warning: triggers apply. adult language, sexual themes, violence, offensive subjects, offensive behaviors. please read & reblog with caution.
❛ And what exactly does “hooked up” mean? ❜
❛ It’s like a car wreck… you can’t not watch. ❜
❛ What’s that smell? It’s either vomit or fancy cheese. ❜
❛ There is no God. We’re all gonna die. ❜
❛ The hell? You’re supposed to negotiate! ❜
❛ If you’re looking for money, I don’t have any yet. ❜
❛ How do you feel about metal splinters to the eye? ❜
❛ Are you up-to-date on your rabies shots? ❜
❛ I don’t like that you’re getting hurt on purpose to make money. ❜
❛ You’re kidding me? You’re actually serious about this shit? ❜
❛ You’re kinda growing on me. ❜
❛ Wanna see how fast I can unhook your bra? ❜
❛ You make my life a living hell and I want you out of here now. ❜
❛ Half of the world has penises, why do people get so upset about seeing them? ❜
❛ You’re nothing but a warm mouth to me. ❜
❛ I think I’m depressed. I’ve been feeling kind of funky lately. ❜
❛ I never said it was yours. You just wanted it to be. ❜
❛ Wouldn’t be the first time somebody’s disappointed me. ❜
❛ I don’t mean to be an asshole. It’s just… genetic. ❜
❛ Fuck you is what you were invited to. ❜
❛ I can’t even begin to imagine what kind of pussy you’d be in juvie. ❜
❛ I want normal people problems. Like, am I getting enough fiber? ❜
❛ Hey, I think I just insulted myself. ❜
❛ Hey! What the fuck man! He’s/she’s dead! ❜
❛ Oh, could you be a little more vague? ❜
❛ You came all the way down here to talk about my pubes? ❜
❛ How the fuck do you not have a gun? ❜
❛ Sure you’re ready to pop your armed robbery cherry? ❜
❛ You should have seen your face. ❜
❛ You don’t know who you messed with, bitch. ❜
❛ You fuck with the bull, you get an ass full of horns! ❜
❛ I’m not used to having people yell at me all day long. ❜
❛ I have this friend. I think you two might really hit it off. ❜
❛ I’ve seen you put out after the first drink. ❜
❛ You know, I’d hug you but neither of us would like that. ❜
❛ I don’t get why just don’t use her/his face for target practice. ❜
❛ I want a fucking lawyer motherfucker! ❜
❛ You’re covering your own ass and you know it. ❜
❛ You know I used a condom. ❜
❛ Do you know where I can buy a gun? ❜
❛ You think you scare me? Bring it, bitch! ❜
❛ I’m starting to get fucking homicidal. ❜
❛ I will make this kitchen my bitch. ❜
❛ They’re having a party for kids across the street. No booze. ❜
❛ A shrink at school says I’m one of God’s mistakes. ❜
❛ I believe the answer to that question, like the answer to most questions, is fuck you! ❜
❛ Did the two of us finish an entire gallon of box wine the other night? ❜
❛ I can’t handle anything up my ass without alcohol! ❜
❛ I’d be crying right now if I wasn’t so high. ❜
❛ I’m not my dad. You hear me? I’m not my fucking dad! ❜
❛ I would never do half the shit that you’ve done to us. Why are you even here? ❜
❛ Even the homeless get better stuff than us. ❜
❛ I am just as likely as anyone of this family to make something of myself. ❜
❛ You want to get shit faced in the middle of the day. ❜
❛ You have no money yet you’re going into a grocery store. Interesting. ❜
❛ Let’s go get drunk and buy a gun. ❜
❛ It’s a shame when someone you love gets taken away, isn’t it? ❜
❛ If this is a relationship you wanna save, then you gotta fucking save it. ❜
❛ Off to deal drugs on a Saturday morning? ❜
❛ I’m probably biased, you deserve better than him. ❜
❛ If you don’t get out right now, I will shoot you. ❜
❛ Still don’t want your family to know? ❜
❛ Did I mention that I’m falling in love with you? ❜
❛ You can’t feel a persons headache by touching his head. ❜
❛ Are you robbing me with my own fucking gun? ❜
❛ How can you tell when you’re in love with someone? ❜
❛ Is that supposed to be some kind of insult? ❜
❛ I’m done living the way other people want me to live. ❜
❛ I think I was trying to prove something, not to you but to myself. ❜
❛ If it wasn’t sex then what was the problem? ❜
❛ What do you want me to say? That I’m self-destructive? ❜
❛ Random destruction makes you think of me? ❜
❛ I haven’t abused marijuana like the rest of you, so yes I remember. ❜
❛ Your turf? What is this West Side Story? ❜
❛ All I’m gonna be thinking about while you choke me out is how much I love you. ❜
❛ If I don’t invest in myself, no one else will. ❜
❛ It smells worse than a dead hooker’s ass in there. ❜
❛ I don’t wanna be me anymore. ❜
❛ Why would anyone go to the zoo sober? ❜
❛ I’ve had so many abortions the next one is free. ❜
❛ I’d trade my left nut for one more hour of sleep. ❜
❛ How do you do that? The nice thing? ❜
❛ I’m sick of living in your shadow. ❜
❛ I never thought I’d say this but you were right. ❜
❛ Where can I get knives and blunts? ❜
❛ I can’t share a room with someone in constant state of arousal! ❜
❛ I’m sneaking antibiotics into his toothpaste just in case. ❜
❛ I got tasered for like a second and I crapped myself. ❜
❛ I’ve never seen you put on deodorant before. ❜
❛ I haven’t had a drink for two days…well granted I was unconscious. ❜
❛ I’ll be in the bushes across the street stalking you. ❜
❛ Is there anything more enjoyable on earth than humiliating your peers? ❜
❛ I need to buy a gun. For protection. In case there’s a shooting here. I’m scared. ❜
❛ It’s my job to tell you when you’re making a huge mistake. ❜
❛ Have you ever woken up naked in the street with no idea how you got there? ❜
❛ You’re either boning or you’re waiting to bone. ❜
❛ Doctors are thieves, they just have degrees to keep them out of jail. ❜
❛ You want me to be realistic? Okay, I’ll be realistic. ❜
❛ I confided in you and you told everyone. ❜
❛ I have no idea what that means but I’m enjoying trying to picture it. ❜
❛ I never made any fucking promises to you! ❜
what the FUCK you guys. I meant for this to be a cute drabble like thing but it just kept going? like I wanted this to be a fun piece to write to take a break from Homecoming but then I got invested. lol @ me. it’s also been a long, loOOng time since I’ve written smut so I hope it’s okay. this is 80% slow burn, 5% smut, 15% jasmine trying to be a good friend.
title: elevator of shame fandom: hamilcast pairings: daveed diggs x reader rating: soft m word count: 6418
prompt: We live in the same block of flats but haven’t ever talked and Sunday morning we were both doing the walk of shame and had to stand in the lift together
When John opens his eyes, everything is white and silent.
His first feeling is shock. Shock over this surreal environment. The sand, the heat, the tanks and the death have disappeared. No screams and no helicopter sounds can be heard. Instead, quiet, friendly voices around him. Birds singing somewhere. Well, outside. Outside where the sun shines. Where there is a daily life. Around him is the smell of disinfectants and mild detergent.
John blinks at the bright light in the room. He realizes he’s in a bed. No narrow, hard cot. It is a large, soft bed. A thick pillow under his head. A blanket pulled up to his chin. It’s warm.
He also notes that he can hardly move. It’s like a heavy weight is pushing him down. John grunts, and wiggles tentatively with his toes under the blanket. This works very well. But as he tries to lift his head, an unpleasant, throbbing pain passes through his shoulder. At the same time, it occurres to him that he has been shot. Shot. In Afghanistan.
John lets his head sink back into the pillow and breathes in the cool air in the room. I was shot … Pictures before his eyes make him swallow. Running soldiers, screams, shots, an explosion. A hand on his arm, a whisper, a groan as eyes close forever … And then the sharp pain as the bullet pierces him. Pain, so much pain, he falls into the sand and he can hear his name. Someones shouting his name … A moment later it’s all gone.
John knows he’s been taken to a hospital. For the initial treatment. And then. Home.
Home, meaning this hospital.
He sighs, and licks his dry lips. Thirst. His gaze falls to the side of the wall, where a call button is. He presses it. A few minutes later, a young nurse comes into the room. She smiles the certain standard smile, which is so common in a hospital. “Ah, Dr. Watson, you are awake. Very good. The doctor will want to see your wound soon. Do you need something?” “Water,” John can only croak with difficulty. And he points his finger vaguely at the bed. “Could you … raise it please?” “Yes, of course.” The nurse pushes a button on the bed and it slowly lifts. “I’ll bring you water.”
