(bc I need to make up for the langst I posted last night so here’s so comfort and a little bit of hurt. This is just Shiro’s, the other ones will be up soon. The only warning is a depiction of a panic attack.)
1. Lance winced as Shiro cut into him with words like he was expertly wielding Keith’s bayard. He would’ve found it funny how dad-like he was being, except: a) probably would cause Shiro to bail him out more, and b) it wasn’t very funny at all.
“Don’t you see how childish you’re being! This isn’t just serious, this is a matter of life or death, and your antics cannot get in the way. At the end of the day, do you want to be responsible for someone’s death?” The question sent a wave of nausea through Lance, and he was almost pulled off his feet by a wave of static that clouded his mind as something inside his chest burst. He grabbed his chest in alarm. His breathing was quickening. His chest was on fire. Oh god. Oh god. He curled inwards. Trying to protect himself.
“…” He tried to speak but no words came out, just harsh breaths as he lent against the wall, staring upwards through tears at Shiro who was frozen in fear.
“…Lance? Oh. Um… fuck.” If Lance was in any state of mind, he would have never let Shiro go for swearing in front of him, but as it was, it made Lance’s breath speed up. Shiro approached him like he would a possible hostile alien, slowly and with his hands outstretched. “Okay, Lance, if you can, put your arms around me and follow my breaths. Is that okay?” His voice was low and non-threatening, and in response Lance nodded slowly. His hands shaking as Shiro sat next to him, putting his hand on Lance’s arm. Shiro started taking audible, slow breaths. Lance winced as this effort made his breathing uneven, alternating from barely controlled slow breaths to shaky shallow ones.
“Thanks.” He choked out. Shiro shook his head.
“Don’t talk, just focus on the breathing.” Lance had enough humour to roll his eyes at him, and melodramatically breathed in and breathed out, causing Shiro to laugh, before his smile melted into a concerned frown. “I’m so sorry Lance.”
“Don’t be. You’re right, of course.” Lance looked down, not willing to meet Shiro’s eyes.
“Just because you were goofing off doesn’t mean I should have said that. It was way out of line. I just –” Shiro trailed off.
“I’m scared too.” Lance responded quietly. “I know. I know that this is a life-or-death thing, but I just can’t think about it. I’m not like you, or Keith, or Allura. I have to distract myself. If I think about for one second someone else dying on my account I just –” Lance’s breath started to quicken again, and Shiro stopped him, beginning the audible intakes and exhales of breath once more. Lance found his voice again. “You’re good at that. Unsurprisingly.”
“Well, thank Coran actually.” Shiro smiled as Lance scoffed. “No really, apparently they’re quite common for Alteans as well as humans. I still get them occasionally, but they were really bad when, you know…” Shiro trailed off before gathering his thoughts once more. “Listen. Are you alright?”
Lance laughed nervously.
“Yeah, of course buddy, don’t worry about it.” He patted Shiro’s arm, got up from the ground and started to walk away when he felt Shiro’s metal arm on his shoulder.
“Really. We all deal with trauma differently, and I’m worried. These coping mechanisms are all fine and good until they start hurting you and other people.” Shiro was staring down at him and Lance shrunk under his worry. Of course Shiro was worried about the others.
“I’m really sorry I’ve been a pain.” He laughed, rubbing the back of his head in a mockery of sheepishness. “I’ve been distracted but don’t worry, to quote our lord Efron, I’ll get my head in the game.” Shiro’s frown did not disappear. “Seriously, dude, don’t worry.” Lance smiled.
“Just, if you need to talk, please do. Whatever problems you have are important, not just for the team’s performance, but for your health as well. Okay? And if you can’t talk to me, talk to Hunk, or Pidge, or even Keith.” Shiro insisted, gesturing emphatically as Lance rolled his eyes. “Please.”
Lance’s face softened, his mask melting away.
“I’m just so scared. What if I never see my family again?” His already tear-filled eyes began brimming once more. “And I’m so scared that I’ll mess up everything, I mean, how the hell can I compare to you guys? Keith’s an amazing combatant, Coran and Allura are the best at strategies, you’re a great leader, Hunk’s an awesome engineer, and Pidge is just a genius!” Shiro stared at Lance as tears spilled down his cheeks.
“I’m so sorry I didn’t notice.” He pulled his hands over his face. “God, and I’m supposed to be the leader.” Shiro straightened up, looking at Lance. “I can’t express how sorry I am. I forget, I suppose, that you’re children. But know we’re all terrified; and know that we couldn’t do it without you. Because your joking does help, Lance, it breaks the mood and reminds us why we’re fighting - for our humanity. You’re important.”
Lance stood in shock. He wiped the tears off his face.
“Gosh Shiro, you’re such an old man!” He started laughing.
Shiro crossed his arms and stared at Lance. His frown didn’t reach his eyes.
“Come on you youngin, we’ve got training to do.” He walked out of the room, shaking his head. Lance smiled. Maybe things were alright, even if he was just saying it to pacify him. Still. It counted.
(Hilly knows a couple things as a tadpole. He knows there’s probably a lax
bro hitting on him, and that Bitty’s super-secret boyfriend may or may not be a
middle-age lumberjack sugar daddy.)
Hilly knows a few things about Samwell’s hockey dynamics. He knows he is a
tadpole; he initially expects to be hazed to the ground and forced to eat dog
food or something like his roommate, who is currently rushing a frat. He
expects the Haus to be dirty and filled to the brim with red cups and sticky
floorboards. He also knows not to hang out with the lax team because Ransom and
Holster said so, even though a cute boy who he thinks is from the lax team
winked at him in his Intro to Anthropology class. He knows that NHL’s very own
Jack Zimmermann, son of ‘Bad Bob’ Zimmermann and legendary hockey extraordinaire,
is a Samwell alumni, and had slept in the very room which Chowder, their
goalie, currently inhabits.
