#and his shirt starts screaming and peeling off of him. y'know

[vulpinesaint]

OH MY GOD HAVE THE RIDICULOUS MACHINE GUNS BEEN THE SYMBIOTE THIS WHOLE TIME?? HAS HE BEEN USING ACTUAL VENOM MACHINE GUNS????? HAVE THOSE BEEN SYMBIOTE BULLETS THIS WHOLE ENTIRE TIME??????

[kaiparker-avengerssmut]

Their Doll 12

Home again

B.Barnes x Stark!Reader, S.Rogers x Stark!Reader

series synopsis:  y/n Stark, all records of her non existent, and yet Hydra still find her. When she is kidnapped by a certain super-soldier and no one believes her, she finds herself searching for unexpected familiarity in her not-so-distant past.

Series Warnings: smut, violence, torture, swearing

Chapter Summary: y/n returns home

Warnings: steve almost cries, swearing maybe, kissing, mentions of violence and scars

A/n: The timeline in this has been altered, as there I things I wanted to include but I also wanted this fic to follow the storyline/timeline of Winter Soldier and Civil war.So for purposes of this fanfic, Peter Parker was discovered by Tony at a much younger age - when he was bitten - and has been an intern with him since, almost like a protégée.(For the purposes of this story Peter was bitten much younger too - more like when he was 9 or ten rather than 14/15)

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Steve was distraught. He sat completely still, head buried in his hands as his mind whirred. I string hand on his shoulder caused the man to look up, blue eyes meeting Tony's brown ones which were filled with sorrow and pity.

"I know you love her, but it's over Steve. They have her there's-" a crack in his voice made the billionaire pause, "there's nothing we can do this time."

"But I left her, Tony!" Steve shouted, standing up abruptly. "I could've saved her, and I didn't!" Steve's face was red, Tony's face taken aback. "She's your daughter and I didn't even save her..."

"Hey, stop." Tony snapped, pulling Steve's attention to him instantly. "I know she's my daughter but I also know that you love her enough that you wouldn't give up on her if you did t have too!" Tony wanted to shout, to scream at his friend.

"He's right, Steve. Well all know you love her." Nat smirked, arms crossed over her chest as she now leant in the doorway.

"How long have you been standing there?" Steve asked and Nat simply quirked a brow. Steve nodded and realised she'd most probably been there the entire time. "And how do you know...?"

"That your in love with y/n?" Nat clarified. Steve nodded. "It's obvious, Capsicle. You literally give her heart eyes whenever she's not looking and you always fidget when you're around her. But my favourite part," Nat pushed off the door frame, walking into the room, "is that you act like you hate her. I new you didn't have great experience with women, but I didn't know it was that bad." She remarked and Steve made to protest but was cut off.

"She's right, y'know. There's no way in hell a girl's gonna ask you out if you critique every last thing about her and give her the evil eyes every time she looks at you." Tony added, making Steve shut his mouth and stare at the ground again.

"B-but it's been weeks." Steve stuttered. "What's if she's... what if they killed her, Tony? I think that's on my. Her blood would be on my hands." He rambled, and Tony was about to reply when Bruce appeared at the door.

"You guys might want to come downstairs." He said quietly, and the three avengers already in the room looked at each other, confused. Steve quickly swiped the threatening tears from his eyes, him and Tony making their way down the stairs as fast as they could.

...

I burst through the doors, immediately met with the sight of Tony pointing to some papers the person next to him was holding and discussing something with them. My face broke out into the biggest smile, the sight of my dad after the hell I'd been through like a shelter from the rain.

I waved frantically, already breaking into a run towards him, his head snapping up at the wild movement and his face morphing into one of shock and relief, his arms held open.

"Lil?" His voice was full of concern as my arms wrapped around his neck when we collided, my legs wrapping around his waist and his hands finding their place on my back. "Oh my god, Lil, you scared us so much, scared me." He whispered into my hair, pulling back enough to cup my face in his hands. "It's you." I smiled.

I nodded my head furiously, burying my wet face into his shoulder, jumping down from the embrace.

"Lily?" The unsure voice from the edge of the room caught my attention, a grin spreading on his lips seeing me. I held back tears looking at him, my smile still wide. He walked towards me, enveloping me in a hug so tight it could crush a normal person. "I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry." He kept saying, his hand tangled in my hair.

I shook my head, sorrow filling my eyes as in stared at the man that had engulfed me with his body. He pulled back, looking sternly into my eyes.

"I know you think I hate you. But, I wouldn't wish what happened to you on anyone, Lily. Not even my worst enemy." Steve whispered, his eyes clouded with pity.

"Well that's new." Tony remarked seeing us hug, confusion lacing his tone. "Hey, kid, what's with the mute?" He pondered as I gave no verbal reply, Steve now looking deeply concerned for me too.

I sighed through my nose, pulling back the collar of the jacket to reveal the long, vermillion scar across my neck.

"You should go see the others, they'll be happy to know you're back." Tony said with a pitiful smile.

...

A million warm embraces later, tears shared and hearty laughs exchanged, I was just about ready to fall asleep and never wake up. I was about to excuse myself when someone tapped my shoulder. I turned to see Steve, a stoic expression on his face.

"Can we talk?" He asked, nodding his head towards the door. I nodded, following him out into the hallway. I laid my shoulder against the wall, observing Steve's constant pacing.

So what's up?

I quickly jotted down, handing the small electronic device Tony had retrieved for me to Steve, raising a brow. He stopped, looking me in the eye. He swallowed thickly, his Adam's apple bobbing.

"I can't tell you how sorry I am, I let him do that to you. It's my fault. I don't even know how to live with myself, I should've come looking for you, or-" I cut him off with a tap on the shoulder as I handed him the pad.

Cap, it's fine. I'm fine.

I stressed, writing in italics. The man read it with furrowed brows. cleared my throat before continuing.

