i wonder if he fights with the glasses

anonymous asked:

Scenario where all the guys are arguing over being in love with the reader? (i want to see how they would handle that.)

I kind of made this an ailment thing anon, cause I just couldn’t see the bros arguing like that T-T I hope this is okay! 

While fighting a group of killer wasps, the boys are doused in an unrecognisable gas. It affects them in a most unusual way…

Fem!Reader x …all of the bros I guess!
WC: 4564 (another longer one, sorry!)


The sound of clanging metal was strong in your ears. You and the boys had unfortunately run into some killer wasps on your journey, and they were posing quite an annoying challenge. The three huge insects were rearing up again, and you knew that at any moment, they were going to release those horrible status ailment gases. Nimbly you dodged out of range.

“Guys! Look out!” But your warning call was too late as thick blue jets of gas expelled from the three wasps, clouding around the boys still in close range.

“Ugh, does it have to smell so bad?” cried Prompto, swishing his arms around desperately in a futile attempt to waft the gas away. You knew that it wasn’t going to stop the gas from working into their bodies though, once it hits you it’s like it clings to you.

“What even is this one?” Noctis yelled, warp striking to one of the wasps trying to fly higher out of reach. He plunged his engine blade into the wasp, bringing it back down to the ground where Ignis impaled it with his spear. One down.

“I must say I am rather confused myself. I’ve never seen that colour before.”

“Yeah well, I say we destroy them before it has a chance to work.” Gladio charged at the second wasp, knocking it to the floor with a heavy swing of his great sword. You agreed with Gladio, the sooner you got out of there the sooner you could see what kind of ailment they had and treat it accordingly.

“Just be careful you guys, don’t let them have a chance to do it again!” You told them, and Prompto swivelled around to face you, shooting you a beaming smile.

“It’s sweet that you’re so worried about us! Don’t worry, we’ve got this.”

As the blonde was speaking the third wasp loomed over him, stinger posed ready to strike, but he hadn’t noticed.

Damn it Prom!

Swiftly you brought up your pistol, borrow from Prompto’s own collection, and fired straight at its body. Prompto turned to see the insect fly backward from the impact of the shot, and turned to you once more.

“Um, thanks!” He grinned sheepishly, resolving to get his head back in the game.

“No problem, let’s get the last one.”

All five of you turned to the last one, hovering above you. Prompto stepped forward this time, raising his gun square at its head. And with one shot, he sent the insect crashing down to the ground, where Gladio hit it with his sword to make sure that it was truly dead.

You relaxed.

“Ahh, thank the gods that’s over.”  You stretched, pocketing your pistol once more.

“Yeah, and you’re getting better with your aim too.” Gladio nodded at you, and you smiled at his praise. You’d only been practicing for a few weeks, and this was really the first fight where you helped in the attack.

“Soon you might be even be as good as me.” Noctis smirked, never passing on the chance to boast. Gladio biffed him on the back of his head, causing you to laugh. Never a dull moment with your boys, that was for sure!

“You alright Iggy?” You turned to look at the tawny haired man who hadn’t yet spoke, his hand cupping his chin in thought.

“Yes, thank you. I’m just wondering… I really haven’t seen that colour of gas before from killer wasps.” He adjusted his glasses, coming to stand beside you as all five of you set off back to camp.

“Yeah, blue is a weird colour for gas!” Prompto agreed from your other side.

“Indeed… and there’s something else rather peculiar.”

“What’s that Ignis?”

“Why has it not affected us yet?”

That stumped everyone. Ignis was right, going by the rest of the gases that the wasps sprayed, the ailment should have been almost instant. It definitely would have been showing itself right about now at the very least, yet none of the boys looked worse for wear.

“Uh… immunity?” Prompto offered hopefully.

“I doubt it. When have we ever been fully immune to status attacks while not wearing protective accessories?”

“Good point specs, but are you saying that there’s something wrong with us here…?” Noctis asked the question that was on all your minds. They hadn’t shown any symptoms yet… but was that really a good thing?

“To give you an honest answer, I don’t know. But I feel we should err on the side of caution.”

And with that thought, the five of you trudged back to camp feeling more than a little weary.


Your stomach was full, you were warm sat beside the fire, and you were very comfortably stretched out on the floor, leaning on one elbow.

That’s the life!

By the time that Ignis had cooked his meal and everyone had consumed their share, the atmosphere had lifted somewhat. There had been no symptoms from any of the boys, and a good couple of hours had passed at least. In fact, the only one still worrying about it was of course, Ignis.

“We’re fine specs. If something were to happen, surely it would’ve happened by now?” Noctis nudged the man in question from his chair, opposite you. Ignis shook his head in reply.

“We don’t know that. Perhaps because it’s a new form of gas, it is a weaker solution than the others? Therefore, it wouldn’t act as fast. Or perhaps it just needs time to slowly work around our bodies?” He mumbled again, staring off into the distance. He really was absorbed in his thought process.

“Eh don’t sweat it. Whatever happens, we’ll get through it.” Gladio gave him a swift slap on the back, bringing him out of his reverie.

“Yes well, I sure hope so.” He answered quietly, re-adjusting his askew glasses.

“Hey [Name]! Do you want to go practice your shooting some more? You’re getting really good!” Prompto bounded over to you and tapped you on your back. He had been giving you shooting lessons for a while now, encouraging you to do your best so you could finally join in the fights properly. Today had been a big step for that, and you didn’t want to back down now.

“Heck yes!” You agreed, standing up instantly and scouring the area looking for the best place for shooting practice. Your eyes landed on a spot not far away from camp, in a clearing from the trees. The other boy should also be able to watch you and offer advice from where they were too.

“How about there?”

“Prefect!” And with that you followed Prompto down the hill, readying your pistol to practice. Prompto stood at the side of you, his own pistol aimed and at the ready.

“Right, so you wanna stand with your legs slightly apart to get the best balance, plant your feet firmly on the ground… well, when you can, I mean that may not be possible when you’re being attacked by killer wasps-”

“Get on with it!” Gladio called from the top of the hill, causing Prompto to flush in response. He loved this teacher roll; it felt great to be able to help someone like he was doing, to be needed by someone. So he felt anxious to not get it wrong.

“A-ah, you’re right! Okay so just copy my stance.”

You watched Prompto stand the way he just explained to you, his gun ready in an outstretched hand, and you did your best to mimic him.

“Like this?”

“Y-yeah you got it!”

That had sounded odd… Quickly you threw Prompto a glance. Was his speech getting slurred…?

“Okay, now raise your gun… aim for the branch of that tree there.”

Ignoring the slight slur and putting it down to exhaustion, you did as he asked and aimed for the tree in the distance.

“Now… shoot.”

The sound of the bullet echoed in the wide clearing, but the sound of the bullet lodging in the offending wood sounded even better to your ears.

“Yes!” You cried, hearing clapping from the top of the hill. The three boys were smiling at you, pleased you were getting better. It warmed your heart. Their support meant everything to you, and once again you were pleased that they had decided to let you join in their journey.

Gladio began chatting to Ignis, and you felt like having another go now two less people were watching. It would be less pressure for you. Cheeks flushed with excitement, you turned back to Prompto.

“Can I have another go?”

He chuckled at your eager expression, his big blue eyes sparkling.

“Of course! This time, try and show me the stance on your own.”

Nodding, you got to work.

Now what was it he said…? Stand with your legs apart for balance… feet on firmly planted… raise your arm…

“Is that it?” You asked, trying to look at the blonde over your shoulder.

“Nearly. You just need to move your leg an inch… no kind of like… hang on a second, I’ll show you.”

And in a completely unexpected move, Prompto came to stand very close behind you, his arms resting on your hips. It was like his proximity was suddenly all you could focus on, the almost feel of his chest against your back, the light drift of his breathing as his chin rested on your shoulder ever so lightly. The very real feeling of his fingers steadying your hips.


“Here, this arm needs to straighten out a little.” He uttered, his lips right at the shell of your ear, his voice taking on an unusually deep tone. His hands ran up from your hips, up along your waist and over your sides until he came to your arms. His fingers overlapped your elbows, gently coaxing them straight.

“Much better, though, your stance is still a little off…”


Suddenly you felt the pressure of Prompto’s leg sliding in between yours, tapping your feet slightly until you nudged them further apart. He kept his foot firmly planted between yours, his leg ever so slightly brushing against yours, sending chills up your body from the contact.

Well, this is certainly intimate.

“Prom, what are you doing?” You whispered, trying to turn your head to face him.

“Correcting your stance.” Was his simple answer, and suddenly you felt silly for asking. Of course that’s what he was doing. Perhaps a little unusual for Prompto who seemed to be a spluttering mess when he touched a girl, but maybe that’s just how bad your stance was.

Damn, I’ve really got to try harder.

So you left it at that, trying to ignore the slight buzz you were getting from his contact, choosing instead to focus on your aim.

Unbeknownst to you however, another set of piercing blue eyes were watching your every move.

What the hell is he doing?

Noctis had his head resting on a tightly closed fist, knowing that he probably looked as grumpy as he felt. But he just couldn’t help it. Prompto was over there just… just straight up fondling her in front of him. Under the guise of practice shooting, no less.

How dare he?

Shooting a quick look over at Ignis and Gladio, he realised they hadn’t noticed what was happening at the foot of that hill.

How could they not realise what he has done to get his grubby little hands on her?

Looking back down at the pair, his eyes zeroed in on Prompto’s fingers drifting over her body, his leg between hers, his arms pretty much wrapped around her…

He’s just imposing his presence on her like that!

He forcefully blew his fringe out of his face in annoyance, feeling his anger at the situation rise. And yet he just could not tear his eyes away from the scene unfolding before him.

“Noct, are you alright?” Ignis interjected his thoughts, draw by the annoyed huff.

“Just peachy.”

Ignis looked over to Gladio in confusion, who just shrugged in reply. Ignis knew at once what the big guy was thinking – bratty prince having another sulk, leave him to it. And so he did, continuing his earlier conversation.

Noctis meanwhile, was becoming increasingly frustrated. He felt his face becoming flusher by the second, his fists tightening as his blood boiled. His wide, piercing blue eyes alight with anger.

“You’re so good at this Prompto!” Came the sweet sound of her melodic voice, and he could stand it no longer. Forcefully, Noctis stood up from his chair and strolled down the hill, meeting the two at the bottom.

You noticed the raven haired boy’s presence before Prompto, and you turned around to face him, wiggling out of Prompto’s grasp. You smiled at him welcomingly, not registering the straight up scowl etched on his features as he continued walking, ignoring you completely. No, it seemed he had focused all his attention on the blonde stood next to you… Confused, you tried to talk to him.

“Hey, Noctis! Have you come to join in the- what the fuck?” You cried as Noctis had just continued on in strong strides, straight up to Prompto. Before you even had a chance to register what was happening, the prince had thrown back his fist and swung it straight into Prompto’s chest, causing him to stumble. It would have been his face had Prompto not moved at the last second, dodging to the side instead.

“Noctis – the hell are you doing?” You cried, dashing over to where Prompto had stumbled over with the intention of checking over the no doubt distraught boy. But as you reached him… you realised he had sat up himself, wearing a self-satisfied smirk.

Uh… that’s not the reaction I expected. You backed away slightly as Prompto rose to his feet, thoroughly confused at the scene unfolding in front of you. The air almost crackled with the tension in it, Noctis and Prompto pretty much squaring up to each other. The former was gritting his teeth in major annoyance, shaking his hand to ease off the sting. The latter was dusting himself off, that smirk never once slipping.