Then she is gone again.
John can see the room better now. And when he looks aside, he sees that he is not alone. Next to him is another bed. And there is a man in it. The face half hidden by an oxygen mask. John can see thick, dark locks. And pale, almost white skin. He judges the man to be in his mid-thirties. He stares at the completely motionless body and swallows. Something is drawing him to this unknown man … something he can not explain. John notes that he is fascinated. Fascinated without really having a reason for it. He shakes his head slightly.
The nurse comes back with a mug and a water bottle. She pours him water into the mug and John takes it with a still unsteady hand. He drinks, relieved. Then he says softly, “Who is that?” The nurse follows his gaze and says with a sad undertone, “Oh, this is Sherlock. Sherlock Holmes. He’s been here for a long time. Almost half a year. He’s in a coma.” “Ah,” John says, swallowing. Half a year. That’s a long time. “How …?” “How it happened? He overdosed on cocain. We
… well, we can’t ask him, but we think it was a suicide attempt.” She gently shakes her head and takes the empty mug from John. “It’s really a shame. He never gets any visitors. Never. The thought that no one in the world is there for him … Who knows if he will ever wake up again. Perhaps there is simply nothing worth it for … Oye, I talk too much.” She seems a little embarrassed and clears her throat. “If you need anything, just call, ok? The doctor should be here any minute.” “Thank you. Yes.” The nurse leaves. John does not look away from the sleeping man in the other bed.
Half a year. No visit. Jesus. * The days pass at a quiet, slow pace, which both soothes and disturbs John. He is not used to it. He almost expects to be suddenly torn from the calm routine by a shrill siren. Or suddenly lie back in the hot, bloody sand of the desert. But of course it doesn’t happen. Instead, he wakes up around 9 in the morning, receives his breakfast and is examined. The doctor is friendly and passive. Nodding pleased at the sight of John’s wound, while John himself stares at the hole in his shoulder with a growing nausea. After that, he can only watch TV, or watch Sherlock being fed. It’s hard to watch. No reaction comes from the comatose man, when the nurses lift his limbs off the bed to wash him. Turn him to his side. Dress him again. The motionless body doesn’t resist. It reminds John of a doll. He does not like this thought. At noon, they bring John food again. For Sherlock, of course, nothing comes. He is fed artificially. In the evening, more food. And more TV. A lot of rest. A little too much, John thinks once, and feels strangely guilty at the thought. On the third day of this routine, he talks to Sherlock for the first time. It’s because a James Bond movie is on. John always liked James Bond. And that’s what he says. “This is a good movie. A really good movie. Lots of action. And the women are pretty, the men too,” he says aloud in the room. And laughs. There’s no answer. And he feels a little stupid.
After a while, John realizes that he will not get any visitors either. It’s not really that surprising. Harry is … well, he doesn’t even know where his sister lives. His mother is dead. And he does not want to see his father. Not that he thinks, his father would want to see him … Once, he receives a call from the leader of his unit. From Afghanistan. He says something like, “it’s a shame” and “get back on your feet soon”. John doesn’t say much. He only murmurs “Yes, sir” now and then. His hand is trembling as he holds the phone. A tremor. It hasn’t stopped since he woke up. He doesn’t get any visitors. Just like Sherlock. Only the nurses and the doctor enter the room. “Here we are, huh?” John says to Sherlock while eating his bland soup. “We’re alone together here.”
And then the nightmares start. About the war. About death and pain. About men he could not save. Distorted faces in the dark. Eyes full of despair. He wakes up in the middle of the night. Heavily breathing. Bathed in sweat. He moans and sits up with difficulty. Runs a hand over his face. He looks at Sherlock. Sherlock, who is, as always, motionless in bed. A part of his face lit from the machine that measures his heartbeat. John swallows. He must … He feels the overwhelming desire to talk to someone. It needs to stop. He can not … Oh, hell, he has no one and it’s not like Sherlock would complain, right? He clears his throat and begins.
“Well, uh, Sherlock. How do you feel? Um, I hope I didn’t wake you. Sorry, haha, bad joke … I had a nightmare, which is quite obviously, right? Well, uhm, I hope it doesn’t bother you if I just talk a little. Yes. I’ll talk. So make yourself comfortable. Haha. Sometimes I think I’ve gone the wrong way. I became a doctor because I wanted to help people. And the army … Well, it was just a whim. An idea that me and my friends had. One of them is dead, by the way. Mmh. I … it was not always bad. The training was exhausting though. Sometimes I thought I could not make it. My family was not much help either. My father is an asshole. There is no other word. My sister was thrown out. My mother died. It was all … a mess, you know? Anyway, I’ve been struggling. I wanted to do it. This one thing. And I did it. I’ve become a doctor. I went to Afghanistan and treated soldiers. I’ve seen things that would turn your stomach. Wounds that seemed like death sentences. I’ve looked into hopeless, desperate eyes. Sometimes I saved them. Sometimes I couldn’t. And the faces of those I could not save, they haunt me now, you know? In my dreams. God. I’m so sorry. I really am … Do you see that? I’m crying. That hasn’t happened for a long time. It seems to make you sentimental when you get a bullet in your shoulder … "
"Thank you for listening to me all the time, Sherlock. All this blabbering must be terrible. I thought about James today. Who that is? Well, good question. We were more than friends. But never more than … no idea. I kissed him. Well. In the desert, watching the sunset. Once. Just once. Do you think that is romantic? Shit, yes. Mabye it is. ”
* “My middle name is Hamish. I hate it. I mean, who calls their child John Hamish? My father chose my name. There we have it again. This bastard. Hamish. I always avoid telling people that name. So, I guess that makes us mates? Hey, buddy, haha. No. That just sounds wrong. Sorry.” * "I can get up today. Great, huh? I feel like an old man. My damn shoulder, my trembling hand … a pretty sad picture I make, huh? ”
“It was not so bad. I mean, I for some reason I’m limping, quite badly, but the fresh air was great. I was down in the park. And imagine, a woman spoke to me. She’s called Mary. She said she’s working here. She is nice. And you know what, I asked her if we could go for a coffee. She said yes. Can I get a ‘well done’? No? All right. ” * “Do you know, that you’re pretty? Really, you are. I maybe would have asked you out, if I met you somewhere else before. Oh God, sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me today. I … Maybe I’m just afraid. Because … well. I’ll have to leave here soon, I guess. And I don’t know what to do then …” * “Well, that’s it. I … tomorrow I can go. I don’t know exactly where, but I can go. Mmh. I think I’m really scared. Mary said I should do therapy. No idea if that would help. I guess, I can try it. Maybe. Well, I’ll pack my things. You know … you really could wake up to say good-bye to me. It would be nice …” * “Surprise! Yes, here I am again. I … I missed you, Sherlock. You’re a good listener, you know? Better than my therapist … So, what happened since I left, tell me, haha.” * “I will marry Mary. That’s … yes, that’s good, right? She is … she gives me a certain hold in life. I would not know where else to go. What else could I do? So. We are getting married.” * “Oh God. Fuck Hey, Sherlock. I … She’s pregnant. She … she’s really pregnant. Did you hear that? I’m having a baby. I’m going to be a father. I. Can you belive that? No, me neither. I … Oh my God, what am I doing?” * “This is not what I wanted, do you hear me Sherlock? That … my God, I can not do that. That’s … That’s not me. Fuck. ” * “I love her … Really, I do. I mean, I married her. But … I just do not know what I’m doing. I’m … This is not me. I don’t want a quiet family life in a terraced area. I want … I don’t even really know what I want … But, I hate all of this. I … I thought I was going the right way this time, but that … that’s not what I want. I’m not a family man, Sherlock. ” * “You know, Sherlock, you can just wake up once. So … so we could really talk. Because, well … You listen to me here as I talk every day. Aren’t you bored. Jesus. I know it would be a miracle if you woke up. I have … I’ve heard the nurses talking. They’ve given up on you. It would be a miracle. But … I don’t know, maybe you can just make the miracle happen for me? Simply … Oh God, I don’t know what I’m talking about. Good bye, Sherlock. Until tomorrow.” * 6 weeks later.
“Hello, Dr. Watson. I’m sorry to call you so late, but he … he’s asking for you.”
“Who? Who is asking for me?”
“Sherlock Holmes. The coma patient you have been visiting. He woke up and now he’s asking for you. Very urgently.”