I just don't know how long I can keep pretending to be happy, I just want to die.

I finally confessed, vision blurred and screen obscured with tears. A tear rolled down my cheek.

I don't know how to go on, every tome I close my eyes all I see him, what he did

My gaze averted from his as he read.

"Hey, hey. You're strong, you can do this. Let's go get you cleaned up." Steve suggested, looking at my through his lashes and placing a careful hand on my shoulder, which I flinched away from. I gulped.

Steve, there's a reason he let me go

I wrote down, finally meeting his gaze. His eyes were full of questions he didn't dare ask.

He let me go to send a message. He said that if we interfere with him again what happened to me will be child's play compared to what will happen.

His face dropped.

If a few days of torture is child's play, what does he have planned?

I asked, sobbing now.

"Lily, you were gone for three weeks." Steve added quietly, making me look up from where I'd been starting at the floor to meet his eyes. My eyes widened. Steve grimaced, nodding solemnly.

"Go have a shower, I'll grab you some fresh clothes and a towel. We'll talk more when you're feeling warmer and cleaner." He suggested again, and was met with a nod from me this time.

We reached my room, Steve holding the door opening for me and me giving a tiny smile that said 'thanks' as I walked in. I headed straight for the bathroom, taking my time in peeling the ripped tank top from my body and throwing the muddied shorts on the floor with them. Just then, the door opened, Steve walking in with a towel and some cloths folded on top. His eyes widened and he instantly apologised.

"Sorry, lily, I thought you'd be in the shower by now." But before he could walk out his eyes finally locked on me. His eyes raked over me, his eyes surveying my wrists, which were rubbed red-raw from chains and ropes; my neck, which was red and violently bruised; my bruised upper arms; my waist that was covered with finger-shaped bruises; my thighs, that were also bruised and finally my back that starred at him in the mirror. It was a mess of diagonal cuts, which were not longer bleeding but were still a blood red colour. I looked down at my feet nervously, feeling weird under his gaze.

"He did this to you?" Steve asked, tears in his eyes. I nodded, slowly looking back up at him. Before he could say anything else I cupped his face in my hands, smashing my lips to his in a kiss that conveyed everything I could never say out loud. After a moment, his hands reached for my face, returning the kiss. Our lips welded together, his tongue poking at my lower lip, begging for entrance that I granted. His tongue rolled over mine in languid stroked, soothing. I pulled back first, turning and pulling the shower curtain open. I climbed in, turning on the water and getting lost in the warmth and steam that swallowed me.

...

I walked out the bathroom, clad in one of Steve's T-shirt he grabbed for me, some shorts and fresh underwear. He must've noticed that I liked stealing Tony's shirts and given me one of his instead. Rubbing my hair dry with a towel, I dumped it on a near-by chair when my hair was only damp. Steve instantly stood from where he was sat on the edge of my bed when he saw me, looking at me with an unreadable expression.

I began writing, but before I could finish his lips were on mine and the little device was dropped to the floor. It was less desperate that the last time, more passionate and slow. It expressed everything we needed to say, and that was enough. My arms hooked around his neck, my fingers playing with the hairs at the base of his neck, whilst one of his tangled in my hair, the other resting on my cheek.

"You talk too much." He mumbled against my lips and we both let out a breath meant to be a laugh. "Too soon?" He asked before leaning in for another, our lips locking together. He pulled back and looked in my eyes, his hand running through my dampened hair.

He cleared his throat, stepping back from me, his gaze flitting from the door before landing back on me.

"I should go." He spoke, heading for the door. As he placed his hand on the door knob he froze at when I tapped on his broad back.

Don't.

The little device said. He had a hopeful look in his eyes.

Go. Don't go. Please.

I wrote , looking at him with pleading eyes. He nodded, walking back over to me.

I don't think I can be alone tonight.

I stated before climbing into my bed and patting the spot next to me. Steve hesitantly climes in beside me, laying behind me and draping his arm over my waist, pulling me into his firm chest. His body heat radiated over me and sleep soon took over as I sunk into him, his hand playing with my hair.

...

"Lil? Lily? Lily!" I shot up, panting hard and sweat covering my forehead. I slowly look to the side where Tony sat, a concerned look filling his eyes. My gaze looked at the door, where Steve stood, looking over me with what looked like fear, before going back to Tony. "Hey, kiddo, what happed?" He asked, stoking my hair. I swallowed thickly, breathing calmed down.

"You were restless, moving about in your sleep." Steve clarifies from the door, not wearing what he was before. He must've left after I fell asleep. I motioned for Tony to pass me the device which sat on the bedside table and he handed to to me.

I was back there. He was

I couldn't finish writing, the device falling from my shaking hand onto the duvet as I bit back tears, sinking into the embrace Tony held me in.

[hawksugarbaby]

Fatgum x reader- Atlas

Fluff + Greek mythology AU.

You were nothing more than a simple human, roaming the built up world to find something new and interesting, something no one could see but you, a secret for you and the universe to hold together. You needed to find something special is what you thought, taking a break at the atlas mountains in the scorching Morroccon sun. sweat bead down your forehead and your skin was hot to the touch but the adventure and experience, the trials to find something undiscovered was worth the peeling skin on your shoulders being soothed by aloe over and over.

Your persistence to find the unknown secret may have started genuinely, you wanted to find what the universe wanted you too, but eventually it gave you a reason to travel the world. You've travelled to 28 countries in 4 years, beginning at 18 and now you're 22, you skipped uni and college, you made money from ad revenue on youtube since your vlogs became popular, and you were incredible when it came to saving money.

Of course, you were still searching, but now you felt like you had even bigger reasons. Exploring the world, drinking in fountains of culture and knowledge, that was perfection enough. But the secret was missing.