What… what has gotten into these guys?

“Did ya see that, your highness?” Prompto almost spat the title, something which you’d never heard him call Noctis even in a respectful manner. His tone had become incredibly cocky, it was completely jarring against his usual boyish voice.

Noctis didn’t answer, only glared back with shinning eyes.

“She came over to me. How do you like that? Mr I receive everything on a silver platter. This is one thing you can’t get – her!”

Hang on a second… what now? Since you were the only female around, they had to be talking about you. But you’d never disclosed your romantic feelings to anyone, it just wasn’t something you spoke about with the boys. Where on earth had this all come from?

“And it’s the one thing I won’t give up on.” Noctis answered angrily, balling his hands into fists once more. Prompto seemed to find this highly amusing, his smirk widening.


“Um, what the hell is going on here?” You cried, frustrated. This had to be some kind of wind up didn’t it? Quickly you flitted your gaze over to the two remaining boys atop the hill to see they were out of their chairs and watching the scene unfold with the same confusion in their eyes.

“Everything alright down there?” Came Ignis’ cautious voice. Even he felt unsure at what was happening, and also what to do.

Before you could answer, Prompto waved so casually to the tawny haired man, as if he was greeting an acquaintance.

“Superb, specs!” He called back cheerily, before his eyes rested on Noctis once more. His smile grew more pronounced, sending shivers up your spine. This… this wasn’t like your Prompto at all.

“I’ve seen the way you look at her. Pathetic.”

Noctis shook his head angrily, his frown deepening.

“Isn’t it enough that you have Lunafreya too? You always get everything Noctis.”

“Shut up.”

“And yet you still want more.”

“I said shut up!”

So ungrateful.”

And with that Noctis seemed to snap. With a strangled cry he charged forward once more, fists at the ready but this time Prompto knew what was happening. He swung back himself and soon the two boys were a flurry of fists, dull thwacks and crunches could be heard as the swings connected.

What…what in the…

“Noctis, stop! Prompto – ugh, help!” You turned pleadingly to Gladio and Ignis, seeing that they were already running down the hill to help break up the fight.

“[Name] get back!” Gladio cried, rushing forward to lock his arms around Noctis’ waist. Ignis ran behind Prompto to do the same, and eventually the two boys were pulled apart, breathing heavily. Prompto’s cheek seemed badly bruised, and Noctis has a shallow gash across his forehead.

“What in the name of the gods do you think you are doing?” Gladio admonished them both, the annoyance evident in his tone.

“Someone had to stop him from creeping on her.” Noctis kicked his legs out and struggled to get out of Gladio’s grip, meanwhile Prompto was stood calmly, not resisting Ignis’ hold.

“What are you talking about?” You’d just about had enough of this, whatever it was. You just wanted your old Prompto and Noctis back.

“He’s referring to his crippling jealousy, that’s what he’s talking about.” Prompto answered you, his tone still so sure and full of himself, rubbing a hand across his bruised cheek.

“Speak for yourself, you think you’re so slick? Don’t think we haven’t noticed how you always put your sleeping bag next to hers first in the tent. Desperate is what I’d call it.”

And for the first time since the whole thing had started, Prompto’s confident façade slipped at Noctis’ words and his features contorted in anger.

“How dare you?”

“How dare I what? Tell the truth?”

“Stop it! You sound like children!” You yelled at them both, finally causing them to stop squabbling for just a second. Were they actually both arguing about… about having feelings for you?

“Yes, I agree. You are both rather behaving like babies.” Ignis finally piped up, letting go of Prompto to straighten his glasses out. When he looked up, his eyes were shining. You sighed in relief, at least someone was talking sense.

“[Name] is rather befitting a man, wouldn’t you say?”

Maybe not.

His words took you by surprise, and even Gladio looked put out.


“What would you want these children for? I could really look after you.”

A slow smile spread across his face, one that didn’t sit too well with you. A sinking feeling coiled in the pit of your stomach as it dawned on you – whatever had happened to Noctis and Prompto had happened to Ignis too. All three of them were acting really strangely, and even if they did all feel that way about you, the normal guys would never have approached it this way!

“Oh no, not you too Iggy.” You whispered, wishing this nightmare would just come to an end.

“You hear that specs? She isn’t interested.” Noctis gloated and pulled free from Gladio’s shock loosened arms.

“That’s not what I – stop it!”

Straight away the prince had launched himself at Prompto once more, at the same time that Prompto had gone to knock Ignis over. The result was a three way fight, all participants using their well-honed battle skills against each other. None of them were listening to your pleas, and there was no way you could intervene. You had only just started your battle training, you weren’t as fast as Noctis, or as good an aim as Prompto, or even as lithe as Ignis. To stop all three of them would be impossible.

“Gladio, do something!” You turned to the only man left with his head not clouded with some sort of irrational anger.

Wait, clouded…? Clouded! The one word sparked a realisation within you – this had to be the work of that blue gas! It was the only explanation as to why the boys had all been affected in the same way; irrational anger, possessiveness…

And lust randomly? You remembered the touch of Prompto’s hands again, altering your shooting position earlier. You had thought it unusual for him at the time, but it made sense now. They were all reacting as if certain emotions had really been heightened, that had to be the symptoms of the gas. But they had all been struck by the gas, and that meant…

Slowly you looked up at the man stood beside you, to see that his eyes were also shimmering in the same, hazy way that the other boys’ eyes had.

Oh no

Your elation at figuring out what was wrong soon disappeared, replaced by an unsettled feeling in your stomach.

“Gladio…?” You whispered hopefully, but it was like he couldn’t hear you. He was listening intently to the three boys currently fighting.

“You both have no chance. Do you even know her favourite food? Her favourite colour? How about her favourite song?” Ignis taunted, ducking low to avoid Noctis’ leg swinging for him in a strong kick.

“That I can find out about her! You don’t know how best to comfort her. Oh yes, one night when she was feeling down? She came to me.” The prince goaded, grinning at their pained expressions.

“You? Now I know you’re lying, you’re about as comforting as a wet mop, Mr help-I-can’t-deal-with-emotions.” Prompto cried and tripped Noctis up, the latter landing hard on the ground with a dull moan. Angrily, he scrambled back up to his feet before Ignis could land a punch.

“I don’t know what you’re all squawking about.” Gladio interrupted, causing the three boys to freeze momentarily, looking at him wearily. “You know it’s me who can keep her warm at night. Has she ever cuddled up to you in our tent before? I didn’t think so.” He answered with a smirk, and you felt like burying your face in your hands.

When will this end? Other status ailments usually wore off on their own, but this one was so slow to start with, who knew when it would end?

Suddenly with a heavy thud, Prompto collapsed onto his knees and fell face first onto the floor.

Prompto!” You screeched, running forward and kneeling beside him hurriedly. You hadn’t even considered the possibility that this ailment could actually… kill any of them. Nervously, you took hold of one wrist, checking for any signs of life. A steady pulse thrummed under your fingers, and you sighed in relief.

“He’s alive! Just fainted.” You breathed.

“Huh, fainted. What a coward.”

Returning your focus back to Prompto, you brushed his blonde hair gently out of his face. From that touch alone you could feel the heat radiating off his forehead – he had a fever. Was this good or bad? Did it mean his body was fighting off the ailment?

“Oh Prom. I hope you wake up soon.”


The shout brought your attention back to the other three, and instantly your eyes clapped onto the fallen frame of Noctis. He had also collapsed in a similar way to Prompto. It had to be the effect of the gas.

“I can’t believe…that they…” But Ignis never had a chance to finish his sentence as he followed suit, hitting the floor with a dull bang. Gladio followed straight after, his immune system most likely the stronger of the four.

Looking around you, you sighed heavily. Now what?


In the end, you had decided to bring the tent down to the boys, doing your best to shove them into the small space. It had been a horrible waiting game, dabbing a cool cloth at their roasting foreheads and praying that they would be okay. You’d never been more scared in your life, and you were damn sure you hadn’t slept for longer than five minutes when you felt someone shaking your shoulder.

“[Name]! [Name] c’mon, it’s time to get up or Iggy will be furious!”

“Huh?” You groaned, sitting up and opening your bleary eyes to see…

“Prompto! You’re okay!” You gasped, now wide awake. He was knelt in front of you, his cheek significantly better and his usual happy grin on his face.

“Huh? Course I am! Though for some reason this side of my face is really sore… I must have slept on it funny.” The boy sat in front of you rubbed his cheek, in the exact same place where it had swollen the day before.

“What… do you not remember how you did it?” You asked, thoroughly confused.

“Eh, not really. But since we are fighting all the time, I was probably battling it out heroically with some sort of beast.” He chuckled, and then swivelled on his heel and left you alone in the tent. Unless he was a brilliant actor – which you knew he wasn’t since he was terrible at lying – Prompto had all but forgotten the events of last night.

Eagerly you threw on your clothes and scrabbled out of the tent. On top of that hill, stood all four of the boys, chatting and laughing as usual.

What on earth…?

As confused as you were however, the relief in your heart was overwhelming. Your boys were safe, they were alive and best of all they were back to normal.

“Come on [Name], your breakfast is getting cold!” Ignis tutted in his usual, friendly yet admonishing manner that hinted he was only slightly annoyed.

Without hesitating you ran up the hill happily, smiling at the welcoming sight of the group all back to normal, though confusingly, none of them seemed to remember what had happened in their hazy state the night before. But that suited you just fine. You weren’t about to relive the horrifying details, but you knew to stay away from killer wasps in the future.

“I still don’t know why you pitched the tent down there big guy.” Prompto gestured to the tent as you dug into your breakfast.

“Actually… I don’t either. But I thought of it, so it must have been a good reason.”

“Maaan, I was so tired last night I must have just blacked out when my head hit the pillow.” Noctis stretched, beginning to pack away the camping things.

So they really don’t remember…

“Me too.” Prompto agreed.

“And me… Iggy must have cooked us a fine meal that sent us straight to sleep.” Gladio nodded at Iggy who smiled and shook his head.

“I hope that you consider all my meals that way.” He half-joked.

After you had finished wolfing down your breakfast, you helped pack away the remaining items into the regalia and soon you were on your way again, sat in between a napping Noctis and a reading Gladio. Things had really gone back to normal.

But as you relaxed in the back of the car, pleased that your boys were safe, you couldn’t help but wonder… did that gas force the illusion of those strong feelings for you onto the guys, or did it simply heighten the feelings that were already there…? You cast a quick glance at each of them, all blissfully unaware of what they had said last night.

I wonder

A/N: What do you think, dear reader? :3

Oh damn. It took a time till I realized that Eggsy looked THAT bitter and sad at Mr. Pickle in the beginning of “The Golden Circle” because that dog is a constant reminder of the last fight with Harry. It’s not a simple reminder of Harry. It’s a reminder of that fight!

When I saw it the first time, I wondered why there was something different than the usual sadness in Eggsy’s eyes. It’s remorse. 

The whole Mr. Pickle thing caused that fight (kind of) and it was the last time Eggsy saw Harry alive. So whenever he sees Mr. Pickle, he remembers that day and he feels guilty because of all those things he said to Harry. 

And I’m pretty sure that Eggsy had more than one sleepless night where he sat at the table with a glass of Martini while he looked straight at Mr. Pickle in the bathroom and thought about that last moment with Harry. And how he fucked up. You can’t convince me otherwise. 

Not Today - Derek Hale x Reader

This was inspired by ‘Not Today’ by Imagine Dragons, you can listen to it here

A/N: This is set after episode three of season 3A. 

