#- aside from being deeply flattered by the shout out

[muchtodoonterror]

excellent tags via @boogiewoogieweeb

and I wonder if Heather had lived - Tozer has that weight on his conscience and already feels in adequate to his task. Heather's loss has started to unpick the seams of his confidence in command's ability to keep them alive. If that hadn't happened, would Tozer have been been more able to take the shock of finding the ruins of Fairholme's party? Would he have been more able to understand why Crozier wanted it kept secret? It's almost like he's been so completely disillusioned, he doesn't understand why the others should be protected from the grimmest parts of their situation. I think finding Fairholme is what finally turned him, and if his faith in both himself and his captain hadn't been so shaken...... well, as you say, how differently could it all have gone?

It also would have radically changed his take on the need to haul the sick... with Heather there is hope. But if Heather couldn't be saved, could anyone? If that's where trying to save Heather got him, why bother?

If Heather hadn't died at Carnivale, Tozer would've hauled Heather across King William Land until he dropped in harness himself. If he had no boat to haul him in he would've thrown him over his shoulder in a fireman's carry and marched.

[first-edition]

Fox and the Hound

Sum-Joffrey wants to send a message to your family after your brother embarrasses him, so he marries you off to his most unwanted man in his court, the hound. But will this marriage truly be a statement for an eyesore, or will it grow into something more. 

Cw for chapter- pregnancy, 18+ words and themes overall, Child Birth, Description of childbirth, Angst. Gender reveal!!!

// A/N: just wanted to apologize for the broken links at the beginning of the book since i changed my username they haven’t been working but i assure you I’ll get to fixing them. I will also end up making a goggle docs with the entire book for downloading when this series ends//

previous chapter here.

CHAPTER 21

Winter fell as cold as it maybe in the middle of winter, is not nearly as cold as castle black, being on the absolute edge of the frozen waste land. You do not have to layer as much and once in a while a spot of sun peaks in from the frozen clouds. 

Although there is far less to do now with a full staff you still find a way to enjoy yourself. Playing little games with Sansa, or reading books from the library. You even enjoy watching joss spire with podrick as they’ve spent more time together, though you’ve been avoiding his lady Brienne of Tarth. 

You do so now as you watch the two of them spire with wooden swords as they laugh.

”your grace. It is an honor to speak to you once more now so at such a high standing.” A familiar graining voice hits your ears as lord petyr Baelish, little finger walks up beside you. 

“Lord Baelish..” you say he nods a bit before opening his mouth and speaking once again. 

“I want to personally apologize for the loss of your husband, Ser clegane. you are far too young and beautiful to be subject to widowing status.” He says. 

”you flatter me.” You say dully. Not really interested in what he has to say. 

“I try my best as i-“ 

“What do you want lord Baelish.” You interrupt him. 

“Nothing your grace, except for your happiness and safety.” He answers. 

“Mm I am safe. i'm surrounded by family and friends and I have joss and the other guards to protect me.” You speak.

“What about happy?” Baelish asks you turning his entire body to watch your facial expression drops. 

“Why arnt you happy? What do you want that you dont already ha-“ before he can continue his words you cut him off Turing your head to look his straight in the eyes. A sort of anger burning within. 

“My husband.” You speak plainly starring daggers into his soul. Heavy footstep sound through the frozen boards of the deck behind you interrupt the conversation. 

Baelish looks up slightly knowing its Breanne as she's the only as tall as where his gaze lands to be. Lord Bealish opens his mouth to speak but you interrupt him before he gets the chance. 

“No need to grab the last word my lord…i will assume it is something clever..” you say turing your focus back to the landscape. 

He huffs before speaking. 

“My lady…your Grace.” He says and turns before taking his leave away from 

you. 

“Your Grace-“ Brienne begins. 

“I dont wish to speak to you.” You say as you turn walking down the platform

“Your Grace please, if you’d just allow me to apologize!.” She calls out to you following you. 

“What part about i do not wish to speak to you do you not understand?! I do not want to speak to you? Should i say it plainly for you to understand, shall i have to shout it out to you?!” You bark at her angrily. She drops, kneeling beneath you. 

“Your Grace please. I am deeply sorry that the fate of your husband was met by my hands. If i had known-“ 

“If you had known that it was my husband would you have ceased your actions? Or would you continue to ‘protect’ the stark girls. From any a threat?” You huff out.

��She dosnt speak just keeps her head low. Your anger is pushed aside by a painful flare as your hand places itself on your belly. 

“I know there might never be a state of pardon for my actions tword your family but i rest assure you i will do anything and everything in my power you try and make up for the loss.” She says you place your hand on her shoulder not as a console but to keep yourself steady as another pain passes through you rendering your knees to almost buckle. 

“Your grace..?” Brienne looks up at you seeing you in pain. 

She stands and takes hold of you to help steady yourself. You gather up your skirt slightly to see blood and liquid.

“Fuck..the babe is coming.” You say looking up to her.

”w-what? Are you quite certain?!” She asks worriedly. Another uncomfortable pain pulls through your body as it nearly takes you out. 

”JOSS! JOSS!” Brienne yells he looks up and drops everything running as fas as he can up the steps to you both. 

“The babe is arriving get the midwife and maester NOW!” Brienne yells at him. 

“Ive got you your grace. Can you take steps?” She asks you nod taking a few steps before the pain buckles under you. 

“Its alright.” Brienne says before carefully lifting you up into her arms hurriedly but carefully carrying you to your chambers when your ladies in waiting arrange everything as best as they can. 

”my lady.” You hear joss's voice as the master and the midwife rush in. 

“GET HIM OUT!” You yell 

“come along joss.” Brienne says. 

“NO! Him!” You yell about the maester not wanting to be examined or touched by a man, maester or otherwise. 

“Your grace i do not think-“ the master is interrupted by another groan of pains from you before Brienne shoves his out of the room. your ladies help out of your restricting dress leaving you in your under dress. 

“Your grace you need to lay down so i may examine you.” The midwife speaks. You let out a shaky breath as you take to the bed and lay back. Brienne closes the door and her and joss stand on either side of it watching outwards. 

————

Your groans and screams of pain can be heard through almost every part of the castle, leaving everyone to stop in their business and wait in hopes for a baby's cry. 

You hold onto Lucy’s hand and the side post of the bed as you endure the worst physical pain. She tells you words of encouragement, but you know something is wrong as tears pour down your cheeks. 

“no… NO NO!” You scream.

“It’s alright your grace.” Lucy says pleading with you.

“n-no no.. something’s w-wrong.” You panicing, shaking.

“he should be out by now…something….s-someth-AHH!” You scream the pain overwhelming you.

You let go of her hand as you pull away and move to stand up. 

“Y/n?!” She protests. 

“let me up!” You say to your midwife. 

“Your grace you need stay.” she says. 

“UP!” You yell they nod and help you up the only thing covering your nude body is the blood stained cotton sheet wrapped around you. Yet even that falls to floor as you hobble to the edge of the room lucy following close behind waiting for any moment.

“Your grace you need to push!” One midwife says you lean forward against a table holding your self up looking down as blood drips onto the stone flooring. The weight of your self fall in as you drop to you knees.

“NO NO PLEASE!” You scream at your unborn child 

You scream as the pain surged through your body. You hand grips side of the chair so tightly your knuckles turn white and and the skin peels back on your palm. You scream murder into the air as your lungs burn. 

Your arms and legs shake leaving your muscles to ache. Sweat pours through your skin. Your vision is blurred, stained with teary eyes shut tight. Your hands and legs bloodied the fear you’ll die during this. A rush of the last bit of pain follow through your body. As you look down between your legs seeing a baby, purplish pink and pale only slightly misshapen from the effects of birth. 

Your midwife runs to you checking on you briefly before taking a hold of the baby and taking a towel to it before tying off the cord. Your worry fills your heart as you were told a healthy baby is supposed to cry. But just as your worry was placed it fades with the loud and hearty cry of your child. 

you sigh in relief as you sucsesfully gave birth but a soreness washes over over as the other women help you up and back to the bed to help ease the after birth. As your child is placed in your arms. 

“Its a boy your grace, you have a son.”

You cant help but begin to sob as he rests in a towel and blanket in your arms. You shakily breath trying to catch your breath from crying and the after birth pains. But they soon go away as your focus on your sons face is so perfectly combined of yours and sandors. He has his fathers hair color, but for now he looks like a chubby little new born baby, early, tiny but healthy. You can hear slight cheering outside your door from those celebrating the new prince's arrival. 

“May i get him cleaned up your grace?” Your midwife asks. You nod, handing him back to her carefully as she takes his aside in the room to begin cleaning him up a bit. 

“Well done.” Lucy says giving you a hug you hug her back. She helps you up a bit so they can help clean you off change the bed sheets and change out of wear putting you in something comfortable before making sure any residual bleeding will be taken care of. 

You rest in bed as the wife gives him back to you now all cleaned in the tiny nightclothes and a blanket. Fore the first time out side of his safe place in your womb, he has his first meal as he latches onto your breast with ease. 

Once hes done and you’ve rested you allow them all to vist first Sansa runs into your room and is in absolute awe of him his little hand gripping her finger. 

“Y/n he’s precious.” She says you smile proudly at what you and sandor created. 

“Hes going to grow into a strong man just like his father your grace.” The midwife says smiling. You nod a bit sad. 

“If only he were here.” You say. Sansa gives you a reassuring smile. 

“Lucy? Will you let joss in please?” You ask she nods and goes to the door opening it as joss enters. 

“Your grace.” Joss says giving you a smile. 

“Come here, come meet the little prince.” You say he smiles and hurries over to you leaving over as you show him your son. He smiles at the baby. 

“Hes got the lord cleganes hair.” He chuckles making you laugh and nod. 

“Would you like to hold him?” You ask. He looks worried at first but you place him into his arms and he holds him perfectly. 

“Oh. Have you thought up any name?” Sansa asks. 

“I did. I was thinking maybe i should name his after his father carryon the sandor clegane second of his name…” you trail off. 

“Perfect name your grace.” Joss says as he admires the little human in his arms. 

“Indeed…but then I remembered someone whose name I would love more for my son to have than his fathers…Joss.” You say. 

“Hmm?” Joss asks, humming as hes still glued to the baby. Sansa giggles as he hasn’t figured it out.  He looks to you confused for a split second before you nod to your son. His eyes begin to well up in with tears. 

“Wh-what?” He asks. 

You smile at him nodding. 

“Joss Dortain clegane.” You speak your brothers name as your sons middle. 

“Your gr- y/n. Im so honored.”he says you smile to him opening your arms and giving him a hug your son still in his arms. 

NEXT CHAPTER HERE

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Taglist @stephyshadows@germansarechill@urfavbiscuit@daphneyblue@takemeaemond@holb32@allison-119@pxstelink@imsolonelyimissyou@myshitaccount@broadsdrinkwhisky@@evie-beanie@eulysa23-2@greeknymph18@rudiruds@ex160-blog1@im-an-assho1e@chompwoman@heartb8k2@lovely--lover ex160-blog1 @midnightprocrastinator @haus-of-a-thousand-fandoms @friendlyspacemartian

[cartoon-buffoon]

Recently I was watching one of my favorite Sonictubers playing Alex Kidd, a different Sega game. Anyways I deeply love this YouTuber's content, I'm a regular in their stream and my first ever piece of proper digital art was fanart for them (oh god this drawing sucks but looking at this you can tell I HAVE improved!)

Anyways shitty fanart of their character getting robbed by Fang The Sniper aside, in the Alex Kidd playthrough they call me out by name? Obviously it's in a joking manner and their shout-out to me is just a brief gag but they do say "shout out to Toon Buffoon" (high-key check out this channel, it does good Sonic reviews and the characters have lore within the reviews). But yeah, watch the video for yourself and see, THEY DO SHOUT ME OUT! Upon hearing this the first time I was shocked and as you can see by my comment I'm beyond flattered and it was this that made me realize I've made an impact on at least a few people?

Like I owe a lot to SpinyNorman and his YouTube channel. That fanart I made above was something I did with my fingers whilst waiting to receive meds yet I decided to share it with him, he complimented it, and that inspired me to draw more and actually have fun with it. I don't just wanna strictly talk about my favorite YouTuber though and getting back to what I said: my support of this FAIRLY SMALL CREATOR and their great content (seriously go watch their vids if you like Sonic) made me go "people register I exist...". Like, this may sound I'm fucking with you but I genuinely cannot fathom the idea people are aware of me and my dumbass existence. From my name being shouted out, to the new followers here on Tumblr, to a few comments over on my AO3 it makes me genuinely happy. When I started posting stuff I was an socially anxious wreck, now while I still am I can't help but be thankful for all the people I may have left an impression on to the point they register me as somebody. Whether this be my uhh, fanfics, or maybe it's just me cheering someone up, or something else I did that left an impression, some people DO see my name and or pfp and think "oh it's that one fella" and that makes me happy. I'm thankful I can be of entertainment and or camaraderie, if you're a person I met on here I can't thank you enough for whatever interactions we may have had (its mainly two people, Mr-Pgeon and SkitSwap, shout out to them), still I have interacted with others.

Sorry if this is nonsensical because my ADHD and emotions are working in unison to make a lot of this rant detached, but my point is: THANKS! I can't fathom the idea people like me and honestly when I made this Tumblr it was during a time when I was genuinely contemplating killing myself (I still contemplate it, just less now). Now of course my IRL friends have gotten me through rough times, shout out to my betas Z and Quartz, however the people I've met online have also helped me. Knowing what I do has left an impact, a positive one at that, makes me happy. Whether it be cheering somebody's art on, having them enjoy one of my fics, or perhaps talking, I'm glad to not have ended myself and I really do wish to keep on going and keep creating so I can hopefully make more people's days in the future. Sorry if this sentimental, I'll probably go back to talking about how I want a variety of cartoon rabbits to bang me soon, but I still just wanna say thanks ❤️.

[little-earthquakes-rp]

Bio’s & Verses

Verse: Main Name: Etta Fiske Age: 24 Occupation: Bakery Location: Long Beach, CA

TW: Domestic Abuse, Suicide mention, & miscarriage 

Etta Fiske was born into what appeared to be a normal American family. Her parents, Martin and Arianna Fiske were an older couple, but very much in love. It was obvious from an early age that their little daughter had a gift for music. Wanting to nurture that aspect her parents enrolled her in piano lessons at the age of five. While her parents loved her deeply they were overprotective which eventually led to Etta being overly sheltered. Throughout school, she kept to herself, something that would eventually lead to a crippling social anxiety. The young girl had a difficult time looking people in the eye or holding conversations. As she grew up she was bullied by her peers who found flaws in everything from her red hair to her pale skin. If that wasn’t bad enough Etta didn’t care too much about keeping up with the popular styles and would just be happy with clothes picked up from a thrift store or a garage sale which only added to the misery at school as they often teased her about being poor; despite her parents being middle class. By the time she hit high school, she was quite tall and awkward as puberty seemed to hold out until the last possible minute. If the cruel ridicule was difficult in middle school by the time she hit high school it was too much to bear. When lying down at night all she could hear was the shouts and taunts.  Eventually, those voices won as she tried to commit suicide her senior year.

She was found in the girl’s bathroom at school by the gym teacher and rushed to a hospital. The attempt made things tense between her and her parents, and when she returned back to school she heard many whispers in the halls that she had done it for attention. Etta continued to struggle, but finished out and graduated with her class.

It was over the summer she took time to carefully measure her next step. She knew music was the one thing she loved and was appreciated for by others. Feeling the itch to get out of town she headed two hours north to a small school. It was there something remarkable happened; the bullying which seemed to be relentless back home had completely vanished. Unfortunately, her past made her feel socially inept to handle new people who tried to befriend her. Deciding to work on herself, she began to see a therapist by the name Caleb Moreno. He was immediately taken with her quiet, gentle nature in a matter of months he began to pursue her romantically during their sessions. She had never had a man pay so much attention to her, aside from her father. His attention was flattering and it stirred something in her, and for the first time, he made her feel as if she was deserving of love and affection. Caleb could give her something she had never had before – a sexual relationship. She was hesitant to take that step with him but he did not give up, and after time she decided he was the one.

Caleb changed shortly after they became intimate. He started to become possessive and began to track her time and insisted she move into his home. Much to the credit of the controlling therapist she was not only getting used to being social and enjoying it, but now that Caleb had her he didn’t want to share. The abuse started verbally but soon after turned physical. Her love for him waned, and she made attempts to leave, but he would beat her for even trying. Eventually, she obtained a degree in music and a certification for teaching, but he made it very clear she was not to make use of it. A few years later when she found out she was pregnant. The pregnancy only made Caleb angrier and eventually he beat her so badly she miscarried. Etta’s hopes of having a child and a person in her life who would love her without condition were ripped from her that night.

Once healed, she went to see her father. Her mother had already passed and Martin was getting on in years. He wanted so badly to help his precious little girl that he did the only thing he could think of. He told her the truth about having a brother out in California and told her to run as fast as she could. His name was Johnnie Fiske and he was pretty sure he still lived in Long Beach.

Making an attempt to do something for herself in this life, Etta has fled Florida on the search for the brother she never knew she had. She waited till Caleb went into the office to pack up her 94’ Jetta with some clothes and a few small cherished belongings, her kitten Brahms, and a face full of bruises. Leaving mostly everything she ever knew behind she actually has hope in the future because she is finally making choices based on the things she wants, and not what everyone else expected of her. For the first time on her own the only thing she has is a name and an address

Verse: Post-Apocalyptic Z-Day   Name: Etta Fiske  Age: 27 Occupation: Farmer/Botanist  Location: Mid-West

TW: Suicide Mention 

While she would never admit to before Z-day happened, growing up on a farm certainly had its advantages. As a youth, she couldn’t wait to be away from the life that woke her at the crack of dawn with the intention of getting chores done before leaving for school. A lot of that time was spent daydreaming of faraway places like bustling cities or a suburbia really any place but the farm. When the time came she ran off to university in one of those big cities with the expectation of studying chemistry, but found herself graduating with a degree in botany: it was just in her blood.

Postgrad she worked in a hydroponics plant but grew bored within a few years. Her disenchantment with life was only coupled further after a failed engagement. When her mother sent word that her father’s health was failing she knew it was time to head home. Part of her was content that her father was gone before the disease spread throughout the world. Etta and her mother stayed held up along with others that had flocked to the farm for a bit; however, as their numbers grew they were having difficulty sustaining.  

On a quiet morning, Etta returned from her chores and was surprised to not find her mom in the kitchen cooking up breakfast. Heading towards her bedroom she stopped outside the door and knocked. When nothing was heard she tried to swing open the door but felt some resistance. Finding it concerning she pushed harder and squeezed herself in the space allotted. Much to her horror, she saw her mother’s body swaying-hanging from a rope. It was too horrific to even scream Etta just shut down and shook her head as warm tears fell from her eyes. Walking over she sat down on her mother’s unslept-in bed. It was all too much.

Etta walked out of the room and out the house and grabbed a motorbike which one of the survivors had ridden in on. She left that farm that morning and has no intention of heading back.

[angelamajiki]

Damn that Bully Dabi and Hawks fic was an amazing read! I love it when you write them full on bastard mode!

Pro Hero Bakugou sexually harassing his weak quirkless secretary who does her very best at her job. She's good at it but Bakugou always looks mad (read: sexually frustrated). High on success after a good rescue, he wants to celebrate....

OR

Cop Bakugou sees a pretty little thing outside a club. She looks sus so he decides she needs a pat down. Maybe he'll plant something to blackmail her into doing certain favors. Very bully, very bastard Bakugou.

PARINGS: Pro Hero! Bakugou x Secretary! Quirkless! AFAB! Reader

CW: yandere, dubcon/noncon, dirty talk, choking, cunnilingus, overstimulation, scumbage bakugou, use of the word rape, quirkless reader, size difference, age gap, death threats, sexual harrassment, bullying, mindbreak, masturbation, office sex

AN: I’ll probably write the cop Bakugo at some point too! For now, mind the tags and enjoy :)

They say to never meet your idols and in retrospect, you wished you would have listened.

Try as you might, it seemed like Mr. Dynamight was never satisfied with your work. Admittedly, you joined his agency as his office secretary based on having a crush on the pro, but you assumed his brash nature would calm down in an office setting. You did everything he asked, obediently followed his every word, which was all met with harsh glares and what you thought were dissatisfied grunts.

Surely you thought it wouldn't be about your being quirkless, but rumors were high strung in the office about the blonde’s feeling towards those without quirks. It would explain the harsh glares and judgment he passed on you despite your work effort.

The man even went as far as to ask for your personal phone number, only to leave scathing voicemails whenever you couldn't show up to work or miss out on work gatherings he put together. You couldn't help but flush at the thought of him missing your presence. Maybe you were just bad at reading his signals? Or maybe he was just hell-bent on bullying you more than the rest of the staff.

The job paid very well, so you couldn't exactly up and leave based on his behavior. However, you did notice how...handsy Mr. Dynamight has become with you. It was subtle at first, brushing shoulders in the hallways, letting his fingers ghost against yours when he handed you paperwork.

It soon escalated to always having a hand on your shoulder, holding your hips when he had to brush behind you, towering over you from behind your chair when you showed him something. You couldn't say that you weren't flattered, but his rough demeanor remained.