You stood up rolling your neck and started your walk up rocky paths of mud and stone to the sandy houses forming a village and your senses lead you to a vendor, golden couscous with colourful, roasted vegetables mixed through smelled amazing and glasses of fresh mint tea lined up for you to drink while eating couscous at the vendors stall. You requested a glass of the tea, sat down, and drank it too quickly, burning your tongue from the hot water. You sucked in sharply and hummed in pain. "Thank you!" you said paying for the drink and continuing to the mountains past the beige buildings with terracotta tile roofs.

You felt like if you walked between the fingers of the mountain grabbing the earth with their hands you would find something unknown. You walked around the spurs peering into the joining point of each interlocked section but none tugged you in, pulled you towards them with mystery.

Apart from one. The sun was on the opposite side so technically there should have been no light, but it seemed perfectly visible to you? Was it a trick of the light? Possibly an illusion? Either way your heart longed to investigate and so you did. You trudged forward kicking a stone out your way and looked at the joining line. "You have to be something right?" you muttered and put your hand between the drack. You drew a triangle, mimicking the shape the spurs made and as quickly as you could blink, the mountain began to shake, not violently, but it trembled like being coerced into sharing it's deepest secrets.

"Okay... mountains don't usually do that" you say with wide eye's as the seam rips apart and balls of moss and rock tumble into a pile on the floor. Was it a doorway for you? Who knew, you didn;t care, whatever it was you were finding out one way or another.

You stepped into the cavern, dripping stalagmites made your head turn in the direction of every 'plop' into the puddle and your hands brushed against the side of the wall for stability and a sense of surrounding. "These feel like bricks?" you whisper in a questioning tone as your eye's begin to adjust to the dark and you found that you were going aimlessly through a long, triangular corridor. The bricks were a muted clay colour with green moss and algae blanketing them, the grout in the walls was black and viridian unidentifiable as something anyone had ever known of.

The terracotta sparsely began to cut into black white and grey granite eventually forming a whole wall as if the bricks had never been there to begin with. The marble was just as unkempt and ruined as the bricks but the walls got wider, further and further away from each other until they opened into a wide, white cavern, glowing and inhumanely clean. In the middle was a statue of a hulking man, holding the sky. He wore no shirt and had a pair of orange shorts on and black sandals, sandals that looked real and hyper-realistic looking shorts that flowed with the draft and skin you could see the detail of every pore in. hold on... fabric made of marble should not flow in the wind and should not be such an even orange no matter how much paint.

You slowly looked up, the chest rising and falling with a huffing breath it had to take, the hands trembled and the lips quivered. The hairs on his leg and arm stuck up with the chill of the wind and his elbows dropped slightly making the sky move. Finally, you dared look at the eye's of the giant, who was looking back at you confused as a bee trying to escape through a shut window. Mustard yellow eye's with sunken bag's looked right back at you and you backed up letting out a girlish scream.

"Hey hey wait!!" he shouted, wishing he could reach out and shake your hand or reach after you to emphasise that he wanted you to stay. "Please! Please don't go. I don't have anyone to talk to, I promise I won't hurt you!" he begged, glancing at your figure backing up and starfishing against a wall like it would absorb you and push you out the other side. "Y-you you're talking! And moving! But you, you're a statue?" you shook your hands in front of you and he laughed lightly. "I'm not a statue, I'm a titan. I'm just a big God to be honest, big God doing his job" he nodded his head at his rhyming ability and you slid down the wall grazing your burnt back. "Don't do that you'll hurt yourself" he said.

You took a deep breath to calm yourself then blew out, another deep breath and blew out, another deep breath then blew out. "Okay. so... what you're like atlas or something? He was... he was a titan right and he just held up the universe forever and that looks like something important like the universe" you pointed at the sphere on his back constantly shifting and changing colours and he made a whiney voice at the back of his throat. "Sorta? I'm Taishiro, nice to meet you" he greeted with a nod and you nodded back glancing again at the exit.

Could you trust him?

One look from him and it wasn't hard to tell he was overjoyed to finally talk to someone so you stood in front of him with your hands on your hips so he could see you while he was looking down. "Should I know who taishiro is, not to sound rude but everyone's heard of atlas, who is taishiro?" you asked biting a nail and the titan nodded understandably, fair enough, you would ask valid questions.

"so like, zeus wanted to do something cool and like "oh look i'm redeemable" se he basically said hey all the titans weren't so bad and just did what dad told them to so they all got freed or whatever but someone still has to hold the sky so they gave me the job" he said in one breath which was impressive to you but he wasn't finished. "which is okay, I don't mind it here but it's boring and lonely and my arms have cramp and God I miss food. And like they just made me a titan, they just chose me off the street after work and were like yo we need a new titan and I thought, hey y'know what i'm a hero, i'd be doing good for the world but i'm bored and hungry" he finished his ramble and you giggled.

You opened a packet of pistachios and a muffin and looked at him. "Can I climb you?" you asked gripping the pistachios in your teeth and pulling the muffin in a travel cup that clipped to your belt. "Sure! Not like you're very heavy to me" he joked and you laughed quietly grabbing the threads of his sandals and pulling yourself up like a climbing wall. "Oh you're so small. It tickles" he laughed. Resisting the urge to twitch and jerk you off his leg. You climbed quickly like the ropes in gym class then when you got to the shorts you pulled yourself up until you rested on his knee, flat as a table.

"Uhh, I think this should be good" you nod and balance cautiously to sit down pulling out the muffin and tapping his knee. "Hey open your mouth" you ask and he does so without question. You throw the muffin like a shot put and he grins, savouring the sweet, chocolatey taste "sorry their human sized" you sigh and shuck the pistachios for yourself, chewing on the green nuts with hundreds of questions buzzing in your head.