John hurried to the hospital. He doesn’t even notice that he left his cane at home. Until Sherlock points it out. Sherlock, sitting upright in bed, an exhausted, oblique smile on his face. Sherlock,
who says quietly, “Hello, John.” Sherlock, who steals John’s heart within a second and opens the door to a whole new, completely different
story. Who shows John a new way. Which is finally
Dr Who but each incarnation is swapped with one of their companions.
omg?? I love it??
The First Doctor:
She’s not completely unfriendly, exactly, she just doesn’t have time for humans being idiots. In the right circumstances, she can actually be very warm. She loves history, which is lucky because her granddaughter Susan does too (they tell people Susan is her daughter, but even then it’s a bit of a stretch, human ages are weird). Of course, then two of Susan’s teachers follow her home one night, and next thing the Doctor knows she has a crotchety old history teacher and a handsome young science teacher on her spaceship with no way to get rid of them that isn’t morally questionable.
The humans help her lose some of her haughtiness. She leaves Susan in the 22nd century to become her own woman.
Along the way and against her better judgement, she falls hopelessly for Ian Chesterton. He wants to stay with her forever, but she knows it would never work, and encourages him to go with John Foreman in the Dalek Time Machine to get back to his own time.
Later, in other lives, she checks in on him occasionally.
The Second Doctor:
The baby face is a problem. It takes a good twenty minutes on a lot of occasions to get anyone to take her seriously. On the bright side, a lot of Polly’s clothes fit her now.
She finds a best friend in Scotsman Jamie McCrimmon, whose rather naive approach to futuristic technology is extremely refreshing, as is his unique insightfulness.
After Ben and Polly leave them, they rescue Victoria, who Jamie is utterly taken with. Victoria is unsure about living a life so unsupervised by someone older and won’t listen to the Doctor’s insistence that she is in fact perfectly qualified to look after them all.
She and Victoria spend a good many nights aboard the TARDIS talking about women’s history and the things to come for women in the future and how women act on other planets. Victoria is fascinated, occasionally horrified, and often quietly thrilled at the things she learns.
It’s a shame to see her go, but all she ever wanted was a family and security, and the Doctor can’t provide that.
They meet an eccentric man on a space station, with funny trousers and an obsession with the recorder. The Doctor and Jamie like him instantly, and invite him on board only to learn that the man had been considering stowing away if not invited.
The Time Lords take her friends away from her. She is forced to regenerate and exiled to Earth, as punishment for her interference.
The Third Doctor:
Shrewd, passionately devoted to science, and not one to take kindly to interruptions or anyone trying to talk down to or even disagree with her, it’s a wonder the Doctor even gets hired by UNIT at all. But then again, beggars can’t be choosers.
On the bright side, this fellow John Smith from Cambridge seems to be the one person around with an actual brain and not just a penchant for attacking first and thinking later.
They’re friends instantly. Or, they are once she makes it perfectly clear that she is the cleverer of the two. The look on his face when he realises is a memory she’ll treasure forever.
He eventually leaves to go back to his own research, upon realising she doesn’t need him.
It’s a shame and she misses him, but then Jo Grant comes into her life. Despite an awful first impression, the two women are soon fiercely devoted to each other. Jo keeps going on about women having to stick together amongst all the army boys, and while the Doctor could usually not care less about gender politics, if it means Jo hangs around her more, then so be it.
The Master turns up. It’s exhausting and exasperating and oh so much fun.
Meanwhile, the Doctor’s told herself to not let herself fall for humans, after how much Ian hurt. But with Jo, it’s impossible not to. (Not that she hasn’t noticed the Brigadier’s lingering stares, or failed to appreciate him in his uniform. But he’s far too professional to ever do anything, and too trigger happy besides.)
Jo is like sunshine and she’s always there and smiling and pressing herself against the Doctor out of fear or shock, until one day they’re in the supply closet of a spaceship and they’re kissing furiously instead of listening out for their pursuers.
It’s wonderful, being with Jo. Until Clive Jones comes along, and the Doctor has to tell her to forget about her and marry the nice young man who can grow old with her and give her the life she wants.
She drinks more champagne than she is proud of that night.
Luckily, along comes Sarah Jane Smith, who is exactly the kind of human that the Doctor automatically adores. Inquisitive, sharp, and a vocal feminist. What a woman.
Of course, then giant alien spiders happen, and it’s time for a change.
The Fourth Doctor:
Or… not. Apparently, she’s doomed to be young, attractive, humanoid, and pale skinned throughout all her lives. There are worse fates, but she wouldn’t mind a little variety, frankly. And being so small is getting infuriating.
Harry takes a long while to take her seriously, but once he does, he is steadfastly loyal. Sarah Jane takes the regeneration in stride for the most part.
And after them, Leela, who is so strange and savage but so utterly charming in her honesty. They share a few kisses, but nothing more.
Then comes Romana. A young Time Lord who looks older than her, is far taller than is sensible, and has an even more absurd grin. She can’t stand him, with his bragging about his grades and thinking he knows everything.
She soon teaches him that experience wins every time.
Of course, then he spots some pretty princess on Tara, and next thing she knows, the moment the whole Key To Time mess is sorted, Romana is now a less taller, less ridiculous, utterly beautiful Time Lady in her first regeneration.
She tries to argue against what she can only consider body theft, or at least copying, but it is a relief to not have to crane her neck up to speak to her companion.
Romana becomes a most dear friend. She’s missed being around someone like her, someone who understands. It makes it all the worse when she leaves, leaving the Doctor with only Adric and his incessant questions.
The Fifth Doctor:
There’s something about this body, a regality, that commands a little more respect than the ones before it, despite it following the pattern of her others.
Adric’s questions exasperate her, while Tegan’s demands to be taken home are met with gentle requests for patience and promises of Heathrow airport, and this Traken prince she’s picked up is thankfully one of the most polite people she’s ever had in the TARDIS. Decent brain on him, too.
Tegan’s smile sometimes makes her stomach do backflips. The Doctor ignores it. She’s learned her lesson. It’s almost a relief to see Tegan reach her breaking point and leave, except it isn’t, because for a long while it feels like a part of her is missing.
Turlough is a curiosity, but a nice one who makes for surprisingly good company in the absence of the others.
Perpugilliam Brown is a surprise. The Doctor remembers why she has tried to avoid America where possible in her travels. Americans are loud. But in the case of Peri, it involves shouting at the Master, and as such, the Doctor decides that Perpugilliam Brown can stay as long as she likes.
Between the two of them and soon Erimem, uncrowned Pharaoh of Egypt, they make quite the team.
The Sixth Doctor:
It’s about time! Finally, a more weathered model. Peri is surprised to say the least, and seems a little disappointed to lose out on her best friend who had until now looked a very similar age to her, but soon realises very little has changed.
And now she lets the Doctor take care of her a bit better. Thank goodness for that! The maternal instincts in this body are absurdly strong, she has no idea what she would do if she couldn’t express them.
Now, the borderline narcissistic but quietly lovable history professor she accidentally picks up some time after losing Peri is a trickier matter. Still, at least he shares her love for chocolate cake.
The Seventh Doctor:
Bright, bubbly, and able to get most people to like her within ten seconds. Now this is a regeneration she likes. Plus, her most impressive set of lungs yet. Handy, for calling companions who like to wander off.
She tries to not encourage Ace’s use of explosives, but it’s difficult when she sees how genuinely happy they make the girl. She’s getting soft in her old age, she knows.
Still, at least her brain makes up for it. She can out-think a computer, easily. The universe is her chessboard and she’ll do whatever the hell she pleases with it.
The Eighth Doctor:
She’s a jolly thing. Always keen for adventure, ready to shout at anyone who deserves it, and just wants to have a good time, really.
After a rather rocky start involving amnesia and kissing the cardiologist who had caused her regeneration in the first place, the Doctor is just minding her own business when she accidentally messes with history.
It seems that saving this stowaway on the R101 might not have been the best idea after all. But he’s so charming and sweet and genuine, sharing her utter passion for life, that by the time she realises her mistake, she’s not willing to part with him.
That goes… about as well as one might expect.
The Ninth Doctor:
It’s funny, being a weathered old war veteran with a guilty conscience, and simultaneously looking like someone who could be on the front of a magazine.
Life is hard, after the time war, but she meets a man with big ears and blue eyes and things get better. A lot better. It feels good to smile again.
The addition of Captain Jack Harkness is an interesting one, but she’s always said the more the merrier. Their other companion is not quite as happy about this development, but before long they’re the best of friends.
