#a small part of me just thinks i have the right to pettily ask for a thank you

[tiny-chubby-bird]

you're welcome, astarion :)

[pumpkinstrawbrew]

I desperately want to draw Batcrow, but I’m unfortunately going through an art block right now. If you don’t mind, I hope I can ask you for a prompt, since I do believe you are THE Batcrow shipper. Besides, I think it’s a win win, considering that there is little content of this pair, this would be a free treat, as I haven’t made any contribution in the tag yet. Any will do by the way, be it sensual; romantic; I’m down for it! And once I’m done, I’ll leave it in your mail teehee~

blocks are honestly a rather annoying thing. esp if you have free time an’ motivation, but no ability to do anything with it. that’s just evil of our brains. either way, i’ll be glad to help, if i can! an’ oh, that’s a real bandage of honor right here! hehe. [blushes] i’m happy to be your local batcrow preacher! i know there should be more of us scarebat believers out there. even if not all are vocal.

but alright, so prompt. i’m not sure what exact version you gravitate towards more or which one you like the most, i’ll do my best to try an’ give you fairly ‘loose’ concepts, that can be calibrated / tweaked into what you might be possibly aiming for. an’ ah, mailed in my in-box? i’m very honored! what a thing to log in to, it would be! 

so um, first on the menu is what bats can do with all those ropes / belts, that many jonathan’s have as part of their costume. i always feel like they are perfect for gripping an’ tugging an’ also if we take into account jon’s noose, it’s like bruce can press his fingers under the rope around his leg / waist / wrist an’ keep him in place by the noose or collar piece. jonathan doesn’t have a lot of things he can grab in return. bruce’s cape, his belt, the sharper ends of his gloves *if he have those pieces in his design* but that's like a stalemate. also touching that can be used in different manner, rougher or gentlier one. as a way to press foward or to confuse. i also always thought, that it's funny that in some comic versions, jonathan have so many ropes around him, that bruce can literally use these to tie him up, if he wanted to lol. costumes are really such a big part of superhero media, that it kinda upsets me a tad, when people keep complitly disregarding those in stories *less so in arts tbh* that's like hating extra toping to your ice cream. so many sexy an' intimate things can be done with it, esp bc in most other media, there isn't an actually reasonable way *besides idk, a halloween party* to make someone wear latex or specific piece of clothes, like mask or gloves.

marks. another bluntly intimate / sexy aspect about the whole superhero thing is how usually there is always a fight / a scuffle, a way to touch, that doesn't even always have to be fist to the face. personally, when i think about them actually leaving marks on each other *purposely or not*, i think that crane scratches a lot? the sheer fact that BTAS an’ earlier comic designs depict the ends of his gloves as lil claws can be such a good tool. or even jon’s exposed fingers in arkhamverse, where he has needles on the other hand. in turn, bruce can squeeze him pretty strongly, the sort of gesture, that makes skin burn, bones ache, but if they do it during intimacy, be it a kiss or smth more heated, that’s like a try to attempt an’ communicate things. funny enough, i don't think that any of them are esp bitey *besides vampire AU* but then again, bit lip or tongue? or just generally small bite. maybe, jon can bite bruce's hand lol. he's not above it, i imagine. as well, as bruce won't be above to pettily shove his fingers deeper into his mouth or bite him in return lol. just pure shock of them being childish toward one another, but also like....lol, he's biting me. what. no one does that.

them reacting to each other’s compliments. while crane’s way of complimenting bruce is always hilariously abrasive an’ not self-aware at all, i wonder what it might have been if jon was more focused on a certain aspect of him. like his arm muscles. or his face *what he can see of it if the mask is on* an’ actually be accidentally poetic about it. jon read a ton of books, he actually might have a way with words, usually he just doesn’t operate in that way. but scarecrow waxing poetry about bat an’ making bruce feel squirmy under compliments is a good thing to imagine. naturally, he gets a lot of praise as batman an’ bruce, but those are usually just super surface level vs someone, who stares at him an’ thinks that he’s the most attractive an’ alluring man, who ever lived lol. an’ in return, bruce showering jon in praise can make different versions of him take it differently, but all be blushy an’ confused to certain extend. batman finding a new method to ‘torture’ him like that be smth else. just compliment him till he makes a noise, like he’s dying, bc he can’t handle it. like closed off body language, lower heads, or general perplexed expression on either of them. heh. 

an’ this one for funzies, like how would jon carry bruce? bruce can do it with ease. jon is light an’ thin. but if it’s the other way around, could at least some versions of crane pull it off? not to drag the bat by the legs, but actually try an' hold his weight.

i hope, some of it might be helpful / inspirational enough. i’ve tried to keep fairly detailed, but also with a leeway for you to imagine, add smth of your own.

[rise-my-angel]

Confessional essay from an anon: despite framing him as a cruel monster most of the time, there were a few moments where I was reminded that Joffrey was just a child, and I felt awful about such a fact, because he has so much power and responsibility on his hands that he was not raised for even though that really should have been his parents main priority.

It was most noticable in a scene I remember with Tywin in the throne room. I don't recall the details, it's been a while since I last watched the series, but it was such a calm moment that had Joffrey asking questions a genuine child his age would ask and I sort of had this revelation of "oh shit, this is a child, and everyone is egging on his death, what the fuck?"

Because he was never raised properly on how to handle such power and responsibility but he still had that promise of "you will be king some day" which of course plenty of children were going to be excited about regardless if they have mental illness, which I would not be surprised if he had because of his true parentage and how genetics work.

I am a firm believer in not holding children responsible in the same way you would any grown person, and I genuinely think he shouldn't have been blamed as much as he did for his behaviour. It's the neglect of his "father" and the selfish acts and lack of responsibility by his mother that put him in the spot to be killed in such a horrific way. If one person, did the right thing earlier on and put their foot down none of the horrors would have occurred. But nobody did anything, either because of the fear or craving for that damn spiky chair.

I'm not saying forgive and forget obviously, but I think there is a reason a lot of the Starks are viewed as more humane. Because at least the executions they provide are quick and done by their own hands. The death Joffrey had would have been torturous. He did unforgivable things, but it doesn't feel like justice.

But when I expressed this I got funny looks, so...yeah...

It's funny you say this, because I have a scene where I feel exactly the same way. During the battle of Blackwater when Stannis's troops land outside the gates and Lancel comes trying to subtly tell Joffery that his mother has requested he come inside. And Tyrion tries to reason with him to stay, but he doesn't.

It's that look on his face, conflicted and scared and ends up leaving beacuse he's not brave enough to handle this. But it only reminds me, he's just a kid. No one ever prepared him for something like this. No one ever gave Joffery the time to learn how to lead into a battle like a man, and so when it falls on his shoulders, the first out he gets, he takes beacuse he's just scared and has no idea what he's supposed to be doing.

Of course it doesn't excuse the way he lies and takes credit for what was Tyrions work and initial victory, but it's just a small moment where I'm like "Oh. He's still just a kid whose never truly been prepared to do anything like this in his life." Some might be brave enough to push through it, but neither Robert nor Cersei ever did anything to teach him how to be brave enough to push through it.

He aggressively attacks and threatens Arya, only to later stand in front of everyone in the Inn arguing with her about what happened so childishly that he pettily just tells her to shut up when he can't think of anything good to argue back with.

Obviously, something here was never right with him, considering that raised with the same parents and environment, Tommen and Myrcella turned out to be genuinely good, innocent children. But it's like Ramsay. Clearly Ramsay was born with something wrong in his head, but being raised with Roose Bolton as his father only enhanced and encouraged the worst parts of him, and the same is clear with Joffery.

He would've never been a good person and certainly not a competant King, but there is the wonder of those moments when he's clearly still just a boy who was never raised to be prepared for this.

He became an uncontrollable monster when he had the power to do so without punishment. But like Tyrion tells Cersei, "It's hard to put a leash on a dog, once you've put a crown on it's head."

They only tried to control and teach him AFTER giving him the ultimate power. When it's their fault for not even considering doing so way before then. And his death is very clearly designed to make you feel for him. It is horrific and never once does the show nor book act like it's a moment to celebrate. It is scary to watch and it's a horrific, torturous way to die that he didn't deserve. Because no one deserves that.

There's something that was always seriously wrong with Joffery and the world in the series is a better place without him, but at what point do we also hold the adults around him responsible, for allowing him to turn out the way he did?

[electricbluebutterflies]

kissing the top of their head as you hold them

Late-era Jessica/Leto, PG-ish, also on ao3.

She’s everything.

It has been… a good portion of his life since he first had that thought, and it has not happened enough in the time since. How easy it is to normalize what should be extraordinary, how effortless she makes it all look even though he knows better, how-

Even now, so many years in, Leto is not entirely sure how much of his affections are genuinely reciprocated. Even now, he still tries.

He’s not good at this – always thought respectful coldness would make an ideal relationship, never hoped for more, and then she happened and lit up his world in vibrant colors and oh he’s at least figured out that no one planned on that part. There are questions he has accepted are well beyond his potential understanding, but he is sure enough that whatever purpose she was once given did not include…

There is always the risk that this may all be some grand manipulation, but he’d like to think he knows her better than that. And if it is, if the past sixteen years have all been more structured than he thinks…

This is no time for such useless fear, not in a stolen quiet moment. She’d slipped into his spaces to give an opinion he hadn’t quite asked for on a minor administrative issue – it is obvious enough that his partner does not like people in general, but her tolerance levels do vary and she does have her petty biases – and she’s still here minutes later, still claiming space and aware that no one else will enter this room while she is in it, still-

“Did you need something else?”

“I’m giving you time,” she replies, and of course she is, of course she’s… if he ever pointed out how thoughtful and almost affectionate she is, she’d probably glare at him in a way that would mortally wound anyone else, but she does have her moments of almost being likable. A small rose hidden by countless thorns, he thinks sometimes, the ominous quiet of a winter storm, the beautiful dresses she wears without being asked anymore and the sharp objects in their seams and-

“Is that a concern?”

“There is no catastrophe waiting in these walls. I’m making sure no one tries to convince you otherwise.”

Protective, he’ll say that much out loud at times. Always damningly self-motivated, and he can never quite figure out what she’s up to or what she wants at any given moment and… somewhere along the line he accepted that uncertainty. If he needs to know, on the rare occasions he does need to know, she has been impeccable with communication. Otherwise… plausible deniability is a strange thing to build so much of a life on, but they’ve made it work, they’ve-

“Am I supposed to believe you actually want a moment’s quiet?”

She gives him one of those looks, her composure slipping long enough that someone less familiar with her default behavior might think there’s an actual person under today’s cocoon dress, like there are not words she’s ever heard to cover how pettily frustrated she is right now, like she’d pick a fight for the pleasure of it but it’s just slightly too early in the day, like-

“Would that be too much for you?”

“For me, no. For you…”

Neither of them knows how to stand still for more than a few heartbeats. He’s adapted to circumstances undesired but fated; in a similar way, he supposes she’s done the same. Their dynamic may be the only rebellion either of them ever finds, otherwise perfectly cooperative, otherwise-

“I am infinite,” she replies after a few heartbeats, confident as ever. “And I want what I want.”

That may be a distinct understatement, he thinks, but-

“If it makes you happy,” he replies, the practiced response of a man who has given up.

At least the volatility of her moods is rarely his problem anymore; he is not suicidal enough to say that time has softened her, but that has been a mercy granted to both of them, his own idealism slowly muted in a similar tempo to her fury, both of them still stubborn nightmares and sometimes he thinks he may have chosen her as he has because it would not do for either of them to be inflicted on some more innocent heart and-

She moves closer as she has not been for the past few minutes – when she does not want touch, she makes herself very clear – and reaches for his hands, and they are nothing if not the same, and-

He kisses her forehead, the slight height difference between them just enough for it to work if she tilts her  head down at the right moment, just slightly awkward even now and he can’t see her face from this angle but he knows she’s… maybe not smiling, she’s only allowed to do that once a year he’s pretty sure and she won’t waste it on him, but-

Warm. Eyes as soft as they ever are. She’s killed for him, she’s never admitted it but he knows, and she’ll die for him too if given half a chance, and somewhere deep in their past he did something he can’t remember to shift her loyalty completely and-

One and the same. Unsure where one ends and the other begins, even at their worst. Nothing without each other. Not what he ever planned for, not any concept of love he ever heard, but better for it.

“You’re avoiding something,” he murmurs, almost against her skin as she puts some of her weight on him.

“It might be in my favor if people think I spent most of the afternoon here,” she replies. “Memories can be blurred, but I do need some time to work with…”

Always, always up to something. Always running circles around him. Whatever he’s not asking about today, he trusts she’ll handle it before he even needs to know what she did.

“Of course.”

She lingers longer than she usually would, and eventually their arms end up around each other and… when she is soft, when she makes herself soft, there is so much beauty in her. Different than her sharpness, different-

“It’ll be alright,” she breathes. “Just a minor-“

“Don’t say. I know how good you are. It’ll be alright.”

[let-them-read-fics]

Dancing In The Dark

Pairing: Lisa x Fem!5thMember!Reader

Word Count: ~ 6,641 😌

Warnings / Misc. -- Angst, Language, Suggestive Themes, Fluff

Disclaimer: This writing is a work of fiction, and no disrespect is meant for those mentioned herein.

A/N: BOP BOP BOP 💃 Here's a Lisa fic for you guys!!! This isn't the request I got for her, but recent events inspired me to write this one and I really hope you enjoy it. More content will be coming in the near future :) Thank you all for the continued support, and as always... ♡ Happy Reading ♡

Follow-Up Part: Worth It

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Tense isn't quite good enough of a word to describe how you've spent the past week and a half. For some reason unbeknownst to you, Lisa's been hostile and standoffish whenever you've tried to communicate, always giving you short answers and snide remarks instead of being mature and confronting you about whatever issue she has. So, of course, it's only natural for the bitterness to have rubbed off on you as well. 

What's worse is that you're not even sure why you're fighting. Anytime you rack your brain for a reason to explain the anger, you come up with nothing. 

"Are we still on for practice later?" You ask, picking up a piece of bacon from the breakfast tray that sets on the counter. 

"I'll be there." She says simply, not even bothering to look up from the bowl of cereal she decided to grab. You clench your jaw and give a curt nod, determined to give her the same energy she's giving you. 

Jisoo notices the air of aversion that's quickly taking over the room, so she speaks up in an attempt to lighten the mood. "I can't wait to meet more Blinks at our fansign later this week. Aren't you guys excited?" The mere thought of meeting your supporters makes the unnie unbelievably happy, and all the hard work seems worthwhile. 

Despite herself, Lisa lightly grins and mutters a phrase of agreement around her mouthful of food. 

"At least they know how to make conversation." You respond pettily, glancing across the counter at Lisa as you take a bite of your bacon.

"I know how, Y/N. I just lack the desire to do so," she shrugs, seemingly unaffected by the cold words that slip past her plump lips. 

You click your tongue, now used to her behavior. Had this been one of her first times saying something like that, you probably would've been sadder than you currently are.

"Awww," you coo. "You come up with that one on the spot? You'll have to do better than that if you wanna hurt me." You lean against the marble countertop to whisper that last part, throwing a goodbye to Jisoo as you set off to your room to get ready for the day. 

Later That Day -- 7:49 PM

The bright red numbers displayed above the elevator doors tick on, changing with each floor you put behind you. A heavy sigh bounces off the walls and you rub the back of your neck for comfort. 

Why does Lisa have to be such a good dancer? The only reason you arranged this practice with her in the first place is to ensure that you know all the proper choreo for your upcoming Inkigayo performance. Your fans matter more to you than any disagreement you could be in, and you're determined to put on the best show possible for them. Lisa just so happens to be a critical factor in that process, unfortunately.

"Level 6," an automated voice announces before the sleek doors open, revealing a nearly uninhabited floor of practice rooms. They branch off on both sides of the long hallway that stretches out before you, and you get started on your journey down it. The only occupied studio sets at the end, emitting a soft glow through its translucent door as one of your song's choruses thumps through the speakers. 

You don't bother to knock before walking in, far past keeping up with the niceties any longer. Lisa's eyes dart from the wall of mirrors that borders the front of the room to glance at you, momentarily stilling her movements. 

"Don't let me stop you," you say, moving your hand in a "shoo-ing" motion at her until she picks back up with the song. You turn around to shut the door and take off your jacket, missing the way her eyes slowly rake over your body. 

You join her in the middle of the room, making sure to stay far enough away so that neither of you accidently hit or bump into each other as you run through the songs. The next hour or so is spent doing just that, repeating the ones you have issues with until you're performing the moves expertly. Every approving nod and shout from Lisa works to boost your confidence, and you actually find it a bit easier to enjoy yourself in her presence again. The two of you trade jokes, and sometimes it seems as if the hostility is fading away.

"You did well with all the other songs, so let's practice the one where we have the male backup dancers. I'll fill in for them." 

Your breath catches in your throat at the thought of Lisa dancing so sensually with you, but you quickly dismiss it and get into position. 

"From the top?" You ask over your shoulder, feeling her eyes on you as she approaches. 

"Of course." She says it like it's common sense.

The song starts up, and she sets her phone down on a nearby chair that she dragged closer earlier. She watches as you perform your solo moves, offering tweaks and scattered praises all the while. About midway through, the song shifts and she rolls her sleeves up in preparation. 

You take a deep breath as she settles behind you, reaching an arm around your front to rest her fingertips on your jaw. When the next hit of the sensual bass vibrates across the practice room, she coaxes your head to the side, moving hers forward just enough to brush her lips against your neck. 

You're aware of every twitch of her muscles, every breath she takes -- her body is flush up against yours, radiating that heat that you've missed so much. Her heart beats quickly like yours, and you can feel the way it pounds against your back.

Perhaps this is the moment you should step away; some distance is sure to clear the fog that settles over your brain, clouding your judgment more than ever. But she's holding you like she used to, and you can't muster up the energy to put an end to something that feels so good. 

"Arms up," she coaches, lifting your hands above your head before trailing her fingers back down your arms, lower and lower until they skim over the warm skin of your abdomen. In one fell swoop, she tangles her thumb into one of the belt loops of your jeans and uses her other hand to assist you with the next move: a spin. Her hold is steady, and your hair cascades over your shoulders as you lean your head back, twirling effortlessly. Given that your eyes are closed, you fail to notice the way she traps her bottom lip in between her teeth, doing all she can to keep dancing and not kiss you. You feel her palm press to the small of your back as her arms tighten around your waist, allowing you to dip towards the ground without falling.

"Good, just like that." The praise is like music to your ears as she raises you back up, and she audibly swallows when she sees how mussed your clothes have become from dancing. 

Turning your attention back to the front, you meet her gaze in the mirror; it's calculated and intimidating, but she looks aroused. You watch as her eyes scan over your body, lingering in the places that she's spent hours worshiping before. A smug smile tugs at your lips; despite being mad, her attraction to you is undeniable. With that in mind, you decide to tease her; in time with the music, you push your hips back. 

"I think I still need help with this next part." You purr, lulling your head back to rest against her shoulder as you slowly drag your hands over your body. Lisa lets out a low moan when you arch your back, grinding your ass further into her while you innocently toy with the buttons of your shirt. Having her in such a state is great enough, but knowing that you're the reason she's so turned on is something else entirely.

"Y/N…" she warns, biting the inside of her cheek to suppress anymore noises that run the risk of selling her out. 

"Lisa…" you tease back, playfully matching her tone as you watch her face scrunch up in response to the way you wind your body along to the music. 

She turns you around, her grip on your hips tightening as she works hard to restrain herself. Your chest rises and falls with slightly hurried breaths, partially from the dancing you've been doing and partially from the effect she has on you. Keeping her hands from roaming is proving harder than she imagined it'd be, and her mind goes into overdrive to find a way to make sure things don't slip too far out of her control. 

Her plans are stalled when you grab the material of her shirt in your fists, lightly yanking her forward by the collar of it until her lips ghost dangerously close to yours. You fake her out, only allowing them to brush against each other for a moment before you tilt your head and drop your mouth down to her neck. 

As you begin to leave a light hickey on her pulse point, she somehow manages to come to her senses and knows what she has to do. It was a hard fought battle, though, and part of her still wants to relent and let you have your way with her. 

She puts her hands on your shoulders and shoves you backwards, being careful not to push too hard. The look in her eye is predatory, and you'd be lying if you said it didn't thrill you. 

With every advancing step she takes, slow and deliciously torturous in its nature, you take one backwards, only stopping when the cold surface of the mirror presses against your skin. 

"You wanna know why I've been short with you?" Her darkening eyes scan down to your lips before coming back up to look into yours as she waits for your answer. 

Why would she bring that up right now? The question sours your mood, effectively ruining the moment -- that's exactly what Lisa wanted (she's still bothered by whatever's been plaguing her lately, and as much as she wants you, she can't get over it yet).

"Yeah, because it's really unfair. I haven't done anything wrong." The anger and hurt you've been feeling for the past week returns now, bubbling up in your chest when the memories of some of her more harsh words replay in your mind. Your voice conveys the growing irritation you feel, but Lisa’s expression remains unreadable. The effects of your desire are beginning to border on frustration now, dancing on the line as they threaten to cross over it.

"I didn't particularly appreciate finding you at the studio with Jung-hoon when you were supposed to be with us."

A singular exhale leaves you, short and unbelieving as you roll your eyes.

"That's what this is about?" You scoff. "You know I was held back to record my part for the newest track; and besides, I wasn't even that late to dinner. The girls weren't mad, so why are you?" Your arms come up to cross over your chest defensively, and you narrow your eyes at her.

"You should know." She says it like it's the most obvious thing known to man.

"Well clearly I don't, Lisa, so why don't you enlighten me?"

"You're so oblivious," she bites back, rolling her eyes like you just had, "He's practically in love with you."

"What?"

"You heard me. He doesn't even try to hide it. Why else do you think he made sure to schedule you for the last slot of the day? He wanted to get you alone." Her tone is laced with bitterness, and a grimace crosses her face. Even the thought of him puts her off.

"So what if he did? I'd rather be talking to him than getting this shitty treatment from you." 

"Is that so?" She challenges, pursing her lips with a tut as she tilts her head up. 

"It sure is. You'd never know it, considering you seem to hate him so much, but he's actually pretty nice. He even bought me a tea when I complained about my throat being sore that night."

"He sounds like a winner," she says sarcastically, voice void of sincerity as it drips with contempt instead, "Why don't you go spend some time with him, then, if I'm just so horrible to be around?" 

You shake your head as a humorless laugh slips past your lips. She's unbelievable. Before you can think of a good response, she continues her train of thought. "Maybe he'll bribe his way into your pants like he's been trying to for the past month. Tell me, Y/N, would he have to buy you dinner first? Or would another tea suffice?" 

The second those words leave Lisa's lips, her chest tightens; she draws a breath in, keeping it held tightly in her lungs as guilt begins to course through her. She feels the aftershocks of her statement in the painful silence of the room, and she finds it nearly impossible to look you in the eye for more than a few seconds at a time. 

Her words slowly sink in, rendering you momentarily speechless as you simply blink a few times. Your eyebrows sit higher up now, aiding your slack jaw in conveying the surprise you feel. You have to fight the urge to shove her; had you reverted back to being the less mature version of yourself from your teenage years, you would've done so in a heartbeat. But you're older now, and you realize your words and actions have consequences; clearly she hasn't learned that quite yet.

"Lisa, I'm gonna make this as simple as I can for you: if you ever say something like that to me again, we're going to have some real problems… You're such an asshole."

"I shouldn't have--"

"No, you shouldn't have. But you did. And I don't know what the hell has gotten into you lately, but it needs to stop."

"I'm sorry."

