#I will trust the people who told me I can remove the content tags thanks for letting me know

[vaxxman]

your medic is very gay male gaze i hope you know

This is phrased like a threat, so here's more medic.

(Fig.1: When you have Kritz ready and all the powerclasses suddenly pay attention to you)

What did you think was going to happen, when you sent me that ask.

I take that as a compliment though, thank you very much. Below are some real no-homo conversations I had in-game.

Least homoerotic class to play in tf2.

The last one is esp funny because this soldier just ran up to me "Doctor, do you want to be my wife?" before I got put into the other team.

[crystalxwitch]

Jealousy | W. Maximoff

Summary: You see your girlfriend talking to her childhood friend and you can't help the possessive feelings bubbling up in you. Who would have thought that Wanda actually likes this side of you?

Tags: smut!!, top!reader, bottom!Wanda, praise kink, possessive, jealousy

Words: 2.2k

"Does he not know that we're together?"

You narrow your eyes at the blonde boy who stands on the opposite side of the room. He is surrounded by a group of boys, laughing and drinking to their heart's content. His blue eyes flicker in your direction again.

You tighten your hand in a fist. "It looks like he was trying to flirt with you."

A soft voice pulls you out of your thoughts. "Oh, god no. Vis is just a friend, nothing more. We know each other since we were children, I told you about our history."

"I don't like how they're all looking at you. As if your something they can't wait to get their hands on." You grumble, throwing each of the guys a death glare. "Pathetic little boys."

"Hey, look at me." She cups your face between her palms. "I'm yours and no one can change that. You have to trust me."

You close your eyes and take a deep breath. Her fingers skim over your skin, calming you down for a second. When you open your eyes again, lovingly eyes stare into yours. You can't help but smile at the sight of your girlfriend giving you the sweetest smile in the world.

How could you ever deserve her?

Wanda tilts her head to the side as you place your hands around her waist. The fabric of her silky floral dress grazes your fingertips. You lean forward, pressing a lingering kiss on her forehead. She hums, trailing her nails over your back. A shiver runs down your spine.

"I trust you, darling." Your eyes dart over her shoulder, meeting the amused eyes of Vis. "I just don't trust them."

Your hand possessively moves to her lower back, squeezing her closer as if she could disappear out of your reach. "If he takes one glance in your direction again, I'm going to kick his ass."

"You're usually not this jealous. I've never seen you like this before...as if the toys play with your toy."

"You're no toy to me, Wands." You clarify, never wanting her to objectify her like that. "I just...You're mine and I don't like to share."

Wanda hums deeply, pressing a swift kiss on your cheek. "Yours...That's kinda hot coming from you."

Her voice lowers down a bit, her accent coming through. You always love when that happens. Most times you don't hear it slip outside, only able to witness it in the heat of the moment when she gets too aroused to think of anything else. The reminder of her consorted face sends a shot of lighting down your body.

Unknown to you, Wanda has the same exact thought in her mind. Debating in her head on her next movements, she gives you a tired smile. Her fingers dance across your lower back, drawing circles over your tight-fitted top that mocked you with its existence since you entered the party.

The music is too loud. The people around her are too drunk.

She fakes a yawn, leaning her head on your shoulder. "I'm tired."

"Already?" You ask, looking at the time on your watch. "We've only been here for one hour."

"I guess, college just drained the life out of me." Wanda admits, meeting your worried gaze. "Is it okay if you bring me home?"

You immediately nod, taking her hand in yours. "Yes, of course. I don't want to be here if you aren't."

"Then let's leave."

~

"Finally." Wanda sighs, throwing her bag on the chair.

You close the door behind you, switching on the small lamp on the desk. Wanda unbuttons her coat but before she can remove it fully, you step up behind her and help her out of it. She whispers a small thank you as you fold it over the chair.

"Do you want to listen to some music?" She asks, walking around the room with a little jump in her steps.

"I- yeah, if you want to."

Wanda nods excitedly, putting on some quiet music and turns around to face you again. Her dress flows in the air. Her cheeks are slightly red due to the cold outside.

You raise a brow, looking at her come alive again and full of energy. "I thought you were tired?"

She shakes off your comment with a hand gesture. "That was just a precaution to get you to leave."

You click your tongue. "A precaution?"

"Yeah... otherwise, this night would have ended in a bloodbath. I didn't want to take that risk."

"Oh, sweetheart." You reach out for her and she slowly comes closer, her face flushing another shade darker. "Nothing would have happened to me. I'm a big girl, I can handle myself just fine."

"I know you can." Wanda pouts her lips playfully. "Doesn't mean I want every boy inside that house to get hurt because of some jealousy stuff."

"I thought you liked it?"

"Oh, I did very much. That's why I brought you back here, to be honest." Her lips skim over your cheek. "Let me help you calm down."

"Oh?" You close your eyes, breathing in her addictive perfume that tickles your nose. "What do you have in mind?"

"Mmm, just wait and see." Wanda chuckles, following the line of your neck. "You'll love it, I promise."

The warmth of her body slips away. Your eyes flutter open, not wanting her to leave just yet. Wanda doesn't listen to your inner pleas, moving towards her dresser and removing her jewelry. Placing her last ring on the surface, she returns her attention back to you. You didn't move an inch since she whispered her promise into your ear.

"I have a gift for you." She moves around you, her fingers dancing over your shoulders and back. "Wanna see what I'm wearing underneath all this?"

Your throat runs dry. You turn your head around, the corners of her mouth raising. Wanda laughs at your stunned expression. Usually, you always find the right words but right now she leaves you lost for words.

She toys with the dress strap, lowering it over her bare shoulder. "Don't be shy...Unwrap me."

Not needing any further permission, you lunge forward. Eagerly, you push down the front of her dress and let it bunch around her waist. The cool hits her skin, leaving goosebumps all over her arms. She helps you push the dress down her legs, leaving her in her lingerie.

Your eyes grow huge at the sight of her. Wanda innocently licks over her lips, brushing her fingers over the edge of her bra. Red is totally her color.

"You like your gift?"

"Oh- I don't like it." You take a step closer, running your eyes up and down her body and lastly meeting her green eyes. "I love it."

She giggles, mustering your awestruck gaze that makes her blush intensely. You mirror her smile, grabbing her chin between your fingers and tilting her head up. She grows quiet, her eyes flickering between yours as you run your thumb over her bottom lip and pull it slightly down.

"I love you."

Her breath hitches slightly, the words still so new to her. Her heart flips inside her chest as you pour every ounce of love into the next kiss. She tastes of the cheap drinks from before mixed with the addictive taste that's just her. You push her close to your body, feeling the lace of the lingerie rub against your top. She kicks off her shoes, kicking them across the floor and out of the way.

"Y/n." She effectively breathes out, breaking the kiss to come up for air. Her pink lips shimmer in the dim light, mixed salvia painting her swollen lips. "I need you."

With a sudden shove, you push her backward onto the bed. She gasps, looking at you with wild eyes. Pushing herself up on her elbows, she moves to the end of the bed and lays down. Quickly, you remove your clothes and throw them across the room.

Red strands of hair are sprawled across the white bedcover like a waterfall of blood. Her emerald eyes shine bright in the orange light as she reaches out for you. Slowly, you crawl up to her. Wanda smiles softly, her hands settling around your neck.

You tower above her, admiring her chest moving with rapid inhales and exhales. "Nobody is allowed to touch you like this except for me. Understand?"

"Nobody." She mumbles, grinning from ear to ear. "Only my girlfriend gets to touch me; see me like this."

You press a sweet kiss on her lips as a reward, grazing your fingers through her hair. "Good girl."

Unclasping her bra, you throw it over your shoulder. Wanda's breath grows heavy as your hands run over the underside of her breasts. Her nipples harden in the air, begging for your attention. Sinking your nails into her hips, you give in and trail kisses over her chest.

"Oh, fuck." Wanda sinks her hand into your hair, guiding you and holding onto you for stability all the same.

A moan escapes her throat as your tongue flattens around it, sucking on it gently.

Wanda clenches her thighs, feeling more turned on than before as you suck on one breast and begin to pinch the other.

Your hand moves underneath her underwear, tracing the length of her cunt with your fingertips. Her thigh twitches as you chuckle deeply.

"You're so wet, Wanda." You feel her wetness welcome your touch, coating your fingers in her arousal. "You liked the thought of me beating up those guys, acting all possessed because of you. Do you know how crazy you make me?"

You sink two fingers into her cunt. Wanda throws her head back against the cushion, her lips parting at the sudden movement. You smile in satisfaction as you flick your thumb over her clit, making her hips raise off the mattress.

You lean forward, leaving purple marks all over her neck and chest. The thought of leaving your imprints on her skin makes you crazy. Wanda moans out your name, her face consorting in pleasure. Trailing your tongue over the sensitive marks, she leans her head to the side to give you better access.

"Now, no one is going to doubt that you are already taken. You'll were those pretty bruises as a reminder of whom you belong to." You whisper into her ear, feeling her shudder beneath you.

"I'm yours, y/n." She whimpers, pressing her fingernails harder into your back.

You groan, watching her eyes roll back into her head as she gasps and moans uncontrollably. "Say it again."

Sweet whimpers fill the room, the most perfect music in your ears. The redhead stares at you with teary eyes as your fingers pick up their pace. Her whole body feels like she's going to explode at any given moment. You press your forehead against hers, pressing a kiss against her temple.

Her lips tremble as the emotions overwhelm her. "I'm yours...yours"

"Yeah... you're mine." Her walls clench around your fingers while her hips roll against your hand, searching for more friction. "My pretty, desperate girl."

Her teeth sink into her lower lip, pleasingly staring up at you with those bright eyes. "Please, y/n."

"Take it." You bite down on her shoulder, thriving on every little cry of pleasure. "Be a good girl for me and let me play with you. Yeah?"

"Y-yess."

Her body reacts to your every touch. Her eyes have this beautiful glance in them, totally dazed as you rub your thumb in tight circles over her small bundle of nerves. The coil inside her abdomen tenses, dangerously tightening as she moves closer to the edge.

She whines, your name falling out of her mouth like a prayer. Her hips roll forward in a hopeless attempt for more friction.

She feels so hot, her eyes fluttering open and shut every second. You flick your tongue over her nipple, switching between sucking and licking it. Every nerve ending becomes alive. Suddenly, you curl your fingers just right and hit the sweet spot inside her that makes her go mad. Wanda opens her mouth, trying to warn you as the coil snaps but no words leave her mouth.

With a silent scream, she comes around your fingers. You groan as you watch her fall over the edge, simply becoming one of the most beautiful sights you have ever seen. Her swollen lips. Squeezed shut eyes. The purple marks painted across her chest and neck.

Her legs tremble as you hold her close, leaving butterfly kisses all over her face and neck. Carefully, you move your fingers out of her and lick them clean. You groan at the taste of her, never getting enough of it. Wanda grins at you stupidly, giggling as you move a sweaty strand out of her face.

"I think I should flirt with other guys more often if you treat me like this."

[darklydeliciousdesires]

The Dream - Chapter Twenty Five.

Double update time today, besties! I kind of want to get the posting of this done with so I can have a break, also from noticing interest beginning to wane slightly. I totally get it, people are busy (I bloody know I am right now!) and we all have lives to lead outside of the fandom. But yeah, I guess that’s my fault in that it makes my insecurity rear its ugly head, making me question myself when I notice people quietening. I’m not seeking any empathy or anything like that, I’m just speaking from a place of honesty.

I know I need to improve, and I will. I’ll be taking a break from longer stories after this one to go away and do just that. @withmyteeth​ gave me some truly superb advice on where I needed to improve, so I’ve been taking that on board with writing. I’m feeling positive I’ll be able to come back better. 

Thanks to those of you who continue to engage, though. You’re very sweet and I appreciate you. You’re the ones I want to do better for, not just for myself! 

Previous chapters - Prologue  One  Two  Three  Four  Five  Six  Seven  Eight  Nine  Ten  Eleven  Twelve  Thirteen  Fourteen  Fifteen  Sixteen  Seventeen  Eighteen  Nineteen  Twenty Twenty One  Twenty Two  Twenty Three  Twenty Four

Tag list - In the comments, please DM to be added/removed (note: those not engaging will be automatically removed from the tag list, FYI)

Words - 2,380

Warnings - 18+ content throughout, minors DNI!

“What?”  

She truly hadn’t expected the decibels of his reply, especially not since he’d done so well in her being away for three months, but Keri’s revelation that she would only be home for eleven days before jetting off to Ireland for Luke’s sister’s wedding, well, it didn’t go down well with Angel. “You’ve only just got home!”

“Baby, I know, but it won’t be for long. Five days includes travel time,” she began, leaning back against the units in the kitchen. “I leave on Wednesday, Saoirse's wedding is on the Saturday, and I’ll be home the following Monday. It really isn’t a big thing.”

“But you only just arrived back, and now you want to go away again?”  

Oh, god. “I thought we’d dealt with this, Angel.” Her attempt to placate him was met with hostility, Angel throwing himself out of the chair at the kitchen table, stomping towards the door. “Come on, you’re being silly now. You always knew I’d travel with my work.”

“You’ll be with him again.”

Her brows furrowed. “Him?”  

���Yeah!” he yelled, pulling his phone out as he stuffed his feet into his boots. “This asshole!” Turning the screen of his phone, he showed her a picture she’d uploaded to her Instagram, a selfie she’d taken with Dolores, Roisin and Luke, three members of the band, Roisin and Luke kissing a cheek each, Dolores crouched beneath her chin, winking while bobbing her tongue out at the camera.

Keri couldn’t believe her ears. “You seriously have an issue with Luke? Roisin is kissing me, too, but you’re strangely quiet about her being an asshole! Then again, she doesn’t have a dick, does she?”

He was quiet then, reloading his retort, but Keri gave him no chance. His girlfriend was a mild-mannered sweetheart, but boy, if somebody put a match near her gas tank... Boom. Especially if they were casting aspersions. “Do you really think you have anything to worry about? Angel, we’re been together for eight months now, you know who I am. Do you really have me pegged as a cheater, or are you looking for an excuse to blow up just because you don’t want me going away again so soon?”

“I trust you, not him.”  

This wasn’t anything to do with Luke, and she knew it. This was his abandonment issue, rearing its ugly head, Keri realised, reaching for him. He pulled from her, though. “I gotta get to the yard.”

She shook her head in confusion. “You told me you had the day off?”

“Yeah? And you told me I mattered. Not enough for you to stick around long.” The slam of the door behind him vibrated the frame, Keri sighing, considering going after him. He likely needed to cool off, so she left it. In leaving it, though, she felt the agitation pouring through her veins, deciding to do something about it. Angel wasn’t a messy guy, but still, his house got the once over, everywhere smelling of polish, cleaning spray and fabric freshener once she was done, looking over at her suitcase.  

Clean clothes were a must.  

The laundromat was two blocks away from the weed shop, so with all of her dirty clothing items set on a hot wash, Keri trudged down in search of a friendly face, taking coffee and some doughnuts with her, too. She was greeted by all the warmth she needed, Sharise shrieking in surprise, rushing out behind the counter. She only just about had chance to place the items she carried down before receiving her beautiful friend in her arms, the girls embracing tightly.  

“I missed you so much!” she cried, holding Keri’s face in her hands, kissing her cheek.  

“I missed you too, lady,” she replied with warmth, rocking her in her arms, kissing her head as she pointed to the coffee and doughnuts. “Break time?”

“Let me just get these guys sorted and I’ll be right with you.” A half ounce of blueberry kush and an eighth of AK-47 later, and Sharise was free to join Keri in the back room, seating themselves in the former’s small office.  

“So, how is it being back?”  

Keri finished her mouthful of doughnut before replying. “I’m currently fighting the jetlag, still being on Australian time means my body thinks it should be asleep right now, but I’m doing what everyone says is best and just trying to keep busy, power through it. And it was going really well, until this morning when I revealed to Angel that I’m going over to Ireland again in eleven days' time to photograph a wedding. He blew up at me massively. I thought we’d gotten past that, with how well he’d handled it while I was away in Australia.”

She went on to detail the ins and outs of their argument, Sharise listening intently before weighing in. She knew she had to walk a fine line, what with Angel being her family but Keri also becoming a close friend. A little confliction rooted within her, but sipping her coffee, she chose honesty in the end. “Listen, he did handle it well, I was proud of him, but his sheen wasn’t quite as bright without you here. He missed you, he’s so in love with you and all he could do was count down the days until you came back to him.  

“However, that doesn’t mean he was right to explode at you, or accuse that Luke guy of anything nefarious, but like you say, he only likely did it to try and legitimise his abandonment issues, and not want to bring it back to those again. I think you did the right thing in letting him go cool off, because he’ll know he’s been an ass, but he won’t want to immediately admit to that. You’re right, too. You can’t put your life on hold for his comfort levels, so he’s gotta deal with it.”

Keri nodded, slumping in her seat a little. “I thought he already had, and that’s what kicks me in the guts most about it. He doesn’t need to feel so threatened by me not being around. I wish he’d settle and realise that just because there’ll be times when I’m physically far, my heart is always with him.”

“See, that’s the thing with Angel. He isn’t used to having a girlfriend with that kind of lifestyle. I mean, if he and Lucy had gone the distance, it would have been the same. She’ll likely have to do book tours once her cookbook comes out, she’s very ambitious just like you are, but for Angel, he almost can’t separate that. I think it’s because his own life has been so firmly rooted in Santo Padre. He likes the idea of having someone who’s always there for him, and the idea of them not being so frightens him, brings up everything about his mom’s death,” she explained, Keri nodding deeply.

“I know, and I do feel bad now for yelling at him. Underneath the veneer of big, bad outlaw wolf, he’s a little wounded cub, and I want to make that better for him, but he has to help himself, too. He can’t just explode and think I’ll change my mind because he’s being difficult. I won’t. I love him, he’s the absolute love of my life, but I won’t put that life on hold just to make him feel more secure.”  

It was a tough situation to be in and Sharise sympathised, advising that she should at least try and talk to him again once he returned home later, but that ultimately, she was right. It was Angel’s issue to deal with, not hers. After Keri left to go and pile her laundry into the dryer, Sharise quietly thought to herself that her brother-in-law truly did need to sort out his mess there, because Keri wasn’t the kind of girl who would placate him forever if he continually threw distrust at her, no matter how much she loved him.  

While Keri was sitting at the laundromat awaiting her clothes to dry, she sat and contemplated much the same, a realisation hitting her. This truly was the obelisk, but god, how she hoped it wouldn’t be a fatal disagreement. The saddest part was, though, that she realised only too clearly if Angel couldn’t get his head straight with the idea of her being away from him, it likely would be. She couldn’t handle it, him berating her because of his own insecurity, especially if he was only prepared to overcome it for short periods, before reverting once more to entertaining what her being away stirred within him.

It filled her with nothing but dread, knowing that if this continued, she would have no choice but to walk away from him. It was a bitter pill to swallow, for she loved him with her entire heart, but she saw no choice if he didn’t want to get better, or let in room for healthy growth where his insecurities were concerned.  

Tears prickled her eyes, Keri wiping them quickly, not wanting to draw attention to herself at the instant heartbreak that trying to imagine a life without Angel in it had stirred, reaching for her phone, seriously contemplating for a few moments whether she should contact Luke and tell him she couldn’t make it. She stopped, though, realising that if she did, Angel would know that an outburst would be all it took in the future in order for her to toe the line for the sake of his comfort.  

No matter how much she loved him and wanted to ease his insecurity, she couldn’t do that.  

She wouldn’t do that.  

He was a grown man of thirty-six, her a young woman of twenty-three. He needed to be the one who did better, without her placating him. After her clothes were dry, she loaded up the huge IKEA bag she’d bundled them into, heading home and ironing everything, placing them away in the wardrobe and drawers before fixing herself a late lunch. As much as she tried to stay awake, putting on a Netflix documentary she’d been waiting to have the time to sit down and enjoy in full, she ended up asleep on the sofa, not waking until 9pm.  

Angel still wasn’t home.  

Calling him, the phone rang out, so she sent him a message, asking when he’d be home. By eleven thirty, she could see he’d read it, but hadn’t replied. She tried calling again, the call being cut dead this time after three rings. So, he knew very well she wanted to talk to him, but this was how he was going to deal with it.  

‘Angel, please come home, or call me. We need to talk about this. Love you xx’ The message was read within minutes, but by 1am, he still had neither returned to her or replied.

“Well, this is on you if you’re choosing to behave this way.” The next thing she did was to call up her browser and book a ticket to Utah for the following day. If he wasn’t going to even try with her, then she’d just leave him to it for a while, go and spend some time with the people who she’d missed just as much as she had him, give him time to figure it all out. She didn’t want to spend any further time away, but the fact that she lay alone in bed all night without him returning didn’t give her a lot of options.  

It was 6am when he finally returned, looking worse for wear, his eyes violet with tiredness, his face sour. Especially when he saw her suitcase packed again by the front door. Hurt flashed his eyes as he turned to view her sitting on the couch while he pointed at the luggage. “Where you going?”

“Home,” she replied simply. “If your idea of us fixing this issue is to ignore me and stay out all night, then I’m not gonna stick around to be treated like that. You obviously want some time away from me, Angel, so I’m going to give you that. I don’t want to, I’ve missed you so much and all I want is for us to talk about this, but I think you’ve made your feelings clear there.”

His face darkened, sliding his kutte off and hanging it up, shrugging. “Fine.” The word slipped from his mouth like a biting frost, glaring at her before he walked to the bedroom, slamming the door behind him. She could have cried, but she didn’t, following him into the bedroom to retrieve her bag and cell. “Keri just fucking leave me alone.”