Pairing: Derek Hale x Female Reader

Derek Hale Masterlist

Derek stared blankly out of the windows, his t-shirt torn to shreds as blood dried on his tired limbs. He didn’t care, he was so lost, so confused. Erica was gone and Cora had come back. His mind was weighed down by grief as he wondered how he’d never known that Cora was still alive, how happy it would have made Laura.

Scott and Stiles were stood behind him, watching the alpha wearily as they tried to figure out what to do. It had been a long night, and while both of them were eager to get some sleep, they knew they couldn’t leave Derek like this.

“You have to call her” Stiles turned to Scott in shock, wondering if he’d been hit in the head at some point during the fight.

“You’ve got to be joking. Do you really think he wants to see (y/n) of all people right now?” Scott let out an exasperated sigh, rubbing his hands down his face as exhaustion crept into his muscles.

“We have to try, she’s the only one Derek will listen to” Stiles eyed him doubtfully but, finding no other options, dialled (y/n)’s number.

(Y/n) groaned as she was roused awake by the incessant ringing of her phone. Leaning across the bed to reach for her phone, she answered the call.

“Hello?” There was a heavy sigh before an all too familiar voice spoke.

“Hey (y/n)”

“For Christ sake Stiles, it’s three in the morning” (Y/n) fell back against her pillows, wondering what the hell he’d got himself into this time.

“I know, trust me I know. But we need your help, its Derek” A pang of pain hit (y/n) in the centre of the chest, she spent her days trying to forget about him but the mere mention of his name brought everything rushing back.

“Stiles, I don’t know if you remember but we’re not a couple anymore. Derek won’t want my help” She struggled to keep her voice even as she listened to Stiles swear quietly.

“Look, I wouldn’t call you unless it was a last resort but things a bad, they’re really bad and I don’t know how to help him” The teenager’s words became more panicked the longer he spoke.

“Okay Stiles, I’ll be there”

Twenty minutes later, (y/n) was knocking on Derek’s door while wondering what the hell she was doing. They’d broken one another and she had no idea what seeing each other again would do to them. Before she had time to turn back, Stiles was wrenching the door open and pulling her inside. He kept looking over his shoulder as he contemplated how to explain the situation to (y/n).

“Okay, so” He paused, wetting his lips as he tried not to focus on the horror he’d seen throughout the night. “-Erica is dead but Derek found his little sister”

“Cora?” Stiles drew back in shock.

“I was his girlfriend Stiles, Derek does share some things” (Y/n) reached for Stiles’ hand, squeezing it gently. “I’m sorry about Erica”

He only nodded before glancing at Derek again. “Look, he’s not coping very well. He’s been staring out of the window for the best part of two hours”

“And you only just called me?” (Y/n) threw up her hands in exasperation. “Go get some rest, I’ll take care of him”

Stiles let out a sigh of relief, happy to join Scott who had left ten minutes earlier as he stepped past her to reach the door. He shot one last concerned look at Derek before thanking her and leaving. (Y/n) watched the alpha cautiously, wondering if he’d even noticed her presence. Worrying her lip, she grabbed a clean t-shirt from Derek’s bedroom before filling up a glass of water. She made her way towards him, holding out the glass. Derek dropped his eyes down to the drink but didn’t say anything as he remained still.

“You need to drink Derek” He sighed heavily, watching the city below him instead of acknowledging her presence. Her scent alone was driving him mad, he wasn’t quite sure what would happen if he let himself look at her and he didn’t want to find out. (Y/n) set the water down and offered him the t-shirt instead. “At least change your top”

Derek stubbornly kept his eyes forward, waiting for her to leave so he could grieve in peace. When he continued to ignore her, (y/n) let the t-shirt fall to the floor, moving to sit on the table. “Derek, I know you don’t want me here but I’m not going to leave until I know you’re okay”

Derek almost snorted at that because when was he ever really okay? He was either fighting off his psychotic uncle or ex-girlfriend or now an alpha that was set on him joining his pack of killers. He swallowed thickly as he stopped himself from looking at her reflection in the glass. The ache in his chest was growing stronger and he didn’t know how to stop it.

Derek flinched when a drop of water hit his hand, shock running through his body when he realised he was crying. He wondered if (y/n) knew, if she was thinking how weak he was, how he was a useless alpha because he couldn’t even protect his own pack. He remained still when (y/n) stood up and reached for his hand. The warmth of (y/n)’s hand in his was familiar and foreign all at once. There had been a time when holding her had been all he wanted to do, a small reassurance that she was his just as he was hers. But now it unsettled him because it wasn’t real, she was only doing it out of sympathy.

“Derek, it’s okay” (Y/n)’s voice was barely more than a whisper as she watched tears cut through the blood and grime on Derek’s cheeks. He swallowed noisily, looking at her for the first time since she arrived. His heart sputtered out of rhythm as guilt settled heavily in his stomach.

“I’m not even sure I remember what okay is any more”

“I know it might seem that way now, but whatever this is we’ll fight it and find our way back to being okay” (Y/n) was talking like they were still a couple and it was killing Derek because they couldn’t have been further from being in a relationship. He’d destroyed their friendship by rushing into a relationship he knew he wasn’t ready for, but he’d done it anyway because he was stupid and reckless and couldn’t see how much he needed her until he’d forced her to leave after one too many broken promises. He loved her and he’d never be able to tell her. What kind of coward would he be if he chained (y/n) to him only to suffocate the light in her eyes with his own darkness? “It might not happen today, it might not happen for weeks, but it will get easier”

Derek turned to her, the tears in his eyes catching in the light as he thought of everything he’d lost and how much he had left to lose. “It’s a nice idea, but it’s not made for people like me”

“Derek” (Y/n) tried to brush away his tears but he flinched, hurt rushing through her chest as she let her hand drop. “At least let me take care of you, please”

“What’s the point?” The breath caught in (y/n)’s throat as she scrambled for a way to ease the pain in Derek’s eyes.

“I won’t be able to sleep if I leave you like this, so if you won’t do it for yourself, do it for me” Guilt stirred in her stomach as she used the unresolved feelings between them against him but it was the only way she could get through to him. “Please Derek”

He nodded slowly, letting (y/n) take his hand as she guided him towards the bathroom. She started the shower, making sure to get the temperature right before setting out a towel and stepping aside so Derek could take a shower in peace. He watched her as she moved, wondering if this is what life with her would be like, having a guardian angel to take care of him.

While Derek showered, (y/n) found some clean clothes and placed them on his bed before moving into the kitchen to try and cook something that would resemble a meal. It felt so strange to be back in the loft, it had been so long since she’d last been there and it hadn’t exactly been pretty. It wasn’t until tonight that she’d realised just how deeply her words had cut, she’d always assumed that Derek was over her before he’d even ended their relationship.

The soft pad of approaching footsteps roused (y/n) from her thoughts as she turned to smile at Derek. His hair was dripping down his neck as he hid his hands in the sleeves of his t-shirt. He struggled to meet her eye as she handed him a bowl of steaming pasta.

“Thank you” Derek’s voice was hoarse as he took a mouthful of pasta, relishing the taste of real food. (Y/n) tentatively reached for his hand, smiling at him softly.

“You’re welcome” They were quiet as Derek finished his food. He expected (y/n) to leave but she cleaned up the kitchen before moving over to his bed, taking the time to make it properly before taking the empty bowl from his hands and nodding towards the bed. Too tired to argue, Derek complied with her wishes, trudging over to his bed and sitting down heavily. Scrubbing his hands down his face, Derek dreaded the day to come, knowing that he would have to face it alone.

Gentle hands pulled his away from his face. (Y/n) smoothed Derek’s damp hair away from his face and brushed away a stray tear with the pad of her thumb. “Lie down Derek, try to get some sleep”

Swallowing thickly, he did what she said, settling back against his pillows and trying to get comfortable. (Y/n) started to walk towards the door before Derek caught her wrist with trembling fingers.

“Stay” His voice cracked as fear bubbled in his throat. Understanding crossed (y/n)’s face as she nodded, rounding the bed to slip under the covers on the other side. She moved closer to Derek, letting him wrap his arms around her waist as she rested her head on his chest, the soft beat of his heart soothing her. Neither of them knew what tomorrow would hold as they stared into the darkness wide eyed, but for now, at least, they had each other.

Angel (III)

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Pairing: You / Jackson

Rating: PG-13

Word Count: 3,511

Summary:  You’re a medical intern, always a perfectionist and used to being the best at everything you do. Jackson Wang is the male nurse beloved by everyone and constantly on your nerves. When you two are brought together, it could be the best or the worst thing that’s ever happened.

Originally posted by jypnior

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Truth or Dare

Summary: Betty, Archie, Veronica, Jughead, Kevin, Cheryl, and Y/N are spending the night at Y/N’s house. Kevin suggests Truth or Dare at some point and they all decide to play. Shenanigans ensue and eventually certain feelings are shared, but will they be taken seriously or laughed off? Possible angst.

Pairing: Jughead x Reader (maybe)

Multi-fic: Yes? I’m splitting this up into a couple chapters so *finger-guns*

A/N: First Riverdale fic so sorry if anyone here sounds a bit OOC. Also, I don’t really write so *shrugs* be nice please. I had this idea just pop up and HAD to write it.

This was a horrible idea. Truly horrible. It hadn’t even been a half hour into the game before people started getting crazy and clothes were lost. It had started out as a simple sleep over. I just wanted all my friends to be in one place for once without someone trying to rip another’s throat out. My parents had left for the weekend so we were all situated in the living room, Cheryl and I sat in the loveseat, Betty, Veronica, and Archie were on the couch, Jughead was on the recliner (legs crossed and on his laptop), and Kevin was perched on the coffee table between the couch and recliner.

Within ten minutes of the game starting Veronica had dared Betty to keep her shirt off for the rest of the night, Kevin had dared Archie to take his pants off, Cheryl dared me to lose my shirt, Betty (with a face so red you’d think she would’ve passed out) had dared V to ditch her dress, I got Kev to take his shirt off, and Archie got Jug to lose his shirt. Jug had just dared Archie to not be an idiot for the rest of the night, which made everyone laugh. Everyone except Cheryl was somewhat nude and embarrassed.

“Y/N,” Kevin called my name. “Yes,” I answered, staring right at him, trying to be cocky. “Truth… or dare?” He asked, a twinkle in his eye. Everyone stared at me as I debated my choices. I decided I didn’t trust that twinkle, and no matter what choice I made I’d be in trouble. “Truth.” I sighed. Kevin’s face almost split in two at my answer, his grin enormous. I tried not to gulp in fear. “I want you to tell everyone here what you really, truly think about them. ‘Fuck,’ I thought. ‘Not good.’ I looked him dead in the eye as I said fine, and re-positioned myself on the couch. I took a deep breath before looking at him and speaking. “You’re first then hun,” I said as a small smile grew on my face.

“Kevin, I love you, and I mean that in the most platonic way possible. You were the first friend I made here, and my best friend, and I’ll never forget the way you introduced yourself,” “Oh god Y/N please no!” Kevin cried, a blush creeping up on his face. “Y/N yes,” I mocked. “It adds to the story. Anyways, we were five, I had just moved to town the day before. I was walking through the park when all of a sudden I see this kid come running towards me at full speed, only to fall flat on his face three feet away,” Everyone started laughing while Kevin’s face grew redder. “Y/N!!!” He wailed. “Hush!” I said, still chuckling. “I ran over to him to help but he just sprung up and grabbed my hand and started shaking it. ‘Hi, my name’s Kevin, what’s your name? Wanna play!?’ I mocked in a little kid’s voice. Kevin hit me with a pillow. “I didn’t sound like that!” “Kevin shut up or she’ll never finish.” Cheryl spoke. “Yeah,” Archie spoke up. “I kinda wanna hear what Y/N has to say about me too some time tonight.”