The Tenth Doctor:
She’s gentler now, somehow. Oh, she has her anger and her snark, and boy does this body have a set of lungs on her. But she’s so much softer, underneath.
Losing her friends from her last body takes its toll. She at least manages to avoid comparing Martha to them that came before her. Martha is wonderful, always completing even the most impossible tasks that the Doctor puts to her. They part on good terms, after the Master’s ravaging of the Earth. (The Master had not been so impressed with this version of her. He had trouble seeing the strength within, seeing that she was more than the duality of compassion and shouting.) Martha needs to look after her family, and that’s probably for the best.
And then there’s the skinny idiot in the suit. He actually talks faster than she does, which is absurd, but she wonders if that’s simply because of his questionable family. Perhaps not letting them get a word in is how he survives.
Either way, they get along like a house on fire. Losing him, wiping his memory and seeing him stare right through her and smile that stupid smile, is almost enough to break her.
No more companions, she swears.
The Eleventh Doctor:
It’s all about fun, now. Impressing the little boy whose garden she crashes in and then impressing him when he’s grown up and has waited 14 years for her. (To hell with her rule about no more companions. Her old self was full of dumb ideas anyway.)
Oh yes, she likes Rory Williams a lot. And his best friend John isn’t bad either. Mind you, that nose…
She has her spaceship, and her boys, and life is good. Well, there’s River Song to worry about, but she can never be sure if the archaeologist is more interested in her or John. Just one more mystery, it seems.
Losing Rory, and then John, is hard. But she knows that they’re happy, and that’s enough.
The Twelfth Doctor:
Short, bossy, a control freak, and a slight obsession with tartan. Also, her English teacher companion is secretly a rock star wannabe, disguised as a reclusive Scottish nerd.
What’s a girl to do?
(Apparently, find out that her best enemy is alive, and now also female. And Scottish like her companion. The first kiss had been… shocking to say the least. The ones after, against her better judgement, decidedly less so.)
She cares about her companion more than she will ever say, and when faced with losing him, takes things too far. Further than anyone should ever take anything. And when it is all said and done… she can’t remember his face, or his voice, or how he sounded when he mocked how large her eyes were.
River is there to comfort her, though, in those 24 years on Darillium.
And then Bill. Brilliant Bill. Oh yes, they make quite the team. And Nardole helps sometimes too.
Preference "How they react to you giving them pleasure under the table during a group dinner" (NSFW)
(Woooo more nasty preference! Yay our faves 😏😏😏lol Hope it is as requested and you all like it :3 Gifs not mine/found them on google/credits to the original owners.)
Negan-Feeling your hand run up his thigh, he’d instantly smirk to himself and get turned on by the idea of you desiring him and taking control. He wouldn’t be able to resist to look at your hand skillfully undoing his belt and taking him out in your hand. He’d lick his lips to look at you stroke him so eagerly and take it all in as he’d only having the thought of taking you on right in the table, not even caring if the others know or not about you and him. “Oh honey…You’re doing this now…Fuck…You like that? Taking control when you know I can’t do anything else to you…”
Daryl-Feeling your leg propped against his all of a sudden and your hand travelling to undo his belt, he’d try to convince you otherwise with his eyes, knowing that he’ll have difficulty control himself as you’d have your fun. As you’d undo his belt and manage to start stroking him, he’d bite his tongue to keep his voice and just grunt in anger for letting himself be so vulnerable to you at such a moment. Each glance he’d throw back at you would only serve to warn you about what’s to come. “You’re gonna regret this, Y/N…Once everyone’s out…I’m gonna f-…”
Rick-Feeling your hand on his thigh, he’d look at you lovingly, hinting to you as to what you’ll both be doing later. However, as you’d surprise him by starting to undo his pants and stroke him, he’d be dumbfounded for a moment, his eyes wide and his words cut short. As everyone would notice, he’d quickly recover himself, only to glare back at you from head to toe and shake his head, actually smirking about the situation. “Y/N, you’re unbelievable…You nearly let everyone know about your dirty little secret…”
Merle-He’d grab your hand from under the table and make you feel his growing need for you with a grin, only for you to start rubbing him and eventually give him the needed relief. It would genuinely surprise him yet turn him on as well even more to feel you stroking him as Rick would talk to you about something, as he didn’t expect you to solve his problem right in the company of everyone around. With no shame, he’d even grip your wrist to keep guiding you. “That’s right, Y/N…I need you right there…Fuck…I’m gonna have so much fun after this punishing you for making me damn horny…”
Glenn-Feeling your hand on his thigh, he’d smile at you lovingly, only for his gaze to change as he’d be shocked to feel you undoing his pants. He’d look around to see if anyone had noticed, only to smirk at how bold you are as he puts his hand over yours to make you stop. As you’d overpower him, he’d end up having the most difficult time to maintain his calm, panting and groaning ever slightly from the feeling, only for others to ask him if he’s feeling well. “I-I’m fine! I-It’s just a little cramp guys, nothing serious…nothing to look here…just keep eating…”
The Governor-Feeling your hand brush against his crotch, he’d grow weary of you and glare at you. He’d hate the feeling of being teased and played with so much, that he’d beat you to the punch by begging you with a whisper to start stroking him right then and there, not caring if anyone will see. He’d end up smirking in satisfaction to feel your hand and would end up clenching his fist as he tries his best to keep the conversation with the others as casual as he can. “You better stop your little teasing, Y/N…And start using your hands properly…Deny me of it and we’ll have a serious talk later…”
Abraham-Feeling your hand on his thigh, he would make a loud playful comment about teasing him in public, making everyone laugh, only to stunned to feel you actually undoing his pants a few moments later. Suddenly, as you’d start to stroke him, he’d get quiet and wouldn’t be able to form a proper sentence as people would talk around the table. He’d get genuinely flustered by your action and for once feel completely vulnerable, only to yank you closer to him and whisper his warnings. “Goddamn it, Y/N…Are you serious? I-I was just joking earlier…Y-you didn’t have to take it that way…Just wait…”
Eugene-The instant, he feels your hand on his thigh he’d freeze and stare at you with a worried look, not knowing what he should be doing. As he’d look at your hand, he’d be fixated the whole time with each of your movements, from removing his belt to actually stroking him. He’d be so lost in his thoughts as to what was happening, he’d forget about his food and everyone else, only to get incredibly nervous and a stuttering mess as someone would ask if he was alright. “I-I’m okay! Fine! I’m fine that’s what i meant…What? I-I’m n-not v-very h-hungry…t-that’s all…”
Jesus-Feeling your hand on his thigh, he’d look at you with a smile and grab a hold of your hand for a moment, thinking you wanted to show your affection for him in a romantic way. As he’d let go and start to eat, he’d instantly drop his utensil and sit back up straight to feel your hand in his pants, stroking him. He’d look at you wide eyed and wouldn’t know what to say. As you’d keep up, he’d bite his tongue to keep quiet and simply look at you whimpering for his release.
Dwight-Feeling your hand rubbing his thigh up and down, he’d be impatient and give you a look that hints at what you should be truly doing to him. He’d want you badly and grab your hand to rub him even more, only to smirk seeing you take charge of him by eventually undoing his pants. As soon as you’d stroke him, he’d feel satisfied and would give you what you’d need to hear, him begging you, all while he manages to keep the others unsuspecting of you. “A little faster…and tighter, Y/N please…I need it…Yes…Like that…”
Can you do the reactions of the RFA + V to MC having a major panic attack? Sorry if it's of any bother, I've just been having a lot of panic attacks as of late and think this would help immensely. Thanks in advance!
(๑ˊ▵ॢˋ̥๑) Take care of yourself, dear! Panic attacks are hard. At my old job I used to struggle with them constantly, so I know how it is. Just be sure to breathe and do what is best for you, and don’t be afraid to ask for help!
- It was really uncomfortable being with him in public at times.
- Mostly it was dates, but occasionally when you went to go see his plays, his fans were a bit troublesome
- Some knew you, others didn’t, and even if they didn’t even interact with you much, you still felt yourself on high alert and struggling to enjoy his plays
- He was a great actor! But it was just so damn difficult sometimes.
- But you Refused to break down in public. So you barely managed to keep yourself together- Shaking, nails digging into your skin, nerves ready to scream if some one so much as looked at you funny
- It was easy to tell you didn’t feel that great, but you kept the ruse up enough that people didn’t question it.
