasn’t sure it was something she could talk to him about. Usually when (more like if now a days) he picked up her calls, he was always so happy and excited and she hated to ruin that because of her dumb feelings that didn’t even make sense. But when she saw the Instagram post of him and Lana, she knew it was time.

Surprisingly, it only took three rings for him to pick up. She had actually flinched in shock when he responded, having already planned on just leaving a voicemail. She was shaken from this when she heard him say again, “Hello?”

“Hey, it’s me.” A tear dropped from her eye when Noah excitedly greeted her before starting to ramble about when was going on in his life. “Noah,” she cut him off, “We need to talk.” He seemed to be confused as he responded, “Isn’t that what we’re doing, talking? I’ve missed you so much babe, I have so much to tell you.”

Before he could go off once more, she interrupted, “Noah, please.” At his silence, she continued, “We need to talk. Like a serious talk.” Noah sounded concerned as he asked, “Is everything okay? Is it your family, are they alright? You know I’ll be on the next flight over.” He was beginning to panic, so she quickly stopped him by saying, “Noah, calm down. My family is fine. Everyone else is fine.” This only caused him to panic more as he asked, “So you’re not fine? What’s going on, what can I do?”

Y/N sighed as she told him, “You can just listen.” At his silence she continued, “This isn’t working anymore, Noah. We’re different people now and we’re going separate ways. Can’t you feel the distance? When was the last time we had a full conversation without someone interrupting or work getting in the way. I’m just tired, Noah. I’m so tired of being the only one putting in effort. I can’t be put on the backburner anymore, I just can’t. I’m sorry Noah, it’s over.” Before he could try and fix things, she had already hung up.

Heartbroken, he went to call her when realization smacked him in the face. Right there, clear as day on his phone was all the effort she had been talking about. All the missed calls and voicemails and unanswered texts from her that he kept pushing off, saying to himself that he would reply later. It seems like all those laters had really added up. He turned around and threw his phone against the couch in anger. He stood there with his fist clenched before sighing and going over to his phone and dialing her number.

Just as he went to call, Lana walked in, “Hey Noah, we’ve gotta go. We’ve gotta be on stage in two minutes.” He sighed once more before closing his phone and then opening it to see a picture of him and Y/n on his background. It broke his heart, but he knew what he had to do. Maybe one more ‘later’ wouldn’t hurt. “Yeah, let’s go.”

PART 2

Emotional Intelligence

Summary: Based on this comic by @allfavoritesaside. Virgil meets a side fusion for the first time–a combination of Patton and Logan with a pink necktie and a love for cartoons.

Pairings: Platonic LAMP/CALM, platonic Logicality

Word Count: 1,763

Warnings: Descriptive panic attack, negative self-talk, mention of a car accident, death mention as a hypothetical, insecurity.

Notes: Enjoy! <3 ~Martin

                        ——————————————————————-

I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’M NOT TRYING TO, I’m sorry! Stop it! Stop it, I’m hurting them, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to!

Virgil had been trying so hard not to panic over the past few weeks, hiding himself away so he didn’t hurt them. He had promised to be better, to stop hurting Thomas, to not scare him as much. But he was waiting to hear back from an audition, and one of his friends had gotten into a minor car accident (nobody was hurt, but they could have been, and it could happen again, and oh god what if they had died), and he had said something dumb in a tweet and everyone was going to hate him now

And the panic was bubbling over, and it was affecting Thomas, who had needed to put his laptop aside to try and breathe. The other sides had to have noticed! They were going to take back their acceptance of Virgil because he was causing problems again after he had promised he would change, they were going to hate him and yell at him and tell him they had made a mistake in letting him join the family in the first place.

Virgil pulled the strings on his hoodie tight and burst out of his room. He was going to find the others and apologize, beg for their forgiveness even as he continued to hyperventilate and cause Thomas to be even more anxious. He stumbled down the stairs and into the living room.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he babbled to Patton and Logan. Roman wasn’t there. He was probably in the imagination. That meant one less person who was going to yell at him. “I didn’t mean to, I’m not trying to do it–oh god, I can’t breathe–I’m sorry!”

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60r3d0m  asked:

205 :)

#205 - ‘You are strangely comfortable’ 

The first time Dean falls asleep on him, Cas tells himself it’s an accident.

They’re sat side by side on the couch in the bunker, Sam clattering away on his laptop white noise in the background.

“I don’t think that’s medically accurate, Dean,” Cas says, as he always does, when Dr. Sexy is done diagnosing his latest patient with a case of a some-disease-no-one’s-ever-heard-of.

“Whatever, Cas,” comes Dean’s standard reply. “I’m not watching it for the patients.” And Cas is left to ponder on that, as usual, wondering what it is that Dean’s trying to say.

They’ve danced to this tune before, Dean making offhand comments with a look in his eyes that Cas is still struggling to understand. But the dance is cut short tonight, Dean’s eyes drooping in Cas’ peripheral where usually they’re shining with mischief. Cas shifts, moving closer to Dean to nudge him and suggest he go to bed, when Dean’s head unexpectedly falls to his shoulder. Cas freezes, every muscle tensing, until Dean exhales, the sound deep and comforting.

Cas glances up to see Sam smiling smugly at him over his laptop, and he glares, indignant. Sam has the grace to swallow his smile down to a raised eyebrow of bemusement, and satisfied, Cas relaxes. He settles back, a soft sound getting caught in his throat when Dean follows him down, nestling further into the space between Cas’ shoulder and jaw.