But Hazeapalooza turns out to be nothing as bad as he expects (he even gets
homemade pie out of it, even if Holster gives him the side-eye). And the Haus
is cleaner than a sports frat house should be. The hockey team is nice (and surprisingly
socially aware) and Hilly likes Samwell fair enough, but he misses home
But Bitty makes things better. Hilly likes Bitty a lot. He likes hanging around
the Haus and watching Bitty roll pastry dough with a practiced, methodical hand
because it reminds him of how his mom used to bake cookies for him and his
sister. Bitty doesn’t mind too much (he thinks) that Hilly may want to go on a
date with a lax bro. Bitty bakes him peach cobbler with crumbles toasted a
golden brown and talks about his family’s jam recipes. Bitty is open and warm
and welcoming. However, the one thing Bitty doesn’t talk much about is his
Summary: Reader gets all worked up watching Dean in action.
Word Count: 1984
Warnings: Language/Rough-ish sex
As always,feedback is welcome and appreciated.Just a reminder - I’ve started a new tag list, so if you don’t want to miss out on any future fics, be sure to add yourself here:Nichelle’s Forever Tag List
There is something about watching Dean slam someone against a wall that gets me all hot and bothered. The way his jaw clenches and his forearms flex, goddamn, it’s thrilling. If a gun is involved, that’s it, I’m done for. The way that man handles a weapon is nothing short of pornographic. And when his voice gets all deep and gravelly and he just takes fucking command of the situation? It gives a girl all sorts of nasty ideas.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not slipping on the job. When it’s time to fight, I’m focused. I’m present. I’m a force to be reckoned with. But when he’s shaking down someone for info, I take the time to relish Dean in action. I can feel the dampness between my thighs, the slight hitch in my breath when he takes control like that.
God, I want him so bad right now.
Back in the car, we wait for Sam to finish up doing whatever Sam-things he’s doing. Dean taps the steering wheel idly with his finger. I lean over the back seat and slide my arms down his chest.
“Baby, I’m so turned on right now,” I whisper in his ear. “Watching you rough that guy up, it’s so fucking sexy.” I slide one hand down over his stomach, to where his jeans are tenting. Looks like the feeling is mutual.
Dean lets out a rough groan of pleasure as a palm him through his jeans. I nibble on his ear lobe as he pushes his hips up to grind against my hand. I can’t wait to get him alone.
A scuffling sound alerts us to Sam’s approach. I slip back into my seat while Dean hastily rearranges himself before Sam opens the passenger door.
“So get this…” Sam says as he clambers into the seat. Good old Sam, oblivious as always to what’s going on between Dean and me.
A/N: Omg you guys are gonna hate me! *cries hysterically* This was so hard to write because of major feels, but i promise it’ll get better! Borky is a good dude ok and he will make it all better lol. I hope y’all like it! Enjoy! - Delilah
Warnings: Swearing. Angst. Major feels.
You stared down at the little white hospital gown that you wore, all while wondering how on earth you could be so stupid.
They kept telling you that it wasn’t your fault. That the blame should be placed on Bucky for being irresponsible, but you were having none of that. It takes two to tango. You agreed to lay with him, so now you both were responsible for what came after.
You could feel the tears pooling in your eyes. You were nowhere near ready for the consequences. The only thing you knew about motherhood was that it took extreme patience and unconditional love. You were capable of those things, but not at this moment.
“I remember being exactly where you are.” The doctor spoke softly, her hand landing on yours and giving it a comforting squeeze.
You peered up at the woman. She looked only a little older than you, around her early thirties. Your eyes traveled to the small name tag on her coat. Elisa was her name.
“I was barely twenty when I found out I was carrying my baby boy.” She said as she prepared to draw your blood.
“Were you afraid?” You ask, peering up at her. She gave you a small smile. Her brown eyes instantly filled you with comfort.
“I was terrified! We were terrified. My boyfriend at the time, he wasn’t really one for kids.” Immediately you realized where she was getting at.
“Did he stay?” You could see her smile fade as she retracted the needle from your vein and placed a small little band aid over it. You mentally scold yourself. That was way out of line.
“He stops by every now and then,” she replied. “Mr. Quill was known for being a ladies man and all, but when Jake was born he…sort of boarded the reality train.”
You nodded, but your mind was elsewhere.
Bucky was a good man from what you’ve heard from Steve. From what you experienced in your room a few hours ago, he was completely different than all the other alphas. He made sure you were taken care of before anything else.
He even did the thing.
You still blushed when you thought about it!
He put all his pride to the side and denied his nature by pleasuring you orally. Alphas were NOT supposed to do that by any means and he knew that. But at the time, giving you relief was more than important to him and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t interested in him.
He was what people liked to call “bonding material”. For once, you could agree on that.
Bucky Barnes was very attractive. He was built like a Greek god and could um…mate like one, too. He was strong, not only physically, but emotionally as well -this was a big deal for lower ranking people such as yourself. The way he held you and praised you during sex literally brought tears of joy to your eyes and you were so overwhelmed at first.
But what was most important was that your instincts were completely in sync with his.
It was almost as if he knew exactly what you were thinking when you had sex. He read you so well, that you felt you didn’t have to hide yourself any longer and that filled you with relief at the time. You weren’t shy like usual, but confident.
Maybe…Bucky could be an excellent father as well.
You’ve never seen him interact with children. You couldn’t have asked him earlier because his face was between your thighs for a solid thirty minutes and the rest of the time, he screwed your beyond comprehension. So, you’d have to ask Steve at some point.
When Elisa finished tidying up her station, she paused. Her eyes traveled over to you, a knowing smile on her face.
“You know, Y/N,” she spoke, taking a seat next to you. You kept your gaze on your lap. “I’ve seen a lot of cases throughout my career. And I’ve seen a lot of couples. I can usually spot the ones who aren’t exactly maternal. But you, I can see it. If you are pregnant, you’re going to be an amazing mother.”
Your eyes widened with surprise. Overwhelmed with emotion, you felt the tears fall. You wiped them away with your hand quickly. You felt the warmness of Elisa’s hand on your shoulder.