“So that’s it, huh? From your perspective, this is how you want to leave things between us?”

He turned to her, his glare fixed in place. “You’re the one doing the leaving.”  

She was staunch in her reply, sighing, closing her eyes tightly for a moment in an attempt to gather herself. “And you’re the one giving me no choice by refusing to talk about it. Angel, I love you so much, but I’m not going to put my life on hold just to make you feel comfortable. You’re a grown man. You really, really need to resolve this within yourself. Me leaving you isn’t me abandoning you. I’m always coming back, because you’re worth coming back to. Because I want to come back to you. If you can’t figure that out or accept it, then I don’t know where we go from here.”

“Apparently you go home.”

“Yeah,” she scoffed bitterly. “Apparently I do.”  

Picking up her bag and cell, she left, her flight not due to depart for three hours, feeling like she had no choice but to leave early. She didn’t want to, every fibre and bone of her being wanted to go and cuddle up to him for an hour before she had to leave, but she couldn’t. He didn’t want her to, much preferring to stew in his own ridiculous handling of the situation.  

The tears she’d successfully managed to hold onto in the house came as soon as she pulled off and drove down the street, wondering truly if that was it for them.  

She hoped to god that it wasn’t.

[dimples-of-discontent]

Oh anons flooding my inbox to tell me that I’m a conspiracy theorist for thinking there’s more to this finale than meets the eye and/or that it’s totally the writers’ fault, you have no idea how much I do not care! I’m tagging anything related as “finale theories” and you should feel free to blacklist it using whatever method you so choose. I’m staying away, until the dust settles, from drawing any conclusions about what exactly happened to the script (either to make it what it was pre-covid or post-covid) or what cut scenes might have contained, or who was at fault for how it all turned out.

To the anons who think I’m reading too much into Jensen and Misha’s relative “silence” on the finale, I have some comments. With Misha it’s harder to tell, but I am completely convinced that Jensen is deliberately not engaging with finale-related content because he’s so alienated, angry, and disappointed. I think Misha is finding ways to talk about it that he thinks will support the fandom, rather than the network, and frankly he is far more used to having to deal with the feeling of being screwed by the network but still loving the fans. But Jensen really trusted them and they did him really dirty.

Leaving aside the fact that neither Jensen nor Misha was in the CW “thank you” video--which is LOUD AF of them--let’s look at the social media angle. We already know that Jensen wasn’t happy with the finale as it was written (which likely included Dean dying and, yes, that was probably his biggest beef, but I’ll bet he had some words about Misha’s character too) and talked to several people about it. He was then told to accept it and make his peace and he did that and did the best he could. Now, since November 5th we’ve heard very little from him and definitely not in the ways you would expect to hear from the star of a long-running show like SPN.

He’s been much more forthcoming about how proud he was of the scene he shot with Misha in “Despair.” Jensen and Misha both posted about 15x18 and Jensen happily talked about it on a livestream. It meant so much to him personally (as the last scene they’d film together, or as a momentous moment in the show, or as something else) that he had someone film it on his phone just for him and admitted breaking character. They talked it through beforehand a lot. They talked about it after a lot and texted each other fan reaction videos. They were glad to be able to do something that meant so much to us and that brought the story to this point.

Over on Twitter, Misha seems pretty much his same self, using the proper hashtag (which in the old days of Twitter he used to mock Jensen for not knowing how to do) and RTing nostalgic comments from Kripke, Jim Michaels, etc. His personal tweets just tagged Jensen and Jared. The set pics he shared were from 15x18. Jensen just gave Entertainment Weekly a RT for the finale. He’s pretty much full-time on Instagram, but that’s still pretty little engagement. He liked two tweets, both on 11/5 when 15x18 was airing, by Misha and Bobo Berens, but zero tweets related to the finale. (Jared tweeted during the finale a few times and then sent some comfort to the fans. FWIW he also didn’t RT or tag any network folks. I think he’s probably less happy than he seems, but he’s a company boy doing a new show with them so his hands are tied.)

Over on Instagram, on the day of the finale Misha was busy. He posted a pic of Maise “Spon on-set props assistant” in a trench coat robe. Jensen liked that. He also posted a video recapping and asking people to tune into the finale. Jensen did not like that. THEN he posted a pic of him and Jensen filming 15x18. Jensen liked that. Pic of Misha and the kids about to watch SPN? Jensen likes it. Pic of Misha crying during the finale and saying how much he’s going to miss Sam and Dean that actually tags Jensen? Jensen does not like it. The gist? Jensen “likes” all Misha’s posts from that day except the two related to the content of the finale (rather than watching it with West and Maison...and besides, soft boy Jensen isn’t going to not like a pic of West and Maison!).

And here’s Jensen’s account. On November 3rd, Jensen posts to thank TV Guide. On the 19th he posts to thank Entertainment Weekly. On the day of the finale, he posts a pic of Dean’s boots and a video of him getting dressed as Dean “for the last time - for now.” (I think that was a clumsy attempt not to spoil anything but I will also hold onto the idea that maybe he will do his own version of a sequel. The day after the finale he posts a slightly salty photo of the piece of rebar (aka “the rusty nail”) that killed Dean captioned “Excuse me....uh, ‘set dec’!!! Can we get this removed please?!?!” and uses the hashtag “spnfamilyforever.” That’s the hashtag for us--for the fans--rather than anything official. Those posts were both for us too, showing him loving Dean and loving being Dean and being just as pissed as us about his death. (For the record, Jared posted a pic of him watching the finale, also hashtagging the spnfamily, and Jensen liked it.)

All the people that he’s not thanking reads very loudly. Contrast to all the thanks he (and everyone else) were throwing like roses at the 300th episode party. Jensen is a generous guy. He’s professional, everyone likes him, and he likes to credit everyone for their accomplishments. For him to be this silent and not write a single caption thanking ANYONE aside from TV Guide and Entertainment Weekly (who he needs to keep on his good side for his own production company)? IS SO OUT OF CHARACTER!!! Every con, every interview, he talks about how they couldn’t do what they do without the help of all these other people along the way. To not have it in him to thank those people? He must be hurting so incredibly badly.

He cares about us so he’ll do what he can for the SPN family. But it won’t surprise me if the clusterfuck of an ending alienated him so much that we don’t get things we might otherwise (more panels, for example, or cons) because he is just done working with the people who hurt him. I’m glad he was smiling in that most recent livestream because he sure doesn’t seem happy right now.

[alltooreid]

congrats on 100<33

✏️ - idk if this is a good enough concept but something along the lines of reader being scared of something (can be a thunder storm or haunted house or anything u want lol) and spencer comforts reader

(reader can be fem. (she/her) or gn (they/them), it doesn’t matter to me)

i hope this made sense, i didn’t wna go to into detail that way u could work freely with it lolll 💓

omg this makes perfect sense and it’s such a cute idea!! I went a little overboard and this got really long because I added a little meet-cute situation but I hope you love it anyway!! Also I changed Y/N’s fear because I had a really good idea and you were so open!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x GN! Reader

Type: comfort so like angst/fluff idk??

Word Count: 1.4K (oops)

Content Warnings: discussion of blood

When Y/N was five years old they told their mom they wanted to be a doctor. However, when one is five years old they assume being a doctor only entails helping people, being nice to children and giving them lollipops and that seemed like the best career choice ever.

However, when Y/N was six years old they went on a bike ride with their next door neighbor, a girl their age named Rebecca. This particular neighborhood friend loved to play dangerously and had conceived a game like tag, however you had to stay on the bike the entire time. Although innocent on paper, about 12 minutes into the game Rebecca had stood up on the seat of her bicycle in an attempt to get a better reach at Y/N and tumbled over the front handlebars.

She shook it off quickly and by the time Y/N had rushed over to help she was already on her feet.

“Are you okay?” Y/N asked in a panic.

Rebecca brushed some rocks off her shorts, looked up at Y/N and smiled, “Yep! That was so much fun!” she said, going in for a high five.

Rebecca however, was not okay and had failed to notice that two of the “rocks” she had brushed off were actually her two front teeth. When she smiled and spoke to Y/N they were overcome with panic when they saw her mouth, missing two teeth and gushing blood.

So naturally, they immediately passed out.

Rebecca quickly ran to get her mother, more concerned for Y/N than herself, and still hadn’t even noticed her teeth’s absence. Both children were driven to the hospital, and although Y/N woke up on the way, they got checked out to make sure they didn’t have a concussion.

Soon after they were clear Y/N’s parents arrived. Hovering over their six year old and asking all sorts of questions, the first and only thing Y/N thought to do is turn to their mother. “Mom?”

“Yes sweetheart?”

“I don’t think I wanna be a doctor anymore.”

Y/N’s mother laughed and wrapped her arms around the crying child, “Maybe that’s not the best idea.”

Even with their fear of blood, Y/N career ambitions remained the same: help people, be nice to children, hand out lollipops. So when they graduated Y/N started their own candy store. It was the perfect job for such a sweet soul, and by the time they were 28 Y/N had perfected their storefront. Glass displays were replaced with plastic to prevent people cutting themselves if they broke, they keep a small collection of different patterned and themed band-aids right next to the cash register and without fail had at least one medical student working in the summer in between school years (in case of emergencies).

But no amount of prepping could help Y/N when Dr. Spencer Reid came into their store with his four year old godson.

Y/N couldn’t help but smile as they watched Spencer and Henry zoom around the empty store, Henry throwing all kinds of sugary sweets into his basket and Spencer encouraging the entire thing. Soon enough the two were at the register and dumping at least eighty dollars worth of candy on the counter. Y/N began ringing it up, but was soon interrupted by the small child, barely in sight because of the desk in front of him.

“Excuse me? Do you have a band-aid? I got a paper cut.”

“Yes I do! What kind of band-aid do you want?”

“Ummmm do you have Spiderman?”

“Of course I have Spiderman! Here you go,” they said, setting it on the counter.

“Can you put it on for me?” He reached up his little finger to show Y/N his cut.

Quickly jolting their head, Y/N panicked “Um maybe you could have your dad help you with that. . .”

“Of course, I’m sorry, and I’m actually his godfather. . . “ He looked up and noticed Y/N’s aversion to the cut, “It’s safe to look now.”

Y/N sighed, “I’m sorry, I just can’t stand blood. What did he cut it on?”

Henry was entertaining himself flipping through the pages of his godfather’s abnormally large book, not reading it of course, because although Henry was smart for a four year old, he was not yet fluent in Russian.

“Oh nothing that’s your fault,” the man said. He was then nudged by his godson, and apparently, personal wingman, “Um, I’m Spencer!”

“Hi Spencer! I’m Y/N,” they smiled, finishing their calculations, “Um, your total is $81.92”

He was thrown off, “That’s not right, it should be 96.37. . . Did you forget something?”

“Actually your forgetting my 15% injury discount, and the extra lollipop I give to nice kids,” they reached down to hand Henry a raspberry lemonade lollipop.

“You really don’t have to do that! It was my fault really-”

“No seriously, trust me I’m kind of ripping you off here. I combined the injury discount and the cute guy discount.”

Spencer blushed, “Um well maybe we could go get coffee sometime to make it up to me.”

“I would love that”

On this coffee date Y/N learned about Spencer’s job and was shocked he would go on a date with someone who was scared of papercuts. However Spencer explained he found it admirable that someone could be so affected by other people’s pain, and later into their relationship discussed how he wished he was as affected by the gore of his job as he was during the beginning.

Their romance worked perfectly, Spencer loved having someone waiting at home for him, a person who could be completely separate from work and the cases that affected him so much that he needed to talk about them typically ended up involving more manipulation than gore.

But just over a year in Y/N got a phone call from Aaron Hotchner.

Spencer had been shot in the neck.

They got to the hospital as soon as possible, and rushed to Spencer’s room, completely forgetting about the things they were almost certainly going to see.

So when Y/N walked in at the worst possible moment, as Spencer was getting his gauze changed and his open wound was in full view, they freaked out, letting out a quick scream and crouching to the ground, covering their eyes with their hands.

“Y/N! You’re here!”

Y/N did their best and eventually had made their way to Spencer’s bedside chairs, only having to peek twice. Once there, Y/N’s hands remained firmly locked over their eyes, both to protect themselves from the blood and to cover their panicked tears from Spencer.

“Y/N, close your eyes tight and remove your hands for me darling.”

They shook their head aggressively. Spencer sighed, “Trust me, I’ve got you.” So they did, and as they kept their eyes glued shut, Y/N felt Spencer use his thumb to wipe tears from their cheeks, before tying something around their eyes.

“See, now you can’t see the blood, and I can hold you,” he said, grabbing one of Y/N’s hands and kissing the back of it now that gauze had been tied around their eyes.

Quickly Y/N wrapped their arms around Spencer’s middle as best as they could with him laying down, and cried into him. Spencer soothed them by petting their hair, “It’s okay darling, they just changed the gauze so it’s gone now, there’s no more blood if you feel ready to take it off.”

Y/N sobbed more and ripped their makeshift blind fold off, “I’m so stupid. . . You got shot and you have to comfort me because of a little blood . . .”

“No, no, no. Don’t talk about yourself like that, you are not stupid. You’re scared and overwhelmed. I already knew I was okay but you didn’t when you came in there, not only that but as soon as you came into this extremely stressful situation you were greeted with your worst fear. You’re all I’m worried about right now.”

Y/N smiled “I’m so happy you’re okay. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Well luckily you don’t have to worry about it.”

-Thank you for reading!! please reblog and let me know what you think :)))

Holly’s tiny taglist!!: @hercleverboy @reidingmelodies @rigatonireid @muffin-cup @takeyouleap-of-faith 

(let me know if you want to be added or removed!!)

[bruhstories]

Vogel und Jäger

- PART THREE

Summary: You had your first show at Zeke's club, but things begin to complicate. Pairing: Zeke Jeager x Fem!Reader Warnings & Content: language, Floch is a creep Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: as always, make sure to read parts one and two to understand just what the hell is happening. the songs reader is singing in this chapter are flickers and easy by son lux, which i've linked down below if you wanna listen to it as you read

For five long days you switched between training with Mikasa and practising with the band. The deadly assassin made you work hard, teaching you various techniques of martial arts, as well as how to load and unload guns, how to aim, how to use knives and even how to use crossbows. You were no match to anyone else in the family, getting your ass kicked even by Armin, the bookkeeper, but you were not going to give up. Your will to survive fuelled you. What you weren’t expecting in those five days was to get to know Mikasa and Armin, and realise that they were just as normal as you were — with the added benefit of being properly trained in marksmanship and combat. And they were surprisingly nice to you, but there was a hint of reluctance in their actions and words.

Friday night you had your first show and you found yourself in the backstage, a knot in your throat as you did your makeup. The idea of Yelena blowing your brains out was a lot more pleasant than having to perform in front of so many people. Posters had been put up all over Paradis City announcing your first show at Wings Club, and you knew lots of undercover policemen would be there, perhaps even undercover Marleyans. But for some odd reason, you wanted to please Zeke, make him proud of sparing your pathetic life. Onyankopon told you to be ready in five minutes, and your heart sank, wiping your sweaty palms on the crimson dress.

"You'll do fine." He told you, but you had a bad feeling. There were guards everywhere, so you felt somewhat safe, but stage fright settled in your heart, and you couldn't even reply anything back. All you did was remain stuck in a trance.

The band was ready, the microphone was on, and you waited for the curtain to rise. Someone announced your performance, and the violinist began playing the notes of the first song as the spectators waited eagerly. There were no original songs, only jazz covers, and you felt every single pair of irises burning into your skin. You closed your eyes, imagining no one was there but you and the band, everyone else disappeared.

"And with my opened mouth I join the singing light..."

There was no turning back now. You'd done it. The spotlight was on you and you alone. Soon the pianist joined, and you felt a bit more confident.

"I can see the flickers, over me the lantern raised... Lift me up, lift me over it. Show me what you're hiding, take me out into the sea... Lift me up, lift me over it."

Somewhere upstairs, Zeke was watching over you, door wide open to hear your beautiful voice hypnotising every man and woman in the club. Indeed, he made the right choice.

"And with my opened mouth I join the singing light..."

You were in a trance. Nothing mattered anymore but the music, the vibrations, the thrill of the show. It was giving you a sense of importance and belonging, and in that moment, you knew it — you were thriving off of the attention, the way no one dared to move while you sang. You captivated the spectators with your voice, you captivated Zeke with your voice.

"I can see the flickers, over me the lantern raised... Lift me up, lift me over it. Show me what you're hiding, take me out into the sea... Lift me up, lift me over it."

You finally opened your eyes, drinking in the way everyone was silent, the only sound resonating being the final notes from the musical instruments. The next songs came so much easier to you, some were more upbeat and you stopped being stiff, your hands moving up and down the microphone pole, hips swaying, head tilting. You ended your performance with another emotional song, and even you had goosebumps on your skin as you began to sing.

"Easy... easy... pull out your heart to make the being alone easy. Easy... pull out your heart to make the being alone easy. Easy..."

You saw them, the two cops from the files. They were watching you like hawks, sending chills down your spine. But you were a distraction, so you looked them in the eye, a smile on your plump lips.

"Easy, easy... You break the bridle to make losing control easy, easy... Crushed what you're holding so you can say letting go is easy, easy..."

The song was coming to an end. You wrapped your arms around yourself to emphasise the emotions you were so gently transmitting, voice echoing in the club.

"Oh, easy, easy... Burn all your things to make the fight to forget easy, oh, easy... Burn all your things to make the fight to forget easy, easy..."

You weren't just transmitting an emotion, you were feeling it, too. The song resonated with your life, your struggles, your issues. You were alone most of your life, save for Historia and the children. But now... now you had someone, albeit being forced to work for the mafia. But you weren't alone anymore.

"Easy... easy... pull out your heart to make the being alone easy. Easy... pull out your heart to make the being alone easy. Easy..."

You bowed in front of the crowd as a round of applause replaced your voice and music. It was exhilarating, the adrenaline not wanting to leave your body. You mumbled a soft thank you in the microphone before leaving the stage, tripping on the last step. Onyankopon was waiting for you with a large bouquet of peonies and daffodils, your eyes widening at the beautiful flowers and sweet scent.

"This is for you, miss." He smiled, but his smile was hiding something and you couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was.

"Thank you, but you didn't have to!"

"Oh, it's not from me." Onyankopon pursed his lips. There it was. You looked at the card attached to the bouquet — You are as radiating as the sun, but as cold as the moon. E.S. The message was written in perfectly neat calligraphy.

"E.S.? Any idea who that might be?" You tucked the card between the flowers as you walked with the mobster in the dressing room.

"I know exactly who that is." He sighed, eyes narrowing at the bouquet. "Inspector Erwin Smith, chief of police. He handed me the flowers personally."

"Isn't he working for you?" You removed the heavy earrings from your earlobes.

"He is. It appears he likes you." Onyankopon folded his arms across his chest and a man with strawberry-blond hair entered the room, earning disgusted looks from all the half-naked girls there.

"Boss wants to see you." He sneered at you, goosebumps dotting your arms.

"We'll be upstairs soon, Floch."

"No, not you. Just birdie. Chop chop." Floch left the room and you got up. Onyankopon grabbed your wrist, stopping you in your tracks before giving you a concerned gaze.

"Be careful around him. He's... strange."

"I'll keep my guard up." You tried to smile. There were lots of things you didn't know about the men you were working with, so you made a mental note to ask Sasha and Connie about Floch.

"So, I hear you're a prostitute." He bluntly stated, and you flinched at his words. The audacity of this bitch!

"Was." You corrected him. "Besides, it's none of your business."

Your shoulder blades met with a wall and you let out a whimper at the impact. Floch eyed you up and down, his hands holding you in place.

"Everything you do is my business." He sneered, his face leaning closer inch by inch, closing the gap between you. "Ah, you even smell like a whore."

You feel disgusted by that creep, the way he sniffed you twisting your lips into a frown. Onyankopon was right to warn you, and so you slap his face, hard.

"Don't touch me again." You lifted your gown above your ankles and walked up the stairs, with Floch behind you. Fucking pervert.

"Ah, little bird, you've been fantastic!" Zeke greeted you, cigarette between his fingers. "I heard you even received flowers."

"Yes, from Erwin Smith." You nod, eyes on Floch's shit-eating grin.

"Good. I want you to meet with him after your show tomorrow." Your boss smiled and your eyes drifted to the healing wound in your left hand. You knew you caouldn't say no. "I suspect he'll want to recruit you as a double agent."

"Do I accept?"

"Of course, but you'll be telling him exactly what I tell you."

"Understood."

"You may go. Don't forget to take your pay from Armin."

"Yes, sir." You gently bowed your head in respect and left. Floch whispered whoreas you passed him and you gritted your teeth.

"Say, Connie, can I ask you something?" You watched your roommate unbox some bottles of fancy liquor.

"Sure! What's on your mind?" He asked, focused on his task.

"What can you tell me about Floch?"

Connie almost dropped the bottle, his eyes finding yours. "Just that you should stay away from him."

Sasha walked in with what you assumed to be a bag full of drugs and that's when it clicked — they were going to put the drugs in the boxes and ship them. Clever.

"Floch is insane." The brown-eyed girl scrunched her nose. "He's obsessed with Eren and thinks Zeke should step down and let his brother take his place. Why? Did he do anything to you?"

"Yes and no." You proceeded to explain what happened back at the club to your roommates and the look of disgust on their faces only confirmed what you assumed.