Her apology feels meaningless right now, and it falls on deaf ears. You don't allow yourself to believe she means it -- maybe she does, maybe she doesn't; regardless, she might try to sweet talk her way into forgiveness if you stay here right now, and you can't let that happen. "I don't think it's smart for me to be here -- not after that. I'd appreciate it if you didn't talk to me when you get back to the dorm later, either." The conversation sounds more formal than you're used to with Lisa, but it's fitting given everything that's happened. Her eyes remain trained on the floor as she nods sheepishly; she's ashamed of herself.

When you stride over to retrieve your coat from its resting spot, the sound of your shoes hitting the hardwood echo around the rehearsal room, serving as the only noise to cut through the tense silence. It's like a hot knife through butter, and Lisa feels her heart break a little more with each passing second. Your footfalls are a bit heavier than normal now, and you pop your knuckles out of habit to soothe yourself. 

She stops herself from reaching out to you as you brush past her on your way to the door. Had things gone her way, none of this would've happened at all: she even planned to apologize and attempt to make things official with you tonight -- but life always seems to deny us of what we want most. 

The handle's smooth surface rests in your palm as you linger in the doorway, keeping your back turned to her. You're not sure what you're even waiting for in the first place. When Lisa remains silent, unable to think of a fitting way to rectify the situation, you nod to yourself and slip out of the room. 

The dancer releases a breath now that she's alone, and she runs her hands over her face. Her dislike for Jung-hoon was never meant to override her love for you, and it sure as hell wasn't meant to get in between the two of you. In some ways, Lisa's still that young girl she used to be when you first met as trainees: she still gets jealous and annoyed when she doesn't get what she wants, and although the years have made her far more mature than what she once was, old habits truly do die hard. She blames herself for hurting you, but she doesn't blame herself for disliking him. On one hand, you're completely innocent in the situation and undeserving of what she put you through -- she should have trusted you; but on the other, she can't help but be angry at him for trying to steal you away. You're hers, if only in her dreams, and he has no right to flirt with you like that. 

So, with hundreds of thoughts swirling around in her mind, Lisa decides to do what she does best; for the next couple hours, she remains at the studio, releasing the pent up tension and frustration she's been holding in for so long.

~~~~

Back At The Blackpink Dorm

"Can today get any worse?" You groan loudly, tugging at your hair out of frustration. The worn pages of your song book flutter slightly as you push it off of your lap, sending it onto the bed with a soft thump. A couple minutes later you hear movement in the hallway, and you decide to investigate. Carefully, you feel your way through the dark and eventually reach your bedroom door, which you subsequently open. 

"Help me look for some candles, please." Jisoo requests from the hallway, just a little ways away from you. A small flashlight is clutched in her hand, and its surprisingly bright beam does well in illuminating the shelves of the closet as she searches through it. You retrieve a spare light from her before making your way down the hall to search the bathroom. 

"We probably won't have power until tomorrow night; maybe even later. The storm caused a blackout and parts of the grid are down right now. At least that's what management told me." She informs, raising her voice slightly so you can hear her well. She doesn't have to try too hard, though, considering a blanket of silence has fallen over the dorm; with no power, no appliances offer any background noise to drown out the jarring quietness.

Steady sheets of rain pound against the window of the bathroom, momentarily stealing your attention away from the task at hand. As inconvenient as storms of this caliber can be, it's hard not to be in awe of the power of mother nature; occasionally, bolts of lightning streak across the sky in various places, offering a peek at the angry clouds that loom overhead. It's almost like peering into another world: the vivid colors of the lightning contrast with the darkness of the sky, making it appear as a raging sea as the clouds trek across it in waves. 

"I'm already cold." The distant sound of Jennie's voice pulls you from your thoughts, and you release a sigh as you draw open more cabinets. She and Rosé are now seemingly out in the hallway, talking with Jisoo about the storm and how you're all going to deal with it. For a moment you wonder why Lisa hasn't joined them; perhaps she's asleep and didn't even notice the power go out. 

Unbeknownst to you, the maknae hasn't done much of anything besides overthinking. Ever since she came home earlier, she's abided by your wishes: she kept quiet during dinner, and retreated to her room without so much as a word to you. It hasn't been easy by any means, and her heart has been aching to apologize to you -- she wants to make things right, but upsetting you further isn't a risk she's willing to take. So now, she lays in bed, staring up at the ceiling as she listens to your other members talk out in the hall. 

"I found these," you approach them, holding up a few medium sized candles that Rosé bought for when you guys need a spa day. 

"Ah, not the good ones!" She whines, disappointed that the luxury items have to be wasted for such a lame purpose. 

"We could always just sit in the dark," you remind her with a chuckle, quirking a small smile at how she's acting. She seems to forget that you guys are rich and completely capable of getting plenty more of them. 

"No, I'll order more," she sighs, adding, "...just don't use all of them." 

"Aye aye, captain," you salute, grinning wider when she lets out a soft laugh. 

"Let's go set the stuff up in the living room," Jisoo says, slipping in between the two of you on her way. When you raise an eyebrow at the other girls, Jennie speaks up, "We might as well just hang out there. We can stay warmer that way and not die of boredom." 

You cock your head to the side and nod after considering the offer, quickly deciding that you have nothing better to do anyway. "What about Lisa?" You ask, the waver in your voice going unnoticed by either of them. From inside her room, Lisa holds her breath, tensing up as she waits to hear their answer. 

"I think she's sleeping, so we don't have to wake her up right now. She'll realize it's out eventually." 

You seem to accept her answer, and Lisa relaxes into the cushions of her bed as she hears three sets of footsteps getting further and further away. There's no way she can face you yet -- she's still working on a good enough apology. Besides, pretending that everything's okay was hard enough at dinner -- the girls were growing suspicious, so it's only a matter of time before they ask about it. None of you like to see each other sad, but there really seems to be a soft spot in all of their hearts for you: they always try to keep you happy and protected in order to repay you for taking such good care of them. You may not be the oldest unnie, but you're dedicated to your members, and their loyalty isn't something to be taken lightly. That undisputed fact works to make Lisa even more nervous; she knows she's been bad to you, and the girls aren't afraid to give her a piece of their minds. Their combined disappointment is only rivaled by her own, and she knows she'll have to work hard to get things back to where they used to be with you. 

~~~~~

As you wash your hands in the bathroom sink, you take in the sight of your reflection staring back at you. Bags rest underneath your eyes from what little sleep you've gotten so far, not quite dark enough to make you cringe but visible enough to show that things aren't going your way. You and the girls spent what was left of the evening chatting and playing board games to keep yourselves entertained, but eventually sleep became unavoidable and you retired to the large pillow fort that the 4 of you had constructed earlier. Without any power going to the dorm's heater, you've been forced to rely on extra blankets and each other's body heat to stay warm. 

A glance at your watch lets you know that it's a little after 3AM now, and you can only hope to fall back asleep soon. Your mind is exhausted from all the thinking you've been doing -- the toll it's taking on you coming through as a physical pain, pulsing steadily to remind you of everything that's happened -- but somehow sleep doesn't seem to be attainable. Despite being so drained, your body and mind would rather stay at odds than just compromise and let you rest. It's like something is telling you to stay awake -- like some quiet voice with ulterior motives is calling on you to look beyond yourself and fight sleep. Whatever the reason may be, you're annoyed with it. 

Frigid water meets your face, stealing the warmth away from your cheeks as it slides its way downward. You lean against the sink, sighing softly as your chilly fingers press into your temples and rub small circles into the skin there. The storm continues to rage on outside, drawing parallels to the war being waged in your heart. You're torn. Part of you is so overcome with the love you hold for Lisa that you just want to forget she even said anything at all -- you almost care more about having things go back to the way they once were than the fact that she's been breaking your heart more and more everyday. But another part of you is tired of her shit -- she shouldn't be able to get away with saying that to you, and you're strong enough to stay away from her until she steps up and makes things right. It's hard, no doubt, to keep your distance when she's the one person you want to be with most in this world, but you respect yourself enough to set a standard for what type of treatment you're willing to accept. 

As if on cue, a loud burst of thunder roars out, quite literally shaking the house with how strong it is. You jump, feeling your blood run cold at the unexpected scare. A yelp from the living room can be heard, and you have to bite your lip to contain the snicker that threatens to escape; you love Jennie to death and hate to see her frightened, but sometimes it's funny. Comfort comes to the brunette in the form of soothing words groggily whispered by the other girls as they hold her close. 

For what seems to be the millionth time tonight, Lisa crosses your mind; should you check on her? Despite what Jennie had suggested earlier, the maknae failed to leave her room at all. You wonder if she's cold; surely she is, considering she didn't have many blankets in her room to bury herself under. Worrying is apparently your strong suit, because the thought of her staying curled up in bed to grant your wishes, alone and shivering, saddens you beyond belief and convinces you to see how she's doing. 

After drying your face and hands, you sneak back to the living room and grab the fluffiest blanket you can find. Your feet dodge the creaky spots in the floorboards, having already memorized them after years of tiptoeing to the kitchen in the early hours of the morning for snacks. Before long, you stand in front of her door and attempt to prepare yourself.

Lisa's eyes fly closed as she hears the door to her room being opened. The weathered metal hinges groan slightly with effort; over the years, it's been thrown open in times of excitement and subjected to it's fair share of slamming during arguments. 

She does her best to play the part, but her act almost falters when she feels your soft hand brush her hair out of her face. The pad of your thumb strokes her cheek slowly, and she can practically feel all the emotion your gaze holds. Her eyes remain closed as you reach out to feel her arms, making sure they aren't frozen solid from being exposed to the chilly air. The fact that you still care enough to make sure she's comfortable makes her feel even more guilty, and her eyelashes have to work twice as hard to keep her tears from escaping. They dampen as the salty liquid builds up, serving as a dam that could break at any moment, but thankfully you don't notice. You splay the cover over her and tuck it slightly, leaving her plenty of room for movement -- you remember her telling you in passing that she doesn't like being tucked in completely because it makes her feel restricted. 

Her breath hitches as your hands fiddle with the collar of her shirt, fixing the ruffled material so that it covers her better. The bed dips as you sit down next to her, letting your eyes trail over her body. 

"How can you sleep right now?" You whisper out, thinking she's lightyears away in dreamland. A stray tear rolls down your cheek, but you're quick to wipe it away. 

"You're so stupid Lisa," you breathe out, releasing your lip from between your teeth. "I can't believe you think I'd want to be with Jung-hoon and not you."

"But hey," you say with a bitter laugh, the sound almost inaudible in its softness, "I guess I'm the oblivious one, right?" 

After spending a few more moments torturing yourself, you slowly stand up and return the blankets to the state they had been in before you sat down. Unable to resist the urge any longer, you lean down to press a kiss to her forehead. You have no idea where the two of you will stand with one another when she wakes up, and you want to have this memory before you're forced to be at odds again. 

As you push your tired body up, prepared to turn around and leave, you're instead met with her deep brown eyes peering up at you.

You freeze, feeling your muscles tense up as the tears in her eyes become more visible. Her features look even more beautiful now, somehow, in the pale moonlight that streams into the room. It's lustrous, seeming to sparkle as it casts down on her perfectly, kissing every inch of exposed skin that it can. She looks like a dream, and for a second you wonder if you're just imagining this. Her skin appears even softer than usual in the gentle glow of the room, but she looks as striking as ever with her defined collarbone and sharp jawline standing out. You feel her hand brush against your wrist, and you're reminded of all the times she would draw you in close and kiss you until you were breathless. 

"How much of that did you hear?" You swallow, a slight nervousness taking over now as you run a hand through your hair. 

"Enough," she utters simply, indulging herself in a few more seconds of the intimate staring contest you were in before breaking eye contact to sit up in bed. She leans back against the headboard and pulls her feet in some to give you plenty of room to sit. Selfishly, she wishes you'd sit right next to her again; she can't say she's surprised when you put a little space between the two of you though, opting to sit further down on the mattress. 

Neither of you say anything for a little while, too busy trying to locate the right words and how to phrase them. The situation is delicate, and neither of you want to mess it up; Lisa's more afraid to speak than you are, but she eventually finds her voice.

"I know sorry doesn't cut it, nor does it solve anything. But I really am sorry. I didn't mean for it to come out how it did, and I haven't been treating you right for awhile now."

"You can say that again," you quip, nodding singularly. 

She sighs, a bit discouraged by your demeanor but still just as determined. 

"Seeing you with him just scared me, Y/N. I know I have no right to be jealous, but that's exactly what I was. When I saw the way he was looking at you and sitting so close… it just hurt. A lot. I like you more than I want to admit, and you're completely capable of pulling anyone you want. Especially a 2 like Jung-hoon." 

You almost smile at that last part: even when apologizing, she can't help but clown on him. 

"That was a fucked up thing to say, back at the studio. It made me feel cheap, Lisa, and I never thought you would be someone who'd make me feel like that. I don't care if it was in the heat of the moment or not -- it was uncalled for." It feels good to finally voice your feelings to her, and you don't waste time by skirting around them or softening the blow.

"You're right, and I wish you could understand how much I regret it. I wanted to run after you so bad… you have no idea. I regretted it the second it came out of my mouth." She hangs her head now, feeling the shame rise in her at the thought of her past actions.

"You can dislike Jung-hoon as much as you want, but you're right about one thing: you have no right to be jealous. I refuse to be your reason for hating someone, especially when your logic is as flawed as it is." 

She can sense that you have more to say, and she's more than willing to listen; so, she waits for you to continue. 

"First of all, you and I aren't dating, Lisa. And even knowing that, you still didn't trust me, evidently. I don't owe you anymore of an explanation than the other girls, but I'll give it since you seem to want it so bad: we really did just work on the song. He was nice to me and treated me well, but he never overstepped or made me uncomfortable. Regardless of whether he likes me or not, he was kind; the same can't be said for you." Your voice is taut with the pain you've been through because of her, and the brutal honesty behind your words hangs heavy in the air. 

"I deserve that one. But can you please try to see it from my point of view? When you're in love with someone, it's easy to get jealous," your heart pounds harder at her use of that four letter word, but you don't let it show, "...especially when the other person isn't even yours to begin with. At least that's how it works for me. I feel like I have to work extra hard to keep your focus on me, because I'm afraid anyone can come by and take you away. You have no obligation to even be with me."

"I may not have an obligation to, Lisa, but that doesn't mean I don't want to be with you. Do you know how excited I was to finally get home and see you and the girls that night? I was dying to pull you into the kitchen and sneak a kiss when I was grabbing my plate. But you'd never know that, because you cared more about your insecurities than believing me."

"Wow." Your confession surprises her, and the simple utterance is all she can manage at the moment.

"Yeah." You say, solidifying your words. 

"I really am an idiot, aren't I?"

"To put it kindly, yes."

She pauses for a beat or two to really process your words. "Can we get past this?" She asks gently, playing with the frilly edge of the blanket you brought in earlier that's now worked its way down into her lap.

"I think so," you say honestly, releasing a steadying breath, "but you have to work for it." 

"I will, everyday. I want us to be okay again." 

"I do too, Lis. I really do." Her gaze softens at the nickname, and she can tell you're being truthful. 

"Can I ask you something?" 

"You just did." 

"I-" She starts, only to be cut off by the small giggle you let out.

"Shoot, Manoban."

"Does this mean I can ask you to be my girlfriend?" She notices the way your face falls as you begin to stutter out a response, so she quickly clarifies, "Eventually?" 

"Eventually," you affirm, thankful that she understood that you're not quite ready yet. You crack a small smile as you say, "So long as you don't give me a reason to say no in the meantime." 

The two of you share a much needed laugh, happy to finally begin clearing the air between you. 

Not long after, Lisa says, "One more thing, Y/N." 

You lift your head to look at her and respond, but her lips meet yours before you get the chance to say a word. The surprised noise you make is muffled, but it soon gives way to something crossed between a sigh and moan as her hand travels up your thigh. It rests there, the heat of her palm seeping through the material of your pants as she waits to see how you react, still pressing innocent kisses to your lips. She wants to continue, but you deserve to control the situation. 

Wordlessly, you tilt her head to the side to deepen the kiss, languidly moving your tongue against hers. It's a dance you've spent hours practicing before, and your bodies fall back into the familiar rhythm they've been craving for the past week and a half. When you take her hand and lead it under your shirt, allowing her to touch wherever she pleases, she lets out a guttural noise of approval that has you pressing your thighs together in search of friction. Already, Y/N? You think to yourself; she's barely touched you and you're already so responsive.

Lisa smiles at the shuddered breath she feels you release, and she tugs at your bottom lip to tease you further. 

"If you keep this up, that 'eventually' will come sooner rather than later," you say shakily, swallowing as you press your lips together. They taste like her, and you're convinced you're addicted. 

She lets out a throaty chuckle at that, the action garnering a smile from you. Your cheeks are flushed, and she secretly loves the effect she has on you.

"You're beautiful," she declares, the smile on her lips coming through in the phrase. She strokes your cheek with the back of her hand, and you let out a little "pshh" sound at her sweet comment. Taking compliments has never been something you're very good at.

Determined to show you that she's genuine, she takes your hand and places it against her chest, right over her heart. It beats wildly, untamed and unpredictable as her emotions course through her. "It always gets like this when I'm around you. I can't control it; you just drive me crazy." 

"You're really trying to kill me, huh? Soft Lisa is far hotter than petty Lisa, just so you know." You say, wrapping your arms around her neck. Her hands tighten around your waist as she pulls you into her lap, slowly grinning at your confession. 

"Noted. Now come here, baby." 

You close what little distance is left between you, not having to be told twice. Her lips move in time with yours as she flips you over, laying you on your back beside her. In your preoccupied state, you don't even realize that she's tucked your legs under the blankets and brought the material up to cover the two of you. 

"I'm gonna take care of you, okay? I'm done being an ass." 

"It's about time," you joke, rolling your eyes. "Better get to work if you want to lose your status as a dickhead by the end of this century." 

"Hey! Century? That's a little long, don't you think?"

"Tread lightly, Lisa," you warn, half teasing and half threatening. She catches a hint of the menacing look you send her way, and quickly gets her act together. 

"Yes ma'am." She nods, attempting to contain the smile that tugs at her lips by pressing them against yours again. 

[spideyspeaches]

Gorgeous ↬ b.b

A/N: Props to @thefallenbibliophilequote​ for getting me into bucky XD (fic lowkey based on Taylor Swift’s Gorgeous.)

Warnings: smut :) very smut and nudity.

MINORS DNI

WC: 2.5k+

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader, Peter Parker & Reader (Platonic)

Masterlist || Taglist 

“Do you think he has a girlfriend?” You asked, sipping at the fairly bitter beer in your hand. Looking over your shoulder, you sighed, slumping on the counter of the bar you were in.  

You had been dragged along with your neighbour- Peter Parker, also known as the friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man, to a club right after an Avengers mission. You were no avenger, just a run in the mill overworked and underpaid preschool teacher. 

It had become customary for you to tag along with him to bars with the other Avengers, after you had discovered about his spidery abilities. You had always been close to him, he was your brother in everything but blood. You were after all, his bonafide babysitter/best friend. 

The others in his team had accepted you with open arms, a weird bond forming between you and them, accepting you as more than "Peter's hot neighbour" and more like a part of their team. 

One particular person seemed to have caught your eye. 

Cranking your neck to see his slumped figure, you smirked at his back, eyes tracing his broad shoulders and newly buzz cut hair. You hadn’t talked to him much, but from when you had, you found him to be very sweet. He was shy, rarely spoke and always in his own shell, cheeks rosy pink whenever you conversed. So different from what the media portrayed him as that you found it utterly confusing that such a man could be brainwashed and used as a murder machine. 

Your heart ached for him, for how misunderstood he was among the antis. You just wanted to hug the man and give him one big forehead smooch. But, oh were you brought back to reality with a hit that you couldn’t really do that without looking creepy.

"Who? Bucky?" Peter smirked, interrupting you from looking at him. Your willed your heart to stop racing and plummeting in your stomach. 

“I thought his name was James?” You said, tilting your head in confusion. From what you had read in a source, his name was James Buchanan Barnes-

“Yeah but Steve calls him Bucky, so everyone does too.”

“Oh, Bucky. Has a nice ring to it.” You nodded, ignoring his smug expression, “answer my question though. I’m not gonna hit on him if he already has a girlfriend. Wouldn’t be surprised if he did.” You grumbled the next part, trying to ignore the flare of jealousy you felt in your chest.

Peter had made it very apparent to you that he was fully aware of your humongous crush on the winter soldier. And that little shit never let go of it, even when you weren't anywhere near the vicinity of said winter soldier. 

"Why do you think I would know?" He scoffed, going back to sipping his own bottle of beer. Scowling at him, you opened your mouth, inhaling sharply. 

"I don't know, cause you practically live there?" You shrugged, trying to feign indifference. You knew he looked right through it, if his shit eating grin and flushed cheeks were anything if not confirmation. 

"Bold of you to assume he even talks to me. And anyway, he hates my guts, him and Sam always prank me, it's practically a routine." He said, rolling his eyes, swirling his bottle lazily, "why do you want to know that anyway?" 

"You know why." You hissed. Turning around, your breath hitched when you saw him staring at You, wondering if he was just staring at your general direction and if you were going to embarrass yourself by waving at him. 

Apparently he was looking at you, because you swore saw a tiny wave coming at your direction, a small smile playing on his face. 

“And what if he did?”

“What is it to you, kiddo?”

"You both disgust me. Bucky with his constant questions about you and you with your constant questions about him" Peter muttered sarcastically. Ignoring him, you sighed dreaming, slumping on the barstool, "don't you already have a boyfriend anyway?" 

“And what about him?” You grumbled, rolling your eyes at the mention of him. He was hardly a boyfriend, more of a fling, an excuse to stop the pain of being single (you were dramatic, you knew). You were over him, broken up not long ago, but Peter didn’t need to know that. You wouldn’t want Peter siccing himself at your worst enemies.

“What I know is that he’s one son of a bitch who doesn’t deserve to be anywhere near you. Why are you dating him again?” Peter said, snapping you out of your daze.

“Do you kiss your girlfriend’s pussy with that mouth?” You scowled, huffing pettily.

“I’m sorry, who’s girlfriend’s what?” Tony said, appearing out of thin air, his mouth hung as he gaped at you and Peter. You snickered at Peter’s flushed and stuttering form, counting that as one win tonight. 

“My girlfriend’s lips. Y/N’s stuttering cause she’s too busy staring at Bucky.” Peter said, fixing you with a look, his head tilted adorably, jaw clenched like the way it did when he was done with your bullshit.

“Hey I’m not staring at him! He’s just so gorgeous- look at him!” You giggled, watching him stumble from his stool, the alcohol in your veins making you braver than before. You had endured more than one round of teasing from the team about your very obvious crush on one Bucky Barnes, yet you went on with your babbling.

“Yeah yeah, you’ve said what what- oh a million times before!” Peter shrieked, hands up in the air, nearly dropping his bottle. Snatching his bottle, you drowned the remaining liquid, dropping it on the counter with a scow, “are you even old enough to drink?”

“Hey! Let me tell you, I’m turning twenty one in a week, or did you forget?” He said, ignoring Tony, who was shaking his head and grumbling something about being too old for this shit.

“Of course I didn’t forget kiddo.” You said, smiling sadly at him, ruffling his messy brown hair. Ever since you met him, you always loved playing with his hair. They were fluffy, just like your cat’s, “Who allowed you to grow up so fast?” 

“Y/n/n! I’m only four years younger than you!”

“Ugh don’t remind me.” It still iffed you to no end that the boy who was once nine years younger than you was now 4 years younger, nevermind that he was mature much beyond his age. Mind briefly averted from one Winter Soldier, you didn’t notice him sit down next to you, startled when he called for you. You didn’t even notice Peter giving you a look before Tony dragged him somewhere.