It started becoming uncomfortable when he made passes at you, making sure you were cornered and alone when he did.

“C’mon, am I really that fuckin’ intolerable that you can't get lunch with me, pipsqueak?”

You assumed that he was just messing with you, so you always turned him down with a flushed face and ran back to your desk, leaving him blue balled and more desperate by the day. There's no way a pro hero like him would actually be interested in someone quirkless and weak like yourself.

But that's the reason why he liked you anyway. So small, so weak, so obedient, so perfect for him to fuck up. God, if he didn't want just to rip your tiny pencil skirt to threads and spear you on his cock like no tomorrow. A pretty thing like yourself shouldn't be working. No, no, no. You should be at home, in his home in his bed with his ring on your finger. You belong to him, don't you see that?

Katsuki only ever gives you the time of day, not those other stupid bitches who crawl up his ass every morning trying to get a crumb of attention. And what do you do with his precious time? Waste it. Always whining about how you really shouldn't, that he shouldn't be seen with someone like you. As if he gives a fuck about what the media has to say.

He even checks up on you when you're not at work! Isn't he such a gentleman? Sure, he's a bit vulgar, but he's trying to show he cares. But if you want to act like a stuck-up bitch, then he’ll gladly treat you like one.

After a particularly tough fight with a villain, the blonde wanted nothing more than to use and abuse you to get some steam off his chest. It was late, but he prayed to whatever gods were out there that you were still in the office. He left you a voicemail for good measure, hoping that you would do what you always did best and stayed obedient for him.

It was locked up for the night, but he could see your office light on from the street. Perfect. Such a good girl for him. Little did he know that you stayed late quiet often.

You hadn't even seen his previous call come through; you were too busy listening to an old one with plenty of derogatory terms being spat your way. A hand shoved in your skirt, you couldn't help but finger yourself the sound of his voice calling you moronic for skipping out of work. Mr. Dynamight was your childhood crush after all, you had jerked off to plenty of interviews of him in the past. Sure, it was creepy but no one had to know. The older man was so big, so strong and handsome. You couldn't help but feel fuzzy from the voicemail, even if it was degrading you, it was for you alone.

Speak of the devil and he will appear.

“Well, shit. Whadda we have here, pipsqueak?”

A rough chuckle came from behind you as he pulled your desk chair out and swiveled towards him.

“Caught ya red-handed, huh? Who knew you were such a little slut for me.”

Taking the phone from your hand, he hung it up on the receiver and took your hand out of your panties. He snatched your fingers greedily in his mouth and sucked your wetness off of him.

“You know what, I’m feeling a bit hungry. And you taste like something in the vein of what I’m tryin’ to have for dinner.”

Katsuki devoured you in a hungry kiss, lifting you out of the chair and onto your desk. He tossed aside the papers messily and spread your legs to see your slick moistening your sheer tights and panties.

“Bend over and spread that fuckin’ pretty pussy for me, pipsqueak.”

You shook your head, already feeling humiliated enough by being caught with your pants down, literally.

“That wasn't a question, that was a command, you bratty bitch. What happened to your manners?”

God did his words stir something deep inside you. Waiting was no longer a priority; catching you like this was proof enough in his mind that you were just playing hard to get.

“You should consider yourself lucky that I want you to sit on my face, you know that? I have bitches trying to get on my dick every day, but it only gets hard for you, pipsqueak.”

“I-I thought you didn't like quirkless people!”

“It's all the more reason I want to be balls deep in your cunt right now. So weak and pathetic, it's fucking cute.”

You could feel yourself tighten around nothing just at his words. He was right, you were just a pathetic plaything for him. Not hesitating any longer, he ripped off your skirt and threw it behind the both of you. Your tights also got ripped to shreds, leaving you in your blouse and panties.

“Fuckin’ gorgeous.” He muttered, mostly to himself as he took your panties off and pocketed them. For later, he thought.

Katsuki didn't hesitate to spit on your already wet cunt before diving into his meal. Each stroke of his tongue sent fire straight to your core, each suckle of his lips drew a whimper from your mouth. Hips bucked into his mouth before he held them down, using just one hand to cover your torso. So small and petite for him, how cute would you be up against his massive form.

“M-Mr. Dynamight!”

“Heh, so fuckin’ cute. Call me Katsuki, sweet thing. Or daddy, if you're nasty like that.”

Your hips were held taught against his face, not allowing you to squirm or inch away from his searing tongue fucking your hole. He continued to ravage you with his mouth, pulling away only a few times to give your pussy a nice spank. Groaning into your cunt, he stroked himself at the same time.

Humiliation had dissolved into pleasure as he serviced you, tears springing in your eyes as he gripped his head tightly with your hands and thighs. Having already masturbated before getting caught, it didn't take long for him to make you see stars and roll your eyes into the back of your head.

“K-Katsuki, I’m cumming!” You shouted, squirting onto his tongue as your body shook around his head. Your fingers threaded deeply into his hair and tugged as he continued to work his tongue into your hole, riding out your orgasm.

He didn't stop, though.

“Too much, it's too much!”

“I’ll stop when I’m finished, little girl.”

You tried to push his head away, but he gripped your wrists from under your legs and had you pinned against his mouth, shaking and screaming from overstimulation. Once he brought you another good nut, he pulled away and gave your clit a kiss, chuckling when you jumped.

Standing up, he pushed his mask up to pull his back and took his rock-hard cock from his pants. He spat on your dripping hole once again before lining up his fat head with it.

Katsuki hissed as he sank himself into your cunt, holding your hips in place as you whined and squirmed under him, still overly sensitive. God, were you gripping him in all the right ways. Your legs around his waist, your hands on his forearms, and your cunt around his cock.

“Relax, pipsqueak, or I’ll end up breaking you.” He chuckled. “But you might like that, huh?”

Seeing your teary, fucked out face while teasing you? He nearly jizzed himself on the spot. But he had to hold out for you. A choked gasp was all you could respond with as he got right in your face, breath tickling your cheeks as he looked in your eyes.

“Such a dirty slut, getting off to the sound of my voice. It's better in person, isn't it?”

“D-Daddy!”

Was all you could whine as his thumb made his way to your clit, drawing slow, gently circles with his roughed-up finger.

“Oi, oi, oi, did I break ya already, pipsqueak? Y’know, you coulda just asked for my cock like a good girl if you were gonna get this drunk off it.”

His hips slowly drew back, almost pulling out all the way before slamming back in, earning a squeal from you.

“Or maybe you wanted me to take you by force? Show ya what the fuck happens to quirkless little girls who tease their fuckin’ man so much that he just has to come and take their little cunt to show ‘em who’s boss, eh?”

You couldn't help but tighten around him from his words, squirming under his hot breath as he started to grind his hips up into yours slowly.

“Good girl, letting daddy rape your cunt so willingly.”

Katsuki chuckled, sealing a hot kiss on your mouth while he gripped your throat. His hips began to piston in and out of your pussy, thick veins grinding against your spongy walls.

His brutal kisses swallowed your moans and tears while he squeezed your throat. His other thumb continued to swipe against your clit in fast motions, causing your to clamp down and flutter against his thick cock.

“Shoulda known you were a whore from the start, wearing those skirts that hugged ya in all the right places. Bending over and letting me touch you how I pleased, it's like you wanted this to happen.”

The pace of his thrust increased as he started to chase his orgasm, holding your throat and hips down to use you like the hole he knew you were. He growled and snarled into your mouth as he choked you, even more, watching the blood flood to your face.

“Yeah, baby, I've got your life in my hands now. If you won't be mine, I’ll fuckin’ kill you. Then nobody can have you.”

“Y-Yours! I’m yours!” You managed to gasp out, gripping his forearm and digging your nails into it, hoping he’ll let you up for air

“Damn straight, now cum for me, you quirkless little bitch.”

The haziness from the lack of air and the pleasure pooling in your gut sent you over the edge a third time, making you cry out his name as you came. Katsuki was right behind you, eyes screwed shut and practically foaming at the mouth as he came deep inside you, finally letting you breathe once he finished himself off.

You sputtered and coughed, desperate to fill your lungs with air as he pushed some stray hairs out of your face.

“Ya did good, pipsqueak.”

He praised, giving your ass a spank before pulling out and tossing you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

“You’re coming home with me, so don't worry about the mess.”

“By the way, you're fired.”

TAG LIST: @tomurasprincess @suzuki-violin-school @sightoru @alrunemara

[sirthisisa-wendys]

Hello! I've been super obsessed with your stories and just absolutely love your writing, you inspired me to actually want to post some more of my own writings, so thank you for your hard work and all you do! 💖 Also congrats on hitting 1K!!

I did want to ask if possible, and no rush on this at all, if you could maybe to do like a Choso x Reader x Yuuji smut? It doesn't have to have incest in it by any means if that makes you uncomfy, maybe in a way where they just give all their attention to the reader? I just feel like it'd be interesting, the dynamic between the two of them, kind of feeling like you're between a good and evil side. Lord knows I can't choose sides when they look as fine as most men do in this show. 👉👈 If that's too much, maybe just a Choso smut? I'm not picky! Whatever is easiest for you if you get to this! 😊 They can be whatever you would like them to be, I was stuck between gods or angels, but whatever you think would fit best!

Thank you again if you do get to this! You're amazing! ❤❤

The Offer: God!Choso Kamo x Fem!Reader x God!Yuji Itadori

wc: 861 tw: NSFW 1K Follower Event Masterlist

It isn't fair.

The way you're pressed between the god of darkness and the god of light... it isn't remotely fair. You're just a small flower nymph, barely in control of her gift, but you're also collateral damage between the brothers and their never-ending argument.

"You enjoy my presence, don't you? I make the flowers grow."

"I give you night! You enjoy sleeping, don't you?" You look between the men, who are really arguing against each other and not trying to persuade you.

"Um..."

The pink-haired god touches your cheek with a couple of fingers, smiling seductively. "But I give you sunlight to have fun in the daytime."

"And I can provide cover in the dark to have little trysts, right, nymph?" You look at the pale man with the tint of black against the bridge of his nose with wide eyes.

"I---" Choso grabs your waist, pulling you against him.

"She wants you to leave her alone, Yuji. You're really hurting her eyes with your hair and--"

"Oh, come on! Like you're not absolutely dreadful to look at with those bags under your eyes."

"Stop!" you shout, holding your arms against your sides. "I don't want to be part of your argument. We nymphs don't like being put between the two of you. Both of you are great, okay?"

The gods frown at your complaint, eyes flicking to each other before looking back at you.

"You think both of us are great, huh?" Choso laughs, crossing his arms. "Told you these nymphs are head over heels for us, Yuji."

"Yeah... Tell us more."

You sense the instantaneous change of mood, and your back presses up against the birch tree behind you, somewhat fearful. "Well... uh..."

"Do you think we're handsome?" The answer is lodged in your throat as you observe the two approaching you slowly, lust clouding their eyes. "Maybe you want to have fun with both of us. Would you like that, little one?"

"What nymph wouldn't be flattered by our offer?" Choso adds, eyes roaming over your exposed flesh greedily. "I think you've always wanted us; you're just too shy to say so." Yuji presses a kiss to your right cheek and Choso places one on your left cheek, both of the gods working themselves around you.

"Let's give her a taste of what we're really capable of." _____________________________________________________________

What nymph wouldn't be flattered by their offer?

You consider the list of spirits you know as you're on all fours, lips wrapped around Yuji's cock as Choso is underneath you, eagerly eating you out.

"Tell us how much you like it."

"I love it," you gasp, going back to sucking Yuji off with excitement. You've never had two gods give you this kind of treatment; not even the god of love himself would be bothered with you like this. Never like this.

Choso hums his approval beneath you, vigorously sucking on your clit and running his tongue along your slit as your other hand tugs at his half-hard cock. Yuji smiles down at you, brushing your hair away from your face before he hisses, groaning low in his throat. "Your mouth feels so fucking good."

Choso moves your leg aside, sliding out from underneath you and jerking his cock as he kneels behind you, pressing his cockhead past your folds. You groan as he pushes himself inside of you, rocking you back and forth on his length.

"Yuji," Choso drawls. "This feels amazing."

"Told you," Yuji grunts softly. "It always does." You buck your hips back on Choos's cock while Yuji pistons his length back ad forth inside of your mouth in tandem. The two gods moan and groan in the shade of the tree above you, hands gripping your flesh, your nipples, and your clit at random.

Yuji's cock pops out of your mouth as you gasp for air and Choso's hips smack into yours, making obscene sounds in the cool of the garden. "That's a good nymph..." Choso whispers, squeezing both of your nipples roughly.

"Ah, just like that..." Yuji whines, pressing his hand to the back of your head as you begin to suck him off again. "That's perfect..." You feel his cock sliding against your tongue and into your throat with ease, making you gag a little each time he hits the back. Your throat emits a soft clicking noise, and he lets your nose rest against the tuft of hair above his dick before letting you back up for air. Then you go back down, choking on him once more.

This feeling combined with Choso's fingers on your nipples and cock deep inside of you are enough to make you feel like you're about to explode into a million pieces as you near your climax. And when you come undone around Choso's cock, he holds your hips still, exhaling deeply as he also lets himself go. Yuji doesn't cum for a few more minutes, but when he does, thick ropes of cum shoot down your throat and you swallow without really thinking about the fact that two gods just came inside of you.

Of course... What nymph wouldn't be flattered by their offer?

[fruitcoops]

hi! i was wondering if you could do couples play truth or drink with coops and o’knutzy? i wouldn’t mind it being spicy :))

This is VERY spicy, so please be aware of that before you go in. Coops and O’Knutzy belong to @lumosinlove!

TW for many mentions of sex and alcohol

Sirius was warm, a little tipsy, and perfectly content. The carpet was soft under his palms and Remus was cuddled happily against his side from their spot on the floor; across from him, Logan was sitting in Leo’s lap with his legs over Finn’s, whose Spotify ‘gaylist’ played from the speakers. Their cheeks were all a little pink from alcohol and Sirius was glad they were staying the night instead of driving home.

“Okay, okay, new game,” Leo laughed as they gathered the last of the Scrabble pieces. The five of them had made it through a whole fifteen minutes before Remus and Finn began arguing about symbolism in Great Expectations, while Sirius sat on the sidelines deeply regretting his choice to build ‘mansion’ for a triple-word score. Twenty points really wasn’t worth the near-fistfight.

“It’s time,” Logan singsonged as he took the truth or drink cards off the coffee table, which had been pushed aside to make room for their game board. “The rules for this are a little different. Do you have alcohol?”

Sirius scoffed. “Of course we have alcohol, we’re adults.”

“Other than wine.”

“Mon dieu,” he muttered, rolling his eyes as he got to his feet and walked back into the kitchen. He returned a few moments later with a bottle of cheap whiskey he had been given on his birthday and set it in the middle of their circle, along with five glasses. “There.”

“Before we start, let’s make an agreement that whatever we say stays in this room, alright?” Finn held his hand out, palm down, and they stacked theirs on top. “No cameras, no holding back.”

“Deal. Who goes first?”

“Alright, so with the group game, there’s one judge each round,” Logan explained as he took a few cards out and put them face down. “Every card has two questions and the judge decides who asks who. They give the card to the person with the best answer, and whoever has the most cards at the end wins. Ready?”

“Let’s do it.”

Finn drew a card. “Okay, I want Remus to ask Leo the first one, and Leo asks Remus the second one.”

“Have you ever walked in on your parents?” Remus asked.

Leo groaned. “Yeah.”

“Not Eloise and Wyatt!”

“Yes, Eloise and Wyatt. Scarred me for life, that’s for sure.” Leo shuddered and took the card, immediately grinning. “This is a good one. What’s your most embarrassing sex moment?”

“I really want to drink.”

“You can’t chicken out this early!”

“Ugh, fine.” Remus ran a hand down his face, which was faintly red. “Um, it was after my first game with the Lions and I tried to ride and…” He sighed. “My legs were too tired to actually sit up.”

“No,” Finn gasped, looking like a kid on Christmas morning. “You couldn’t even get up?”

“I could get up, I just couldn’t move.” Remus tucked his knees under himself. “Like, I got to here and it was fine, but there was nothing left.”

Sirius snickered. “Almost broke my sternum trying, though.”

All three cubs burst out laughing. “This one goes to Loops,” Finn managed after a moment, wiping a tear from his eye as he handed the card over. “Oh, shit, that’s the funniest thing I’ve ever heard. Leo, you’re up.”

“Okay…I want Cap to ask Logan the first one, and vice versa.”

Any higher power, give me strength. “What’s your favorite position, Tremzy?”

Logan grinned cheekily. “Middle.”

“Didn’t need to know that.”

“Too bad. When was the last time you had sex?”

“It would have been three and a half hours ago if your boyfriend didn’t insist on being early to everything.”

“I knew it!” Finn practically shouted. “I told you two they were fucking.”

“Did you bet on that?” Remus asked, incredulous. “Oh my god!”

“It was less of a bet and more of an assumption,” Leo corrected. “Cap, answer the question.”

“Last night.”

“That’s a lame-ass answer and I’m giving the card to Lo.”

“Bias,” he coughed, earning himself three different smacks to the shoulders. “Rude.”

“My turn!” Logan reached over for a new card. “Loops, ask Finn the first one, and Finn, ask Loops the second.”

Remus cleared his throat, took a second to laugh, and then read. “Name the person here you think I should hook up with.”

Finn snorted. “Aside from your actual fiancé?” They both turned to Logan, who shrugged. “Alright, which one of my boyfriends am I willing to hand over for a night? I feel like you’d object to sleeping with Lo because he’s basically Sirius’ brother. You and Leo are close already, which means it wouldn’t be all that awkward. Honestly, when it comes down it, I’d tap that.”

“Oh, you think you’re doing the tapping?” Remus raised an eyebrow and Finn glanced at Sirius, who grinned. “That’s cute. My turn, Harzy, hand it over.”

Finn obliged, shocked into silence while Leo and Logan cackled next to him. “Are you really surprised?” Sirius asked.

“I mean, a little.”

“Shush, you two. Finn, have you ever done anything sexual on camera?”

“Does Snapchat count?”

“Yes.”

“Then yes. Multiple times.”

The five of them looked to Logan, who shook his head. “I’m going to have to give it to Loops, who is apparently a top, much to everyone’s surprise. Sorry, mon rouge.”

“To clarify, I’m a switch,” Remus said as he added the card to his pile. “Let’s not get too hasty here.”

Sirius took a card off the stack and scanned the two questions. “Logan, ask Leo the first one, and vice versa.”

“Oh, this should be interesting. Knutty, who here do you most want to hook up with?”

“Just one?” Leo looked over to Sirius who nodded. “Fuck, I don’t know. I can’t choose!”

“Are you going to drink?” Sirius asked. “That means you lose the card by default.”

“Yeah, I’m not going to choose between my boyfriends.” He downed the shot and reached for the card. “Have you ever had an awkward sex dream? Was anyone here involved?”

“Fuck,” Logan muttered. “Yes, I have had so many awkward sex dreams and several of them involved people in this room.”

“Aw, Tremzy, I’m flattered,” Remus teased, taking a sip of his water as Logan stretched a leg out to kick him in the thigh. “Do I get to be the judge now, seeing as you won by default?”

“Get me some cards, Loops!” Finn said.

“Sirius, ask Finn question one and Finn, ask him question two.” Remus kissed Sirius on the cheek as he handed him the card.

“Harzy, what’s the sexy nickname they’ll give you in the old folks’ home? You have no idea how bad I want to know this.”

Finn winked. “Big Red.”

“That is the shittiest nickname ever. Do better.”

“Ugh, fine. Hmmm…” He hummed along to the playlist while he thought, and Sirius couldn’t help but bop a bit as well. Sue him, Gloria Gaynor was catchy. “My nickname in the nursing home is going to be Harzy because that’s already sexy. Hand it over, Cap. What’s a sexual thing you tried, but just couldn’t get into?”

“Having sex with women.” The entire group burst out laughing at that, and it took a solid minute for everyone to calm down enough to continue. “It’s true! They were all very nice and lovely, but it wasn’t quite right. Alright, Re, who won?”

“You did,” Remus laughed. “By a landslide, holy fuck. Batter up, Harz.”

“Ha! Everyone has to answer this one except me. What’s the sex skill you’re most proud of?”

“Do we just go around the circle?” Leo asked. Finn nodded and he tilted his head. “Hmm. I’m really flexible.”

“Damn right you are,” Logan grinned. “I’m most proud of my riding ability.”

Sirius did not miss the flush that came to both Finn and Leo’s faces at that. “Easy, boys. I think I’m a really good kisser.”

“That’s not a sex skill!” Finn protested. “Everyone can kiss.”

Remus huffed a laugh. “Not like he can, trust me. Um, I give top-notch blowjobs.”

Finn looked between the four of them, deep in thought. “I hate having to choose between my boyfriends.”

“You know there are two other people here, right?” Sirius asked drily.

“Yeah, but I don’t have to go home with you tomorrow and neither of you are in direct control of whether or not I get laid. I think I have to go with Logan on this one. Peanut, I am grateful for your flexibility every single day, but it’s not a specifically sexual talent.”

“We’ll see if you get to experience it ever again,” Leo scoffed, flicking him on the ribs playfully. “My turn. Logan, ask Finn the first one.”

“Okay, baby, what did you get in major trouble for as a kid?”