So far, you decided to only trust Sasha, Connie and Onyankopon, and hope that Zeke wouldn't give up his title. Otherwise, you'd end up dead in a ditch, and the one who’d put a bullet between your eyes was Floch himself.

tagging @mxhi

[gondowan]

Over Your Shoulder

Pairing: Paz Viszla/F!Reader

The Armstech and Paz have a fun night.

Word Count: 3,680 (holy fuck lmao)

Tags/Warnings:  18+ only, Good Communication Is My Kink, daddy/sir kink, and other sexy consensual shenanigans. This one is all smut just fyi. 

Notes: Ch 1 Here! Happy first Monday of 2021 folks.  

Chapter 2: Can I Get A Bird's Eye View?

“Would you care to find out?”

If you had asked Paz Viszla what he would be doing that day, making a move on the (charming) armstech would not be on the list. He had originally come back to Nevarro on a tip and to see what was left of the Covert, and what could be moved to the new location. He hadn’t planned to stay for too long, but the Bothan’s annoying non-description of who had the datapad stretched Paz’s stay from three days to two weeks. He wasn’t exactly a tracker, that was always a task better suited for someone such as Djarin. 

After gently persuading the local dockmaster for a list of new arrivals to Nevarro, he had worked down the list to arrive at the new Guild armstech. She had just arrived a week ago from Bothanui, and set up shop next to the cantina at Greef Karga’s request. Unfortunately, Paz didn’t quite have the luxury of just walking into her workshop. For one, it was constantly busy; day in and day out the woman saw a steady stream of clients, all heavily armed and odds were at least two of them would not be happy to see a Mandalorian. Secondly, he had managed to stay out of the New Republic and the Guild’s radar long enough, and he vastly preferred keeping it that way. Blue beskar and gattling gun(s) were not exactly conducive to blending in with crowds. So, the next logical step of course was to break in quietly, hope he didn’t cause a scene, and leave Nevarro. 

Except it didn’t quite pan out that way. Paz had managed to disable the apartment’s security system (not an easy task, this woman was clearly no amateur, he was quite impressed) but she had come back a bit earlier than he expected. 

Fuck. 

The first thing he saw was her blaster, safety off and pointed directly at him. “What do you want?” she asked. For someone coming face to face with an intruder, she didn’t appear nervous at all-- that probably had to do with her skill not just in weapons repair but weapons writ large. He also saw her giving him a twice-over, gaze lingering on his body, how curious. 

Paz cut straight to the chase, hoping to avoid making a scene “The datapad,”.

The woman relaxed and rummaged through her toolkit before walking right up to his face. That was new. Most people, even ones who might call Paz a friend, chose to keep their distance. Either this armstech had nerves of steel or he was losing his touch. “You might want to get this blaster checked,” she motioned at his thighs, “Those scorch marks are usually a bad sign,”. Her gaze lingered briefly and Paz was grateful for his helmet and armor for concealing his expression.

 Paz took the datapad, verified its contents, and turned to leave. “Thank you for this,”. 

“Ah, so you do have manners,” she teased, voice bright before she shut the door. 

What a strange being.

Against his better judgement, Paz showed up the next night. And subsequent nights after that. It was for his own good, he justified to himself, with the Armorer out of reach for the time being, his arsenal did need a good onceover. The other part of him just really wanted to get to know this woman better. She was definitely good at her craft, and carried herself with a general air of confidence, standing up to idiots who wanted to underpay or worse, tried to flirt with her for discounts. She was a by the books type of person, and was polite with clients, but kept to herself despite invitations for a drink from cocky guild members. 

She had also taken to calling him Blue, which amused Paz greatly.  

“Uh...would you like to stay for dinner?” she asked, eyes flickering briefly at him before returning to the gattling gun on his table. He could tell that she was trying to keep her voice casual, but her shoulders were tense.

Paz really wanted to, but blast, the Creed. “I can’t..but not for the reason you think. I can’t remove my helmet in the presence of others...it’s part of being a Mandalorian”. 

He could see the disappointment manifest in your body, and the knowledge that he was the one to do that to you disturbed him greatly. 

“Don’t you ever get lonely?” 

That was not the follow up question Paz was expecting. Truth be told, he was. The Covert had scattered, and the people he loved were either dead in the ground, missing, or far away. Maybe that was part of what drew him to this particular woman. Something consistent to look forward to, even if it was only for the past week or so. There was also the matter of the bantha in the room-- the rising tension demarcated as of late by light touches on her wrist or at the shell of her ear followed by cheeks flushing red. Paz wondered if she flushed red elsewhere as well. 

“Would you care to find out?”

It felt like the air was sucked out of your tiny apartment. You could hear the blood pounding in your heart, ears ringing as you came to grips with the situation. Was he asking what you thought he was asking? 

As if he could see the gears turning in your mind, the Mandalorian chuckled, thumb running across your bottom lip “A simple yes or no will suffice. I won’t take what isn’t freely given,”. 

You wondered what it would be like to bite his glove off.  What his hands would feel like. Yours were callused from years of mechanical work

“Yes.” you whispered, leaving a gentle kiss on his finger. 

He leaned closer, helmet grazing the side of your cheek as the vocoder crackled, “That was the response I was hoping for,”. He turned you around with a gentle push of his arm, “Let me take you to bed.” 

This was actually happening. You took his hand, looking for an anchor as you led him to your room. As soon as you were there, the brief bravado you had summoned earlier started to dissipate. You settled for helping him take off his bulky armor, pauldrons, greaves, and cuirass forming a neat pile by your bed, until he was left in his helmet and sinfully tight undershirt and pants. It was then that you realized that while the armor added a lot to his frame, he was just big to begin with, easily dwarfing you. 

Maker, you didn’t even know his name. You had barely met. Was this really happening? Yes, you had wanted him but was this too soon? Were you being too forward? 

“Stop thinking,” he growled, breaking you out of your reverie. He took your hands in his, laying gentle kisses over your knuckles, a kind gesture probably to try to assuage your fears. A thoughtful gesture from someone who lived and breathed war. He helps you out of your top, carefully peeling it off of you, making appreciative noises as you become more and more exposed. Your pants come off next, and inwardly you wish you had the foresight to wear something nicer than what you had on, but that feeling washes away when his fingers dip just inside the waistband of your underwear, teasing.   

“Do you trust me?” he whispered, right hand coming up to cup your face in a reassuring gesture. “I’m safe just so you know, I got my implant checked recently,”. You echo his statement, inwardly thanking yourself for keeping up to date with your health. 

He held your discarded scarf in the other, “If I cover your eyes I can--” 

You closed your eyes, already anticipating his ask. No turning back now, you were all in. You heard him take a sharp intake of breath before carefully wrapping the scarf around your eyes. It was...nice. Without the gift of sight you couldn’t worry about how you looked or what to do. Paradoxically, you felt a little freer than you ever had. You heard of the clunk of the helmet being placed on the ground, and then, his lips were pressing on yours. 

Softly at first, an almost chaste movement, as if he were gauging your response, trying to make sure he wasn’t overstepping. It was sweet, but you didn’t come this far for that. You wrapped your arms around him, deepening the kiss, mouth opening to try to convey your desires. It had been a while, you were going to make the most out of this, however fleeting it may be. 

You could feel him smiling a little against your mouth and empowered by your kiss, he moved his hands down, thumbs caressing your throat, enjoying the way your breath hitched. He slowly mapped your body, making you giggle when his stubble cheek grazed your collarbones. Down and back up your arms, laying kisses down your sternum and your stomach, and the back up your legs. Carefully and methodically. 

You could feel yourself getting wetter, and tried to squeeze your thighs for some friction, anything to help with the pressure. He laughed as he held your thighs apart, “No, not yet,”. 

“Blue I…,” you squirmed, fidgeting against his hold. 

His voice piped up from between your legs, “It’s Paz.”

You blinked under the blindfold. “What?”.

“My name is Paz Viszla,” he murmured, tongue licking a strip up your inner thigh. You shivered. 

Ohhh. “Paz…” you murmured, trying out his name on your tongue, “Paz.”

Paz’s mouth trailed upwards towards your center. “Careful sweetheart, gonna give me ideas with the way you call my name,”. His hands slid back up your torso tracing a line right along the underside of your breasts while his lips continued to ghost around your inner thighs. You could almost feel his breath on your clit, and your attempts to grind onto something are met with empty air. 

You whined, desperate for more sensation, “Hurry up, I haven’t got all night” you huffed. This was supposed to be a quick fuck. You were used to quick one night stands with random fly guys, all rushed and without much pomp and circumstance. This pace was killing you, albeit in a good way. 

You were rewarded with a slight pinch to your nipples, and your body arched, chasing the crumb of sensation. Paz continued to work your nipples, alternating between rubbing them with the soft pads of your fingers and pinching them. Hazily, you thought about asking him to pull. 

“So sensitive,” he murmured as if he was describing the weather and not as if he was torturing you by sucking a bruise right at the valley where your torso meets your leg.

You pout, the thought of saying please at ready on your tongue. Anything for more.  

“Impatient aren’t you? Too used to having it your way? That’ll be something to work on next time,”

As much as you were loath to admit it, the admission of “next time” filled you with a funny sensation. Maybe, just maybe, this wouldn’t be just a one time thing. But now was not the time to interrogate that. You jerk your head down at his general direction, “Paz, I swear to whoever if you don’t touch me---”

“I am touching you sweetheart. This is called foreplay,”

“I should’ve shot you that night you broke in.” you retort, pretending to be exasperated. You had fantasized about what it would be like to fuck the man underneath the blue beskar, but slow and teasing were not in your assumptions. If he wasn’t doing such sublime things to your nipples, you might actually kill him, you think. You can feel Paz finally lifting his head from your thighs, hands continuing their torture of your chest. He presses kisses on the underside of your jaw and on your neck, clearly enjoying the way you fuss around to look for more.  

You want something, anything more than what he’s giving you. “It’s not my first time you know, I don’t need---”. 

“Oh I know, but this is your first time with me,” and with that he finally palms your crotch, finally giving you some sweet pressure at your center. He slips a finger in between your folds, drawing circles around your clit with the back of his knuckle. Fuck, that’s nice. 

“Remember to breathe,” Paz says, a smug tone evident against the crook of your neck. Two can play at this game, you decide, moving your arm up, aiming blindly for his crotch. Paz quickly side steps you with a swiftness that belies his frame and he swats at your thigh, causing you to yelp. 

“Nice try but...let me take care of you. Will you let me hmm? I can make it so good for you,” he murmurs, one hand continuing to rub your clit, the other massaging the spot he had hit on your leg, his tone making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. 

That exact sequence of words tickles something in the back of your mind. A desire to be soft, pliant, and obedient for this beautiful and dangerous man. To hand over the reigns of your pleasure to him. You sigh, and let down your guard. 

Paz can feel the exact moment you decide to stop fighting him. He wasn’t expecting all of this so soon, and it was definitely something that they’d have to discuss later to set limits and boundaries, but fuck if it wasn’t sexy to see this beautiful woman allow him to pleasure her in the way that he wanted. He had long nourished a desire to be a caretaker in one way or another, but the life of a Mandalorian was not exactly conducive to relationships built on so many layers of trust and understanding. The possibility of you made his head spin a little.

Paz thinks about what it would be like to ruin you, this beautiful and talented specimen.  He doesn’t even register how hard he is and how uncomfortable his pants are as he drinks in the sight of you laid out on the bed in front of him, nipples hard, pussy wet, mouth open, wanting, wanting him. Paz wasn’t quite sure what possessed him to move immediately to blindfolds and taking his helmet off (he’s done that all of once in his adult life), but he knew he would absolutely regret it if he didn’t get to kiss and taste you before the night was over. He goes back on his knees in front of you. 

You can feel his breath on your clit again and his finger tracing your entrance and you make a noise in anticipation.

“There we go. Just relax, fuck, gonna make this so good for you,” he whispers, slowly inserting his finger into your pussy. You’re so wet that it slips in easily, and Paz moves his finger in and out, exploring you. It’s nice to have something for you to hold on to, but it’s not quite enough. 

As if he can read your mind, you feel a second finger at your entrance and right as Paz slips it in, you also feel his tongue on your clit. You blindly reach over, feeling his short hair under your hand, nails digging into his scalp right as he puts his mouth over you and sucks. 

Paz lets out an appreciative hum as he works your pussy with his fingers and your clit with his mouth. His tongue works broad flat movements up and down your sensitive bundle of nerves while his fingers methodically push and pull at your center. You bite your lip as the sensations intensify, pulling at Paz’s hair as he continues his precise movements. 

“Please Paz— I’m gonna-,”

“Ah, so you do have manners,” he chuckles, his voice muffled by your thighs. Faintly, you register that you had said that to him the first night he broke in, that jerk. You have no idea how he manages to stay so infuriatingly calm while he breaks you down. Your mind scrambles to keep a hold of your dignity. “Unnh--- if you keep this up Viszla, I might--ah fuck- I might have to keep you around”, hips gyrating to meet his tongue.

Paz laughed, “Promises promises. I think we’re going to have a lot of fun together, if you continue to play nice,”. His mouth leaves your clit just as you’re approaching your peak and you cry out in frustration. So close. You press back into his fingers, trying to get a hold of just a little more sensation 

You hear him hastily pull down his pants and truth be told you had forgotten he was still fully dressed the entire time while you were completely naked, which somehow made this all the more obscene. You can feel the head of his cock at your entrance as he withdraws his fingers.  

“Are you ready?”, blunt head of his cock moving up and down your folds.

You whimper and nod, but he doesn’t move.

“I need you to use your words sweetheart. Do you want this?”, soft kisses pressing against your temple. 

You turn towards him, searching for his lips and in a brief moment of lucidity, you whisper “I want you Paz”. You can feel the immediate effect of your acquiesce in his sharp intake of breath. 

   “I’d give you a warning, but I think we’re past that,” he growls. Before you can ask him what he means, Paz thrusts into you with one fluid motion, slick covered fingers intertwined with yours. You gasp at the intrusion, the sensation almost overwhelming. He was much bigger than you anticipated, and the stretch instinctively made you tense up. Paz holds your hand tighter, “It’s ok, just...just relax, let your body adjust to me,”. You can hear the strain in his voice as he fights against the instinct to rut. 

As your body adjusts, he slowly pulls out part way before pushing back in, testing your limits. For a brief moment, there were no words, just your breathing as you focused on the sensation of him filling you, the warmth of his chest on yours, all tying into a wonderful feedback loop.  

“Talk to me,”.

You only have one thing to say to him.

“Harder,”. 

Paz squeezes your hand lightly, acknowledging your request before grabbing your ankles and putting them at his shoulders. 

“Remember, you asked for this,” he whispers, a dangerous edge to his voice and you think about just how easily this man could engulf you and shiver. Before you can make a smart remark, he hoists your hands above your head, holding your wrists down with one hand, and fully thrusts into you, bending you in half and hitting impossibly deeper. You couldn’t push back against him even if you wanted to, and Paz sets a brutal rhythm, the push and pull of his hips fills the air with the sound of your bodies hitting together and all you can do is wrap your legs around him and take it. 

An endless litany of half-formed phrases, come out of your lips, but each thrust knocks the air out of your lungs, so you settle for holding onto him as he threatens to overwhelm you. Above you, Paz groans as he rolls his hips into you, “I knew you’d be perfect---fuck-- knew it as soon as I saw you that night. Dig those nails into me sweetheart,” he says, releasing your hands, cutting through the haze in your mind and you obey, nails digging in to try to get some purchase on his back. “Fuck yeah that’s it, show me how much you like this,”.

You can feel his rhythm start to falter as he gets close, and you squeeze down on his cock as he pulls out. Paz sputters, “No, not yet, shit--” he says, reaching down again towards your clit, lips pressed onto yours again as he works you up higher and higher, over the edge. 

“Please, may I cum please please Paz--” you moan into his mouth. Normally, you would just take what you can get and finish, but something about Paz makes you want to ask, to be granted permission and it’s a dangerous high filling your mind, washing away any sense of shame or guilt because all you can do right now is take what he gives you. 

You can’t hear him say yes but rather feel him mouth the words against your cheek and vaguely you can hear him encouraging you as he continues the unrelenting pressure on your clit and inside your pussy. You gasp and the tension inside your body builds and builds, and you let go, letting your orgasm wash over you, arching your back, thankful for the blindfold to hide your eyes rolling back and all you can think about is how full and how good you feel stuffed with his cock inside and his fingers on your nerves. 

As you come back to reality you can hear Paz curse, “Where do you want it?” he asks roughly. 

You smile, giddy from your release, and in a moment of brilliance, you tell him “ I want it on my face...sir,”. 

Paz chokes and his body seizes up at the sound of your words and he barely pulls out in time before spilling all over you, most of it landing on your chest and neck as he finishes on top of you. You preen under him, glad that your words have their desired effect, and your head falls back to catch your breath.   

He kisses your ankles, broad hands running up and down your thighs in a soothing gesture as he also tries to regain his breath. 

“Caught me off guard there,”

You smile at him, “I can be full of surprises,”.

Paz chuckles as he presses a kiss to your cheek before reaching around for his helmet. Once it’s on, he carefully removes the scarf from your eyes, thumbs brushing over your closed eyelids before pressing your forehead to his. 

“I don’t doubt that at all.”

Taglist: @remmysbounty @starlite41

[anotheronechicagobog]

Functional Dysfunction - Rheese - Chapter 5 - It Isn’t Salad

written by @anotheronechicagobog

warnings: swearing, mention of abortion, mention of attempting to force abortion, unplanned preganancy, Connor and Robin are still together, Jimmy is still an ass, but now so is Chilli

The next day everyone was acting weird around her. Manning and Maggie were now running away from her, Halstead couldn't meet her eyes, Choi pretended to take a phone call when they were alone in the doctor's lounge, and Doris was completely silent. That never happened. She gossiped about anything and everything, until now Sarah hadn't believed there was a force on earth powerful enough to shut her up. 

A distraction came in the form of a mass casualty structural collapse at a construction site. Injured workers flooded in, while Sarah and Choi were tasked with going to the scene and treating people in the field. It was Sarah's first time working like that. So far it had only been fully stocked EDs or ORs with copious amounts of staff ready to jump into action. Here there were limited supplies, limited staff, and unlimited chaos.

So far the building they were constructing was a small five-story apartment building, it didn't have any walls or floors, it was just metal beams and underlying structure. Half of the crossbeams had just... Come off, taking the workers that were on them, towards the concrete foundation, where other workers were. It was a grizzly, awful site. There were going to be so many casualties, no doubt about it. She reached her first patient, a woman no older than twenty, whose arm was being crushed by a beam near the shoulder. It was purple. She had to amputate.

Red tag, red tag, black tag, red tag, black tag, black tag, black tag, red tag, green tag, black tag, red tag.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

She hadn’t eaten in ten hours and there were two more action-packed hours left in her shift. While she was finally back in the hospital, she couldn’t help but feel like she was still at the disaster site. One wrong move, one wrong word, and tragedy would occur. Of course at Gaffney it would be social tragedy, but still, she felt like she was navigating a mine field. She’d been on her feet non-stop since her shift started and she was feeling more mentally drained than physically drained. The other interns looked at her the way she imagined vultures would, beady eyes looking at your dying soul, ready to devour your corpse. Except... She wasn’t dying. She was in perfect health, it was apparent that they thought her career was about to be drop-kicked into an active volcano. Boy were they in for a surprise.

“Dr. Reese, scrub up, I need you in the OR with me.” Chad Dovingly, the resident “legacy” intern, almost yelled at Dr. Abrams, but Sarah watched him stop himself. “Sam-”

“Do not call me by my first name, I don’t know how many times I have to tell you that. Call me ‘Dr. Abrams’ or don’t speak to me at all.”

“Right, right, my apologies. Dr. Abrams, are you sure that Dr. Reese is the right choice? I mean, I was literally born to be a surgeon, I was in the top ten at my med school, and Dr. Reese, well... Is this because she’s pregnant-”

“Stop. Talking. You may have been in the top ten of your class, but she was the first in hers. She has shown far more dedication and skill than any of you here, and I will not stand here while you not only accuse me of favouritism, but belittle your colleague and fellow intern because of a matter that is absolutely none of your business. The reason you aren’t scrubbing in as much is that you’re not good enough to yet, so if you want to scrub in more, prove to me that you’re worthy of it, because honestly so far Dr. Reese and Dr. Kim are the only ones who have done so.” He dismissed the other interns with only a head nod, leaving the two of them alone in the hallway. “Dr. Reese, the surgery is in two hours. Read up on the procedure and eat something, then meet me in OR four.” The confusion must have been displayed on her face so he sighed and pulled her to the side away from the other interns. “Dr. Manning cornered me earlier and informed me that you’ve been on your feet all day, and you’re going to be staying late. So eat something and then join me in the OR.”

“Oh, okay, I’ll see you in two hours then.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

She had a sandwich in her bag, but she doubted that the cold cut meats would still taste good after all this time. She debated going to the cafeteria but at this time all that would be available was heavy fast food. “Sarah?”

“Hi Dr. Manning, don’t worry Dr. Abrams ordered me to eat something before I join him in the OR.”

“Good. I was actually coming to get you, we ordered pizza down in the ED and I was wondering if you wanted to join us?”

“Something tells me you’re not going to take ‘no’ for an answer.”

“A correct assumption, come on it should be here by now.”

They were almost at the doctor’s lounge when Sarah couldn’t ignore the need to ask anymore. “... You know, don’t you?”

“Yes. We all do. I’m sorry that we’ve been avoiding you all day, we just didn’t want to ruin the surprise.”