“What I’m trying to say is, out of all the dad-to-be’s I’ve seen, I’ve never seen a more capable one then Barnes.”
Now that took you by surprise, but also comforted you to no end. Bucky had it in him, maybe, but did you?
Pepper’s screams could be heard by the entire team as she chased Bucky through her office.
“I can explain, just please calm do-OW! Did you just staple me!?”
The sounds of chairs being thrown against the walls followed suit, along with Bucky’s screams of terror. He didn’t even get three words in before she started throwing any and every inanimate object at him, including her cell phone, purse, keys and high heels (which hit Bucky directly in the face).
There was absolutely no way in hell he’d get her to listen to him. At least without getting a couple security guards in here. And to make it worse, Steve flat out refused to intervene.
But as bad as Pepper was, Tony was really who he should be concerned about. The man was on a mission at the moment and would be returning later on that night. Meaning, he’d be:
Experiencing coffee withdraws
All a giant recipe for homicidal tendencies, which Bucky really wanted to steer clear of. Tony was going to kill him. That or take Y/N far, far away from him.
“I trusted you!” Pepper shrieked as she launched a tape dispenser at him, only for him to catch it mid air and put it on the table in front of him. She had such good aim, too.
“It wasn’t intentional by any means!” Bucky exclaimed. He immediately circled around the desk between the two of them as Pepper tried to catch him. Jesus, how did Tony put up with this? Betas were insane.
Feeling the fatigue at full force, Pepper let out a sigh of defeat and plopped into her chair. Her blue eyes were tired, dark circles were beginning to form under her eyes.
Bucky felt so guilty.
“Have you talked to her?” She asked, her voice low.
“Not yet.” He replied, taking a seat in one of the chairs across from her. The only one still in one piece. She glared over at him, her eyebrow twitching in annoyance. “But I plan to.”
“Well you better swallow that guilt and deal with it, Barnes,” she dropped her gaze to her lap and swallowed loudly. “Because she’s your biggest priority now.”
It wasn’t what she said that bothered him, it was the context. She didn’t insinuate the possible life growing inside you or anything, only that you as a person were his responsibility. Did she know about the bonding?
Speaking of that, Bucky couldn’t feel it.
By it, he meant you. When two people bond, it’s an extremely emotional experience. One that he’d never really felt before. You gave him a bond mark, but he didn’t return it. Meaning, they hadn’t technically bonded fully.
But if you were pregnant, he’d like to. Only with your permission of course.
With a sigh, Bucky rested his head in his hands.
What was he going to do with you?
The results wouldn’t be ready for a few more minutes, leaving you to wait in solitude. That meant you were to wait in the shiny white room without any company, which you desperately needed right now.
As much as you were used to being alone, you hated the silence. Your thoughts ran throughout your head rapidly, making up the most inane scenarios. You really, really wanted to talk to Pepper right now. She always knew what to do in these situations. Or better, you wished you could just completely rewind these last two days and be in the comfort of your lab, working on your latest tech.
You nearly jumped out of your seat at Bucky’s voice. When did he even get there? Those damn super soldiers.
“When did you even get here? You scared me!” You placed a hand on your stomach as you spoke. You hated being scared. His eyes instantly traveled to your tummy, eyeing it warily. You instantly pulled your hand away.
“Are you…” he trailed off. He looked so calm.
“W-Well the tests haven’t come back yet!” You assured him. The way he was staring at you made your cheeks fill with red.
Bucky nodded, giving you a small reassuring smile. He made his way over to you and sat on the seat beside yours. You hadn’t been this close since you were in heat and now, you could feel the faint arousal between your legs. Jesus! You were about to find out if you were with child, why did your body have react this way?
“Listen Bucky, you don’t have to stay. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself-”
“Y/N,” he interrupted, his eyes looked even bluer now that you weren’t drunk with your heat. Man, he was gorgeous. “I’m not leaving you. Especially not in this circumstance.”
“I know we literally just met a couple days ago,” he chuckled softly. You desperately wanted to hear it again. “But I’m just as responsible as you are. We’ll take care of this together, okay?”
Without thinking, your hand found its way onto his cheek. He leaned into your touch. You could feel the anxiety and the worry fade away. For the first time in your life, you felt secure.
The sound of someone clearing their throat caused the two of you to jump and separate. You smiled at Elisa, who eyed the two of you knowingly. Her gaze traveled to your stomach briefly before looking away.
She gave you both a warm smile, but you could sense something behind it. What was going on?
“Congratulations, you two.” she handed you the test. Immediately Bucky snatched the results from you and his eyes scanned the paper. You looked at his eyes, only see them widen. What was wrong?
You looked back at Elisa, who avoided your eyes at all costs. “What’s wrong?” You asked, feeling your heart race.
Bucky dropped the paper, his eyes staring down at the floor. Now you were extremely worried.
“Y/N,” she said softly. “I’m so sorry.”
You snatched the paper from the ground and held it up to your face. In fine print, you saw the following words:
‘Delta Sterilization surgery, as ordered by Mr. Y/L/N.”
“What the fuck is this?” You cried. The only person who could’ve done this was…no, he wouldn’t do that to you. He wasn’t that kind of man.
“I’m afraid before your father passed away,“ she explained. "He arrainged for all of your pregnancies to be terminated and for your immediate sterilization if you were to become impregnanted by any circumstances.”
Summary: AU. When a major account is on the line at work,
reader is forced to revisit some old connections at her ten year high
school reunion for a chance at success. Will she let the past consume
her, or will she see the future in her grasp?
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader
Word Count: 3,144 (minus the flashback)
language!!, fluff, mentions of past cheating, confrontation, crying
Tags are closed. I wrote this so quickly because I got super motivated by all your messages. I think the angst is winding down. This is a turning point for reader, and I’m excited for her. Also, Bucky’s got a lotta ‘splainin’ to do!
Warnings: Smut, pure 100% smut!! That’s all. Pussy eating, fingering, normal sex. Professor!Sam.
Word Count: 809
Summary: Professor Sam takes Y/n on his desk.