“Oh, that’s tough.” Finn absentmindedly ran his hand through Logan’s hair. “There was one time when I told Alex I was going for a bike ride, but he didn’t tell my parents and they thought I’d been kidnapped. Got grounded for a month after that.”

“Even though you told your brother?”

“Mhmm. Oh, I hate the way this is worded. Tell us about a time a fluid got on you during sexy times.”

Logan snorted. “Do you remember the day we found out I was allergic to dust?”

Both Leo and Finn started laughing, but Sirius shared a bewildered look with Remus, who shrugged. “Spill it, Tremz, we weren’t there.”

“D’accord, we had forgotten to clean the apartment after a roadie, so it was pretty dusty. I went down on Leo and then pulled off to sneeze right as he came, and it got in my eye.”

Sirius winced at the thought and Remus hissed in sympathy. “Yikes.”

“After we finished rinsing my eye out, we dusted the whole place and now we vacuum at least once a week.”

“Logan is the winner for this round because I still feel bad about that,” Leo said as he handed the card over. “I have never felt so guilty for coming. Lo, you’re the judge now.”

“Since the questions stayed within the triad last round, I’m going to be nice and give you two a chance to catch up,” he teased. “Cap, read Loops the first one.”

“Alright, sweetheart, what’s the strangest place you’ve had sex?”

“I don’t think a lot of people can say they’ve fucked at the rink.”

“Yeah, um, how often did that happen?” Leo interrupted, making a time out motion. “Because I thought it was maybe twice and I’m a little worried about sitting on that table now.”

Sirius winked. “Pre-game rituals, Knutty. At least once a week.”

“The Habs PT room was also interesting,” Remus mused. “They had a very heavy door, which was nice. Okay, gimme. What was your best orgasm?”

“When I wore your jersey,” Sirius answered without hesitating. “No contest. Logan, who won?”

He blinked twice before responding. “Sorry, I’m still stuck on the fact that you got off in the Habs PT room. I think this one goes to Loops.”

Sirius sighed and picked a new card. “These are incredibly similar. Um, Re and Leo.”

Remus took the card and snuggled up against his side as he read. “Leo, how much money would a voyeuristic billionaire have to pay us to have sex in his velvet blimp? That is so specific, what the hell?”

“There are two parts to my answer,” Leo said. “Number one: it would take very little actual money to get me to have sex with you if I wasn’t head over heels in love and you weren’t engaged. Number two: a hundred million dollars.”

“What?”

“He’s a billionaire! That’s nothing to him! Think of another time when you’d be allowed to fuck in a velvet blimp and get paid obscene amounts of money, Loops. I’ll wait.”

“Good point.”

“My turn. What would we do on our first date?”

“Hmm. I’m getting, like, coffee shop and bookstore vibes.” Remus paused. “Wait, we literally did that last weekend.”

“By that metric, we’re basically already dating,” Leo laughed. “Cap, who won?”

“Sorry, honey, but Leo put a lot of thought into his answer.” Sirius slid the card across the floor and Leo kissed it in victory.

Remus shook his head and drew a card. “You’re sleeping on the couch tonight. Finn, ask my traitor fiancé the first one and vice versa.”

“I’m getting punished for being fair?”

“We’re in this to win, baby.”

“Ask away, Harz.”

“How are we wrong for each other romantically? Ooo, can I answer this after you?”

“Sure. Where do I start?” Sirius laughed. “First we have the weird power imbalance if we’re still on the same team, then there’s the part where I’m super introverted and you’re painfully social, and finally you’re poly and I’m not.”

“I was going to say you’re not as kinky as me.”

Remus, who had been taking a drink of water, choked and nearly did a spit take. “Double check that before you commit,” he coughed.

Finn’s eyes widened. “Really? Again? I thought you guys were the wholesome vanilla couple!”

“Oh, honey, no,” Leo said, patting him on the arm. “Kasey made the same mistake.”

Sirius took the card from him. “This is easy. Have you ever had a threesome?”

“Take a wild guess.”

“Sirius wins that one,” Remus said. At Finn’s betrayed look, he shrugged. “Sorry, I don’t make the rules.”

“You’re literally the judge.”

“You are now, actually. The round ended.”

Finn rolled his eyes and took a card. “Loops and Logan, give it a go.”

“Loops, if we were on a desert island together, would we become lovers?” Logan batted his eyelashes and Remus laughed.

“Is anyone else there?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Sure, why not. You’re cute.” He paused and made a face. “Now that I think about it, that would be a lot like fucking Regulus and I don’t know how I feel about that.”

Sirius turned to look at him. “I hope you feel oh god, please no about that.”

“It’s a desert island!”

“Maps exist! We’ll find you!”

“Hand over the card before this gets ugly, Tremz.” Remus made a low oof noise as Sirius dragged him into his lap and placed a loud kiss to the side of his neck. “Thank you, baby. Describe the first time you had sex, including every cringey detail.”

Logan put his face in his hands. “I was a junior in high school and it happened in her parents’ basement. The school gave out free condoms—”

“You had sex with a school condom?” Remus grimaced. “I guess it’s better than nothing.”

“Yeah. Anyway, I had been crushing on her for a while, but she panicked as soon as her shirt came off and told me she was a lesbian, and that I looked exactly like the girl she was in love with.”

“No.”

“Yeah. It was so awkward. I gave her a hug and then we went and got ice cream.”

The room was quiet for a moment. “Damn,” Leo said with a low whistle at last as Remus passed the card to Logan. “Good for her, I guess?”

“I mean, she was dating the girl by the end of the year. Gay rights?”

“Gay rights,” the rest of them said in unison, breaking down into laughter as Leo took the last card.

“Bummer, everyone gets to answer this except me. Expose one of your kinks or take a shot, and you can’t repeat one that’s already been said. Nobody wins this card at the end of the round.”

“I am not opposed to a little bit of manhandling,” Logan said with a sly look at Leo.

Sirius eyed the shot glass in the middle of the circle, then decided against it. There was no way he would give up a chance to beat the cubs at this game. “Getting tied up.”

Remus gave him a surprised look. “I thought you’d take a shot.”

“Not this late in the game. Your turn.”

“Hmmm.” Remus bit his lip. “Praise kink.”

“Aw, man, that was mine!” Finn protested. Remus gave him a high five. “I guess I have to go with voyeurism, then. Whew, wasn’t expecting to say that out loud tonight.”

“Is that it? That was the last one?” Strangely, Sirius was a little disappointed. Despite the insanely invasive sex questions, it was fun to trade stories with the cubs.

“Yep. Count your cards, everyone.”

“I don’t have any.” Finn pouted.

Leo held up his single card. “Thank God for the velvet blimp.”

Sirius had two, and Remus shuffled his three. Across the circle, Logan was sitting pretty on five cards. “I win,” he said with a smug smile.

“Way to go, Tremzy.” Sirius reached over for a fist bump, doing his best not to jostle Remus. “I mean, it must have been nice having both your boyfriends here to give you cards.”

“Shut the fuck up!” Logan tossed his cards at Sirius, who grabbed a pillow off the sofa behind them and whacked him on the side of the head with it. “Oh, you’re going down.”

In the ensuing chaos, the truth or drink box and Logan’s winning cards were forgotten. None of them really cared, though; they had a pillow fight to win.

[jokerscrazybrilliant]

Survive - Chapter 2 - (Captain Rex)

Chapter 1 · Chapter 2 · Chapter 3 · Chapter 4

Story on other platforms:

Quotev · AO3

________

“Master Kenobi,” I bowed my head to him as I entered the briefing room, reciprocating the smile he gave me.

“Hello Nimra, I hope you’re doing well today?” Master Kenobi was, as always, kind and warm, I had only heard about him before being assigned to Master Skywalker but now that I had met him, I wished I could’ve gotten the opportunity to learn from him sooner.

“Well, I’m glad the two of you are getting along.” Anakin commented, seeming to feel ignored. I smirked as I turned to face him, bowing deeply and exaggeratedly.

“Master Skywalker, you’re important too!” I grinned as Obi Wan laughed behind his hands at my teasing.

“Very funny Nim, we’re actually in the middle of a debriefing if you hadn’t noticed.” He gestured to the conference table where Captain Rex and Commander Cody of Obi Wan’s 212th battalion stood.

“Gentlemen,” I greeted as we joined them at the table, earning a polite nod from each in return. “My first mission?” I turned to ask Anakin, unable to hide my excitement. It had only been a few days onboard Master Skywalker’s ship, but that paired with my time on Coruscant, I had been out of the action for far too long.

Anakin shook his head at me with a small smile, “Not for you, not a mission. Just routine inspections of the outer rim outposts.”

“However, I think it would be good for Nimra to join the captain and Commander Cody. I believe it will be good for her to familiarize herself with the standard procedures and how these bases operate.” Master Kenobi said, stroking his beard in thought.

Anakin shrugged at me. “It won’t be too long, and as long as the commanders don’t mind, I don’t see anything wrong with it,” he looked to the clones in question.

“We don’t mind at all, General.” Commander Cody said, giving me a small nod.

“Alright then, that’s settled. You three can get underway then. And don’t forget to check in.” Master Obi-Wan said, then turning to analyze some information on screen.

Anakin pulled me aside before letting me follow them out. “I know you’re here to learn from me, Nim, but these clones have more experience than you and I combined. Make sure you show them the respect they deserve, and use this opportunity to learn from them, as well.”

I bowed my head respectfully, showing him I understood. “Of course, Master.” With that he gave me a pat on the shoulder and a small smile and headed to Master Obi-Wan.

“Have fun!” He gave a wave over his shoulder, and I smiled and walked out to catch up with the commanders.

I might’ve been offended that Master Skywalker felt the need to tell me to be respectful to the clone commanders, but I had heard enough comments from my peers to show that not all Jedi, and not all people, were as respectful as they should be towards our soldiers. While they fought valiantly and gave their lives to protect us, we had people insulting them, and viewing them as less-than. I couldn’t stand that, I had ended friendships with such disrespectful people, and I just couldn’t understand where they were coming from.

Shaking these thoughts out of my head, I quickly made my way to the hangar, not wanting to be left behind.

***

Inspecting the bases was very, very far from interesting, and I huffed as we finally settled in the ship, setting the route for the final base we had to check, the Rishi Outpost. It was definitely a learning opportunity, but I felt like I was back in the classroom, learning all sorts of codes and procedures I needed to have memorized. However, thankfully I didn’t have to do very much, rather I just observed, Commander Cody taking the lead on all the inspections thus far.

I could see how the commander and Master Obi-Wan got along, both of them having a high regard for protocol and rules, whereas Captain Rex was a little more flexible to adjust more to Anakin’s… unique way of doing things.

“You doing alright, commander?” Rex turned to look at me in the small open cockpit, smirking slightly at my slouched posture in the chair.

Giving him an expression that should’ve fried him where he was, I sat up straight, cursing him in my mind. “Fantastic, captain.” I forced the most polite smile I could muster.

“Good.” I didn’t miss the amusement that shone in his eyes, making me thankful I had been assigned to this particular battalion. I wasn’t sure I would’ve made it with Cody’s more serious personality.

“I’m going to contact the Generals, let ‘em know where we’re at.” The commander in question spoke up, gaining both Rex and I’s attention.

I nodded. “Good idea, commander.”

Me and Rex watched silently as Cody opened the frequency to contact Master Obi-Wan. “General Kenobi, General Skywalker,” Commander Cody greeted as they appeared in the transmission.

“Cody. How goes the inspections?” Obi-Wan asked.

“The tracking station at Pastel is fully operational. Captain Rex, Commander Nimra and I are proceeding to the outpost in the Rishi system.”

“Good. Report back once you’ve arrived.”

“Copy that. Cody out.” He ended the transmission as Rex set the ship into hyperspace.

“How long to the Rishi outpost?” I asked

“Feeling tired sir?” Rex turned his head to eye me in question.

“No of course not, I just want to know so that I can prepare myself.” I glowered at him.

“It won’t be a long ride, commander, Rishi isn’t far from here.” Commander Cody piped in.

“Thank you, Cody.” I gave him a sweet smile, wanting to be on his good side since he and Master Kenobi were friends.

“Not a problem sir.”

***

The trip to the outpost really wasn’t far and I was excited for the boring protocol checks to come to an end. Commander Cody signaled the base as we made our approach. “Rishi Outpost, this is Commander Cody, do you copy? Rishi Outpost, please respond.” My brows furrowed as it took them a while to respond to our hails.

“Sorry, commander, we’re experiencing technical difficulties.” A voice responded from over the comms.

“This is the inspection team,” Cody responded.

“Inspection? Negative, we do not require an inspection. Everything is fine here, thank you.” I shared a look with Rex at this strange response. They knew to expect us, and they were speaking with a superior officer, so what was with the unwillingness to comply?

“We’ll be the judge of that. Prepare for our arrival.”

“Roger, roger.” At this Cody shut off the comm, looking uneasy.

“Something’s not right here.” Rex commented, frowning as we approached the landing pad.

“Well, good luck. I’m putting you in charge of this one. I know Commander Sayla has been taking notes, let’s see how well you’ve been paying attention.” Cody said to Rex, me smirking at him behind Cody’s back teasingly.

“Well, you two go ahead, I’ll join you in a moment, I’ll just contact Master Skywalker and update him on our whereabouts.” The two men nodded at me before exiting the ship, leaving me to turn on the comm, tuning in to the correct frequency to reach Master Anakin. A small frown formed on my face as I was met with nothing but static.

Confused, I turned to follow after Rex and Cody. They were talking to an officer out on the deck. A flare showed in the sky, briefly catching my attention before I turned back to see Rex pulling out his pistol, shooting the officer in the head. “Rex are you mad?!” I shouted, running up to the two quickly.

“Relax, commander,” Rex responded, unconcernedly. He reached down and pulled off the dead officer’s helmet to reveal the faceplate of a droid, but not an ordinary battle droid. “Just as I thought. Looks like one of those new commando droids.”

“That flare must have come from the survivors.” Commander Cody noted.

Shots rung out around us as more of those droids revealed themselves, and they had us surrounded. Well, this is going well, I thought to myself sarcastically. “Ambush!” Rex shouted, moving back to find cover.

“Really? And here I thought it was just the welcome party.” I responded over the noise of fire, deflecting bullets to cover the two soldiers behind me.

“Those clankers have tough armour!” Cody commented frustratedly.

“Yeah, I never thought I’d miss those lousy B-One battle droids!” I responded, wanting to laugh but finding it difficult with all the shots I was taking. The droids had caught us unawares and had us completely surrounded, boxing us in between several storage crates and coming at us from all directions.

“We’re cut off!” Rex shouted between shots. Suddenly more commandos came out from inside the base, tossing handfuls of detonators in our direction. While I found it slightly flattering that they felt it necessary to devote so many explosives to destroying us, it also left us a very small chance of surviving the explosion. “Off the platform!”

“You don’t have to tell me twice!” The men jumped before me and I quickly followed, unsure of what I was diving into, but I had no time to think if I wanted to make it out of the small area before being blown to bits. Before I could fall too far, I felt the wind knocked out of me as someone grabbed me around the waist, stopping my descent.

“I gotcha, commander.” Rex spoke into my ear, causing a warmth to rise to the back of my neck.

“I appreciate the sentiment captain, but you forget, I’m a Jedi.” I turned to look at him with a crooked grin. “I have these cool magical powers that allow me to catch myself before I go splat.”

“Of course, commander.” I didn’t miss the amusement in his voice as he let go of me, and I landed gracefully on the ground, watching as the two soldiers lowered themselves using their cables.

“This certainly complicates things, commander.” Rex addressed Cody as we took in our surroundings.

“No worse than that time on Tibrin.” Cody responded lightly.

“We had the Generals with us on Tibrin. They helped.” My brow raised at how quickly he dismissed my presence. That paired with how he caught me when he certainly wouldn’t have caught Skywalker made me think they didn’t realize what I was capable of.

Well since you don’t think I can help, have fun on your own, I thought to myself, slightly annoyed. Master Kenobi and Anakin had sent me to observe and learn, after all. So that’s what I would do.

The approach of three unknown clones drew our attention and pulled me from my thoughts. I could feel their force signatures, and they were indeed clones, but I didn’t cut in to say that as Rex demanded them take off their helmets. They took them off, albeit confusedly, and introduced themselves as Fives, Hevy, and Echo. Rex and Cody introduced themselves, and me, and I gave a little wave from my spot in the back, but remained silent.

It was interesting to see the way they dealt with these younger clones. It was a new side of Rex I hadn’t yet seen. I stayed with my arms folded across my chest, leaning against a wall of the cave even as a giant eel like creature attacked, watching with only mild interest as the captain took it out with one shot. I was more interested in the young ‘shinies’, as Rex called them.

They were young and inexperienced but they had a firm determination that was refreshing to see. I walked in the back alongside Echo as we found better ground. “So, you’re a Jedi, sir?”

“Almost,” I responded with a warm smile. “Have you met a Jedi before?”

He nodded. “General Shaak Ti helped train us on Kamino. Without her belief in us, me and my batchers would never have succeeded.” He clearly had a lot of respect for her, and it made me smile to see.

“Of course. I have only met Master Ti a few times but she seems very wise.” Our conversation came to an end as we quickly climbed up closer to the outpost.

“Look sharp, rookies. As long as those tweezers occupy this post, our home planet of Kamino is at risk.”

“But there’s so many of them.” Echo’s nervous comment made me smile. They really were shinies.

“Doesn’t matter, kid. We have to retake this base, so we will retake this base!”

“And how do you propose we get through those blast doors, Rex, old boy?” Cody turned to look at Rex.

“I have a few ideas.”

He didn’t share his idea until we took out all the droids on the platform, me taking care of the stragglers before they could call for backup or notify anyone to our presence. But his brilliant idea was… well I could see how him and Skywalker got along, or perhaps they had spent too much time together because his idea was a very poor plan I could see Skywalker coming up with.

“This is never gonna work.” Cody sighed from beside me, making me chuckle and nod in agreement.

“I mean I could’ve just sliced it open with my lightsaber but I figured I’d let him have his fun.” I commented as we watched the captain faking taking off his helmet and holding up a decapitated droid head up in its place.

To our collective surprise, the blast doors opened, his plan succeeding. These droids might’ve had tougher armour than the standard B-One but they certainly weren’t much smarter. “Clones!” One called out in surprise, far too late, unfortunately for them.

“Roger, roger.” The captain responded coolly, shooting at it before we all jumped out and dismantled the rest of the droids. “Right, let’s move.”

“Permission to take point, sir?” Hevy asked, no doubt excited to be seeing some action.

“I’malways first, kid.” Rex responded, making me grin.

We were able to overtake the base quickly, Fives and Echo making me laugh as they argued over who got the kill on a droid. “Sorry Echo, that one really was Fives.” I gave him an apologetic smile.

“Get to the window. It looks like we have more visitors.” Commander Cody pointed out at the sky.

“It looks like a Separatist fleet.” I frowned at the sight above us. This was not good.

“That’s why they commandeered this outpost. They’re mounting a full-scale invasion,” Rex stated.

“Can we get a message out?” I asked.

“No good, they’re jamming all other communication and they’ve hardwired the all-clear signal. It’ll take too long to fix. And we’ve got company.” Rex pointed to the shuttle full of droid reinforcements that was making its way to us.

“Well buddy, you always said you wanted to be on the front lines.” Fives nudged Hevy lightly.

“We can’t protect the outpost long against that army of clankers.” Hevy said, turning to look at Rex.

“Then we’ll destroy the outpost instead.” My brows raised at this idea. It certainly wasn’t orthodox but it would cut off the all clear signal, which would capture our fleet’s attention.

Rex quickly got everyone on board with the idea and Echo came up with a solution on how we would manage to destroy the base itself, a plan quickly coming together. He really is a great leader, I thought to myself as I watched Rex divide the men into teams.

“Are you alright to go with Hevy and the boys to hold off the clankers, give us more time?” The captain asked me, fully aware that while he was in charge, I was above him in rank.

I nodded. “Of course, captain. Don’t worry about me.” I gave him a little smile as I followed after Hevy to the building’s entrance.

“Reinforcements reporting. Open up.”

Hevy opened the blast doors, blaster canon at the ready. “Didn’t say please.” He quipped, opening fire on the droids.

I laughed as I dove in front of him, deflecting bullets to cover him and taking out as many droids as I could reach. Many more took their place and I cursed at General Grievous in my mind, there was no doubt that he was behind this. “Just some routine inspections, they said, just to pick up some standard procedure. Yeah right.” I muttered, swatting away battle droids with my lightsaber as I grumbled to myself.

“Time to go commander!” Hevy called to me. I nodded at him and quickly jogged inside, still deflecting laser bolts back at the enemy. Quickly the blast doors sealed behind me and we made our way back to the command centre.

“Rex, time’s wasting.” Cody called out as we entered.

“Almost ready. The handset isn’t linked up with the detonator. Hevy.”

“Yes, sir?”

“This detonator isn’t working.” Rex said, handing it over to him.

“I’ll take care of it. It’ll be fixed in no time. You guys get out of here.”

“Just make it fast. Those droids are getting close.” Rex opened the ventilation shaft, gesturing for me to enter it first.

“I’ll wait, I’ll go last,” I opposed.