“What sur-”

“SURPRISE!” Sarah jumped out of her skin and then looked around the lounge. There was a shiny blue ‘congratulations’ banner along the back wall, streamers taped to the ceiling and a stack of pizza boxes on the table. “We want you to know that we’re here for you and that we’re happy for you. I know that you don’t have a lot of time, she needs to scrub up at OR four in... one hour and fifty-one minutes, but celebrate with us a little now, we just want to make sure that you feel supported.”

“And that you eat, no one needs you fainting in an OR.”

“Thank you, all of you, so much... I really appreciate this, I was pretty scared at first, I still am, but I’m confident in my decision.”

“Trust me, we know Sarah.” Puzzled, she looked around at her co-workers and found them all snickering in the direction of Connor and Robin. Connor blushed and lowered his head with anawkward smirk while Robin rolled her eyes. “Doris tried to talk smack and I can honestly say that I have never seen someone get verbally eviscerated so viciously. Showed all of us not to mess with Robin.” Everyone around her chuckled and seemed to unanimously agree with Maggie. “Thanks.”

“No problem, Sarah. Besides I think it was about time someone knocked her down a peg. I mean, I know that gossip is just a part of hospital life, but she just takes it to a whole other level.”

Maggie and Nat were the least tense around her since this whole thing started, Choi and Halstead just seemed relieved that there wasn’t anything wrong with her, April and Noah just seemed content to make her laugh as loud as possible, Robin made sassy quips about the two of them sticking together, and Connor just made sure she always had pizza on her plate. They exchanged a smile when he made sure that she was the first one to eat ‘I know that it’s not salad but it’s still pretty good’. Sarah couldn’t have been more delighted to see Connor moving more freely, lighter, with an enormous weight having been removed from his shoulders.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

The surgery... Did not go well, but it wasn’t anyone’s fault thankfully. Their patient had the largest tumor she’d ever seen in the centre of their brain and when Dr. Abrams removed it, it looked horrifying to be frank. There was literally a hole in this poor man’s brain which unfortunately resulted in brain damage. It was a serious risk from the beginning, so the patient and family had been informed numerous times in the days leading up to and of the surgery. Delivering that news had been assigned to Sarah and she was not looking forward to it. She left the recovery suite where the patient has just been examined after waking up and went to the waiting room where his husband was waiting along with his twin sister were after Dr. Abrams told them to wait while they examined him. “How is he?”

“He’s okay, right?”

“I am so sorry to tell you this, but he did sustain significant brain damage and it’s very likely that it’s permanent. There’s also a possibility that he could... Pass away due to the severity.” The second that the word ‘sorry’ was out of her mouth they both broke down in tears, holding onto each other for dear life. “You can see him, if you want, and I can explain a few things. Dr. Abrams will check on him again tomorrow at seven am, to give him more time to improve-”

“So, he could get better, my brother could recover.”

“I need to stress that while that is a vague possibility, it is incredibly unlikely, and I don’t want to get your hopes up. I’m so sorry.”

“... Can you take us to him? Or at least me? I totally understand if you can’t see him yet, he’s your twin, but... We- He’s the love of my life. I need to see him.” Sarah nodded and gestured for them to follow her, she wasn’t sure if his sister would at first, but she did, with a far-off, grave look in her eyes. Sarah tried not to think about it, after all, this poor woman was just told her twin brother suffered brain damage and would probably never be the same again, she was allowed to react however she needed to. Still... Sarah couldn’t help but feel like foreshadowing had taken physical form, like her patient’s sister knew more than she was saying. 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sarah had forty minutes left in her shift when alarms started blaring. She knew before she even turned around who it was and what the outcome would be. Despite being in her usual ‘crap someone’s dying’ speed her ankles felt like lead, and her soul had stayed at the computer she was working on. Her mind was still there, still searching her head for the best course of action before conducting it, giving orders to nurses, telling someone to get his loved ones out of the room, and shouting for someone to page the on-call neurosurgeon... But it was no use. And from the way everyone was looking at each other that this was the outcome they expected. “Time of death, 21:37.” Her voice felt so out of place, the vibrations her thoat made were irritating. The late patient’s fiance and sister were in the doorway. He was sobbing so inconsolably, so loud, it made Sarah’s heart clench. She however, looked numb, like a part of her just died. She looked Srah dead in the eyes and Sarah’s heart broke all over again. She’d known. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you Dr. Reese... I know that you and Dr. Abrams did everything you could. Could- could we have a moment with my brother? To say... Goodbye?”

“Of course.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When she finally left the hospital she was in tatters. She wasn’t sure if it was the pregnancy hormones or if it was her patient’s death, but all that she really wanted to do was cry. No, she needed to cry. Sadness and despair was bubbling up inside of her and she just didn’t want to keep it inside her. But of course the universe had other plans. When she finally made it to her car the last two people she wanted to see were standing beside it and sitting on it. She sighed, on the verge of tears and not in any mood to deal with either of them. “Jimmy. Chilli.”

“We need to talk.”

“We don’t actually. We really, really don’t. You don’t want to be involved and that’s fine. When they’re born we’ll do a paternity test because that’s what’s required for you to sign away your rights, and then you’ll do just that, and then you’ll walk away. It’s okay.”

“No it’s not. I’m not okay with you having my baby.”

“And I’m not okay with it either, he’s my... Boyfriend and I don’t want another chick to have his child.”

“Okay, first of all, neither of you get a say and whether or not I have this child. My body, my decision, that’s it. Second, Chilli, you have absolutely no say here in anything. You are not the mother or the father and I’m not even sure if you guys are dating given your hesitation in calling Jimmy your ‘boyfriend’ and you have such a volatile on/off relationship, you get zero say in anything even remotely related to my baby.”

“HEY! DON’T TALK TO HER LIKE THAT-”

“Speak to me like an adult or don’t speak to me at all. You don’t get to yell at me, you don’t get to use that tone with me, it’s not okay.”

“I CAN SPEAK TO YOU HOWEVER I WANT! AND YOU ARE GETTING AN ABORTION EVEN IF I HAVE TO DRAG YOU THERE MYSELF!” In the next three seconds Sarah observed three things:

There were two of them and one of her

They were in a dimly lit, poorly monitored parking garage alone

They had to deal with violent people at their jobs more than she did and would likely overpower her

“The hell she is! She made her choice Borelli and you didn’t get a say in it!” Okay, so #2 was not true apparently, as Connor walked closer to them from the entrance. “This isn’t any of your business doc, so just go, okay?”

“You’re threatening my friend in a dark parking garage. Yes, it is my business. But it isn’t yours, you’ve said that you don’t want to be a dad, so you won’t be, and I don’t even know why Chilli is here, so you two need to get off of Sarah’s car and leave her alone.”

“No. We don’t have to listen to you. I’ll talk to her however I fucking want, I don’t have to move away from her car, and Chilli doesn’t have to get off it. Fuck. Off.”

“Connor, you worked a long shift, you shouldn’t have to stay for this, I’ll figure it out.”

“I appreciate the thought Sarah, but you worked a long day too and I’m seriously worried about your safety around them. Why don’t I just drive you home? It really isn’t a big deal.”

“If you’re sure.”

“I am-”

“HEY! DON’T TALK ABOUT US LIKE WE AREN’T HERE! AND THIS ISN’T ANY OF YOUR BUSINESS!”

“Oh, go suck an egg, Borelli. Lead the way, Connor.”

“Gladly.”

They’d managed to make it to his car before the, quite honestly delusional, couple(?) realized they were seriously leaving, and Connor was pulling away with them shouting expletives and trying to chase the car on foot. “Thanks Connor, I really appreciate this.”

“Anytime Sarah, seriously. I care about you, you’ve become someone I trust and I want you to be safe and happy. I’ll help to make that happen if you ever need it.” Maybe it was the hormones, the encounter with Jimmy and Chilli, or the day just catching up with her, but she just couldn’t keep the exhaustion and gratitude out of her voice. “Thank you.”

[amintyworld]

Denial - Dream SMP SMPsona Oneshot

A/N: Hey guys! Sorry for the lack of content lately, I've been on a bit of writer's block. Anyway, this one-shot is inspired by my OC SMPsona Flower! If you'd like to see more content of her let me know and if you have questions about her character or story my ask box is open! I hope you enjoy it! - Minty

Summary: After losing her first cannon life, Flower visits Phil as she usually would for tea. She ends up finding comfort in the only true friend she has left.

TW: Major Character Death, Mention of Major Character Death, Slight blood/gore (Not too severe, just a few sentences), Betrayal (If you squint), denial, loneliness, self-blame. (LMK if I need to tag anything else!)

----------------------------

Flower grasped the basket of goodies awkwardly, taking a deep breath she wasn’t aware she needed. The other day was… it wasn’t great, but today’s a new day. A clean slate. That doesn’t mean everything was the same, however - Fundy and Quackity glared at her as she passed, and when Ranboo tried to walk up to her to say hello it was like he realized who it was and just froze in his tracks. Murmurs floating around didn’t exactly help the large pit that grew in her stomach. Traitor, they said. How could she be something she never wanted to be? She never tried to be? L’manberg was her home. These were her friends. She.. she wasn’t like Eret, or… or Wilbur. She was just defending someone who couldn’t defend himself! She was just trying to help.

Despite it all, one thing was for certain - she’d give anything for things to be normal right now. Maybe that was why it took her so long to meet up with Phil for tea.

Gathering courage, she raised her arm and knocked. For a moment she wondered if Phil was mad at her too. He didn’t see everything, maybe he thought she’d lead them there. Shuffling could be heard beyond the door, muffled with voices inside. Voices. Did he have someone over? She didn’t want to impose, he’s been through a lot, maybe she should just-

When Philza finally opened the door, blonde hair framing his face perfectly with that same tired warm smile, she’d tensed up. “Hey, Flower.”

“Hi, Phil.” She swallowed, mustering a small smile. “Sorry I didn’t come by earlier, I was, uhm… busy.” She heard a distinct ‘Baa’ come from inside, which proved to only raise more questions to add to her ever-growing list. “Is this a bad time?”

“No, no no please.” Phil moved aside, holding the door open. “It’s been quite a while.”

Flower walked inside, her heart dropping in her chest seeing materials scattered all over the floor, chests busted and broken. The walls and floor were littered with axe and sword marks. They really weren’t kidding. She remembered only a few weeks ago Phil finally was fully moved in - he’d organized the chests to his satisfaction and somehow lugged his bed up to the second floor. It was pristine. Did… did they really-? “Phil… Phil, what…?”

“Sorry for the mess, everytime I think I’ve gathered it all I find more material in a corner somewhere.” He shrugged, moving toward the furnace and grabbing a kettle from the chest. A lump formed in her throat when she noticed the bulky and seemingly heavy ankle bracelet on his right foot. The blinking red light taunted her. “Can I get you some coffee, tea…?”

After what felt like forever, she found her voice again. “Some tea would be great.”

“Of course. Make yourself at home, I’ll be right over.”

“Right. Thanks.” As she moved to go sit, she’d been so distracted she hadn’t noticed a blue-wooled sheep sniffing around her basket. It looked up at her with big brown pleading puppy-dog eyes, and she couldn’t help herself from smiling at the creature, even to relieve her worries for just a moment. “Excuse me, little guy, but what exactly do you think you’re doing in there?”

“Ah, I see you’ve found Friend.”

“Friend?”

“Ghostbur’s pet.” Ghostbur? She hadn’t heard of him since he got shipped out with Tommy after the exile. He was... back in L’manburg? The teenager turned to the winged creature.

“Phil, you’re sheepsitting?” She smirked slightly, hand combing through Friend’s soft fur.

Philza chuckled, turning briefly to face his friend. “It wasn’t exactly as if I had much of a choice. He didn’t trust anyone else.”

“That’s… kinda cute, though.” she admitted, moving to sit and put her basket upon the table. “You know, in a Ghostbur kind of way.” She shrugged.

“He’s been visiting a lot more lately. I gotta admit, it’s nice to have the company.” Phil carefully picked up the two mugs, bringing them over and setting them down on the table to cool.

“Sorry about that, I really should’ve told you-”

“Flower, it’s okay. You don’t have to look after me. I know you’ve got things going on.” Flower couldn’t understand how Phil kept smiling, throughout all this. How he kept his voice even. Why wasn’t he mad, no, furious with her?! She was the one who tried to protect him! She was the one who couldn’t fight back. She was the one who failed.

It’s… it’s okay..? It’s okay?!

“But this… your house, you… you have a fucking ankle monitor, Phil! That’s NOT okay.” Flower raised her voice. “You didn’t do anything!”

Phil winced at her outburst, looking down at the steam rising up from his mug. “I... didn’t tell them where Technoblade was.” He breathed. Flower deflated, looking over toward her friend, eyebrows furrowed. “That’s why. They demanded to know where he was so they could kill him, and I wouldn’t tell them. Not like it mattered, they found the compass he gave me anyway.”

“This isn’t like them, any of them,” Flower added, breaking the brief moment of silence. “I don’t... agree with what Techno did, but… going after him, organizing a witch hunt… Tubbo said he promised we’d get peace. No more fighting, not after the 16th.” Tears welled up at the edges of the teen’s eyes. “This isn’t, this wasn’t like him. They were never this violent, Ranboo would never hurt a fucking fly, I…”

��People change. Sometimes it’s… it’s just not for the better.”

“But I know them, they’re my friends…” She took a deep breath. Friends. Yeah, the same friends who won’t talk to you anymore. “This doesn’t make any sense, they wouldn’t… they wouldn’t…”

They wouldn’t kill me on purpose.

...Right?

“I told you, get out of the fucking way!”

“No! I won’t let you hurt him! If you’re gonna kill him you’ll have to kill me first!”

“We don’t want to hurt you, Flower.”

“Guys, can we just… uh… talk about-?”

“Back off, Ranboo.” Quackity warned.

“Flower, please. Please, just step aside. You don’t know what’s going on here, you don’t know what he’s hiding!”

“Yeah, you’re right, Tubbo. I don’t have a clue about what Phil knows. But I know netherite has never mixed well with a simple conversation, has it?”

“We’re not gonna hurt Gramps-”

“Then drop the weapons.”

“Flower…”

“You don’t wanna hurt me? You wanna talk to him? Drop the weapons now.” Her eyes narrowed. “That means you, Quackity.”

Something darkened in his eyes, anger flared from a place Flower never knew existed. His eyes narrowed. “I don’t take orders from you. MOVE!”

“Make me.”

It was so quick. A second of pure pain. A whimper escaped her lips. She felt the blade slice through her body, the blood well up on her throat as she choked. For that one second, she looked at them. Her friends.

Tubbo merely looked at the ground, eyes shut.

He didn’t care.

Phil looked over at her, squeezing her arm in a bit of comfort. “Are you… are you okay, Flower?”

The scar across her chest throbbed in pain at the memory, her eyes wide and a knot in her throat as tears fell down her cheeks. “I… P-Phil...” She sobbed, tea long forgotten as she curled in on herself.

“Oh, mate…” Phil’s warm gaze turned to sympathy as he moved over toward her, wrapping her in a tight hug pulling her to the floor. The teenager sobbed, heartbroken. Tears pricked at the edges of the winged creature’s eyes. “I know… I’m… I know…”

“He didn’t even look at me Phil… they killed me and he…” She sobbed. “He…” Phil’s hands laced through her hair, his wings moved slightly to wrap around her as well, like a soft, warm blanket. Protection. Protection the Angel of Death couldn’t give her then, but he swore he would now. They sat there for hours, surrounded by destruction and hurt, their only real comfort being each other.

-----------------------------

General Writing Taglist (Let me know if you'd like to be added/removed!):

@bones-sprouts

@foolishcaptains

[darklydeliciousdesires]

From Blood, Love and Courage - Chapter Eighteen.

A huge thank you to everyone for your continued interest. 25 notes needed to unlock the next chapter, as usual :)

Previous chapters - One  Two  Three  Four  Five  Six  Seven  Eight  Nine  Ten  Eleven  Twelve  Thirteen  Fourteen  Fifteen  Sixteen  Seventeen

Words - 4,355

Tag list - In the comments, please message to be added/removed

Warnings - 18+ content throughout, minors DNI!

Once they’d arrived home, they took a long shower together before coming back out to spend some time with Charlie, the bird hopping up and down Angel’s legs, playing with the tie on the front of his dark grey sweats.  

“Hey, you stop that! Don’t you be getting that beak near my junk, bro!” Leaning forward, he grabbed the baby teething rings from the coffee table, ones that looked like a set of chunky, brightly coloured keys, Charlie pacified immediately. “What are you looking at, baby?” Leaning over, he saw Lily searching through Instagram, looking for a certain person in particular.  

“I know which area he lives, he’s in San Francisco. I’m just not exactly sure where,” she told him, turning the screen of her phone to reveal Johnny’s Instagram account.  

“I can find that out for you, we have people who we rely on for that kind of information. I’ll have an address by tomorrow.”  

“Ahh, fucking fuck!” she suddenly cried, closing her eyes with a sigh. “Look at this.” Clicking on a post, the view from the aeroplane window, she handed her phone to Angel, who read the accompanying text.  

‘Dreams come true if you trust and believe! Currently in the air on the way to Thailand for nine weeks, to train with my good buddies at @tigertigermuaythai. Stoked beyond words! See ya later, California!’

The post was from four days ago, meaning he’d be out there for a while.  

“Well, this means we can plan what to do,” he began, crossing his legs, reaching to stroke Lily’s thigh. “I propose that me and a couple of the guys go watch his movements, do what we did tonight, bring him back to the club and let you do to him what I did earlier. Or whatever you want. It’s all up to you.”

“He’s out there in another country now, free to do this to whatever other woman. He obviously thinks it’s justifiable. What if another girl pisses him off and he does the same, or no! What if he’s a fucking date rapist too. All those girls out there on vacation he’ll have access to. God damnit, it makes me so angry!”

Scrolling through his Instagram, she began to get a good measure of him, even more so when she found, and thusly spent time viewing his Twitter feed. “Oh my god! Look at this! He’s fucking defending Trump over his comments towards women!” The more she read, the more she learned of the man she knew virtually nothing about before; he was a clear misogynist. So that’s why he’d jumped at the chance to fight her, he likely thought such would be easy, his own chauvinistic confidence dictating clearly to him that he could know her flat, as a superior male.  

All the evidence was there of a clearly superior attitude. Apart from more than a mere smattering of pro-Trump propaganda, there were a number of tweets containing material where Johnny weighed in on his thoughts over abortion and body autonomy (‘it’s a woman’s responsibility not to use abortion as a contraceptive’ he had stated) over slut shaming (‘women in itty bitty clothes are asking for any kind of attention they can get’) and the debate over equal pay (‘women aren’t equal, their salaries should reflect this’) along with a whole host of other unsavoury comments that had the couple quietly fuming.

“Did Larry not know any of this prior to putting you in an octagon with him?” Angel commented, after they’d scrolled and read through a few of those posts. “That’s nothing against Larry either, I wanna add. I’m just wondering.”

Lily closed the window on her phone, shaking her head. “We don’t tend to look at online presences, it’s all what we do in training or in the octagon itself.” She sat thoughtfully for a few moments, chewing her thumb, turning to him suddenly. “I really can’t discount that he hasn’t done this before.”

His eyebrows raised, nodding. “I think that’s a fair enough opinion to have. I mean, what kind of fucking woman hating, twisted up mind just goes to rape and battery like that? And not just on a whim; the guy fucking planned it all meticulously, obviously had your movements tracked, knew there were nights you walked down to the yard alone. He spent months with it festering in him. Hell yeah, I’m with you, mamas. I think he has.”  

Getting up, Lily went to the bar, picking up the bottle of vodka and swigging from it directly. “I know it’s a weird thing to say,” Angel began, viewing her sip back another mouthful, “but I feel like tonight, a little of the old Lily came back. The fucking badass fighter I fell in love with, the one I thought was gonna swing at me when I first saw her. I know you still got a lot of shit to process, but it was good, to see a little of the old you return. Probably feels anything but good for you, though, learning what you did tonight.”

She placed the bottle down, moving back to sit down next to him. “I felt better for watching that man die. Watching you do as you always promised you would, now knowing he can never do it to another woman ever again. The fury of knowing that it was someone within my world, not playing by our rules brought a little of the old me back, but I feel no better for her return.”

Of course, she wouldn’t. He’d acknowledged that, too, but felt a little dumb for speaking it, his mouth twisting as he looked down. “Hey, what’s this face for?”

“Ahh, nothing.” He waved it away, reaching to pet Charlie, still busy with his keys. “I just feel stupid for saying it was good to see you looking more like your old self, and you’re buggin’ out with anger. It was ridiculous.”

She snorted softly, leaning to kiss his cheek. “No, it wasn’t. I’ve been someone else for the past two months nearly. I might be letting in room for anger now, and still not quite one hundred percent myself, but you were right. A little of the old me came back tonight. Now, a little of the old me has a pressing question for you, because now I’m feeling more confident at being around people again, I want us to resume the house hunt. I’ll need something to throw myself into, rather than sit and stew over Johnny fucking Boswell, and I’m tired of throwing money at an apartment I’m not gonna go back to.”

She’d only returned to collect more belongings from her place a few times since it had happened, of course not wanting to be on her own. She still didn’t like it, but she was adjusting. Her living circumstances, though, she was very content with. Angel was a great guy to cohabit with. Mainly because he was actually very neat and cleanly, he couldn’t abide mess or dirt. He was a great improvement on her last ex, who left crumbs everywhere, dirt rings around the tub and laundry all over the floor.