"So you were a hero?" you question flicking the pistachio shell into the bowl below you where taishiro's feet stood rooted to the ground. "Mhm. BMI hero: fat gum. I was like 46th, the world thinks I retired, that's what I told them but to me i'm still being a hero" he explained and you hummed agreeingly. "It's pretty hero like to give up everything to hold the weight of the world" you smile up at him and he blushes lightly. "Aw, you sound like one of my old interns. I miss it sometimes though, and I miss talking to people so much, it gets lonely here" a breeze flew past you and he shivered, but didn't lose an ounce of balance on the sphere, it was firmly rooted above him, it could have been suspended for all you knew. "Yeah, I bet, especially since being a hero is a pretty team focused job right?"

He smiled sadly and looked up at the tiny exit. He couldn't fit through doors like that anymore, he was the height of the eiffel tower and with one step he'd crack open the crust of the earth. "Yeah. you sound like you know what your talking about" you smiled tucking your hair behind your ear and shrugged "I do. I went to shiketsu to be a hero but when I left I was like... nah, that ain't my purpose. I wanted to like, find a secret the universe had that no one else knew about so i've been travelling for 4 years and I guess you were the secret right?" you thearised and he agreed happily. "It's cool knowing the universe wanted you to find me!" "heck yeah it is!"

You stayed with taishiro for a few days before having to leave and you had never felt so sad before. It was finally over, you didn't have a reason to travel anymore, you found the secret and had solidified a friendship with him but now you were leaving? Despite the snacks and drinks and stories shared about what you'd seen. You felt guilty leaving him again but he looked overjoyed. "I'll visit soon okay!" you shouted and he nodded "I'll see ya around. Say hey to little red riot for me, and suneater!" he instructed and you saluted exiting the cavern back into the dank corridor.

You kept your eyes trained on the ground until you left the mountain. A shimmering rainbow was directly in front of you and you swiped your hand through it like a cloud of smoke you tried re-directing.

The rainbow fizzled and formed into a human with long white hair and pasty skin, a long sundress with rainbow accents and black eye's. "Hi, (y/n) (y/ln) am I right? Oh I know i'm right don't worry, i'm iris Goddess of the rainbow and a messenger for the Gods of sorts. See I'm here to offer you a fast pass from wherever you are to right here in Morocco, next to our dear friend Tai whenever you please" she said with a smile, arm around your shoulder and walking away from the entrance like a car salesman.

You crossed your arms and raised an eyebrow interested but cautious. "What will it cost me?" you ask bluntly and she laughed, slapping your back lightly. "Your hilarious kid. No it costs you nothing more than a prayer or 2 to me and my dear friend Hermes, see he's the God of travel, he's my partner in this see, and what we'll do is just zip you over here faster than you can think!" she exclaimed. You nodded and thought. A free service from 2 Gods? Were they typically that kind? No not really so...

"Oh I see. Zeus wants a fuck doesn't he" you jeered and the sky's went pale grey, like the colour your skin would go if you;d seen a ghost. Iris choked and looked up. "Um... the God of the sky does take an interest in you, yes." you rolled your eyes and stuck your tongue out at the sky. "Keep it in your pants buddy! I want the fast pass for free or I tell yo wife!!" you bargained, though it was hardly a haggle as the king God, terrified of his wifes wrath, told irish to just give you it for free.

"Thank you! I'll be sure to think of you when I see rainbows from now on, maybe we can have a chat! Oh oh or come see me and Tai some time, he says he gets lonely, you should visit him!" you grinned with a wave and said your address, being transported immediately like cargo from morocco to your home.

You crashed into your bed and huffed grabbing your limbs to make sure you were completely there. "DOES THIS WORK WITH OTHER COUNTRIES!" you shouted to no one in particular, your voice cracking while you spoke and then collapsed into bed, falling into a deep slumber.

A/n: Not gonna lie I really dont like thos chapter. It feels rushed and boring, I think I'll revisit it at somepoint. If you have any feedback feel free to comment!

[emilia3546]

You’re Adorable - Nessian NSFW

Nesta finds Cassian actually doing paperwork for once, and starts a light teasing match that quickly heats up.

*****

Nesta snorted at the sight of Cassian sat at a desk,

"I never thought I'd see the day that you did paperwork." she chuckled as she sauntered over to him, leaning on the desk next to him to peer over his shoulder,

"Believe it or not, sweetheart, my job isn't just hitting people."

"Really? But that's all you're good at," she teased, and yelped when he prodded her in the side,

"You've changed your tune then,"

"What?"

"You seemed to think I was rather good at a lot of things last night," Nesta flushed, and quickly glanced around the room,

"Nes, who is going to be in our private study? Chill out."

"Shut up," she snarled half-hardheartedly, and snuck another glance at the papers, "I thought it was usually Rhys who dealt with Darkbringer reports?"

"It is. But with Feyre on bed rest now, with only a month to go, he's too worried to focus properly, it's a struggle getting him to do the bare minimum." Nesta chuckled,

"Sounds like him," Cassian raised an eyebrow, "Overbearing, and ridiculously overprotective. She'll be fine, Madja's the best healer in Velaris, and she says that it should be a straightforward birth, so unless that changes, I'd try not to worry." She knew her mate to well to believe that it was just Rhys who was worrying about her sister.

"I know. I'm mostly just excited to meet the kid." Nesta chuckled again and rested an arm on his shoulder,

"You do know that they'll be a baby first, they'll have a bit of growing up to do before you can claim to be 'the best uncle the world has ever seen' y'know." Cassian smirked at her impression of him,

"I sound nothing like that,"

"Yes, you do," she chuckled, mimicking him again, "I'm Cassian, I'm a cocky shit. Nesta, I loooove you."

"Oh, fuck off, I do not sound like that," Nesta laughed again at Cassian's attempt to sound tough, but noticed the corners of his mouth creeping up slightly.

"Awwww, is the poor baby general being bullied by his mate?" She crooned, leaping out of reach when he made to prod her again.