“Please commander, we’ll be right behind you. Besides, if you get hurt on my watch, the General won’t let me hear the end of it.” He made me laugh lightly.

“Fine then. Hurry up, all of you.” I quickly made my way through the tunnels, exiting and trying to find a good vantage point to watch the sky from.

The rest of the team was right behind me, and Rex looked up at the base. “Hevy, hit the – where’s Hevy?” I quickly turned at his words, noting that Hevy was indeed missing.

“He must still be trying to fix the detonator!” I quickly turned back and tried to make my way up the slope we had just come from, the rest of the team trying to get a hold of Hevy. He just needed to wait, I would be right there. Before I could clamber back into the ventilation shaft someone yanked me back by the arm, holding me back.

I watched in horror as the base exploded before me, debris flying everywhere, flames erupting from the pipes in front of me, nearly reaching my face.

I stared into the flames for several moments, face blank, before turning and walking away, the arm that had held me back finally letting go. How many lives now? How many lives had been given to save my own?

I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply through my nose, the smell of smoke and scorched metal filling my nostrils. Trust in the will of the force, I repeated the line to myself. Quieting my mind, I turned back to the group, putting a reassuring hand on Echo’s shoulder as he looked up at the flaming base. “Hevy always did hate that place.”

Our own fleet appeared in the sky momentarily, clearly getting the message that something was wrong, and gunships quickly appeared to pick us up. Suffice it to say I was more than eager to get off that rock.

“So, what have you learned from your trip, Nim?” Master Skywalker asked as I joined him in the hangar bay.

“That you and your captain deserve each other.” I joked with a grin, earning a laugh from Anakin and a look from the helmeted captain himself.

“I’ll take that as a complement.” Anakin responded.

“You should.”

***

After a small ceremony indicting Fives and Echo into the Five Hundred and First and awarding them on their bravery and success, there was a small informal celebration in the mess hall. We had staved off an invasion on Kamino, and we had two new recruits, so there was some celebration to be had. However, I knew Fives and Echo had the recent events still in their minds, and someone else who was nowhere to be found.

Making my way back to the hangar bay I found the captain sitting in a corner on a workbench, helmet on the floor in front of him. I came to a stop before him, unsure if my company was welcome or unwanted. Several moments passed before he spoke.

"I should've stayed behind and made sure they all got out. I should've known he'd try something stupidly heroic." His head was in his hands, elbows resting on his knees as he stared at the floor hollowly.

I sighed, sitting down on the bench beside him, staring ahead as I fell into my own thoughts. "It's not easy, when I think about all the people who have given their lives to save me. So many soldiers on the battlefield, like Hevy, like my Master," My voice broke at the mention of my old Master. Talking about him still brought up so much pain, and so many memories I tried to forget. "Some days I feel like I wasn't worth it."

"And other days?" He looked to me questioningly.

"I realize that it was never about me." I said, giving him a small smile. He nodded at me, considering my words. "When those people give their lives, it is because they are selfless. It is because they want to save lives so desperately they are willing to sacrifice anything. In that moment they are not thinking about me, and whether or not I am worth it. They are only thinking about saving anyone they can." I let myself speak my thoughts aloud, needing this conversation as much as he did.

"We should do our best to live well. To honour their sacrifice."

I looked at him thoughtfully, drawn to his dark golden orbs that held such meaning. What had those eyes seen? What emotion did they harbour? What knowledge did they hold?

I resisted the urge to sigh wistfully as I looked into his eyes, wishing I could know what they hid. "And so we shall." I gave a small smile and stood up, gesturing towards where the others were. "Now let's go celebrate the newest additions to the five hundred and first."

[fumingspice]

kiss me hard before you go

Pairing: Billie Dean Howard x Reader

Angst because someone (not naming any names) *cough* @lilypadscoven is too happy to write angst. Such a strange excuse, i know. Like whose even happy anymore? That’s so 2014, Freya.

Warning: Angsty as shit! I think. Idk im usually a happy person. Mentions of cheating, mentions of smut etc. 

Requests are open!

taglist: @sarahp-stan @jumpoffabridge-t @sarahpaulsonsoftie @definitelynot-a-writer @bottom4delia @delias-bitch-craft @creepingwolfberry @thesapphictimelady @goodeday2u @that-fucking-error @saucy-sapphic @sarahp-stan @winters-witch-bitch @rainbow-hedgehog @pearplate​

You frowned to yourself, flicking through the endless posts on Instagram. It was some godforsaken hour in the morning and no matter how hard you tried or how deeply you tried to ease your restless mind you could not fall asleep. You scrolled on social media endlessly. 

God, what time could it even be? 04.27.

You gave a defeated chuckle. Even time was in on the universe’s cruel joke. She exited Instagram and went to messages. You couldn’t count the number of unsent messages and thrown out speeches you had started and couldn’t bring yourself to finish.

Billie Dean Howard.

The contact had found itself hidden deep in the archives of old messages. You hadn’t contacted her since December when you had walked away. 

Walking away was better that being the one left behind, or so you had tried so hard to tell yourself. In hindsight, the truth was that Billie Dean was going to end up leaving you anyway. Was it courage of conviction or just the simple knowledge that you couldn’t live knowing that the only person you had ever opened your heart to was going to leave you?

What was the last thing she said anyway?

Goodnight :(.

Always with those stupid text faces. Those stupid, adorable text faces. How did she have such a powerful effect on you that you could see Billie’s face in a colon and a bracket? Why hadn’t you blocked her yet? What was left to hold onto other than movie-like memories that had slipped away like the changing of seasons.

You slipped from beneath the covers, Your hair tickled Your shoulders. There was no one beside you for you to reach for in your infinite loneliness anyway. It wasn’t infinite. Why did it feel infinite? Why did you allow one person to waltz into your heart and make you home there? You reached for an unopened bottle of wine and paused. Billie had left this bottle there. You never drank unless it was around Billie. 

“Dom Perignon,” Billie told you. You were never interested in the details of fine wine. All you knew was that the older it was the more people liked it.

“Isn’t that expensive?” The brunette asked, reading the label.

 Billie nodded with a throaty chuckle. “Only the best for my girl. I thought I would save it for a special occasion.”

A special occasion. You chuckled in spite. The occasion in question was supposed Billie’s birthday. A party with many guests. One too many. The house was brimming with sets of both of your friends. You could recall reaching for the same wine all too well before being stopped by your friend’s girlfriend. Erin took you by the wrist and guided you out to the garden. 

“No one’s out here,” you protested. Erin’s face was almost forlorn. 

“I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

Sorry for what? You snapped out of your confusion. You could see the side of Billie’s body. Pressed against the wall beneath someone else. The anxiety had somehow eased when you watched Billie kiss another, fading into nothing because you knew that there was quite literally nothing that could get even worse than what you were watching.

You pursed her lips. When you imagined these moments, you had always imagined screaming bloody murder. You imagined punching and yelling. You couldn’t move. No tears. Hell, you couldn’t even feel. Erin grabbed your arm and trailed you back, but not before the sight of you, heartbroken in a red dress. had registered in Billie. She barely had time to pull away from her kiss and have the shock of what she was actually doing register. 

It was always a red dress. Red dresses end up in heartbreak. A goddamn blaze in the dark.

Now, you found yourself standing at the window that looked out into the garden. Looking at the spot where you had seen her lover betray every bit of trust that you had. What would have happened if you didn’t see? What if you had seen but Billie didn’t? Would you have said anything? Would Billie have said anything?

It doesn’t matter anyway.

Billie was wine. Aromatic, warm in her stomach. She was a magnificent swirl. She was the impossible to hide stain on your favourite white dress.

Every inch of this house had Billie in its essence. She was inescapable. 

It got even worse when a buzzing noise brought your attention to your phone. “Who the fuck could that be?” you asked yourself. Your heart dropped at the contact.

Billie Dean Howard is calling...

Your world collapsed for a moment as you stared at the phone buzz. Your head told you not to answer, your heart launched for it like a desert oasis. You let it ring a moment too long. You barely managed to blurt out a cracked, “Hello?” when Billie hung up. Presumably giving up.

You bit your lip. Your thumb hovered over the redial button as you fought with yourself. Maybe she’ll call again. That’s a huge maybe. Your finger jolted down unintentionally. Billie picked up on the third ring.

“Y/N?” Her breath hitched. “Y/N, can you hear me?”

You swallowed hard. “I’m here,” you stated flatly, “I can hear you.”

“I didn’t think you’d answer.”

“Honestly,” you replied. You felt no need for warmth. “I don’t think I meant to.”

“Oh. Uhm, how- how are you?”

“What do you want, Billie? It’s five in the morning,” You cut off. You could hear Billie’s breath falter a little.

“To be honest, I just wanted to see if you would pick up.”

You shook your head, cursing how well you knew the medium. “Don’t lie to me, Howard.”

Billie chuckled. “How can you tell?”

“You were the medium, but I was the human lie detector.”

“You’re a lawyer with an Irish mother and Scilian father. It would be more shocking if you weren’t one.”

You smiled, before catching yourself in an eyeroll. “Don’t change the subject.”

“I’m in town. I wanted to see you.”

“It’s five in the fucking morning.”

“You’re telling me that I actually woke you up? You were sleeping when I called?”

You bit your lip. “Yes.”

Billie chuckled again. Like it was a fucking game to her. “Well, now who’s lying?”

“What do you want, Billie?” You scoffed.

“I already told you. I want to see you.”

The audacity of the last sentence. The fact that you knew Billie Dean would come whether or not she was invited boiled your blood.

“Why.” It was more of a flat remark than a genuine question. Why. Why now.

Billie was silent for a moment. “I just want to see your face.”

Your groaned internally, another eyeroll coming into play. You scoffed. “You know the address. Find your own way over.”

And she did. The door knocked almost immediately.

You opened the door so quickly that it creaked aggressively.

“You have some fucking nerve. You know that right?” You snapped. The medium’s eyes widened in shock.

“Nice to see you too.”

You stepped aside and ushered her in, cold from the whipping air. Refreshing if you weren’t standing in shorts and a cardigan.

Billie turned around to face her. Tension grew, like insulation keeping everything in. You could choke on all the words you never said. 

“You look beautiful.”

“Je vais te tuer avec mes mains nues et dormir comme un bébé après.”

“I’m flattered.”

You groaned and walked away from her and into the kitchen. You didn’t know if you would slap her, kill her, or kiss her. You were just as prepared to strangle her as you were to fuck her hard on the kitchen floor then and there, kissing every single freckle and mole on her skin. “You have three minutes,” You muttered, pouring yourself a cup of coffee to stop yourself from looking in Billie’s direction. Your heart raced at a thousand miles a second.

“I just dropped in to say hi.”

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

You were unamused. “Is that it? Are you going get out of my life again?”

Billie frowned. “Am I? Y/N, you left me.”

“Because you fucking cheated on me, Billie Dean! What? Did you want me to pretend I didn’t see it? Pretend nothing happened? Do you want me to pretend that you didn’t rebuild my ability to trust people just so you could knock it down yourself?” You shouted. The words were coming out thick and fast now apparently.

“I was so drunk, Y/N,” Billie whimpered, her eyebrows furrowed. She was in genuine pain, you could see the guilt right in her brown eyes.

And you couldn’t give a shit.

“I’ve heard this a hundred times.”

“How many times do I have to say sorry for this?”

You raised your mug to your lips. “You can say it until I’m dead.”

You met the medium’s gaze. Brown eyes waterlogged with tears. Billie dipped her face in her hands. “I don’t know if I can go through with this again.”

You snapped again. “Good,” you said. “Because I’m done.”

“You can’t be serious.”

The pair met, closer than you had in months.

“No matter what stupid, thoughtless, selfish, idiotic, drunken things you said or did. No matter how many times. I have never stopped loving you. I’ve never fallen out of love no matter how many times I told myself I had. I haven’t gone to sleep without imaging your goddamn mouth on my lips and hands on my body and I fucking crave to hate you for it,” you spat, venom on you tongue and tears spilled down your face. “I don’t sleep, Billie. I don’t sleep because I know your arms aren’t there to hold me when I’m still awake at four in the morning. Because I can’t reach across the bed no matter how angry I am at you and feel your hair. I fucking love you goddammit. You threw that away. Not me.”

 Tears streamed down Billie’s face. “I regret what I did every. Single. Fucking. Day. I miss coming home and seeing you writing those stupid fucking reports that I know you hate writing because I know you hate your job. I miss seeing your face when you’ve won a case that has been scratching you for weeks,” she inched forward once more, her hands close to Mallorie’s face. “I miss seeing you reorganising the goddamn silverware every few weeks to keep the Fair Folk happy in the same way I miss seeing the way your mouth curls when you come.”

 You scanned Billie Dean, searching despreately for a bluff, something that would give way to the fact that this was all a lie; a gimmick for a one night stand so that you could just shut her out and go back to hating her. Hating the person you love is so much easier than having your heartbroken again. You couldn’t find that bluff. Even your gut-instinct that panged you when someone lied to you wasn’t alerting anything. Billie’s words were as genuine as her tears and it was killing you to see that Billie loved you. The lawyer had hoped- prayed even- that the medium’s words had been bullshit, sweet nothings that could be whispered into the ear of any lover that had fallen into her bed. But you weren’t just a one time fling that had walked into a casual meet. You had walked into her long-term girlfriend with her tongue down another’s throat. You had stashed that little red box with a diamond engagement ring inside even further into the closet that night, and that’s what had hurt you.

A raw truth in her words soaked into you. Refreshed you. They were the words that the ocean screamed back at you when you stood on the cliffside begging for a reason to go on.

And so you gave in. Almost, at least. You stepped forward into Billie and allowed her storm to engulf you. There was no calm here. There was a raging appetite for destruction and creation. What was that lyric? A tornado has met a volcano. Her lips ravaged yours to the point of being rubbed raw, the type of sting that bothered virtually every moment of your waking day, one that went on for days. You bit down on her lips, her tongue, her chin and cheek. Whether in was in spite or the desperation to seek and find every single piece of her that you could was unclear. 

Those fateful memories crept back, and you pushed hard against her chest. Billie’s lips, now red, white and swollen, pressed against yours again, retracting when there was no return.

“I’m sorry,” you lied. “I think there’s a possibility that I don’t love you.”

Billie’s eyes resembled a broken mirror, or maybe the view of a dying star. The thing about dying stars is that they died a very long time ago and you only notice years later. She nodded with a weak smile. “I understand,” she whispered, pressing her head against yours. She picked up her bag and turned to leave.

You stopped her. What on Earth were you doing? Let her leave so you can hate her in peace.

“Kiss me. Before you go,” you pleaded. “Hard.”

Billie shook her head, her face scrunched before throwing her face at you. The force drove you into the counter sending a glorious shock of pain up your back. Billie was doing what you had asked.

“Fuck you,” you pulled away and muttered, as if she had gonr too far in teasing you.

“What did I do?”

You raised your hand and slapped her face, lightly. “Fuck you for proving that I still love you.”

A rush of relief knocked Billie, visibly. She returned to your lips, much more gently this time, as if she were savouring every part of you.

“I told you to kiss me hard,” you whispered, although not necessarily opposed to Billie’s touch.

“I’ll do anything you really want,” she replied.

You paused for a moment. “Anything?”

Billie smiled. “Anything.”

You kissed her once. Soft. Tentatively. “Fuck me. On the table.” 

[sunflowersunshinevol6]

Wicked Lovely

Pairing: Harry Styles x Fem!OC

Warnings: party, rave, alcohol, abusive parent

Chapter summary: Harry and Althea's first encounter

Wicked Lovely Prologue

A/N: hello! I hope you guys enjoy this chapter. I'm sorry if it's not what you expected, just have to lay the foundation for the story. Thank you so much for taking the time to read it, please let me know your thoughts💕

]"A rave?" Harry asked, raising his eyebrow as he looked at the sheet of neon green paper Mitch had handed to him. His friend nodded, leaning down to shoot the ball in front of him. Harry cursed mentally as Mitch got two balls in the side pockets. Mitch was great at pool.

They were in a sports bar, it was relatively empty, aside from a few other patrons. They were the only ones playing pool at the moment.

"It'll be fun." Mitch prompted him, "drinks, girls, music, dancing. You might like it." Harry smirked, bending forward to take his turn.

"....everyone's gonna be there," Hannah tugged Althea behind her as they entered Grate's. It was their usual weekday lunch spot, nothing like greasy burgers and crispy fries before going back to work a job you hate. "What's the harm in going?" She asked Althea as they took their usual seats at the bar.

"My dad will have an aneurism." Althea said quietly. It wasnt that she didn't want to go. She did. But she was afraid of her father. What he would and could do.

"Althea you're 22 years old. You're an adult." She shrugged.

"His house, his rules." Hannah shook her head, tapping her nails on the counter. Althea really hated the sound, it grated on her already high strung nerves.

"Sure mate...maybe it'll be alright." Harry said, pulling a twenty from his pocket and handing it to Mitch.

"That's what I'm talking about." Mitch chuckled, smirking at his friend. Harry laughed along, picking up his beer to finish it off. As he lifted his eyes away from Mitch he saw her.

And she saw him.

If there ever was such a thing as electricity and sparks, this was their moment. Harry felt his lips part and sucked in sharply as their eyes met. The image of her sitting at the bar becoming seared into his brain.

She wore a black t shirt, loose but flattering to her body and ripped blue Jean's rolled on the bottom. Her shoes were converse and her hair was as dark as espresso coffee. He couldn't make out the color of her eyes, but if Angel's existed he was sure she was one of them.

"Harry?" Mitch said, waving his hand in front of his friend's face. Harry jerked, eyes snapping away from her quickly. Mitch followed his gaze, whistling low when he saw the girls. "Well they are gorgeous aren't they?" He handed Harry his coat.

"Yeah," he replied, shoving his arms through the sleeves. "She is."

Althea's heart pounded as she watched the boy leave the bar, heading out the door with his friend. She wasn't sure why, but something in her wanted to chase after him. It was a scary feeling.

"Althea?" Hannah asked, grabbing her friend's attention. "Just think about it okay? You might have fun." Althea smiled, choosing to let go of the stranger for now.

"Sure Hannah. Yeah."

Home was not a place Althea enjoyed being. As Hannah pulled up outside the red bricked house Althea could feel the anxiety that usually plagued her every time she came back. If there was a hell this was truly hers.

"Hey..." hannah said softly, "I'll pick you up at eleven alright?" Althea nodded, opening the door. " be strong! You got this!" Hannah shouted after her.

The house was quiet as Althea entered it. The familiar smell of incense filling her nose as she shut the door behind her, hoping to tip toe up to her room.

"Althea?" A gruff voice called as she tried to sneak past the living room. She groaned quietly, turning on her heel to see her father.

He stood in front of his lazy boy chair, eyes blood shot, shirt drenched in sweat. He looked as though he hadn't showered in a couple days. "Althea where were you?" He asked. His voice was gentle, but the demanding nature beneath the words were throw at her, daring her to lie.

"Work. Remember dad?" He scoffed, picking up his beer and chugging the rest of it. Althea grimaced in disgust as he let the liquid dribble down his chin. "I was at work....but...but I'm going out later tonight as well. I'll be back home tomorrow after work," she hoped to convey confidence in her voice, but the way it cracked revealed that she was faking. Marcus Martinez narrowed his eyes at her, she watched as he grit his teeth, clenching and clenching his fists.

"There's a boy....there's a boy isn't there?" He snarled. Althea backed up as he began to slowly make his way to her.

"N-no dad. I'm going out with Hann-" he lunged at her, grabbing her by her hair and yanking her towards him. The foul odor of his body, beer and cigarettes nearly made her vomit.

"They can smell you. They come sniffing the second you become a woman. I know. Well you arent going. You're staying here. I won't have you whoring yourself out like your mother." He snarled, spittle flying. He grabbed her face as she tried to fight her off, squeezing her cheeks between his fingers so hard her teeth cut into her flesh.

"D...daddy please." She begged.

"You're my little girl." He said slowly, dangerously. "You're mine. And if you're thinkin' of runnin' I'll do to you what I should have done to your mother before she ever got the chance to run." With that threat he let go of her, shoving her to the floor. Althea laid her face down on the cool hardwood, watching the shadows of her father's footsteps retreat, the slamming of the front door as he left.

Once he was gone she cried, slamming her fists against the floor in anger. She hated her life. She hated her father. She hated her mother. And she hated herself. Hated that she didn't have the balls to just walk out. Because as evil as her father could be, he was still her dad. And right now, that was all she had.

"Al?" Her father opened the door to her room only slightly, peering in at his only daughter. She lie in bed, covered up on her side. He entered quietly, a glass of water in his hand. "Al?" He said again, sitting down beside her and placing the glass on her bedside table. She didn't respond, the only movement from her was the slow rise and fall of her chest as she breathed deeply.

"Al I'm sorry....I know I've got a problem. I'm gonna go to AA.....just don't give up on me. Dont abandon me like your mother did. I need you." With that he placed a kiss on her hair and left the room, turning the light off behind him.

As soon as he shut the door Althea rolled onto her back, throwing her blanket off of herself. She felt like such a cringey teenage cliche as she got up and snuck over to her window. She could see Hannah's car parked on the side walk, sitting idly waiting for her.