“Alright, let’s do this.” He grabbed his phone from the coffee table, softly scolding Charlie when he made a beeline to bite his pendant as he so often did, the bird scuttling up his bare chest and lying down to snuggle, Angel stroking his head as they looked through houses. Of course, all the ones they’d had to cancel appointments to view after Lily’s attack had been rented out by then, but a fresh crop of homes had been added, the pair finding three they liked the look of, Angel emailing the agents to express their interest in viewing them.  

Once done, they stayed awake talking for a little longer, Lily fetching him a beer while she made herself a hot chocolate (being berated for using his favourite mug, the huge one he drank his morning coffee out of that he was always afraid she’d accidentally break) sitting up talking before heading to bed.  

“You know, I meant to tell you this earlier.” She rested her head on her chest, comfortable under the blankets with him, the night unusually a little chilly for Santo Padre and its ever-present heat. “The sight of you, all sweaty and covered in blood, it did something quite pleasant to me, you know.”

He was immediately interested by such a statement. “Oh, it did, huh?”  

“Mmm, yes. It made me actually feel desire, for the first time since... yeah. Since that night.”

He couldn’t deny, he liked where this was heading. “And is that something I can help you with?”

She kissed his chest, her hands curling around him to stroke his back. “I think it is.”

“Okay, but there’ll be conditions.” He lifted her chin, kissing the tip of her nose. “We take it slow, and if you even so much as freak out a tiny bit, brakes are on and we stop. I don’t want you rushing yourself into anything if you’re not ready.”  

“I’m ready,” she confirmed, nuzzling him. “Because despite the fact that I might still feel a little fear, there’s something else I need in order to keep on healing from it all. I need the last man inside me to be you again, and not them.”  

He nodded, kissing her, holding her to him as they stroked one another, having very, very strong words with himself. ‘You will hold yourself back, you will NOT go into this like a fucking raging bull.’ He knew he’d struggle with it, such was his overwhelming lust and longing for Lily, but this was not about him or his needs. This was all about her becoming reacquainted with physical intimacy, and he would respect that at every step, if it was the last thing he did.  

Remembering her reaction the previous morning to his erection bumping against her, he felt a little trepidation when his cock began to stir, almost wanting to will it to stay the hell down for as long as possible, shifting his hips back a little as their kisses heated up. Lily felt him pull back slightly, correctly guessing why as she began to stroke his chest, fingernails circling at his nipples until the stood pebbled, her nerves bubbling up in her chest as her hand travelled lower, stroking his abs.  

‘Come on, you used to be such a sexual creature before all of this, and it’s him, it’s Angel. He’s not going to hurt you. Be brave, girly. Be brave and just touch him.’ The feel of anticipation cording through him, his defined chest falling and rising a little faster as his breathing quickened guided her on, like his body was a map, taking her back again to a place she knew, a location she felt at ease within, her hand lowering until she felt his cock against her fingertips, big, rigid and gorgeous.  

Before her brain had chance to rewind to any traumatic memory of what the feel of an erection triggered within her, the groan that poured from his mouth to hers as they shared syrupy kisses edged in embers and honey shook her back to him. The two paths that existed within her forked, the one leading to trauma and the one to sexual pleasure, Angel's response pulling her back toward the correct one. Her hand reached beneath the waistband of his boxers, curling around him, feeling his hips stutter forward, another groan pooling in his throat as she tightened her hand.  

“Oh my god.” He whispered, overcome at the feel of her thumb circling over the tip of his cock, a little slick of precum wetting it, his heart thudding wildly as her mouth moved to his neck, wanting to touch her in return, but suddenly feeling nerves over doing such. Did he just lie there and let her get comfortable playing with him, would his own returned explorations of her be too much for her to process all at once?  

He didn’t know, all he knew was to feel her hand on him again made him feel like he had a monsoon whirling through his loins, his breathing ragged as she gently tugged at his shaft, blazing fire burning behind his closed eyelids. Fuck, he’d missed her. His abs twitched and his jaw tensed and relaxed as her grip travelled the length of him, thumb swirling at the head, descending again, a sharply drawn breath hitting her deep inside, something sparkling in remembrance at hearing, feeling his arousal, a hollow ache yearning for him to fill it.  

God, it was good. A little too good for Angel, though.

Catching her wrist, he halted her, his eyes a burning sea of dark fire as he looked down at her. “Yeah, you’re gonna make me cum if you carry on.”

“Already?” she exclaimed softly, Angel nodding a little bashfully, cringing slightly.

“Mmhmm. I missed you like fuck. But, if you’re okay with it, ain’t nothing stopping me from playing with you.” She bit her lip, her smile widening, her perfect, full lips curling before she pressed them against his, their hot kisses resuming, Angel’s hand reaching around her, stroking her back before flicking her bra clasp undone. He pulled it from her, Lily stopping to assist when her hair tangled in the strap slightly, muttering about needing a haircut. “Nooo, don’t you dare cut it!” he chuckled, hands gliding through her tresses, the feel of her naked breasts against him absolutely celestial.  

He turned her onto her back, but his body didn’t follow, wanting her to guide him there herself when she felt ready, edging down the bed slightly as he let his mouth glide in a sumptuous, slow tour of her neck. That mouth then took familiar paths over her chest, following the hands that lead the way, cupping her breasts and squeezing gently as his tongue tasted at the cavern between. She arched against him, a feeling like warm honey trickling through her insides at the heat of his mouth closing over her nipple, a soft whine skimming over her lips, the sound making his insides throb.  

She was enjoying it, she was relaxed. Well, so far, but he was scared of any other reaction she might have, hesitant to move south of her waist and test that. She transmitted her need in her movements, though, turning back onto her side, pulling his face level to hers and kissing him with a wanton moan, her leg resting over his hip, his cock skimming where she was becoming needy and soaked, Lily marvelling, breathing a sigh of relief that her body still remembered, still responded. It wasn’t frightened, it was readying itself, doing as it should, not scared into submission.  

Her reaction the previous morning, she deduced, was likely because of still being half asleep, startled suddenly, because now, there was no fear of him in an aroused state, only longing. She transmitted that to him, although Angel kept himself firmly in check, his hand slowly drifting down between their bodies, giving her plenty of opportunity to halt him, a shuddered gasp, almost hiccup like in sound fluttering from her throat as his fingers stroked over the damp fabric of her underwear, and she felt herself glimmer. A true, lustful glimmer of want.  

They back and forth exchange of kisses paused, Lily breaking her mouth from his to stare at him, his eyes almost black from the width of his pupils, her hands stroking his face, reaching for his shoulders and pulling him atop her as she turned. For a brief second, the weight of a male body atop her made something freeze, just for the briefest of seconds, until his mouth at her neck and whispered words ‘I love you so much’ thawed that chill, her legs winding around him, feeling his hardness pressed to her fully, her fingers gliding down his muscular back.  

His kisses descended her again, hands curling around the side of her underwear and pulling them down her thighs, reading her yearning, her body rocking up in a soft rise as she felt him press hot, open-mouthed kisses over her stomach, the muscles beneath bouncing, his hands gently pushing her legs apart, tongue skimming over her hipbone. He caught the scent of her arousal, his cock throbbing, mouth-watering ever so slightly from the memory alone of having her in his mouth, Lily’s breath catching on a soft moan as he kissed her softly from the dip of her hip to her bare pubic bound.  

He knew she was eager, but still, he paused, looking up at her, his eyes asking permission, her nod preceding his tongue to delve against her, her thighs shuddering so violently, he did have to wonder.

“Okay?” he questioned, kissing the inside of her thigh in pause. She nodded rapidly, her thighs falling further open, the heat of his mouth returning to her driving a small whine of bliss as she felt his tongue trawl slowly through her folds, dragging a circle over her clit before dipping to her entrance, pushing gently, a grunt echoing his throat to taste how wet she was, dragging those streams of warm nectar back to her clit, her fingers teasing through his dark hair as she keened against him with a soft groan.  

With the touch of his mouth, he had turned the place she feared to even touch for weeks, a place of violation, of cold dirtiness and traumatic, razor-edged agony back into a place of warm sublimity, of sacred intimacy, of something she wanted to feel connected to again, as each lick had warm wells of pleasure seeping through her once more. She reached for him, hands smoothing down his solid, bulky arms before returning to his hair, her hips swaying a little as the beat of his tongue drove the coil within her to tighten sharply, her breath hitching in her throat when he sucked on her bud, cheeks hollowing, dark eyes finding hers, winking at her.

Releasing her with a gloopy pop, the tip of his tongue circled at her again, slowly, evoking tingles, her hips shuddering. “You enjoying yourself up there, carina?”

She hummed a moan, smiling. “Very much.”

He laid a soft kiss upon her clit, stroking through the soaking mess of her folds with his thumb, tongue circling her inner thigh. “That’s what I like to hear.” He felt honoured by her reaction, by her bravery to allow him to do this for her, be so close to the place upon her where she’d been so physically traumatised. His admiration for her grew with every passing moment. Some women, he wagered, perhaps wouldn’t be brave enough to allow their lover back for a long, long time, and he was so proud of Lily that she’d gotten there.  

Returning his mouth to her, each lick made magma burn through her veins, pleasure skittering through her as a mist of heat ascended her spine, his hands stroking her inner thighs before he brought one to join his mouth, his middle finger gently circling at her opening. He tested, teasing her a little, giving her plenty of chance to tell him no before slowly, he slid it within her.  

“Is that okay?”  

She was bowled over by his respect towards her, her body, checking with her at every step that was he was doing was acceptable to her. She loved him even more in that moment than she ever had. “Yes, it’s amazing.” she panted, the curl of his finger within her to stroke at her g spot beyond sublime. She closed her eyes, her back arching, a second finger pushing within her, her wail of bliss an absolute feast of beauty for his ears, stroking her walls with a deft glide, laying wet heat over her clit with the flat of his tongue as he did.  

He felt her virtually melting around his fingers, the hot current of her arousal making his cock throb, moaning around a mouthful of her as he sucked at her once again, Lily in absolute ecstasy as she cried out, reaching for his arms, pulling him up.  

“I need you. I need you right now.” He obliged her, kissing her from her navel to her chest, tongue finding her nipples again and sucking them in turn as his hands bracketed her ribs, sliding down sensuously, his cock nudging at the slick pool, finding its way into her with an effortless glide. Everything was going beautifully, until that moment, the feel of herself stretching around him, her mind flashing back to the alleyway, that first intrusion, her entire body going rigid. He backed off immediately.  

“Hey, it’s okay. We don’t have to...” he fumbled for the words, eyes searching hers as he rested his weight on his forearms and knees, stroking her face. “It’s alright if you’re not ready for anything else.”  

“No, I am. I meant what I said, about you being the last man to be inside me. I need that, I need you, Angel,” she assured him, smiling, stroking his face. He shook his head, though.

“Not if it means you’re doing this with fear.”  

She sat up beneath him a little, her lips finding his, her hand reaching between them to guide him back to her centre. “I need you, Angel. I need to take back this part of me, so it isn’t theirs any longer.” His cock twitched as she positioning him at her dewy opening, nodding, kissing her as he once again pushed into her, Lily gasping as she was filled... and then there he was. The last man inside of her was the one she loved. The one who would always be welcome there.

Although she knew she could never hit the erase button on what had happened to her, she thought to herself that this wasn’t erasing, it was taping over, replacing what existed with something else, something that had existed before, winding her arms around him as he bottomed out and slid back again, the silky spear of his return evoking a soft cry.  

God, he felt so good.  

Exchanging soft kisses as they stroked one another, Lily felt truly overcome by the moment, by him, his staggering patience and gentleness with her, panting softly against his mouth as their tongues entwined. Every vein and ridge of his cock felt amazing as it cut through her soaking core, Lily nuzzling him as she moaned, moving her mouth to kiss his neck, her nails making a herd of goosepimples follow their trail as they dragged down his back.  

It was just her and him, lost in sensual longing, her body lit up once more, the light and beauty of a billion stars rushing through her, his body pressed to hers, smooth, brown skin crushed against her pale flesh, the designs of their tattoos merging together as they entwined with each other.

Her hands grasped at his butt, pulling him against her. “Faster.” she urged, and he responded, driving into her hard, allowing his need to take over now she had given the permission he needed to hear from her first. “Fuck!” she cursed, his teeth nipping her neck. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” The words left her like a mantra, overcome, burning with pleasure at the stretching of her soft cunt around his hard, wide girth.  

“I love you, I love you, I love you.” He chanted, holding her face in his hands, kissing her eyelids, her nose, her cheeks, her lips, his mouth coming to kiss her throat as they rocked together in the most magmatic, loving union either had ever experienced.  

She was blinded by the passion of him, such raw sensuality, her legs gripped tightly at his sides, her hands touring the chiselled muscles of his back. It was a moment like no other they had ever shared, Angel encompassing her like a cyclone, wrapping her up until all that existed in her world was him, them, that moment of pure, unfiltered, loving sex.

And to think, she had once feared that it would never return to her, that she would never have the ability to once again resume this side of her life with the man who pawed at her with hunger, who rained kisses upon her throat like a hailstorm, his hands reaching beneath her body, gripping her butt, holding her for a second to drive into her sharply before his clench relaxed, but the motions of his hips daggering into her did nothing but escalate.  

She was lost to him entirely, little pricks of pleasure melting down her spine as his fingers glided beneath her, over her bones and back around to knead her breasts, his mouth sucking each nipple diligently in turn. He chased each sinful throb around his cock with a harder thrust, intruding into her so deeply, he truly felt one with her. Where he ended and she began was now a map unchartered.  

He had her breathless, glimmering, her back arching off the bed as he moved to his knees and pulled her up with him, his hands gliding over her flesh as he bounced her on every last thick, hot inch of his cock, her nails dragging down his back as their shared heated kissed full of need. Lightning began to strike at the base of her spine, ecstasy fizzing through her bones, right through to the very marrow of her as she felt herself teetering, reaching the precipice.  

Her thighs trembled, squeezing against his hips, feeling him charging to the same destination, until it was upon them both, a fiery tempest, sweeping them both up as the tingles of release erupted, dragging them under, yet neither had ever ascended with such height before. It was chaotic, steeped in magmatic heat, leaving them breathless, quivering, utterly undone and boneless in the wake of such calamity as they fought to breathe.  

Resting her forehead to his shoulder, she felt whole again. In the garden of Angel’s bed, Lily had bloomed. And there wasn’t a thorn in sight.  

[prrplwtch]

Fic Masterlist

Thanks to the “masterlist” nonnie for giving me an idea to make one. I tagged all my fics with “my writing”, so searching for that tag could be helpful. For list of headcanons see here. 

Fics that have NSFW content are marked with *

Lucifer 

“C-Call me that again.” Lucifer x f!MC

“Missing you.” * Lucifer x f!MC

“Have you never seen a bra before?” Lucifer x f!MC

“I warned you about him, yet again you didn’t listen.” Lucifer x f!MC

“Please don’t be scared of me” Lucifer x f!MC

“Last night in Devildom” * Lucifer x f!MC

“Everyone keeps telling me you’re the bad guy.” Lucifer x f!MC

“Trust.” Lucifer x f!MC

“How could you think this wouldn’t hurt me?” Lucifer x f!MC

“Were you masturbating?” * Lucifer x f!MC

“Cage” Diavolo x f!MC, Lucifer x f!MC, Diavolo x f!MC x Lucifer.

“You make me want things that I can’t have.” Lucifer x f!MC

One person stopping a kiss to ask “Do you want to do this?”, only to have the other person answer with a deeper, more passionate kiss. A kiss, followed by more that trail down the jaw and neck. Lucifer x f!MC

Kisses exchanged while one person sits on the other’s lap. Lucifer x f!MC

A breathy demand: “Kiss me” - and what the other person does to respond. Lucifer x f!MC

“Do you mind if we stay like this a little longer.” Lucifer x f!MC

A hello/good-bye kiss that is given without thinking - where neither person thinks twice about it. Lucifer x f!MC

“I wish I could hate you.” Lucifer x f!MC

“After everything we’ve been through, you still don’t think that I love you?” “You deserve someone better” “When I said I loved you I meant it.” Lucifer x f!MC.

“Under your breath while the whole house sleeps, just before you have to leave for the day. More for yourself than for them.” Lucifer x f!MC

“It’s late. Shouldn’t you be asleep?” & “Distracting kisses from someone that are meant to stop the other person from finishing their work, and give them kisses instead.” Lucifer x f!MC

“You’ve shown me what love can feel like.” Lucifer x f!MC

“You make me feel safe.” Lucifer x f!MC

Assorted 5 sentence drabbles

Theater. f!Astaroth x f!MC, OM boys x f!MC

Tempted. Lucifer x f!MC. 

Mammon 

“The worst” * Mammon x f!MC (one-sided), Asmo x MC

“Comfort” Mammon x f!MC

“Bored” * Mammon x f!MC

“Have you never seen a bra before?” Mammon x f!MC

“Last night in Devildom” * Mammon x f!MC

“Burden” * Mammon x f!MC

“You are so fucking hot when you are mad.” “Once we start, I might not be able to stop” * Mammon x f!MC

“It’s three in the morning.” & “I’m only here to establish an alibi.” Mammon x f!MC

Pulling away from a kiss, whispering words of love against each other’s lips. Mammon x f!MC

Tucking their hands beneath the other person’s shirt, just to watch them break the kiss and gasp in surprise at the sensation of cold/warm hands on their skin. Mammon x f!MC

A kiss so passionate, so perfect - that after they part, neither person can open their eyes for a few moments afterwards. Mammon x f!MC

One person pouting, only to have it removed by a kiss from the other person. Mammon x f!MC

Wild, breathless kisses brought on by a heartfelt gift. Mammon x f!MC

“I’ve never been in a relationship before, so I don’t really know how to do the whole…kissing thing.” Mammon x f!MC

“You are getting me all worked up.” * Mammon x f!MC

“I just told you I liked you but now I’m shy and say “never mind, forget it” and why are you looking at me like that?” Mammon x f!MC

“Can we please pretend I’ve never said that?” * Mammon x f!MC

“How much of that did you hear?” Mammon x f!MC

“Shh… it was just a nightmare” & “No one’s ever done this to me before” &  “Do you mind if we stay like this a little longer” Mammon x f!MC

Assorted 5 sentence drabbles

Theater. f!Astaroth x f!MC, OM boys x f!MC

“Mamihlapinatapei - The look between two people in which each loves the other but is too afraid to make the first move.” Mammon x f!MC

Leviathan

“I love you more than Ruri-chan.” “I think I’m in love with you and I don’t know what to do.” Leviathan x f!MC

Whispering “I love you” before a chaste, delicate kiss. Leviathan x f!MC

An accidental brush of lips followed by a pause and going back for another, on purpose. Leviathan x f!MC

“Have you never seen a bra before?” Leviathan x f!MC

“I’ve never been in a relationship before, so I don’t really know how to do the whole…kissing thing.” Leviathan x f!MC

“Wild, breathless kisses brought on by a heartfelt gift.” Levi x f!MC

Assorted 5 sentence drabbles

Theater. f!Astaroth x f!MC, OM boys x f!MC

“Thank you.” Levi x f!MC

Satan 

“Do you want me to leave?” Satan x f!MC

“Have you never seen a bra before?” Satan x f!MC

“Last night in Devildom” * Satan x f!MC

“You are a bit too defenseless. Someone might take advantage.” Satan x f!MC

“Who did this?” “You are safe now.” Satan x f!MC

“You are so fucking hot when you are mad.” * Satan x f!MC

“You are not going out in that outfit.” * Satan x f!MC

“It’s three in the morning.” Satan x f!MC

“Sometimes, being a complete nerd comes in handy.” Satan x f!MC

A kiss that tastes of the food/dessert they are eating. Satan x f!MC

Kisses exchanged as they move around, hitting the edges of tables or nearly tripping over things on the floor before making it to the sofa, or bed. Satan x f!MC

A gentle kiss that quickly descends into passion, with little regard for what’s going on around them. Satan x f!MC

Staring at each other’s lips for a moment before moving closer, as if drawn together by some unseen force. Satan x f!MC

Kissing tears from the other’s face. Satan x f!MC

An accidental brush of lips followed by a pause and going back for another, on purpose. Satan x f!MC

One person has to bend down in order to kiss their partner, who is standing on their tip-toes to reach their partner’s. Satan x f!MC

“Be mine. Please.” Satan x f!MC

“We slept in the same bed for space reasons but now we’re just waking up and there’s something about your bleary eyes and mussed hair” Satan x f!MC

“Wrapped up in a question. How’s your day been, have you eaten, you know you can tell me anything, right? You know you can tell them anything. Right?” Satan x f!MC.