"Shut up, Nes," he half-chuckled, half-groaned, and reached out to prod her, once again missing, "Get back here you,"

"Oh no, I know that look,"

"Sweetheart, get back over here,"

"I could, but this time, you will have to catch me first," with that she shot out of the study, giggling at the sound of Cassian's chair clattering to the floor and his footsteps behind her. She darted into the kitchen, using the island to keep Cassian away from her as he skidded in just behind her. He narrowed his eyes at her, but she just grinned and waved in response, watching him trying to think of a way to get her before she escaped again. She glanced sideways to check her escape route, and didn't notice him start to move. By the time he had leapt over the island, she barely had time to dart away and sprint back up the stairs, her mate's chuckles following her,

"Well, that was stupid, you're trapped in a dead end, sweetheart, just make this easy for yourself." She ignored him and ducked into a bathroom, hoping he hadn't seen where she went, and held her breath. She waited ten seconds, twenty, it seemed he hadn't seen her, but she had no idea where he was, she couldn't hear his footsteps any more. Daring a glance out of the door, she couldn't see anything amiss on the landing, no traps, no Cassian, a free run.

She broke out of the door and was a few steps from the stairs when she was dragged backwards, Cassian's arms around her waist,

"No!" She screeched, trying to wriggle away, to no avail as she was dragged back the way she had come, into the room where her mate had been hiding, back to the desk he had been sat at before. Cassian righted his chair with one hand, restraining Nesta with the other and pulled her into his lap.

"Uh oh, looks like I caught you," she made a face at him, and he chuckled, running his hands up and down her sides, "But what to do with you?" He frowned, and pursed his lips, remaining silent for so long that Nesta started squirming in his lap again, and he squeezed her waist to stop her. "I suppose I should punish you for running away from me, should I do that, sweetheart?"

"N-no," she managed, wriggling again, and gasping when his hand came up to grip her throat, not squeezing, but just holding firm, "Please."

"Please what?"

"Please, General," she whined, "Don't - don't punish me, please." She tried to turn to face him, but he held her firm,

"We'll see, perhaps if you're good now, you can redeem yourself," she whimpered at the promise in his words, and nodded, barley holding herself back from wriggling as he fell silent again.

She was staring to wonder if he was actually going to do anything when he surged up and pinned her face-down on the desk, paper scattering around them. She gasped and he held her still with a hand between her shoulderblades, pulling her pants off and tossing them aside. He panties quickly earned the same fate, and she whimpered at the feel of him nudging her legs apart. He let go for a few moments, but she stayed where she was, not wanting to risk a punishment tonight. She tried to rub her thighs together at the sound of Cassian peeling away his own leathers, but a sharp smack on her ass made her freeze,

"Only I'm allowed to touch you, sweetheart." She froze and allowed him to nudge her legs back apart, and moaned when his hands dipped underneath her to unbutton her shirt and pull it off, and Cassian groaned himself when he saw that she had forsaken a bra,

"What? I wasn't leaving the house today," he didn't respond with words, instead he leaned down and left a trail of kisses along her spine, before stepping away,

"You look so beautiful like this," he almost-whispered,

"What?"

"Bent over my desk, naked," he paused for a second, "Wet, wanting," He stepped back up to her and ran a finger through that wetness, and Nesta could almost sense his smirk at her moan. He circled her clit once, then pushed that finger inside her, a second joining it before long. As she began to wriggle, his second hand found its way to her hair, holding her still against the desk as he fucked her slowly with his fingers, dragging whimpers and moans from her,

"Please, General, please, please,"

"What? You've gotta use your words, sweetheart,"

"I - I want-" she broke off with a gasp as he pushed her face against the hard wood a little harder,

"Didn't catch that sweetheart,"

"Prick," she muttered under her breath and he must have heard it because instantly his fingers were removed and he pinned her hips still,

"That's not very nice, sweetheart," she whimpered at his voice, dropped lower than usual, a slight growl in his tone, "Count for me,"

"What?"

"Count for me," he repeated, the only warning he gave before his hand landed back on her ass, hard, enough to hurt a little bit, but not too much. She scrunched her face up and shook her head, a little flash of fear finding its way into her at his answering chuckle. When his hand came down again, it was harder, and she jerked forward on the desk a little. He squeezed her ass, giving her a chance to count, but she still refused. It only took one more before she whined, and whispered, almost too quietly for him to hear,

"One,"

"I can't hear you, sweetheart,"

"One," she repeated, louder this time,

"Good girl," he rubbed her lower back, "Just a few more now," she whined but nodded her head, reassuring him that she was okay. She whimpered when he spanked her again, and just remembered to whimper,

"Two," he continued, praising her after each spank, until she squealed out "Five,"

"There, all you had to do was count to five, was that so hard?" She shook her head, still whining softly, "I said, was that so hard?"

"No, General," she whimpered, and screamed when he pushed into her in one go,

"I think I'll be nice tonight," he said, pulling out before slamming his hips back against her, still holding her motionless, "And let you come whenever you want," she couldn't answer him, not as every movement had her seeing stars, had pleasure rising inside her, washed away any pain left form the spankings.

One of his hands dipped beneath her to find her clit again, and he rubbed it in time with his thrusts, quickly sending her flying over the edge, screaming his name, but he didn't stop, not as she became too sensitive afterwards, not when she came again, and again, not when she was sobbing with pleasure, and collapsed limp across the desk.

He gripped her hair, and pulled her up a little, just enough that he could suck at the skin of her neck, leaving a mark there,

"Mine, you're mine," he whispered in her ear, and she just whimpered in response, trying to roll her hips against his when he stopped moving. He bit down gently on her ear, tugging lightly with his teeth and her eyes fluttered shut, her breathing speeding up as she neared another climax. This time, he flew over the edge with her, spilling inside her and shouting her name. Her own moans were loud enough that she was sure anyone outside would have heard, but for once, she didn't care, she screamed his name like it was the only thing holding her to life, and her surroundings faded away, until it was just her, and him.