Kevin made a zipping motion with his hands over his mouth before sitting back down, playfully glaring at me as well. “I told him my name and he said it was very pretty, and then he asked me if I liked boys, girls, or both. I was really confused at the time but Kevin just repeated it and told me he only liked boys ‘There’s a word for that you know, it’s called gay, and that’s what I am, so are you gay too?’ I just shook my head and said I didn’t like anyone.” I gave a light chuckle. “Kev gave me a weird look before he shrugged and said that was fine, and to come to him if anyone was being mean to me about not liking boys or girls. I knew at that moment we were going to be best friends,” Betty and Ronnie “Aww-ed”, Cheryl rolled her eyes, but I could see the smile in them, Archie smiled and Jug gave a smirk. 

“You’ve always been there for me Kev, every time I needed you, and I feel honored every time you come to me because you need someone. You pushed me out of my comfort zone so many times, and for the most part you knew when to back off. You’re so sassy and confident and I’m so jealous you have the confidence to be who you are. You always try to look on the bright side of things and keep everyone in a cheery mood. You’re amazing and wonderful and I never wanna let you go.”

I paused to look at Kevin, his eyes were watering up and I could tell he was trying very hard not to cry right then and there. “You mean the goddamn world to me Kev, you’re the twin brother I wish I always had. I’d crawl on broken glass for you. I’ll always be here for you whenever you need someone to vent to, or if you ever need someone to have your back in a fight.” We smirked at each other, my eyes starting to water up as well. “I love you Kevin Keller, with every fiber of my being, and I’ll be damned before I let anyone hurt you.” As soon as I had finished Kevin jumped at me, a couple tears streaming down his face and falling on my shirt as he nearly squeezed the life out of me. I hugged him back immediately and held him just as tightly, a few tears of my own falling as well. “Oh, I love you too Y/N! You’ve always been like a sister to me. I swear you mean the world to me too!” 

He kissed me on the cheek as we pulled away. When I looked around I saw that everyone had gotten misty-eyed, even Jughead, who was trying (and failing) to make it look like he hadn’t been paying attention the whole time. Kevin eventually made his way back to the coffee table, wiping his eyes before looking straight at me. “I swear to god Y/N if the rest of your speeches go anything like this I’m grounding you.” Everyone laughed while I looked around the room, trying to see who I would talk about next.

A.N.: Okay! First part is up! Let me know what you guys think and who Y/N should talk about next *wink* Also if you wanna be tagged that’s more than fine just let me know please!

Tag List (okay just *blushes*): @mrsjugheadjonesthethird, @supernovares

“If only the world wasn’t so cruel” - Loki x Reader

A/N: I was up writing this WITH PEN AND PAPER at 11 and it took me some time to write it up here on Tumblr (I had no time for sleep - sleep is for the weak)

Title: “If Only The World Wasn’t So Cruel”

Word Count: 707 (OH)

Warnings: a lil’ angst I guess? not really fluff, not really smut

Loki peered lovingly into his mirror as he watched a certain girl hum a soft tune to herself. Her black cat curled up next to her, purring gently. She looked so calm, warm and inviting - everything Loki was not. He marveled at her, wondering how someone like her could have an otherworldly kind of beauty.

"One day Lady Y/N, I will meet you. And one day…” His hand reached out to touch the glass in a lousy attempt to caress y/n’s soft cheeks.

“You will be mine”

Loki was so deeply in love with the human whom he had only heard of and seen through his enchanted mirror. She was one of the hardworking avengers - fighting alongside Thor. So when Loki had heard stories about the legendary “Repaer” he almost fell instantly in love.

Y/N was called Repaer for a reason. Like her older brother - the Grim Reaper - Y/N everything she touched died. As a child, she was an outcast, a freak. Her own brother hated her for the fact that she had bigger wings than him. The only thing that made her the opposite of the Reaper is that she took bad souls, not innocent ones. She escorts the ones who’ve done bad to Helheim with a smile on her face and a skip in her step.

She was there in the battle of New York, but she and Loki never met.

“Brother, what is it that you see when you gaze at that mirror all day?”
Loki jumped up, startled. 

With a wave of his hand the image of y/n was gone and was replaced with his own reflection.

“Is it wrong to admire one’s self brother? I tend to fall in love with my reflection. Don’t you do that when you swing your hair back and forth in front of your mirror like one would do in a Midgardian TV commercial?” Loki said with his eyebrow quirked.

Thor cleared his throat awkwardly and gestured at the mirror, “Please, do carry on,” He never thought anyone could see him bounce his lovely gold locks in front of the mirror.

The elder brother made his way out of Loki’s room. Loki groaned in frustration when Thor forgot to close his door - again. With a wave of his hand, the door closed and a blue mist appeared in front of Loki.

The blue mist swirled before him. A Midgardian tune that Loki grew fond of - Suite No. 1 in G major - started playing softly in the back of his mind. He hummed the soft tune as the mist took the form of Lady Y/N. She bowed, a smile gracing her soft lips as her eyes twinkled up at Loki. Loki grinned half-halfheartedly at the illusion he had created. A fantasy, a glimpse of what could happen, a glimpse of what he wanted to happen. The Asgardian Prince took Y/N’s hand and kissed her knuckles - even after all the lies of evil that people claimed he’s done, Loki was still a gentleman. His hand went to Y/N’s hip, the other holding her hand. Y/N looked down at her feet, a soft blush creeping ever so slightly onto her cheeks.

They began to dance, blue mists now appearing and swirling in random places of the room. They turned into stars as the world around Loki blurred, like different colors of paint blending together on a canvas. Loki and Y/N were now dancing amongst the stars. Y/N’s wings fluttered ever so slightly as she met Loki’s gaze.

“If only the world wasn’t so cruel…” Loki sighed as their dance came to an end.

Y/N stood up on her toes and leaned over to plant a soft kiss on the Prince’s cheek. Loki closed his eyes, smiling sadly. When he opened his eyes, he was back in his room with nothing but a disappearing swirl of mist that took the image of Y/N fading away. Loki felt a tear run down his cheek, and for once in his life… he let himself cry. Slowly his eyes turned into a crimson red, and his skin turned a sickly blue. He cried  even more.

How could she ever love a monster like me? He thought as Loki Laufeyson- the prince of Asgard and Jotunheim - cried himself to sleep.

7 times they noticed (5/7)

Space Princess time! This was actually super super hard to write.

Lance was tired. Of course he was tired. But he knew that although fighting against a super-villian overlord that had enslaved and killed entire worlds was tiring, it had to be done. So when Allura called them all up onto the deck, he sighed and got off the bed he had started to call home for the day. He wandered into the control room, sighing as he noticed he was the last one.

“Hey babe.” He fingergunned at Allura, his smile hollow. Keith rolled his eyes, and Lance shrunk inside, cursing. “What’s up? Invasion? Are we in danger?” He questioned, scratching his head and yawning. Allura smiled in that restrained, too-polite way she often did.

“No, Lance. I am recognizing that perhaps…” She sniffed, as if what she was saying was an affront to her sensibilities. “I have been pushing you all too hard.” She sighed, and Lance grinned.

“Don’t worry princess, I can go all day long.” He wiggled his eyebrows jokingly, and Pidge groaned, their face scrunching up in disgust. Shiro gave him the Dad Look, and in return Lance smiled nervously. Allura sighed, continuing.

“In…any case. We have the day off. We can’t fight Zarkon every day, every minute. So…you have free range, so to speak.” Allura looked at the Paladins. Pidge perked up, pushing their glasses up as they glanced to Coran.

“Heey!” They said, waving slightly. “Can we go back to that space Mall, Coran? I wonder what other game systems they have!” Pidge scratched her chin as she spoke, nodding. Coran puffed up.

“Of course, no. 5, I would be happy to go back to that…what did you call it?” Coran trailed off, unsure.

“Space Mall.” Hunk piped in, smiling.

“Space Mall, indeed. Well, anyone else want to come?” Coran looked around the others with a broad grin, mustache twitching. Hunk raised his hand, as did Shiro.

“It might be good to have some time off.” Shiro smiled gently, as Hunk nodded in agreement.

“Hey Lance, my bro!” Lance looked at Hunk, who had yelled across the room to get his attention.

“Yeah, dude?” Lance stuck his hands in his pockets and leaned back in a show of nonchalance, failing when he almost fell over. Pidge let out a snort of laughter and Lance glared at them.

“Do you…want to come with?” Hunk was hesitant as he looked straight into Lance’s eyes. Lance looked away quickly, staring down at the floor. There was a moment of silence before Lance realised he had to actually respond.

“Oh. Nah, dude. I’m kind of tired.” He quickly glanced into Hunk’s eyes, and seeing the worry in them, returned his eyes to the floor.

“Yeah, sure man. Hey, Keith-y boy!” Hunk yelled once again, this time to attract the attention of the mullet-clad emo. Keith looked up.

“Yeah?” He wasn’t looking at Hunk, instead picking underneath his fingernails idly. Lance winced at the habit.

“Want to come with?” He turned to Allura. “And how about you, princess?” Hunk raised his eyebrows as he looked between Keith and Allura. Allura slowly shook her head.

“No, I will stay here and man the ship. Not all of us can let our guard down.” Allura pointed her chin up and breathed deeply, her eyes heavy with tiredness. Keith looked to Hunk and shrugged.

“I was just going to go train.” As he spoke, he flipped his jacked that had been sitting in his hands over one shoulder, and turned to walk out of the room.

“…okay.” Hunk spoke quietly, obviously taken aback. He followed Keith out of the control room, as did the others. Only Allura and Lance were left. Lance smiled sheepishly as he fidgeted on the spot. Allura moved to return to the main console, but turned and looked at Lance. Lance winced.

“Did you need something from me, Lance?” Her voice was light, but her brows were creased, and her eyes as they so often tended to be, were steely. 

“Uh? No?” Lance laughed nervously, before putting his face in his hands, breathing in sharply. “Well, I was wondering if you were alright.” Allura looked taken aback at his words.

“Well…that’s very kind of you, but I am not in need of any assistance. You look tired. You should go rest.” She smiled, but it did not reach her eyes. Lance swallowed nervously.

“Well, it’s just that you’ve been working yourself so hard and -” Lance was cut off as Allura raised a hand.

“Lance.” The word was clipped as her jaw clenched. “I am fine.” She breathed heavily, her eyes blazing with annoyance. Lance drew back in apology, face twisting into concern.

“..sorry.” He muttered as he drew back, leaving the room. “Can’t do anything right, I know.” He slouched, his shoulders bunching up.

“Wait!” Allura’s voice was loud, and he turned around to see the princess with her hand stretched out.  “I am… a little tired perhaps? But…” She trailed off, seemingly picking her words carefully. “Are…are you okay, paladin? You’ve been spending much time in your bed. Is this a human thing I do not know about?” Her words were careful and hesitant, and Lance laughed.

“Saving the universe takes a toll on someone this good. I’ve just been resting.” His tone was light and conversational, but betrayed by the tremour in his hand.

“Are you sure?” Allura leant in, studying his posture, honing in on his shaking hand. He cursed under his breath.