A/N: Ok, request from @carbonated-beverage-Could you write some smutty Professor!Sam or Stripper!Sam?? Or if possible a teen wolf/supernatural crossover that has Sam x Issac x Reader smut?? Went for Professor!Sam….just cos. It’s a bit short, hope u don’t mind!!! So, here it is. Hope u like it!
You couldn’t believe what you were seeing from your upstairs window. There it was, all shiny and still in the best shape possible for her age. His beloved impala parked on the curb, the tall, bowlegged man headed towards your door. Your heart was racing. You and Dean Winchester had not parted on good terms. In fact, you stated you never wanted to see him ever again, amongst a string of curse words. You desperately wished that he would have stayed away.
It took you six years to get over Dean Winchester. Six long years of misery after he stated that he didn’t have the same feelings towards you, that you were just a convenient lay for him when he was staying in town. Dean didn’t break your heart, he shattered it and kicked it into the dirt like it was something replaceable. Now here he was, headed towards your doorstep.
You were hyperventilating. You couldn’t handle this, you couldn’t handle seeing his face again. You knew yourself, you would give into him, you would forgive him and let him back into your life knowing he was going to stomp over your heart once more. Girls like you didn’t matter to him.
The doorbell rang and your body stayed stagnant. You willed yourself to stay put, to not give into him, to not set yourself up for another six years of heartache. The loud sound of banging filled your ears next. They were consistent and needy almost. Damn it Y/N.
Before you could even register what you were doing, you were standing in front of the door. You were going to be strong about this. You were going to state your ground, you were going to be stern. You were going to be the badass Y/N that you deep down craved to be.
You unlocked the door, swinging it open. Dean was standing there, both hands on the doorway. He looked up at you, the tip of his tongue peaking out past his lips. He looked much older than when you had last seen him. He was darker; rougher.
“Hi Y/N,” he said casually. You were half ready to slam the door in his face, and maybe that’s what you should have done.
“What do you want, Dean?” you asked coldly, your arms crossing over your body in defence.
“I miss you,” he breathed out, almost inaudibly. You were tempted to roll your eyes.
“Congratulations?” you chuckled.
“Guess I deserved that one,” he stated. “I know we left things on a very bad note, but I did what I had to. I had to leave and I had to be sure that you would’t follow, that you wouldn’t call, that you wouldn’t search high and dry trying to find me. But believe me when I say that walking away from you was the hardest thing I’ve had to do,” he paused, taking a deep breath, composing himself. He stood up straight, shoving his hands in his front pockets. “I lied when I told you that I didn’t love you. Fuck, you were the best part of my life and that time we did spend together was damn near perfect. I know I screwed up, big time! But I wanted to let you know that I still love you, god I love you more than I’ll ever be able to tell you. I know I don’t deserve a second chance, but I can’t live with myself without knowing I at least tried to win you back.”
“I want to know everything,” you demanded. You were proud of yourself. Your voice was loud and stern, it never wavered or sounded weak. You weren’t going to go easy on him. Not after what he put you through. “No more secrets, no more lies. I want to know it all, Dean.”
“I will tell you everything,” he smiled weakly.
“Come in,” you said calmly. “And put your tongue away. You’re not going to win me back by trying to be cute.”
“Oh sweetheart, we both know you think I’m adorable.”
Summary: People always told you that loving someone can hurt just as much as it can heal. You never believed it. And then you met Dean Winchester…
Characters: Dean Winchester x reader, Haley (OFC, briefly), John Winchester, Sam Winchester (mentioned), Bobby Singer (briefly)
Word count: 5621 (I know, I know. But I hope it’s worth it…)
Warnings: Fluff. Angst. Very light smut. Some language. Mentions of abduction, blood, tortures and death (nothing graphic).
Author’s Notes: This is my submission for @frickfracklesackles 1000 follower celebration challenge. Natalie, congratulations on your incredible milestone and thank you for letting me participate and for being so patient with me, I had a great time planning this fic.
Special thank you to my amazing twin @ravengirl94 for helping me figure out plenty of things about this.
Now about the story: My trope was “feisty strangers to lovers”. The storyline starts two years before season 1 (when Dean is 24 years old and the reader 22) and it follows the timeline of the show through flashbacks that are included in italics. The entire fic is loosely based on Ed Sheeran’s Photograph (I am so in love with this song tbh)
I hope you all enjoy this just as much as I enjoyed writing it <3
photo albums were scattered around the floor, old photographs thrown here and
there, creased and torn and faded. Empty whiskey bottles littered the corners
of the dark room and fast-food wrappers stained the carpet but you didn’t care.
Dean would have minded.
it was again, that annoying little voice in the back of your mind that wouldn’t shut up. You could hear it
every time you drank a little too much, every time you got a little too
reckless, every time a guy tried to flirt with you, not knowing that it was
pointless because your heart belonged to someone else already.
of the times you were able to shake it off, tune the voice out, and reach for
another bottle of Jack Daniels but today that was physically impossible. The
hunt had drained all the energy you had left and the memories of Dean were far too
many and far too painful to just go away.
• seeing that he was in a wholly, different, weird, alienic world than his
• “I demand you to show me this fortress of yours now.”
• Not only he is not freaking out; he has a smug look on
• “Excuse me?”
• “Is my orders that difficult to grasp you insolent woman?”
• “No, I meant why in hell should I even show you every corner of my house!” You snapped back
• “What, you dare defy my orders?”
• You groaned
• well you should show him who’s the big shot or that big head of his is going to get bigger
• “Yes, so?”
• Nobunaga widened his eyes.
• Did she, a lowly misbehaved insolent idiotic woman just spoke back at him?
• “Now, Mister Oda Nobunaga, three things you should know is-” You cleared your throat “First, I am the person who brought you in after you crashed on my roof so you have no right in hell to get rude at me. Second, you shall not call me INSOLENT. Third, I am the boss here and I make the rules. You overcross them, out. UNDERSTOOD?”
• Okay maybe he’d underestimated the people in this world.
• they sure had a short fused temper.