He released his grip on her hair, and flipped her over so that she was lying on her back, with him standing between her legs, already hardening again. She smiled up at him, and hooked her legs around his waist, tugging him closer,

"Not had enough yet, have you, General?" She teased, and he cut her off by kissing her, his tongue sliding into her mouth, taking full control, and she let him, there were times to take turns calling the shots, now was not one of them, she didn't want to think, to choose what she wanted him to do her next, she just wanted him to fill her so thoroughly that nothing else mattered. She didn't register him shifting his hips, nor him lining up with her, but she screamed wordlessly into his mouth as he pushed back into her, his thrusts even harder than before, and only his hold on her kept her from falling off the desk. She cried out his name again and again, tears of pleasure rolling down her face, and Cassian kissed hem away, all the while muttering words of praise to her, and holding her head gently to keep it from hitting the desk. He came once more, and she followed him immediately after, dropping limp in his arms, and he hefted her off the desk, into his arms, kissing her temple and face as he carried her to their bedroom,

"Alright, sweetheart?"

"Uh-huh," she turned and buried her face in his neck, hiding from the sudden brightness of their bedroom lights, "I love you," she mumbled against his neck and he kissed her hair,

"I know. I love you more,"

"Nuh-uh," she mumbled, still hiding from the lights,

"Yes, I do,"

"No. Impossible," she finally pulled her face out from his neck to look him in the eyes, and he just chuckled,

"Shall we just agree that we both love each other very much, and not compete about it?" She frowned, considering,

"Okay," and scrunched up her face when he sat down on the bed, his wings no longer shielding her from the lights,

"You're adorable, you know that?"

"No, I'm not, I'm scary, terrifying, death incar-" she sneezed as a feather from one of the pillows wafted upwards, and Cassian chuckled, and mussed her hair,

"You're my adorable mate, now shut up and let me love you." He flopped back onto the bed, pulling her down with him so that she was lying on his chest, and wrapped a wing around her. He kissed her nose gently before she snuggled into him, mumbling just before she fell asleep,

"You're adorable."

[glitteryhellhole]

Doc being Doc 3/?

In which Doc prescribes medical marijuana to 10K.

Fandom: Z nation Word count: approx 1000 Warnings: Nightmares. and weed. My blog is 18+ so interact at your own discretion

Parts 1 and 2 (this series is basically just one-shots)

He wakes with a jolt, gasping a breath that smells and tastes of danger. There's one here. The Z crawls towards him, reaching out to grab. Its face comes into view, rotten flesh peeling from the dislocated jaw.

“Tommy...”

He kicks, reaching for his gun, flailing in the darkness. But he's rooted to the ground.

“You didn't do it...” It- he- is close enough now to spray specks of blood from his gaping mouth as he rasps. “You promised... Tommy...” A filthy clawed hand smothers his face, he can't breathe.

“Dad!”

He wakes for real this time, the hand covering his mouth his own. 10K shudders and sits upright, feeling cold sweat.

“Hey.” A torch light shines in his direction. “It's me”

Doc.

10K steadies his breath as he looks around; they're in a barn which is part of a commune-turned-survivor camp. The residents, mostly children and elderly, had been happy to provide food and supplies in exchange for a couple days' manual labour.

“Same dream?” Doc asks quietly. “That's at least four nights in a row now.”

10K can't remember the last time he managed to get real rest, and he's been volunteering for night watch as a distraction,  but his aim has begun to suffer. Tonight though, Doc is on duty, and the radio is quietly serenading him.

“I can't make it stop,” he mumbles, looking at the crescent moon nail marks on his palms. “Its stupid. But it won't go away.”

Doc drapes an arm over his shoulder. “Nothing stupid about it kid, we've experienced some pretty messed up shit.”

Glancing around the barn, 10K breathes a sigh of relief that he didn't wake everyone else up by yelling this time. Whatever Doc says, its still embarrassing.

“You need to relax a bit, get some proper shut-eye.” Doc pulls something from his shirt pocket. “How 'bout it?”

10K squints at the joint. His Dad always said that drugs were for rockstars and communists. But if he can't sleep then he can't shoot.

“I guess so.” He sighs.

Doc lights the joint, takes a puff, and then passes it over. “It's not too different to a cig. You wanna take a breath first, and then sort of suck in, so it goes down into your lungs.”

10K gingerly takes the joint and breathes in, then sucks- and splutters.

“Not like that!”

“Argh, its up my nose.” He steels himself then tries again, and this time he inhales properly. It tastes like burned cheese.

“Give it a minute before you take another, this isn't beginner strength.” Doc takes back the joint and hits a few times in quick succession as he studies 10K's face.

Oh. There it is.

A wave of calm descends on him like a gentle trickle of hot water, his muscles unclenching.

“I think its working,” he mumbles, and is surprised by how his voice sounds.

“Sounds like it.” Doc hands him the joint and brings the radio closer, turning it up just slightly. “Our good pal Citizen Z is running through the best of Dire Straits. Best band to come out of Britain. The Beatles are overrated.”

10K inhales another mouthful of weed, feeling the endorphin rush. “Beetles are quite tasty actually.”

He's actually heard Doc mention the band before, but it doesn't matter because he just made a joke and its really, really funny.

He's trying so hard not to laugh too loud that he drops ash onto his lap. “Ow!”

“Careful!” Doc quickly takes back the joint and flicks off the ash. “Oh yeah, that reminds me. Don't ever smoke this stuff naked. Easy to drop off with it in your hand, then next thing y'know you're roasting your chestnuts.”

10K winces and crosses his legs.

“Man, that nudist commune was one of the best places I ever lived. Had to leave for the winter though.”

Everything's fuzzy now, but in a pleasant way. 10K leans back against the corrugated metal wall and lets his eyes close, listening to the music.

“You wanna talk about it, kid?”

“What, being naked?”

“The nightmares I mean.” The light is dim but it looks like Doc's blowing smoke rings.