“No.” He let out a short laugh. “I’m terrified princess.” His smile turned into a grimace as he blinked furiously, looking down at the floor. “What if I never go home?” He looked up, and her face was uncertain as she bit her lip.

“You will.” She raised herself up, breathing deeply and slowly. “By the word of my ancient forefathers and mothers. You will.” She smiled sadly, tears beginning to drip onto her cheek.

“I’m sorry.” Lance spoke, his voice cracking. “I know you have no home to get back too. I shouldn’t complain.” He turned  his head away as Allura strode to meet him at the door, placing her hand on his shoulder.

“I have a home now. This is my home. Coran is my home. You all are my home.” She nodded, and Lance winced, shying away from her touch. She sighed and continued. “And it is okay to be scared. And it is okay if you cannot call this place home. It is okay to want your family.” She drew Lance into a hug. He broke down, sobbing into her shoulder.

They stood there for a moment as each other’s tears dripped onto their shoulders. Allura pulled away, and gracefully wiped the tears off her face. Lance smiled weakly.

“Thanks princess.” His voice was heavy as tears caught in his throat.

“Do not mention it, Lance.” Allura nodded. “Now, I must get back to work.”

“But -” Lance started, rolling his eyes. Allura once again raised her hand to stop him.

“It’s important.” Allura smiled playfully, her words light. “Go take a nap. I’ll man the ship.”

Lance acquiesced, nodding and bowing out, before sticking his head around the corridor.

“Yell if you need me.” Lance smiled and wiggled his eyebrows in a suitably ridiculous fashion. Allura did not humour it with a response, merely sighing. As he turned round the corridor towards his room, he smiled to himself. Maybe he could do this.

( He could almost hear Hunk’s voice. “maybe you didn’t have to do it alone.”)


Wow this was longer than I expected. That took a while, didn’t it. Sorry, but thanks for reading!

(nb: this is platonic, even if Allura’s age is completely up in the air.)

(17/4/17: Allura is done, and Hunk, Pidge, Shiro, and Coran are all up as well. Keith is coming soon!)

Read the other parts:

rayrayswimusic  asked:

May I please request Ouran AU for Yoi pleaseeeeeeeee

s/o to discord for prompting! this is a bit hasty lol. for the purposes of this ficlet let’s say they’re all high school age. all of them.

“Terrible! Absolutely atrocious! Not refreshing at all – minus fifty points!”

“But Hana!”

Yuuri turns away from the window where he had been sweeping. So much for spending golden week tucked away at a different resort in order to get away from the Ice Castle Host Club. No, the rich kids of the host club just can’t get it through their thick heads that their presence is not always appreciated, especially not when it comes roaring in overhead from a helicopter and then insisting on a competition to see who gets to stay in the last free room at the Paradise Bed and Breakfast.

Of course a part of him is a little glad to see familiar faces – Christophe, the Crispino twins, Yurio and Otabek – but the happiness is tempered somewhat by the beautiful and loud presence of one Viktor Nikiforov, who is currently being yelled at by Hana for doing a cruddy job at fixing a broken fence.

Honestly, there was no need for him to show up in a helicopter, thinking Yuuri had been kidnapped. It was sweet, but embarrassing. As are a lot of things that the beloved co-founder and president of the Ice Castle Host Club does.

(Yuuri hates being embarrassed. It really drives up the anxiety.)

He heads out after finishing up his sweeping with a couple glasses of lemonade, intending to deliver them to the host club members who are working outside. He finds Christophe first, lounging at a table drinking a cappuccino while surveying the mayhem that is a pack of rich high school kids trying to do manual labour with an amused expression.

“You’re not joining in on the competition?” Yuuri asks.

Christophe shakes his head. “The Giacomettis have a summer house here!” he replies. “Why bother with a hotel room when I can sleep in my own? Far more comfortable, at least.”

Yuuri resists the urge to roll his eyes. “I bet,” he remarks. “Lemonade?”

Christophe nods, so Yuuri pours him a glass. “You know,” the Swiss man remarks as he takes it with a grin, “it won’t be a big deal for the people who lose this, right?”

“Yeah, they can find lodging in other parts of town,” Yuuri replies.

Christophe laughs. “No, they’ve all got summer houses here.”

Yuuri resists the urge to groan. “Then why are they all fighting over the last room here?”

Christophe shrugs, almost carelessly. “Maybe one of them really does care about you, and just has a terrible way of showing it?” he wonders innocently. 

A couple paces away, Viktor accidentally hits his thumb with the hammer and screeches. Next to him, Yurio starts yelling at him to pull himself together and get over it.

“Want to bet on who’s going to win?” asks Christophe.

Yuuri raises an eyebrow. “Does this come out of my debt?”

“Maybe,” says Christophe.

“What are the odds?”

Christophe shrugs. “Well, at the current pace, His Majesty won’t be winning anytime soon,” he says, pointing to Viktor’s current slumped position by the fence. “The twins only really work well when Sara can stop Mickey from yelling at any man who bothers to smile in her direction. Yuri is clearly not interested in winning this, either, which means that Otabek, even though he’s clearly been the most helpful one so far, won’t be accepting a victory if it means he can’t stay with Yuri.”

“Those are just your observations,” Yuuri points out.

Christophe shrug again. “You can tell who my best contender is, though,” he points out. 

Yuuri huffs. “If I win this wager, then what?”

“I’ll knock half of the remaining balance off your account. If you don’t win, nothing happens. You’ve nothing to lose in this, really.” Christophe’s eyes twinkle. “What do you say?”

Yuuri sends a look over at Viktor, who is trying to convince a deeply disturbed Yuri to kiss his sore thumb better. 

“Deal,” he says, and steps away with the lemonade tray.

As much as the president of the host club mortifies him on a regular basis, it doesn’t necessarily mean Yuuri doesn’t want to see him win. After all, Viktor’s genuine, not-for-the-clients smile is actually quite a wonder. There really is no point to doing things like calling up an entire horse-drawn carriage to take Yuuri to campus or custom-ordering him fancy outfits (especially dresses. It’s not that Yuuri doesn’t mind dresses – gender is fake, after all – but the ones Viktor tries to buy for him are just a little too much) or showing up at his holiday workplace in a freaking helicopter, for god’s sake. Not when all Viktor really has to do is smile, truly and genuinely, and be himself.

Not the president of the host club, not the bastard-turned-heir of the Nikiforov dynasty. Just himself.

“I brought you lemonade, Viktor,” Yuuri says.

Viktor looks up at him with wide, adoring eyes. “Lemonade, served to me from the delicate fingers of Yuuri Katsuki himself? What a delight!”

Yuuri resists the urge to groan. “You know you’re just wasting away your potential out here doing something you’re not even good at, right?” he asks.

Viktor pouts. “You don’t like my handiwork?” he asks, gesturing to the fence. For a moment Yuuri’s half-convinced he’s looking at a Salvador Dali painting instead of a picket fence.

“No,” he says. 

Viktor’s pout grows. Yuuri pushes the cup into his hands.

“Clearly carpentry isn’t your calling, Viktor,” he says. “Maybe you should… find a better tune.”

He steps back towards the inn after that, leaving Viktor out by his Surrealist fence, and hopes his hint had been enough. 

When the lovely strains of a violin begin to emanate from the dining room moments later, he knows it had. 

Meihem- First Kiss

“I told you, you should not have been following me! Those awful bombs of yours ruined the inside of that poor bakery!” Mei sat leaning against a brick wall in one of the far back alleys of Dorado, her boots off and one of her leggings pulled up as she applied bandages to some of her scrapes and bruises.

Junkrat sat across from her, back hunched like an angry cat as he tended to his own minor cuts, though with less anti-septic and more ‘spit and dirt’ techniques. He glared back at her, snorting a bit. “And I told you, I just happened to be going in that direction at the same time. We’re both backlines, darl, get used to the idear of having me around. And I don’t believe I’ve gotten a thank you, yet. So I’m just gonna say ‘you’re welcome’ in advance.”

“Who are you expecting a thank you from, the nice family whose building you blew up?”

“So you’re not even going to mention the what, four or five mercenary blokes what had you cornered in there? I saw you ducking in that bakery to reload. What were you gonna do in the meantime? Bash ‘em with baguettes? Sock ‘em with sourdough? Pulverize ‘em with…with…”

Mei thought for a moment, “Pumpernickel?”

“Yeah! Thanks, love.” He spat on his gloved palm, wiping away a rivulet of blood from his knee. “And again, you’re welcome, for getting those drongos off you.”

Keep reading


Justin was a white, thin, conservative racist. Your run of the mill douchebag. And he was kneeling in front of me. 

“I heard that you could…” he stuttered, “M-make me strong.”

It was amusing to see this alpha male on the ground before me. “Of course I can. You want to be hot, huh?”

“I want to be bigger. I want to be muscular like the rest of my guys,” he said. He wasn’t too bad as he was, hosting a tight sick pack and thin but muscled arms. But I could see it in his desperate gaze that he wanted something different. 

“Say no more,” I said with a wave of my hand. “Of course, there will be a price to pay.”

“Huh? Wait, I-” it was too late at this point. The changes were already beginning to take their hold as he collapsed onto the floor, his vision blurring. 

“You know, I’ve heard a lot of what you’ve had to say.”

“Wha- what are you doing to me?” He gripped his temples, the details and musculature of his face realigning into a more masculine visage. His hair grew dark, the blonde draining into black as it shortened and cropped itself closer to his face. “Nngh, uh… what’s… what’s happening… ungh…”

“You’re pretty racist,” I told him, “I’ve heard what you’ve said about some of our classmates. Maybe it’s time for you to have a change of heart.”

“H-uh…” he couldn’t stop grunting, his shorts sporting a stiff, noticeable bulge. “Stop it… please…”

“Oh but it feels so good, doesn’t it? Maybe this will make you think twice before you call someone a jap or a chink.” 

He began humping the air in front of me as his struggling voice transitioned into a prolonged moan. His eyelids shifted as his nose grew rounder at the bottom and his vision went entirely blurry. He couldn’t even see his skin take on a different hue as his thin blonde hairs receded back into his body. 

“St… op… oh yeah,” pre-cum began to wet the material of his gym shorts. “Why do I… feel so… unngh, good…”

Muttering on as he tensed and writhed on the floor, I watched the transformation move down his neck, his shy collarbones growing bolder beneath his flesh as two hefty pecs began to inflate across his chest. His nipples swelled, bigger and more sensitive, the muscles of his breast creasing and expanding until they pushed up two mounds for a set of shoulders. Then, his veins hot with some strange desire, his biceps started to tear on his skin until they emerged as two full and solid creations. Even his once slender forearms had become taut and wrapped with strength, just like his hands which transformed from girlish twigs to fat, manly things. Every part of his body exuded masculinity. A scent seemed to emerge from him, too, a musty and hot smell like shoes worn in for too long or an overused t-shirt.

“I told you there was a price,” I said, watching the transformation approach his crotch, “and part of it is what’s going to happen to your sex drive…”

Beneath a stretched set of impenetrable abs popping from stomach, his dick grew so heavy and tall it tented the whole of his shorts until it throbbed free of them and grew towards his obliques. It was so red and tense, ripped with vein, cum seemed to be fighting to get out. He moaned louder as his thighs rounded and his feet ripped free form the confines of his shoes, stinking and huge.

“All that testosterone is going to shock your systems. Might make you horny forever, depends on your control,” I looked down at him mindlessly thrusting beneath me, “but it seems you’re not too controlled, huh.”