• Well he would go along for this once
• plainly because he isn’t familiar with this place.
• When he is
• You are going to get it from him.
• “So” you handed a broom, a mop and a bucket to him and he looked at you, puzzled.
• “Why are you giving me this-”
• “Did you expect me to clean the mess you made?” You gestured at the pile of debris from the broken roof.
• He glared at you
• “Woman, do you even know who I a-”
• “Oda Nobunaga, yes. So go clean up.”
• He stared at you
• and you gave him the finger before strutting away to your room in all your glory
• leaving him with a mop
• a broom
• a bucket
• a pile of debris
• and a raging feel to strangle you on sight.
• Forget about the whole get-it-from-him part
• he is going to kill you
• “What is this?”
• “Uh… a toaster?”
• He looked at you quizzically, finger still pointing at the recently identified object known as toaster.
• “What is it used for…?”
• “Uh…” you pondered “…for toasting bread..?”
• The question mime
isn’t finished yet, though.
• “…may I ask how to operate it-”
• Thought you’d never ask… you smirked to yourself.
• You eagerly grabbed two slices of bread and showed him how to use the toaster
• “See… when you hear a ‘ding’, it means the bread is already uh…. suitable for eating.”
• “Really? But…” He pointed at the pieces of brownish deliciously looking toast. “…they don’t look edible to me…”
• “Huh?” You looked at him mouth gaping and he gave you a apologetic look
• “It has…. quite a unpleasant colour… Mmph-!”
• You stuffed a slice of the ‘unpleasantly coloured’ bread into his mouth before he even get to finish his sentence and he gave you a look of shell shocked hesitation. You cheshire grinned up at him
• “Don’t knock it until you try it~~~”
• You winked at him playfully, and with a sigh
• he bit into the crunchy brownish roasted grain and
• You thought to yourself
• this is the first time you saw a person, a real one, looking so… sparkly eyed by eating a toasted piece of plain bread
• His eyes could outshone a billion stars and power up every solar panel in Japan with their blinding realization of the taste of
• the legendary toast
• That’s gotta be it
• “May I… have another piece?” He shyly (not shyly) raised his empty but crumb-filled hand in eagerness and embarrassment.
• You smiled at him and grabbed a loaf off the dining table
• “Sure!” You squeaked and he smiled back
• Moral value of the story
• no one could ever resist toast
• not even the legendary perfect af Mitsuhide.
• *evil cackle*
• You deadpanned
• “Yukimura… for God’s sake please stop staring at those girls they’d probably think you are a pervert-”
• “Bu-but… they… woman… dressed… legs…. GAH!!!!!” He shrieked hyper high pitched after blubbering a mess of jumbled words into a full (or maybe half) sentence to you, face redder than chillies
• You sighed
• maybe it was a bad idea bringing him with you
• But you just wanted to buy some clothes for him at the nearest shopping centre - he couldn’t go full on cosplay 24/7, absolutely no
• he did said that…
*30 minutes ago*
• “I REFUSE TO LET A WOMAN WANDER ON THE STREETS ALONE AT NIGHT!!!!! As a man, it is my responsibility to protect you!”
• “But- ”
• “I won’t hear any of this! I’ll just tag along and you do your thing!” Yukimura straightened his back confidently
• …just like that
• but now you are not that certain who is the protector
• Who would know that Yukimura would be so terrified of women in skimpy miniskirts?
• “W-why do they… wear so… thin…”
• You looked at Yukimura who is turning pale-ish with scarlet tints to the ears
• …looks like you gotta get him outta here or the poor boy is going to combust
• “Yukimura, come here” You tugged on his arm forcefully, intending to lead him to a nearby department
• You looked back at him, a huge question mark forming on your head
• “I- I can walk on my.. own…” Yukimura said, face darkened into a more prominent shade of scarlet than you thought possible, prying his arm away from yours and walked awkwardly towards a store.
• He almost jumped at the mention of his name
• “The clothing department’s this way”
• “O-oh… ok.”
• You almost laughed but you pinched yourself to hide it
• what a flustered cinnamon he is
• “….little lady…”
• “What is it Saizo” you called out, hands fumbling over some stray pins and rubber bands on your hair
• “Your device is singing”
• Saizo spoke, monotone as always
• “Just ignore it” You said, holding a pin with your mouth due to your already full hands “-oh wait, can you tell me the words on my phone?”
• Saizo glanced at the black device that had just sprinted bright with life and music “Mom.”
• “Ogh mom..” You mumbled, hairpin still between your teeth when it dawned on you
• “WAIT MOM?!!!”
• There was a violent thud, some crashing
• “GIVE IT TO ME! QUICK!! FAST!!!”
• You sprinted towards Saizo, grabbed the phone from his hands and received the call
• “Hello? Mom??” you tucked a hand in your disheveled hair
• Saizo looked at you indifferently, watching your face gradually becoming pale
• “NO….! MOM NO…! Don’t come please I am not ready how many times had I told you I DONT HAVE A BOYFRIEND IT IS TRUE THAN THE FACT YOU ARE MY MOTHER”
• well Saizo had a hunch that things are going to be entertaining in a sense
• “MOM…! NO-” you paused your yelling, and stared in disbelief at your phone
• She had hung up on you
• she is coming
• right now
• You looked at Saizo
• “MY MOM IS COMING PLEASE SAIZO DO ME A FAVOR AND PLEASE HIDE ITS A EMERGENCY HELP ME PLEASE!!!”
• as expected, Saizo merely shrugged
• “Why should I?”
• You groaned
• “Please…. HELP… or if she sees you you and me are going to die”
• He raised a eyebrow, clearly amused “and why is that?”
• You almost pulled out your hair
• “Saizo, I AM SERIOUS. If she sees you… then… you are going to…”
• “become… my… boyfriend… or let’s just say… fiance… because my mom came to keep an eye on me and… she is kinda… anxious in marrying me to any guy…”
• Now it was his turn to look at you
• “EXACTLY, SO PLEASE COOPERATE WITH ME AND SAVE OUR ASSES” You cried out
• “I don’t-” Saizo’s speech was interrupted by a roar that suspiciously sounded like a engine from your lawn and you spotted a suspiciously familiar looking car just outside….