“Hey, you’re Y/n right? Peter’s-” He started, your brain short circuiting when you saw his piercing blue eyes- the most beautiful shade of blue you had ever seen, staring at you, a small smirk playing on his stubbled jaw. You gulped internally, clearing your throat and sitting straight.

“Neighbour? Yes that’s me.” You nodded enthusiastically, smiling as much as you could without cringing at your ecstatic behaviour. 

“I know.”

“Cool.” 

Shuffling in your seat, you opened your mouth to speak, only for him to speak before both of you were interrupted by your laughter. Getting yourself together, you gestured for him to talk, “go ahead.”

“So, should I buy you a drink?”

“Only if you let me buy you one.” 

And that’s how it started. One drink turned to another, and next thing you knew you were kissing him, his hands in your hair, the cold of his metal arm placed firmly on your bare waist as he bunched your t-shirt up in a fist.

For a moment you weren’t aware of your surroundings, the only thing you could feel was his t-shirt fisted in your hands, his freezing palm causing an eruption of goosebumps on your skin as the cold air of the room hit you full force. Panting, you scrambled for the door, holding his hands in the darkened room as you followed him blindly.

Crashing your lips to his once again, you moan under your breath, chest hitching as you scrambled for your shirt and bra, pulling it over your head as you watched him do the same, smirking at the very apparent bulge on his blue jeans. 

“Do you have a condom? You panted, tracing his biceps with your nails as you pulled him so that you were chest to chest, your nipples hardening as your bare chests made contact. You could feel your pussy throbbing, groaning at your already growing lady boner, the place between your thighs slick with wetness.

“In my pocket.” He answered, lifting you up as you wrapped your legs around him, throwing you on the bed with questionable stains. You moaned as he dropped his weight on you, his hands burning flames on your skin as he traced patterns on your bare arms, kissing you with a vigor. 

Your hands reached for his jeans pocket, fumbling to find the packet of condom while he traced his lips on your neck, nibbling at the curve of your shoulder, making you shudder with excitement.

“Are you sure you-”

“Yes. I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.”

“Whatever you say doll.” 

Your stomach coiled when he called you that, groaning in pleasure as he roughed you up with his hands, his jeans sliding off, leaving his bare thighs barely visible to your eye. His eyes were somehow still illuminated in the dark room, leaving you even more wet than before. You never knew his eyes could turn you on so much that he made you come even before he could slide inside you.

Thrusting your hips, you watched impatiently as he slid the condom on his hardened dick, asking you for permission once more before sliding into you, his hips thumping with yours as he gradually increased his pace, hitting your spot.

“You’re so beautiful, so pretty under me. Perfect little wet pussy you got there doll.” He whispered, closing his eyes as you continued to run your fingers through his hair, holding onto his back with one of your hands, nails digging into his flesh, unable to form any words.

“I’m close.” You moaned, rolling your hips with his as he continued to move, panting, one hand on the headboard and the other on your boobs, keeping you firmly planted on the shitty pub mattress as he kneaded the soft skin, the brush of his fingers on your pebbled nipple your last straw as you finally gave into your climax.

“You good?” He asked, his dick still inside you as you came all over him. Sliding out, you lay on the dirty sheets, your bare body shivering with the excessive hormones that took over you, realising that you had just fucked James Buchanan Barnes. 

“Yeah, I’m good, Great. Amazing. Wow I can’t believe this happened.” You said, holding the thin sheet up to your chest as you saw him in the dim lights. His chest was glistening with sweat, his hair stuck to his forehead as you saw him discard the condom in a bin. Biting your lip, you tried not to stare at his bare ass, clenching your thighs. 

He gave you a friendly smirk when he caught you, thankful for the dark room, for you couldn’t stand him looking at your burning cheeks. 

“You know you can look right?” He smiled, holding your cheek in his cold palm, your own palms sweating as he straddled you, his frame encompassing yours as he towered over you, your thighs already pulsing, begging for a round two as-

“Oh, oh jesus you have nice fingers.” You giggled as he inserted his two fingers in your pulsing core, jerking your hips as he navigated through your slick folds. 

“It’s actually Bucky, but Jesus would do too.” He said, silencing you with another kiss. He gave a throaty growl as you kissed him harder, slicking back his hair with one hand, scratching at his scalp with your nails. Smirking under the kiss, you continued to do so until he increased his pace, your throbbing core giving in to the stimuli.

It was somehow easy for you to forget that the man you barely knew had made you come twice in the same night.

“Do you- do you want to go out sometime? Preferably without that Parker kid trailing behind you like a puppy?” Bucky huffed, ceasing his movement to look at you, your mouth open, wiping the smudged lipstick with a finger. 

“Aw he has good intentions.” You smiled, licking your lips teasingly as he rolled his eyes, “admit it he’s a good kid.”

“Are you really talking about Parker while I’m fingering you?”

“What? Ew. No, just, he thinks you hate him.” You giggled, shifting on the sheets a little to release your straining pelvis from cramping. 

“I don’t hate him, he’s a good kid, but he’s also a little shit at times.” He said, a fond look in his eyes. Your heart clenched at his expression, slowly pulling out of his grasp as you flopped on the bed, turning and looking at him. 

“He do be like that sometimes. But to answer your question, yes I would love to go on a date with you.” You smiled, burying your nose in his neck, not even caring that some drunk people might walk in on you two. No one had so far, so you didn’t really care.

To say that you were whipped would be an understatement. You started visiting the compound more often, came to movie nights, spent more time with everyone (especially him). 

“No!” You laughed, giggling as he picked you up bridal style, “Bucky! Jeez put me down right this instant or I’ll stick fridge magnets on you!”

You were instantly dropped on your feet, sighing when you felt his arms circle your waist, pulling your back to his chest. The tower was empty, everyone going back to their respective workplaces. It was only the two of you. You could hear him hum under his breath.

“Fridge magnet? Are they those sticky things that stick on fridges?”

“Yes Bucky, that’s exactly what they are. I thought they existed in the 20s?” You scoffed, turning around, falling on his firm chest. Circling your hands around his waist, you pondered at how close you had gotten with him in just a few days. Heck, every time you visited, it felt like you were just growing closer, until you felt your relationship tying in a tight knot. With a snap, you realised that your life might as well be in ruins was he not yours at this moment. 

“Only rich people had them.”

Maybe you were going overboard with your feelings, maybe you were rushing things, but you didn’t mind. Getting close to people wasn’t always your strongest suit, but with this man, you didn’t mind having silent conversations. Until you could feel his fingers on every inch of your being. 

With your heart thudding in your chest, you realised that you could spend your entire life tightening the knot of your heart with his, listen to him breathe as you laid by his bedside, play silly games with him. You were in love with this man.

“What are you thinking about?” He smiled, still swaying in your embrace.

“Nothing much.”

A/N: the ending is a little questionable but lemme know what you think! Requests are open! :)

[sith-shenanigans]

So I… apparently forgot to link the last two Liminality chapters, whoops.

The House of the Dead, Part One (wherein there are post-Skotia briefings):

“Even in my time,” said Khem, “the minor Sith were too proud, scuttling about their small domains like the insect-creatures of Korriban. But they were not so pettily… civilized.”

It was still hard to imagine a version of the Sith that hadn’t authored civilization, invented politeness, and so stripped it away from everyone else like gravel in a mine. She didn’t believe Khem when he said there had been one. They had just written rules he approved of. “Less talking, more blood feuds?” Ahene asked, quirking an eyebrow at him.

“Yes. Your master and theirs would have come to blades long ago, in that Empire. If mine did not force them both to their knees instead. There would be no respect for a Sith who claimed her enemy had been killed by another. Especially if it were true.”

And there would have been no place at all, of course, for little trash apprentices who would rather sneak through an enemy base than lay waste to it. “I feel like there are downsides,” said Ahene, “to having people openly murder each other.”

“There was a Dark Lord to oversee it, then,” rumbled Khem, “and pass judgement on those who tried to take what they did not deserve. Now you have a sleeping Emperor in his place, and a Council that schemes and squabbles like masterless advisors.” He gave a snort of soft derision. “Tulak Hord’s inner circle was bitter enough. Twelve people cannot act together as Jen’ari.”

Ahene felt that this logic was questionable, but had no desire to defend the Council, either. Her idea of a proper government included ‘not being run by Sith,’ and that wouldn’t be a productive argument even if they weren’t in the middle of the Citadel. “Probably not, no,” she said. “I still don’t think more blood feuding would help.” And there was the right door, thank the Void. Zash had apparently already had a banner made up; it showed about two-thirds of an Imperial logo, pale red outlined in silver, with silver leaves covering the final third and crawling up from there. A black wreath, also with silver lines, hovered in a wide semicircle above. Below was a holocron-like triangle in the same colors, pointing down.

It was… very Zash. A snake probably would have been too on-the-nose.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/16797919/chapters/93437941#workskin

The House of the Dead, Part Two (wherein Ahene finally enters the Dark Temple):

“—has to be some shielded droid that wouldn’t fail,” Alaric was saying when he broke off. He looked over at them, hands still raised in exhortation. “Yes, soldier? What? Oh, glorious.” That, he said with apparently sincere relief, his lips splitting in a sharp, hopeful grin. “Finally. I’ve sent a thousand petitions—I had little hope Darth Arctis would ever read them. Are you one of his apprentices, then? You seem like a fine young Sith. Hard to get a read on how powerful you might be, through those shields, but I suppose that’s why you were sent. Here, come over, let the sergeant get back to his work. Sergeant Stonepour, you’re dismissed!”

Ahene came forward, trying to recover her mental footing. “Darth Arctis didn’t send me, my lord,” she said, with a shallow bow. “I’m Ahene, apprentice to Darth Zash. It’s an honor.”

“Darth Zash?” He waved a hand at Fizik as she moved to offer him the flimsi, and the captain reached out to take it instead. “Well, good for her getting promoted, I suppose, but Skotia’s not going to be happy if—” He pressed his lips together. “Oh. No. Skotia was her liege too, and Arctis doesn’t really like to sidelong-promote. Darth Skotia is dead, isn’t he?”

“Yes, my lord,” said Ahene. How can you not know that someone killed your liege?

Alaric grinned again, this time with vicious glee. “I suppose he got caught in that mess with Darth Jadus somehow? Well! It couldn’t happen to a better Sith. He handed me this mess, with no manpower, no resources, no response to any of my damn mail—I warned him this was serious, more serious than his political embarrassment, but he still wanted me to fail. To take the fall for his scheme, as if I didn’t tell every utter fool he gathered that this was a bad idea, and he’d only clean up once the last person who knew what he’d done was safely gone. Well, now I’ve outlived him, haven’t I?” He pressed his fingers together for a moment, clearly suppressing an undignified spate of laughter. The Force swirled around him, murderous and vicarious and elated. “Still. Still. I knew I’d been put in disgrace, I wouldn’t have full-exiled myself to this miserable camp if Skotia hadn’t wanted me dead—I’ve sent three assassins careening into ghost-madness by tearing them exempt from my wards, I have no illusions—but I feel like I should have heard of a chunk of dreadnought falling on him.”

Fizik cleared his throat. “My lord,” he said.

“Oh,” Alaric said. “Right.” He sighed and combed a hand through his remaining hair, looking… disturbingly abashed, for a Sith. His mouth twisted into a grimace. “Alright, yes, you did say there was mail on the terminal, but it was from the sphere admin address. Nothing important ever comes in from the sphere admin address. All that effort getting a holonet terminal working out here, and it’s all—here, some Dark Lord working in some fringe region died collapsing a cavern on herself, and here are three museum openings you can’t go to and a wedding you wouldn’t want to, and Lord So-and-So has taken his seventy-seventh apprentice, good for him, he’s probably going to fuse them all into one giant apprentice and put all the Biotics lords out of a job any day now. Why didn’t Zash send a holomail?”

https://archiveofourown.org/works/16797919/chapters/94887016#workskin

[dotthings]

So here’s my thoughts on an alternate ending plan for S15. While the remade heaven was something that fit, very little else did, and if they were aiming for self-actualizations being fulfilled the ending didn’t convey that. It feels incomplete to me (I have posted enough analyzing why and that’s all I’ll say here). This is a more earth-bound take. An ending where all of TFW 2.0 defeat Chuck and are together and figuring out life free of Chuck’s maze. This also incorporates some of my previous meta spec that didn’t get addressed at all in the finale but things are left so ambiguous, I have no reason to think my spec can’t be canon now. Also I think if canon can screw things up this royally, then I’m allowed to state that my version is not only kinder, but makes more sense. I’m sure there is some loose end I’ve missed, and I’d want to have all the Wayward Sisters appear too. Gosh, endings are hard!

Envisioning this as one extra long episode. To be extra subversive I’m still using the start of ep 19, but mostly this diverges after the end of ep 18.

-the phone call from Cas in ep 19 isn’t a troll from Lucifer (Lucifer can stay trapped in The Empty for all eternity). It’s actually Cas.

Here’s what happened: The Empty took him, fulfilling Cas Jungian arc about confronting his shadow and instead of fighting it, accepting it as part of himself. Inside Cas, a soul has been growing for many seasons now. Spontaneous soul combustion. It started small and kept growing. The act of confessing his love to Dean was the final spark to complete the growth. As The Empty drags Cas away, Cas’s grace merges with his soul and the grace is the power jolt it needs to make his soul blaze to full life. His grace is effectively gone, burned out in the act of bring his soul into being. The Empty cannot hold him, his soul is pure, and he’s not filled with self-loathing. The Empty spits Cas out in Lawrence, KS because that’s where Cas’s soul home beaconed to. Effectively human, this process was fairly traumatizing to his body, so he’s weakened. He staggers across town to outside the bunker, calls Dean, and collapses. Dean (as we saw in ep 19) races up the stairs and reaches Cas first, but Sam isn’t far behind, and both boys help Cas down into the bunker. Dean, being Dean, can’t stop touching Cas. There’s some awkwardness after Cas’s confession but they aren’t going to talk about it yet. Dean’s just relieved to have Cas back

-Jack’s also overjoyed Cas is back. Cas explains to the fam what happened and that he has a soul now. This will change the dynamics of TFW interact, changes Cas’s demeanor slightly, and how Dean and Cas interact, but Cas’s personality is basically the same

-Michael sides with TFW. His decision to stand up to his father is sincere. There are Cas and Michael scenes where they start reaching some kind of understanding of each other’s pov

-There is a further scene showing Sam mourning the snapped Eileen, as he finds something that belongs to her in his room

-They hatch a plan to confront Chuck. Cas assumes he’ll be joining them but Dean balks because Cas is freshly human and not battle-ready. “You and Sam are human, and you’re going into battle” Cas argues. Dean’s not really being logical about this, so Dean and Cas bicker while Sam, Jack and Michael have to go guys? Guys? Evil god to stop? World to save? “Get a room,” Sam snaps.

-Dean wins the argument, mostly because Cas has to give in just so they don’t stay derailed. They proceed with Cas holding down the fort at the bunker in case they need a further spell or information from the MoL archives

-They confront Chuck at the beach. Following some parts of ep 19, Chuck starts pettily beating up Sam and Dean, who refuse to give up. Sam and Dean shoulder to shoulder, laughing at their enemy through their bloodied faces. (That was a good moment, I’ll keep that) Michael intervenes, Chuck tries to destroy him but Jack steps in. Chuck is fending both of them off for the moment. Kind of looks like Chuck might overpower all of them. He raises his fingers to snap them all away

and a familiar voice yells HEY ASSBUT. Cas hurls a magical molotov cocktail at Chuck. Because Cas he found a spell, and while the thing certainly won’t kill God, it certainly makes for a great distraction. Chuck’s body burns for a moment, and then the flames go out with Chuck unharmed. The distraction allows Michael to get the upper hand enough for Jack to grab Chuck and absorb his powers and render Chuck powerless. They all leave Chuck on the beach.

-Michael looks deeply amused by the cocktail. “At least you didn’t hurl it at me this time”

-unsnapped Adam switches in.

-Sam and Dean look beat to hell. Cas says something sad about how at one point he could have healed them with a touch but he can’t now and Sam and Dean reassure him it’s fine. Cas asks Jack to heal them and Jack says he’s going non-intervention God and yeets. Sam, Dean, and Cas seem taken aback by this move and their son vanishing into thin air

-Michael switches back in and offers to heal them but Sam and Dean refuse again. Cas rolls his eyes. Typical Winchesters.

-Sam calls Eileen. “Eileen, are you okay?” All is well. Dean checks on Jody and the girls. They’re fine. Everyone unsnapped.

-Adam switches in again to say goodbye but maybe see you soon, shakes hands with Sam and Dean. A promise of maybe someday they could figure out how to be family. “Where you headed to now?” Dean asks. “Around, I guess,” says Adam, and then Michael switches back in and says “the french fries on earth are worth hanging around for a bit” and Michael yeets out.

-They won. They’re free. Chuck’s defeated, Jack is going to be a new, uncorrupted God. But wait, there’s still half an hour left, what’s left to resolve? What else could there be?

-We get a montage. Sam and Dean continue to hunt, the bruises and cuts on their faces from the battle with Chuck fading. A scene of Dean giving Cas shooting pointers and Cas is a pretty decent shot but maybe he should hold the shotgun a bit higher. Dean sure does keep touching Cas a lot when it’s not necessary. They still haven’t talked. Sam doing laundry. Dean studying a job application at the desk in his room. The bruises and cuts from their fight with Chuck are almost gone. Eileen hanging out in the bunker, she and Sam doing research at the library table, laughing as Sam makes a joke.

-Sam, Dean, and Cas get wind of ghoul activity and set out on a hunt together. Dean and Cas are waiting together, leaning against the Impala, while Sam is inside a gas station getting them all snacks.

Dean: Are you okay with this? Human...forever?

Cas: I’m adjusting. Rather enjoy being able to taste the pb&j again.

*Awkward silence*

Dean: Cas—what you said—I—

Cas: It’s all right Dean. You don’t have to say anything. I told you, it’s not about the having, it’s—

Cas doesn’t get to finish the sentence because suddenly Dean’s holding his face in his hands and then leans in and kisses him.

Dean pulls back, staring right at Cas’s stunned pikachu face.

Dean: What makes you think you didn’t already have me?

They hold each other. Sometimes it’s not in the saying it’s in the actions.

Sam, who just emerged from the gas’n sip station, stands there holding packets of junk food and yells “FINALLY!” and Dean and Cas jump apart. Dean is beet-red but both Dean and Cas look happier, more peaceful than we’ve seen them look in a very long while.

-Standard hunt. They kill some ghouls, badass Team Free Will action scene. Cas gets taken off guard, but Sam has his back.

-Back at the bunker. Sam answers a text from Eileen—they’re meeting up next week.

-Sam, Dean, Cas are in the bunker having dinner when Jack randomly appears. Raises his hand. “Hello!” They’re all startled, but tell Jack they miss him. “You don’t write, you don’t call,” Dean complains. “Well,” Jack says. “I figured just because I’m non-interventionist doesn’t mean I can’t stop by for dinner once in a while.” “Darn right,” says Dean.

-TFW 2.0 have dinner together. Jack mentions he remade heaven, no more barriers. Released trapped souls like Kevin’s to heaven. New set of rules. Mentions he met with Rowena. They’re working out a better system. Reform.

“I would have gotten rid of the monsters,” Jack explains, “but can’t do it without upsetting the natural order of things—what’s done is done. The alternative is to reset everything. I won’t do that. Too much would be undone, too much good lost.” The implication is also: while he won’t intervene and be the God perching on Team Free Will’s shoulder, he also can’t bring himself to do anything that will undo them. “Sometimes it’s all worth putting up with a few monsters,” Sam says.

Jack vanishes again. “Guess we’ll get used to that eventually” says Dean.

-very last shot. It’s dusk, outside the bunker. Sam and Dean leaning on the Impala, watching fireflies, drinking beers. Not talking, just being.

Dean: We did it.

Sam: We did it.

Dean: Well, here’s to freedom.

They toast their beer bottles. Both look more peaceful than we have seem them look in a very long time.

Overhead shot of Sam and Dean, the Impala, the bunker.

*Kansas version of Carry On, Wayward Son plays*

[redhawtriot]

Caught in The Act (Bakugou x Reader x Todoroki)

Tip Jar ☕- Not expected but always appreciated💞

Thanks so much to all of you who have followed this story! I remember that I started this series this month to celebrate my first 100 followers, but now I am up to 1000 of y’all? The fuck?

You guys are so supportive! I couldn’t ask for a better group of people to share my art with! Again, thank you so much!

HnM💕

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

Finale:

She did not just call you crazy. And a bitch.

Fae’s eyes wildly flashed between you and her sister, “C-crazy bitch? I—"

“FIRST OF ALL, who the HELL do you think--” you cut yourself off before gently inhaling a pocket of air. You were sounding way too much like a certain explosive disgrace for your liking. You closed your eyes as you breathed out all of your frustrations.

“Hey, hey! What’s going on?!” Fae protectively shifted to fill the space between you and her little sister, “Farrah, there must be a mistake. This is my roommate, Y/N.”

Farrah.

A pretty name forever ruined by a slut.  

God, you wanted to beat her ass more than anything. It was as if all of your nerves were on fire and screaming a you to just do something.

Was this what Katsuki constantly felt like?

The violent beating of your eardrums was deafening and your vision was beginning to blur as you scowled at Fae’s sister.

Everything in your being yearned for you to switch to “instant kill mode”, but you couldn’t physically move. It was as if a small piece of you held your fury under control like a rabid dog on a chain-- or a parliament of higher beings had voted for you to keep your cool.

You sucked in one more time as your heart began to slow down. You gave one last, gentle huff as you continued to glare.

Farrah sent a scowl of her own back at you, “She is the one who—”

“This is the trash that slept with my boyfriend,” you deadpanned very flatly as your eyes slightly narrowed at her.  Fae’s jaw fell immediately at your words, but you continued talking despite her shock, “I just don’t see how she, of all people, could be upset in the situation. If you're upset at all, it should be at yourself. You have no class or self-worth, sleeping with an engaged man,” you crossed your arms as you reprimanded her and dared her to say something else as you intensified your stare.

You felt your heart jump as she stepped forward towards you, past Fae. It was as if it were excited by the idea that she may attack you so that you thoroughly beating the snot out of her would be justified.

Shit. What was wrong with you.

You kicked the persistent, animal-like thoughts off your leg as you continued to eye Farrah.

“You’re psychotic!!” she gasped as she threw her hands up, “I totally didn’t know Ground Zero even had a girl! psycho ass!”

Bull shit. You and Bakugou had both been plastered everywhere since your first sports festival at U.A. when you were fifteen. Since then you had both been in the eye of the media. It was pretty common knowledge that he wasn’t single. Your face scrunched up in disgust at her blatant lies as she continued, “She kicked me out of the apartment with nothing but my bare ass!!!”

“Yeah, you left your cheap ass, ratty ass clothes and your dignity that night too,” you rolled your eyes as the words flew out of your mouth.

“Woah, woah, woah! Calm down, everybody,” Fae looked as if she was on the brink of crying, “Farrah, I think you should leave for now, Okay?” She fiddled with her fingers.

“Yeah, I think so too.” As you pettily used your dancing fingers to wave, astonishment flashed across Fae’s expression. Honestly if your heart wasn’t thrumming against your chest so crazily right now, you would be horrified at how you were acting too, but the adrenaline that coursed throughout your body at the sight of the whore in the room numbed your mind.

Farrah struggled against her older sister as she tried to lead her away from the would-be battlefield, “No!! She is the one that needs to leave. You’re the one who pays rent around here, Sis!”