“How did I… how…” his eyes snapped into focus as a pair of glasses materialized from nowhere upon him. His mind, so dulled by the sensations pulsing through him, couldn’t even manage to wonder how they got here. His thoughts couldn’t even take shape, fading into a lustful haze until they reemerged just faintly in some other language, “どのように私は、これは巨大な手に入れました?”

“Oh I forgot you can’t even understand me anymore…” I pulled the man, much taller than me now, to his feet so he could look in the mirror before us.

He made a shocked expression that turned to a dumb horniness as he admired his new body, staring at his new Japanese features. Justin, somewhere, was screaming in horror at his new Asian appearance but he quickly surrendered to… to… Shinji. That’s right. Just dumb and huge and horny.

I handed him a measuring tape to examine himself with. He was infatuated, obsessed with the glory of his new body. It wasn’t long before he removed his old clothes, flexed in the mirror and then turned his lust to me. I felt his body, its huge weight atop me, pinned down by the titanic masculinity on top of me. He muttered something in Japanese with gave a dumb grin and I could tell any remnants of the old Jason’s panic had turned into total, disgusting libido. That’s he had now, and all he would ever have. Just his own huge sex toy body.

crossing lines, flying blind. [2/9]

pair: jon x sansa
wordcount: 5.8k (13k total)
summary: the one where Sansa decides to take to the Appalachian Trail alone after the death of her brother Robb. somewhere down the trail, she winds up crossing paths with a far more seasoned hiker.
[part one] [social media au]

Sansa was exhausted. And irritable. And it was made even worse by the fact that none of the others seemed to be as worn out as she was.

And they were being far too nice about. Slowing down for her. Distracting themselves with stories every time she got winded and needed a break. Sometimes Gilly even pretended to struggle at the same bits of trail where she would falter.

It was infuriating.

She wanted to snap at them, tell them to leave her alone and stop trying to make her feel better. She could catch up to them later she just wished they’d let her be. And then she’d be wracked with guilt when her huff of breath would slip out of her too harshly, making Sam’s smile falter of Jon’s hand waver.

They were kind and thoughtful and she was buried under waves of inadequacy, self conscious about everything she did. Like the way Sam would always lend a hand when it was time to make camp because it still took her three times as long as everyone else to set up her tent. Or how no matter how tired she was she could never fall asleep with ease on the thin foam pad like the others could, and instead spent the night tossing and turning, longing for a real mattress without sticks and rocks and leaves crunching beneath her.

She still blushed as she made her way off the trail to relieve herself, as she dug a hole and buried her own waste, though no one else batted an eye at it. She blushed at the way she still jerked away every time a fly or a mosquito flew up at her, even though it had happened often enough she ought to have been used to it.

Keep reading

The Winter Soldiers - Part Two

Summery: In 1993 Hydra put you under Cyro freeze and after twenty four years sleeping, your past companion Bucky Barnes aka the Winter Soldier finds you and brings you out into the real world but the both of you struggle with your past as Hydra’s Winter Soldiers.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 1,298

Warnings: Violence and angst 

A/N: Part two of the Winter Soldier series. I hope you all enjoy, part one tagged below

Part One

Originally posted by niins-shalashaska

*gif creds to owner*

You woke up shaking wondering what Hydra did to you now. This time you weren’t tied up or in a room with machines hooked up to you in fact the only furniture in the small glass room was a bed which you were laying on and a chair beside the bed occupied. At a slight turn of the head you saw the man and immediately reacted.

You rolled off the bed landing in fight stance and across from the man. Soldier X stood from his chair.

“Listen,” he started moving closer, “we are not in Hydra’s base and we are no longer their experiments.”

His words flew over your head before you lunged forward pushing his strong built body to the wall pinning him with your petite frame. He tried talking again but you punch him in the mouth and his head snapped to the side. His eyes filled with anger before he shoved you back by your shoulders causing you to take a few steps backwards.

His fists were bunched up and his jaw was clenched. You expected him to come at you and beat you up like old days but he just growled, “you need to stop.”

Without hesitation you attacked again kicking his side with your leg. His fast reflexes caught your leg and he pulled it making you slam into his body. You kick your other leg up putting all your weight on Soldier X’s metal arm still holding your leg but he caught the other leg at ease resulting in you straddling him.

Anger pulsed through you as Soldier X tightened his grip keeping you pinned down. You were trapped by his biceps and his strength kept you in place not letting you go. Getting out of his grip before he uses it to his advantages was your only goal.

You ran your fingertips down his pecks throwing metal arm off guard long enough for you to push him back from his shoulders and release your legs from his grip. Kicking him backwards you sent Soldier X through the glass wall causing the both of you to fall backwards.

Getting up as fast as possible you flung yourself onto him pinning his legs with your legs and his arms with your hands. He grunted under your weight not even trying to get up. His actions confused you so you tried to read his face but it looked nothing like it usually did before he threw his final punch knocking you out. 

“Looks like I finally won Soldier X,” you spit out in venom.

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Vital: Part One - Terra (A Yondu x Reader Fic): Chapter Eleven: You Can’t Hurry Love

Click here for: Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight | Chapter Nine | Chapter Ten

Rated M for language and future NSFW chapters (these will be marked as such).

A/N Ok guys. This is what you’ve been amazingly patient and waiting for. And it only gets better from here. ;-)

“Here,” you say, tossing a pair of swim trunks at Yondu. 

He catches them. “What’s this?”

“Put those on - um, you don’t wear underwear with those. Or a shirt. They’re for swimming. We’re going in the hot tub. I mean, if you want.”

“Ya jus’ tell me where to go, darlin’.” He holds back a smirk. No underwears, huh?

You point out to a jacuzzi tub tucked in the far corner of the deck. “I’ll meet you out there in fifteen minutes, okay?”

Yondu changes, sneaking a regretful glance at his frame in the mirror. Not as young as I used to be, he sighs. His eyes dart over the numerous scars that cover him, and he shakes his head. Not anything she ain’t seen before, I guess, he thinks as his eyes travel over the scar from the shrapnel. He tosses his clothes into his bedroom and heads down the stairs and out onto the deck.

In your room, you stand over your bed where your swimsuits are laid out. You brought a few with you, in case there was a day hot enough to go in the lake, or if you wanted to go in the hot tub. Two of them are more on the modest side, but the third is a bikini. You bite your lip and run your hands over your face. Augh, what do I do? The last thing you want Yondu to think is that you’re going after him as a rebound from Devon, because that’s not what it is. You don’t know what it is that you have going on between the two of you, exactly. But you definitely almost kissed earlier. With a deep breath, you reach for the bikini.

Yondu puts his hand in the water. It’s hotter than he thought, but it’s not too uncomfortable. He decides to get in; doesn’t want to make an embarrassing show of himself trying to lower his nether regions into hot water with you watching. He eases himself into tub, hissing at first, but he soon relaxes, and starts to enjoy himself. I gotta get me one of these, he thinks with a soft sigh, leaning his head back. He almost dozes off when he hears the door slide open. He opens his eyes to see you wrapped in a towel, and you put a couple bottles of beer on a tray near his elbow. You put a bottle of wine and a couple glasses on another tray at the other side of the tub, then you turn your back to him and remove the towel.

He sits up straight. You’re barely wearing anything. From this view, he can see there’s a tie around your neck and one around the middle of your back, and then you’re wearing something that looks like brightly-colored underwear. It shows off your legs and your ass, which looks damn fine in his opinion – even moreso than usual. You fold the towel over the back of a chair and turn. Your top is more like a bra than anything else, and its pattern matches your bottoms. The cleavage it reveals is deep. The swimsuit shows more than plenty of your body, and he’s really liking what he sees.

He didn’t know what he was expecting you to wear, but this wasn’t it. He shifts in the tub, feeling the trunks he’s wearing grow a little tighter. Shit.

You fight not to meet Yondu’s stare, because you know he is staring. You climb up the into the hot tub, and he holds out a hand to help you down. You step in gingerly, easing yourself down across from him.

“Oooh, that feels nice,“ you sigh. “How are you doing?”

“M'great,” he says, trying to distract himself by opening a beer. 

“Is it too hot?”

“No, I like it. Was just thinkin’ I might have to build one of these on my ship.”

You laugh lightly, and lean your head back, resting your arms on the side of the tub.

Yondu lets his eyes trail from your navel up to your breasts, across your throat. He licks dry lips, wondering what you taste like, then frowns. If he ever gets the chance at you, he’s not going to be the first to taste that beautiful skin. He fights back a scowl. “Ya bring any a’ yer boyfriends here?” he asks, taking a swig of his beer.

You turn your head back to face him, and avert your eyes as you pour a glass of wine for yourself. “I brought Devon here once, but I don’t think he enjoyed himself - he’s not really an outdoor person.” you grow quiet, turning your glass in your hands.

“Not the adventurous type, eh?”

“No,” you reply. “Not really my type at all. Looking back, I honestly couldn’t tell you how we got together.”

“Yer better off without him, darlin’,” Yondu says, and you nod. “He didn’t take care of you. Now if you was mine-” he snaps his mouth shut and turns his face away. “Shit.”

You become still and put your glass on the table next to you. Yondu’s face is flushed, his eyes are burning.

In that moment, you realize that you’ve fallen for him for sure. This coarse, rough-edged Ravager has stolen your heart in a way that no man ever has before. He’s a risk-taker, a dreamer, a rogue and an outlaw, where you’ve played it safe all your life. He’s the adventure you’ve always craved, and yet he makes you feel protected, and more secure than any other man in your life has before. You push off your side of the tub and come to rest at his side. “If I was yours…?” you ask, breathlessly.

He turns to you in surprise, and cups your face in his hand. When he speaks, his voice is hoarse. “If you was mine, darlin’, I’d treat you right. I’d always be there for ya.”

He shivers as you tentatively slide your hands up his pectorals to circle around his neck. His mind flies back to under the willow tree, the sweet, softness of your lips against his for the briefest of moments. If he wanted you then, he’s desperate for you now.

“You want this, girl?” he murmurs. He barely waits for your nod before pulling you towards him, pressing his mouth against yours. His lips are hotter than you expected, rough and chapped, but it’s perfect. You love it. The kiss is open-mouthed; you feel the slight scrape up his teeth on your bottom lip as he moves against you. All too soon, though, you feel his mouth pull away from yours, and you open your eyes.

He runs a blue tongue slowly, sensually over his teeth. His pupils are so blown out that only a silver of ruby remains. “Mm,” he murmurs. “Damn, ya taste fine.” With a grin, he pulls you in again, tangling his hand in your hair as he slips the band out. This time, his movements are hungry and almost impatient as he kisses you. His hands wander freely over your body, calloused fingers caressing your back, squeezing your hips, your butt.  One of his massive hands fixes itself over your thigh and shifts you, so you are straddling his lap.

Pulling gently on your hair, he eases your head back to expose your neck. His fin skims your cheek as he bends his head to your collarbone, and you feel his lips graze against the skin in a soft kiss. He moves up from there, his movements teasingly light. Heat juts to your core, and you dig your nails into his shoulders as he reaches the most tender flesh of your throat. You let out a low moan of pleasure, and feel him tremble beneath you.

“Yeah, baby,” he breathes against your shoulder. You lean forward and hold him tightly, kissing his neck in return. He chuckles, but the laugh dissolves into a moan as you take his earlobe into your mouth, biting slightly. He buries his face in your neck. “I want ya,” he growls. He pulls you tighter against him, to make you feel the hardness between his legs.