She had never snuck out before, and she felt ridiculous doing it now, but her father's threat weighed heavily on her and what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

"Hey!" She said breathlessly, hopping into Hannah's car. Hannah observed her friend, she wore a ripped and faded AC/DC t shirt, black skinny Jean's and combat boots. Hannah whistled teasingly.

"Lookin' good sista! Ready to go?" Althea nodded, unable to hide the excitement she felt.

The rave was in an abandoned industrial building on the outskirts of town. Althea couldn't believe how many people were there as Hannah pulled up and parked. Music thumped from within the building, lights flashing brightly and illuminating the darkness outside.

People sat on their cars, in their cars, talking and dancing without a care in the world. Hannah tugged Althea along towards the building, pulling her into the crowded space.

Althea's senses were assaulted all at once. The music pounded through her body as lights flashed and glowed brightly in front of her, the smell of sex and alcohol filling the air. She clung to Hannah as they made their way through the crowd towards the bar.

"Hey!" Hannah shouted at the bartender as they sat down. "Two shots of tequila please!"

"Hannah no," Althea tried to protest.

"Its just one shot Al. You'll be fine." Hannah thanked the bartender as he handed her the shots, she pushed one small glass into her friend's hand, raising her own. "To you! Finally getting out!" Hannah shouted proudly. Althea couldn't help but laugh and clink their glasses together before downing the shot. Althea grimaced at the taste, coughing as it burned her throat.

"Ugh." She groaned. Hannah chuckled.

"You feel like dancing?" She asked. Althea shook her head.

"I'm just gonna sit here for a bit. You go ahead!" Hannah gave her a thumbs up before disappearing into the crowded dancefloor.

I can't believe I'm actually here. Althea thought to herself. She smiled smugly, turning back to ask the bartender for another shot.

She felt a presence suddenly, taking the seat Hannah had been in. Althea turned, her eyes slowly taking in the person beside her only to feel her breath catch in her throat.

It was the boy from the sports bar earlier. He smiled down at her easily, his green eyes darkened by the shadows in the room.

"Hi." He said, she caught the accent, it was smooth and rolled easily off his tongue.

"Hi." She said, her mind blank. Of all the things that could happen in the world....

" 'm Harry," he said, extending his hand.

"Althea," she said, shaking it. His hand was warm, calloused and his grip was firm as he shook her hand, holding onto it for a moment longer than he needed to.

"That's a beautiful name," he said. "I saw you earlier....at the restaurant. Is your friend here?" Althea felt her heart drop. Of course he would be interested in Hannah. She was gorgeous, blonde hair blue eyes. She tried to hide her disappointment.

"I'm sure you can find her in the crowd," she answered. "She wanted to dance." Althea went to turn back to the bar but Harry stopped her.

"That's alright. I wanted to talk to you. Just didn't know if you came alone..."

Althea looked out at the dancefloor, aware of Harry's eyes on her. "So....how come you're not dancing?" She asked finally, trying to continue the conversation. He just continued to look at her, the way he focused on her, like she was the only one in the room made her stomach flip. She had never met someone with such intense eyes.

"No one's asked me."

"Oh."

Althea nodded as an awkward silence began to grow between the two of them. She wasn't sure what he wanted from her, but she was curious.

"Do you...do you want to go outside?" Althea asked. "I mean...its quieter, we can talk better out there." He shrugged, taking her hand in his, he led her away from the bar and out the door.

The air was cool and welcome. Althea gulped deeply, loving the feel of cold fresh air in her lungs. Harry held her hand still, pulling her towards the parking lot. They walked over to a black Corvair parked near the entrance if the rave.

"This is your car?" Althea asked impressed. It was vintage, but refurbished, the seats black leather. It all looked brand new. Harry smiled proudly, opening to door for Althea to sit in the passenger seat.

"Yeah," Harry said proudly as he got in on the other side. "Saw 'er in the junkyard and thought she had potential....I rebuilt her from the ground up."

"Wow." Althea said impressed. Harry smirked

.

"It's really not that impressive." His voice was deep, his accent thick but beautiful, it made her stomach churn and twist to hear him speak.

"Are you from England?" Althea asked, "your accent?"

"Yeah...yeah I am.'

"Are your parents still there?" She didn't see the twitch in Harry's jaw or the way his hands flexed on the steering wheel, knuckles going white then relaxing again.

"Yeah...I'm here with me band. We've been tourin' playing bars, colleges...you know."

"Living that rockstar life?" Althea teased.

"Maybe." Harry chuckled. "What 'bout your parents?" He asked.

"My um..." Althea drew a blank, what about her parents? "I live with my dad...my mom left a long time ago. It's just me and him." She looked down at the floor trying to hide her discomfort.

"Seem like a nice enough girl....why do ya look so sad?" Harry asked, he could see there was something, maybe akin to the pain he himself felt. Whatever it was that had sparked his attraction to her, it was familiar. They were familiar. Althea sighed.

"Because....You seem like a nice enough guy....and I'm probably never going to see you again." She couldn't hide the disappointment in her voice. As long as her father was around she would never be allowed to have a normal life.

"It doesn't have to be like that." Harry reached out, gently placing his hand over hers. "I saw you at that sports bar...you looked at me and I felt something I never had before." His eyebrows knit as he tried to explain himself. "It was like electricity. I couldn't take my eyes off you." Althea was thankful for the darkness, he couldn't see the blush splashed across her cheeks as his words hung heavy in the air. She wanted to tell him she felt the same, that feeling of deja vu, like they had met before.

"I think," she started. "I should probably find Hannah and go home."

"You havent even danced yet." Harry joked. Althea shrugged, smiling at the green eyed boy.

"It's just...it's getting late." She said, gesturing to her watch. Harry took her hand, placing her wrist gently in his palm as he set her watch back an hour. Althea gave him a confused look, he only smiled.

"Time is an illusion." He whispered, he dropped her hand, reaching up instead to brush her hair from her face. "We have as much or as little of it as we want." Harry was so close to her face now she could feel the warmth of his breath, smell the mint of his gum. He held her gaze, not allowing her to look away, a slow smile spreading across her face as she felt herself giving in.

"Okay." After all, time is an illusion.

Marcus had gone in to check on Althea. Only to find her bed empty and her window open. The rage that built within him stormed and thrashed. How could she do this to him. Betray him like this. He sat in his lazy boy, living room dark as his thoughts screamed and his blood rose and boiled.

"If you're going to act like your mother." He grumbled darkly. "Then I'll do to you what I should have done to her."

[deansawthetvglow]

The ficlet: Welcome Home, 2.2k, post s14.

The prompt: Yo! Congrats for the 3000! I was thinking a cute ficlet of Dean finding Cas' sketch book and it's all cute drawings of Dean with little sentences or notes by Cas. Stuff like a drawing of deans sleepy waking up face and Cas' note saying "this is my 2nd favorite Dean face". for @idkmanjustgo

It’s been a week since Dean and Sam have seen Cas.

They’re stuck in the bunker, and Cas is out hunting God.

“We should be out there with him, Sammy.” Dean grumbles.

“I know Dean, but Cas can help locate him faster. Once he does, we can go help with the fight.”

Dean rolls his eyes at his brother. “How can you be so okay with Cas leaving at a time like this?”

It’s been a week since Chuck snapped his fingers and the aftermath is immense. The sky is constantly dark, black smoke blocking out the sun as demons search for available vessels to trash. Ghosts roam the earth, tied to nothing but the stench of hell. Dead men shuffle through the streets, rotting and hungry.

Cas shouldn’t be out there alone.

That’s when Dean’s phone rings and he lunges to grab it from the countertop next to the stove.

“Cas?”

“Dean. I have been...unsuccessful...in my search. I know that you would prefer me to stay away from the bunker at this time, but I’m,” an exerted grunt crackles through the phone, “quite injured and could use a place to rest.”

Dean kicks himself. It’s the end of the fucking world so of course, he had just told Cas he’s no longer welcome. “You’re dead to me.” How fucking stupid.

Dean sighs, trying not to give away how much Cas is not dead to him at all. In fact, he’s pretty much all he’s been fixating on for the entire past week and now he’s worried sick at the prospect of Cas being so injured he needs time to heal.

“Course, Cas. You, uh, you’re always welcome here.”

“I estimate my drive will be around 12 hours, considering all the chaos on the roads.”

“Sure. See you soon.”

“Goodbye, Dean.”

Dean hangs up and presses the phone to counter, letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding in.

“So, Cas is coming back?” Sam says over his book from the kitchen table.

Dean just nods and leaves the room.

He knows there’s not much he can do to help Cas, he knows that they are more fractured than they’ve been before. There’s no fiery anger or sorrow, there’s nothing to hold onto. Instead, it feels like a faux indifference, one overcompensating for true emotions and is eating away at them both.

Neither wants to show weakness. Neither wants to feel the full weight of their situation. Neither wants to admit the opposite of their indifference.

But Dean decides, fuck it, it really is the end of the world this time and he needs to make sure Castiel feels welcome in the family again.

It’s a small step, and it won’t erase the words he’s already said, but it’s in this moment that he decides to prepare Cas’ room for his arrival.

He reaches door 15 and hesitates. Castiel deserves his own god damn permanent room, not some guest room that’s only available when it’s convenient for them.

Dean decides to move Cas to room 12, just down the hall from his own. Maybe he’ll regret it but c’est la fuckin vie.

When he finally enters the guest room to collect Cas’ things, he doesn’t find much.

It’s a sterile room, lonely almost. He grabs the little photo leaned up against the lamp, the one they took back with Bobby and Jo and Ellen all those years back, a few spare buttons and some weird Enochian book with a few goats etched in gold on the front.

He turns to leave when he notices the corner of a piece of paper peeking out from under the bed.

When Dean leans down to grab it, he realizes, it’s not just a piece. It’s a whole notebook.

The pages are sturdy and lightly creme tinted and the cover is white, simple, smooth, blank.

He knows he shouldn’t, but once he reaches room 12 and sets the knickknacks he found down on the desk, he sits on the edge of the bed and opens the journal.

What he sees first makes him gasp.

It’s a hand on a shoulder from a high perspective. There are terrible faces screaming, warped, muddled together in the background, but there is a light, replicated by the contrast from perfect charcoal shading, that blinds in the foreground.

The bottom corner reads “Dean Winchester is Saved”

Dean’s mind flashes back to his first moment seeing the scar from Castiel. His stomach lurches.

Dean never expected Castiel to be an artist, but now, seeing the magnificence of something so simple, his heart yearns to turn the page. He knows there’s something wrong about looking through someone else’s notes, but he can’t help it.

He does.

This page is eyes. His eyes.

Angry eyes. Soft eyes. Closed eyes with long lashes. Crying eyes. Eyes with pupils so dilated, Dean can see love. A few of the eyes are framed by expressive brows, some sketches reach down to the tops of freckled cheekbones.

He breathes deeply and closes his own eyes, letting his finger softly run down the page, not enough to smudge it, but just enough to feel the intensity at which these were drawn.

He opens his eyes.

Turns the page.

This page is noses. All the same one. Freckles spattered meticulously over them. Some are side profiles, others, straight on. Some flared, some scrunched. Dean never thought a nose could be a muse, and yet...

Another page flipped means he reaches lips. Dean lifts a finger to his own to trace the shape. These are his lips. They are drawn lightly open, smiling, pressed together, shouting.

One depiction has his lips locked with another’s. His lips dominate the image so he can’t pick out who’s they are. He wonders if he’s kissed that set of lips before. He wonders if they are Castiel’s, but quickly shakes the thought from his head.

Another page turned and he’s not sure how to feel.

It’s his entire profile, perfected. Mimicked sunlight hits his face and his eyes gleam in the light. His face is sharp and determined, but his eyes fool no one.

This one is labeled, “Dean running us through a case. It’s morning, the sun rises and warms us through a dirty motel window. I don’t remember the case. I was too busy looking at him.”

The next page is him sleeping. He wishes he felt weird about it, wishes he hated that Cas had drawn him like this, messy hair and parted lips and cheek squished into a soft pillow, but he can’t help but feel warm and soft and flattered.

The accompanying note does nothing to settle the butterflies in his stomach.

“Dean didn’t sleep well last night, he doesn’t usually. He sleeps angry. But we returned from a case in Illinois last night and he needed true rest. I snuck in and gave him a dream. Here is his face when he’s dreaming of picnics with a woman he saw on a billboard for shampoo yesterday.”

He keeps turning pages, settles back into the pillows on the bed and lets his feet swing up. He flips and gazes for a long while.

There are countless images of bees drawn on the sides of pages, one page is an entire hive of them, honeycomb patterning in the back.

There are a few drawings of Sam and Jack here and there as well. Sam looks so happy in one of the sketches that Dean’s heart nearly bursts. He hasn’t seen Sam that happy since...ever...and seeing it, well, maybe it should make him sad, but he can’t bring himself to care. It’s perfect and it makes Dean think it’d be possible to see that exact expression on his brother’s face sometime.

Sometime soon, he hopes.

There’s one page in a cartoon style that depicts Jack as a superhero, a whole costume design and everything. “Angel Man” written messily at the top.

Dean snorts into the silence, Cas, you are such a huge dork.

Finally, he reaches one of the last pages, and he shuts the book abruptly. He squeezes his eyes and holds the book between two hands against his chest. He looks up at the concrete ceiling and tries to calm himself by counting air bubbles in the harsh grey above.

He can’t resist it though.

Tentatively, he opens the book again, to the place his thumb subconsciously kept for him.

It’s not just lips this time.

It’s their faces, the entirety of each, down to the shoulders. Dean is pressed up against the line of a wall and Castiel’s thumb is resting on his cheek as the rest of his hand disappears by the nape of his neck.

Dean’s hand is hidden by Cas’ face but he can see his fingers buried and tugging lightly at black hair. Castiel’s face is so sincere, like every emotion he has ever felt as an angel— anguish, doubt, fear, devotion, loyalty, love(?)—is committed to one kiss. Dean’s face is less complex, it’s accepting and relaxed and wanting.

Dean isn’t sure how Cas depicted such emotions on the page, maybe used some angel mojo or something, but all he knows is he can feel the kiss. The weight of it. The importance.

Most of all, he feels the want.

He wishes he didn’t. He wishes Cas hadn’t gotten his face so painfully right, but he had. Everything that he had built up in his chest was screaming to be let out.

Holding those feelings down had been worse than locking down Michael— perhaps that’s why he had been so good at keeping the archangel in captivity for so long.

Dean lets his eyes roam the page once more before noticing the tiny phrase written in the lower right corner, “A dream.”

His heart flutters and he gingerly closes the book this time. He sits up and sets it on the bedside table.

Running a hand through his hair, Dean lets the silence overtake him.

He wants nothing more than to feel turmoil about this. He wants to feel angry or betrayed or confused. But he doesn’t.

All he can feel, book set aside, silence settling, is peace.

With that, he finally stands. He turns down the sheets and fluffs the pillows. Adds another, extra-soft blanket from the bottom drawer of the cabinet to make it feel even more like home. Then, impulsively, he tears one of the last empty pages from the angel’s sketchbook and scribbles onto it, setting it gently on the pillow.

When he’s finished, he slips out of the room, leaving the door ajar.

—

Cas got home exactly when he thought he would.

When evening rolled around, he was pulling in to the bunker garage and walking in to greet Sam and Dean in the kitchen.

When he did, he was limping, eyes heavy and tired.

Sam was first to rise and greet him by supporting him and helping him hobble forward.

“Is there anything I need to check out for you? Are you okay?”

His voice is scratchy, but it comes out okay, “Just need rest. Thank you, Sam.”

Dean stayed silent, staring at Cas and Sam slink through the kitchen to the hallway. He sipped the whiskey in his hand for a moment before standing and following the two.

When Sam nearly let go of Cas to open the door of room 15 for him Dean let out a “Nope. 12.”

Sam looked over his shoulder at Dean leaning against the wall and half glared.

“Little help here?”

Dean moved forward and passed the two before pushing open the door to room 12 and letting them walk past.

Sam gently lowered Cas to sit on the bed. Cas smiled as he saw all of his things neatly resting on his nightstand. Finally, he turned and picked up the note on his pillow.

Welcome Home.

He read it, and Dean watched as the angel’s cheeks turned pink as he felt the familiar material of the paper under his fingers.

Cas first looked to Sam, but Sam shook his head, already knowing the question on Castiel’s mind.

“Then...who?”

Dean broke a bit at the utter confusion on Castiel’s face. How could he have said something so hurtful that Cas couldn’t even comprehend a “welcome home” coming from him?

Dean let his eyes flick over to Sam, who in turn nodded towards Cas with a soft smile. With that, Sam turned and left the room.

Dean cleared his throat. “Yeah, welcome home, Cas.” And washed down the rasp with a swig of his whiskey.

Cas just looked up at Dean with a mix of fear and wonder in his eyes.

“Thank you, Dean, this means,” he brought the note close to his chest and let his eyes close, “so much.”

Dean couldn’t stop his feet from moving him to sit beside Cas. But he didn’t really mind.

He placed a hand on Cas’s shoulder and let the wave of blue that hit him when Cas’ eyes were trained to his own wash over him.

Dean quirked his lips into a half smile.

Cas’ eyes, usually so set, flicked to his hands. “I assume you’ve seen my sketches.”

With that, Dean slid his hand off of Cas’ shoulder and brought it to rub his chin.

“Yeah, listen, I am so s-“

But before he could finish Castiel rushed out a “Please don’t be angry.”

Dean’s stomach twisted with guilt.

“Cas, no.”

Castiel was squeezing his eyes shut, the note in his hand now crumpled from the pressure of his fist.

“Cas, hey,” Dean breathed out again. His heart rate quickened as he reached out his index finger and placed it under the angel’s chin, moving to guide his face towards him, “look at me.”

Now facing Dean, Castiel opened his eyes and saw something he never expected. Something he never drew for fear of not having the privilege of seeing it in real life.

He saw Dean longing for him.

Like a low roll of thunder in the distance, “Dean.”

And then Dean was leading Castiel’s chin forward and bringing his lips to meet his own.

The touch was feather light at first, hesitant, but then he was pushing closer when Castiel didn’t pull away.

Their lips were slotted perfectly together.

Heaven and Hell. Angel and Man. Dean and Castiel.

When their lips finally parted, Dean refused to let Castiel away completely. He set his forehead gently against Cas’ and looked into the blur of perfect blue. Tears were leaking from the angel’s eyes, and Dean furrowed his brow in concern as he wiped one away with the pad of his thumb.

There were no words, but Dean understood. He knew what his angel was feeling. He had seen it before in charcoal.

That night, Dean didn’t sleep in his own room, and Castiel rested, drawing the details of an arm draped over his torso and a face pressed against his chest and legs intertwined with his.

Home.

[thinkyoureholy]

The Phoenix [2]

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Pairing : Park Chanyeol / [Fem] Reader

Genre : Angst, Violence, Language, Fluff, Future Smut, Character Death?, Fantasy! AU

Words : 2k

Pt 1. Pt 2. Pt 3. Pt 4. Pt 5. Pt 6.

≫ ──── ≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫ ──── ≪

-Y/N’s P.O.V-

I walked through the halls of the palace, stretching my hands and arms as I walked. It had been a few days since Junmyeon had come back with any useful information and I never really liked the idea of just sitting and waiting so I moved up my training time since he and the others were here. I shed my cloak at the entrance, leaving me in my training clothes. I rolled my shoulders back and cracked my neck, closing my eyes before letting out a breath through my nose. I looked out into the field to see them already there, doing their own stretches.

“Alright, who’s first?” I asked, Sehun immediately stepping up.

“Enthusiastic as always, Oh Sehun. A fine quality to have.” 

He smirked, rolling his own shoulders, flexing his fingers, “You flatter me, your highness.”

That was all he said before he launched his attack. The wind swirled around his feet, lifting him off the ground. I smiled to myself at feeling his wind attack coming towards me. I brought my hand up in front of me, creating a barrier of my own wind, his attack doing nothing against it. With a flick of my wrist a strong gust of wind hit him from behind, sending him to the ground beneath him. He was quick enough to disperse enough wind to push him back up but I was quicker. This time, only giving a flick of my finger I sent a whirl wind at him, knocking him on his back, literally knocking the wind out of him. He propped himself up on his elbow, gasping for air.

“You...really don’t know how to hold back do you?” He asked once he regained his breath, drawing a smirk from me.

“That was me holding myself back.”

He flopped back onto his back at my words, waving his hand dismissively, a sign of his surrender. I looked over at the other two, Minseok stepping up wordlessly. I grinned properly this time, always looking forward to fighting against him. His attacks would always get my blood pumping, he made me love the power I had. 

Without a word he ran at me, leaving ice on the ground with every step. I chuckled as I ran at him as well, creating a curved wall of ice as I ran, using my momentum to practically skate across it. He had a hint of a smile on his face when he saw me do so, skidding to a stop just before he reached me. He let himself fall back, twisting his body mid fall so he was now facing the ground underneath him. He placed both arms out in front of him, his open palms facing the ground. In a flash he had ice propelling him away from the ground, heading straight at me. My eyes widened as I cursed, trying to stop myself but he was too quick. While in mid air he twirled around to face me, a grin on his face. My heart sank at the look. He only wore a grin like that when he was about to win...and not once had I been able to beat him when he showed that grin. I grit my teeth as I built up a wall of ice in between us but it wasn’t strong enough to hold him off. He burst through the wall, shards of ice falling over me, a shard knicking the side of my face. I grit my teeth, trying to withstand the sheer force he was using but he was too strong. He knocked me off my feet before I could even think of what to do. I let out a huff as I stared up at him, a makeshift spear aimed at my throat.