“Farrah, stop it!” Fae pleaded.

“WHY??” Farrah blurted before throwing a finger in your direction, “Newsflash, she is the one who is stealing your man from you now!” her voice raised an octave as she screeched, “Talk about hypocritical!” All of the color drained from Fae’s face as she threw horrified glances between you and her sister. Her mouth stumbled over itself as she tried to find words.

Your eyebrows congregated to the middle of your forehead as you tried to decipher the meaning of Farrah’s words.

Todoroki? Is that Fae’s man?

As if on cue, the front door to the house casually slid open, revealing a tired Todoroki.

All of the chaos that had been ensuing inside immediately halted as Todoroki froze in the doorway. His eyes snapped around as he saw the loose papers from Fae’s books that you hadn’t even noticed that you had thrown around with your quirk in your frustration, your completely furious expression and defensive stance, and Fae’s horrified form struggling to hold onto her crazed sister.

It was a lot to interpret.

“What… is going on,” he calmly questioned before he was assaulted with a boom of feminine screams.

“TELL HER TO LEAVE!”

“NO, TELL HER TO LEAVE! SHE DOESN’T EVEN LIVE HERE.”

“FARRAH, STOP!”

“NEITHER DO YOU, WHORE.”

Todoroki blinked in shock at the words that flew out of your mouth. He had never heard you used such a tone or choice of words with anyone—not even when you were against villains at U.A.. He hated to see you so upset, but he had no idea what to do with all of these women yelling at him, “Uh, Y/N...? Should we talk?” He questioned, causing Farrah to roll her eyes before she mouthed the word “see?” To her sister.

You huffed once more as you stormed towards the man, “Okay...” You begrudgingly agreed as you walked outside of the door, not even bothering to look him in the face. You couldn’t bring yourself to. Something just didn’t sit right with you.

As soon as he shut the front door behind him and walked down to the driveway a bit to meet up with where you had stormed off to, you threw a curve-ball at him,

“Just what is Fae to you?”

The question completely caught him off guard, but he immediately answered anyway, “Our roommate?”

“Obviously. But like. Did you and her… ever you know…” the thought alone made you feel queasy, “have something romantic.” You could have thrown up right then and there.

But his lack of reply made you feel a different type of sick. You blinked in surprise as the silence ensued before you spoke up, “You’re kidding,” you blurted.

“It’s not at all what you are thinking. There was chemistry for sure, but nothing ever happened. It wasn’t strong like you and I. When you came back there was no doubt in my mind that me and her were nothing.”

“That’s not what I’m upset about,” you threw pinched fingers to the brige of your nose and shook your head, trying to clear your thoughts, “Jesus, that poor girl.” So you really were just as much of a homewrecker, huh?

You thought there was one whore in that house but there were two.

“Fae is fine,” Todoroki moved to place a hand on your shoulder but you shifted away. He looked a bit shocked as he continued, “She had been dating here and there. She’s unaffected by the situation,” he calmly argued.

“God, Todoroki. That’s not the point,” you searched around your jacket pocket for your car keys. You had to get out of here. Even if you were in your house shoes.

“Im sorry, did I do something? Where are you going?” Todoroki’s calm demeanor slightly cracked as panicked undertones filled his question.

“I need to think,” you simply replied. Upon seeing his worried expression you immediately changed your answer, “I’ll… be back, okay? I just need a drive. We are still cool, okay? Friends,” you tried to sound enthused at the word.

“Okay… be safe.”

You slightly nodded at him before getting in your car and driving off.

You couldn’t believe it. You were slowly becoming everything that split you an Katsuki apart.

Your phone violently vibrating against your leg sent you flying out of your thoughts. Jesus, Kiri. He always called when you were trying to drive your frustration away—literally.

You groaned as you answered the phone.

“Hey!” His chipper voice had a slight undertone of panic to it, but your frustrated mind completely ignored it,

“What,” you deadpanned.

“Oh god, this isn’t a good time is it…?” he nervously laughed, causing your face to instantly shrivel up into a scowl,

“Just tell me what the fuck you want, Kirishima!” you blurted. A long silence filled the line, causing you to breath out heavily in a deep sigh. Way to go.

It was as if you were taking notes straight out of Katsuki’s book today. You just cursed at the sweetest guy on the planet. I mean, you might as well have just stomped on a puppy with both feet, “Look. I am sorry. I didn’t mean that... it’s just a long day…”

A pathetic excuse really. You realized this as soon as it came out of your mouth.

Kiri, being the happy souled fool he was, wholeheartedly accepted your pathetic excuse, “Maybe I should call back then...?” he suggested kindly.

“No, its okay, Kiri. What’s up?” you tried to smile as if he could see you—as if this gentle gesture would make up for how much of a colossal bitch you had just been.

“Well...” he dragged,  “Don’t you think maybe that it is about time you picked up your things from our apartment?”

You sighed, “…it’s really not a good time for me. I just..”

“WE CAUGHT THE HOUSE ON FIRE,” he cried out suddenly.

You held the phone closer to your ear as if you hadn’t heard him correctly, “Um. W-hwhat…?”

As soon as you spoke it triggered a tangent from the redhead, “Bakugou was really mad because he found out about you and Todoroki a few hours ago and he came home and wanted to vent his frustrations out, and we both know what that means, so we got to fighting and I punched him really hard, totally not manly of me by the way, and I pissed him off and then he exploded me and we set the house on fire!” he gasped for air, “I am so sorry!!” he exclaimed in a higher tone.

Your mind spun as you tried to take in all of the information that was being thrown at you at once. Finally it settled into your brain, “Oh my god!” you gasped, “Is he… is Katsuki okay?!”

“Yeah he is fine. He’s is in the hospital,” he brushed off.

“What!?! Where?!”

He quickly corrected himself at the sound of your heartbroken voice, “No, no! Not like that!” For some reason the concern in your voice for Bakugou made him happy, “He just needed a few little burn treatments! Anyway, we will probably be released tomorrow morning or night from the hospital, but—”

“We?!” you screeched.

“Yeah, I—”

“Kiri please tell me you did not just call me from a hospital bed,” you shook your head furiously.

“I just wanted to tell you that you should go pick up your things while Bakugou isn’t there, well what’s left of it anyway,” he gave an uneasy chuckle.

“Isn’t it still hot?”

“One of the firefighters had a cold quirk so everything turned out okay after they showed up. No other apartments were affected at all actually!” You still couldn’t believe this was all happening. You honestly hadn’t planned on grabbing your things from the apartment so soon. Then again, it had been months hadn’t it?

“So, are you going?” Kirishima snapped you back to reality.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll head over there right now,” you absentmindedly nodded even though he couldn’t see you. You hung up the phone after the two of you had spoken your farewells, but you could hardly remember the rest of the drive as you stood in front of your old home.

Your mind felt entirely numb as you gawked at the tall, polished building.

The crime scene—where the dreams that you had been building since you were fifteen years old came to die a gruesome death. You swiftly ducked under the fitting yellow tape as you made your way into the scorched portion of the home—your old room.

It was pretty much the only area that had been affected by the disaster as the rest of the home basically look exactly as you had remembered it to be—well minus the manly mess that Kiri tended to leave behind. You assumed Katsuki had been more strict on house rules since you left.

You walked up to what was left of your grandmother’s dresser and traced your fingers along the crumbling edges of the wood. You ended your trail as your fingers found their way onto an old frame. You couldn’t tell if picture was okay since a film of ash painted the fractured glass, but the frame seemed fine, as it resided in an area that hadn’t been touched by the inferno.

So then why was the glass cracked?

That’s when it hit you—it must have been the object that you had thrown at Farrah that night. You remembered that you threw something at her that shattered, but you never bothered to find out what.

Why the hell didn’t Katsuki fix it?

You curiously, but cautiously wiped the glass with the edge of your shirt.

What was revealed was the first picture the you and Bakugou had ever taken together. He was tied to a pole with a muzzle on at the U.A. sports festival award ceremony your freshman year. You had been standing next to him as he stood on the first-place podium on your very own third pace spot.

The memory quickly flooded into your mind.

That day when you fought him was the first time that he had ever acknowledged you. He actually congratulated you in his own way you supposed. He told you that you put up a really good fight. You couldn’t help but to shake your head at the recollection as a smile dared to pull the corner of your lips up.

“Y/N?” A loud, rough voice caused you to jump suddenly before you whipped yourself around. What you saw surprised you,

Katsuki? But he’s not even supposed to be here! Especially with bloodied bandages placed throughout his scratched up body!!

He looked just as surprised as you, “What the fuck?!” he exclaimed.

“That’s my line, you ass! I thought you were in the hospital!” you cried out as you hurriedly dropped the frame into a bag you had been using to gather some of your things.

“I’m fine,” he quickly readjusted his face from the previously shocked expression, “They’re crazy if they thought I was gonna stay overnight.”

“Jesus, Katsuki,” you shook your head in disappointment.

“What?!” he barked.

You simply continued to shake your head as you attempted to rush past him, “Nothing. I’m leaving.”

“Wait! Don’t,” he suddenly reached out to grab you but you harshly shrugged him away before sending a glare at him,

“Why? Have something to say?” Of course he didn’t. He hadn’t reached out to you in all of this time. Not since the day everything went down. But then again, he hardly talked with you when you lived together, so why would he even bother speaking to you after you broke up.

Still, a piece of you yearned for him to care about you enough to speak up as you searched his eyes for an ounce of affection. You saw none—just hurt and a splash of his usual flavor of rage.  

“That’s what I thought,” your voice surprisingly croaked as you spoke. You turned away from him and began to walkaway, halting as he called out to you once more,

“You and Icyhot? REALLY?” he roared behind you, “I bet you were just waiting on me to fuck up so you’d have an excuse to crawl back to him, weren’t you?”

You whipped yourself back to furiously scowl at him. Of course that’s the first thing he wants to talk about after all this time, “You have zero right to judge me for moving on quickly even if I was fucking him!”

“So you’re not?!” he didn’t sound very convinced as he stormed up to you.

“Bakugou, that’s none of your business!” you didn’t back away as you challenge him. He hated it when you used his last name, “So what if I am?!” you exclaimed as tears pricked the backs of your eyes.

“I gave you a damned ring—we were getting married next fucking month!!” as his voice cracked your eyes were drawn to his arms that he intensely held on either side of him. His hands were quietly quivering in rage as he continued, “Of course it’s my fucking business!”

You snapped back regardless of his dangerously pissed off state. He is still trying to defend himself like he did nothing wrong after all this fucking time, “I gave you my ENTIRE being Katsuki!! I gave you my trust and my whole heart and everything else I could muster up and more!!!” You screamed at the top of your voice. Tears freely rolled down your tired cheeks at this point,

“So fucking what if you gave me a hunk of metal with a few gems?! What else did you give me? Huh?! What else did you offer up to me? Affection? Consideration? Loyalty??” your voice heavily cracked on the last word as you stared at the seemingly unphased man in front of you.

He held a glare as if it were permanently plastered onto his expression, yet he didn’t say anything in return, so you continued speaking after shakily gathering up a spare breath,  “God, I still think about you in practically everything that I do…” you cried as you pathetically stared at the ground in front of you. Bakugou’s fierce red eyes continued to burn holes into your image as you spoke,

“…but you probably only care that some other man is stomping around on your territory. You haven’t even reached out to me past the initial weekend when shit hit the fan,” you looked back up to see him still glaring at you intensely. You couldn’t tell if he was judging you or if he hated you. Probably a mix of the two.

What a condescending asshole.

“What?! Stop fucking looking at me! Say something dammit!” you pushed him away from you and was surprised by how good it felt, “Anything!!” you pleaded as you pushed him back again towards the living room.

He still said nothing as he threw his glare away from you and toward the ground. You groaned in annoyance before shoving him back again. Why was he always so damn quiet when you actually wanted him to speak up?

“Fight me back, dammit!” you didn’t even care that you sounded like him anymore. Maybe it’s what he wanted from you the entire time as his mastermind meticulously chipped away at the persona that you had been building all of your life. Well, if it’s what he wanted, you would be more than happy to oblige in this case, “You like to pick fights don’t you?!” you screamed as you used your entire body and shoved him once last time, actually tripping him.

The two of you fell and you toppled on top of him as your tears transformed into sobs, “Just do something, you grimy ass bastard! I know you want to!” you weakly pounded against his chest as sobs continued to tear themselves from your throat.

Bakugou truthfully had no words to speak as he watched your heartbroken form collapse on his chest.

He wanted so desperately to say something.

He wanted to tell you everything that he was feeling, and more than anything he wanted to hold you close to him and comfort you.

But it was as If something in the fibers of his being stopped him from doing so as you laid broken on top of him.

It had always been that way with you.

Every time he had opened his mouth to say something affectionate to you, something vile and downright disrespectful would fly out instead. Every time he wanted to reach out to you and touch you gently, all of the wrong muscles spasmed and he would do something completely erroneous.

It had been easier to neglect you at the time, rather than face you and hurt you, or fix himself even. But it was beyond fixing himself now.

Even so, he wanted to show you at least once that he was capable of doing something fucking right.

He owed you at least that.

He closed his eyes and he sharply grabbed your face and pressed it down onto his own as gently as he could. His hands were still shaking, not from anger as you had assumed, but from fear. He was terrified that you would completely abandon him without ever knowing how much he cared about you.

You whimpered into his mouth out of pure surprise as he continued to move his lips against your own, but you almost instantaneously settled down against him as relief surged throughout your body.

It felt as if a weight had been lifted from your being.

You found yourself kissing him back for only a moment more before you yanked yourself away from him, “No… no, no Katsuki….” You softly cried with wide eyes as you scooted away from him, “What are we doing!?”

“I know it’s over,” he said very flatly, “Between us, I mean.”

The sentence unexpectedly sent your heart falling deeply into your chest, “Wha—”

“Just shut up a moment and listen to me,” he interrupted you sharply. A thick silence enveloped the two of you for a beat as he seemed to internally kick himself for his harsh wording before he awkwardly shifted himself to sit next to you. His arms struggled to find their way around you as he lamely gathered you into his arms and pulled you close to him, “Just…. don’t look at me,” he grumbled, “I won’t be able to say the shit that I mean if you look.”

You couldn’t even find the time question what he had meant as he quickly continued,

“You... are the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I know I didn’t always act like it, but it’s true, dammit. I know that I couldn’t show it to you. It’s like my mind and my body were split on what to do. I wanted to hold you like this every night, but my body just wouldn’t let me… It’s just so damn confusing,” he finished with a croak.

He shook his head at himself before continuing, “I should have fucking done it anyway. I should have woken up early to make you breakfast more than just the once. I should have worked less so you wouldn’t have to spend days without me. I should have given you that ring sooner. I never should have slept with that woman. Drunk or not—but that goes without saying. I am so sorry, Y/N. You did not deserve this.”

You couldn’t help but to look up at him, but your heart broke as you saw heavy tears falling from his eyes.

He could feel your eyes on him but he found the resolve to continue regardless, “Anyway, I know it’s over now. I can feel it. What we had is over,” he fought himself from sobbing, “I’ll never see that ring on you again, and I don’t deserve to either. I didn’t deserve a lot of things I got growing up, but I definitely didn’t deserve you,” he sounded as if he was trying to convince himself, “I don’t think I can change who I am to be what you need me to be. You deserve more than what I can give you right now. And....” he tried to pull the words out of himself, “if Half n’ Half can do it, then I should let you go that way.”

He sighed. You weren’t sure if you had ever heard him sigh before. It shocked you as he continued, “I used to think you were keeping me from winning, and I was stupid to think that,” he rested his head on top of yours, “I’m just dragging you down onto my level at this point,” he shook his head, “but I won’t let that shit happen,” he finally dropped his face to look you in the eyes, “I love you so much, Y/N,” he whispered to you before pressing a painful kiss onto your forehead.

Was this even the same man you had known for almost half of your life?

“I-I love you too. I really do,” you stuttered as astonishment enveloped your body. The two of you sat in a bittersweet silence for a few moments before his gruff, substantially more put together voiced sounded once more,

“As much I hate to say this,” he lowly began as he moved you over and stood up, “you should go,” he held a hand to you to help you up.

Your hand faltered toward his own before you reluctantly accepted his gesture, doubts filling you mind. Bakugou, ever perceptive, noticed your reluctance and immediately cleared the air as he opened the front door for you,

“If Mismatch ever treats you half as bad as I did, I will set him on fire,” he lowly stated. The Bakugou you grew up with suddenly reappeared.

“He has a fire quirk… I don’t think that will work,” you tried to joke, but honestly your heart was hurting so much.

“Fucking watch me,” he smiled at you.

Genuinely smiled.

Your heart melted at the rare scene in front of you and your weak legs could barely make it out of the door.

After moments of staring at each other, you returned a small, sad smile at him before you walked out of the apartment and shut the door behind you.

What... just happened? You turned back around to face the door and placed your hand on the knob. You let it sit for a moment before you slowly retracted it, cursing under your breath.

On the other side, Bakugou knew that he had made the correct decision letting you go to Todoroki, but the pain in his heart begged him to follow after you.

However, the doubts and reluctance to do so further solidified his decision. He wasn’t ready to be the man you needed. Yet.

He had a lot of maturing to do before he could truly love his soulmate.

Soulmate.

The thought sent flutters into his worn down heart.

A reminder of the faith that he had that you two would find your way back to each other one day.

[bl--ankhaeji]

Jisung

Pairing - Jisung x chubby*Reader

Genre - Fluff

Warning - Suggestive content, insecurities 

A/N - Soo this is a Jisung timestamp but this is done differently than how most do their timestamps also the Jisung in this is different than “usual” Jisung just to let y’all know. He’s getting older so I feel as if the content in here is not that bad and if any of you have problems with Jisung being a regular teenage boy with hormones then oh fucking well. If you want to keep seeing him as a child then this is not for you.  

W. Count - I don’t really know I didn’t look this time but ik it’s longer than I intended

5:30 

As you laid sideways across your bed trying to find the perfect position. You heard your mom in the kitchen cooking what you hope is dinner. Your stomach wailing as soon as the thought crosses your mind. ‘Ah I found it’ you think as the immediate comfort of the perfect laying spot begins to set deep within your body.

 You take a look at your phone and start back reading your story that was shining on the screen. It was starting to escalate as the currently featured side gay couple finally stopped lying to themselves and admittedly jumped each others bones. You feel the little tingle start in the pit of your stomach, it was just getting good when a message came through.

Jisungpwark 💚💚😗🤤🥰🤪:

BABEEEEE 

AHHHH

IM BOREDD

Come play mario kart with me 

You:

UGGHHH

But I just found the perfect laying spot 

And my mom’s cooking dinner 

Tell me why I should get up and come over? what’s in it for me 

Jisungpwark 💚💚😗🤤🥰🤪:

Maybe because you love me and dont wanna see me

 suffer from boredom 

You: 

Do I really love you that much though?

That’s the question of the hour

Jisungpwark 💚💚😗🤤🥰🤪:

First off that hurt 

Second of course you love me or else you wouldnt be 

dating me for 7 years now 

You: 

You forget about that time we broke up in fifth

grade 

Jisungpwark 💚💚😗🤤🥰🤪:

That was for ONE DAY ok 

If you come over I promise to let you win at mario kart

     “What the hell?” you exclaimed slightly outraged at the bullshit he just sent to your phone. Sitting up you feel the competitiveness start to spike. “Did he really just challenge me like that?”

     You get out of bed and start to put your shoes on, “He knows damn well that I can beat his ass without him ‘letting me win.’” 

You:

Stop fucking lying whore you know damn well I can 

beat your ass I mario kart 

See now I have to come over and whoop you at your

own video game

I’ll be over in 10

     Part of you knows Jisung said that on purpose but that didn’t stop you from taking the bait still.

     Walking out of your room you go into the kitchen and see your mother almost done with dinner, the sweet aroma of the food has your mouth watering, stopping for a second you ponder if you should really go play mario kart. 

     “Hey sweets, dinner is almost ready.” your mother turns to you and smiles, taking in your jacket and shoes and she looks at you questiongly.

     Walking around to your mom you give her a hug and a kiss on the cheek as you grab your car keys that sit behind her. “Hey I came to let you know that I was gonna head over to Jisung’s for a little to beat him at mario kart. He threatened me so I have to show him what’s up.”  Hearing your statement, one that she has heard before, your mother laughs and gives you an ok before she recommends just staying the night, knowing that you won’t be back anytime soon. 

     Thinking about it you go and pack a bag. Going towards the front door you’re about to step out when your mom calls you back in the kitchen to which you see her sitting at the table with a plate of food as she slides a container with enough for both you and Jisung. “Thank you mama.” you say smiling so wide that it almost hurt, feeling happy that you get to eat some of f/f(favorite food).

     “You’re welcome sweets. Oh and before I forget, be safe.”

     You left out a huff of air telling your mother that you will be careful driving so she has nothing to worry about.

     In a sing-song voice she goes,“That’s not what I meant.” As you open your mouth to ask what she meant she cuts you off by sliding something across the table. 

     “Mom...what is that. ‘Please don’t let it be what I think it is.’ But as you read the box your fears are confirmed. It is condoms. “Mom what the- EW mom no it’s not, we’re not-” she cuts you off with a raised hand. 

     “Sweetie you’re not in trouble. I know you and Jisung have been together for a very long time, and I trust and love you both. But you’re of the age where you do things like that and you may not feel comfortable telling me, but love safe sex is nothing to be ashame-”

     Never having been this flustered in your life you frantically tried to get her to stop,“MOM. I…” Fidgeting with your hands you start to awkwardly look around the kitchen as if it was the first time you had ever seen it. “...We don’t do those types of things.” 

     “Ok darling, but you never know what might happen.” She states with the smuggest look on her face, winking as she hands you four condoms. “I’m not endorsing it but I know that if you want to do it then there’s nothing I could do to stop you so take these. Also you might want to go ahead and get to his house, your phone has been buzzing for a while now.” She states whilst she started to eat the food that was on her plate. 

     You couldn’t get out of that house quick enough, seeing as how you almost fell walking out of the door. Settling down in the car you release the biggest cringe you’ve ever had in your life. “AHHH ew what the fuck was that!” you exclaim feeling the condoms that burned in your pockets, as if they were trying to set your pants on fire so that they could get put to good use. 

     Finally calming down your phone buzzes with another message from Jisung. You see that he’s left various messages questioning where you are or what's taking so long. Some stating that you must be dead. You shake your head at your silly boyfriend as you reply to his many messages. With a light sigh you put the key in the ignition and back out of your driveway.  

     It was then that you started to look back at you and Jisung’s relationship. You guys started dating in fifth grade when you both got dared to spend seven minutes in heaven at you guys long time friend, Jeongin’s, birthday party. He still holds the fact that the only reason you too got together was because of him, but ever since then you and Jisung have been going strong. 

     Except for that one day in fifth grade when you guys broke up a week after you had gotten together because Mina Jameson had convinced you that Jisung would never want a ‘bludder whale’ like you. Ha jokes on her she’s had five STD’s this year alone and at least two pregnancy scares and she didn’t even know how to say blubber so who’s on top now. 

     Ever since you were a child you’ve always been bigger than most girls and it did make you feel insecure for a very long time, but if it wasn’t for Jisung who reassured you and showered you with as much love as he could every time you slipped you don’t know what life would be like. 

     You loved him with everything you had. 

     You and Jisung had never gone past small makeouts. They barely even involved tongue, there’s no way that things would just escalate tonight out of basically nowhere. Right?

     Yea. Anyways Jisung is too shy for that even though sometimes he could be a cheeky asshole and I don’t know if I’m ready.  

     Seeing that you’ve made it to Jisung’s house you take a look at the time and see that it had been almost two hours as it was 6:45. Damn, well at least I brought food. 