You gasp and pull away. He sees in your eyes that you’re nervous, that he’s gone too far, too fast. Any other woman, he’d ignore that look and take anyway, but not you. He’s resolved not to treat you like any other woman he’s ever had; you’ve had enough jackasses in your life without adding him to the list. You’re gonna be his, but he’s gonna do this on your terms. He shifts you backwards, onto his knees. “I want ya,” he repeats with obvious difficulty, and lets out a shaking breath. “But only when yer ready.”

Relief floods your frame, and you take his face in your hands, touching your lips lightly against his. “Thank you,” you whisper.

“Any time, baby,” he says with a smug smile. He trails his fingers over your shoulder, down your arm, until they interlock with yours. His eyes dart down to your hand as he raises it. “Best get outta this tub, before them cute little fingers get all wrinkled and whatnot.”

You laugh, blushing as he brushes his lips against your knuckles, and stand. He watches the water stream down your body in rivulets. He stands also, and you almost gasp. He seems taller, somehow. More powerful. More confident.

You climb out of the tub, retrieving your towel.

As Yondu dries off, he turns, and for the first time - you don’t know how you missed it all this time - you see a long, brutal scar running from the base of his skull, where his fin ends, all the way down his spine to the small of his back. Before you can stop yourself, you’ve reached out a hand to trail your fingers down it. He stiffens fiercely at the contact, and you draw back. “I’m sorry.”

He doesn’t look at you, but his shoulders slowly release their tension. “Go ahead,” he says.

You trace the scar, and a shiver wracks his body. “What happened?” you whisper.

“Y'remember I told ya ‘bout the Kree?” he asks, turning, catching your hands in his. At your nod he continues, “Centaurians – that’s what I am - have fins. No, mine’s an implant,” he says, seeing your eyes dart up to it. “They got natural ones. Allows ‘em to guide trajectory of arrows n’ such, among other things. Well, the Kree decided it was too big a risk for me to keep mine.” His voice deepens to a snarl, and he looks over the railing, out across the water. “One day they – they jus’ dragged me outta my pen, slapped me down on a cold steel table, took a big ol’ knife, and sliced it off.” A shudder runs through him at the memory. “Was only eight or so, probably. Mebbe younger.” When he turns back to you, there are tears on your cheeks. “Aw shit, honey,” he says softly, rubbing them away with his thumbs. “It’s ok. Don’t hurt anymore. Jus’ part a’ who I am.” He turns from you again, and you run your fingers along the scar lightly. He tenses again, but doesn’t try to stop you. 

Moving in closer, you wrap your arms around his middle and rest your lips against the scar, letting them linger on his skin. His hands grasp yours, holding them firmly until you feel him raise them to his lips, kissing each finger in turn.

As you watch a movie that night, Yondu holds you against him on the couch, his fingers brushing lightly up and down along your thigh. You feel more content than you have in recent memory. 

Yondu half-watches the movie; though there’s a lot of Terran historic references that he doesn’t quite understand, he enjoys it anyway. But he enjoys you more. This is all he’s wanted for weeks: you snuggled up against him, your arms around him, turning your head to softly kiss him every once and awhile. He loves the taste of your lips, and the he can still feel the touch of your fingers against his scar. That almost turned him on more than anything, which was unexpected. The fact that you have compassion and aren’t afraid of his past, it’s something he’s never experienced in a woman before.

The movie ends. As the credits roll, he slides a hand across your shoulders, drawing you nearer, and you shift positions, tucking your leg underneath you. You lay an arm across his stomach, and lay your head against his chest, snuggling into him. Your head fits right into the hollow above his pectorals, as if it were meant to rest there. You kept your hair down, and he combs his fingers through your locks. You let out a quiet, contented sigh as he drags his nails lightly across your scalp. “Feelin’ satisfied, honey?” he asks with a small smirk.

“Almost,” you say, and turn to kiss him. He buries his hands in your hair, pulling your head further against his as he deepens the kiss. You feel him bite on your lower lip and gasp at the sharp pain. You realize he meant to make you gasp the moment he pushes his tongue inside your mouth. He tastes almost smoky - like barbecue char, not cigarettes - and there’s a hint of woody alcohol, like bourbon. You hum in pleasure and circle your tongue around his, then adjust your mouth to push your tongue past the gate of his jagged teeth. He groans, his hands moving to your waist as he clutches at you.

Your body is flushed with heat; your fingers, toes and abdomen tingle with sexual desire. As he lifts you bodily to straddle his hips and settles you down against him, you feel your panties have grown damp. The thought of intercourse with Yondu sends shiver down your spine, heat striking between your legs mercilessly. It scares you, too. You have no idea what it would be like.

He tips you back on his knees, tilting his head to the side as he goes in for your neck. “Baby,” he whispers huskily against your skin. “The things you do to me.” He tugs your shirt off one shoulder, kissing and licking the skin.

You hum in pleasure, resting your head against his. You feel the scrape of his teeth against your clavicle, and your breath quickens at the unexpected sensation. You’re just about to ask what he’s doing when he bites.

You gasp loudly, pushing away from him, but his hands clench in your shirt, holding you firm. The sharpness is gone in an instant, and his hot, slick tongue is massaging the sore spot. You feel him raise his head and lean back slightly to look him in the eyes. “Should'a warned ya, baby,” he said, licking his teeth, “I’m a biter. Hope I didn’t scare ya.”

You let out a nervous laugh. “Good thing I know you’re not a Vampire.” You crane your neck down, just barely able to see the blossoming red mark where his teeth punctured the skin. Anyone would be able to see that, unless you’re wearing a turtleneck. You blink, and turn your eyes to his. “Did you - did you mark me? Like, so someone else would be able to see it?”

You expect him to be nervous, or uncomfortable, but he’s not in the least. He almost looks proud. “Sure did, doll.”

You look down at it, and bite your lip. You can’t believe this, but you’re turned on by the sight of it. “That’s…that’s kinda hot.”

His fingers tighten at your hips, and he chuckles. “If ya like it, I will mark ya all over, baby.”

You laugh again, unable to shake that nervous tremor out of the tone. “M-maybe not everywhere.”

He lifts your shirt up slightly, just over your navel. You know that he’s seen more than that already because of the swimsuit, but this feels much more intimate. You place a hand over Yondu’s, pushing it back down.

He looks at you quizzically. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I just think we need to keep it slow, that’s all.”

In the depths of his eyes, there’s a spark of frustration. But he draws his hand away, opting to stroke the side of your face instead. “Okay, baby. Fer you, I can do that.”

Tagged: @thewildomega @pitrymcbride@shinva @overwatchemporium 

A/N: I hope that scar scene didn’t break up the sexual tension too much? I don’t know, feedback appreciated! :)

And Just Like That, Things Pick Up Again

So, if you’ve been keeping up with my posts, Thursday I had a “date” with a POT I had met once previous and who had agreed to my monthly arrangement amount. Fabulous. Wonderful. Inspired. Exciting! … Except it wasn’t. He tried to pull the old, “I give allowances at the END of the month” to which I was like, k, bye. I left, took myself out to a hotel bar in BevHills, got myself an overpriced glass of wine and smiled to myself as I wrote that post.

Fast forward to the very next day, I had an afternoon date with another POT who I’d met previously. He wanted to have lunch and sexy time at a hotel in West Hollywood. Now, after my “date” the previous night, I was apprehensive AF and ready for a fight. 

But, the hotel he picked as BEAUTIFUL. Very upscale and classy. We had an overpriced lunch in the hotel. Then went upstairs to his room and talked for like 30min before anything intimate went down. Money was never discussed. I never asked for it. But I saw the envelope on the table with my name on it and decided to pretend not to notice and instead get down to business.

Now, some girls like to check money authenticity, holding it up to the light, check it with one of those counterfeit pens, they like the envelope handed over immediately, count the money, etc. Which I get. I pulled a slightly risky move by not “checking” first. But after years of experience and all the signs from this date and our previous dinner date the week before, I knew in my gut I had nothing to worry about.

And I didn’t. He slyly slipped the envelope into my purse while I freshened up in the bathroom, walked me down to the front entrance and paid for my car valet ticket, and kissed me goodbye.

On the drive home I double checked the money. You know, we all do that. It was all there and all real. I deposited it in the bank on my way home and made a student loan payment from my car!

We hadn’t texted all weekend but this morning he sent me a few messages and made plans with me to meet him again at the end of this week. So that tells me he’s consistent and based on our encounter, trustworthy. 

Sometimes we get salt. Sometimes we get whales. And sometimes we’re somewhere in between. But the moral of this story is, there’s always another date out there. There’s always someone waiting to message you who can give you exactly what you’ve been asking for. 

Go with your gut, keep a level head, don’t drink too much!…and don’t worry if you meet a guy who disappoints you. Just look forward to the next one.

Until next time ladies!


Danny couldn’t help himself. It’s not like every day a dentist office is attacked by a ghost.

When the fight was over he went intangible, flew into the building, and found the nearest injured dentist.
The attack was terrifying, and his arm stung like crazy. Dr. Smith was wondering whether to remove the glass from the limb, when another ghost appeared.

He jumped back awkwardly, only to recognize the towns local hero. Phantom looked him dead in the eye.

“You’re bleeding because you don’t floss.” And he was gone. Smith frowned, but heard an ambulance in the distance.
I don’t even know. I just had to get it out.

Dancing in the Dark

Originally posted by frozen-delight

Based off this lovely song that I can’t stop listening to <3

He wanted to tell you how much he loved you but the time never seemed right.  Dean found that whenever he wanted to say the words he couldn’t get them to come out.  

Keep reading

The strongest drink you have - Dylan Larkin

Requested by anon: Hello👋🏼 could you write a Dylan Larkin imagine where he takes the reader to the club and the reader gets hit on and he’s super jealous??? Thanks a thousand

A/N: Hey! It isn’t exactly what you requested, but I hope you still like it!

Word count: 1124

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol. Swearing. Fighting.

Master list

Originally posted by dyllarkin

The night has started badly, but I’m determined on having a good time. It’s my best friend’s birthday tonight and I’m not going to let Dylan bring me down. Dylan and I have been dating for a year now, but we have been friends since middle school, and today he was all about picking fights with me. We have fought about pretty much everything, the car not having gas, the TV show I was watching, lunch, dinner, time in the shower and right before we were going out to celebrate.

“Oh, you are so not wearing that to a club” He stated.

“Excuse me?” I’m not the type of girl he can tell what to do… and he knows it.

“Go change. I don’t want to spend the night threatening guys because you are dressed like…”

“Like what?” I asked and he hadn’t answered.

So yeah, I’d changed… to a more revealing outfit. Dylan was mad while he drove to the club and I didn’t feel like talking so it had been a really quiet ride. But we are here now, the music is loud, my friends are here and I’m ready to have a good time.

“(y/n)!” Victoria, the birthday girl, yells at me when she sees me walking towards her, “Dylan!”

Dylan hugs her and excuses himself, going straight to the VIP booth to sit with the guys.

“What’s up with him?” my friend asks and I shake my head.

“He is on his period” and all the girls laugh.

“And you are dress to kill” my friend Lottie says and I shrug.

“He doesn’t own me, Lottie. He doesn’t get to decide for me” I respond and all of they nod.

“I’ll drink to that. For strong, independent women who do whatever the fuck they want” Victoria passes me a shot and we raise our glasses before tipping it down.

The liquor burns my throat, but I don’t care. Today it’s all about having fun and not worrying about stupid stuff. Before I know it I’m tipsy and dancing with my friends surrounded by a huge group of guys. Neither of us cares much about them, we are just doing our thing, dancing and laughing and doing really unladylike stuff.