He’s too hot, his trenchcoat is bunched uncomfortably around him, and it turns out that now that Cas is human, Dean is way heavier than he looks, but Cas still thinks that he wouldn’t trade this moment for anything.


The second time, Cas is only fairly certain that it’s an accident.

Dean’s hurt pretty badly on the hunt, so even after Sam’s patched him back up, Cas maintains that he’ll stay and watch over him. Sam excuses himself from the room with an over-dramatic hair flip, muttering under his breath about “getting their shit together.”

And then Cas is left, kneeling worriedly by the side of Dean’s bed, watching his chest rise and fall and cursing himself for not being able to heal him.

“Hey Cas,” Dean groans, and Cas starts, unaware that Dean was even conscious. “What’d I tell you ‘bout watching me sleep?” Dean peeks an eye open. “You look pretty beat yourself.”

“I’m fine, Dean.”

Dean looks unconvinced, the patented Winchester eyebrow of ‘sure, bro, whatever you say’ rising at him. Cas huffs. “I can’t sleep. Every time I shut my eyes, all I can think about is…”

Dean blindly reaches a hand out towards him, and Cas is startled when his fingers clench in his sleeves and start tugging.

“Get up here, then.”

“What?”

“Well you can’t watch me all night and I sure as hell can’t stay awake much longer, so take your stupid trench-coat off, and get your ass over here.”

It’s only once Cas is lying stiffly next to Dean above the covers, his mind racing, that he manages to blurt out. “You think my trench-coat is stupid?” And just because he can’t see Dean rolling his eyes, doesn’t mean that he doesn’t know he’s just done it.

“Go to sleep, Cas,” Dean says. He rolls over until his head is resting on Cas’ chest. “There, now you’ll be able to feel it if I stop breathing, so you can stop watching me.”

Cas is too stunned to protest, and eventually he falls asleep to the rhythm of Dean’s breath tickling across his chest.


By the tenth time, Cas is sure that Dean falling asleep on him is most definitely not an accident.

It’s only after Dean willingly sits in the backseat with him and lets Sam drive the Impala, drifting off with his head conveniently lodged under Cas’ chin and Sam’s gloating smile glinting at him in the rear-view mirror, that Cas starts to question it.

They’re back in Dean’s bedroom now, ostensibly watching a film that Dean had insisted Cas had to see.

“Dean?” Cas looks down at the top of Dean’s head that’s currently resting on his chest. “I thought you wanted to watch this movie.”

“Hmm?” Dean makes no effort to sit up. If anything, he simply presses himself nearer to Cas, adjusting to get comfy. “No, wanted you to watch it. I don’t need to be awake for that.”

And Cas drops his head back with a huff, deciding that if Dean wants to shamelessly use him as a pillow, who is he to argue. Aimlessly, he buries a hand in Dean’s hair, rubbing gently at the back of Dean’s head. Dean lets out a small moan, and Cas smiles down at him, his expression fonder than he’d normally allow, safe in the knowledge that Dean can’t see it.

“I didn’t know humans purred,” Cas says after a while, warmth spreading through him when Dean’s chuckle rumbles across his chest.

“Cas, shh. I’m trying to watch the movie.”

“Really? I thought you were sleeping?”

Dean does raise his head at that, glaring at Cas in a way that reminds him of an affronted kitten. His hair’s all sticking up from where Cas’ hand has been in it, and all Cas can think is how he wants nothing more than to ruffle Dean up in other ways.

“It’s kind of hard to sleep when my pillow keeps making smartass comments,” Dean grouches, dropping his forehead down to Cas’ sternum.

“Ah, is that all I am to you now, a pillow?”

“It’s not my fault that you’re strangely comfortable,” Dean mutters into Cas’ chest, so quietly that Cas barely hears him. From the warmth now radiating off the back of Dean’s neck, Cas summises that that had probably been Dean’s intention.

Dean sighs heavily, before pushing himself up and off of Cas.

“Dean?” Cas questions, but Dean’s back is turned to him now, and Cas can practically hear the walls in his head slamming themselves back down. Cas shuffles up behind him, looping his arms around Dean’s waist and dropping his forehead to Dean’s shoulder. “You know,” he murmurs. “You’re pretty comfy too.”

Dean snorts, rubbing a hand down his face. “Man, we suck at this.”

And Cas has to smile at that, ruefully thinking back on all the times that they’ve been here, on all the times he’s woken up and been met by Dean’s shuttered expression that was always shimmering with something just out of reach.

But he gets it now, gets what Dean’s been doing and he’s not ready to just let it go.

“Come back to bed, Dean,” Cas says, hesitating before dropping a barely-there kiss to Dean’s shoulder. He feels Dean hesitate too, feels the shudder that shivers it’s way down Dean’s spine. But then Dean is turning in his arms, pushing him backwards and wrestling him back into position—Dean’s head back on his chest, only this time Dean’s pulling his arms around him, tucking himself into Cas’ embrace.

“Is this…this okay?” Dean asks. Cas can feel how tense he is, so he tightens his arms around him once, before relaxing, his palms drawing soft, slow circles across Dean’s back.

“Yes, Dean,” he murmurs, dropping his chin to rest on the top of Dean’s head. “It’s perfect.”

And for the tenth time, Cas lets Dean fall asleep on him, safe in the knowledge that this time, when Dean wakes up, Cas won’t be letting him go.


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