     You greeted your soft looking boyfriend clad in a hoodie that is slightly big on him and Nike joggers, he almost tackled you to the ground when he saw the food in your hands. When he asked what took so long you just told him it was the food. You guys ate the food that your mom gave you and started playing mario kart.

8:23

     After about 15 rematches most of which you won Jisung’s mom called him into the living room. She had an emergency at work and she wanted him to know that she wouldn’t be back till tomorrow.

     “So babe, what are we gonna do now? We could watch a movie or...” Jisung whispered, trailing off as he got in bed next to you and started to survey every inch of your face. It felt as if he was looking into your soul. You felt like he could see every single flaw on your face and you did not like it. As soon as he started leaning in moving his hand to your pillowy waist your mind flashed to the conversation you had with your mother. 

     ‘Is this it? Does he want to do it?’ Overwhelming thoughts started to cloud your mind and pretty soon you found yourself jerking back once you felt the tip of his nose touch yours. The sound of the sheets moving filled the room as you stood up off of the bed. 

     “Uhh it’s getting late, A movie sounds nice I think I’m just gonna go shower right quick and we can watch the movie when I get out, ok?” You state as you quickly gather your shorts that you brought and a hoodie out of Jisung’s closet, and rush into his en suite bathroom almost slamming the door behind you.   

     Turning on the shower to make sure he didn’t hear you, you immediately start to whisper shout, “Ah! What the fuck was that, who the fuck was that and what did he do with my boyfriend. Jisung has never been like that before.” Tying your hair up you hop in the shower feeling the water pelt your skin as you decided to forget about it, but you couldn’t deny the twinge you felt in your stomach every time you thought about how he looked when he stared at you like that. 

9:34

     The movie was boring so you guys decided to play games again. Only for Jisung to see that he was about to lose against you in Mortal Kombat and in an effort to be a little bitch he tackled you. Now wrestling you yell at him in mock anger for ruining the game before you could kick his head off. As you flipped the both of you over so that you were on top you started to pettily slap his arm. 

     “Ahh Park Jisung you dick! I almost won why’d you do tha-” You had gotten too comfortable and loosed up your legs that were caging him in and he was able to flip you mid sentence. It was then you noticed what a compromising position you both were in, it looked somewhat akin to the basic missionary. 

     Letting out quickened breaths you started to heat up as Jisung stayed in between your legs. You could see the slight perspiration sort of dampen his hair. The game made a sound that surprised you a little causing you to sort of jerk your body. At that Jisung let out a groan that sounded like it was painful. 

     Your body alerts and you start to question him,“Jisung I’m sorry are you ok? What happened?” A ferocious blush starts to race across his cheeks. He avoids your eyes and tells you that it was nothing and that he’s fine.

     “Jisung stop lying and would you let me up now, you’ve been laying on me for a while an-” Cool slightly wet lips touch yours. A little startled at first you tense up but then his lips start to move against yours and the tension in your body slowly unwinds till nothing is left but pure bliss. His lips slowly caress yours and this feels like nothing you’ve ever felt in your life. The passion and the want that he puts into kissing you has you going crazy. 

     Once a steady rhythm is set you move your lower body in an effort to get comfortable and Jisung groans again, and you immediately feel something against your leg and you get flustered because now you know why he groaned and you feel like an idiot for not figuring it out sooner. 

     Jisung wants more, more of you, more of this. The high that this is putting him on is euphoric and for now he doesn’t want to stop. He didn’t say anything but when you came out of his bathroom in his hoodie that fit just like a dress because of the height difference and the illusion that you had nothing on under got him so riled up that he almost couldn’t breathe. It was always like that when it came to you. He loved you so much that it was at most times suffocating. He slips his tongue out of his mouth and just barely grazes it against your bottom lip as if he was testing out the water temp in a pool. 

     You feel something wet against your lips realizing that it was Jisung’s tongue and you quickly almost embarrassingly so open your mouth to let him in. His tongue ventures farther into your mouth and for a little bit there you both are, in the middle of the floor in his room exploring each other, tasting each other, and it is as if there is no one or nothing in the world except for you two. 

     Soon enough without realizing Jisung starts to slowly grind his semi-erection right on to your heated core. The feeling was heavenly and neither of you wanted to stop. 

     He lifts off of your lips so that you both could breath but he soon started to kiss all over your neck, and you throw your head back and release a moan that sounded like heaven to his ears. Grabbing your soft plushy sides he starts to feel anywhere that he can and you tense up out of slight fear at what could be his reaction. He runs one hand down to your thigh, lifting it so that it’s placed on his hip softly squeezing while the other starts to make its way to the hem of your hoodie pulling it up slightly, and that’s when the thoughts came. 

     You quickly pushed Jisung off of you and sat up trying to pull the hoodie as far down your body that it could reach. You looked toward Jisung to see that he had a blush the color of a strawberry and his lips were swollen to look even more soft and inviting than normal. Standing up you rush to his bathroom and close the door leaving a severely confused and turned on Jisung on the floor.  

     Looking toward the mirror, multiple hickies are splattered across your neck and when you lift your hand to rub against them you jolt a little at how tender they were. You could also see where it looked as if you had taken a shot at the kylie jenner lip challenge. But that wasn’t where your mind was at, you were focused on what just happened out there. Thoughts of Jisung possibly seeing your chubby stomach riddled with stretch marks made immediate panic course through your veins. 

     You normally were so good with not thinking about things like that Jisung having helped you be able to get here, but now when he was on the precipice of Jisung seeing your body you couldn’t think about anything but the possible disgust at what you really looked like. 

     It’s not like you didn’t trust him or anything but when insecurity strikes it strikes hard. You consider telling Jisung about these feelings considering you always have in the past, but what if he feels as if you’re doubting his love for you and he gets mad.

     You realize that you’ve probably been in the bathroom for a long time and you didn’t want Jisung to worry so you muster up the courage and with a determined release of air you open the door. Only to see that Jisung is not where you left him. 

     “I wonder where he’s at?” You speak into the air until you wonder what time it is and see that it’s 10:15. ‘WTF we were making out for that long’

     Thirty minutes have passed and Jisung is still not back. As soon as you get up to go look for him he walks into the room. 

     “Where were you? You’ve been gone for a little over half an hour.” 

     Jisung looks at you and when he sees your truly confused face he shyly thwarts his eyes and lifts his hand to rub his neck at the realization that he’ll actually have to explain. But before he can you see his shy gaze and it clicks in your mind what he could’ve been doing regarding what you felt earlier. Biting the inside of your lip you tell him nevermind stating that you already know. He apologizes and says he had to do something because he didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.      

11:00

     The last fifteen minutes have been filled with an agonisingly awkward aura in the air. You and Jisung have been sitting up against the headboard of his bed staring at some movie on tv but you knew that neither of you were actually paying attention. Jisung’s warm hand slides toward yours and upon contact you jump up and away. 

     “Babe what’s wrong? You’ve been jumpy ever since what happened a while ago. Is everything ok? Did I do something wrong?” Jisung asks with slight guilt in his voice thinking he was the problem. You told him no but he didn’t believe and you kept trying to deny his accusations saying that you were just tired but he wouldn’t take that for an answer.

     He grabbed your chin and sort of gently forced you to look at him and when you saw his warm eyes filled with nothing but love you had no choice but to break down and tell him. 

     Hot salty tears ran down your face and he took his thumb and used it to wipe your tears as you described what happened when he tried to go under the hoodie. You had to continuously reassure him that it was not his fault, but your own. 

     “I promise Jisung you did nothing wrong. I love you so much we’ve been through everything together. It’s my fault for feeling this way even when you constantly shower me with love. I just sometimes, I feel like you shouldn’t like me and when you tried to reach under my hoodie it’s just like I didn’t want my fears to come true once you see my body.” 

     “...Babe I- I don’t know how to approach this like I want you to know how much I truly love you. I honestly love your body so much but I don’t want you to think that's all though.” Jisung stated nervously mildly irritated at himself for not being able to properly express his feelings for you. Starting to think you honestly couldn’t believe why you didn’t trust him. He was your mouse, your tall boi, your marshmallow, your love, and possibly even your life.

     “C’mere” Jisung stated in his deep soothing voice as he pulled you into his lap in a straddle position. 

     What Jisung didn’t know was that you loved whenever you got to sit in his lap, it made you feel giddy inside. 

     Jisung totally knew that you loved to sit in his lap.

     “It’s ok, we don’t have to rush. If you don’t feel comfortable showing your body too me yet then that’s ok...One request though.” He states with a small smile and a single finger held in the air. “Can we at least keep making out like this because I’ve been holding myself back and after tonight I don’t think I can do that anymore.” He promptly flashes a slightly cocky smirk to which you answer with a smack on the arm earning a laugh from him. 

     Wondering why you even date him you give him a lingering kiss on the lips and snuggle into his chest. 

     “Y/n, I noticed that earlier when you were talking about what happened you called this hoodie yours. I just wanted you to- ACK stop choking me- AKKK.” 

Although he was currently being choked he was happy, because he knew that you were ok.

[ellewritesathing]

Faking It  -  V

Summary: You’d done plenty of dumb things in your life, but the dumbest had to be picking Greendale’s latest bad-boy to pretend to be your boyfriend.

Masterlist  Prev. | Part 5

Word-count: 2.6k+

A/N: ... so that was some rough stuff. i hope this makes up for it!!  💕

Considering that your relationship with Caliban had been entirely fake from the start, you had no reason to be as pissed off about it ending as you were. But there you were: lonely and pissed off, with all the little trinkets he’d ever given you surrounding where you were moping on your bedroom floor. 

The flower he’d picked from the field and put in your hair? In the shoebox. The ticket stubs from the first movie you’d seen together? In the shoebox. The detention slip you’d gotten when you cut class together that he’d written and drawn all over? In the shoebox. Any and all feelings towards him? In the goddamn shoe box. 

Despite the progress you were making with trashing your room, you and your brooding were interrupted by someone knocking at your window. You pretended not to notice Harvey perched haphazardly on your window sill and started heading out to the hall when Sabrina stepped out to block you. For a tiny person, she could be pretty intimidating when popping out of the shadows like that.

“Open the window,” she said. 

“You can’t tell me what to do. This is my house.” 

“Your house is going to have a dead body out front if you let Harvey dangle out there for another five minutes. He’s not exactly well coordinated.” 

You rolled your eyes before walking over and throwing the window open. Harvey swore as he climbed through and you walked over to flop on your bed. As you settled on your bed, Sabrina dusted Harvey off and checked that he was okay - a very small action that made you feel sick given your very recent single status. 

“So what do the two of you want?” you asked. They looked awkwardly at each other and you rolled your eyes. “Come on, you ambushed me in my bedroom. You want something. Spit it out.”

“It’s not that we want something,” Sabrina said, gingerly making her way over to your bed. She made a spot for herself among all the junk you had piled high around her. “We just wanted to check on you. It’s been a while since anyone saw you.” 

“It’s been a day, first of all.” You waved your finger around as you spoke. “And second of all, that still means you still want something.” 

Harvey mumbled your name and sat on the bed right next to you, forcing you over to the side of the bed with the junk if you didn’t want to be crushed. “Come on. Just tell us what’s going on with you.” 

“Harvey, you were there,” you said. “Both of you were there. You know what’s going on.” 

“Caliban never told us what happened. He left right after you did,” Sabrina said. 

Did he try to come after you? His car was a lot faster than yours so he would've- 

“Did something happen with Lucy?” 

You scoffed and took something out of the junk pile to fiddle with. Did something happen with Lucy? I don’t Brina, what was your first clue? 

“Yeah, something happened with Lucy,” you said instead of snapping. “They were making out and I caught them. The cycle of bullshit continues.” 

“Oh, Y/N,” Sabrina said softly. 

At the same time, Harvey got awkward next to you as he reached for your hand. “I know how you feel,” he said with a small smile. “Fucking sucks.”

You laughed and pulled yourself up to hug him. The two of you had been through a lot together, but this was by far the weirdest thing yet. You had the lucky experience of being heartbroken over the same two people kissing, how many best friends could say that? 

“Okay, you two, stop moping,” Sabrina said as she got up. “We’re going out. You, get dressed. You, help me get Roz and Theo.”

“I’m not leaving the house until I absolutely have to. My plans are to burn that box and watch 10 Things I Hate About You so I can cry over Heath Ledger.” 

And not Caliban. 

“Fine, then we’ll have a movie night!” Harvey said. He sounded too cheery at the thought of being cooped up in the house with you. “Then you don’t even have to get changed, but, uh, you are starting to smell, so maybe you should.”

“Harvey, so help me God-”

After taking a shower and getting into fresh sweats, you spent the rest of the long weekend curled up with your friends under a mountain of blankets and eating so much junk food that your stomach hurt. Despite your determination to be in a bad mood, spending this much time with them got you to stop thinking about Caliban and lifted your spirits. 

It was still awkward whenever one of them would slip up and mention him before turning very quickly to check that you weren’t going to burst into tears, but it got better. Roz braided your hair and Theo distracted you by telling you all about this kid named Robin that he met. It was the best post-breakup hangout you guys had had yet. 

That perfect little bubble of denial burst when you got into the car to drive yourself to school and found Caliban’s jacket waiting for you in the passenger seat. He’d left it thereafter you convinced him to let you drive him home after one of his boring baseball games.

Once you got to school, you gathered the jacket and everything else you wanted to return and stomped over to Caliban’s locker. He looked a lot more like the pissed off wannabe Abercrombie & Fitch model you met those months ago and less like the softer version of Caliban you’d come to know. You didn’t know if it made you sadder or feel pettily vindicated. 

You faked a sweet smile at him when he closed the door and saw you standing there. “Here’s all your crap.” 

Caliban looked down at the box and took it without anything more than a thank you. But even if he didn’t say anything else, he didn’t make any attempts to walk away. He just stood there, looking at you with those confusing eyes. Was he trying to say something? Trying to figure out how you felt?

Whatever he was doing, you didn’t want any part of it. You mumbled a goodbye before shaking your head and turning to walk away. 

“So that’s it?” he asked. Caliban hadn’t moved an inch when you turned around but he looked … sadder, less angry somehow. Still confusing.

“What do you want me to say?” you asked. “That we both knew this was a bad idea from the start? That I’m the idiot who got emotionally attached? Something like that, Caliban?” 

“Emotionally attached?” Caliban repeated. 

The bell rang before you could curse him out, so you decided to listen to divine intervention for once in your life and just walked away. Every step you took broke your heart a little more because the sound of your shoes hitting the ground reminded you that he was never going to come after you. 

---

A week passed and he still hadn’t come after you. It made being at school remarkably awkward given how your friends had attached to him, but you pushed through it. Until Harvey ambushed you. Meet him by the locker room after practice and you’d get lunch, he said. Bullshit. 

It was suspicious enough that he wanted you to wait for him by the locker room and even more so when it took him twenty minutes to change, but you let it slide. What you wouldn’t let slide, however, was when you came out of the restaurant bathroom and Caliban was seated across from Harvey. In your spot. 

“What the hell is going on here?” you asked, stopping in front of the table and pointing an accusatory finger at Harvey and then at Caliban. “You hate him.” 

“Yeah, but you don’t,” Harvey said, getting up to stop you from bolting out the door. “Just hear me out, okay?” 

“After this, I don’t think I’m listening to you ever again unless it’s to make fun of you,” you said. All your snark aside, you let Harvey guide you into a seat. But then he just sat there, looking nervous and unsure about the situation while you grew restless. “So are you going to say anything?” 

“Yeah. Yeah, totally,” Harvey said. He leaned closer and looked down for a second as he strung his thoughts together. “You guys have been huge downers since you broke up. You’re moping all the time and listening to sad music and you’re racing and getting into fights-” 

“You’re fighting again?” you asked, knitting your face together slightly as you looked at him. 

Caliban had told you bits and pieces about his fighting. He had anger issues as a kid so he’d always been in some kind of contact sport. Between that training and the bullying, he’d learned how to be a pretty decent fighter. And then he got old enough to get a believable fake ID and start fighting underground. God knows he didn’t need the money, but you had the feeling it was the only way he felt anything other than angry and empty.

“Not like that,” Caliban said quietly, looking at you for a moment before returning his attention to Harvey. 

Liar.

“Yeah, well, whatever,” Harvey said, skipping over all the tension. “Point is: You were annoying when you were dating, but it’s even worse when you’re not. Just talk it through, alright? Please?”

You shrugged and Harvey went on for a few more awkward minutes before getting up and telling you he’d be waiting in the car for you. The restaurant felt suffocatingly silent without him, but you didn’t know what to say and Caliban wasn’t exactly known for his emotional vulnerability. 

So you used this quiet time to think about how you’d paint this scene: You on one side of the table, muted colors and soft lines making you up but reds and oranges all around you, and Caliban on the other made up in harsh, black and white lines and blues surrounding him. You’d call it Starcross’d. Fake your death and sell it for thousands on the black market. 

It was the perfect plan, really, if it weren’t for those perfectly imperfect hands on the table. Calluses were starting to form on the undersides that you could only partially see, the knuckles were slightly swollen and red, and his boney fingers tapped the table absent-mindedly as he thought. All you wanted to do was reach out and hold them, a quality you could never capture on canvas. It fucked up your painting just like he fucked up everything else. 

“I’m not sure where to start,” Caliban said quietly. You’d been so busy staring at his hands that you hadn’t noticed him staring at you until you looked up. “I’ve never had this kind of relationship with someone, fake or not. It’s all very confusing.” 

That made you laugh a short and bitter laugh as you straightened up in your seat. “Yeah, tell me about it.” 

Caliban smiled slightly but there was something else there. He was nervous. “I’m not very good at this.”

“Try.” 

He took a breath and shifted in his chair, drawing his hands in and tapping them one more time. “This meant more to me than I expected it to,” Caliban said. “I thought it would be fun for a week or so to mess with Billy, and then when Harvey got so mad at me … He was talking to me again. I gave it another week.”

“Are you trying to tell me that you only liked me because it made Harvey mad?”

“That’s not what I meant.” Caliban sighed and mumbled under his breath about not being good at this. “What I meant is that I like you because you’re the only liar I’ve ever met who can’t throw a punch. You’re funny, and smart, and insanely competitive in a way that doesn’t make me care if I lose,” he said with a short laugh. “And you showed me that Harvey would still talk to me if I didn’t piss him off.” 

He looked annoyingly sincere as he spoke with his eyes avoiding yours. As much as you wanted to believe him, you weren’t sure you could open yourself up to him and his bullshit again.

“Let’s say I believe you - which I don’t - then why did you lie about you and Lucy?”

“I never lied about her,” Caliban said, careful to keep calm. He looked like he was straining to keep his voice even, clearly uncomfortable with talking about himself. “Lucinda was my best friend - my only friend - for many years but she can be … possessive. I went up to explain to her that I couldn’t do it again and tell her that I thought she should leave. She didn’t handle the rejection too well.” 

“It didn’t look like a rejection from where I was standing,” you mumbled. 

“I know, and I’m sorry. Truly,” Caliban said, almost reaching across to you. He took a breath and pulled his hand back. “She kissed me and I panicked like a stupid twelve-year-old boy. You caught the wrong end of it and I just thought … you deserved so much better than me anyway. If you wanted to leave, I wasn’t going to be the one to hold you back.” 

“Bullshit.” You leaned forward and got close enough that he had to take his eyes off his hand and look at you. Your voice was harsher than you meant it to be, but you were still so angry at him. “You didn’t stop me because you were scared, not because you’re some noble knight.”

“Don’t you get it?” Caliban asked, his voice just as harsh as yours. “That’s the point. I didn’t come after you because that’s not who I am. I am not a noble knight. I’m not the person you deserve.”

“You don’t get to make decisions about what I deserve,” you said. You were close enough to him still that you could almost feel him breathing. It made your heartbeat annoyingly fast. 

“I should. You might end up with a good guy,” Caliban said quietly, dropping his eyes to his hands again. They were close to your own now that you’d gotten all up in his face, but he wasn’t moving them any closer.

“Believe it or not, I still think you’re a good guy,” you said, voice just as quiet. “I’m just not sure if I … I don’t know if I can do this again. All the lying and secret-keeping.” Caliban started pulling away and saying something but you grabbed hold of his hand. “So if we do this again-” you said, talking over his arguing “-Then we do it for real. No more lying from either of us.” 

Caliban took a breath as he adjusted to the new position the two of you were in. He started untangling one of his hands and you held tighter before he tilted his head slightly and pulled his hand free. He lifted it to move some hair out of your face.

“I never lied to you.”

“Then you’ve got nothing to lose,” you said with a small smile. 

He shook his head and smiled to himself as he looked down at the table. “Are you sure you want to do this again?” 

Honestly, no. The only thing you were sure about was that your life kind of sucked without that pissed off Abercrombie & Fitch model. 

That, and if you ever saw Lucy again you’d knock her teeth out. 

“Well, it’s either you or Billy, and I fucking hate Billy,” you said.  

At least he laughed at your joke, that was progress. 

“Alright,” Caliban said eventually. He still seemed sad but he was calmer as he looked back up at you. “But you need to let me make this up to you before anything else.” 

You smiled. “I’m sure you’ll figure something out, Abercrombie. And you know where to find me when you do.” 

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[nelllraiser]

hell hath no fury | luce & nell

PREVIOUSLY: Plot Drop Page, Plot Overview

LOCATION: Montgomery’s House

TIME: 6:17 PM

PARTIES: Luce Vural and Nell Vural

TRIGGERS: Sibling Death mention, Vomit (brief description)

‘hell hath no fury like a sister scorned’

To think that all along, Montgomery’s house had been hidden in the Outskirts, the same part of the town Bea’s house was in. Of course, the Outskirts were fairly massive, and his dwelling wasn’t all that close to the Vural home. But still, it was close enough to make Nell’s head spin a bit. She was creeping through the undergrowth that surrounded the home, looking through the windows of the home to see if she found any movement hinting at someone being home. “I’ll do a revealing spell.” Hopefully there wouldn’t be any sort of magical protection preventing the spell from working. As Nell tapped her foot against the ground, a wave of magic flooded towards the home. Nothing alive registered in the home, meaning that Montgomery wasn’t there. Perfect. It was time to get her sister’s head back. “We’re clear,” she said to Luce, adrenaline rising in her veins. She was confident in her magic, but she couldn’t help some of the anticipation that was bubbling within her. This was the home of the man who’d murdered Bea, and now she was bringing her other sister into it. It almost seemed like asking for Luce to get hurt.

When Nell had told her that she’d found out who was behind this, Luce hadn’t waited for an invitation to go with her. If they were going to bring Bea back, they were going to do it together. They were all that each other had, she wasn’t going to lose her baby sister too. She wasn’t going to let that happen. If Nell went somewhere, Luce would follow. Like she hadn’t before. Following closely behind Nell, she nodded in acknowledgement, her hands curling up into tight fists at her side, prepared to set the forest alight at the slightest provocation. Montgomery. That was his name. Having a name, seeing a home, it didn’t make what he’d done any less horrific. If anything, it made the crime he’d committed all the more real. He was a person, just the same as them. And he had killed their sister, had taken her head. “Sounds good.” She muttered before testing the door. Locked. Not super surprising. “You happen to know how to pick locks?” Luce joked, though in the back of her mind she couldn’t help but wonder what else Nell might be hiding from her. She’d known what Jared was, didn’t seem all that bothered by the prospect of dark magic, of necromancy. “Or I can just melt the doorknob, whatever.”