- When he took you back to his apartment however, that’s when it all just crashed down
- Tears flooded your eyes and you shook violently, wanting to curse at yourself for not being able to at least make it into the bathroom before you broke
- Zen fucking Panicked. He was on you in a flash, carefully holding your arms and keeping you standing
- “Babe? Baby, what’s wrong? Are you okay? Are you hurt?”
- You couldn’t talk, you felt like your chest was on fire. Instead you just gripped his arms back as strongly as you could muster, but it was still a weak grip.
- He followed you onto the floor, gently pulling you too him as you struggled to breathe, tears soaking his shirt.
- “Shh, babe, I’m right here, I’m right here. Just…Let it out, cry for a bit, and then you can tell me what’s wrong, okay? You’re not hurting right?”
- Your chest was screaming, but you shook your head no.
- It took a while for you to be able to talk right. When you could finally speak, your voice came out almost cracked
- “I’m, I’m sorry. Panic attack.”
- He just nodded, and rocked you back and forth a bit.
- He’d want you to eventually tell him what caused it, so he could help you more in the future, but right now he just wanted to calm you down.
- He looked up to you so much, putting this lovable but nearly impossible weight on your shoulders
- He loved you. He was trying his damn best not to compare you to Rika, but the weight still held you down.
- One night a guest rejected your email, and you felt ashamed. I mean, the stuff they asked should had been easy for you to answer! But you managed to fuck it all up, like normal.
- You debated on how to react. Your whole mind was screaming against you, telling you to throw your phone and scream, but your body was as still as stone.
- You saw Yoosung peer over at you, and then frown as you didn’t respond to his wave
- God, he was just going to berate you. Get that sad little smile as you search his eyes for the words he won’t push out
- “Almost like Rika, but not enough. Shame.”
- Tears prickled at your eyes, and Yoosung immediately was kneeling down to look you in the eyes, your body refusing to move from your position on his bed
- “Hey, mc? Can you hear me? Are you okay?”
- You could only close your eyes, tears rolling down your cheeks. You weren’t ready for this, you weren’t ready to face the fact that you weren’t good enough for someone again
- But those words never left his mouth
- Instead he wrapped his arms around you, rubbing your back and holding you as tightly as he could without hurting you
- He let your tears fall, just offering a few shhs as you tried to talk. But he never said anything negative. Nothing.
- He refused to compare you to her ever again. Especially if just the idea of him doing so set you like this
- Once you could move, once you could talk without it being a stuttering mess, he would calmly ask you what happened. Did someone get hurt? Were you hurt?
- When you showed him the email, he scoffed and just kissed your forehead
- “Mc, it’s fine. One guest reject won’t harm us. Even if just one person came, we would consider that an amazing outcome, okay?”
- You nodded, unsure of the validity of his words, but you decided to take what you could get
- He continued to baby you a bit that day, and even though you felt a bit embarrassed, it felt so comforting to know you were loved.
- Every party you went to with him you managed to mess up.
- Stuttering constantly. Stepping on someone’s dress. Botching the pronunciation of a weird menu item.
- They never laughed outloud, or complained, but you could feel the white hot stares they bore into you, crawling up your spine, stabbing each of your ribs.
- You had your panic medication, but you refused to take that in front of any one. You needed to prove to yourself you could last just one dinner. Just one, god please just one
- And you were so far
- Until you spilled red wine all over the white tablecloth.
- The other woman let out a yelp, trying to stop her dress from being stained. She saved hers, while your dress took the brunt of it. The men didn’t offer much of a reaction, Jumin acting quickly and waving a waiter over before the wine could ruin too much,
- But you couldn’t breathe. Those familiar awful feelings were springing up on you, and. And did that man just make fun of you? But it was just- You just couldn’t-
- “I have to go to the restroom.” You sprang out of your seat and booked it.
- It wasn’t far off, but you dashed like someone was about to murder you. You slammed into the woman’s room, shakily shoving your purse on the counter as your hands searched for your meds
- Just two. Two would be enough. You had a few sips of wine, the wine would react to it, and your meds would speed up faster than they normally do.
- But suddenly someone else came in, and you were shaking so harshly your pill bottle was rattling.
- “Mc? Are you alright?”
- Jumin’s hands were on yours in an instant, stopping the pills from moving, holding your hands tight. You tried stumbling out a sentence. He couldn’t be in here, this was-
- “Shh. You were unwell. It’s fine, nothing bad will happen.”
- He takes the bottle from your hands and you want to scream as he reads the label.
- But, he just pops out two of the pills for you, holds them to your mouth.
- You numbly open your lips, allowing him to place the pills in your mouth. If this was any other moment, you’d feel shame and slap his hand away, but you needed these so badly, and you couldn’t stop shaking
- His worried expression softened when you took them, rubbing them against the bottom of your tongue. After placing the cap back on the bottle, he shoved it in your purse before pulling you tight against him.
- “I know you feel bad about these accidents, but trust me, mc, I’ve seen much worse. No one is judging you. They’ve been in your shoes before.”
- God, you just wanted to melt against him, to just sob out your stress, but you couldn’t. Not right here, even as your eyes watered, not right here
- He kissed your forehead, calling Driver Kim to come pick the both of you up. You tried to stop him, but he shook his head curtly. This wasn’t going to be discussed.
- Once the two fo you went home, he pulled you into bed with him, tucking the covers around any free side of you and holding you tight. He knew you loved cuddling, and if it helped, he would cuddle you all night
- A loud crash shattered against the cafe, you instantly dropping the plastic platter to cover your face
- This was the fourth time this month you had ruined a few cups. This time you even managed a saucer.
- You didn’t want to remove your hands. You could hear snickering, you knew you could, and you could feel your eyes well up
- They couldn’t see you like this
- But you couldn’t move
- You numbly heard Jaehee’s voice for a bit, sounding over the ringing through your head, through your ears, and you blankly followed as an arm wrapped around your shoulders, bringing you away from the mess
- After walking for a bit, calm but firm hands pulled yours away from your face
- Jaehee’s soft and worried face came into view, and as she saw the tears streaking your cheeks she instantly brought a tissue to your face, dabbing carefully
- “I-I-I’m so sorryIjustcouldn’t-”
-” Shhhh, shh shh, mc. It’s alright. It’s okay. Those were very cheap cups, don’t worry.”
- “Shush.” It was firm, but quiet. She sat you down at the table in the back room were the two of you were, silently getting a cup of hot water and a tea bag.
- She sat in front of you, steeping the tea a bit, then adding honey before sliding it closer to you.
- “It’s hot, but drink it. It’ll calm you down.”
- You shakily reached for it, almost wanting to dump the whole thing on you because you felt as though you deserved it. but…That’d just be another mess for Jaehee.”
- She watched you drink it, placing her hand over your free one when you could hold the cup with just one hand. Her thumb rhythmically rubbed a circle on the back of your hand, and she even started humming a bit.
- Soon, the quiet but warm setting of the room calmed your thumping heart, and you were able to breathe normally.
- When you finished the tea, she sat up and cupped your face in both hands, kissing your lips.
- “I love you, mc.”
- “I love you too.”
- Admittedly, you were so scared the moment he mentioned all the people that could come after him.
- At first you dismissed it, then you tried too later when the ‘hacker’ ordeal was over, but it kicked into full swing one night when the security system went off one day.
- It was all fine, just the system freaking out over a toy that had started up at 4 am rather than at 4 pm. Nothing that he couldn’t fix
- But you were on the floor of the bedroom by the time he came back from checking on it- Choking on your sobs as you held your knees to your chest
- He instantly dropped to the floor, sliding over to you and grabbing your cheeks, trying to get you to look at him.
- “Hey, hey, Mc, oh god, are you hurt? Are you okay?”
- “S-S-Someones after you-”
- “No, no honey, no they’re not, It was just a toy, I promise, I checked everything, It was just a toy.”
- “No no, shhh, shh, oh god I’m so sorry.”
- He held you to him, rocking you back and forth as he repeatedly told you step by step of what had happened. Explaining all the little details he did to absolutely make sure no one was after him.
- After ten minutes like this, your death-like grip on his shirt loosened, and he pulled back a bit.
- You were breathing almost normally, tears dripping slower, and he just kissed them all away.
- It was difficult, but he managed to pull you up and get you back onto the bed, where he instantly wrapped the both of you up tightly in the big fluffy blanket he had.
- He spent the night muttering loving things to you until you could fall asleep, so happy to be able to calm you down that much.
- V was one of the calmest people you had met
- He was so sweet, so caring, so soft spoken
- But one day you accidentally knocked over a plant of his- Completely ruining it and it’s pot.