“Forest love.” * Satan x f!MC

“Don’t be nervous, you can come closer” & “Carry me up to bed?” Satan x f!MC

“You look amazing tonight.” & “What happens if I do this?” Satan x f!MC

“You were my first kiss.” Satan x f!MC

“Wait don’t pull away I want to hug you for longer.” Satan x f!MC

“Heated kisses with gasps in between, hands tugging at clothes and exploring skin, bodies pressed close. Giving in.” Satan x f!MC

“Morning kisses; gentle and lazy, humming in contentment, limbs still tangled together, hands wandering over soft exposed skin” Satan x f!MC

“You sure can’t keep your hands to yourself…” & “Can you zip up my dress for me?” Satan x f!MC

Morning after. Satan x f!MC

Jealous. Solomon x f!MC, Satan x f!MC

Assorted 5 sentence drabbles

Theater. f!Astaroth x f!MC, OM boys x f!MC

“Mamihlapinatapei - The look between two people in which each loves the other but is too afraid to make the first move.” Satan x f!MC

Asmo 

“The worst” * Mammon x f!MC (one-sided), Asmo x MC

“Please don’t be scared of me” Asmo x f!MC

“Currently I’m flirting with death” Asmo x f!MC, Asmo x Death

“Last night in Devildom” * Asmo x f!MC

“Are you still awake?” Asmo x m!MC

“You’re more than just a one-night stand.” “I’m gonna fuck you so hard that you forget you ever met that asshole.”  * Asmodeus x f!MC

“A thing.” Solomon x f!MC x Asmodeus

An accidental brush of lips followed by a pause and going back for another, on purpose. Asmodeus x f!MC

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to seduce me.” “That’s almost exact opposite of what I meant.” Asmodeus x f!MC

Throwing their arms around the other person’s neck, hugging them close before kissing them passionately on the lips. Asmodeus x f!MC

“This wasn’t meant to be a date, but we’ve had such a good time and now it’s 2 a.m. and I should really go home…” Asmo x f!MC

“We agreed this was just physical.” Asmo x f!MC, f!MC x ???

“Sticky ice cream kisses, sitting on a bench in the park and laughing against each other’s lips.” Asmodeus x f!MC

Assorted 5 sentence drabbles

Theater. f!Astaroth x f!MC, OM boys x f!MC

“I wonder what your boyfriend would say if he knew what you were doing right now.” Solomon x f!MC x Asmodeus.

Beel 

“Take my jacket. It’s cold” Beel x f!MC

“Please don’t be scared of me” Beel x f!MC

“Last night in Devildom” * Beel x f!MC

“Please, remind me again, why are we having sex behind a tree” * Beel x f!MC

Kisses exchanged as they move around, hitting the edges of tables or nearly tripping over things on the floor before making it to the sofa, or bed. Beel x f!MC

Sneaking away to a hidden corner to share a secretive kiss. Beel x f!MC

One person has to bend down in order to kiss their partner, who is standing on their tip-toes to reach their partner’s. Beel x f!MC

“I think you’ll be happy to know that I’m not wearing any underwear.” * Beelzebub x f!MC

The best cake. Beelzebub x f!MC

Assorted 5 sentence drabbles

Theater. f!Astaroth x f!MC, OM boys x f!MC

Belphie 

“Sorry does me showing too much skin offend you?” Belphie x f!MC.

“My heart isn’t beating faster, my heart isn’t beating faster. I swear it isn’t. Get ahold of yourself.” Belphie x f!MC 

“Last night in Devildom” * Belphie x f!MC

“I’m gonna fuck you so hard you’ll forget you ever even met that asshole.” * Belphegor x f!MC

“Were you touching yourself?” “Saddle up doll.” * Belphegor x f!MC

Staring at each other’s lips for a moment before moving closer, as if drawn together by some unseen force. Belphegor x f!MC

A breathy demand: “Kiss me” - and what the other person does to respond. Belphegor x f!MC

“Don’t pretend like you’re asleep. Should I find a way to wake you up?” * Belphegor x f!MC

“I have had nightmares every night for the past three weeks and now they’re gone because of you, how did you do that?” Belphie x f!MC

Assorted 5 sentence drabbles

Theater. f!Astaroth x f!MC, OM boys x f!MC

Solomon 

“Go ahead. Underestimate me. That’ll be fun.” “I think I may be slightly more drunk than I thought.” * Solomon x f!MC

“I think I’m in love with you and I don’t know what to do.” “Don’t look at me like that and then feign innocence.”  * Solomon x f!MC

“Is that blood?” “Is that my shirt?” Solomon x f!MC

“I’m asking because I’ve seen the way you look at me.” “Are you going to kiss me or keep staring.” Solomon x f!MC

“Don’t ruin the sofa.” “I’ll just have to come inside you then.” * Solomon x f!MC

“Try to stay quiet, understand?” * Solomon x f!MC

“We’re in public, you know.” “Try to stay quiet, understand?” * Solomon x f!MC

“We can’t do this here!” “If you don’t like my teasing then why are you moaning?” * Solomon x f!MC

“A thing.” Solomon x f!MC x Asmodeus

Kisses exchanged while one person sits on the other’s lap. Weak, sweaty kisses because it’s unbearably hot. Solomon x f!MC

Whispering “I love you” before a chaste, delicate kiss. Solomon x f!MC

A small, fleeting kiss - which is immediately followed by a passionate, hungry kiss. Solomon x f!MC

“Surprise.” Solomon x f!MC

Marks. * Solomon x f!MC

“I think I forgot what human contact felt like” Solomon x f!MC

“Come back to bed kisses left on A’s neck and shoulder, unhurried and tender, with arms wrapped around A’s waist.” Solomon x f!MC

Morning after. Solomon x f!MC

Jealous. Solomon x f!MC, Satan x f!MC

Choice. Solomon x (angel)f!MC

Assorted 5 sentence drabbles

“How much longer are we gonna go without telling anyone?” & “We would make a pretty good couple” & “After everything we’ve been through you don’t think I love you.” Solomon x f!MC

Theater. f!Astaroth x f!MC, OM boys x f!MC

“I wonder what your boyfriend would say if he knew what you were doing right now.” Solomon x f!MC x Asmodeus.

Simeon

“I see the way you look at me when you think I’m not looking.” Simeon x f!MC

“Are you trying to seduce me?” “Depends. Are you seducible?” Simeon x f!MC

“Are you going to kiss or keep staring?” “Don’t act innocent, you had me pinned underneath you five minutes ago.” Simeon x f!MC

“Are you trying to turn me on or are you just that oblivions?” “Are you sure? Once we start, I might not be able to stop.” * Simeon x f!MC

A kiss that is leading to more, but is interrupted by a third party. Simeon x f!MC

Wet kisses after finding refuge from the rain. Simeon x f!MC

A kiss so passionate, so perfect - that after they part, neither person can open their eyes for a few moments afterwards. Simeon x f!MC

“You are never going to be the same after this.” & “I hope you don’t get your heart broken.” Simeon & Lucifer, Simeon x f!MC

“Why did you help me?” Simeon x f!MC.

“The fall” Simeon x f!MC

“Soft goodnight kisses exchanged on lamp-lit doorsteps on chilly autumn evenings.” Simeon x f!MC

Morning after. Simeon x f!MC

“Every time I look at you, I think I fall a little more in love” Simeon x f!MC

“It’s been a long day” & “Let’s take a bath together” Simeon x f!MC

Assorted 5 sentence drabbles

Theater. f!Astaroth x f!MC, OM boys x f!MC

“Mamihlapinatapei - The look between two people in which each loves the other but is too afraid to make the first move.” Simeon x f!MC

Diavolo

Laying a gentle kiss to the back of the other’s hand. Diavolo x f!MC

“I desperately want to take you out for dinner and slow dance with you until the sun comes up, but I also want to grip your hair as I watch you writhing underneath me.” Diavolo x f!MC

“Joyful kisses peppered across foreheads and cheeks between scattered giggles.” Diavolo x f!MC

Assorted 5 sentence drabbles

Our hearts’ desire. Diavolo x f!MC (Part 1, Part 2) 

Concubine. Diavolo x f!MC (Part 1, Part 2, Part 3) 

Theater. f!Astaroth x f!MC, OM boys x f!MC

Acts of treason. Diavolo x f!MC (one-sided)

Barbatos

Assorted 5 sentence drabbles

Theater. f!Astaroth x f!MC, OM boys x f!MC

Astaroth 

Assorted 5 sentence drabbles

Theater. f!Astaroth x f!MC, OM boys x f!MC

The “MC is just tryna get some” stories (to be continued):

“Have you never seen a bra before?” Lucifer x f!MC

“Have you never seen a bra before?” Satan x f!MC

“Have you never seen a bra before?” Mammon x f!MC

“Have you never seen a bra before?” Leviathan x f!MC

“Go ahead. Underestimate me. That’ll be fun.” “I think I may be slightly more drunk than I thought.” Solomon x f!MC

“I think I’m in love with you and I don’t know what to do.” “Don’t look at me like that and then feign innocence.” Solomon x f!MC

“Is that blood?” “Is that my shirt?” Solomon x f!MC

[arknights-imagines]

the christmas prompt but with executor pleasee

From, Executor

Christmas Letter and Gift event

The Christmas event has now concluded!! 🥺☃️ I'll make a post talking more about the event at a later date! 🌸

You honestly expected to be working during the Holidays, but as it turns out, everyone at Rhodes Island receives a small break for Christmas - and that includes you.

The break was already awfully gracious in your opinion; so imagine your surprise when you had entered your office to collect your belongings to take home with you for the Holidays, only to find a white envelope closed with a red wax seal on your desk.

Brow lifted, you approach your desk and carefully pick it up - on the back of the envelope, your name is printed in oddly familiar uniform hand-printing and the letter feels thin in your hand. Did someone get you a Christmas gift? You don’t recall anyone hinting to you that they were planning to get you one.

Nevertheless, you forget your original reason for coming by your office, and instead you allow all your attention to be captured by the letter; the seal breaks easily, and inside the envelope you find a sheet of paper folded carefully in half, bearing rows upon rows of words written in that same uniform penmanship - but this time you smile and your eyes soften, as when you read the first line you recognize who the writing belongs to.

--------------------

Hello love.

I was not planning on sending you a letter, so please forgive my suddenness. I assure you that I have a reason for taking up your time; though, while I am not certain I will be able to articulate my thoughts very well while writing this, trust in me when I say this letter comes from a place of warmth in my heart that I did not even know existed until you and I encountered each other.

While this is indeed a Holiday letter, I see no use in Christmas; but I am well aware others care for it very much. Laterano commemorates Christmas to an extreme extent, even going as far as decorating the streets, churches and all buildings for the occasion - they are very advanced in technology, and so many of the cities are illuminated with phenomenal light displays during this time of year; I have seen such on many occasions. I am educated on the traditions closely related to Christmas and I saw that it mattered to others, though I did not understand the motive behind celebrating it. I lacked a reason to spend time enjoying the Holidays, as well as someone to enjoy said Holidays with.

[Name]; now that you are in my life, I think I understand the reasons as to why people enjoy Christmas to a greater extent than I did previously, but it goes much beyond that - after being with you, and as our relationship grew into something I never anticipated it to become, many aspects of my life changed.

I found myself having you in my thoughts while carrying out missions, I noticed I became worried beyond belief if you were not caring for yourself or if you were hurt, and the way I viewed the world became less and less mechanical. Perhaps the Notarial Hall would see these new thoughts and feelings as problematic or as something that would hinder my ability to complete missions and work; but I am the most content I have ever been. Love, at your side I’ve found happiness and warmth that I did not think I had the capacity for. Words cannot adequately express my gratefulness for you - thank you.

As for Christmas specifically, the Laterano Notarial Hall offers a period of leave in order for people to celebrate Christmas with their families and those they care about. Rarely have I ever taken this leave, as a matter a fact, the only times I would pause my work were when I was very ill or hospitalized. I’ve always disregarded any Holidays and continued my work as usual because I had no reason to take time to enjoy them. This year, however, I will accept the offer. Why’s that? It’s quite simple; I wish to celebrate Christmas with you, love.

[Name], it may seem odd I am taking time away from my work - the fact I am not prioritizing my mission over all else as I typically would it is strange to me as well. For a very long time, carrying out the commissions I was given was the sole thing I cared about, but now that you are here, my mission is not of most importance to me; you are. Oripathy, Catastrophes, war, death - though I am well aware these things are able to end either of our lives unceremoniously, I do not worry about them when I have you in my thoughts, love. Maybe I am repeating myself, but I feel most at ease when I am with you, and I feel very happy whenever we are together. And so, I feel as though I need to spend this Holiday season expressing my appreciation to you.

I understand we spend much of our time together, both when working and when resting, though the Holidays seem like an occasion that is much more special; it is a time where I can spend time with you and cherish those moments without any distractions or worries.

My knowledge of Christmas traditions outside of religious and cultural ones, as well as what one does during the Holidays is limited, but that matters not. As long as I spend it with you, my time away from my work will be very well spent. I understand that I may not be the ideal person to celebrate the Holidays with, so no need to worry if you do not wish to spend the entirety of your break with me. Even if it is just minutes, I will and I do hold every moment I spend with you very close to my heart.

From what I have heard, Rhodes Island is also offering a Holiday break to its employees. I will never force you to do anything, but I hope you will accept the offer. Of course, you do not have to use your break to celebrate the Holidays if you do not wish to; in your case [name], I believe that any free days you get should be used to rest if nothing else. I tell you this very often, but rest is necessary, love. You mean very much to me, so please take care of yourself.

People give each other gifts on the Holidays as a sign of appreciation, is that correct? So it was only appropriate that I gave you something for Christmas. My research told me that jewelry or clothing are ideal gifts for your lover, but I do not agree; purchasing a store-bought gift felt empty to me. I wanted my gift to you to express my fondness toward you, and a gift from a store is simply unable to encapsulate that. Because of that, I made the decision to hand-make one. Gifts are meant to be unexpected, a surprise; but I apologize for not asking if you wanted one beforehand. I ask that you please accept it regardless.

As of writing this, I have just sent a notice to the Notarial Hall informing them that I will be away for the Holidays. When my break begins, I plan on spending most of my time with you. If you take Christmastime off as well, we should choose something to do to celebrate the Holidays; but if not, I have no problem assisting you with your work.

[Name] - this warmth, the way my heartbeat quickens and I cannot restrain my smile whenever you are with me; even now, what I feel towards you is something I have trouble understanding and putting into words. It is a feeling I can only describe as love. And as such, the best way I can express what I feel is this: I love you. Everyday from this point onward, I promise I will love you to the best of my ability.

Please look after yourself, love.

Executor

--------------------

Though you’re standing on your own two feet when you read the letter, as it comes to its conclusion your whole body feels airy and a floating sensation fills you at the sincerity in Executor’s words.

Everyone else around the both of you saw him as a coldhearted robot who lacked any emotions, but Executor was not what he seemed - or maybe you’re the only one who thought that way because he reserved his warmth for you. Regardless, you adore him in a way you can't describe; unbeknownst to him, he makes you feel the most loved you have ever felt, and for that, you silently swear to yourself that you will always be at his side.

Your eyes search around for the aforementioned gift Executor had spoken about in his letter, and your eyes fall back to your desk, where you notice something circular wrapped in white cellophane sat atop your papers. The shiny cellophane is opaque, wrapping around the gift and bunching at the top, where a red ribbon holds it together. You lift a brow; from the shape of the gift, you're unable to immediately discern what it is.

Curious, you carefully undo the ribbon and pull away the cellophane wrapping; as the gift is revealed, your eyes go slightly wide and your lips fall agape.

Sat on a thin cake board is a traditional angel food cake, with its hollow center decorated with an assortment of colorful berries. The icing sugar covering its surface reminds you of snow, and a mouthwatering sweet smell from the cake glides your way after you remove it from the cellophane wrapping.

Restorting to using a tissue from the box on your desk as a makeshift glove to avoid touching it with your bare hands, you take a small piece of the cake from off its side; you’re beyond amazed at the sweet taste, cloudy taste that fills your mouth as you eat the small bite of cake.

You recall what Executor had mentioned in his letter to you - ‘And so, I made the decision to hand make one’ - he had made the cake himself. Your eyes fill with awe, rarely did the Rhodes Island cafeteria offer sweets such as the one you had in front of you, and at the fact that Executor had taken his time to bake you something for Christmas makes your heart explode with warmth.

Just as you’re about to take another piece off of the cake, your eyes notice a tag hanging off the ribbon that was previously holding the wrapping together. Placing the oh-so-tempting cake aside for now, you focus your attention to the handwritten note that’s on the paper tag, ‘Merry Christmas, love. As someone born in Laterano, I understand the basis of baking, but I have not put said skills to practice in a very long time, nor have I ever baked something for someone else. While homemade angel food cake is not a feat deserving of a standing ovation, I hope you enjoy it. If you would like, perhaps I can teach you how to make it during the Holidays.’

His words make you pause, and a smile comes to your face. After a few moments, you put your tissue away and wrap the cake back up; it’s like they say - some things are better enjoyed with someone you love, and after reading the last line of his note, you decide you’ll wait for Executor. ‘[Name], while I understand a gift like this is not permanent or long lasting, my feelings toward you are. Even if I may not do it in the best way, even if I find it hard to understand; as long as I am able to, I will love you. That is my vow to you.’

[ladyrynofsunnydale]

Bo-Katan Week Day 4/ Gaslight Gatekeep Girlboss

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: References to Major Character Death, References to Mild Drug Use

Characters: Bo-Katan Kryze, Koska Reeves, Boba Fett, Din Djarin, Cara Dune, Moff Gideon (Star Wars), Fennec Shand (mentioned), Ursa Wren (mentioned), Sabine Wren (mentioned), Satine Kryze (mentioned)

Summary: Post-Mandalorian Season 2 Rescue. Bo-Katan isn’t quite sure today could have gone any worse. She had failed to enact her revenge, she was in pain, and honestly, she wanted all these aruetiis off her ship now. And if Din Djarin tried to get her to take the Darksaber one more time, she might just lose it.

Author’s Note: Happy Day 4 of Bo-Katan week! I think this counts as Gaslight Gatekeep Girlboss? Anyways, I couldn't stop thinking about how Bo-Katan would have reacted to the finale of the Mandalorian Season 2 so I cranked this out. I enjoyed writing it and I hope you enjoy reading it!

Tags: @bokatanweek 

Click on the link up top to read or continue reading below

Bo-Katan hissed when she settled into the chair in the light cruiser’s medbay. She’d walked there on her own just on sheer force of will and anger, but now that the adrenaline was leaving her body she was left aching and in pain. She wasn’t thirty anymore and she felt those blaster wounds far more than she used to. Could also be due to the fact that she no longer used battle stimulants. While she didn’t miss the not sleeping for days and jittery energy high that accompanied the stims, she did miss the absence of pain.

She pulled out her knife to cut into her flightsuit and barely kept herself from crying out as she pulled it out of the singed flesh on her left thigh. Gritting her teeth, she leaned into her anger to help her through the pain. Anger at allowing herself to be distracted by the Jedi carving a path through the dark troopers. Anger at allowing herself to be thrust back in time into long ago memories, memories of a simpler time when her greatest worry was that her sister was ruining Mandalorian culture while a host of Jedi led a grand petty war at the head of an army of clones. How different things could have been if her sister’s Jedi love had been able to save her. How different things may have been had the Jedi not fallen. Her distraction had allowed karking Gideon to get the jump on her. Again. Six shots, four pinging off her armor and two hitting their mark in her mid and upper left thigh. To compound that, one of the shots had hit her left shin guard and had hyper extended her knee. The pain made her whoozy and she leaned over, holding her still helmeted head in her hands, and willed the world to stop blacking out at the edges and for the contents of her stomach to stay where they were.

She had lost the Darksaber. Her one shot at proving to her people that she was worthy to lead them one more time. Proving to herself that she was worthy to lead them again. That saber had consumed her life for years. She’d accepted it once without winning it, and she couldn’t do that again. Maybe that is why she had lost everything. Why her people had lost everything. She still remembered holding Ursa’s body as she died. Ursa, her oldest friend and confidant. After that, she couldn’t look Sabine in the eye. Not until she had avenged Ursa and her people by taking revenge on Gideon and winning the Darksaber back. And karking Din Djarin had taken that from her.

She pulled out her blasters and fired continuously at a deactivated droid in the corner of the room until it was just a smoking hole in the wall then removed her helmet and launched it across the room, screaming her rage and pain. Standing she limped her way to a cabinet and violently yanked the doors open and riffled through the contents until she’d found cleaning solution, bacta, and an elastic bandage. She sat down again and cleaned the wounds before spreading the bacta on them, grinding her teeth together to work through the pain, then wrapped the elastic bandage around her aching knee to stabilize it. Once her task was accomplished, all her energy left her and she dropped her head back into her hands and stared at the floor. The Darksaber. Din Djarin. Gideon. Sabine. Ursa. Ahsoka. Satine. Fenn Rau. The Darksaber. Her mind spiraled and spiraled until there was a knock at the door. She looked up to see Koska. And Boba Fett. The clone.

“Come to gloat?” she snapped out.

“Thought about it, Princess. But I’m not one to kick someone when they’re down,” he answered.

“Since when?” she snorted. He shrugged. She couldn’t see his face with his helmet on and the voice modulator masked any emotion.

“When the mood strikes me. Here,” he said and tossed her a loaded stimulant gun. She caught it and clenched her teeth together.

“I don’t use these anymore.” Fett crossed his arms over his chest.

“You might want to consider it.”

“I’ll take the pain, thanks.” She tossed it back to him. He shrugged.

“Suit yourself. Fennec and I are leaving. Good luck on your fool’s errand of retaking Mandalore.” Bo ground her teeth together. Staring at Jango Fett’s clone in Mandalorian armor and hearing that voice so easily dismiss her home planet made her blood boil. That voice that she had owed so much to when they’d helped her reclaim Mandalore, and then the voice that had just as quickly turned on them to claim Mandalore for the Empire. She’d hated the clones. Hated that they were based off a Mandalorian’s DNA and had gone against everything a Mandalorian stood for. They had no honor. They had gunned down her people, adults and children alike, to force the planet into submission. Even Ursa had submitted.