Nell hadn’t shared the name before, not wanting to give Montgomery the satisfaction of his name being spoken aloud to anyone even remotely related to Bea. He didn’t deserve to be spoken in the same sentence as her, and Nell also didn’t want the piece of information getting out. If others knew who’d done it, no doubt they’d seek their own retribution. And as far as she was concerned, Montgomery’s life only belonged to three people. Herself, Luce, and of course...Bea. It was the only reason they weren’t here to kill today, to make sure that their older sister got her own chance to exact revenge alongside them. Nell shrugged at her sister’s question. “I mean, maybe not the conventional way.” She considered using her own magic to quietly take care of the door, but why be quiet? He would know they’d been here when he found the head missing. Why not make a petty mess along the way? “I’d love to see it melt, though,” she offered back with a slightly sadistic grin. 

Well, at least Nell probably wasn’t moonlighting as a burglar. At her sister’s grin, Luce offered a similarly cruel slash of a smile before moving to grasp the doorknob. Before her hands touched it, she engulfed the metal handle in blue flame. Concentrated fury and magic mingled together into a single jet of heat. The handle began to bubble, the surface changing color as heat permeated through the metal. It took a minute of pure concentrated will, soon the doorknob was nothing more than a molten mass of dripping metal, spilling onto the ground. Extinguishing the flames with a single motion, Luce kicked the door open, rattling the heavy frame. “What the fuck..?” Luce asked as she stared at the house they’d just broken into. Taxidermied animals of all kinds decorated the home-- if she could even call it that. It looked more like a big game museum than a home. Her train of thought was broken as a loud beeping filled the room and her eyes flicked over to the keypad on the wall. With an annoyed glance, she shot a small burst of fire at the panel and the circuitry promptly died, overheated and destroyed. A security system wasn’t all that out of place, but the rest of it… What the fuck was this place? Who was this man? 

A small, mirthless laugh fell from Nell as she watched the doorknob melt beneath Luce’s hand. This simple, small act felt good. It was nothing to compare to killing her sister, but it was the first action they'd taken against Montgomery that was malicious ever since Bea had fallen, and it stoked the flames of revenge that had been lying in wait within Nell. She wanted more. But today wasn’t the day for that. They needed to get in and out, to retrieve Bea’s head before the hunter returned and found them here. Then again...that didn’t mean they couldn’t have a little fun along the way. Nell walked through the door as if she owned the place, letting the scene that greeted her fill her with even more anger. He’d hunted her- hunted Nell and Bea like they’d been one of the animals lining every wall in the home. Pettily, Nell reached up and wrenched the nearest mounted head from the wall, throwing it to the ground before blasting it with magic, watching the thing shrivel in on itself. Kaden had said there was a basement where the heads had been kept, along with the Selkie skins he wanted her to take back. “I don’t see it- not in here.” Bea’s head wasn’t with these ones. Spotting a hallway not far from her, she began to advance down it.

“What kind of sick freak…” Luce breathed as she looked at one of the stranger creatures that decorated the home-- she’d never seen half the creatures that filled the room. Some were animals, but most were of the magical variety. The sound of nails being wrenched from wood jolted her and she watched as Nell destroyed one of the mounted heads, the stuffed remains crumpling to nothing. “We’ll find--” Luce hesitated to say “it.” This was Bea, this was a part of her. The most crucial part of her. “We’ll get what we came for.” She amended. That said… they could still have a little fun. And, what better way to have fun than ruin a madman’s murder house? Luce followed after her sister at an easy pace. As she did, she ran her hand along the hallway. Five thin lines of flame trailed across the wallpaper, across photographs, stuffed heads, carefully mounted collections of pixie wings. As she followed Nell into a room, Luce snuffed out the flames, leaving a smoking, charred hallway behind her. “If I was some fucked up Saw villain, where would I put my latest victim. The basement. Of course he’d have a basement.” She growled with a shake of her head. Fucking murderer.

It wasn’t the first time Nell had wished she had fire magic. There’d been a long few years growing up that she’d yearned for it, wanted nothing more than to have the gift the rest of her family had been given, if only because it might earn her the recognition of her mother. But it’d been an even longer while since she’d had that wish, having grown into her own beyond the wishes and approval of Nisa. Still- it was times like these that she found herself admiring how easily destructive it could be. If she could burn the entire home to the ground, she happily would. And certainly she could make it all through other means, but there was simply something satisfying in the way the wallpaper curled and burned and charred. This room was no more fruitful than the last in terms of finding Bea’s head, but her eyes narrowed as she spotted a set of stairs. “Kaden told me it’s a windowless basement room or something.” As always, she was focused when it came to things relating to Bea, not nearly so chatty as she generally was. 

Luce’s frustration only grew as she and Nell’s search continued to turn up empty. What the fuck had he done with her? Where the fuck had he hidden her? The longer they spent in this fucked up hellhole of a house, the more and more Luce wanted to destroy it. She wanted to burn it to the ground. She wanted to destroy everything he had built, leave nothing but ash in her wake. But, she couldn’t do that until she and Nell found what they came for. Looking at the stairs Nell pointed out, Luce nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, sounds about right.”

Nell followed the stairs down, brows drawing together as she was met with a heavy door at the base of them. It looked rather fortified, made of shiny steel with big, metal beams latticing it. This had to be it, didn’t it? The place Kaden had been talking about? It fit his directions. This was where Bea’s head would be. If it wasn’t, Nell wasn’t sure what the next step was. She hadn’t been in any of the other rooms. Her hand was raised against the door, giving it an experimental push. Nothing happened, not even the slightest budge as she added more weight behind the shove. There wasn’t so much as a lock on the door, but it seemed determined not to budge. “Might as well barbecue this one too, right?” Not wanting Luce to have to do all the work, Nell bit her thumb until it bled, rolling her sleeve up to reveal one of her summoning tattoos. It was the one Luce hadn’t inked on her, Nell having gotten it while she was abroad. She’d also been unwilling to have this particular circle done on her by Luce, as hellhounds weren’t exactly clean of a demon reputation. But now- what was there to lose? In the flash of an eye, one of the hellhounds sprang forth from Nell’s arm. It was Shaggy, the biggest of the boys. “He can help- not that you need it. Just- don’t want you wasting any strength.” 

 Descending the stairs, Luce stared at the steel door that stood before them. Nothing was ever easy. It couldn’t have been a quick and simple, get in, get Bea back, get out, could it? She watched as Nell tried to force the door, but was unsurprised when the effort was made in vain. “Yeah, I can give it a shot.” She said, though the idea had her apprehensive. Her magic was strong, stronger than it had ever been, but this was a steel fucking door. Keeping up a blast of heat to melt through the mechanisms that held the door shut would take time and energy. The effort would be… immense, to say the least. As she took a few deep breaths, preparing herself for the sheer output of magic she was going to be drawing upon, Luce caught sight of her sister rolling up her sleeve in the corner of her eye. A tattoo, one that she didn’t recognize but she could see the familiar circles of a summoning tattoo. She hadn’t done that one. Before Luce could ask what she was doing, a hulking monstrous creature appeared next to her. “A hellhound. Nell--” She stared, incredulously before swallowing. First finding out about Nell’s involvement with some kind of Ring thing, then Bea’s necromancy books and altar, and now this? “Yeah. Yeah, just… tell him to focus on the lock. I can’t melt an entire door, but if we can get the locking shit melted down, it’ll be fine.” She said, forcing herself to focus on the task at hand. Even so, it was troubling. How much did she really know about her sisters?

Nell swallowed hard as Luce fixated on the hellhound for a moment, not meeting her sister’s eyes. “I can explain it...later,” she said softly, knowing that there were apparently too many things the sisters didn’t know about each other between all these revelations. “No more secrets once this is all over.” Not after this. Not after it had gotten Bea killed. And Luce deserved to know the whole truth of why August had gone after her. She turned her attention back to the hound, giving him an encouraging nod. “You heard her, Shaggy.” The demon dog took his stance, at the ready to provide whatever it was Nell might need, and opened his maw to let forth the red hot flames his kind were known for, aimed as much as he could manage towards the pieces Luce had mentioned. 

“Just as long as you explain eventually.” Luce said, still staring at the hellhound. “No more secrets.” She echoed. How much had her sisters hid from her? How much were they hiding? Remmy had told her that Nell had fought alongside them against a giant fucking lobster and here she was summoning fucking demon dog bullshit. Necromancy. Dark magic. Christ. How was it that she was the only who’d never felt the need to play with the laws of nature? Fuck. Shifting her attention to the door, Luce channeled her rage, her frustration, her irritation with all the lies and the secrets into a concentrated jet of blue flame. With the hellhound’s flames adding the support she needed, the minutes ticked away, the air around them growing burning hot as the metal glowed and melted before them. Sweat ran down her face, dripping down her arms as she continued to pour power into it. Eventually, the flames had pierced through the metal and Luce killed the flames before falling to her knees, panting from the energy. “Gimme… gimme a second.” She gasped, her head spinning. She’d expended so much of her magic on just burning through and now she was… left with nothing in the tank. Fire. That’s all she was good for. Not necromancy, not summoning, not anything else. Just firepower. Gritting her teeth, Luce forced herself to stand, leaning against the wall heavily. “Let’s get her back.”

“I will,” Nell affirmed, knowing they couldn’t afford to be like this any longer. The sisters had been disjointed for too long. They weren’t meant to be exactly a set, but still gears that could mesh and come together to work towards a greater purpose, family that knew their function in the grand scheme of things, how to make the machine work when they needed to. But how were they meant to slot into place when there were entire corners of each other they didn’t know? Spaces that had grown dark and damp and hidden in darkness where their sisters hadn’t been allowed to shine their lights, fumbling in that inky blackness to try and remember where the teeth lined up with one another. Nell had been too caught up in her thoughts to realize that Luce was overdoing it, and instinctively jerked forwards to lay a hand on her sister’s shoulder as she fell. “Luce? Luce, are you alright?” Worry laced her voice despite knowing this was a perfectly normal side effect of magic, as she couldn’t help that losing Bea had made her hypersensitive to her remaining sister’s struggles. Not asking, knowing that Luce would most likely rebuke an open and spoken offer to help, Nell reached out for her sister’s hand, letting her own magic flow into Luce to give her strength. “We’ll get her back. Together.” 

Luce’s vision went black for a moment, spots of white appearing in her vision as she pressed her back against the wall. She felt Nell’s hand press against her shoulder, felt her cool touch on her skin. She couldn’t make out her words, but she could hear the tone. Shaking her head, she swallowed, “It’s okay, I’m okay.” She said with a wave of her hand, taking deep breaths to steady herself. As she focused on her breathing, Luce felt a small stream of magic trickle through her-- Nell’s energy. Her vision cleared up and her breathing eased as strength returned to her body. “Thanks.” She managed, patting Nell’s hand on her shoulder briefly before pushing off from the wall. Her knees felt weak, but at least she was sure she could walk now. “Together.” Luce nodded as she pressed her boot against the cooling steel door and pushed into the basement safe room.

Nell should have been prepared for what was inside the basement room, but even by her standards and the things she’d seen...it was grotesque. Countless trophies strewn about the place, with many a head in jars lining the area as she reflexively began to look for one that was familiar. Jesus. How fucked was this? She was scanning jarred heads to find the one that belonged to her sister. With the hand still on Luce’s shoulder, she steeled her heart and stomach, knowing that the sight of Bea’s head wouldn’t be a happy one. She just needed to shut everything down like she’d been doing, not let any emotion in to touch her and wrap the deliciousness numbness around her like a blanket as she continued to search. “Do you...see her?” There were the selkie skins Kaden had mentioned, put up in a proud display that made Nell’s anger burn fiery in her stomach. She’d take them like she’d promised after they found Bea.

While the upper levels of the house had looked like some big game hunter’s wet dream, this was literally something out of a goddamn horror movie. Jars with light colored fluid and heads floating in them. Was Bea’s head in one of them? Luce’s stomach turned as she made her way on unsteady legs into the room. “I’ll check the top shelves.” She said, her voice even and calm despite her emotions. She was exhausted, drained of magic, but that didn’t change the fact that all of this was weighing heavily upon her psyche. But, they had to do this. She had to do this. To face the reality of what had happened. As Luce looked around, her eyes fell on a large jar and she let out a choking sob. “Nell.” She said, grasping her sister’s shoulder as she pointed at the corner of one of the upper most shelves. Through the cloudy glass, she could see her sister’s face, the clean slice across her neck, her dark hair a tangled mess, her skin an awful, greying pallor. Weakened by the effort of melting the door and the rush of horror that washed over her, Luce turned around and retched, her stomach spilling its contents on the floor. 

Nell knew what Luce had found simply by the strain in her voice, could tell what her sister had seen by the utter shock in the words. Her stomach dropped, having wished she’d be the first one to find it, so she could cover it from Luce’s sight or something of that like. It was too late now. Nell didn’t want to look, didn’t want to see the missing part of her sister’s body after already having dealt with the headless portion of it. But they needed to be out of here as quickly as possible, not knowing when Montgomery might be returning. So she turned towards Bea’s head, bile rising in her throat as she did. She had to be sure, to really get a good look and make sure it was her sister. They would be no coming back, not after they’d left a mess behind. There she was, the face of the sister that had been a constant in her life looking back at her from the inside of a jar. Jesus fucking christ. It was her, there was no doubt. Quickly, Nell shrugged out of her jacket, and threw it over the jar. They didn’t need to see this any longer than they already had. Tentatively, she took the jar in her arms, at odds with whether she wanted to drop it and run to the furthest edge of the Earth, or make sure it never came to harm. She could feel the head bumping lightly against the sides of the jar as it sloshed within it, and she again has to steel herself from losing her own lunch. Fuck fuck fuck. Get out. Get out and put the head down and then she wouldn’t have to look at it again until the ceremony. She couldn’t break now, not when there was still so much to do. “I’ve got it- I’ve got her,” she said, turning to Luce to make sure her sister was recovering from her violent reaction. Again she asked, “Are you alright?” The selkie skins caught her eye once more, but with her hands now full and unwilling to relinquish Bea, she asked Luce another question. “If you could- can you get the selkie skins? I told Kaden I’d bring them back. He has a friend or something that’s looking for them. Not in a Hunter way,” she clarified.

Shivering as she stood upright, Luce spat bile to the ground and shook her head. Weak. She was fucking… weak. She had to be better than this, stronger than this. Whatever it takes, that’s what she’d told Adam. It’s what she told herself now as she looked over at Nell, her sister cradling that jar in her arms, jacket thrown over top of it. “Sorry. Sorry, I fucking…” She said, shame on her face. “I know that she’s dead. I knew that before. But seeing her, like that… What he’d done to her, I just… I couldn’t fucking handle it.” She said, her jaw clenching tightly. At Nell’s request, Luce raised an eyebrow but nodded all the same. Secrets. More secrets. And maybe this one wasn’t Nell’s to share, but right about now, Luce had enough of being kept in the dark. No more goddamn secrets. Once Bea was back, once they were sure that she was right and whole, she was going to sit the two of them down and make sure they talked about everything. Glancing at the lightbulb tattooed on the inside of her arm, Luce swallowed. Everything. “Sure.” She said before grabbing the selkie skins from where they were displayed. What kind of fucked up guy went after selkies? They were harmless, they were just fucking seals for christs sake. Bundling them up in her arms, Luce walked towards the melted door and pushed it open with her back, the hot metal barely warm against her skin. “Let’s get the fuck outta here.” Looking at the hellhound that had remained outside, she looked at Nell. “Wanna have Shaggy light it up?”

Nell didn’t judge Luce for her reaction in the least, and tried to make it clear that it had only been normal. “I did it when- when I first saw her...after everything” she offered softly, hoping it’d make Luce feel better to know that she wasn’t the only one who had such reactions to seeing their sister like this. “I get it. It’s just- it’s wrong.” She took comfort in watching Luce reclaim the skins, glad to know that hopefully...someone might get their happiness back from this if they managed to get a skin returned to them. Holding onto that kernel of warmth to center herself, she followed Luce back out of the room, where Shaggy was waiting with a wagging tail. “You’re just full of good ideas today, Luce,” she said before giving the hellhound a nod of affirmation. He didn’t hesitate to light the room alblaze, siren feathers and lamia skins catching fire, quickly spreading to every corner of the room. Nell turned her back as the glass of the jars began to melt from the heat of the inferno the dog had struck into a frenzy, leading the way back upstairs, and out of the house. Let the fire burn. With luck, it would take the entire house with it, and all the trophies Montgomery prized. It was a small strike against the man who’d wronged them, but a hit nonetheless, and Nell’s own fiery vengeance that seemed to live in her stomach these days was stoked to life, crackling comfortably as it finally gained a taste of the satiation she’d been desperately craving since that day in the forest with the hunter. She didn’t try to keep the smoke billowing from the house, letting it be a message to the man and whoever else might see it along the skyline. They were coming, and they wouldn’t stop until Montgomery was ashes as well.

[neokollection]

Kissing Out of Jealousy

NCT U + Yuta

‘Can I request a NCT U kissing you out of jealousy?’

A/N: I’m sure there’s already a reaction of this, but I’m here to add another :^) This is assuming you’re dating for some members, but for some you’re not dating, they like you- THIS IS LONG BTW!! [Kinda more like a mini drabble per each member]

** Language, some suggestive themes, but nothing explicit ** ik some ppl don't find jealousy cute so don't read if you not into that..

Taeil:

Taeil wasn’t the type to get jealous easily or behave pettily- Rather, he was just protective at times and would feel he’d have to interject to save you from situations... Whether you were feeling uncomfortable or not- Yet a part of your boyfriend also felt slightly neglected, a faithful dog waiting on the other side of the fence with it’s tail wagging at the sight of it’s owner, even though it’s owner was petting the neighbor’s cat.

He called out your name in the hopes of getting your attention as he watched you and Ten staring at your screens before nudging each other continuously with a laugh to show the other a recent entertaining Tweet. He was all for you bonding with the other boys, but he’d missed you this week and throughout the day constantly stuck by your side. Placing the bowl of steaming popcorn upon the coffee table, he took his seat beside you on the couch, hand patting around for the remote he’d dropped there moments before.

“OMG- You have to show that to Mark,” Ten gasped, covering his mouth to conceal his wicked grin as he looked at the meme you’d stumbled upon of Mark’s shorts.

“Let me see,” Taeil added, not wanting to miss out and curious as to what was so funny.

He leant in, eyes flickering to Ten as he watched the younger lean back into the couch, thumbs moving rapidly upon his screen. Taeil listened amusedly as he heard your small chuckle in his ear, a smile gracing his lips as he saw your screen before drawing back partially.

“You’re amused so easily,” he chuckled, nose nearly brushing your own as he leant nearer, a hand shooting to your waist to tickle you gently.

“Says you,” you squirmed with a bright smile.

Finally, his forehead rest upon your own, his antics stilling as he closed the gap between the two of you for a quick kiss. Embarrassed about kissing so openly with Ten by your side, you felt a blush creep upon your cheeks as you pulled away shyly. You could have sworn Taeil’s gaze jumped from your lips to your eyes to Ten before he closed the gap once more- You let out a muffled chuckle against his lips as your hands went to the front of his shirt to slow him down and steady yourself.

“Ew- God- Could you not?” Ten whined in disapproval, scooting away.

You could feel Taeil’s smile against your lips before he drew back, eyes as lively as ever.

Smothering you and being that cute couple to show off and make others wanna gag, but not let you think it’s a jealousy thing-

Taeyong:

Easily, one of the most jealous man you’d ever dated. He had his share of insecurities that make him question whether he’s worthy of love and attention, and an anxiety about losing the person he cherishes the most... So, seeing your interactions with your old classmates made him feel even more insecure in the moment. He’d had a stressful and busy week and hadn’t gotten to see you much, merely late calls that usually didn’t last long because he’d coax you to go to sleep early since you’re busy as well. Meeting a few of your old high school classmates, totally coincidentally at Gong Cha was all it took for him to have a small internal freak out. He already didn’t like that they were guys, even more so that they’d known you longer than he had technically... He felt excluded- He always wanted to be a part of every part of your life and have you in every part of his- To him your soulmates and he didn’t like feeling as though someone had a leg up on him in regards to you.

“You look great! Wow- It’s been a minute, but wow-” one of your old classmates gushed, stunned by how you’d matured and glowed up through the years spent apart.

You gave a small chuckle in return, “I’m surprised you recognized me-”

“I mean how could I forget (Y/n)?” he joked, gesturing towards you, followed by a few hums of the other classmates beside him.

You weren’t exactly sure what he meant by that- You didn’t think of yourself as too memorable of a person during high school. You’re boyfriend disliked it even more, a scowl etched into his features- He didn’t like not being in the know or what exactly the man meant.

“Well, it’s a small world I guess,” you wrapped up awkwardly, “It was nice to see you,” you added, able to feel Taeyong’s calculating gaze.

Sighing to yourself, you took a sip of your tea, inviting Taeyong to ask whatever he was going to ask.

“Were you popular in high school?”

“No,” you huffed, “Not really anyway- I’ve already told you about my high school- I wasn’t even friends with those guys... I can’t believe he recognized me.”

‘You’re just too pretty to be forgettable’ was what Taeyong had been thinking, but decided to keep it in. He could still feel their fleeting gazes glancing towards you as they sat down in laughter- He didn’t like that... What were they talking about? You? Were they laughing about you? Who knew what prude remarks they were making.

“I’d have dated her back in junior year if I knew she was gonna turn out like this-”

Feeling jealous, protective, and anxious he stood, causing you to look up at him, “Where are you going..?”

“Bathroom,” he informed before bending down, his hand coming to cradle your jaw as he sealed your lips together in a sweet kiss- Lips tasting of caramel.

Your lips followed his own as he drew back, swiping his thumb endearingly across your cheek before giving it a gentle pinch. You pulled your face from his grasp at the action, playfully pouting at your cup of tea as he left the table.

“I know right-”

The voices got louder as he approached.

“Could you keep your voices down?” he asked, yet it wasn’t really a question- His tone and gaze icy and curt before he brushed past their table to the restroom.

Yuta:

Tossing in jealous Yuta because that’s hot-

You didn’t have to be dating Nakamoto Yuta for him to feel as strongly as he did. He felt like you were already his, his sweet, his dear, his precious- And he wasn’t going to let the world or anyone else take that away from him. You loved him as a friend- The two of you had crossed the boundary of friendship a few times with late night kisses and drunken texts- But there was something about his possessive nature that made you hesitant to progress any further with him. Just being his friend you felt like a prisoner-

“I have to drop by my brothers’ dorm to give him back his battery pack-” you began, halting as you remembered.

“I’ll go with you,” Yuta chimed, slinging an arm around your shoulder, pulling you into him as his other hand pulled the drawstrings of the hoodie harshly, causing it to close around your face.

You stumbled into him mid-step as he did so, whining dramatically as your hands attempted to shove him aside.

“My brother doesn’t like you,” you interjected, pulling the hood free from your mess of hair as Yuta released you.

With a shrug he focused his attention on taming your hair, the action causing your face to heat.

“You shouldn’t go into the boys dorm alone,” he reprimanded, motherly as ever.

Jaehyun. Your brother’s roommate and soccer teammate of Yuta- was coming down the very path you were on the quad.

“Jaehyun!” you called out suddenly, happy to find a delivery man.

His eyes darted from his phone to you, his brows knitting together seconds later-

“Hey,” he began, slowly letting his gaze drift between the two of you before to your hoodie.

“Uh... Is that your hoodie?”

“I stole it from my brother- Don’t tell,” you chuckled.

Letting out a soft chuckle of amusement, Jaehyun shook his head, “That’s not your brother’s- That’s mine. I’d been looking for it all week-”

“Oh my God!” you gasped, dropping the tote bag from your shoulder, “I’m so sorry! I- It was on his side of the room... So I thought-”

“It’s fine,” he interjected, “It looks good on you-”

Yuta’s gaze narrowed at that remark and before he even had a moment to stop you, you were peeling off the hoodie and offering it to an astonished Jaehyun. You saw no issue with it, you were wearing a t-shirt underneath.