- The both of you bent down to clean the shards up, but with a hiss he accidentally had cut his hand
- At the sight of blood you lost it
- You managed to hurt him, just like Rika had
- You managed to cause him pain, something you never ever wanted to do in your life time
- He didn’t deserve it anymore, he didn’t
- It took you a while to focus back on reality. Honestly, just thirty seconds, but you felt trapped in your mind for much longer than that.
- With his free hand he cupped your cheek, pressing his thumb against your lips
- “Shh, you didn’t hurt me. It was an accident. When she did it, it wasn’t an accident.”
- Oh god you were talking outloud. Oh my god. You started shaking, but he hushed you again.
- “Mc, shh. Focus, focus. There’s a towel in the kitchen. Get that for me, please.”
- You scrambled to your legs, nearly knocking oer a kitchen chair as you grabbed the towel.
- The whole time he dabbed at his hand, you felt your head point and static ring in your ears- And you swore you could feel static rubbing against your brain.
- His lips were moving,and it was so damn hard for you to focus at first
- “Mc? Look, it’s a very small cut, not deep at all. It won’t even leave a scar, okay?”
- Once the blood was wiped off, it…It really did look small.
- You started breathing a bit easier, your breath hitching a bit, as he pushed the broken pieces of the pot aside and carefully led you to the couch
- He held you against him, peppering your forehead and head with kisses, repeating over and over how it was just an accident.
- It would take a while for you to calm down, but when you did, he gave you such a warm, sweet, small smile
- “Mc, you are the greatest person to ever grace me. I promise, you could never hurt me like that. I love you, okay?”
- You woke up already in a panic, lingering memories running down your spine
- You already couldn’t breathe. You were trying to suck in enough air but it wasn’t helping
- With constantly shaking hands, you reached out to Saeran, who was laying on his back and deep asleep
- You shook him, one…Two…Three times. He didn’t wake up yet, and you were freaking out so bad you had already started crying
- You gave him a harsher shake, and he groaned and finally blinked a bit. Rubbing his eye he turned to look at you, then froze.
- “I-I I can’t think right I can’t stop shaaking-”
- Without any prompting, he instantly pulled you to him, burying your face in his chest as he just wrapped his arms around you.
- He held your head against him, just trying to make you feel safer and stop shaking. It took a while, but eventually your body stopped trembling so harshly
- “Mc, what happened?”
- “B-Bad dream. Bad bad dream.”
- He didn’t laugh, he didn’t make fun of you. He kissed your head and started rubbing your back, repeating “You’re okay” over and over, until his warmth and voice was all you could focus on.
- He didn’t stop until he knew you were asleep. He pulled away a bit, situating the two of you into a much comfortable position, before kissing your head and going back to sleep with you firmly in his arms.
Sam kissed Dean for the first time when he was
time you tried some beer, right kiddo? Dean had
grinned as he’d put a sixpack on the table and flopped down onto the motel room’s
couch. Two beers in, and Sam’s liquid courage had him crawling onto Dean’s lap,
nuzzling against Dean’s warm throat, breathing in the intoxicating scent of his
big brother. “Dean,” he’d mumbled, sheer want
bleeding into his voice, and Dean had gone stiff with resistance beneath him.
The Three Mistakes Of Wen Junhui (Minghao/The8 and Jun x Male Reader Threesome)
The Three Mistakes Of Wen Junhui (And One Really Great Decision)
Word Count: 6.4k
Summary: Jun has no idea how he’s gotten himself into this mess (but he really, really likes it).
(A/N: This is officially the longest and filthiest thing I have ever written. I’d be ashamed of how shameless it is but I spent a really long time on it… I’m sorry for deviating so much from the original prompt but I had a lot of fun writing it, so… I hope you all enjoy it! ~Finn)
(Warnings: Daddy/Master kink, slut-shaming, blowjobs, spitroasting, Extreme Gay™, overstimulation, double penetration, Minghao is a little shit, awkwardness towards the end)
(Admin Note: my beautiful son has done it again. I cannot even begin to express how blown away I am by this and by all of his work - he’s gonna one-up me on my own blog if I’m not careful. (I’m gonna need to post some life ending smut soon to top this. cause this is pretty damn life ending). just. Finn. wow. gonna steal my Golden Dick award. damn. a Momma has never been more proud. -Tanisha<3)
The car is quiet. Jun stirs imperceptibly, becoming aware of the silence from his earphones and a low murmuring voice from somewhere just behind him – are those Chinese words?
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader, Castiel x Reader (slight, not really)
Warnings: Possessed Reader
gets possessed and tells Dean lies about reader&cas just to hurt
him, but then cas comes and exorcises the demon and Dean thinks that
what the demon said was true (bc of huggin etc) but then time skip
reader tells the truth about her feelings?
“Do you think she’d ever have feelings for you? Dean Winchester?” she scoffed, spite in her voice but Dean couldn’t bring himself entirely to hate it because it was your face, it was your voice, it was your eyes- your everything that he actually loved. He couldn’t bring himself to be strong an face the monster because he was actually facing the woman he loved more than anything. She laughed. But it was not the same laugh that would usually make his heart skip a beat because unfortunately it was no longer you that laughed.
“Like hell” she scoffed “She’d rather kill herself than fall for you, much less get any closer as far as a relationship is concerned.” she said in a hiss “You’re one big damn flaw, Dean. Broken, in every possible way. You are a mess, a man with daddy issues, womanizer and an alcoholic. What would she ever want to do with you?” she scoffed and Dean swallowed down the lump in his throat.
He fought so hard to not let it show how much your words were getting to him.Because he knew it wasn’t yours words exactly it was her words because she was the one speaking. But in the very end she was inside you, she could see all of your thoughts and feelings. How could Dean be sure she was only lying to him?
“Shut up.” Dean growled, his hands not even flexing to throw the holly water at you like he would do with any other demon. He couldn’t bring himself to hurt you not even when it wasn’t actually you.
This definite has set up for OT4 potential because I can’t help myself, but the story itself WILL BE just Adrino/Ninoir with background Alyanette and unrequited Adrienette. Where it goes after that who know ^_^
anyways hope you enjoy part 1
It was all Alya’s fault.
To be fair Adrien probably should have been paying better attention to the conversation around him, but still…
One minute he was happily enjoying his iced chai latte, distractedly scrolling through the Ladyblog and only catching every third word of his friends conversation and the next he was drenched in said Chai Latte stuttering and blushing like… well like Marinette. He still wasn’t sure what that was about.
The two had been arguing about flirting. Nino and Alya that is. Something about chickens… he really should have been paying more attention.
The important thing was he had not been prepared for his best friend to lean over and whisper “you know you are incredibly attractive right?”
Then came the blushing and the spilling of drinks.
Alya had doubled over laughing while Nino had helped attempt to clean up the mess. But even his traitorous best friend hadn’t bothered to hide the extremely satisfied gleam in his eyes.
The afternoon just got worse from there.
It started small. An innocent ruffling of his hair, sitting just a little too close in class. Little compliments messaged between their tablets when the teacher wasn’t looking. At first Adrien was flattered. It was always nice when his friends were affectionate. Given the lack of physical and vocal attention he got at home, Adrien was always desperate for more of the casual affection he saw his friends display so easily. Sadly he was still not secure enough to general initiate or ask for it himself.
Once class ended though it picked up to a whole new degree.
They had made plans before hand to go to the arcade together after school was out given Adrien’s surprisingly free schedule.
The had barely made it more than 10 steps from the school when he felt Nino casually lacing his finger through his own.
Adrien felt the blush returning with force while Nino continued his casual conversation with Alya, who shot them a glare before all but climbing on top of Marinette, who simply laughed and rolled her eyes before reaching back to toy with Alya’s hair.
It wasn’t that he disliked anything Nino was doing. In point of fact he rather enjoyed the increased affection more than he wanted to admit. He just wished he had any clue what was happening.
By the time they reached the arcade hand holding had morphed to Nino’s arm wrapped around his waist. At one point he was pretty sure Nino had sniffed his hair before commenting that ‘all those showers are paying off because you smell really good.’
Adrien was fairly certain that his make up artist was going to kill him because his face seemed to have morphed into a permanent shade of red. Of course there was also the chance that Alya would kill him first. She had been shooting daggers at them while Marinette giggled and occasionally whispered things into her ear.
“Ok,” Adrien asked when Alya and Nino disappeared off to get tokens, “what is going on today?”
Marinette raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
“What is with the two of them?” he gestured in the direction their friends had gone, “I mean you and Alya have been hanging all over each other- which is fine, I mean it’s not like it’s the first time but you are being kind of… extra, today. And Nino is… just what’s going on?”