• “I DONT CARE ANYMORE YOU ARE GOING WITH ME!” you screamed, grabbed his hand
• pushed him in a closet, and locked it
• The door popped open and out came your mom
• “DARLINGGGG how are you lately!!!”
•You sweatdropped at the sight of her imposing image and Saizo’s attempts to get out of the locked closet
• “Uh… just fine mom!” you piped up when you hear a loud thump from the closet behind you
Anon: Hey can you do one where the reader is Lucifer’s little sister , the youngest archangel and she and Lucifer are constantly fighting for Sam’s attention , she likes Sam and Lucifer wants to just already use Sam as a vessel . Anon: Can u write a fanfic about Lucifer’s little sister , she has a crush on Sam and she ain’t afraid to show it , she is very sarcastic and has an enormous amount of sass like her brother , and she and Lucifer are always fighting for Sam’s attention . Can u make it funny
So, I got two anon asks for basically the same thing, so I did them both in the same story. I hope you guys like it! Like always, feel free to message/ask me with critiques and comments!
Summary: You, the archangel sister of Lucifer with a similar attitude, has a crush on Sam Winchester. You decide to visit during the aftermath of the Cage (Season 7)
“Oh, sure,” you mutter for the upteenth time in eternity. “You get all the fun stuff of messing around with Sam’s head and what do I get?”
“Here we go again…” Lucifer rolls his eyes.
You gesture to your surrounding environment with both arms. “The Cage! Full of wonderful attractions galore! And over in this corner we have a giant piece of metal connected to another piece of metal! And in the other corner, more metal, trapping me with the biggest idiot of a brother for all eternity!” Some days weren’t that bad in Hell, but most of the time, you’d go off on sarcastic rants for hours. It wasn’t the worst boredom coping strategy, but it drove your archangel brother insane.
“Would you let it go already?”
“NO! I’m not letting this go! YOU’RE the main reason that we’re stuck here in the first place!! You just had to go and possess the one person who had even a chance of resisting you! Never mind that you had a perfectly good vessel you were already using-”
“Who was burning to death-”
“Who wouldn’t have tossed us in here!”
“Oh, don’t give me that crap. This is just like back at the wack-house.”
You raise your eyebrows. “You wanna go there? Really?”
“I’m not the one who kept trying to get Sam to play spin the bottle.”
You try to keep your face from turning red in your shared prison. “Oh, like you were any better. Streamers and pinatas?”
You stroll up into the pale mental hospital room to the bedside of your favorite human: Sam Winchester. Sure, you were a pretty pissy archangel like your brother, but something about the Winchester boy made you feel more than indifference towards a vessel.
“Hey, Sam. Wake up,” you whisper. He stirs in his restless sleep a little. You glance around the room. “Lucifer’s on his way. I don’t know how long until he’ll come, but be prepared. There’s some serious crap he’s throwing your way today.”
“And you know this…how?” Sam mumbles tiredly.
You scoff. “Because both of us are in your head, dingbat. Now, do yourself a favor and hide the chair!”
“Why do I like you?” you mutter not really under your breath. “Yes, you hulking mess of hotness, the chair! Unless you want to deal with-”
“GOOOOOOOOOOOOD MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORNINGGGGGGGGG!!!” Your warning is cut off. You bite your tongue and close your eyes as your annoying celestial brother appears from nowhere. Sam covers his head with the bed’s pillow, trying to drown out the brutal singing of the archangel.
“Rise and shine campers! And don’t forget your booties because it’s cold out there!”
“You quote the Bill Murray movie one more time and I swear I’ll-”
“Don’t swear sis, you’re an angel!”
You roll your eyes bitterly before you survey the new level of insanity your brother has reached. “What in the unholy mother of Metatron are you wearing??”
Lucifer is decked out in party hats, streamers, confetti glued to his face, balloons, those weird kazoo-paper-shooty-things that almost never work…it’s like a demented birthday package exploded on his person. He shrugs. “It’s my birthday.”
“No it’s not!”
“Uh,” he scoffs, “it is now. Because I say it is. Isn’t that right, Samantha?”
Sam is doing his best to ignore the new appearance of the world’s most hated figure in history, but he’s failing miserably. It would take a sloth on morphine to not notice the absolute absurdity of your brother. He sighs and rubs his eyes.
“Just…both of you…”
“Not today, smokestack. I need your help right now.” Luci whips out a classic pinata from nowhere. The multi-colored paper rustles gently as he shakes it up and down. “No party’s complete without one of these babies. But, unfortunately, I grudgingly admit I don’t have the height to hang this up from the ceiling. So, you gonna help a brother out or what?”
“We are not brothers.” Sam hardens his gaze at Lucifer. “If you ever call me that again, I will rip you limb from limb and roast your bones.”
You sigh dreamily. You love it when the Winchester boy talks murderously. So…sanguinary. Mmm. Just makes your heart flap around in your chest.
Lucifer shrugs. “So, does that mean if I break it, I get the candy?”
“You’ll be fighting me for it. C’mon.” Yes, you hated your brother, but candy filled pinatas? Million-year old grudges could be put on hold for sugar. You start to climb on top of Lucifer’s shoulders.
“Watch the head.”
“Oh, like I’m damaging precious cargo.” You string up the rainbow donkey. “I got dibs on first whack!”
“Ah, ah, ah. Age before beauty, little sister.”
You whip out a human femur bone from somewhere. “Not if I’ve got the bat.” You point to a disgusted looking Sam with the body part.
“You want up?” Sam closes his eyes and lies on the bed. You shrug. “Your loss then.”
You pull back the femur bone, ready to knock the crap out of the flimsy donkey when-
“Hey!” You protest as a blindfold is placed over your eyes.
“You may be the queen of cheating, but that has no place in the head of Sam Winchester.”