10K remembers how it starts differently each time, but always ends up with the corpse that used to be his Father coming for him, hungry and accusational. The lurching twist in the pit of his stomach comes as usual but its definitely less pronounced.

“I don't think it matters right now.” He takes one more hit, and starts to feel like he's floating on a cushion of air. Citizen Z's smooth voice emanating from the radio is a gentle breeze, softly nudging his cloud across the sky.

“Whatever time zone you're in, I want to wish you a safe and calm evening. Especially to my good friends Operation Bitemark. Here's one more record to see you off.”

Even though he doesn't recognise the music, 10K is comforted by it. Doc's singing along very quietly next to him as he takes the last toke. Faint sounds of the others breathing slowly and deeply in their sleep. Safe and calm indeed.

A joke occurs to him and its gone again before he can articulate it but its so hilarious that he has to shove his fist in his mouth again, this time to suppress hysteria rather than screams.

“What's so funny?” asks Doc.

“I...” 10K wheezes as he hold in the laughter. “I can't remember.”

“Okay. That's about where you want to be.” Doc picks up 10K's blanket and drapes it over him. “Feelin' sleepy now?”

10K becomes aware that while the rest of him feels feather-light, his eyelids are incredibly heavy. He nods and lets himself slip sideways to lie down.

“Thanks Doc.” He murmurs. Maybe it doesn't actually come out, because he's asleep the moment his cheek rests on his arm. But he's sure that Doc knows he means it.

The only thing he dreams of is being a cloud floating in the warm blue sky.

----Note:  Whether using drugs for medical or recreational purposes, please remember to stay safe and know your limits. 

[jaceyneedsabetterusername]

Who Knows?

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: Depictions of gore and blood, drunkenness

Summary: When you don't get there in time to save a young couple, the weight of the job starts to take it's toll. Trying to drink to forget that same night in the bunker, you end up drunkenly confessing your big fantasy to Dean.

A/N: Sorry if the formatting is off on this. I posted it on my phone instead of my laptop!

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

Blood. There was so much blood. It was on them, on the floor, on the walls, on your clothes. You thought you'd beat the werewolf there and save that young couple but the second you busted through the door of their apartment, it was too late. The werewolf had its teeth sunk into the pregnant young woman, who flailed on the ground screaming. Her fiancee's lifeless, bloody body lied crumpled on the floor a few feet away. You immediately shot the monster in the head and ran towards the woman to see how badly she injured. 

It was bad. The skin over her chest was ripped open far too badly for you to be able to fix and she'd already lost so much blood, you knew she wouldn't last until the ambulance got there. Regardless, you called 911 but by the time they got there, the woman had died in your arms. 

The drive back was silent. Your jeans and long sleeve shirt had become caked in dark crimson blotches from where her body lied on you. You reached down into your bag that was crumpled by your feet and pulled out a flask, making the stupid decision to chug the hard liquor inside while driving and not even feeling it burn 

By the time you got back to the bunker, you'd already chugged the whole flask and had begun feeling quite tipsy. But that wasn't enough. You wanted to forget, needed to forget. 

Wordless, you entered the bunker and made a beeline for the kitchen. Behind, you heard Sam ask, "How'd it go?" 

You didn't say a word, only stomped into the kitchen but neither of the boys missed the blood stains all over your body. They could tell it wasn't yours and by the way you were acting, they were almost certain of what had happened. 

You hadn't heard Dean come into the kitchen where you were reaching for a glass until he requested, "Hey, grab me one too?" 

With a shrug, you grabbed him one too and then swiftly reached for a random bottle off the liquor shelf. Without even glancing at it, you poured yourself a glass of the mystery brown liquid that was about twice as full as a normal serving and threw it back in just two gulps. You handed Dean the glass and the bottle and he poured his own, glancing at you cautiously as you panted, trying to feel again. 

Once he'd, set the bottle down, you grabbed it and took a swig from the bottle itself and jumped up to sit on the counter. Dean leaned against the metal island staring at the floor and the two of you sat in silence for at least five minutes before he tried to comfort you, "You got there as fast as you could."

"But it wasn't fast enough." You hiccuped, "She died in my arms Dean." 

Dean sighed, "I know, Y/N. But we literally found out about the case today. This is one of the fastest cases we've ever worked. You couldn't have gotten to them sooner. 

You couldn't even take your eyes off the ground. They'd glazed over with tears that you tried to hold in. "Maybe you should take a shower. Get changed. We can ta-"

"Y'know she was pregnant? She begged me to save her and then she begged me to save her baby when she knew she wasn't gonna make it. And then she begged me to stay with her so she wouldn't die alone." Angry tears spilled down your cheeks as you took another huge chug of what you'd discovered was cheap whiskey. 

Dean leaned forward and grabbed the bottle from your hand, "Okay, let's slow down on this." In your drunken state, you started to cough, choking momentarily as droplets of the firey liquid found their way into your lungs. 

"NO!" You yelled, trying to snatch it back but failing drunkenly, "I'm so tired of this Dean! We try so hard but people are still dying all around us! People we try to save, people we love! Your parents are dead! My best friend is dead! Hell, even you've died!" Hiccups interrupted every few words, "Maybe all I want is a normal life with a white fucking picket fence and kids and a dog and a husband that won't get fucking murdered like everyone else we love!" 

Dean came up to you and leaned close, trying to calm you down, his hands resting on your arms, "Hey, Y/N, we save people. You save people. You're right, we've lost a lot of people on the way. But you're the reason so many people are still alive today. You're a hero." 

"Maybe I don't wanna be a hero anymore." You cried, huffing away, before clumsily holding is hands, "Dean, let's run away together. Me and you. We can get married and have that little house with the picket fence and kids and dogs and we won't have to have to keep knives under our pillows at night!" 