Marinette’s expression morphed into a look of amused pity, not unlike the look Ladybug tended to shoot him after he had crashed headfirst into the pavement. It wasn’t very reassuring.
“Oh… weren’t you paying attention at lunch?”
“Yes… no… it wasn’t that interesting listening them to bicker about movie troupes so I kind of tuned them out.”
Marinette bite her lower lip in a clear attempt to bit back another giggle and Adrien felt his heart sink.
“So you’ve really have no clue what’s going on?” she asked.
Adrien said nothing, wondering if maybe his father had been right about sticking with home schooling.
“They’re playing chicken.”
“You have no idea what I am talking about do you,” Marinette sighed. “It’s a game… sort of. More like a contest. You try to see how far you can flirt with someone until you get scared and have to stop.” “Oh,” Adrien said softly, not sure what to make of the swell of disappointment he felt at her words. “So all of this was just a game?” He tried to keep his voice light, but he saw Marinette’s eyes widen in understanding.
“Well, yes and no,” she said hurriedly, “I mean part of the challenge is that it should be someone you actually like. Otherwise it’s too easy you know?”
Adrien gave her a somewhat pained smile, still not sure how he felt about this whole revelation.
“Honestly we thought you knew,” Marinette continued looking honestly concerned, “we just thought you were really bad at it.”
“Hey!” Adrien protested, although he felt his smile widen in genuine amusement at her guilty confession.
“Sorry,” she said, ducking her head in shame.
“Eh, it’s not your fault,” Adrien said “I should have realised something wasn’t right when Nino started flirting with me.”
Marinette stared at him. “Just how oblivious are you?” she blurted then immediately slammed a hand over her mouth.
“Seriously, what am I missing now?” Adrien sighed and trying to give Marinette his best puppydog expression. “Well I already told you- the game isn’t fun unless you are flirting with someone you are actually at least a little bit interested in,” she said, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear.
“Oh…” Adrien said stupidly. “Wait, so Alya… and you… did you know?”
Marinette gave him a bemused smile. “She isn’t exactly subtle, and this isn’t our first game of chicken.”
“Oh… so are you guys, like an official couple then?”
Marinette flushed. “It’s complicated.”
“Something holding you back?” Adrien asked curiously.
“Well that answers my question about how oblivious you are,” Marinette muttered, no longer meeting his gaze her cheeks still stained a charming shade of pink.
Before Adrien had a chance to ask her to elaborate on what THAT was about Nino and Alya came back with two cups full of coins.
“So what are you two kids talking about,” Alya said leaning over and giving Marinette an eskimo kiss which she happily returned.
“Marinette was explaining the finer points of chicken,” Adrien said.
“Oh, you told him? There goes half my fun,” Nino complained.
“Wait he didn’t know?” Alya said her eyes lighting up, “Well no wonder you were beating me so badly! You were basically playing on easy mode.”
“Hey,” Adrien sputtered indignantly feeling more than a little put out by this whole thing already, “maybe I will beat all of you at this game.”
All three of his friends gave him a wide eyed look before bursting out into laughter.
“Adrien you don’t flirt,” Alya said between chortles.
“Yeah dude,” Nino said slinging an arm over his shoulder, “don’t get me wrong you are adorable and I love you, but you are about as smooth as a cactus.”
Adrien glowered. “I can be smooth.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Marinette said soothingly, “besides as much as Alya hates to admit it, no one ever beats Nino at this game.”
“I will some day,” Alya said smirking at the boy in question.
“Is that a challenge?” Adrien asked looking at his gloating best friend.
“Its not a challenge bro. It’s just a fact,” he smiled, leaning in a little too close. Adrien forced himself to hold his ground.
“What if I like a challenge?”
“Trust me,” Nino continued with a smile, “there is nothing you could do that would phase me when I am involved in a game of chicken.
Adrien smiled as he got a terribly brilliant idea.
Warnings: Okay… So it starts of with SMUT - I know it’s weird to imagine yourself in Bucky’s body but I can’t see a way round it - there had to be a hand job. There’s also sexual content and swearing.
A/N: Well, riding on a wave of inspiration that hit me like a train yesterday here’s another big chapter from me. I hope this fic is still making you smile and want more?
After yet another awkward interaction with Steve, a cold shower sounded like a good option. You needed to calm down quickly, otherwise he’s only going to suspect something more serious is going on. And who knows how long you’d be able to keep up the pretences?
Physically - the cold shower seemed to help, but mentally - you still couldn’t shake off the constant dirty thoughts about Steve. Not sure how long this charade would continue, you needed to find a better way of managing your constant arousal. Maybe Bucky was right and you needed some release?
I should be asleep, but after knowing what I know, I HAD to write this.
I am a filthy Louper shipper DON’T LOOK AT ME
The last night.
Funny how it sounded so final.
Personally, Piper didn’t feel like it should be that big of a deal. It was just college. It wasn’t like she wouldn’t come home for the holidays. It wasn’t like she’d never see her family again, or her friends.
‘The last night’ didn’t mean ‘the end’…
She glanced over to her right, taking in the flash of white teeth as her best friend grinned at some joke his mother had just told about his wild child days, green eyes crinkling at the corners as he laughed raucously. Funny–they were both young adults now, but while Piper had to get reacquainted with herself with every year she grew older, it still felt like Louis hadn’t changed a bit.
[Running in the Village with Robert and Aaron who look unfairly adorable in their running gear *Fan Baiting Alert*] AARON: Why don’t you just go home Robert? You’re clearly not fit enough to keep up with me. (DANNY: Plus, Ryan, I know your knee is still bothering you and I can’t watch you limp anymore, bro) ROBERT: No Aaron, you’re my number one priority, so I must be seen doing these kinds of activities with you. If you’re going to be doing an activity that you’ve previously used as a method of self harming I have to appear willing to go with you to keep an eye on you. Plus, I need a reason to be outside right now. (RYAN: It’s getting better, honest. Nice that they keep giving me all these scenes where I have to walk and run though. But hey, at least the plot says I get to stop for now) *Two lines of cute banter* - for the fans ROBERT: Go on Aaron, I have a plot cramp. I’ll catch you up. AARON: Doubt it.
[In the Village with Robert and Rebecca. Swing set clearly shown as Robert walks by…as if the audience needed a reminder] ROBERT: Have you done the thing I’m forcing you to do yet? I have my evil reputation to keep up. REBECCA: Later today, as you asked. I am deeply conflicted about this. Doesn’t it show? ROBERT: What time is it exactly? I need to know so I can stalk you later and make sure you really did the thing. REBECCA: *Shows appointment on phone* There you go. Happy stalking! Oh and just to give you another opportunity to sound like a jerk, happy now? ROBERT: I will be when it’s done. (Thanks, I needed that. I wasn’t sure my jerkish side was properly showing in this scene yet)
It’s almost midnight, but you aren’t tired. When you order another piece of cake, Jason, a guy who has been a fellow initiate, sits beside you. You keep quiet, eating and laughing at Kevin’s jokes, the man who’s working at the bar.
“This one was great, right, (Y/N)?”
“One of your best, K.” You admit.
“I haven’t seen you around lately.”
You look at Jason with a small fake smile. “I’ve been busy.”
“Leadership, I know. And there comes another one.” He tilts his head to the other side of the small bar, to Eric, your lovely coworker. He sits away from you, well, he rather stays away from anyone.
“Yeah,” you say, trying to make him see that you don’t wanna talk. You heard about Jason. Always mean and cruel. Not that different from Eric, you’re aware, but Jason was a shameful fighter. You were feeling sick just to hear him breathe.
“Where you’re living now?”
“Where the leaders use to live.” It’s Eric who answers. You look at him, with a confused expression on your face. You didn’t know he was paying attention.
“Wasn’t talking to you.”
“You can take his answer as mine.”
“I thought you didn’t need someone to talk for you, (Y/N).” Jason’s smile makes you push away your piece of cake and get up.
“I rather not to talk to you.”
“Why? We have nothing to lose. I’m single and so are you. And we’re in the best place in the world”
“Are you crazy?” You turn to him again, with both your hands on your hips.
“What’s wrong with you? You’re Dauntless now. What’s wrong with a one night stand?”
“Being Dauntless doesn’t mean she has to be stupid like you.” Eric stands up and speaks before I can even think of a good answer.
“Excuse me?” You whisper to him.
“Shut up, let me deal with him,” Eric whispers back. You gasp in shock. What’s happening with him?