“I’m so so sorry! Also...” you began, picking up your bag, “Could you give this to my brother?”

“Sure-” Jaehyun nodded, scratching the nape of his neck as you pushed the goods into his hands before whipping around and grabbing the side of Yuta’s plaid jacket to bring him in tow with you-

“O my God... That was so embarrassing-” you rambled, feeling your face hot in embarrassment.

Suddenly, Yuta’s feet stopped moving, causing you to stop. He removed his phone from the pocket of his jacket before slipping it into his jeans, removing his coat.

“What are you doing?” you asked dumbly before catching on, “N-No, I’m not cold or anything-”

Silently, he draped it over your shoulders before his hands slid to the open front of it, grasping it before pulling you closer by the collar. His lips melded with your own, needy and passionate, jealousy brewing in his heart at even a simple encounter. His hands slid down to the zipper, zipping it quickly as he pulled away, your arms constricted, a smug expression on his face before he began walking again.

“H-Hey! GET THIS off me!” empty sleeves flopping by your sides as you hobbled after him.

The type to give you a little taste of his cold shoulder and reprimanding you for being careless [about making him jealous basically].

Kun:

Respectful and mature bub who wouldn’t do anything unless the two of you were dating, and for a while.

He couldn’t understand why Xioajun was so clingy towards you- I mean... He understood it in a sense since he was also in a way- But it was different. You were taken- Xiaojun should have taken a hint from him by now. Kun was constantly swooping in to interrupt the too of you, the hint of a small grin gracing his features each time to hide his unkindly thoughts towards the younger.

“Does Xiaojun bother you?” he questioned, watching as you pulled on your socks from the doorway of your bedroom, his shoulder resting against the frame.

“No?”

Cocking your head to the side, you couldn’t understand what Kun was hinting at or why he was asking.

“He’s always around you...”

“Yeah,” you chuckled, “We’re friends.”

You stood, ready to pass by your boyfriend and slip on your shoes by the doorway, yet he didn’t budge.

“Well...” he began, “I don’t want to sound ...clingy, but I don’t like it-”

“There’s nothing to worr-”

You were mid-roll of your eyes, when he cut you off, his warm hand enveloping around your own, “You’re mine, right?”

There was a hint of something swimming in his chocolate gaze, as if a saddened part of him needed reassurance.

“O-Of course,” you admitted, blushing to yourself from feeling caught off guard.

“Then I have a right to be like this,” he added, voice softer.

You open and shut your mouth dumbly, not sure what to say in response. Yes? He to a degree had a right to feel jealous- But... There was really no reason to be jealous over Xiaojun- Tugging your hand forward gently, he drew you to meet his lips, lilting his neck down. His kiss was delicate, lips plush and substantial, but movements gentle and loving. Your knees felt weak, as if it was your first kiss again.

“Don’t worry about it,” you nearly whispered as he drew back, “I’ll try to be mindful,” you added, referring to distancing yourself a bit so Kun wouldn’t get the wrong impression again.

“We’re going to be late...”

Doyoung:

You drew back to take a breath before your lips were smothered again, his nostrils flaring in anger and also the need for oxygen. You whined gently against his lips, attempting to pull back once more. You panted, out of breath before placing a hand on Doyoung’s chest to keep him at bay.

He leant back over the center console, resting his head back against the padded seat. Finished clicking in your seat belt you looked at him.

“When you dress like that,” he began, nodding forward, “guys get the wrong idea.”

“N-”

“Like thinking you’re single and something for them to ogle at,” he added, cutting you off, “You have no idea what kind of sleaze bags were looking at you and what they were thinking-”

His fox-like eyes flickered back to you, taking a moment to glance at the obvious cleavage you’d put on display.

“I dressed up for you- I just… I wanted to feel sexy and make you-”

“Make me what? Upset?”

“No! Proud to be with me- To be attractive to you…”

Raking a hand through his hair he let his gaze fall upon your own.

“Don’t you get it?” he began, jabbing the keys into the ignition, “You’re always attractive to me- I always want you- I’m always proud of you- But I want to be the only one to see.. You don’t deserve them looking at you like that and it makes me sick,” he trailed off, quickly casting his gaze forward as he pulled away from the curb.

You felt a tingle jolt along your spine at his words.

Ten:

He’d been giving you a snarky attitude all day; curt remarks and dismissive glances. Sighing for the final time as he pretended to ignore you, you let your tongue poke at your cheek in annoyance.

“Look at me,” you probed.

His fingers halted before smashing the pause button on his game, tossing the controller aside him on the sofa as he let out his own sigh, his gaze continuing to be fixed upon the TV screen.

“Why are you being like this?”

You hated how beautiful his profile was, the slope of his sharp nose and outline of his soft lips.

“Why won’t you even talk to me?” you added, raising your tone.

“If you want someone to talk to why don’t you ask Taeyong?” he quipped, voice laced with venom.

Huffing in exasperation, you let your hands fall to your hips.

“Are you serious?”

Finally… he turned his dark gaze towards you.

“Yeah,” he nearly shrugged, attitude as petty as ever.

“You’re such a child!” you shouted, unable to control your emotions as you stormed away, frustrated and wanting to cry.

He paused for a moment before standing.

“I’m childish?” he asked, tone brazen and perplexed.

You stopped, turning on your heel-

“Then what?” he questioned, “Is Taeyong the man?”

Before you could spit out a reply he grabbed onto your elbow.

“I’m the only man you should see,” he barked.

“You are my only man…” you murmured, hurt he thought otherwise.

Cupping your face, he pulled you into him, lips messily finding one other before passionately embracing.

Omg I hate this one…

Jaehyun:

Far enough. Was what Jaehyun had been thinking.

His jaw was set, his lips pursing each time his eyes narrowed slightly, causing one of his dimples to gently show.

Sure, it was Taeyong’s birthday, but that didn’t mean he had the right to flirt with you-

“Is that right?” you giggled, after listening to one of Taeyong’s stories.

Your fork idly toyed with the pasta in your dish as you gave Taeyong your attention. The rest of the lunch table seemed chatty, side for Jaehyun whom pouted by your side. His silence was slowly steeling your attention away from Taeyong as you began to worry.

“You’ll have to excuse me for a moment,” you interjected, glancing towards the bathroom.

Your plan was simple, take a break from Taeyong by using the restroom before retuning and turning to Jae to give your attention and ask what was up. As you stood Johnny began speaking to Taeyong, allowing you the perfect cover to escape. As you did, someone snagged you by your belt loop. Your forlorn boyfriend looking up at you with eyes you couldn’t place.

“Where are you going?”

“Bathroom,” you whispered, your brows furrowing in concern at his oddness.

He released you, standing himself to follow you.

“Why are you being so weird?” you inquired, rounding a corner with him.

“I’m jealous,” he admitted.

“Wh- How? What’s there to be jealous about?” you stumbled.

Instead of answering or explaining, he cornered you against the wall once the two of you were hidden from sight in the hall of the bathroom.

“Babe,” you began, your voice lowering.

Being under his gaze in such close quarters you felt trapped, trying to think of what he’d want to hear to be reassured. You bit your lip in thought. Warm lips clashed with your own, not too aggressive, nor gently. The breath that had gotten caught in your throat came out as a sigh against his lips as his hands slid from the wall on either side of your shoulders to your hips.

“We can’t do this here,” you nearly whispered, your lips brushing his own in temptation.

Ignoring you, his hasty lips met yours again, causing you to let out a small moan of protest.

“Oh- God-” Ten sputtered, shielding his eyes from the entrance of the hallway as he saw the two of you.

Your fist came in contact with Jae’s pec as he broke away from you.

...When you came back to the table you could feel everyone’s gaze upon the two of you, lowering your gaze in embarrassment as Jaehyun wore a smug grin.

Win:

Cold shoulders were never fun, especially when dealing with your best friend Sicheng. He sat several rows in front of you in the lecture hall instead of beside you, scrolling through his phone and clearly avoiding your texts. You bit your pen cap in annoyance as you stared at the back of his head.

“Maybe they broke up-”

It was a hushed whisper, but you were able to here it.

“Just go talk to her-”

Evidently Sicheng heard it too, his thumb having stopped scrolling and his ears perked.

“Hey,” a gentle voice said, taking the seat beside you.

“H-Hi,” you fumbled, baffled as to why Mark Lee was sitting next to you.

“This seat’s not taken, is it?”

“No,” you enunciated, making sure it was clearly loud enough for Sicheng to hear in an attempt to be petty.

“Cool- Well, uh, there’s this party at Alpha Delta Si later,” he began, “If you wanted to go, you could be my plus one- Honestly, we’ve had this class together all semester and I thought you were cute-”

You were flattered by his invitation, but frat parties weren’t really your scene.

Glancing over his shoulder at the encounter, Sicheng was caught by your gaze.

“Oh- Uh, I’ll have to think about it, parties like that aren’t really my thing-” you declined politely.

“O-Oh,” Mark nodded, retracting to his seat in thought as the professor entered.

The entire lesson you and Sicheng fumed with thoughts of each other, unable to concentrate. The lesson seemed to end in record time, not that you were paying attention.

“So, um, if parties aren’t your thing we could do something like uh... get ice cream, or-”

Once you’d stood to stuff your belongings in your bag, Mark was back at it again. However, your sleeve was yanked by the ever so thoughtful Sicheng, pulling you from the row and tugging you up the stairs of the lecture hall. You stumbled after him dumbly until he shoved the door open with such force you were scared for a moment.

“Stop-” you shot, pulling from his grip.

“Was I interrupting something?” he asked bitterly.

“What the fuck is your problem? I thought you-”

You could feel the gaze of several classmates in the hallway, feeling embarrassed. Behind you, Sicheng saw the door of the lecture hall swing open with none other than Mark and Jeno, his eyes narrowing as he caught Mark’s gaze. Swooping in, his hand clamped over your forearm to pull you to meet his lips, his blunt nails digging into your sweater. He was overwhelming, figure looming over your own, hasty lips pushing against your own, you felt lost in your shock.

Jungwoo:

“Let me up,” you huffed for what felt like the fifth time.

A hum of disapproval left the boy who’d constricted himself around you.

“Woo- I’ll be late for my shift...” you tried, sighing to yourself.

“Don’t go,” he murmured.

“I have to go- My supervisor will be mad if I’m late again...”

“Your supervisor,” he began, sitting up, his fluff of hair bouncing, unfit of his narrowing eyes, “I don’t like him.”

“It doesn’t matter if you like him or not-”

You struggled in his hold, but he draped a leg over your hips to bar your escape, hugging you closer.

“He’s creepy.”

“Yeah, he is,” you agreed with an airy chuckle, “But that doesn’t matter, I need to keep my wage-”

Rolling on top of you, you let out a whine under his weight. Cutely, he blew the hair out of your face, not daring to remove his hands from wrapped around you for fear of you escaping. You giggled and writhed at his actions, shaking the hair from your face. He plopped a soft kiss upon your lips, smothering your own before drawing back momentarily.

“Don’t go.”

His lips didn’t give yours time to spit out a retort, softly melding with yours with passion. Had it been any other day or any other occasion, you would have skipped whatever event there was to stay with him, but you couldn’t miss today... Shaking your head to shake his lips off your own, he groaned against your lips, unrelenting. You couldn’t help but let out a chuckle of anguish against his lips, following it with a low whine. He bit your lip in retaliation gently, shifting on top of you as you squealed and wiggled beneath him.

“You’re being childish,” you gasped, nostrils flaring with the need for air.

Lucas:

“Baby-”

Yukhei’s deep voice reverberated through your being as his lips brushed your ear.

“Why are you watching that?”

In your defense, you hadn’t searched for it, rather it was in your suggestions and you just so happened to be curious by the amount of views it had. A Doyoung, Boss focus cam- Nor were you expecting your friend-with-benefits to be up so early... He usually slept well past ten.

“I couldn’t sleep,” you partially lied.

“Do you like him?”

“Uh,” you stalled, glancing over your bare shoulder, “It’s not like I know him-”

“I mean,” he corrected, “Do you think he’s sexy?”

Your expression morphed into one of confusion at his most likely horny what-the-fuckery.  If you said yes would he set up a threesome?

“Yeah.”

A warm hand slid over your bare arm, trailing to your shoulder before moving to your throat. He didn’t like that answer- Though the two of you weren’t official, he had real feelings for you- Which is why he called you baby, and told you to stay the night when you’d start searching for your clothes the night before...

“What about me?” he groaned gently.

Dropping your phone aside, you rolled over to your side, your hand going to his wrist to stop the growing pressure he applied.

“Yeah, you’re sexy,” you rolled your eyes, knowing he was immaturely jealous.

“Am I sexier?”

He drew you closer, his nose brushing against your own as he awaited your answer.

“I’m not sure,” you teased, withholding a giggled at how his eyes widened.

He let out a chuckle too, able to catch onto your teasing attitude.

“I must be since I’m the one with you and not him,” he muttered with a smile, rolling over on top.

His lips claimed your own in an arduously slow kiss, his hand fumbling to reach over and turn off your phone.

Mark:

Alone, in bed, on his phone- Mark’s evening was rather bland. He’d been on a call with you while you’d been getting ready to come over, content with just listening to your voice.

“Why do you take so long to get ready?” he questioned with a sigh, “Just come over already.”

“I have to look good,” you countered, “You said Johnny was home...”

And here it was, the recent reason for Mark’s despise of Johnny Suh, one of his closest friends.

“Bro- So what... You’re coming over to see me, not him-”

That was true-

“Yeah, but if I do see him-”

“Whatever, just hurry up,” Mark complained, his tone snappish as he hung up.

It was hard getting friend-zoned, let alone having the girl you like be into your best friend instead.

Fifteen minutes later you were checking your reflection on your phone before the door, collecting yourself before ringing the doorbell.

Answering it, Mark felt his heart clench- You looked ridiculously cute, glossy lips, curled lashes, slight wind-blown hair, and the oversized Puma hoodie you’ d bought last week to match your leggings. He wish you were getting all dolled up for him, causing a pang of jealousy to stab him.

“I’ll pay for delivery since you paid last time,” you remarked, stepping through the doorway to remove your shoes as your eyes searched for the giant of your affection.

Yet he was nowhere in sight... Making your way to Mark’s room with your bag, dropping it to his bed and plugging your phone into his charger. You heard the distinct sound of the refrigerator opening, bottles rattling- Perhaps it was Johnny. Turning on your heel, you planned upon seeing whom it was, but a Mark Lee was blocking your path, having just entered the threshold of his room.

“Lemme see,” you pried, your brows furrowing as he closed the door behind himself.

“It’s Taeil,” he lied, knowing what you were after.

You still wanted to check for yourself, even give the senior a greeting.

“Uh, let me through,” you paused as Mark remained in his spot.

“Why’s it always go to be about him?”

“I- What do you-”

“You know what I mean,” he interjected, raising his voice, “All of a sudden everything’s about him-”

“That’s not true,” you tried, folding your arms defensively.

“Yes it is,” he retorted, taking a step toward you, his bad attitude and mood nearly radiating off his figure, “We can’t even hang out like we used to because you’re always preoccupied with him-”

“I can’t help that I like him!” you shot back.

It took only another step and Mark was in front of you, his hands flying to grip your shoulders as his nose brushed yours for only a millisecond- You couldn’t contemplate what was taking place and before it registered, his lips were on your own, sticky lip gloss transferring.

[spideyspeaches]

Pretty lies (ugly truths)

A/N: This was something I wrote as soon as I heard Clean also that was 2019 and @peterspideysstuff​ made me do it smh. I’m proud of it so don’t let this flop 🙂

WC: 3.3k+

Warnings: Please read these before going ahead- mentions of CSA (Skip Wescott), brief description of dissociation.

Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

Masterlist || Taglist

It was the little things that you noticed in Peter. He was your closest friend ever, the best person to have ever entered your life next to Tony Stark, the man who had adopted you the moment he laid his eyes on you. 

You always noticed when it came to Peter, the way he jumped around when he was in a happy mood, or when he scored a hundred in chemistry and he would flail his hands in the air and hug you as tightly as he could without crushing your bones with his super strength. You had met him when you were both eight- he had come with his uncle Ben to tour Stark Industries, and you both had snuck out to eat some pizza while the adults talked. 

You would never forget that day, because it was the day the two of you became inseparable. He would often visit you since then, in Pepper’s penthouse, and you always cherished those visits. He shared everything in his life with you, he was an open book to you, a dog eared page that you could open with a flick of your fingers.                                      

Coming back from the dead post blip was the final straw. No one could separate you two, and when May and Peter had finally agreed to live in the Lake House (only during the weekends though, since it was far from his school), it was the life of a party for You.

"And you three, don't wreck the house and if I found out that the kitchen is on fire-" Pepper said, fixing Peter's shirt and Morgan's hair at the same time, giving you a stern look. 

May was out and it was only the three of you- You, Morgan and Peter, while Tony and Pepper went out for a vacation for the weekend. 

They had trusted you to babysit Morgan, well You more than Peter. 

“We will be fine Pep! Don’t worry I won’t let them burn down the kitchen, or let Gerald eat the goji berries. Now shoo!” You snickered, pushing Pepper with your hands on her shoulder, before she gave you one more look over her shoulder.

“Oh and if you need anything, Kyle will be here soon, you can ask him anything okay?” She said, making you stop in your tracks.

“Kyle? Who’s that?” Peter asked, shuffling to adjust Morgan, who was perched on his shoulder with her head buried in his neck, her soft snores barely audible.

“He’s Morgan’s babysitter, we can trust him honey, he’s been babysitting her since she was one.” Pepper said calmly, her eyes stiff as she wearily looked at Peter, her eyes flitting to You for a moment. They had all been weary of introducing you to change when you first came back, afraid what the change around you would cause you to break further. It ultimately lead to a heart to heart with Doctor Tumnus and You and Peter, one breakdown from each of you, and lots of cuddles.

“I thought he was in college?” You smiled, lifting your brows.

“You know about him?” He asked, his voice small. You didn’t answer him, choosing to nod your head instead. 

Looking at Peter, you felt him stiffen, his shoulders tensing like the way they would whenever he was stressed or overthinking, his grip on Morgan tightening as if to protect her from whatever danger was about to come their way. Your heart sped at his look of frustration, his lip forming a thin line as he pursed them, your own confusion growing.

“Wh-why do we need him? I mean, Y/n/n and I can look after each other right?” He gulped, not meeting Pepper’s or your eyes. Morgan took that moment to wake up sniffing under her breath as she lifted her small head from his shoulder.

“Mommy is Kyle coming over?” She asked innocently, not noticing Peter as he gulped. You gripped his biceps, silently asking why he was acting the way he was. 

Peter had always been shy when it came to strangers, choosing to stay in the circle of his own people. Heck he had taken almost months to warm up to you. 

“Yes honey, he will be here soon, now, be nice for Peter and Y/N okay?” She cooed, kissing Morgan’s forehead and smiling at the little girl, grimacing as your dad honked from behind, shouting to make it fast.

“Okay mommy, have fun!” Morgan smiled sleepily, going back to her position on Peter’s neck, lifting her thumb to suck on. Holding her small hand, Peter softly brought it down to stop her from sucking on her finger. You smiled at how gentle he was with her, momentarily forgetting his ambiguous behavior at the mention of Morgan’s babysitter.

“So, wanna wreck the house?” You joked in an effort to dissipate the growing tension, watching the retreating figure of Pepper as she waved from the car. You waved back, smiling as you leant against the door jamb.

“Sure.” He said absentmindedly, holding his palm against Morgan’s head, tucking her in more firmly. 

“Are you okay Pete?” You asked, scrunching your brows when he clenched his teeth, looking at you with seething eyes. You understood at that moment, why criminals feared him as your own heart clenched. He may be a doe eyed shy boy, but he could be angry when he wanted to.

“Can everyone stop fucking asking me that!?” He bellowed, looking at Morgan to make sure she hadn’t woken up. Walking to her bedroom, he tucked her in before keeping the door to her bedroom ajar, turning towards you,

“What’s crawled and died up your ass Parker?” You clenched, folding your hands as if in defence. You were getting worried, his behavior was not him. He was a naturally cheerful and chatty person, talking the ears off of the person who happened to be in his vicinity, now he was just, closed off.

“It’s nothing okay, it’s- it’s nothing. None of your business.” He said, walking away, leaving you with your jaw dropped and hands up in the air. 

“Damn straight it’s my business! Why have you been acting weird ever since Pepper mentioned Morgan’s babysitter?” You snarled, shoulders sagging when you saw him tense up once more. 

“Just, leave it alright?” He said, cursing your observation and not meeting your eyes before he turned the kitchen lights off, strutting to his bedroom. It was late at night and Pepper had wanted to have an early start, so they had decided to lodge at the tower before leaving for the trip.

“Alright, you don’t wanna talk am I right? See if I care next time!” You shouted pettily, huffing and moving to your bedroom, shuffling inside the covers, tears of frustration brimming your eyes as you tried to wash away the look Peter had given you from your brain. 

***

Sleep didn’t come easy to Peter. 

It wasn’t anything new for him, Ben had always said that his mind was like a whirlpool of thoughts- they churned at a very high speed and impared him from sleeping. But his insomnia had been causing problems as of late. Ever since he was little and his parents died, he had been prone to nightmares. Back then, Uncle Ben and Aunt May would do everything in their power to soothe him each time he had a bad dream. 

Back then, when he was just a little boy, his uncle and aunt would snuggle up on either side of him and hold him until he fell asleep. Ben would sing with his gruff, slightly out of pitch but soothing voice, while aunt May would scratch the back of his ears, a sweet spot. It was the little gestures that reminded him of his childhood. The good parts of his childhood.

He tossed around in the bed, rolling his eyes to do a once over of his bedroom- the one that Pepper had designed when he had- when he had blipped along with You and three and a half million others. The word felt foreign on his tongue- why was such a catastrophic event named something as insignificant and fickle as “the blip”? 

Scrunching his eyes shut, he groaned, tossing and turning around his bed. Heaving a frustrated sigh, he pulled at the bedsheets, kicking the covers off his feet as if he were five. 

Peter was raised a city boy, living in the heart of New York, where nothing was really silent. Even before he gained his spidey powers, New York was never silent for him- the nightly noises of sirens and noisy neighbours was a constant in his life, so the sudden silence of living in the woods- where the only source of noise was Morgan and Tony in the morning and crickets chirping in the night was alarming.

Finally giving up, he decided to heave himself off the bed, shuffling his foot until he found the bunny slippers you had given him as a gag gift. Hovering his hands on the doorknob, he twisted it as slightly as he could, wincing when he heard the screeching noise of it twisting, as if it wanted to be as loud as it could just to piss him off.

Walking into the kitchen, he looked at the digital clock on his way, the red numbers glaring that it was well past three am into his retinas.

The room was dark, only illuminated by the small LED light in the garden. Picking up a glass, he looked over his shoulder to see if he had woken You or Morgan. Sighing when he heard your and Morgan’s minuscule snores (perks of having enhanced hearing), he opened the tap, filling the water in the glass before chugging it all up in one go. 

“Fuck.” He muttered, slamming the glass down and wished the helpless feeling would go away. Ever since he heard the words come out of Pepper’s mouth, he couldn't think straight, all his thoughts strayed to him. He who had hurt Peter, he who was out of his life. 

 But who was he kidding? It was as if the universe was laughing at him by tossing another fuckery at his face, the ghost of his past lingering in his brain enough to cover the memories in a thin sheen of dust.