I feel a pair of hands on my waist and I immediately know that they aren’t Dylan’s, so I turn around to see who is touching me without my permission.

“Can I help you?” I ask sassily.

He looks like an Abercrombie model, all smiles and muscles.

“Oh, you could help me with many things, darling” he whispers to me, leaning in and moving his hands to my lower back.

“Is that right?” I say, grabbing his hands and taking them off my body, “you know who is going to do many things to you if you don’t stop touching me? My boyfriend”

“He doesn’t care too much about you” he gets closer to my body again and I gag at the smell of alcohol he irradiates, “or he would be here taking care of you”

“The thing is…” my knee gets in contact with his junk and he steps away from me immediately, “he knows I can take care of myself”

He doesn’t give me another look before walking away, calling me names. I roll my eyes and turn around to my friends, who wink at me in approval, letting me know that they were ready to attack if necessary.

We go back to dancing, but I can’t shake the guy’s words from my mind and the fact that Dylan hasn’t even said a word to me the whole night makes me worry, so I walk away from the group to a place where I can see the booth. He is sitting there with the guys… and a couple girls. I’m not the jealous type, but my blood boils when I see one of the girl’s hand on his thigh and I know that I need a drink or I’ll go there and start a fight.

“What can I get you, beautiful?” the bartender asks.

“Two of the strongest thing you have” I order, looking around me.

“Rough night?” he wonders, not getting anything ready just yet.

“You can say that…”

“I’ll give you a shot of absinthe” he looks at me and I frown “you’ll thank me that I didn’t give you the second one tomorrow”

The liquor in the glass is green and smells sweet, which gives me confidence to drink it. Bottoms up. And hell explodes in my body, the liquor burning down my throat and stomach.

“Thanks for not giving me the second one” my voice raspy, “how much is it?”

“It’s on the hous…” he stops talking when someone throws a fifty dollars bill on the bar and grabs me by the arm.

“We are leaving” Dylan says, pretty much carrying me outside.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” I yell at him as soon as he puts me down.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? You have flirted with every single bartender!”

“I was ordering a fucking drink, not asking him for his number!” I’m about to lose it by now, I can’t believe he is accusing me of doing anything.

“He seemed pretty interested in what you had to say!”

“He was! Wanna know why?” I say, staring right at his eyes, “because I ordered the strongest drink they have. Wanna know why? Because this girl looked really cozy with my boyfriend!”

“You know I wouldn’t…” he defends himself.

“YES, I DO! That’s why I ordered a drink instead of going there and making a scene” I scream, tears filling my eyes.

“(y/n), I’m…” he tries to apologize.

“I trust you, Dylan. I trust you when you are gone for a week; free to do whatever you want. Why can’t you trust me?” I whisper, tears running down my face.

“It’s not you who I don’t trust… I just don’t want you to find someone else and leave me” he confesses, running his thumb down my cheek catching my tears.

“You have been the only man I’ve wanted to be since I was in eighth grade, Dylan. I’m not going anywhere…”

“I’m sorry, I’ve been an asshole to you today…” he hugs me and I bury my face on his chest.

“Can we just go home, please?” and he just nods, taking my hand and walking towards the car.

He opens the door for me and I hop in, giving him a nod when I’m ready. He walks around and gets in. His hand is quick to find mine and we link our fingers again.

“I love you, (y/n)” he says.

“I love you too… even when you are jealous bastard”

Richonne One Shots Chapter 28: School Daze, a Walking Dead FanFiction
This next one is a response to courtgirl26's request: Rick, Carl, Michonne, and Andre meet in the principal's office after Carl defends Andre against a bully and sparks fly with Rick and Michonne. Thanks for the awesome request and I hope you all enjoy!

Originally posted by lobsterlobster1990

“Carl,” Rick burst into the principal’s office, eyes roving for his son.

He found him, seated across the desk from the principal, looking completely at ease with the exception of his clearly bruised knuckles.

“Hi dad,” Carl greeted, grinning up at him.

Rick held in his sigh. “Again?” he asked. He wished he had a dollar for every time they’d ended up here. After Carl’s mother had passed, his son’s behavior had spiraled, taking out his anger at the unfairness of the world on the faces of other students.

Carl shrugged. “It’s for a good reason this time, I swear.” He tilted his head, the long hair flopping over his eyes as he gestured. Rick blinked in surprise, finally noticing the boy seated beside Carl. He was small for his age, slight and wiry, with dark skin and black rimmed glasses.

“Who’s this?” Rick asked curiously. He knew most, if not all, of Carl’s friends. He didn’t recognize this boy at all.

“I’m Dre, sir. Andre.” He spoke up, his voice surprisingly deep despite its softness.

“Nice to meet you, Dre,” Rick wondered what would possess Carl to fight this nondescript schoolmate. Carl read his mind.

“They were bullying him, dad,” Carl spoke up. “He told them to stop, they wouldn’t. I told them to stop and they wouldn’t. And there were no teachers around to help.” Carl cut his eyes accusingly at the administration.

The principal spoke up for the first time, clearing his throat. “I think we better save the boys’ version of events for when Dre’s mother arrives.”

“It’s not our version. It’s the truth.” Carl clapped back immediately. Beside him, Dre’s lips pulled up in the hint of a smile.

Rick held in another sigh. Almost without trying, he’d managed to raise a son who took it upon himself to punch injustice out of existence. He didn’t mind that about Carl in the slightest, but it had landed them here, in the principal’s office of this expensive private school on more than one occasion.

“She’ll be here soon,” Dre piped up. “She was in court.”

“His mom’s a lawyer,” Carl announced proudly. “My dad’s a cop.”

“Nice,” Dre nodded, his eyes flicking nervously to Rick for just a moment.

“Sheriff Grimes,” the principal began again. “We take these allegations very seriously. Unfortunately fighting is against the rules…”

“Dre, were you being bullied?” Rick asked the other boy forcefully.

“Yes,” Dre nodded again, seeming to fold in on himself.

“Did Carl defend you?” Rick continued his line of questioning.

“Yes,” Dre answered, slightly louder.

“So where are the bullies then?” Rick turned back to the principal, eyebrows raised.

“My question exactly,” a new voice joined the fray. All eyes on the room turned at once to the door. Rick felt the air get sucked out of his lungs.

Dre’s mother was gorgeous. No sugar-coating that. Tall, wrapped in a navy blue peacoat with long dreads pulled up into a bun, she painted an enticing picture. Her face, however, betrayed her immediate irritation.

“Well?” she prompted, sweeping into the chair beside Rick. “Where are the boys who were bullying my son?”

Rick hid his grin, catching his son’s eyes over the new arrival’s head. Carl smirked.

“They are being dealt with separately.” The principal straightened up, attempting to recover.

“And why is that?” Rick could picture this woman in court immediately. He had a sudden desire to watch her in action.

“That’s what I’m wondering,” he found his voice again. “Why are our sons in here like delinquents and the actual perpetrators are running free?”

“As I said, we will deal with the issue of bullying separately…”

“It seems like the actual issue is the bullying,” Dre’s mother did not allow the principal much room to speak. “Young man,” she turned to Carl, “Would you have hit those boys had they not been bullying Dre?”

“Nope.” Carl smiled widely at Dre’s mother.

“Then why are we here?” she swiveled back to look at the principal.

“Carl has been in fights before…” the principal tried again.

“What do his priors have to do with this?” Rick spoke up, his voice sharp.

“Agreed, Sheriff Grimes,” Dre’s mother leaned forward. “Are we punishing the boy again?”

“No…” the principal stammered.

“So you wish to persecute him for defending another student?” Dre’s mother sat up. “Dre, what were the boys taunting you about?”

“My glasses,” Dre spoke up. “And my advanced classes,” he continued. “And they were saying I’m not really black, and a sissy since dad died-”

“What?” his mother’s question snapped across the office. Rick felt a surge of anger flow through him. He understood Carl’s actions all at once.

“Carl told them to shut their mouth. They wouldn’t. One of them pushed me,” Dre gained steam. “Carl punched him.”

“Good,” Rick resolved at that moment to take Carl out for ice cream. “I hope you hit him hard,” he told his son.

“I did,” Carl brandished his bruised knuckles like a badge of honor.

“Sheriff Grimes, honestly, I don’t think we should encourage this type of behavior.”

“I’ll encourage my son to punch racist bullies as often as possible,” Rick felt his temper flare.

To his right, Dre’s mother smiled saccharinely, “I would think that the school would want to defend one of its students. Especially one who’s both a model student and promising track star.”

“Looks like they don’t care,” Rick was building up steam now, bolstered by her energy. “Maybe this isn’t the kind of school I want my son in.”

“Now, Sheriff Grimes,” the principal began.

“Nor my son,” Dre’s mother straightened up, reaching for her purse. “In fact, I think other parents ought to know this school’s real values, don’t you?”

“Agreed,” Rick reached for his hat, preparing to put it back on.

“There’s no need for that,” the principal interjected quickly.

“I think there’s a very great need,” Dre’s mother disagreed serenely. “After all, a boy who defended another from a bully is being punished while the bullies run free. Odd, no?” she fixed her wide brown eyes on Rick.

“Wrong, more like it.” He stood up, seizing Carl gently by the elbow. “C'mon Carl.”

Carl quickly got to his feet. Dre imitated him.

“We haven’t discussed the situation,” the principal protested weakly.

“I think it’s best we go the legal route with this issue,” Dre’s mother said. “Sheriff Grimes, could we confer later?”

“I’m free when you are,” Rick would make time for her.

“I don’t think that’s necessary,” the principal was on his feet in a heartbeat. “I will talk to the students responsible. I’m sorry for wasting your time Ms. DuBois, Sheriff Grimes.”

“Mmm,” the dark-skinned woman tilted her chin, sweeping towards the door. Rick rushed to open it for her.

Carl and Dre hurried out after their parents. Rick paused in the hall, his eyes on the posh woman standing across from him.

“Maybe we can go have that talk now,” he offered, conscious of his son smirking at his elbow.

“I think the boys earned an afternoon off,” Ms. DuBois agreed, smiling at Carl and Dre. “Thank you, for defending Dre.”

“No problem,” Carl bounced on the balls of his feet. “Dre helps me out in math. Least I could do.”

Rick patted his son on the back encouragingly. “I’m in the mood for ice cream.” He looked questioning at Dre’s mother.

“I could use some dessert,” she smiled back. “My treat?”

“I asked, I’ll pay,” Rick protested. Carl scoffed knowingly beside him. He shot Dre a pointed look.

“We’ll be by your truck, dad,” he lead Dre off, the boys whispering conspiratorially. Dre threw a look over his shoulder, giving Rick a thumbs up before disappearing through the school doors.

Rick turned back to the stunning woman in front of him. She was regarding him coolly, as though she was making her mind up about him.

“I’ll pay this time,” she began, “And you can pay for dinner next time.”

“Dinner?” it took Rick a moment to catch on. She grinned in amusement, her eyes dancing to his naked ring finger. His eyes whipped to her own bare left hand. “Right, dinner,” he straightened up, willing the blush to creep out of his cheeks. “What time should I pick you up, Ms. DuBois?”

“Michonne,” she corrected, shaking his hand. “And Friday at 7, Sheriff Grimes?”

“Rick,” he gripped her slender fingers, unable to stop the smile on his face. “And that sounds perfect to me.”

“It’s a date then,” she smiled, then swept off after their children, Rick hot on her heels.