“Why is he defending you?” Jason stands up too, and you feel the tension between the men.
“I don’t know. Now, kids, go to sleep.”
“Sure. My offer is up if you want.”
“She won’t be your one night stand.” The anger on Eric’s voice makes you grab his arm and pull him out the bar.
You don’t care about what’s wrong with Eric tonight, but you don’t want any problems. You let him go as soon as you’re out, but he keeps following you through the compound. Both of you live on the same corridor, but your apartment is slightly far from his. You stop next to your door and turn on your heels to face Eric.
“Tell me what the hell was that, would you?”
“Jason has caused enough problems. And I heard he impregnated a girl who’s raising the kid alone. I don’t want this for you.” Eric sounds weird. A weight on his voice, something you never heard before.
“Why do you even care? You insult me and shout at me whenever you can. Why do you care now? ” You try your best to stay still and don’t let him notice that your hopes are getting high. Since your initiation, you’re completely in love with the bastard, even though he has many flaws you can’t stand. But you also try to keep both feet on the ground.
“You’re right. I shouldn’t care. You didn’t even say thank you.” He looks at the ground and then turns to leave, but you won’t let him go without an explanation. No one, not even Eric, is allowed to mess with your life and leave like it was nothing. You walk fast until you’re before him, staring into those icy blue eyes.
“Thank you,” you whisper. You never had the chance to stay that close to him, and to be honest, the man is even more handsome than you thought. You lose your breath for a second.
“You’re welcome. Will you let me go now? ”
“What do you want?”
“Sorry.” You gather all the courage you have and pull him to you by the collar of his coat.
Kissing Eric is an old fantasy, and right now, you couldn’t let the chance slip through your fingers. You kiss him quickly, pulling away before he gets mad.
“Sorry.” You mutter again.
He smiles at you, amused, and you look down.
“That was interesting,” Eric says before leaning close and capturing you in a slowly kiss, something you never expected from him since he was all about roughness. After a while, you both pull away to breathe, but he keeps you close.
“Well, that was interesting. You were jealous.” You whisper, a small smile on your lips.
“Yes. That guy will never get anywhere near you again.”
It reminded Harry eerily
like a certain event in his fifth year but he couldn’t bring himself to
remember what it was.
It was painful.
It was exhilarating.
It was Draco’s best
nightmare and worst dream – a fantasy that he thought would only play inside of
It was their eighth year
and they were done with the war, the pain, the torment and the tension. When
they first locked eyes from across the hall, Harry attempted to scowl, Draco
attempted to sneer. But the exhaustion that hit them both at just the attempt
to maintain their rivalry was too much. Instead, they looked away with a sigh.
The beginning of the year
passed by without much interruption. The civility between them rose to a level
of acquaintanceship and before long, glares in the hall turned into ‘Hello
Malfoy’, which quickly morphed into ‘Good morning Harry’s.’
The school slowly began
its recovery just as theirs did.
Of course, things would
never stay that smooth.
Things never did.
“Fuck,” Draco gasped as
teeth bit down at the junction of his neck, leaving a mark that would be
visible without a doubt. Fear lanced up his body at the aspect of people seeing,
people knowing. His hands scrabbled for purchase on Harry’s back, gripping at a
robe that was slipping off of his shoulders anyway. “Har- Harry-“ His voice
The other boy’s hands
were on a mission to touch everywhere, discover everything. He could hear the
tears in Draco’s words and he knew exactly why they were there, but he couldn’t
bring himself to care.
It was one thing to pull
Harry into this mess that Draco called a crisis. It was another thing to drag
him down with him.
The kisses were hot and
heavy, the touches scorched Draco’s body hotter than a dragon’s breath. He
squirmed away at every grasp and scrape but then his body would arch forward
again, thrusting himself back into Harry’s waiting arms. He tried to turn his
head away from Harry’s questing lips but his own would eventually find their
way back to the other’s, joining in a lustful explosion that tasted like Harry, Harry, Harry.
He was crying because it
hurt. The nails on his body, the feel of the rough stone against his back, the
knowledge that he couldn’t.
He could not.
But Harry’s kisses made
him lose his mind and with each husky whisper of his name, Draco was whimpering
all over again, pulling the saviour of the wizarding world even closer to him.
His father would kill
him, the world would scorn him, he would immediately be disowned. His mother
would hate him, his friends would shun him, and his future career would be
thrown out the window. His morality was shattered, his ideals destroyed and a
possible heir would be impossible.
It was a mess.
It was a mess.
It was a glorious mess
that made Draco want to rip his heart out because he couldn’t understand why
someone could be so addicting – why someone could make him feel so whole yet so disgusting.
“Draco, do you-“
“Yes,” he moaned without even letting the other one finish, pushing
himself forward without shame or thought. “Please.”
He didn’t know what he
was expecting but he should have.
Draco should have known that Harry, swept up in a whirlwind of emotions just as
he was, wouldn’t stop to ask once more just to be sure. Instead, he felt hands
at his belt, fumbling.
A zipper, a plunge, a
Immediately, Draco pushed
Harry away, gasping at the sudden invasion. The bespectacled boy fell away so
brusquely that his back collided with the opposite wall of the alcove.
They had kissed plenty of
times but never before did they go this far. Draco always assumed that Harry
was still trying to figure himself out and that he understood the turmoil that
was going through Draco’s mind. He didn’t think- He didn’t think-
He didn’t think-
“Draco, what the hell?”
“No, fuck, you need to
figure this out.” The problem was hit head on.
He looked just as
distressed as Draco felt and the Slytherin gripped his fists tight as he tried
to battle the rising emotions within him.
“You know that I can’t,”
he said, forcing his voice to stay as firm as possible.
Harry ran his fingers angrily
through his hair, shooting Draco a glare. “Well you need to!” He exclaimed. “We
can’t keep doing this- this,” he waved his hand at Draco, “This whole pity
thing whenever we get together!”
Draco stilled at the
“You keep coming to me or
you don’t push me away but each time it happens you start panicking! You have
to figure out what you want from us because there’s only so much I can take
when I want to be with you and all you give me in return is an existential
“Harry-“ He tried to say
but the other boy’s heated glare stopped him in his tracks.
“I get that you think we’re
a disgrace to society. But you know what that means? You’re calling me repulsive. And you know what? By the
looks of you right now, I don’t think you were thinking me repulsive just a few
seconds ago. You have more sense in you than to be a fucking hypocrite and of
all the things in the world, I never expected Draco sodding Malfoy to cry so
much when he kisses.”
“It’s not my bloody
fault!” Draco finally yelled back in return, slamming his fist against the wall
behind him. “It’s not my bloody fucking fault that my father will kill me if he
knew. It’s not my fault that I was raised up in a way to believe that this is
completely wrong! It’s not my-“
Harry cut in by shoving a
finger into Draco’s chest. “It is
your fucking fault if you think that dragging me along with promises of
figuring yourself out is anywhere close to okay! I get that you feel like your
world’s crashing down on you but Draco, it’s
not! And I don’t deserve to be used as a way to release your pent up
sadness and anger if you don’t take my
feelings into account!”
Draco stared with wide
eyes as Harry’s own seemed to take on flames not of passion, but of fury. He had
seen the other boy this mad before but at a time where they hated each other.
To see it again seemed like a curse straight to the heart.
“Let me help you! But don’t let me help you by
being your emotional toy. You don’t think I’m trying to discover this myself?
Draco, I like you,” he said earnestly but with distress in his voice. “I like
you but I’m not going to let myself become miserable just because you can’t
make up your mind on whether or not you think I’m worth it or just a gross pastime.”
He wasn’t, though. Harry
himself could never be gross. Harry was perfect and Draco had to tell him, tell
him that he was perfect, show him that with maybe just a bit of time he could
“But so far all I’ve
gotten was that you love the physical stuff and are completely blindsiding the
emotional part of this. And I don’t want to deal with that.”
The other boy stepped
back, pain in his eyes but determination in his form. “No, Draco. Figure it
out. I’m not going to figure it out for you.”
Fear flared within Draco’s
chest as he reached out in order to grasp his arm, anything to make Harry stay,
to let him hear his explanation.
But his world shattered
when Harry purposefully twisted away, shaking his head.
“Draco, this needs to
“I’ve given you so many
chances. I’ve tried to talk to you.
I know, but-
“But if you’re not happy
with who you are,”
I AM, Harry, please-
“Then I can’t be happy
AN: So this is dedicated to many of my lovely new friends. It’s late and i’ll add the tags of your guys’ blogs tomorrow but you know who you are.