“Can it, Sassifer and let me swing before I think you’re full of candy for me to beat open. Oh wait…”
“Sassifer. I like that.” you hear Lucifer muse. “I’ve been needing a new name. Thanks, Sis. What do you think Sam?”
Sam is silent again. Trying to ignore everything you guess. Sam…my poor, sweet, selfless Sam…
“You know what? We should totally play spin the bottle after this!”
You feel your face heat up as you crack down the femur bone on where Lucifer’s voice came from. The bone shatters in your hands.
You smirk and take the blindfold off your face. “All talk and no brains. It’s like I’m speaking to a walking mouth.”
Lucifer suddenly tackles you and the two of you begin wrestling, glitter flying, balloons popping. Sam looks over at the chaos you two are causing.
“Guys…you’re gonna break something unless you…you know what? Neither of you are real, so never mind.”
“Not real?” you choke out in a strangled voice; Lucifer has an arm around your neck before you flip him onto the floor and break free. You race over to Sam and kiss his cheek, feeling redder than before. “Does that feel ‘not real’ to you?”
“Hey! Paws off my buddy, sis! I still want an untainted vessel someday!”
“Oh, go find a cliff to jump off of.”
“Aw, now you don’t mean that.”
“You know what? If you wanted the best way to kill yourself, jump from your ego and land on your IQ”
Sam snorts in the background; you feel your heart flutter with his approval. Lucifer is stunned speechless. You smile. “Well, as much as I love these conversations, I really should be going. Sam, good luck dealing with this psycho. Save a spin-the-bottle round for me!” You blow a kiss in his general direction and disappear.
(To be honest, anon, I don’t even know where to start. But how about something in 5x15?)
The phone rang.
Every single ring felt endless, too loud and harsh, before
cutting off abruptly, disappearing into a black hole of silence, only to start
all over again.
When Susan’s voicemail clicked on, he closed his eyes and
cut the call off, his chest tightening.
Despite himself, he’d hoped - wished - that she’d pick up, that the first words out of her mouth
would be, “Are you okay?” or even a
quiet, “Hey,” in her husky voice. He
didn’t expect her to happy with him, to magically forget what had happened, but
at least she’d be answering, because she knew he was in the hospital.
Because she’d know he needed someone.
He scrolled through his phone, going through the several
unanswered calls he’d sent her way, all the text messages that went without
response. She was upset and she had every right to be, but he wished she could
see that he was trying. He was doing
everything in his power to make this right, but no matter what he did, no
matter what he tried, it wasn’t good enough.
It would be, though, if he could get things back to the way
they had been before.
She didn’t call him. She didn’t text.
All he had was silence.
Oliver palmed the phone, turning to face the television. He
had no desire to hear what was being said about what had happened. But he also
couldn’t leave, not if he wanted to do things the right way, the proper way,
the way the Mayor of Starling City should do things. As stupid as it was, it
felt like his entire political career hinged on him following doctor’s orders
He slowly made his way to the window. It was dark out, but
the city was still very alive, lights of varying color and size filling the
landscape. His blurry reflection was the only evidence that anyone was in the
room; it was disjointed and off, though, only pieces glimpsing through the half-opened
The minutes slowly ticked by… and for a split second, he let
his mind wander.
He let himself hear the click of heels in the hallway. He
thought about the way they’d abruptly stop at the doorway, the soft brush of
her hand on the doorjamb as she paused, taking a second to drink him in, to see
that he was okay, to know that all the horrible things she’d been imagining the
entire time weren’t real, hadn’t happened. He’d turn, meeting her eyes, a small
smile on his face as he started towards her. She’d meet him halfway, a thousand
things already falling from her beautiful lips - chastisements, mostly - until
they reached each other, until she wrapped him up in her arms, pressing her face
into the crook of his neck, breathing him in. He’d do the same, knowing they
played with life and death every single day, but that no matter what was
happening, just having her in his arms made everything better. He’d hold her
tight, sliding one hand up to the back of her neck, her name slipping past his
Oliver started, inhaling sharply, his eyes refocusing on the
It wasn’t Susan he saw.
It was Felicity.
“Damn it,” he whispered, closing his eyes. He pinched the bridge
of his nose, squeezing until the pain was too much. He shoved it down, not even
bothering to examine where his brain had just gone.
It was just reflexive.
A muscle memory.
Oliver swallowed past the lump in his throat, forcing
himself to take a breath, and then another one. He turned back to the room,
making his way to the bed, ready to turn on the TV after all…
But when he sat down on the edge of the thin mattress, he
didn’t grab the remote.
No, he thought about the past. He thought about how things
might’ve been. He thought about what could’ve happened. He thought about what
Oliver thumbed his phone on, flipping through the screens
until he found her name.
up at him.
He knew if he called her, she’d come. If he asked her, she’d
be there. She always had been, since the first day they met, and she always
would be… like he would be for her, if she asked. A sudden burning deep in his
chest had him clenching his jaw, a reminder of how much he wished she would just
ask, give him another chance, let him show her he would be there for her. God,
there was so much he would do for her if she asked him to… but she didn’t. She
didn’t ask him anything.
Because they weren’t like that anymore.
That didn’t stop him from staring at her name until his
screen went dark, or from closing his eyes and letting himself indulge in the
sight of her coming to the doorway, a flurry of beauty and color, her blue eyes
finding his before she laid into him about the bad juju that was his riding in
He let himself have it, for one minute.
And then he sat up and pushed it all down. He put it back in
its neat little box, stowed it away, and turned the TV on, forcing himself back
(I was talking to @effie214 last night about her tag fics, and then this popped into my head.)
I tag many things
that have to do with self care on my blog as “self care is magick”. I
believe this, wholeheartedly. After all, you are your most important tool.
Here’s a little spell to help you with that.
Pink candle (put a notch one
Black birthday candle
A list of four things you
Sigils for self love
Set up everything you normally do before working a spell. Do any grounding or cleansing you feel is needed.
Pick up the black candle in each of your hands and pour everything that you feel you dislike about yourself into it. Down to the last thing.