"Pete?" Your voice startled him, making him nearly drop the glass in his hand had it not been for his reflexes, "is that you?" 

Your voice was heavy with sleep, fatigue evident as you appeared in his line of sight. Looking at him with squinting eyes as you flicked the light switch on.

"Yeah, just uh… thirsty. Wanted water." 

“You have a water bottle on your bedside.” 

He stayed silent, clenching his jaw as he looked at you. Biting his lips, he suppressed a chuckle as you failed to suppress a yawn, scrunching your eyes. You had a bad case of bed head, the strands of your hair all over your face. You were wearing your infamous strawberry pajamas, the shirt hanging off your shoulders. His eyes softened, you looked so young, all he wanted to do was smother you in a blanket and protect you from everything.

His gut twisted at the thought of protecting. He was supposed to be protecting Peter too.

“I can hear you thinking.” You said, your hands folded under your chest.

“So this Kyle guy, you know him?”

“Peter, you haven’t even met him, why do you hate him so much?” You sighed, rolling your eyes and wrapping your hands around his waist, laying your head against his shoulder blades.

“I- I don’t hate him! I just want to make sure-”

“Make sure what Peter?” You asked softly. 

He gasped as memories flashed in front of him- that night when He had introduced himself to little Peter when He had come to babysit him.

Eight year old Peter had just wanted a friend. And Skip Wescott was a friend to him. He was cool and played games with Peter, showed him cool new science tricks and watched cartoons.

Aunt May and Uncle Ben were not home, they were late for work. Skip had been sending him small smiles the whole time. 

“You want to see the big boy stuff now Einstein? I know you’re old enough.” Skip said, shifting uncomfortably close to Peter. 

Peter’s smile fell off as he saw Skip’s eyes flash dangerously. And at that moment, he didn’t want Skip. He didn’t want to be friends with him any more and he wanted Aunt May. 

“Nothing, go back to sleep.” He said, a lump forming in his throat, clutching the glass hard enough for cracks to appear on it. You left him be that night.

***

He didn’t notice when he fell asleep after that, the fear creeping up his spine in spite of knowing that Skip won’t be able to hurt him anymore- he was in jail, Ben had made sure of it. Yet he kept flashing back to his lowest points, when he had cried so loud, yet no one heard a thing. 

In the end, he had won the case, yet the scars had remained fresh. His win felt futile, a defeat in spite of winning.

The smell of blueberry waffles invaded his senses first, his eyelids cracking open against the force of sleep. Scrunching his eyes, he let the world slowly come into motion, the walls coming into focus one by one.

He was startled into complete wakefulness by the sudden flurry of mass that had jumped on him, panic settling before noticing that it was just Morgan, her excited rambling bringing him back.

“H-hey Momo! You seem excited huh? Good morning to you too.” He laughed, inhaling as she jumped on his stomach.

“Petey you have to brush your teeth! Come down fast because I have a surprise for you.” She giggled, snuggling into his chest and getting up just as fast, pulling him with her tiny hand.

“I see you have a handy alarm clock.” You said from the doorway, smirking when you saw him

“A very cute alarm clock.” Peter cooed, pinching Morgan’s cheeks and leaving a big sloppy kiss on her cheek, making the little girl giggle, “Wait if you’re both here then who’s in the kitchen? Did May come back? Or is it Happy?”

“No May will be in Cali for a little longer, Happy visited her there so they’re having an impromptu vacation.” You smirked, knowing how much it irked Peter whenever you told him about May and Happy’s escapades. He rolled his eyes, scrunching his nose in disgust, just as you had expected him to. 

“I didn’t need to know that, but whatever, who is it though?” 

“Kyle’s here! He’s cooking waffles cause I told him Petey likes them very much! It was supposed to be a surprise but Y/n/n ruined it.” The little girl pouted, glaring at you with her adorable brown eyes. She looked exactly like Tony when she did that.

He felt a pang in his chest, an unearthed nervousness taking residence as he felt his stomach drop. He pulled Morgan closer, feeling your eyes on him as you tried to gauge his expression.

“Yeah.” You said simply, urging Morgan to come to you as he got up from the bed. 

Walking downstairs after cleaning up, he stiffly sat on the table, watching as a short but lean Blond man cooked waffles. 

“Hey kiddo! You must be Peter, Morgan and Y/N talk about you all the time!” The guy- Kyle probably, said chirpily. Peter clenched his fists under the table, noticing the look you were giving him.

“Hi.” He said shyly, ducking his head so he won’t have to see him.

“Well they told me you’re shy too.” He said, a smile evident in his voice. 

“Y-Yeah.” 

“Aw Pete don’t be rude! At least look at his face.” You joked, hitting him slightly in the ribs. 

“Sorry I just, that smells delicious.” He smiled, finally looking up to blue eyes staring at him. He shifted nervously, sitting up straight.

“Thank you.” 

He felt uneasy under his gaze, bringing the glass of water to his lips to avoid making eye contact.

“How long is he gonna stay here?” Peter whispered to you, avoiding to look inside the kitchen where he was cooking lunch with Morgan- the girl was perched on the countertop with her legs dangling and swinging.

You and Peter had retreated to the AV room after breakfast, opting to watch a movie instead of doing homework. Well it was You who had dragged Peter, because you knew he had already done it before coming.

“He’ll make dinner and go, again, why?” You asked him, fisting some popcorn and throwing them in your mouth.

“It’s nothing.”

You let it go again.

Dinner was an awkward affair. He couldn’t help but let his gaze linger onto him, how he interacted with Morgan. She seemed genuinely happy, jumping around the house till she was tired, enjoying as he lifted her up and played airplane with her.

He really didn’t want to think about it, but his spidey sense kept buzzing a headache in the bottom of his skull. He tried to distract himself, opening his chemistry text book to read ahead of class, but the worlds kept floating around as he saw you and Morgan laugh at something Kyle had said. 

“Come on Einstein! It won’t hurt for you to keep that textbook and play with us eh?” Kyle said, winking at him as Morgan laughed, making grabby hands at him so he would come.

You want to see the big boy stuff now Einstein?

No, this wasn’t Skip. This was Kyle, Morgan’s babysitter.

He knew the comment was noncommittal, but he felt his heart race, the world zooming in and out of focus as it got harder to breathe, his book swimming in his hands. He felt floaty, the tingling in his hands intensifying as he felt someone’s hands on his back, dizzily startling him into reality.

“Hey, hey take a breath kid, it’s alright. Deep breaths.” A soothing voice said, cold sweat breaking as he dropped his textbooks. Tears ran down his face without meaning to as he pursed his lips. Instead of saying anything, he sat up and ran into his room.

He could hear you running after him, Kyle asking “Is he okay” as you reassured him. Tears were running freely now as he slammed the door, flopping on the bed and burying himself in the pillows, wishing that the bed would swallow him whole.

He didn’t know why he was reacting the way he did, Kyle was a good person, he saw the way he interacted with Morgan. He was gentle and loving, then why is it that he kept seeing him.

He heard the door creek, your footsteps echoing in his ears, drums rattling against his brain.

“Are you ready to talk now?” You asked softly, wafting your hands through his hair as he felt the bed dip with your weight.

“I had a babysitter, when I was eight. His name was Skip.” He croaked, breathing through his nose. He felt you stiffen as you seemed to connect the dots. Nudging him to move so you could insert yourself in the space.

“Did he hurt you Pete?” You whispered, rubbing his back.

“He did bad things to me, I just, I don’t want anyone to go through it again. Please. He may be in jail but- but sometimes I still feel like he’s here and I hate how I feel! I want him gone. I just want him gone and I want the memories to be erased.”

You remained silent, rubbing his back through his sweatshirt, unbidding tears appearing in your eyes. Someone had hurt Peter. You felt anger boiling inside you, swirling in a dangerous tornado at the thought of someone hurting the best person in your life, 

You promised yourself that day that You would protect him at all costs. You couldn't do it in the past, but you would in the future.

“I’m glad you told me about this Pete.” You said, clenching your teeth as he met your eyes.

[razieltwelve]

Drink (Final Rose AU)

Note: This is set in the Tifa/Lightning/Fang/Summer AU. As such, Ruby and Averia are sisters in this AU.

X     X     X

Averia took one look at Ruby and rounded on the rest of Team RWBY. “At what point did you think it would be a good idea to include my fifteen-year-old sister in your underage drinking?” There was a cold, emotionless edge to the words that made them far more terrifying than if they’d been spoken with rage. 

“Uh…” Yang knew what Averia’s tone of voice meant. Saviour’s emotional dampener had engaged. The pink-haired girl wasn’t mad. She was furious. And a furious Averia generally meant that whatever had pissed her off was about to become very dead. “Well…”

Still staggering about drunkenly on the ceiling, Ruby laughed. “Don’t be like that, big sis. It was fun! We had tequila, whiskey, and vodka, and all this other stuff too.” She cackled and leered blearily at Yang. “We even played cards.” She lurched sharply to one side and then fell off the ceiling, her control over her Semblance slipping. Without taking her eyes off Yang and the others, Averia reached out and caught her. “Thanks, sis.” Ruby reached up and grabbed at Averia’s cheeks. “You should smile more. You have a really nice smile.” The total lack of a smile on Averia’s face might have been funny to Ruby, but it was terrifying to everyone else. “I was kind of hoping we’d play strip poker too but…”

“Ruby,” Yang muttered. “Are you trying to get us killed?”

“No, you’re doing a pretty good job of that yourselves.” Averia did her best to ignore Ruby as her little sister tried to comb her hair up into the signature spikes that Diana always sported. “Since we’ve known each other since we were children, I’ll give you a chance to explain yourself before i murder you.”

“Uh…” Yang was usually good with words. However, staring into Averia’s pitiless green eyes, words were suddenly very difficult. “Guys,” she whispered. “Help me out.” She chanced a quick look back to find that Weiss and Blake were both doing their best to use her as a human shield. “Seriously?” She looked back at Averia. “Fine. Here’s what happened.”

X     X     X

“How did you get that?” Weiss asked.

Blake smirked and held up the bottle. “This? Well, you know how I graduated as a member of the National Guard before attending Beacon? Some of my former colleagues thought they’d send me this after hearing about our first successful mission as a team.”

“Our first mission?” Weiss raised one eyebrow. They’d been at Beacon for half a year. “Our first mission was months ago.”

“Our first real mission. Apparently, the one we just completed was tough enough for them to take it seriously.” Blake smiled wistfully, and Weiss once again found herself wondering about the Faunus’s past. Some initial awkwardness aside, Blake had more than proven herself as a comrade, and anyone who could graduate into Menagerie’s National Guard at the age of seventeen or earlier was extremely formidable. “I do hope they realise I’m not old enough to drink yet.”

Weiss shook her head. “Blake, that is a bottle of the finest Atlas whiskey. Being old enough to drink doesn’t matter. We’re having some.” 

“Really? You don’t normally advocate breaking the rules.”

“Blake, I may or may not have indulged in some prior to arriving at Beacon while celebrating my acceptance with my sister and some of my other friends.”

“Ah.” Blake grinned. “If we’re going to be having some, we might as well get Yang involved too. She’ll be mad if we drink it without her.”

“Uh… guys?” Ruby peeked down at them from her position atop the bunk bed. “Could I… maybe… have some too?”

“Hmm…” Blake made a face. “Ruby, you’re fifteen. You probably shouldn’t be drinking.”

“Did someone mention drinking?” Yang ambled back in from the bathroom. She’d just finished having a shower, and Ruby wasn’t the only one who stared at the way the towel clung to her body. “Because after that mission we need to celebrate, and I doubt we’ll be able to sneak out. It’s Professor Dia’s turn to patrol for curfew, and nobody gets past her.”

“Some of my buddies from the National Guard sent some whiskey. Want some?”

“Is that…” Yang’s stared at the bottle. “It is! Damn straight I want some! That stuff is pricey.”

“Guys!” Ruby growled. “Can I please have some too. I’m part of this team, and if you’re going to be drinking, then I should too.”

“Ruby…” Yang took a deep breath. “As a mature young woman of seventeen, I’m going to have to say that fifteen is too young to be drinking. Besides, do you have any idea what your big sis would do to us if you got drunk?”

“I’m not a kid,” Ruby countered. “Come on! Let me have some!”

“Fine.” Blake said at last. “But only a sip.”

Yang smirked. “And since we’re celebrating, we might as well do it properly.” She pressed her foot down on a section of the floor and tapped a pattern on it. The floor opened up to allow a small fridge to rise up. “You’re not the only one with booze.”

Weiss gaped. “Yang, did you seriously have Diana install a fridge under our floor, so you could hide booze?”

“And if I did?” Yang put her hands on her hips. “That a problem?”

“The problem,” Weiss countered. “Is that you didn’t tell the rest of us.” The heiress smirked. “What have you got?”

“Oh, princess, I’ve got a bit of everything.”

“Technically,” Ruby pointed out. “Blake is the princess.” She hopped out of the bunk bed and peered into the fridge. “Wow… that is a lot of booze.” She frowned. “Did you tell Diana you’d be putting booze in it?”

“Of course. She even helped me smuggle the booze onto campus.” Yang rubbed her chin. “Now, let’s get started ladies.”

In short order, they were gathered in a circle, sitting down on the floor. 

“To the success of our first real mission!” Yang said. “And by real, I mean a mission in which we each almost died at least twice.”

X     X     X

Aveeria’s eye twitched. “I’m going to assume it got out of hand from there.”

“Oh yeah.” Yang twitched. “It turns out that when Ruby wants to move super fast and grab extra booze, there’s really no easy way of stopping her without resorting to actual combat.”

Averia’s eyes narrowed, and she lifted Ruby up to eye level. The younger girl was again trying to adjust her lips into a smile. “Ruby, did you get mad because they weren’t giving you more than a sip and then just steal a whole lot of booze to prove you really can handle alcohol only to prove that you really can’t?”

“That…” Weiss murmured. “Is an eerily accurate summary of what happened.”

Averia frowned faintly. “Ruby is my sister. Developing an accurate model of her behaviour with Saviour was one of the first things I did with my Semblance. For all intents and purposes, I can predict what Ruby will do in any situation.”

“Uh… maybe,” Ruby said at last. “But they were having so much fun drinking, and I wanted to have fun too.” She huffed pettily. “You wouldn’t be mad if Diana was drinking.”

“I would still be mad, and it’s not like Diana can get drunk.”

“That’s not fair.”

“No, it’s not, but that’s not the point.” Averia turned back to Yang as Ruby squirmed out of her grasp and climbed onto her back. “Since you did try to stop her, and I personally know how difficult she can be to stop when she wants something, you get to live. However, there are not going to be any repeats of this.” The words would have sounded more ominous if it wasn’t for Ruby clinging onto her back like an oversized, silver-eyed monkey. “Ruby, you are not going to steal booze again.”

“Or what?” Ruby asked petulantly. She rested her head on Averia’s shoulder and yawned. “I’m your sister. You can’t mangle me.”

“No, I can’t mangle you. However, I can and will share embarrassing baby pictures with your teammates if I hear about you turning what should be a sip of whiskey into a drinking binge.”

“Oh.” The thought of that sent a shudder through Ruby. Or not. “I… I think I’m going to be sick -”

“That is what happens when you drink too much.” Averia looked at Yang and the others. “What?”

“Um… Ruby just threw up, but there isn’t any…”

“I use Saviour to shunt it into an alternate dimension before it could hit me.” Averia shrugged. “That’s usually how I deal with sufficiently powerful energy-based attacks, but it works equally well on vomit.”

“Right.” Weiss shook her head at the thought of using such a powerful Semblance for something so… bizarre. “Well, since you’ve decided to let us all live, I supposed we should give Ruby some fluids and let her sleep it off.”

On Averia’s back, Ruby slumped and began to snore. However, her grip only tightened.

“I was afraid this would happen.” Averia sighed. “It’ll be almost impossible to pry her off.”

“So… what?” Blake asked. “You’re just going to walk around with Ruby clinging onto your back?”

“Yes.” Averia shrugged. “Based on past experience, her grip should loosen in half an hour or so, and I’ll bring her back here when that happens. In the meantime, I was going to head back to my team’s dorm room to complete an assignment.”

“With Ruby clinging onto your back?” Yang asked.

“Yes.”

“Right. Have fun with that.”

X     X     X

Author’s Notes

Ah, Ruby, she really doesn’t like people treating her like a kid (unless it mean free cookies). Yang tried to do the semi-right thing and failed, and Averia is just being Averia. Ruby is going to be some embarrassed when she wakes up tomorrow.

If you’re interested in my thoughts on writing and other topics, you can find those here.

You can find my original fiction on Amazon here.

[somuchbetterthanthat]

Anyway. I finally wrote a hug, though, really, this is merely season 3 slight-awkwardness-but-we’re-trying-to-bond mood. Also, he wasn’t hurt physically, but he was still hurt. It was a month. A month. i’m emotional. 

Martin finds Jon in the Archive’s kitchen, broken glass all over his feet; he’s standing very still, staring at his hands like they’re a very complicated mystery he’s trying to solve, brows furrow and mouth pinched in a concentrated way. 

“Jon?” he asks, a bit unsettled. “Are you alright?”

“What?” Jon startles, hard, and then blinks up at him. His shoulders relax at his sight, and some tiny part of Martin is pleased, though he’s mostly worried about why Jon was so tense to start with. 

“Are you alright?” he repeats. “Do you need - help? with the glass?”

“I, ah - right. Yes I - I mean, I’m fine,” Jon mutters, looking down at the floor. His cheeks colour slightly. “I’m fine, Martin, sorry -”

He is, Martin decides, definitely not fine. He doesn’t know what’s going on, but that doesn’t mean he can’t do something.

“Sit down,” he tells Jon, putting on his firm voice, the one he knows has worked before, few months back, when Jon was being particularly - difficult. Jon doesn’t even put a show of resistance today, which is... well, it’s worrying; he sways on his feet for a few seconds, and then goes to sit quietly, awkwardly. Martin watches him, worried. 

“Are you hurt?” he asks. “You don’t - Please tell me, if you’re hurt.”

“I’m fine,” Jon repeats, and then, his lips twist in a odd little smile: “Never looked better, probably.”

You always look good, Martin absolutely does not say, because it’s a creepy thing to say to your boss-maybe-friend-maybe-not-who-knows-with-jon. He’s pretty sure it’s one of those jokes that apparently Jon makes, but since he’s not sure, he goes the safe road and says: 

“I’m going to clean that up, and then I’ll make you a cup of tea, alright?”

“Alright,” says Jon, still much too compliant. He does look somewhat embarassed, though, when Martin gets the small broom out. “I - I should help you. I’m the one who - I should do that.”

“It’s fine,” Martin reassures him. “It’s already done, really, I don’t mind. Besides, you really look -” he hesitates, scratching idly the back of his ear, and then asks: “Is this, uh - you know, a, a world-saving problem? Or a... um. An archivist one?”

Did you just read a statement, is the implicit question, because now that he’s read a few, he knows how exhausted they make you feel afterwards, and he can’t believe Jon - well, Jon does so many. All the time. 

“No,” says Jon. “No, I don’t think it’s an Archivist problem. Certainly nothing that concerns the world either I -” he’s staring down at his hands again. “I’m just tired,” he says at last. He’s lying. Martin tries not to be hurt about it.

“Right,” he says. He puts the shards of glasses in the bin, puts away the broom, and goes to the kettle. “Right, well; i’ll fix you that cup of tea, and then you can go home, alright? How’s - How’s the new flat?”

“It’s fine,” Jon says. “It’s, uh. It’s quiet.” he adds, a bit awkwardly. “I - Georgie likes... well, obviously, she - she listens to all sort of podcasts, you see?”

“Yes,” Martin says. “Of course.” 

His tone is too bright; he tries not to think of Georgie Barker, if he can; he guiltily went on her facebook page, and on the What the Ghost fan page, and he’s listened to all the episodes and, god damnit, it’s a good podcast, and she sounds fun, and Jon lived with her for months, and Martin’s not jealous, he’s not but she could stand to be just a little bit less cool, maybe, he thinks pettily while grabbing Jon’s favourite tea. He hopes she’s bad at this. She’s too cool to be good at making tea.

“I miss the Admiral,” Jon says behind him, a bit wistful. 

“You could get a pet?” Martin suggests. 

When he turns to look back at him, cup of tea in hand, Jon still looks a bit sick, his shoulders hunched, his fingers curling and uncurling on his lap. Martin idly thinks of running a hand through his hair, perhaps kissing him, just a bit, and then sending him home (with him, if Jon’s lonely; they could go home together, nothing - nothing ontward just - just both of them, cuddling on the couch, perhaps -). He flushes a bit, clears his throat, and almost misses Jon’s snort:

“I can’t take responsability for an animal; i don’t even know if i’ll be alive for much longer.”

“Don’t say that,” Martin says sharply. 

Jon looks disconcerted, blinking up at him. Then he frowns slightly: “Sorry.”

“We’re going to make it,” Martin affirms, putting the cup of tea right next to Jon, on the table, before sitting as well. “We’re going to save the world, and then, everything will be - well, probably still not that good, but better.” 

That, incredibly, manages to make Jon smile; one of his true smiles, too; small but fond and warm. Martin’s stomach twists pleasantly. It’s enough to make him bold, and he lets himself put a hand on Jon’s shoulder, squeezing it gently.

Which, of course, is a mistake, because Jon makes a sharp, abrupt noise, and recoils instinctively. Martin flushes bright with embarassement and moves away, an apology already on his lips, but then, just as quickly, Jon grabs his hand. 

“Wha -” 

“I -” Jon is blushing too now, but there’s something fragile and uncertain in his eyes. “I don’t - I’m sorry,” he says. “I just -” he squeezes Martin’s fingers with upmost carefulness and gentleness, and Martin’s heart is beating wildly in his ears, it’s so loud Jon has to be hearing it - “You feel real,” Jon admits, very, very quietly, without looking at him.

Martin opens his mouth; closes it; “....What?”

“Ever since I spent that month in the museum,” Jon tells him, looking like every word is excessively painful to say. “There are some days where my - my body doesn’t... feel. Real. It -” he lets out a small, painful laugh. “It feels like I’m inside the body of a stranger.”

“Oh,” Martin says; it hits him, almost violently. The way Jon was staring at his hands, earlier - “Oh, Jon -”

“i didn’t mean to react so poorly,” Jon continues. “Only you’re... Well, you’re the first person I - Well, it’s only, since I don’t live with Georgie anymore I haven’t really -”

“Jon,” Martin cuts him off - Jon looks impossibly relieved by the intervention - “Can I hug you?”

“I don’t - I mean, you obviously don’t have - I’ll be fine, I just meant to explain -”

“Jon,” he repeats. Firmer tone. That works like magic. Jon’s shoulders fall a bit, and he nods, quickly. 

Martin breathes out slowly, and then, he leans forwards, and pulls his arms around Jon, holding him tightly. Jon tenses first, but Martin tightens his grip, just a bit, because he may not know when Jon makes a joke, or he may not be Georgie Barker, but that - that he knows; there are times when Jonathan Sims looks like he’s pushing you away when he is, in fact, yearning for you to stay. 

And Jon nodded; Jon needs this; it takes a few very awkward seconds, but then Jon sighs against his shoulder, and his own arms move shakily around Martin. They stay like that for a long time in complete silence; Jon doesn’t protest, when Martin starts to gently rub his back. In fact, he leans deeper against him, and Martin is so stupidely in love with him it hurts. 

“Thank you,” Jon murmurs, eventually, still without moving;

“You don’t need to thank me, Jon,” he says. “We’re - we’re friends. It’s what friends do.”

He feels Jon smile against his skin and helplessly smiles to the wall in return, wishing foolishly for the moment to never end.