“As expected of the Kim Minseok. You surprise me every time, General.” I said, watching a smirk take the place of his grin.

“I didn’t get my rank because of my good looks, your highness.” 

I chuckled at his words, taking the hand he offered. I dusted myself off, just now feeling the stinging coming from my cheek. Without giving it much thought I brought a hand up, my fingertips covered in water, healing myself within seconds.

“Alright...Junmyeon, you’re next.” I said, waving my hand through the air, water swallowing my arm whole.

Junmyeon gave a nod of his head, cracking his neck as water wrapped around his legs. Minseok quickly moved out of the way, grabbing Sehun who was still lying on the ground and dragged him away. Once those two were at a safe distance Junmyeon began his attack.

Water rained down heavily over me, obscuring my vision for a moment. I set my jaw and swiped a hand above my head, sending a huge wave of water upwards, engulfing the water, the water evaporating into the air. I had taken my eyes of Junmyeon for less than a second and in that time he vanished. I looked around, trying to find him but he wasn’t anywhere in sight. Suddenly I felt a chill run down my spine, my face paled, knowing what it meant. Before I could even turn around I felt water wrap around my ankle in a vice grip, lifting me off the ground. I cursed, my other ankle and wrists being bound the same way.

“You’ve gotten faster.” I said, trying to flex my fingers discreetly but he saw right through me.

“Ah ah ah, I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” He said while something sharp poked at my back.

I sighed heavily, knowing I lost, “Fine, you win. Happy now?”

The corners of his mouth twitched upwards for a moment before he controlled it, biting back a smile. He gently put me down, a pensive look in his duo colored eyes.

“You should have been able to at least dodge that. I’m fast but I know you’re faster, if only by a little bit.” He said, crossed his arms over his chest.

“You’ve probably gotten better is all. I sure hope you have, being the head general of my armies and all I expect you to be the best of the best. And you’re just that.” I said with a smile, hoping he’d drop the subject as I stared at the ground under my feet.

I have been distracted...but I didn’t want anyone to know about it. Those dreams...they’ve been happening every night. Some nights I didn’t even sleep because I didn’t want to relive those memories. Truth be told I was afraid of the threat it made that first night. I wouldn’t be surprised if it could actually take back control. Out of all my powers that damn darkness was the one I could never really control. It had a mind and will of its own. I didn’t even want to think about what it would be like if it took over like it threatened to. That darkness was death itself, the reaper come to life and an entity that can destroy all life if it so chooses. 

“Y/N?”

I looked up at the sound of my name, looking into Junmyeon’s worried eyes. He just stared into my eyes without a word, trying to figure out what I was thinking but it was no use, my eyes never gave anything away. He sighed heavily, calling the others over with a wave of his hand.

“I guess that’s it for training, we’ll be in the palace for a few more days before going out to patrol again. We’ll train you for a few hours in those days, hopefully you’ll improve...and stay focused this time.” Junmyeon said.

I looked over all of them, seeing their colored eye glowing faintly. Sehun’s silver eye shined brightly, Minseok sapphire one glowed a striking blue while Junmyeon’s turquoise eye glowed extra bright, the sun reflecting off of it beautifully. Their one colored eye contrasted heavily to their other dark brown eye but it suited them well. They were granted this when they became generals, their one colored eye a symbol of their status within my army. They all bowed deeply before straightening out. Sehun and Minseok left immediately while Junmyeon lingered. He opened his mouth, hesitating once again. I couldn’t help but smile fondly at that.

“I’m fine, Jun. Don’t worry about me, if something was bothering me I’d tell you...you know that right?” I said, lying straight through my teeth.

He smiled softly at my words, his eyes gazing at me warmly, “Alright. I’ll be close by so just shout if you need me.”

I nodded, watching him walk away with a hint of a smile on my face but once he was out of sight all traces of a smile were gone. I heard it laugh before it appeared, my jaw setting at the sound.

‘Lying now are we? That’s not a quality befitting a queen…’

I clenched my hands into fists at it’s words, “What the hell do you want?”

‘What? I can’t just come out to have a friendly chat? We do share the same body we-’

“We sure as hell do not share the same body. This body is mine and mine alone.”

‘Oh? Is it now? Then how come I can do this?’

As soon as it finished talking I lost all feeling in my left arm. I watched with wide as as it slowly came up, my own fingers wrapping around my throat.

‘Still think you’re the only one in control?’

-Chanyeol’s P.O.V-

I propped a knee up, leaning my elbow onto it as I rested my face against my open palm. I watched her train against her own generals. Aside from beating the one that controlled wind she lost the other two fights. Either she’s weaker than I expected or she’s holding back. I’d understand why she would hold back but to do so at the expense of losing a battle, even if it was a mock one was beyond my understanding.

“What do you think, brother?” Jongin asked from beside me, his eyes on her and her men.

I said nothing, raising a brow when the other two left her and the head general alone. Oh ho what do we have here? I asked myself as I took in the look in his eyes. I couldn’t help but grin at seeing it, wondering if she saw it as well. This was fantastic..just another weakness I could exploit.

“I think we might just have something interesting in our sights.” I said with a grin, watching him leave her.

I stood up, dusting myself off, ready to leave this place when I stopped. I noticed that she was just stand there, not moving. I tilted my head to the side, curiosity making me stay put but I wish I hadn’t. Within the next moment a shadow cast over her, completely blocking her from the sun. That shadow had my heart sinking to the pit of my stomach as a chill ran down my spine. I had never experienced a fear this intense before in my life, or so I thought. It was so intense I stumbled back unconsciously, wanting to get as far away from it as possible. That shadow reeked of death, the phoenix within me recoiling at the sight.

“Chanyeol? What’s wrong?”

I swallowed harshly, pointing at that thing that wrapped around her shoulder, “That--what the hell is that?”

Jongin looked over her, a knowing look in his eyes, “Ah...that’s what they call her darkness. It’s basically death in human form. Though it looks like a mere mist to our eyes I heard it could take on a human form, some say it possesses her body when it truly wants to come out. The white haired and white eyed queen would have eyes and hair so black it would swallow up any light in the room wheb that happens...or so they say.”

This ‘darkness' I’ve seen it once before...on that day fifteen years ago. That was the only other time I had felt fear such as the one I was feeling in the very moment. That day of the incident. It made sense now, why it appeared in their home, she must’ve sent it out.

“Huh...well this sure is interesting.”

[e350tb]

Steven Universe: Marooned Together - Chapter Forty-Eight

Chapter Forty-Eight

“You guys sure you’re gonna be alright?” asked Lars.

“I can help,” added Sadie, “I…”

“We don’t know if the Diamonds have an override for you,” said Garnet. “Until we can check back on New Earth, it’s safer if you go back to the Sun Incinerator.”

“I… okay, yeah.” Sadie nodded. “Good luck, guys.”

Stevonnie, Lapis and Garnet watched as Lars, Sadie and Lenny disappeared back down the dark corridor. Stevonnie bit their lip, turning away from them and gazing ahead - there was a set of doors ahead, open just a crack - enough to expose the total darkness within. They swallowed.

Lapis took their hand.

“You okay?” she asked.

Stevonnie nodded.

“Yeah,” they said. “I’m fine.”

Slowly, they stepped forward, heading into the unknown. Stevonnie went first, sliding gently through the crack and onto the other side.

“Okay,” they said, turning around. “Now it’s your-”

SLAM.

Stevonnie jumped back as the door slammed shut, leaving them alone in darkness. As the echo of the crashing slam slowly died away, they could hear muffled pounding on the door, and cries of their name.

“Lapis!” they cried.

They reached for the door, trying to get their fingers into the crack to pull it open. It was nearly completely useless - not even their nails fit.

“Hold on!” they shouted, “I’ll try to find a way around!”

“Hello, Rose.”

The hairs on the back of their neck prickled, and though there were about a million things they would rather do at that moment, Stevonnie turned around.

A small ray of natural light shone through the old roof, just enough to create a narrow  spotlight - underneath it stood a porcelien-white pearl, her eye cracked, her mouth twisted (there was no other word) into a smile. She floated a few inches off the ground, her remaining eye almost unfocused even as it stared at them.

“White Diamond’s Pearl,” they whispered.

“Starlight,” said White Pearl. It sounded like a greeting.

“I know who you really are,” growled Stevonnie.

“As do I - even if you don’t.”

White Pearl’s smile widened ever so slightly.

“In fact, I know a lot more than you think,” she continued. “I’m very glad you’ve come here, Starlight - sometimes you have to break a gem to save her. And nothing breaks a gem quite like the truth…”

“What?” Stevonnie titled their head.

“Oh Starlight… did you really think your ‘rebellion’ was unique?”

White Pearl extended an arm and clicked her fingers. A light burst into being, brilliant and white, shining onto a mural on the wall. It was White Diamond, arms extended - but her gem looked markedly different. It was flat both on top and on the bottom, and it seemed considerably larger.

“Long ago,” she said, “White Diamond was whole.”

---

“We have to get through to them!”

Lapis pounded on the wall, both with her hands and giant, watery fists - the sturdy structure refused to budge an inch. Garnet paced behind her, looking around for an alternative way inside. She could see nothing, just the corridor stretching back the way they had come.

“We can try another floor,” she declared, “Maybe…”

“I wouldn't do that if I were you.”

A section of wall to their left shifted, undergrowth brushed aside. A pair of Chrysalis drones floated out, followed by the tiny form of Aquamarine, wand extended. Then, floating in her stasis aura behind her, came a prisoner…

“C?”

C was hurled to the ground - she already looked battered, her visor cracked and her hair ruffled.

“Your friends,” sniffed Aquamarine, “left this defect behind when they fled the foyer.”

“That's not true,” coughed C, “I… I told ‘em to go ahead… they… they're already halfway back to the Sun Incinerator, and when they get-”

Aquamarine flicked up her wand, and C was sent hurtling into the roof with a mighty crash. She flicked down again, slamming her to the floor once more.

“Now here’s how this is going to work,” declared Aquamarine. “Either you'll surrender, or I'll shatter this dumb little Peridot against the wall…”

---

“When White Diamond was young,” continued White Pearl, “she was plagued with imperfections. And so she trimmed them off. Her stubbornness and inflexibility became Yellow. Her irrationality and emotiveness became Blue. And her distracting empathy and passion became…”

Stevonnie looked down at their gem and rubbed it.

“Pink,” they said.

“No,” said White Pearl. “You.”

She snapped her fingers once more. Two more lights - yellow and blue - illuminated the images  of the respective Diamonds. Each sat on a large chair, like that which had been on the moon base, leaning down - they seemed to be listening to a small figure.

“Each of them was young and inexperienced - each of them had their own ideas. Each of them needed a test of loyalty.”

“A… test?” Stevonnie tilted their head.

“Their first colony,” said White Pearl. “Always chosen to meet the right criteria - an organic civilisation in a pre-industrial state, unusual natural ‘beauty,’ production of coarse and unrefined gems like quartzes and rubies. That alone was temptation to doubt the natural order - but White Diamond knew they needed one more thing. A specially constructed factor…”

White Pearl glanced towards the small figure in Yellow Diamond’s mural.

“A temptress.”

“A… what?”

White Pearl’s smile changed - now it felt almost familiar. The voice that came next sounded vastly different, almost like a recording.

“You look so happy.”

Stevonnie shook their head.

“I… I don't understand…”

“They won't find out,” continued White Pearl, “Because you look just like a quartz… you changed you shape for a day!”

The penny dropped.

“No…” Stevonnie stepped back. “You can't… that doesn't make sense…”

“What if we took some time to explore some of Earth's other features?”

“Stop… stop!”

“Oh, but it makes sense, doesn't it Starlight?” White Pearl continued. “It was her idea to go to Earth. It was her idea for you to become Rose Quartz… or was it Lemon Quartz? Or Blue Quartz? And why was her gem on her forehead, Starlight? Why did she wear all four colours?”

“She… she wasn't…”

“She was.” 

White Pearl snapped her fingers once more. A fourth mural was lit up - this one of a single, pale Pearl.

“A perfectly imperfect pearl,” she said. “Guiding you down the road to rebellion - just as I wanted her to. You're only unique in that you are the only one to have failed the test.”

Her smile, though it never shifted, seem to take on a new, sinister quality that sent shivers down the fusion’s spine.

“It destroyed her, you know. To find out.”

---

“Aquamarine,” snarled Lapis, “I’m gonna shatter you into…”

“No.”

Garnet’s gauntlets vanished as she slowly raised her hands.

“Clearly you have proven yourself superior,” she said. “We surrender unconditionally.”

“What?!”

Aquamarine’s grin could perhaps be described as the kind associated with consuming human waste.

“Very good choice, fusion,” she said condescendingly. “Perhaps now the Diamonds will show you a little undeserved mercy.”

“Garnet, you can’t-”

Garnet turned to her, and just barely through her visor, she could just about see a wink.

“-I mean, yes Aquamarine, I surrender to your…” She took in the impish form before her. “...tremendous might.”

“Oh, you flatter me,” sniffed Aquamarine. “Surrendering to save a common Peridot? Pathetic.”

“We’re… Peridot enthusiasts,” said Lapis.

“Or at least she was once,” said Garnet.

“Garnet.”

“There’s just two things I want to know,” said Garnet. “Where’s Topaz?”

“Guarding my… esteemed colleague 4DT,” replied Aquamarine, crossing her arms, “Why do you care?”

Garnet smiled.

“Buying time,” she replied. “Second question - have you ever seen the main cannon of the Sun Incinerator in use?”

“What?”

Garnet’s grin widened - she grabbed Lapis and leapt to the ground as a purple beam smashed through the wall.

---

“Destroyed…” Stevonnie’s eyes widened. “Pearl’s alive?! Where is she?”

“Pearl?” White Pearl replied. “That Pearl led you astray, Starlight. She was designed to tempt you, and to be reset when you passed your test - which you didn’t, because of her. Why would you ever trust her again?”

“Because I care about her!” replied Stevonnie.

“Like she cared about you?” White Pearl seemed almost to chuckle. “She cared about you because I wanted her to. None of it was genuine. None of it was real. She was a puppet-”

“No, she wasn’t!” thundered Stevonnie. “She’s my family! It doesn’t matter where she came from, she’s a Crystal Gem and-”

“The Crystal Gems are a lie, Starlight,” said White Pearl, “You really must stop fooling yourself. Or shall I remind you of that creed?”

“No!”

“Fight for life on the planet Earth… or was it Gourlbun or Ai’namsat?”

“Shut up!”

“Defend all human beings… or whatever other indigenous life forms… even the ones that you don't understand…”

“Stop!”

“Believe in love that is out of anyone's control…”

“I’m warning you!” Stevonnie clutched their sword.

White Pearl seemed to stare into their soul as she continued regardless.

“And then risk everything f-”

Stevonnie thrust forward. Their sword slid right into White Pearl’s chest.

For a long time, there was silence. They felt their arm shaking, tears pricking at the corner of their eyes.

“It was all a lie, Starlight,” whispered White Pearl.

“I… I don’t care.”

White Pearl disappeared into a cloud of smoke.

Stevonnie fell to their knees, feeling sick to their stomach. Their sword clattered to the ground beside them, and their hands shook uncontrollably.

They never noticed the crash from the door, and barely reacted to the blinding sunlight that suddenly streamed in. Only when they felt themself suddenly yanked up into the sky did they look up - they found themself staring into Lapis’ sapphire orbs as they flew up towards the Sun Incinerator. The gem shot them a smile.

“It’s okay,” she said. “I’ve got you.”

Stevonnie breathed in deeply through their nose. Slowly, they glanced back down at the wrecked temple, the face of White Diamond blasted away, and sighed slowly.

“It doesn’t matter,” they whispered, “I’ll find her.”

---

Lars stared at the bubble in front of him, inside which was contained Aquamarine’s gem.

“What do we do with that?” he asked.

“There’s a prison on New Earth,” replied C. “Well, it’s really a detention centre, but… it’s where they keep Commander Lewis. They’ll probably have space there.”

Lars nodded.

“Okay then,” he said, “Twins, get us home.”

“Aye Captain!”

“Yes Captain!”

Lars turned to Sadie, standing next to the captain’s chair, staring at her mechanical, detached fingers. He reached out, putting a hand on her shoulder.

“You okay?”

Sadie exhaled, long and slow.

“I’m gonna be.”

In the back of the bridge, ignored by the others, Lapis and Stevonnie sat against the wall - the fusion had just finished telling their girlfriend their story. Lapis bit her lip, looking up towards the roof.

“...it doesn’t feel fake,” she said at last.

“That’s what I'm thinking,” agreed Stevonnie. “Mom didn’t fail a test. Maybe Blue and Yellow did.”

They shook their head.

“But if everyone finds out…”

“The way I see it,” replied Lapis. “The rebellion isn’t Pink Diamond’s anymore. It’s yours. It doesn’t matter what she did, or where it came from - just where it goes.”

Stevonnie chuckled.

“You’ve come a long way, Laps.”

“I learned from the best,” replied Lapis.

She leaned in and pecked Stevonnie on the cheek. They giggled, putting an arm over her shoulder.

“Lapis,” they asked, “will you help me find Pearl? I mean, when I find out where to start looking, do you want…”

Lapis placed her index finger on Stevonnie’s mouth and smiled.

“Always.”

[loveissupernatural]

                                        “The Man Behind the Mask”

                                                            pt 2

Peter Parker x reader

Warnings: none

Summary: You’ve recently moved to Queens, New York after your father finds a new job with the U.S. government handling alien affairs in the city. You’ve grown up in a small town, and it’s your junior year of high school; culture shock takes a whole new meaning when you’re saved by the famed new web-slinging Avenger - and when you meet a new group of friends at Midtown High that seem to always be hiding something. But things quickly get personal.

Masterlist / pt 1

Your masked hero had only just disappeared behind the rooftops and evening glow when multiple blaring police cars skidded to a stop in front of you. The officers hauled ass out of their vehicles before their eyes settled on you, shaken but safe, and the incapacitated criminal glued to the alley wall. When their eyes settled on the webbing, an obvious calling card of Queens’ knight in shining armor, the urgency left their steps. With a slightly annoyed, but mostly relieved smirk, an officer pulled you aside and wrote down your assessment of the incident while a medic slid a silver shock blanket around your shoulders. They referred to Spider-Man as a suspect as well, but you insisted that he’d done nothing wrong, and that he was the only reason you were alive and breathing. The police officer looked like he’d heard this before, and you’re sure he had – he also looked like he’d much rather be anywhere else, like he personally couldn’t care less whether Spider-Man had been there or not.

Two officers escorted you back home, earning shocked and concerned looks from your parents. As soon as one of the men explained to them what happened, your mother hugged you to her like you were about to blow away with the wind, wailing. Your father almost collapsed against the kitchen counter, leaning on it for support as he squeezed your shoulder. You tearfully welcomed your parents’ affection, suddenly feeling extremely guilty for the way you had been treating them.

Although you never wanted to experience your life flashing before your eyes again, in a weird way, you were thankful for the harrowing experience. Something about staring at death down the barrel of a gun tends to remind one of the important things in life. Arguing with your parents over the move suddenly seemed so stupid and trivial. You were all together, you were all happy and healthy, and that’s all that really mattered. You would get to graduate high school, go to college, and live your life all thanks to a man in red and blue spandex.

Your mother was heartbroken to learn that there was no way to contact Spider-Man, desperately wanting to thank him for saving her only child’s life. Reporters hounded at your door for the rest of the night, begging for an “inside scoop” on the famous rumored Avenger, but you turned them all away. Sharing every detail of your rescue with millions of viewers seemed like some kind of violation to Spider-Man’s privacy, and part of you wanted to keep the deeply personal experience for yourself. Your mother shouted a final “Thank you, Spider-Man!” at a TV camera before you slammed your front door shut for the final time that night. You hoped that whoever he was, wherever he was, Spider-Man would somehow see your mother’s tearful thankfulness. After all, how do you accurately express to someone how you feel about them saving your life? There are no words.

When your parents finally released you from their grasps, and apologies peppered with “I love you”s had been exchanged at least one hundred times, you finally went to bed. With a fond smile, you sat the bruised, pitiful apple on your dresser as a momento. You knew you’d have to get rid of it eventually. No momento, no matter how special, was worth the flies and worms that would invade your room.

You kept your eyes trained on the faint outline of the fruit in the darkness of your room and thought of Spider-Man’s interestingly lensed eyes as you drifted into a restless sleep. The next day was your first day at Midtown High School as a junior; your parents asked if you wanted to hold off after your life-threatening experience, but you insisted on continuing life as usual.

Your fitful sleep was plagued with strange dreams – the barrel of a gun, a plague of red and blue spiders, showing up to your first day at the new school with  articles of your clothing magically disappearing.

The repetitive ring-ching of your cellphone’s alarm woke you out of an odd dream involving a flying elevator that would transport you anywhere in New York. You bolted up so quickly that you were dizzy, the stickiness of the dried sweat on your neck and back reminding you of your restless night. You rubbed crusty sleep from your eyes as you swung your legs over the edge of your mattress, groaning loudly.