However, she could use Fett and Fennec’s skills. They were both true and formidable warriors. But Fett didn’t believe in her cause, didn’t believe in her, and how could she blame him? She couldn’t even reclaim the Darksaber and was just shot by the man who’d taken it from her. And where Fett went, Fennec went.

“Try not to get yourself killed,” she snarked.

“You too, Princess,” he answered back, and she was surprised to hear a note of sincerity. He then turned and was gone. Koska leaned up against the doorframe and she could feel her eyes on her as she pushed herself up to standing and tested her left leg. It held. Thank the gods. She limped her way to her helmet and picked it up.

“You alright, boss?” Koska asked. Bo had known Koska since she was ten. Her Aunt had been one of her most loyal Nite Owls, and after watching her parents get gunned down by clones she’d enthusiastically volunteered when she’d come of age. She’d quickly become one of her most trusted people, especially as the commandos around her had dwindled, and she was happy to have her by her side now. And proud of the woman and warrior she had become.

“Just fine, Reeves.” She turned around and saw Koska staring at her. She softened just a bit. “I’m alright. Just not as young as I used to be.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Koska said, smirking, coming into step beside her while she limped out the door and back towards the command bridge.

She prepared herself to once again be among the remaining people there. Din Djarin, the New Republic drop trooper, and Gideon. As she’d suspected, Fett and Fennec were already gone, and the trooper was speaking with somebody on the comms.

“I want both of you off this ship,” Bo snapped, limping into the room. Everyone turned their eyes to her, and she could see Gideon once again smirking. The Darksaber was just lying there on one of the control consoles. Breathe, Bo-Katan, breathe, she told herself.

“The Republic will meet us…” the trooper said and Bo cut her off.

“I’m not rendezvousing with any New Republic fleet. You can take Gideon and the shuttle and get off my ship.”

“You didn’t take this ship all by yourself,” the trooper said, narrowing her eyes.

“Get. Off. My. Ship.” Bo stalked towards her and loosened her blasters in their holsters. She saw the dropper’s eyes flick to her repeating rifle then back to Bo, and Koska stepped up beside her. Their stare off was finally interrupted by a voice from the console.

“Dune? Dune, do you read me?” The trooper, Dune, broke her gaze and stared down at the console and pressed a button.

“I read you. Slight change of plan. Send me your coordinates and I’ll meet you with the prisoner.”

There was silence for a while, then finally a response.

“Protocol dictates…”

Bo limped over and slammed her hand down on the button.

“I don’t give a damn what protocol dictates. If you want Gideon alive and not a smoking corpse, you will transmit your coordinates to Trooper Dune so they can get the hell off my ship.”

Silence again.

“Who is this?”

“I am Bo-Katan of Mandalore. I am taking over command of this ship as recompense for what the Empire did to my people.”

They didn’t respond for a few minutes. She was sure they were looking her up, and she figured she knew what they’d find.

“Lady Kryze,” the voice came back, and she wasn’t surprised. “As former regent…”

“Transmit the fucking coordinates,” Bo-Katan interrupted.

Silence.

“Transmitting now,” the voice finally said. Dune downloaded the coordinates onto a disk.

“We’ll meet you there,” she said into the console and took a step back. “Well, it’s been a pleasure,” she said sarcastically and Bo ignored her and walked further into the bridge. “Din, what’s your plan?” Bo turned to see his response. He was just sitting there, where she’d left him however long ago, his helmet on the console beside him and his head in his hands, staring at the ground. As much as she wanted to hate him, she couldn’t. She pitied him. She knew it had not been easy for him to hear what she’d had to say on Trask. Having grown up in a cult herself, she knew how it took over your persona. Djarin had forsaken everything he’d known for the foundling, and then had lost him. Just like she’d lost Satine. And Ursa. And her planet.

Djarin looked up. His eyes were red, and he seemed to be unused to focusing on people with his bare eyes.

“I…” he started, his voice rough, and cleared his throat. He looked between Bo, Koska, and Dune, then stared straight at Bo, then to the Darksaber, then back. “Please take it,” he pleaded. She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him. He dropped his head and stared at the ground again, a defeated man. He took a shuddering breath then looked up again. “I’ll come with you, Bo-Katan.” She nodded then turned to Dune and raised her eyebrow. 

“Very well,” Dune sighed, and walked over to Djarin and he stood and they clasped arms. “Good luck. You know where to find me.”

“Thank you. For everything.”

Dune turned and pulled Gideon up and dragged him towards the door.

“Let’s go, asshole.”

And then they were gone. A short time later she heard the beep that signaled a ship leaving the hanger and she watched the shuttle move away then jump to hyperspace. Djarin finally broke the silence.

“What’s the plan now?”

Without turning around from the vast expanse of space, Bo answered.

“We take back our planet.”

[refinedbuffoonery]

Flawless (5)

masterlist.

Content Warning: swearing, violence, sex, PTSD, background drug use

*****

Riley waited a full week before talking to Nikki again. Probably not her best move, but Nikki didn’t need to be such a baby either. 

Hey we need to book flights, Riley typed. 

The three dots appeared and disappeared several times before Nikki sent back, Come over. Let’s do it together. 

Ok.

An hour later, Riley hesitated before knocking on Nikki’s apartment door. She didn’t know why. She hadn’t done anything wrong. And yet here she was, standing outside like a timid guest instead of letting herself in like she always did. 

Deep breath. “This is ridiculous,” Riley muttered to herself. Her knuckles collided with the wood in three sharp knocks. 

Muffled footsteps approached the door, and then Riley was met with Nikki’s soft smile. “Hey,” the blonde said. 

“Hey.” Crossing the threshold, Riley didn’t know what to do with her hands. She tried to put them in her front pockets before realizing her jeans didn’t have pockets. Nikki would take crossed arms the wrong way, so Riley clasped her hands in front of her. That felt wrong too. She settled on clasping her hands behind her back, slightly widening her stance like a soldier. 

She’d learned that from an Army guy her mom dated once. 

Nikki grabbed her laptop and set it on the kitchen counter. Looking at the screen, she said, “I started looking at flights before you got here. They’re all pretty expensive because it’s Fashion Week, but I think I’ve found some good options.” 

Riley kept her distance, but she said, “Whatever you think is best.” 

Nikki’s eyes slid to her, disbelieving. “Are you sure?”

Riley tensed. “Why wouldn’t I be?” 

“You always have opinions on flights. Always.” That was true. When it came to running a job, Riley never let someone make a decision without her input. 

But her apology had to start somewhere. If Desi, of all people, thought she needed to apologize, then she couldn’t just sweep this under the rug. And giving Nikki back some control after refusing to do so before seemed like a good place to start. 

“You can pick. I trust you.” Riley shoved down the burning need to look over Nikki’s shoulder as her gut churned, unsteady and anxious without having complete control. She quickly wiped the grimace off her face, but it was too late. Nikki saw it. 

“Riles, are you okay? You look like you’re going to puke.” Nikki studied her with a concerned frown. 

Riley squeaked, “Yep. I’m good.” 

Her friend wasn’t convinced. “You hate this, don’t you?” 

“Just book the fucking flights, Nik.” She fought not to squirm the entire time Nikki worked, only relaxing after the deed was done and Nikki closed her laptop with a soft click. 

“Need anything else?” Riley didn’t miss the clear dismissal in Nikki’s tone. 

“Uh, yeah.” Riley awkwardly rubbed the back of her neck, just to give her hands something to do. “Jill told me about that jewelry designer who rented out the Louvre,” she said. “That wasn’t just a casual conversation you two had, was it?” 

Nikki glanced down. “No, it wasn’t. But you already knew that.” 

“Why not just tell me yourself?” 

“Because you wouldn’t have listened to me!” Nikki tried and failed to speak calmly, her normally calm exterior crumbling with each word. “When I questioned you in the kitchen, you pulled rank and basically told me to shut up. If I had suggested an alternative target, you would’ve blown up in my face right in front of everyone!” A pause. “You’ve changed. The Riley I know doesn’t do things like that.” 

Her words stung, but Riley kept her expression neutral, the way she’d learned to do in prison. “Desi thinks I still hold a grudge against you.” 

“Do you?” Nikki asked softly. So, so softly, almost like she was afraid of the answer. 

Nikki’s change in tone and the apprehension lining her eyes was enough to make Riley lower her guard. Not all the way, but just enough to say, “I don’t know. Maybe.” Nikki swallowed. “It’s complicated,” Riley backtracked, desperately trying not to make things worse than they already were. 

“So how do we fix this?” Nikki asked. “Fix us.” 

Talk to her, Jill had said. 

“Talk about it, I guess. Not all today,” Riley quickly added, “but over time.” 

“Okay.” Nikki chewed her bottom lip, and Riley waited, knowing her best friend had something more to say. Nikki’s voice was thick when she finally said, “It’s okay that you’ve changed. Of course you have. It’s not fair of me to hold that against you. And I’m sorry that it’s my fault you had to change to survive in there.” 

Neither of them could say the word aloud. Prison. Riley could barely imagine a future where she could easily say it. 

“Do you really blame yourself?” 

“It’s hard not to.” 

“That’s why you visited me so much, isn’t it? Because you felt guilty.” 

Nikki looked down. “It should’ve been me in there, not you.” 

“Bullshit. I made a choice, and I’d do it again if I had to.” Riley wasn’t entirely sure the last part was true, but it seemed like the right thing to say. Clearly it was, because Nikki met her gaze, eyes brimmed with tears and a sad smile just barely curving her lips. 

“Thank you, Riley.” 

The moment hung heavy in the air between them. Riley felt it then, the gravity pulling her toward Nikki—the same force that drew them together outside that art gallery all those years ago, like the universe was telling her they needed each other. Riley spent much of the last two years cursing the universe, but this...this was the one thing the universe did right. 

Riley closed the distance between them in two long steps, flinging her arms around Nikki and holding her best friend tight, letting the hug convey the last thing she needed to say. 

I’m sorry. 

Nikki clutched her just as tightly, like she was afraid Riley would disappear again if she didn’t hold on tight enough. 

Breaking the silence, Riley asked, “Do you want to go shopping with me?” 

“Like Target and the grocery store shopping? Or maxing-out our credit cards on Rodeo Drive shopping?” Riley snorted. This was normal. Like it was before. 

“I, uhh, tried on all my party clothes the other day, and none of them fit anymore.” Riley tucked her face into Nikki’s neck, not wanting to see the pitying look on her friend’s face. She expected another comment, or for Nikki’s hand to feel her ribs, but neither happened. Instead, Nikki simply pressed a kiss to her temple and continued to hold her, with no sign of letting go any time soon. 

Almost as if she were an anchor, refusing to let Riley get swept out to sea. 

*****

Riley studied her reflection in the bathroom mirror. The metallic red mini dress she’d bought earlier clung to her curves like she’d been wrapped in plastic. She’d expected pity as she pulled it off the rack, but Nikki had been nothing but reassuring. Even after Riley had sent her from the dressing room again and again to grab a smaller size. 

She’d left with a pile of clothes small enough to fit a wraith-like body like Cage’s. 

Now the team was at an exclusive party at a mansion in the Hills—courtesy of Cage’s endless social connections—for a little fun. And by fun that meant stealing stuff from a notoriously overbearing, sexist, and overall obnoxious director. He had it coming, to say the least. 

Desi had to work— “Drunk assholes won’t bounce themselves out of the club,” she’d snarked—but Jill agreed to tag along. That way she could get her feet wet in a real heist and show the rest of the team what she could do. 

The four of them—Riley, Nikki, Cage, and Jill—huddled off to the side of the spacious living room as Cage explained the plan. “Get a load of this,” she said, a feral grin lighting her face. It was one of the things Riley admired most about Cage, her passion for the job. “Six months ago, this guy paid millions at auction for a miniature painting. But because of the crowd that attends his parties, he hides it in his personal safe in his office so nothing happens to it.” 

Considering the utter debauchery all around her, Riley didn’t blame him. Every guest had either a drink or pills in hand, often both, and she vaguely recognized the actor snorting cocaine off the kitchen counter. In the darker, more private nooks of the mansion, people slunk to the shadows to devour each other in semi-private. Riley made a point not to look too long in those directions. 

Jill clearly hadn’t yet learned to do the same. She asked, wide-eyed, “Whose house is this?”

Nikki gripped her chin and turned Jill’s attention back to the group. “It’s better that you don’t know.” 

Frowning, Jill questioned, “Why?” Always so many questions with her. 

“Because you’ll chicken out.” 

“I will not!” she shrieked. Nikki just smirked. “Okay,” Jill amended in a much quieter tone, “maybe a little.” 

“Anyway,” Cage redirected. “I’ll go into the office first and make sure it’s empty.” And remove anyone who is there, she didn’t have to say. “Riley and Nikki will hack the safe—” they both nodded— “and Jill will make sure you two don’t leave any evidence behind.” 

Riley itched to get her hands on that safe. Stealing that random man’s wallet a week ago had only made her more hungry to get back out there, doing what she did best. She eyed her team. “Don’t get caught.” 

“Don’t get caught,” Nikki and Cage parroted, just like old times, and then Cage melted into the crowd, making her way to the office. 

The remaining trio followed at a much slower pace, pretending to admire the eclectic collection of artwork hanging from the walls. Riley’s cursory glance snagged on a cartoonish painting of a pug driving a Porsche on some tropical highway. The director had bizarre taste. Knowing Nikki was doing the same, Riley kept the office door in her peripheral vision, waiting for Cage to reemerge. 

Meanwhile, Riley pulled her phone from her clutch. To any onlookers, she was merely responding to a text message, but in reality she was hacking into the director’s home security system. It was easy enough, since the whole thing was connected to his WIFI, and the director was dumb enough to leave his network accessible without a password. 

Although, it wasn’t like bypassing a WIFI password would’ve slowed Riley Davis down. 

Riley didn’t understand this guy. He hosted drug-fueled ragers in his mansion, yet also cared enough about security to have interior cameras. Why would he want proof of what happens within these walls? 

Unless…

Gagging, Riley refused to finish that thought.

Cage emerged a few minutes later with a wasted middle-aged woman in tow. She met Riley’s gaze just long enough for two slow blinks. Coast is clear. 

Riley looped the office camera feed so it only showed the empty office, giving them plausible deniability of ever going inside. “Let’s go,” Riley murmured. She slipped into the now-empty office, trusting Nikki and Jill to follow. 

The director’s office, like the rest of the mansion, was ultra-modern, all sharp angles and sleek, black and white furniture. A distorted statue of a giraffe was the only exception, standing beside the door like a sentry. It’s glassy black eyes made it seem like it was watching them. Freezing, Riley checked the angle of the camera she’d looped. It matched the giraffe’s eye-level perfectly. 

Sneaky bastard. The camera was in the giraffe’s eye. Clever, but creepy. 

Embedded in the far wall, behind the director’s messy desk, the safe was relatively new and very high-tech. And while the fancier ones were always harder to crack, user-friendliness came at the cost of security. In the case of this particular safe, the battery compartment for the keypad was part of the keypad itself, so the batteries could be changed easily. But that also meant that by taking out the batteries, someone like Riley would then have direct access to the wires inside the keypad, and thus, an easily hackable way in. 

Nikki slid on a pair of cotton gloves before taking out the batteries and wiring the keypad to Riley’s phone. Riley reached back to brush her curls out of her face, but Jill stopped her with a firm hand on her forearm. 

“Don’t touch your hair. You don’t want any loose strands to fall on the floor.” Riley raised her brows but did as she was told. “You should’ve worn your hair up.” Jill gestured to her own meticulously pinned bun. No stray hairs would be escaping that thing. 

“Good to know.” Riley turned her attention back to cracking the safe. 

It took just under a minute. 

“Losing your touch?” Nikki teased. “That took forever.” 

Riley rolled her eyes. “Shut up.” 

Once the safe was open, they didn’t waste time poking around. All they cared about was the painting, no matter what other valuable things the safe contained. The painting was even smaller than Riley had pictured. The canvas itself could’ve fit in the palm of her hand, and the frame made the whole thing about the size of a birthday card. 

Nikki shoved the painting down the back of her dress, the frame’s sharp angles hidden beneath her ridiculous fringed suede jacket. Considering how well it hid the painting, maybe Riley shouldn’t have made fun of it. But only maybe. It was still ugly. 

Riley and Nikki locked the safe, and the trio slipped out of the office undetected. 

In short, the heist was flawless. 

Nikki immediately peeled off, joining Cage in flitting around the room and saying hi to all sorts of people. Nikki seemed to actually know several of the guests, although not nearly as many as Cage did. Cage was acquainted with everyone worth knowing in LA, plus quite a few who weren’t. 

Riley much preferred to be a fly on the wall, watching but not interacting. 

Jill stayed back with her, mouth agape at all the blatant drug use. “I’ve lived in LA for a long time, so I know that happens here,” she said, “but, like, it’s different actually seeing it, you know?” 

A young couple knocked back a handful of pills with shots of something clear, and Riley grimaced. “You can join in if you want, although I don’t recommend it.” 

“Absolutely not!” Jill squeaked. 

“Good choice.” 

Nikki made her way back to them, slinging her arms around Riley and Jill’s shoulders. “Ready to go?” 

Riley had been ready to go the moment they’d locked the safe. If Jill’s overwhelmed expression was any indicator, she was ready too. 

All that was left to do was collect Cage. 

The blonde stood across the room, batting her eyelashes at an attractive, dark-haired man. Her airy giggle floated above the pulsing music at something the man said. Jill coughed. “Umm…”

Riley quickly put her out of her misery. “It’s fine. Cage flirts with everyone. It doesn’t mean anything.” 

“She’s just like that,” Nikki added. “Stick with us long enough, and she’ll flirt with you too.” 

“Doesn’t that upset Desi?” Riley and Nikki exchanged a knowing look. “Wait, what am I missing?” Jill hissed. 

“So many questions,” Riley teased, linking arms with both blondes. Nikki laughed, and together they dodged wasted partiers on their way to grab Cage and go home.

~ Tag List ~ (let me know if you’d like to be added!)

@macrileyedits​ / @hellishrose​ / @incorret-macgyver-quotes​ / @mylifequotesshowallofthem​ / @thecarrieonokay​

[tarithenurse]

Nightingale - 19

Fandom: Naruto Pairing: Hatake Kakashi &/x Fem!OC Contents: Yeah...this gets darker with some violence, a torture-ish situation, angst, sadness. A/N: Gotten to 347 of Shippuuden, btw. What a ride! As usual, ASK or REBLOG for tag!

Ch. 19

Her restraints haven't been altered, so Uguisu sits straight in the chair – the only display of freedom being a leg daintily slung over the other, allowing a foot to tap along in the air to an unheard melody as if she's bored. There is no fear in her face, just mild curiosity as she regards the towering man who has turned to her now. Gloved fingers move nimbly to release the gag.

"How are you feeling, Minami-kun?"

If she's surprised at the question and the (relatively) kind voice, she doesn't show it. "Much better, thank you. I don't believe I've slept this well since I was a teen."

"I suppose not..." Ibiki concedes, "but how come you managed to tonight? I would expect someone with your claimed experiences would have nightmares."

"Normally, yes. I guess I was too exhausted even to dream." The interrogator has begun circling the chair where she sits so her gaze lands on Kakashi instead.

"It can be a relief to finally tell the truth."

She nods. "Might also have helped that establishing the seal burned through all my chakra."

"The seal...yes." Pausing, he lets a hand brush against her shoulder, and while Kakashi holds his breath in anticipation, the woman merely tenses. "Do you feel...different with the seal?"

Uguisu purses her lips slightly as if in deep thought. "Well, apart from the physical effect...I'm not sure. It might be psychological that I feel free...like a looming shadow has been chased away...it probably is...but it's the best metaphor."

"You mentioned a physical effect?"

"It throbs, hurts. Not the worst I've ever felt but enough to be annoying." It’s impossible to tell she’s experiencing any discomfort when looking at her.

"Last night, you told us how the Curse Mark would be triggered if you used too much of your chakra or kekkei genkai." She nods at his words. "Is that the same now?"

"I wouldn't know."

"Why not?"

The little bit Kakashi knows about the woman, he can easily imagine that she's biting a sarcastic comment back rather than the calm reply she gives: "It seemed unwise to do anything without proper approval first...and I'm afraid to try."

"Explain."

"...which part?"

"The latter," Ibiki prompts less patiently but adds, "if you'd be so kind."

"When the mark activates, it's as if Orochimaru takes over mind and body and I...don't...want that."

Kakashi fears for one short moment that the woman will be asked to continue explaining, to retell in gruelling details what exactly she has suffered through at the hands of Konoha's enemy, and maybe that was Ibiki's plan as he bends over her to scrutinize her eyes and face because to the careful observer there's a subtle change in his stance.

He signals Inoichi who brings out a backpack together with a bundle containing the gear she’d carried last night.

“Is this yours?” The man with the long ponytail lifts the backpack.

“It is.”

“What is in it?” He places it on the end of the table that’s free.

A shrug. “I suppose that depends if anything has been added or removed since last I packed it.” Undoubtedly, Uguisu doesn’t trust the men very much. “There should be some tools, weapons, and clothing of mine. You’d also find a book from the Academy’s Library, a necklace, an alarm clock, someone’s favourite cup...washed, I might add...ehm, an also-washed sock, a photograph, and a pretty stone.”

Every item mentioned is procured from the depths of the luggage and lined up on the table.

Morino takes over again: “You have stolen these things, true?”

“Is it still considered stealing if the intention from the beginning is to return them?”

“Then why take them at all?”

A grim smile dances across the woman’s face. “The note explained why I borrowed the book. The rest? Proof that I could’ve killed but chose not to. I’m not the enemy.”