Take a deep breath and light the candle, saying:“as
this candle burns away, so do all of my negative thoughts about myself. ”
Release all of your negative thoughts as the candle burns away.
When the candle has burned to the point of going out, shake yourself out.
Pick up the pink candle and light it, saying:“I
have things in myself that I can see as beautiful, such as"… say as many
things as you can think of
Put the sigils in the container as you say them
Once the candle has burned down to the notch, begin to fill your container with the herbs, for every ingredient you put in, state three
things that are beautiful about you, that you don’t like. (ex: if you have
freckles and don’t like them, say "my freckles are beautiful”)
Add your crystals. For every crystal you put in, state three things you like about yourself for each. (ex:I just got my hair cut and it looks awesome, or, my makeup looks so good today)
Seal the container with its
Kiss the side of it, saying:“let
me know that I am lovely, for I know no one else like me. In every part of me I
know there is beauty, because it is a part of me. I am beautiful because I am
astounding. I am beautiful because I am amazing. I am beautiful because I am
me, and only I can be myself.”
Seal the container in wax and place in a place you will see it every day. (ex: hang above your bed, hang in front of a mirror, in front of a computer, etc.)
every time you see it, say something you enjoy about yourself.
That’s it! At step
12, you’re done with the initial spell! Make sure you’ve cleaned up and snuffed
all flames; now go relax, take a nice candle lit bath or drink some tea! Step 13
is very important, don’t feel bad about missing it a few times.
**about the herbs,
if you don’t like these, feel free to mix and match what suits you! This is just what I used! Its all behind the
intent, you don’t have to use everything!**
You and Taehyung had been secretly seeing each other for three months now. He would sneak into your apartment some nights and stay over, sometimes you’d go to his house and sneak in. Although Taehyung didn’t like the fact that you two were sneaking around but he had such strong feelings for you he did whatever you wanted with no second thought. He knew it was to hide from your roommate but he also thought this had something to do with the fact that you hadn’t been in a relationship since Will. He didn’t want to bring it up. He knew he should but he was so head over heels for you he didn’t want to ruin anything.
Could you do a story with a very hurt Jason getting dragged back to the cave by a freaked out dami. Who's worried about his brother then maybe Bruce and the other siblings come in and yah does that make any sense. 🍊🍊🍊#i get bored and read tags #yah
THANK YOU. Wow I didn’t think anyone would read through all those tags lol. I hope you enjoy what I came up with. : )
Jason’s night had not gone as planned. He’d been halfway across the city, ready
to drop in on an unsuspecting group of drug dealers when he’d gotten the call
from Bruce. I need your help.
Bruce didn’t call him often and he never asked for help. Jason’s first thought
had been that Batman was in trouble, but his voice hadn’t sounded strained. His
tentative response of With what? was
answered with a request to watch Damian. More precisely Bruce asked Jason if he
would “Take care of Robin tonight.”
Damian was the last person Jason expected to be babysitting that night. Dick
maybe. Tim probably at some point. But Damian? Jason hadn’t been able to wrap
his mind around it. His youngest sibling was headstrong and far too similar to
Jason himself for Bruce to approve of their spending a lot of time together.
Which meant that Jason was the last choice. He’d scowled, despite Bruce and
anyone else who cared to look being unable to see it. It felt good to turn his
mouth down in a grimace. “No.” He’d answered.
Except Bruce had asked him. And Bruce never asked him for anything. The request
alone tempted something warm to bubble up in Jason, but he pushed it down as
fast at the thought of being the last to be asked.
He didn’t mind spending time with Damian. The kid wasn’t so bad when you pushed
past his prickly exterior, and he had a sense of humor that Jason found
endearing. Especially when it involved dragging Tim for his lack of self-care.
Jason simply refused to be Bruce’s last choice in the matter. He understood it,
but that didn’t mean he had to be happy about it.
The other side of the comm was silent as his father considered the answer and
tried to come up with one of his own. The silence dragged out longer than it
should have and Jason started to wonder if Bruce had closed the connection.
“I’ll send him home then.”
That was it. The comm clicked off and Jason swore. Damian wouldn’t go home.
Even if Bruce marched him back to the manor the boy would be back on Gotham’s
streets in half an hour. Damian was many things: highly trained, able, and
smart, but Jason couldn’t see himself letting a child, because that was
something else Damian was, out patrolling Gotham’s streets alone.
Jason had been Robin. He’d been the kid to do things on his own. To be assured
in his abilities. Batman had trained him after all. He’d failed more times than
he cared to count. Wanted a partner more than that. No Jason wasn’t going to
let Damian patrol alone, neither was he going to call Bruce back and tell him
It took Jason longer than he cared to admit to find Damian. He refused to call
for help early on, for fear of Bruce overhearing before he’d left. Thankfully
his youngest brother had a tendency to follow his father’s example and follow
pre-planned patrols unless something caught his attention.
As Jason moved on to the third area he figured Damian would be he was ready
with a snappy comment to give his little brother the moment he found him.
Something about sneaking out being not DaddyBats approved, but the words died
on his lips the moment he parked his motorcycle and cut the engine. Shouts
filled the air followed by the cough of gunfire.
Jason was off his bike, the vehicle crashing to the ground behind him, and halfway
down the street before his head caught up with his feet. The source of the
sounds had to be close, his eyes grazing each alleyway he passed before moving
on to the next.
over a block away he finally found the right one. He couldn’t see Robin through
the press of men, but he could hear the kid through the roars and grunts of
whoever he was fighting. Jason didn’t hesitate to throw himself into the fray,
working his way towards his brother. He lost himself in the steady,
practiced actions of find the biggest threat and take them out. His brain a few
steps ahead of his guns, a part of his attention on Damian.
All Jason could think of during the fight was the words Bruce had used earlier:
take care of Robin. They were what pushed him to his limit during the fight,
and what propelled him into Damian, shoving the boy out of danger as a stray
bullet caught the side of an unprotected water heater and causing it to