As you trekked to the kitchen, bare feet cold against the tiled floor, you were surprised to see your mother already awake, sitting at the granite island wearing her glasses and sipping coffee. You muttered a greeting as you walked by her toward the refrigerator, but her outstretched arm stopped you. Without a word, she pulled you to her side tightly and rubbed soft circles into your arm. You sighed against her shoulder, deflating. She kissed your head, then suddenly shooed you away, failing to hide the few tears that were escaping her eyes.

After gulping down a cup of Yoplait, you shuffled back to your bedroom. With eyes still halfway closed, you flipped on the light and pulled open your curtains.

A shiny, fresh red apple was waiting on your windowsill.

You just stood there for a moment, staring at it, your sleep-deprived brain struggling to catch up to the events of the night before. As you stared at the thing like you couldn’t believe it was there (which you couldn’t), what this meant hit you like a wall. Not only had Spider-Man saved your life twice and remembered what was in your grocery bag, but he had followed you home after all, and he was still thinking about you. The apple obviously hadn’t been there long. If you’d woken up five minutes earlier, would you have caught Spider-Man hanging out on your fire escape?

You opened your window and allowed yourself a short girlish giggle, hugging the apple to your chest. All traces of tiredness were gone in an instant. Did the heroic guy regularly leave gifts on the windowsills of his damsels in distress? You may not be special. But something told you it wasn’t a regular occurrence.

With a goofy grin, you added Spider-Man’s little gift to your lunch bag, pleasantly surprised to find a sticky note from your dad, who’d already left for work. Your father hadn’t left you a note like that in your bag lunch since you were 12 years old, but you were thankful. A sudden rush of emotion washed over you. You were glad that you’d let your parents know how awful you felt for making the move so difficult, especially your father.

Your mother rushed you out of the door an hour later, your primping almost causing you to miss the bus. Your outfit was meticulously put together, your hair and makeup done as flawlessly as you were able to achieve. A positive mindset was what you focused on the most, knowing that having a welcoming and friendly demeanor would improve your day more than anything else. You were primed to make good first impressions.

You hoped.

The blonde girl you sat beside on the bus seemed fairly uninterested in you, but wasn’t mean, which you were thankful for. You sat in a somewhat-comfortable silence after exchanging pleasantries.

As soon as you walked through the front double doors into the hallway, however, it was a different story.

You were catching eyes without meaning to. Boys smiled at you, shamelessly stared, or an odd combination of both; you were equally flattered and uncomfortable. Some girls smiled, some just watched you, others paid you no mind. After the stares started to bother you a bit, you kept your head down. This was the unfortunate result of being the new girl – you’d be the talk of the school for at least a few days.

Per instructions emailed to your mother days beforehand, you found the principle’s office and retrieved your schedule and a map of the large high school. The amount of students at this school had to be, at least, three times the amount of students in grades K-12 in your former school district. You felt beyond overwhelmed. The crowds navigating the hallways were chaos, but only to you. Everyone else seemed to have some kind of integral understanding of how to step around each other without causing spilled binders and stepped-on backpacks. Your nose was buried in your map, tears starting to sting the corners of your eyes as you walked down the same hallway for the third time. As you looked down at the paper once again, tracing your path with your finger, you ran into someone’s back with so much force that you almost fell backward. Before the person even turned around, before you saw a face, you were already apologizing over and over, your cheeks burning.

“Oh, it’s okay, don’t worry about it,” came a forgiving voice, and you looked up to see a large boy with dark hair and kind eyes. He extended a hand to you, obviously excited to see a new face. You shook it and you were surprised by his gentle grip. “You look new.”

You grimaced. “Is it that obvious?”

He shrugged, grinning at you. “No offense, but you kind of have that look in your eyes. Ya know, the look of eternal fear?”

“You’re not wrong. I have no idea where I’m going.“

“Here, let me see,” the boy said, looking over your shoulder at your map. He scoffed. “Oh, you don’t need this. We have the same homeroom. Just follow me.”

You stuttered out a thanks as a you struggled to follow him without bumping into one of the hundreds of other students that were circulating around you. You learned that his name was Ned. He’d lived in Queens his entire life, and according to him, once you realized that New York City was just a giant grid, you’d never really get lost. It didn’t take you long to learn that Ned was a talkative guy, and as long as you laughed and nodded in the right places, you didn’t have to carry the conversation.

“I’ll introduce you to some of my friends at lunch,” he said, then he hesitated. “Well, friend. Peter. And maybe Michelle… if she even talks to us today.”

Your brows furrowed. You laughed uneasily. “What?”

“Oh, it’s not important,” he said quickly. “Look, here’s homeroom!”

You’d both made numerous turns and you had no idea how you’d gotten there, but there was your homeroom indeed. Eyes followed you as you walked behind Ned, trailing him to some empty desks in the back corner of the room. A few “heeeyyyy”s were thrown your way by some guys on the other side of the room, but Ned just looked at you pointedly and told you to ignore them. You grinned uneasily but heeded his word.

After an awkwardly forced introduction at the front of the classroom encouraged by your homeroom teacher, you sat back down with burning cheeks. Ned continued chatting with you, your nerves slowly subsiding as you tried to focus on his quickly changing topics.

“Yeah, so Peter and I are meeting up after school today to work on a folding/steaming machine for robotics class,” he rambled. “I mean, Peter’s already done a lot of the internal programming so far, but we still have a lot left to do. Oh, you’ve got to meet Peter! He’s awesome, we’ve been best friends for forever. He’s wicked smart. I can’t give him all of the credit, though, I’m not too dumb myself.”

You grin at him.

“Don’t worry, new girl, I’ve got your back,” he nodded, pursing his lips in a comically confident way as he patted your back. You were thankful. Ned knew your name, but “new girl” seemed to be what he liked calling you. It was your first day and someone in this giant high school had taken you under their wing – you didn’t care, at this point he could call you whatever he damn well pleased, you were just glad that you weren’t alone.

Ned was quirky and awkward, and by the end of homeroom, you’d realized that he wasn’t considered ‘popular’ by his classmates, particularly some of the punks who had catcalled you when you’d first walked in the room. His cheeks flared a deep pink as some of the guys gave him a hard time. You glared at them.

“No, no, don’t worry about it,” Ned said quickly, almost begging you to recede your boiling glare. “I’m used to it.”

“They’re always like that?” you asked incredulously.

“Pretty much,” he shrugged, almost a little embarrassed. Your eyes widened. “No, it’s fine, really. Ya know why? Because they’re peaking in high school. When we’re grown ups, out in the work force, I’ll be their boss.” His smile had grown smug and he wiggled his brows. “I’ll be making all the money.”

You laughed. Ned was an optimist and his joy radiated to you. “That’s a really cool way to look at the world, Ned.”

“Thanks,” he smiled.

Ned led you to your next two classes, but he didn’t share them with you. You felt pitifully clingy, but you didn’t care – he was the only lifeline in the swimming sea of unfamiliar faces and nearly-identical hallways and staircases. Ned practically pushed you into your rooms, despite your dragging heels. You were a four year-old clinging to your mother’s skirt on the first day of preschool.

Without fail, every single teacher made you stand in front of the classroom to introduce yourself – some allowed you to mumble your name and sit, others prolonged the torture and wanted you to share ‘fun facts’ about yourself. Public speaking normally didn’t bother you, but few things were quite as humiliating as talking about yourself in front of strangers that really couldn’t care less. Most didn’t even bother to feign interest.

You jumped out of your desk and ran toward the cafeteria the very moment the bell released you, eager to escape curious eyes digging into the back of your head. The uncomfortableness of day one was now halfway over. You found your locker after struggling for a bit, unloading your heavy books onto the small metal shelf. Your backpack was now wonderfully lighter, and you walked toward the lunchroom with your bag lunch in hand.

The room was buzzing with conversation, hormones, and gossip (some of which was no doubt about you). Your eyes desperately scanned the long room full of tables, searching for Ned. The last thing you wanted to appear to be was the lonely new girl desperate for someone to sit with.

“Hey, Y/N!” came a friendly call, and your panicked eyes fell on Ned near the back of the room, standing and waving at you. You sighed in relief.

Your eyes drifted to Ned’s side as you came closer, and the first thing you noticed was a handsome, friendly face and curly brown hair. You did your best not to stare, but the guy was cute, and as his eyes shifted from Ned to you, they widened. At first you felt flattered, but as you sat down at the table with a nervous grin, you realized that his wide eyes seemed nervous, almost uneasy. It didn’t leave a positive feeling in your stomach.

“You found us!” Ned said cheerily. He turned toward his friend, who looked even more uneasy than he had on your way over. You kindly smiled at the attractive boy, hoping to seem easy to talk to and friendly. “Y/N, this is Peter Parker, the guy I was telling you abou—”

Ned didn’t get a chance to finish before Peter quickly muttered something about having to go, avoiding your eyes and shooting out of his chair, his lunch left untouched. You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out as you watched his quickly retreating figure disappear into the hallway. You’d barely met the guy and he was practically running away from you – what could you even say to that? Was there an unkind rumor circulating about you? Did you have something in your teeth?

“Uhh, um…” Ned stammered, his eyes darting around as if he was looking for an explanation somewhere in the room, “Peter – uh – he has this internship. Super demanding. This internship with Tony Stark. He just remembered that he had to go pick something up for him—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” you held up your hands, “Tony Stark? He works for Iron Man?! The Iron Man?”

Ned scratched the back of his neck. “Yeah, yeah, pretty cool, huh? He does this all the time, running off out of nowhere…”

You narrowed your eyes, looking at the spot where Peter had disappeared only moments before. “Are you sure…? I mean, it wasn’t me — it wasn’t something I did, was it?” you asked slowly. How could it be? You hadn’t spoken a word to the guy. But the way he looked at you…

“No, no, Peter… sometimes Peter, uh, gets nervous meeting new people, yeah,” Ned explained, wringing his hands. “But he just had to go get something for Mr. Stark; I mean, how could it be you? That’s crazy. You guys have never met. Nope, never.” He chuckled and immediately became very interested in the food on his plate. “Pizza?” he suddenly offered, smiling a toothy grin as he held it toward you. A piece of pepperoni slid off and landed on the table with an awkward splat.

“Uh, no thanks, I’m okay,” you said, watching Ned suspiciously. He stuffed food into his mouth and stared at his plate. You unloaded your brown sack, taking out your sandwich, chips, and bright red apple. You placed it on the table with pride, separate from your other food, looking at it fondly and letting out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Ned eyed it.

“Do you, uh, like apples?” he asked awkwardly, and you tried to meet his eyes, but he wasn’t having it.

“Yeah, I do,” you said slowly. You could cut the tension with a butter knife. Suddenly feeling the need to make conversation, not used to awkward silences around Ned, you started rambling. The last thing you wanted to do was lose a potential friendship before it started because of your lack of conversational skills. “I really like this apple though because Spider-Man gave it to me.”

Ned dropped his fork noisily. It clanged against the plate.

“Spider-Man?” he asked, and his voice was a few octaves higher. You grinned in triumph – if Spider-Man wasn’t a worthy conversation topic, then what was? You felt bad for betraying the promise you made to yourself to keep the experience private, but it’d popped out before you could stop it.

“I kind of almost got… mugged last night,” you whispered, leaning in conspiratorally. Ned’s discomfort radiated off of him in waves. “I mean, I had a gun pointed between my eyes and suddenly, Spider-Man was there. He saved my life.” You couldn’t hide the dreamy look in your eyes. “Long story short, I kind of dropped most of my groceries… and I woke up this morning with this—” you lifted the apple “—waiting on my windowsill.”

“Wow, cool,” Ned said, but something was lacking in his tone. “What a crazy and unique story that I’ve definitely never heard before!”

You laughed, now feeling as uncomfortable as Ned looked. “What, does Spider-Man make a habit of leaving presents for girls he’s rescued?”

“Uh, yeah, that’s it,” Ned grinned. He suddenly seemed relieved. “Spider-Man definitely does leave presents for girls. Ya know, so I’ve heard. Not that I’d know.”

Your heart dropped into your stomach, burning, and you were surprised that Ned couldn’t hear it.

“Oh, really?” you asked, trying to seem disinterested. “That’s cool of him. I guess. What guy in his right mind wouldn’t take advantage of all of the thankful women, right?” You tried to laugh.

“Ha ha, right,” Ned said, almost to himself, “he’d be insane not to. He’s… insane.” If you didn’t know better, you’d say that disbelief and disappointment laced his tone.

The rest of lunch was just quiet chewing and occasional blurbs of conversation. You didn’t see Ned again for the remainder of the day. You couldn’t help but feel that it had something to do with Peter’s sudden departure. Maybe, for whatever reason, Ned’s best friend didn’t like you, and that made Ned decide that you weren’t friend-material? But why wouldn’t Peter like you? You’d done nothing to him. Maybe he had a girlfriend and he thought you were staring too much? No, that wouldn’t make sense.

Discouraged and lonely, you boarded the bus and sat alone near the back. You played on your phone, avoiding eyes and conversation, counting down the stops until the yellow vehicle neared your apartment building. You hopped off the bus, running toward the towering building as if it were a protective parent waiting to envelope you with a hug.

Peter Parker was on your mind as you unenthusiastically ate dinner, chewing the same bite of food for at least five minutes straight. You skillfully avoided your parents’ prying questions about your first day, giving vague answers. After a while they stopped trying.

You couldn’t stop replaying the interaction with Peter in your head in slo-mo, over and over again. You reanalyzed every tiny look, word, step. Maybe Ned was right, maybe he just had to run off for his internship with Mr. Stark – but then why was Ned suddenly so awkward and almost cold with you? Was Peter’s sudden departure his seal of disapproval of you? But you didn’t do anything wrong! Your head was going back and forth, back and forth. If someone didn’t like you, then you wanted to know why, and they better have a damn good reason because you were freaking delightful.

In that moment, you’d decided. Tomorrow, you were talking to Peter Parker, whether he liked it or not.

Pt 3

[k-p-p-d]

Stay: Think About You (A)

Pairing: Jisoo x Male OC (feat. Bobby)

Summary: Jamal knew breaking up would be difficult, but he knew she would be better off for it.  What he didn’t know was how he’d ever be able to keep himself from ever regretting letting her go...

Length: 2k

A/N: Listen to this while you read! @blackinkfics This has been a year in the making and I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to get to a point where I felt comfortable enough to post it.  I’m also sorry that this is how far I’ve gotten in all this time, but I hope it lives up to your expectations.  Ily~ #LongLiveJJ

                                                     Jisoo POV

Jamal stared blankly at his phone. The screen was still aglow with the notification of a received message, allowing his eyes to fixate on the name he tried so desperately to keep out of his heart and off his tongue. God, he knew he shouldn't have thought of her. He knew it. But he had and in a cruel twist of fate she had made her unwelcomed but desperately craved grand entrance into his isolated world with a text.

His conscience was torn straight down the middle. He didn't want to open it because he didn't know if he was ready to have a conversation with her just yet; if he was being honest with himself, he really didn't want to try to talk to her. But what if he didn't open it? Would she realize he was purposefully ignoring her? Would she be further hurt by him? Would she never try to speak to him again, and would spurn all his future attempts to strike up a conversation when he was ready? But what if he did open it? Would he be hurt by what she said? Would he be forced to defend himself against her well-deserved but still painful attack? Would he have to break her heart again by cutting short her attempts of reconciliation, give her some bullshit and noncommittal answer to make it seem as if he was significantly more unaffected than he was? What if he was the one who tried to reconcile but she shunned him? What if, what if, what if?

Those two words and the countless possible outcomes they preceded echoed loudly through his head, only drowned out by the pounding of his aching heart. He snatched off his hoodie and threw on his headphones. Tapping the side of the ear cuff, he silently thanked the Lord for wireless technology as the song began to play without him ever sliding open his phone. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, surrendering himself to gently crescendoing song. He couldn't help but wonder if she still used this trick like he had taught her so long ago. The bright image of her smiling appreciatively at him as she thanked him, her beautiful voice ringing through his ears and making his heart soar. Jamal grunted as his eyes flew open, "Channel it!" With the first drop of the hard beat, he flung soul first into the music and he let himself be consumed by the banging deep bass. With every powerful move, he roughly shoved aside his haunted thoughts. With every sharp hit, he sliced through his pervasive regrets. With every precise step, he chased away his conscience until he was blissfully numb, only sensitive to the familiar ache surging through his exhausted muscles.

It wasn't until he was stooped over and dripping with sweat that he felt the presence of someone else in the room with him. A pang of bitter disappointment pierced his heart as his eyes met familiar grinning slants sparked with amusement. But they weren't those of his dazzling starlight. "You gonna keep staring or come up here, big boy?" Jiwon teased, waggling his eyebrows and poking out his tongue.

Jamal groaned loudly, unceremoniously dropping onto the edge of the oversized bed. "What do you want?"

"Oh, nothing," came the response with its shoddy veil of feigned innocence sliding off each word.

"Whatever you're thinking, don't."

"So you're saying I shouldn't send you this dope ass beat for you to dance your girl problems away--"

The elder snappily interjected, "I don't have girl problems."

Jiwon shook his head, "No, you don't have a girl. But you got 99 problems and a--"

"Watch it," Jamal growled fiercely.

"--chick is the source of all of them. Jeez, lemme finish talking at least once, will you?"

"You're a lot more respectful when we're in Korea," the exhausted dancer griped, allowing himself to slip from Korean to English as his brain was too worn to properly translate.

"That's because we're usually surrounded by 50 million other people and a shit ton of cameras," Jiwon pointed out in English before tacking on a quick, "hyung."

"True," the dancer conceded as he lay back onto the uncomfortably soft bed. His eyelids drooped to a close and he lay there for a few moments just listening to his breath while Jiwon tapped away on his phone. "So," he flipped over onto his stomach, "are you going to play this beat for me or just hog my bed instead?"

The rapper lightly flicked his shoulder with his foot and stuck out his tongue, cheekily quipping, "You should be happy to have a body in your bed!" Jamal snorted derisively, a habit he hadn't realized he'd picked up from Jis--

Her.

He shook his head as if to erase the name he almost thought. If he said the name, the pain he had been trying so desperately hard to beat back and ignore would rear its ugly head and rip the sloppy stitches of time and distance from his still-bleeding heart. So it would always have to be simply "her" until he could no longer recall the sensations of her silken raven hair twisted around his fingertips. Or until the sounds of her voice stumbling over his name no longer made his breath hitch and eyes prick hotly with tears. Or until he could look at himself in the mirror without seeing the pain and confusion and loss in her eyes glaring back at him.  "Ass," he mumbled bitterly to himself as he pushed himself off the bed to retrieve his phone, the closest thing he could hold that directly linked him to her.

Luckily, Jiwon mistook who the comment was directed towards and defensively shouted, "Hey! Just because I have a great ass doesn't mean you get to call me one!"

With a roll of his eyes, the elder dismissively retorted, "Your ass is flatter than your chest so chill out."

"That's not what my fans say..."

"The ceiling fan doesn't count."

"Asshole."

"Dickhead."

"Shitface."

"Ugly bunny ass, gapped tooth ass, head ass, fake punk ass, weak ass, lame ass--"

Jiwon clutched his chest and whined, "Shit, man! That was below the belt. Why you gotta roast me that hard? What did I ever do to you to deserve such hate?" Jamal's eyes scrunched shut and his cheeks bunched upwards as his mouth fell open in laughter, head tilting back involuntarily as howls of laughter ripped through him. Jiwon beamed brightly as he watched his friend finally laugh so fully for the first time in what felt like eons. He'd really missed this sound. He knew it was already hard enough on Jisoo to go through this split, so he could only imagine how rough it was for the man before him to pretend he was alright despite so clearly still being completely in love with the woman whose heart he willingly broke to save.

Jiwon cupped his hand on Jamal's shoulder, making the elder look at him with misty eyes from laughing so hard, before he brought him into a tight bear hug. The aftershocks of laughter causing the dancer's strong shoulders to tremble faded into quiet sobs of loneliness. The younger man held him much tighter than before and began gently rocking him hack and forth. "Let it out, hyung," He mumbled softly. "Let it all out." 

Amidst his tears, Jamal hiccuped, "Y-y-you're supposed to tell me not to cry."

Jiwon shrugged, the movement causing Jamal's head to rise and fall, "Nah. That's some macho bullshit old, wrinkly ass men like to spout because some even older, more wrinkly assed men used to repress them by telling them that."

"Smart ass," came the harmless quip in response. Jiwon only chuckled, loosening his grip on the older so he could step back and look at him. Jamal wiped away the  sniffled, "Thank you, Bobby."

"Any time, bro." The two men sprawled across the bed once more, but something caught the younger's eyes. "Hey, hyung?"

"Yeah?"

"You've been clutching your phone hella hard. Did you get some nudes or something?" Despite his attempt to make his friend smile again, Jiwon watched a crestfallen grimace pull across his lips. "Oh."

"She texted me, but I can't open it. I just...it's too hard and there's too many what-if's and I've already hurt so much and I don't wanna be hurt and I'm scared I'll make things worse but I'm damned if i do and damned if I don't and I'm just--"

Jiwon interrupted, "Then don't open it."

"What?"