A smile is tugging at Kakashi’s lips behind the black fabric of the collar as he sees the interrogator momentarily at a loss for words – the skills he has honed over the years are telling him the explanation is true or at least not detectable as a lie.

"Then tell me," he recovers, "what you can do with your skill. Why was it so important to Orochimaru?"

"Because it can force people to go against their very nature." Only silence answers her. "One order from me, worded carefully, and the person will have no choice but to follow it to their best of their abilities. They will want to. Like an obsession or addiction nagging their mind until they give in to it because it's the only thing that matters to them. Orochimaru sought to use it to gain access to restricted places or during interrogations if a prisoner refused to tell him what he wanted. At the time, it wasn't necessary for the sake of carrying out murders but I'm certain he considered that as an option too," she sighs, "and probably more."

"Show us."

The onlookers were already silent but the hush that falls in the room makes it feel as though all air has been sucked away – a feeling that's intensified when Uguisu stares at the man with open mouth.

"Show? Are you...you don't mean that," she gasps, "or are...you volunteering?"

"Hm," Kakashi knows something's brewing when the interrogator begins to smile, "not me, no. However I'd recommend you demonstrate your skill on someone who has stated their devotion to you." Yeah, that makes sense. "Kakashi."

Even before Ibiki has finished saying his name, the jōnin in question has pushed to his feet. If Asuma had been there, he’d probably look at the white-haired friend in a way which would mean something along the lines of "told you so". The only Sarutobi, the old Hokage, shifts in his seat but doesn't object, allowing the addition to the people in the arena.

"Order him to follow the first order I give him."

Just do it. Kakashi nods to the woman, hoping to banish the fear from the doe-like eyes as she shifts her attention between the two men. I got nothing to hide.

“I must be able to sign,” she protests.

Without hesitation, the tall man in charge cuts her bonds and even allows her time to rub some life into hands and fingers before he motions towards the test-bunny. Is she hesitating? Just as Kakashi begins to wonder, Uguisu’s hands flies through a series of signs.

"Kakashi..."

Everything changes. The surroundings seem to fade away along with the people in it – even the shadow that once was Ibiki is unable to take form or speak audibly as it leans closer to Uguisu. Uguisu. She's washed out too, but her voice rings clear, somehow guiding him as she speaks again and he just knows that anything she says is important. Follow the order Ibiki gives me. It's a strange thing to say, but if that's what she wants then he'll happily do it and as he nods, the man in question begins to stand out clearer in the blurred world.

"Strangle her until she passes out."

A part of Kakashi tries to object, but his body moves on its own accord until he's leaning over her because this is what she wanted. She told him to follow the order. So he does.

The skin is soft and smooth under his fingers, the little hairs in the neck obediently bend under the pressure and it tickles a memory of having touched the blue strands before but in a different way. Above his hands the usually pretty face is distorted: mouth open, eyes watering and huge. She's afraid? But she wanted me to do this. It doesn't make sense, really, but he clings on to the one thing he knows for sure. Do as told. Her eyes roll backwards and the whites contrast the flushed skin. Almost there. Almost done as you wanted. Something wet lands on her face. Drops of something unimportant. She's resisting a bit now, but it's easy to avoid the instinctual flailing. Almost. And then she stops. The haze of the world lifts as Kakashi's hands fall to his sides and he realizes what he has done.

It takes four seconds to lower her onto the floor.

It takes five before he can hear the heartbeat, sluggish and faint.

It feels like an infinity before she gasps and coughs, each intake of breath shuddering through her body. It nearly breaks his heart to feel Uguisu stiffen as he pulls her into his lap.

"Truth..." Ibiki’s standing with his arms crossed, glaring down at the woman and smiling lazily as he takes in how she reacts even in her ally's arms. "Gotta admit I'm impressed it actually worked...maybe you're not completely useless after all."

"You wanna...see...usefulness?" she wheezes, pushing off of Kakashi and onto her feet. She's shaking, whether from the underlying trauma or the near death experience itself is unclear.

The man who ordered the attack strolls around the arena. "You didn't even try to fight him."

"Why should I...an order cannot be annulled..." Slender fingers tentatively stroke the angry marks left behind on her throat, making Kakashi’s gut tighten.

"Aï...The only thing I've seen so far is a scared woman crying and snivelling."

Something ignites within Kakashi almost as if he had been the target of the insult. But if I butt in...no...He knows the senior well enough to understand that this is part of the tactic, one move of many in an elaborate game of chess between him and the blue-haired girl.

Maybe she knows it too, at least she doesn't hide a tiny smile. "Fight back." Now her smile has grown into a full grin. "Perhaps a duel? Unless it's beneath you to fight a snivelling, scared girl like me? Hmm?"

"No involvement of others."

"Hm," she agrees.

Getting the hint, her white-haired friend retreats to his seat from before, only now realizing that his mask is wet.

Below, Uguisu is equipping the gear she normally wears and meticulously checks the contents of each pouch and sheath. Her hands are shaking. The sound of her breathing still has a slight creaking to it. Maybe for that reason, the scarred man is allowing her to take her time. He wants to see how capable she is.

Ibiki squares off at one side of the sandy floor. "The opponent must yield."

Again, she hums in agreement, taking her own place opposite of him. "Before we start...you might want to have a look in the book," she sweetly offers, "first page."

"Hah! Such a low trick won't work."

[theladyofdeath]

Rags & Riches {6}

Summary: An A Court of Thorns and Roses Fanfiction. 19th century AU. Based on the prompt sent in by @cat5313 All characters belong to SJM, I am just a fan with a plot.

Warning: Mature content strung throughout.

A/N: In case you were missing your dose of Feysand.

Leave a comment to be tagged & tell me what you think! :)

Nesta’s door was locked. 

So, naturally, Feyre began pounding on it.

A minute later, Nesta swung open her door, wrapping a robe around her nightgown, looking exhausted and utterly annoyed.

“What could you possibly need at this hour?” Nesta snapped, before taking in her sister's apparel. “What on earth are you wearing?”

Feyre pushed past Nesta and made her way inside before she spoke a word.

“By all means,” Nesta sighed, “make yourself comfortable.”

Feyre strode to the ignited fireplace and began to pace. “So, I was downstairs, right? And guess what I saw.”

Nesta groaned, shutting her door and leaning against it. “What? And this better be good, because you woke me from the most lovely dream.”

“Elain and the butler.”

Nesta blinked as Feyre stared at her, awaiting any sort of reaction. “So?”

“No, you don’t understand,” Feyre began. “They were outside, holding hands, laughing, walking...somewhere, I don’t know, I didn’t wait to find out.”

Nesta lifted a brow. “You think Elain is sneaking around with a butler?” She scrunched her nose. “Which? They’re all old-“

“Azriel’s not,” Feyre said.

The two sisters stared at one another.

“I don’t understand,” Nesta said, at last. “Is this a dream? I’m certain I’m still asleep. It’s the only logical explanation as to why you’re wearing men’s clothing.”

“Elain and butler Azriel have...a thing,” Feyre said, as if it were obvious. 

Nesta sighed, rubbing her temples. “Can we do this in the morning? I’m exhausted.”

“Do you not have any concern?” Feyre asked, incredulously. “Elain is outside in the middle of the night sneaking around with the help!”

Nesta shook her head. “And since when did you become so prim and proper?” 

Feyre’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t go judging me. I’m just saying, we have no idea where they’ve gone or what they’re doing.” 

“Go to bed, Feyre,” Nesta sighed, pushing herself off the door to trek back toward her bed. “It’s late and you’re seeing things.”

“I know what I saw-”

“You always do this when father leaves,” she said. “Try to cause chaos. Well, it will not work, not tonight. Go to bed and let me sleep.”

“I’m being serio-”

“You are delusional,” Nesta said, removing her robe and hanging it up. “Go to bed.”

“But I-”

“Bed,” Nesta demanded. “Unless you’d like to further explain your choice of wardrobe.” 

It took everything within Feyre not to grab her eldest sister by the shoulders and shake her until she listened, but it would do no good. Nesta was as stubborn as she was cold. Feyre should have known she would not believe her. 

“Fine,” Feyre said, through gritted teeth. “I’m leaving.”

Nesta did not bother to say goodnight as her sister left her room and slammed the door behind her.

Feyre did not go back toward her room, however. Instead, she hurried back downstairs, out the window, and into the woods. As she began her walk toward the village, she saw no sign of Elain or the butler, making her second guess herself.

Perhaps she had been seeing things. Perhaps she had been going mad. 

Or perhaps the pork roast from supper had just been settling wrong, which was always a possibility. 

She put the thought in the back of her mind once she arrived at the gambling house, her mind now ready to swindle drunk idiots out of their money. She quickly found a seat at a table and joined the fun, careful to keep her cap pulled down low.

Hours passed before a young barmaid approached her, although the girl did not have a cup.

“A gentleman asked me to give you this,” she whispered, pressing a small letter into Feyre’s hand.

Feyre blinked. “Which gentleman?”

She took a quick look around, but saw no gentleman, just the usual crowd that hung around there. 

Without a word, Feyre took the letter and nodded her thanks. The maid scurried away as Feyre broke the seal. In perfect penmanship, it read,

I figured it was you or a boy out past his bedtime. You do know that gambling is illegal, do you not? And surely not appropriate for a Lady. Meet me outside. Try not to attract any hoodlums in the alley. I am wearing a new pair of boots and would hate to scuff them fighting for your honor.

Again.

She tore the letter in half before grabbing her winnings, pushing herself from the table, and storming out the front door.

She looked around frantically, suddenly feeling violated. Had he been following her? She thought he had returned to Velaris after the ball. 

Yet, there he was, leaning against the building across the street that had been closed for the night. His black waistcoat made his violet eyes glow brighter as they caught Feyre, storming toward him.

“What is this?” she demanded, holding up the torn letter.

The young Lord Rhysand lifted a brow. “A pleasantry.”

“A pleasantry?” Feyre laughed, humorless. “You offend me then demand that I meet you outside. And do not go on acting as if you are a hero.” 

“It worked,” Rhysand grinned, “did it not?”

Feyre’s lips snapped shut before she threw the letter into his chest. “You are……a complete ass!”

Rhysand’s head tilted to the side. “I have never met a Lady with a mouth such as yours, Feyre darling.” 

“What are you doing here?” she asked, crossing her arms. “Why are you here? Had you not gone home?”

“I was going to, but then I received word just before we were to leave that kept me local,” he shrugged, saying no more. “I shall be around for a few weeks, yet.”

“That sounds shady,” Feyre said, words clipped. “Are you a mercenary?”

Rhysand chuckled. “Yes, I am a Lord and a mercenary. Many frown upon it, but I have come to accept the judgment.” 

Feyre shook her head. “Well, I do not care that you remain here. All I care about is that you leave me be.”

She went to take a step back, to go back inside of the gambling house, but a broad hand reached out and stopped her, wrapping around her slim wrist.

“You cannot go back in there,” he said, voice low. “Allow me to take you home.” 

She attempted to snatch her hand away, but could not get free from his grasp. “Let go. You have no right to order me around.” 

“No,” he said, eyes growing uncharacteristically dark. “Trust me.”

“But I do not trust you,” she spat. “I do not know you.”

That grin returned, although it did not meet his eyes, the eyes that bore into her own. “I’m taking you home.”

“Let go!” 

As the word escaped her, an explosion sounded.

Feyre was thrown to the ground, Rhysand’s broad frame lying on top of hers. A ringing in her ear told her the explosion had been near, and when she opened her eyes, she saw through Rhysand’s arm that a wall of the gambling house had been blown out. A moment later, the world caught up with her, and men and women were screaming as dust and debris covered the street around them.

“Gods, did you plan this?” Feyre screamed, although she was hardly heard above the chaos. “You are a mercenary!” 

Rhysand said nothing as he hauled her up, tossed her over his shoulder, and hurried down the street. No matter how much Feyre fought against him, no matter how much she screamed, he did not budge, and no one bothered to stop the pair. From an outsider’s eye, they probably saw a man dragging his little brother home, kicking and screaming. Besides, people were bleeding out and injured, or in complete and utter shock. They had much bigger things to worry about. 

When they had gone further down the street, Feyre was thrown onto the back of a horse, and the moment she brought herself to sitting position, Rhysand was already behind her, his arms wrapped around her, digging his heels into the horse’s side. They rode for a moment before the horse was brought to a casual trot, and Rhysand let out a long, loose breath.

Feyre, just now gaining her composure, yelled into the silence, “What the hell was that? Who are you? Why-”

“Do you truly think I am capable of such madness?” Rhysand asked, quietly and calmly.

Feyre tossed her hands into the air. “How should I know? I do not know you!”

“I had overheard a pair talking about it in the tavern,” Rhysand explained. “I went to see if you would be there, which I did, and figured I could either storm in and take you out, most likely provoking a public fight, or write you a letter that angered you enough to get you out the door. Which worked, it seemed, although I got the timing a little bit off. The explosion happened sooner than expected. Either way, you are safe, so we shall mark it a success.” Feyre’s mouth hung open, utterly speechless. “You- I- what? Why do you even care? We do not-”

“If you tell me that we do not know each other one more time, Feyre, darling, my heart will truly break. I could not have my future wife being blown to pieces in a lowly gambling house, could I?”

Feyre looked over her shoulder to glare at the Lord, but her eyes soon softened. “You are bleeding.”

Rhysand followed her gaze and reached to his forehead. True enough, his fingers pulled away, the tips covered in crimson. “I have had worse injuries.” 

“Allow me to clean the wound. It is the least I can do.”

Rhysand’s eyebrows lifted. “Your words are kind, but your tone is not. I am confused.”

She turned away from him. “Fine, you do not want my help? I will gladly-”

“There is an inn up ahead,” Rhysand explained. “We can stop there a moment.”

From Feyre’s home to the village was but a twenty minute jog through the woods, but traveling along the winding road did add some time, even on horseback. 

“Very well,” Feyre said, the night’s events having exhausted her. She was all out of fight. 

The inn appeared a moment later, a lantern lit next to a sign that read, Isobel’s Inn. Feyre had never noticed it before and she instantly felt awful, considering she must have passed it a thousand’s times.

Was she truly so shallow that she did not pay attention to local businesses?

Rhysand helped her off the horse and handed the reins to a stableboy, who led the mare away. There were no judgemental looks as Feyre followed Rhysand up the wooden staircase and into a far room. 

The room was small, certainly not one made to house a Lord. A simple desk sat against the wall, holding a book and a stationary set, and aside from the bed, the fireplace, and a wardrobe, nothing else remained. 

“Most would deem this inappropriate,” Feyre said. “A Lady and a Gentleman alone together at an inn.”

Rhysand chuckled, sitting on the edge of the bed. “I promise not to steal your virtue.” 

“My virtue is not what I am worried about,” Feyre mumbled, taking a bowl from the desk and scurrying down the hall. She was back a moment later, the bowl half full of warm water. Once she set it down, she tore off a piece of the bottom of her undershirt.

She dipped the fabric in the water, then brought it to Rhysand’s forehead. He cringed but did not move as she cleaned off the blood around his cut.

“You said you overheard of the explosion at the tavern,” Feyre began, her voice sounding far louder than expected among the silence. “Who were the men? Why an explosion? I have lived here my entire life and there is not much violence.”

Rhysand chuckled, although he did not seem amused. “There is violence everywhere, Feyre. Perhaps not for people like you and me, but for most, violence is everywhere.”

Feyre let his words sink in a moment, realizing just how much of a little world she had been living in within her manor. Except for the past few months where she had begun sneaking out of the house at night, Feyre’s outings consisted of social calls, parties, and dress fittings. 

“But, I do not know the men who did it nor the motive,” Rhysand said. “I heard explosion and gambling house and came hurrying.”

He was watching her work, and Feyre tried her hardest not to meet his eyes, even as her cheeks turned pink.

“Well, it’s done bleeding, so that is good,” Feyre mumbled, dabbing against his skin. She dipped the rag in the water, the liquid turning a soft shade of pink as she brought the rag back to his skin. “But, it was a deep cut. You should no longer throw yourself over women. Being a hero could seriously endanger your handsome complexion.”

“So, you think I’m handsome?” he grinned. “And, you have changed your mind: you now admit I am, in fact, a hero.” 

Feyre glanced down at the man sitting on the foot of the bed below her. “I think you are an ass.”

“So you have mentioned,” he chuckled, allowing her to finish cleaning his wound.

The room was silent as she worked, but once a moment passed, she said, “Thank you...for helping me. I have done nothing to deserve that.”

“You deserve more than you believe you do,” he said, quietly. “I would know.”

“Oh?” Feyre asked, putting the bloodied rag in the bowl, having finished cleaning. “And why would you know?”

Rhysand watched as she took a step back and observed his newly cleaned wound. It would surely leave a scar, but certainly did not have to be sewn up. His smile softened, and Feyre did not allow him to see the effect such a look had on her. 

“I cannot share all of my secrets,” Rhysand said, quietly. Feyre suddenly felt as if the room had shrunk in size. 

Feyre chuckled, wiping her hands on her trousers as she sat in the wooden chair by the writing desk. “Why do I feel like you have many secrets?”

Rhysand lifted a brow. “Perhaps I do. But, secrets are not all bad.” 

“No?” Feyre asked. “I beg to differ.”

Rhysand chuckled. “Is that so?”

Feyre shrugged. The silence resumed, but Feyre could not sit still. “Well, I suppose I shall head home.”

“I’ll-”

“No, thank you,” Feyre interrupted, rising to her feet. “The manor is only a few miles up the road. I will cut through the woods, and all will be well.” 

“But I can-”

“You injured yourself for me,” Feyre said, shaking her head. “Rest. I have gone through the woods a hundred times, nothing has happened to me yet, and nothing will happen to me now.”

Rhysand opened his mouth to argue, but Feyre would not have it. “Goodnight, Rhysand.”

Before Rhysand could say goodnight, Feyre was already out the door, walking down the hall of the inn.

~~~~~

The sisters all came together the next morning for breakfast.

It was quiet as they picked at their plates.

Elain seemed overjoyed while Feyre seemed exhausted.

Nesta, however, eyed them both suspiciously. 

“Did you come to wake me last night, or was that just a dream?” she asked, quietly, staring at her youngest sister.

Feyre mumbled something that she could not quite make out, so she let it slide. 

“You were wearing men’s clothing,” Nesta went on.

Feyre scoffed. “I would do no such thing.”

“And you said that Elain was running off with the butler.” Elain dropped her fork, the silver clattering loudly against her plate. “Now, that is an interesting dream, Nesta. One that mustn’t be shared out loud.”

Nesta watched Elain suspiciously as her shaky hands grabbed her fork to resume eating her scrambled eggs. She swore she saw her sister glance at the butler along the dining room wall. 

“Hmmm,” Nesta said, taking a bite off her own plate. “My mistake. Must have been a dream after all.

“I hear there was an explosion at the gambling house in town last night,” Elain said, abruptly changing the subject. “Alis said there may have even been some deaths. Is that not horrible?”

Feyre looked at Elain. “Someone died?”

Elain cut up her smoked ham. “That is what Alis heard.”

Feyre said nothing more as she set down her fork and fiddled with her napkin.

“Truly horrible. If only people knew to stay away from such obscene places,” Nesta began. “Anyway, I hear Lord Rhysand is back in town, Feyre. Were you aware?”

Feyre sighed. “No.”

“Well, I just sent out a letter not long ago, inviting him over for supper. I even told him he could stay here, if he so wished.”

Feyre’s eyes darted up and she stared at her oldest sister. “Pardon?”

Elain chewed slowly, staring back and forth between the two of them.

“Since papa is gone, I thought it my role, as the eldest, to decide such matters,” Nesta said.

“You could have asked,” Feyre said, between clenched teeth.

“Truly, Nesta,” Elain began. “It would have been respectable of you to at least ask Feyre before-“

“Lord Lucien has been invited, as well.”

Elain blinked, words falling short. “Has he?”

“He has. I know father wishes for us all to be wed as soon as possible, since the days are going on and we are not becoming any younger.”

“How thoughtful of you,” Elain said. She smiled, but it looked forced. “When will they be joining us?”

“This evening, of course,” Nesta said, dabbing her mouth with her napkin. “Supper will be served at seven.”

~~~~~

Elain looked in the mirror, admiring Alis’ work. 

She had pinned up her hair with emerald pins in perfect ringlets. Her lips were tainted a soft pink, as were her pale cheeks. She was dressed in a golden evening gown. 

It was beautiful.

She was beautiful.

She was dressed to impress her future husband. 

Azriel hadn’t pulled her aside all day, and she had made herself perfectly scarce in all of their familiar places. Whether it was because he was busy or angry over Nesta’s announcement at breakfast, she wasn’t sure. She continuously hoped it was not the latter.

She heard the clock chime throughout the house, announcing it was half past six. Their guests would be arriving soon.

Lord Lucien would be arriving soon. 

She so desperately wished she could run to Azriel, could throw her arms around his neck, to sneak him away and share another beautiful night together, as they had for the second time the night before. 

The second time had been even greater than the first. They were not as shy, no longer tentative. There was no holding back as they made love beneath the stars, then lied awake in the silence and the peace that often ended far too soon. 

And it had ended, that peace, the instant Nesta had announced she had invited Lucien to supper. Because tonight Lucien would charm her. He would gain her trust and hope to further advance their courtship, because he was a kind, genuine soul, and their fathers had come to an understanding that this match was a sure thing.

He would propose.

And Elain, Lady Elain, would have to accept.

~~~~~

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