The younger shifted so he was eye-level with his friend. "Don't open it. Knowing Jisoo," Jamal flenched at the mention of her name, "she isn't expecting an immediate reply. She probably isn't expecting anything for a couple of days or so. She likely had something on her mind that she needed to voice right then and there or else it would've eaten her alive. You know I'm right so don't stress about it. Open it when you're ready." With that, he eased the phone out of the other's tight grip and tossed it to the other side of the room as he stood up. "Now, you need to get some sleep. We've got a concert tomorrow and I'll be damned if your old ass makes me look bad."

Jamal snorted, "Those shitty ass, fake ass dreads you got do that enough as is.  I'm only 25."

"First of all, that's old as shit. Second of all, Taeyang-hyung said they looked cool-"

Jamal tossed back, "You really gonna trust him considering those tattered yarn strands he called dreads were blocking his eyes half the time? I know yaki hair works best for fake locs; but damn, homie really looked like a whole yak."

Jiwon self-consciously reached up to pat his hair, which luckily was no longer twisted together in fake locs; though the sting of the verbal dragging he just endured still hurt. "Well, shit, Jamal. Tell us how you really feel next time."

Smirking, Jamal held open the door, "Gladly. Now get outta my room, dumb ass."

"Last time I ever cuddle you," Jiwon mumbled bitterly under his breath as he left.

Jamal rolled his eyes and retrieved his phone; he stared at the screen for a couple moments then brazenly unlocked it before his mind could further rationalize the decision.

“Are you home?”

Jamal deflated, releasing the breath he hadn't even realized he had been holding. She had forgotten he was on tour now. He didn't know what hurt more: The fact she had forgotten about him or that he couldn't be there with her now. He read the message again, trying to come up with a perfect response that would neither hurt her nor reveal how lonely he also was. But maybe... Maybe he was missing some deeper meaning she had meant for him to glean from it. That had to be it, otherwise this gaping chasm in his soul would only grow wider and wider until it consumed him wholly and drowned out any chances of happiness he might have someday. 

“Are you home?” could easily mean, "When can I see you again?" Or perhaps, “Do you still think of me?" Or maybe even, "Do you miss me as much as I miss you?" Or, if he squinted just right, "You're always on my mind, day and night, hour after hour, minute after minute."

But there was nothing else to it. It was just a straight forward question: "Are you home?"

That was it. That was the message. That was all that was said. No "hi," no "how are you," no "I miss you," no "I hate you," no "why did you do this to me," no "I forgive you," no "I'll never forgive you," no "I'll never give up on you," no "I love you," no "do you still love me because I love you."

It was all too much to bear so he closed his eyes and breathed deeply, drowning out the cracking of his heart to the sharp synths and crisps beats of the track Jiwon had crafted for him. Slowly, he left himself slip away into a restless sleep.  Maybe one day, he’d wake up and his heart would heart less...

—Admin Lily

[terminallydepraved]

Antagonize (Gavin900 smut)

@yougei commissioned me to write some fun smut, so have at it!

Read on Ao3 Here

[Support me on Patreon] x [Commissions Page] x  [ Buy Me a Coffee]

This couldn’t be happening. This seriously could not be happening.

“-and you’ll be working with him through this case, and if everything goes well,” the captain said, rattling off the details of his latest approved torture, “he’ll be assigned to you in a permanent capacity.”

Gavin Reed– No, no, fuck that, Detective Gavin Reed, he had a title and he was going to use it, stood in Fowler’s office, staring at his commanding officer with a look of pure incomprehension. The plastic toy stood at his side, hands behind his back and head held high, the picture of artificial compliance.

“You have to be fucking with me,” Gavin said without thinking. He looked around the office, already laughing. “Where are the cameras? Did Person put you up to this?” Or wait, fuck. “It was Anderson, wasn’t it?” he decided, tapping his temple with his finger. “Fuckin’ drunk finally got it in his head to stick it to me–”

Captain Fowler shook his head, letting out a sigh. “It’s not a joke, Reed,” he said, gesturing for Connor, no, wait… That wasn’t Connor. “Meet RK900. Your new partner.”

The words didn’t hit fast enough. RK900 took a step forward, hand outstretched. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Detective Reed,” it said placidly, and shit, yeah, definitely not Connor. This one was taller, bigger. Its voice was flatter and far less warm. It blinked its cold, ice-blue eyes, cocking its head as it waited for Gavin to shake its hand. “I look forward to working with you.”

Gavin looked at Fowler, and Fowler just shook his head.

Fuck.

RK900 looked at him expectantly.

Gavin marched right out the door, the android’s hand still hanging in the air.

“This is not fucking happening!” he shouted. He’d quit before he let it.

….

Three weeks later found Gavin deeply embroiled in his own personal brand of hell.

Turns out, quitting wasn’t quite an option when the employment rate was as bad as it was. Gavin had tried to do it; fuck, he’d written the letter and everything, but…

Maybe he hated job hunting more than he hated androids. Whatever.

It didn’t fucking matter.

His own personal hell had a face. It had a voice, and it sure as hell had its own unique way of fucking with him day in and day out. Today, it was a combination of things. Namely, the sight of that damn android at his desk the first thing in the morning, already logged into his computer and doing only god knew what while he was at it.

Gavin slammed his bag onto the desk. “Get the fuck out of my desk, bot,” he spat, putting every ounce of spite into his voice as he could.

RK900– that fucking prick, didn’t even have the decency to jump. The android finished typing whatever it was he was writing, glanced up, and fucking raised one of his perfect brows instead. “Good morning, Detective Reed,” he said in that low, cool voice of his. Perfectly modulated, perfectly robotic. “You’re late once again.”

Gavin bared his teeth. Most of the precinct was staring now, and knowing them they were expecting another public fight. A quick glance up told him even Fowler was paying attention, peering at them from behind his glass box of fuckheadedness. Fuck. If he got too rowdy, he’d get written up again.

He settled for moving closer, bending down to put his face in the android’s personal space. “Didn’t you hear me?” he hissed, narrowing his eyes. “I said to get the fuck out of my desk, bot.”

RK900 blinked languidly. Gavin wasn’t sure what pissed him off more. The fact that Connor’s stupid fucking face made up his every waking nightmare, or the fact that when it came to submissive android partners, he’d gotten the short end of the stick.

“Oh, of course,” the android murmured right before going back to his typing. “I’d be happy to vacate your desk once I finish typing up the completed report for our latest case.” His cold blue eyes flicked towards Gavin for a moment, glinting at him with something unreadable in their depths. “I figured I would take the liberty to do it myself since you grievously overslept once more, putting us behind schedule.”

He didn’t need to tack on the implied again. It went unspoken, but not ignored. Gavin grinded his teeth, his hand curling into a fist at his side.

But the precinct was watching. Fowler, fucker that he was, was watching. Gavin sucked in a breath and loosened his fist, glaring bitterly at the android still typing away happily at his desk. “You are such a fucking prick,” he muttered, leaving his bag and turning on his heel. “That better be fucking done in the next five minutes or I’m sending you to the scrap heap.”

Shit, that was a terrible way to save face. Gavin kept his eyes forward and ignored all the people watching him as he crossed the office and headed towards the hall that led to the restrooms and interrogation rooms. Fucking Anderson and his lapdog were chatting away, drinking it all up.

Gavin turned into the restroom and slammed the door behind him. Fuck them. Fuck them and fuck everyone else in this department. He stomped his way to the mirror, barely checking to make sure he was alone before punching the brick beside the glass. Pain shot down his arm, but he didn’t fucking care. He imagined it’d be about as hard as punching that fucking android. Worth it. It’d be worth all the pain in the world to see that happen.

That smug fucking bastard. He hadn’t even looked up when Gavin walked away. He’d just kept on typing, acting like he wasn’t even there. Just like when they were out on cases. Gavin had seniority. Hell, he had the fucking title, and still the fucking bot would waltz in ahead of him, barking orders, asking for the details, doing his goddamn job–

The restroom door opened and Gavin didn’t even bother turning before shouting, “Use the fucking ladies’ room!”

But footsteps still sounded, the door closing behind whatever asshole had the balls to ignore him, and Gavin turned on his heel, teeth bared, ready to tear into them, only to see the last person–the last thing–he wanted to see.

RK900 stood before him as cool as could be, expression flat and pedantic. “I didn’t come in here to use the facilities,” he said blandly. “So, going to the other restroom would be pointless.”

And that was all he cared about, wasn’t it? Doing shit that wasn’t pointless, being efficient, making shit happen as fast as he could regardless of the one he was supposed to be working alongside. Beneath. Gavin resisted the urge to send his fist flying. He knew it’d just end with him breaking his hand and getting written up. He sucked in a breath of stinging air, staring at the android ruining his fucking life until it decided to say something.

It took a little longer than it should have for it to happen.

“I’ve made you mad,” RK900 stated plainly, assessing him and analyzing him with those cold blue eyes.

“No fucking shit,” Gavin snapped back at him.

RK900 blinked a few times, cocking his head to the side. Gavin scoffed at the sight. He’d seen Anderson’s bot do the same thing, usually when it was trying to understand. Same series, same quirks, only Gavin had to think his partner was a hell of a lot less amicable than Hank’s. Not that he gave a fuck. At all.

“If you dislike me using your desk when you aren’t in, perhaps you could see to expediting my request for my own workstation–”

“You seriously think this is about a fucking desk?” Gavin interrupted, letting out a nasty laugh. “God, how much money did they spend on you? You don’t even fucking know how annoying you are.”

A flash of yellow drew Gavin’s eye to the android’s temple. “I’m seeking to understand your inability to put aside your dislike of me in order to complete our caseload,” RK900 murmured, looking almost puzzled, annoyed that he didn’t follow. “It’s very unprofessional of you to let this get in the way of our work.”

Gavin took a step closer to the bot, absolutely hating how much taller it was than him. How much bigger in general it was compared to him. RK900 was bulky, muscled, a soldier built to accomplish a directive over the trustworthy little sycophant his predecessor was. But Gavin didn’t let it intimidate him. He bared his teeth and glared as harshly as he could, and met those ice-blue eyes as evenly as he could manage.

“Sucks to be you,” Gavin said, “because I don’t give a fuck what you think about me.”

A pause. “I’m willing to do anything to facilitate our working relationship, Detective,” RK900 said placidly, crossing his arms in a manner that just made him look haughty and bored. Gavin hated it. He hated everything about it. “Perhaps you should tell me what it is you want from me. I will work hard to do it.”

“Oh, really?” he sneered, crossing his arms to match, to show just how little he fucking cared too. “Anything at all?”

RK900 raised a perfect brow. “That is what I said,” he answered. “I don’t make a habit out of saying things without meaning them. I don’t appreciate wasting time.”

Like Gavin did, he left unspoken. Like every other human in this place that got in his way of accomplishing his directive.

“Alright then. Read my lips,” Gavin said, taking special care to enunciate every single word. “The only way you can help me is if you get on your fucking knees and suck my fucking dick, you robotic prick.”

A pause. The LED on the android’s temple cycled yellow for a moment, and then blue. “Is that what you want of me?” he wondered, cocking his head.

“Did I fucking stutter?” Gavin snarled.

“Okay.”

Gavin furrowed his brow. “Okay?” he muttered, staring at the android derisively. “What do you mean okay?”

Instead of answering, RK900 fell to his knees and reached for Gavin’s belt.

“W-Woah!” Gavin shot, stumbling a bit when the sharp edge of the sink met his lower back. He braced himself on the counter and tried to control his volume. “What the fuck!”

RK900 just blinked. Blinked and stayed on his goddamn knees. “What?” he asked himself, cocking his head. He didn’t even have the consideration to look embarrassed by what he was implying he’d do. “You requested I perform oral sex. Are you changing your mind?”

“Am I changing my– holy fuck, do you want to suck my dick?” Gavin let out a panicked sort of laugh, hating how his dick was reacting at all to this. Holy shit, what if the android did? They had free will nowadays, didn’t they? Could they lust after a person?

Shrugging, RK900 stared at him patiently. His hands were still on Gavin’s belt, held in place by his hands. “If it’d make our relationship better,” he reasoned, tilting his head to the side. He… fuck, he licked at his lips, eyes falling to half mast. Gavin’s blood began to pound. “Sure. I want to suck your dick.”

He was getting hard. He was getting hard from staring at this, thinking about this, and the android’s intense stare wasn’t helping things. Gavin shifted his weight, looked over RK900’s head. The cool, perfect hands beneath his own began to move. Gavin… didn’t try to stop them.

“Someone is going to come in here and see this,” he warned, sucking in a harsh breath when RK900 unbuckled his belt with ease. Those cool blue eyes focused on the task at hand, ignoring the rest of him to pull out his dick instead.

“No one will come in here,” the android reported quietly, staring at his half-hard cock intently. It gave a twitch under the scrutiny. “Your tantrums are well known. They’ll avoid this restroom until they see you leave it.”

“You’re a fucking asshole,” Gavin muttered, his voice falling an octave regardless. Those perfect fucking hands were stroking him now, coaxing him to full hardness. “A fucking prick. Do you know how much I hate you?”

“I have an idea–” RK900 stopped speaking when Gavin let out a growl and fisted his hand in his hair.

“I don’t want to hear your fucking voice,” Gavin hissed, jerking RK900 forward until his lips met his cock. “You said you wanted my cock, so here; fucking take it.”

RK900’s icy gaze met him for a second. The LED cycled yellow, then turned to blue. Slowly, painfully, he opened his mouth. Gavin took him by the chin to look inside, grinning when he saw it was wet with some android-type of spit.

“Good,” he whispered, shoving his cock inside without further warning. “Now suck.”

Furrowing his brow, RK900 proceeded to do just that. It was a little graceless, a little sloppy. Gavin shifted and groaned a bit when the android felt out how best to pleasure him. His tongue was a little more textured than a human’s. His saliva was thick, almost viscous, swirling around the head roughly. Gavin swore, bucking his hips. He shoved himself down the android’s throat, a little turned on by the fact that he didn’t need to worry about comfort or politeness with someone like RK900.

“Yeah, yeah, you like that?” he asked, voice husky and rough. RK900’s hair felt like silk between his fingers, his throat like bliss. “You fucking slut. You came in here and fell on your knees for me, just to get me to like you? Should have made you a pleasure bot,” he chuckled, resting his cheek on his shoulder as pleasure rolled over him. “You’d fit right in at a whorehouse.”

RK900 didn’t seem to respond to that. He kept right on sucking, hollowing his cheeks and rocking against him, hands braced on Gavin’s thighs as he let Gavin fuck his mouth freely. Fuck, he could go so deep. As deep as he wanted.

“Bet you want me to fuck your throat,” he gasped, sweating as things began to speed up. “Fill that throat of yours with my cum–”

The LED spun yellow for a split second. It should’ve been a sign that something was coming, but Gavin didn’t have time to analyze it. RK900 turned blue, and in the next instant buried the cock down his throat, his nose mashed against Gavin’s hipbone. Gavin let out a choked cry, hunching over the android’s head. That… That fucking throat… Holy fuck.

It was… It was fucking massaging his cock.

“Fuck, fuck, R..RK… Nines,” he wheezed, gripping the android’s hair as tight as he could to keep from falling. Those cold blue eyes were still watching him, fucking assessing what made him melt, and the massaging, undulating motions of his throat increased, sending Gavin over with a choked, muted wail. His orgasm came so quickly he barely realized its approach– Gavin spilled in RK900’s mouth, whimpering when it milked him of every single drop.

“Oh, shit, shit, shit, too much,” he stammered when the motions kept going. Fuck, shit, ow. He yanked at RK900’s hair, dragging him back until his cock fell out of his mouth. That sticky, thick saliva clung to it even as it fell, connecting it with the android’s lips until it finally snapped away.

The room was quiet then but for the sounds of Gavin losing his goddamn mind. Strong hands gripped his hips, the only thing keeping him from collapsing onto the floor in front of the android. Gavin panted, wheezed, struggled for the breath he couldn’t seem to catch. Holy fuck. Holy goddamn fuck. He tipped back his head and carded his fingers through RK900’s hair, looking at the water-stained ceiling for the sanity he couldn’t seem to take back.

He’d just blown a load down the throat of the most expensive android model to date. On some level, he wondered if that was an accomplishment. On another he wondered if he’d even be able to walk back to his desk without falling down.

“You called me Nines.”

Gavin blinked, looked down, and stared at the android staring up at him. He’d messed up RK900’s impeccable hair. “Huh?” he managed to grunt, inarticulate and slow. Fuck, this was a good look on the bot. Way better than how he normally looked with that stick up his ass.

RK900 blinked, almost hesitant to go on. His lips parted and then closed, his eyes searching the air for words he couldn’t seem to find. “You… called me Nines,” he repeated, looking at Gavin with more curiosity than anyone should after having his dick in their mouth. “Why?”

Why? Gavin frowned. “I don’t know,” he muttered, reluctantly forcing himself to let go of RK900’s deceptively soft hair. He pulled away entirely when the android kept staring, and then rushed to shove his dick back in his boxers. “Maybe because RK900 isn’t a very sexy thing to stumble over?”

“But it’s my designation.”

Gavin rolled his eyes, glancing at himself in the mirror to see how bad the damage was. His cheeks were decidedly flushed, his eyes still a bit hazy. “Yeah, well,” he muttered, running some water to wash his face. “It’s a shitty one.”

RK900 stood behind him silently, staring at him in the mirror. Only for a second or two, though. He quickly got distracted by his own reflection and the state of his hair, his fingers quickly moving to fix the mess Gavin had made. Unlike a human, the hair was the worst of it for him. His lips weren’t flushed or swollen, his eyes still clear when anyone else’s might have been watery.

He caught Gavin staring. Gavin looked away quickly, turning off the water to grab some paper towels to dry his face. The scratchy, rough texture wasn’t enough to clear his head. Fuck. How was any of this real?

“You came four times faster than a human male your age is averaged at,” RK900 said evenly, breaking the silence in the worst way. “Your semen though is of a healthy consistency. I would suggest you include more vitamin C in your diet–”

Gavin dropped the paper towel in an instant, lunging at the android to cover his fucking mouth before he went on any longer. “What the actual fuck?” he shouted, his voice echoing off the tile walls and floor. Oh, shit. Someone was bound to hear that. He looked around frantically and then glared at the android hotly, his face on fire. “What the– Why would you say shit like that?”

RK900 raised a brow and wrapped his hands around Gavin’s wrists, easily pulling them away from his mouth. “Since you seemed uncomfortable by what just transpired, I assumed informing you of things in a medical context might create a more clinical air that would put you at ease,” he said easily, narrowing his eyes when Gavin just gaped. “Do you always ejaculate with such little stimulation–”

“Holy fuck, you’re an actual demon,” Gavin rambled, shoving away from the android to head towards the door. Fuck, why had he done that? What if the fucking bot told everyone in the department about this? About how eager he’d been to let it suck his dick? This could ruin him–

The moment Gavin put a hand on the door was the moment a big, firm weight shoved against his back, pinning him to the door. Gavin’s first instinct was to strike out, to elbow his attacker in the ribs, but RK900 knew that. He knew every sort of defense protocol Gavin had been taught, and he made sure to take Gavin by the wrists, holding him down until he couldn’t do more than breathe.

And when warm, soft lips met his ear, Gavin struggled to even do that much.

“You seem to misunderstand the nature of my questions,” the android said quietly, not quite a croon but near enough to make Gavin shiver. “It’s clear you don’t enjoy working with me. But you seemed to enjoy using my mouth.”

The way he lingered on the word using almost succeeded in waking up Gavin’s spent cock. “What the fuck are you getting at?” he hissed, giving a token struggle he knew wouldn’t get him anywhere. Fuck, this android was strong.

“You ejaculate quickly; sex is a very base human activity, but it does increase bonds between partners.” RK900’s LED cast enough light to glint yellow against the wood of the door. “It wouldn’t be a waste of our time to engage in such acts from time to time, so long as it improves our ability to work together efficiently.”

Gavin’s brain struggled to connect the dots, and when he did he nearly wanted to laugh. Holy fucking shit. “You want to have sex with me,” he translated, pushing back hard enough to get RK900 to let go of him. He turned around, wearing a sneer to keep from losing his mind completely.

RK900 cocked his head. He crossed his arms. “You want to have sex with me,” he reasoned blandly. “I’m not adverse to the concept. If the result grants us a better work relationship, then I suggest it as a viable course of action.”

“Can you even…” Gavin didn’t try to hide his once over of RK900’s body. They tended to make them as human like as possible, but did he even have those parts?

“I assure you that though I am built for much different protocols than pleasure models, I possess adequate features to make such a thing viable.”

This was fucking insane.

The silence wore on. Gavin didn’t know what to say. His usual retorts had dried up in his throat, his brain stuttering to figure out what had just happened. RK900 uncrossed his arms, only putting up with it for so long; a waste of time, probably. If he wasn’t going to talk, there were probably better things to be doing. Like finishing up that damn report. Gavin could only stare as he moved forward, guiding him away from the door enough to open it himself. With just a glance back he gave Gavin a knowing half-smile.

“Think about it, Detective Reed,” he said simply, leaving him in the bathroom, holding the door.

It’d be impossible not to, Gavin thought, especially when he couldn’t seem to tear his eyes from the sight of RK900’s ass as he sauntered away.

Maybe his personal brand of hell had gotten a little more detailed.

Fuck.