Dean let you collapse drunkenly against him, the tears finally slowing. There's no way you meant that. He needed to remind himself not to get his hopes up. You were drunk and emotional and you didn't know what you were saying, right?  

Before he knew it,  you were snoring against his shoulder,  all your weight sliding off the counter and into his grip,  "Oh! Okay, kid, let's get you to bed." He lifted you effortlessly off the counter and carried you to the bathroom. 

***

You woke up in your bed the next morning (if 11:00 am counted as morning) with a pounding headache and quite confused. Unfortunately, you remembered the depressing events of last night until about your fifth shot of whiskey. It was all fuzzy after that. 

With a groan, you rolled out of bed and were immediately confused as to why you were now wearing a large oversized t-shirt and a pair of boxer shorts as pajama bottoms instead of the clothes you wore last night. Maybe you got changed before you fell asleep? 

You ungracefully padded your way into the briefing room where Sam and Dean sat with several books open. Dean chuckled, "Ah, there she is!" He announced proudly. 

"How you feeling?" Sam asked apologetically as he watched you smooth down your hair that was sticking up everywhere. 

"What happened?" You asked, plopping down next to Sam. 

Dean shrugged, "Hunt went bad and you came back pretty toasted. Don't drink and drive by the way, idiot. Anyways, you drank even more when you got here but we got you to bed." 

You groaned, shielding your eyes from the bright light, "I didn't do anything embarrassing, did I?" Frankly, you were afraid of the answer. 

Sam shook his head. "Nothing too bad. You told Dean you guys should get married and run away together." 

Your eyes widened, "Oh my God!" You collapsed, hiding your face in your hands.  You prayed that he just thought it was a joke because if he knew you really secretly felt that way about him, everything would change and you were sure if it would be for the good. 

Dean stiffened at the mention of your fantasy you'd described last night and remembered the dream of it he had that night. It was a dream he'd had many times before, a thought that had definitely occurred to him prior to your drunken confession. But he couldn't tell you that because you just said it cause you were drunk. You would've asked Sam to run away with you if he'd been in Dean's place! Right? 

"We're gonna pretend like that didn't happen." You waved your hands, trying to clear the past of what you'd said, "What else happened?" 

Dean chuckled, "Well you fell asleep on me, almost fell off the counter, and I couldn't let you sleep in those clothes so I tried to get you as clean as I could without, well… yeah. But I got you changed into pajamas and, I swear I kept my eyes closed as much as possible!" He was flustered and Sam laughed, remembering how he and Dean had struggled to clean you up last night without crossing any boundaries and the way Dean blushed like a 13 year old boy who'd just discovered Playboy when they peeled the blood soaked shirt off your unconscious form. 

"You saw me naked?!" You couldn't believe this. You trusted the boys with your life and knew they would never do anything to harm you but, you had to say, being drunkenly passed out was not the way you'd envisioned Dean seeing you naked for the first time. 

Sam put his hands up quickly in reassurance, "No! Just underwear! I swear!" 

You hated when the boys felt like they had to take care of you like that but nonetheless, you thanked them for helping you out last night, "And I'm sorry I got so drunk. It was a rough hunt. But here, lemme get y'all a cup of thank you coffee." You pressed yourself up and poured three cups of coffee and walked them back to the boys. 

They nodded their thanks and everyone took a sip, the coffee not doing much to help your hangover. Suddenly, Sam chuckled beside you. "What's so funny?" Dean asked, looking over his feet that were on the table. 

Sam smiled and shook his head, "Just thinking of you and Y/N getting married." 

Your heart sank. Was the thought of it so preposterous? "What's so funny about that?" Dean questioned defensively. 

"Just that you two are so much alike, I couldn't imagine dealing with you two together." Sam went on. 

You scoffed, "Y'know what? Maybe we'll get married just to spite you!" 

"Yeah! We'll walk down to the court house right now!" Dean's feet left the table top and returned to the floor. 

Sam gestured towards the two of you, who identically were leaning towards him, "See what I mean?! Look what you're doing now! Who knows what you'd do if you were actually together?" 

Yeah, you sighed to yourself, who knows… 

[ccwastaken]

I. Hate. This. Venue.

Listen okay, I've played in a lot of places, but never before have I been somewhere that puts only sparkling water in the dressing rooms which, by the way, have no air conditioning, AND puts the stuff in the WATER COOLERS. What kind of HELLSCAPE did Rudy have us play in?!

It's bad enough I have to watch Scarlett rip through entire boxes of la croix on a weekly basis...

I would say the upside to this is that the leather couch in my dressing room is comfy, but considering I'm drenched in sweat and currently shirtless, it's not. I groan and peel myself off the couch (probably losing skin in the process) and slip my shirt back on. It's probably cooler outside, I reckon, so I leave the dressing room.

"Phew." Much cooler. Better.

"Well if it isn't the pinna per hamburgers." A smooth, Italian accented voice interrupts my thoughts. I grin.

"Carlo?" I move off the door and look over at him.

"It's been a while." He smirks at me. "How has it been?"

I can't help but smile back. The guy has an infectious smile, y'know? "I'm good," I stuff my hands into my pockets. "How's Koilee?"

"Good," he leans against the wall beside me. Our arms are almost touching. "How about Rita?"

"Same old same old," I smirk at him. "Still dragging me to movies at every opportunity."

"And the little one?"

"Tina?" I chuckle a bit. "Still a ball of energy. Rita was telling her off for drawing on the walls when I left."

Carlo laughs. "Sounds like my goddaughter." He murmurs softly. Our eyes meet, just for a few moments, and I feel my stomach lurch. Its always done that, since I was a teen. Carlo's eyes...they're mesmerising.

"Would you want kids, gioso?" I ask randomly. He smiles a bit at the nickname.

"...Maybe," he murmurs. "But I don't know if I could."

I arch a brow. "Whaddya mean?" I lean my arm against the wall to face him better.

He shrugs, and doesn't say anything more. I frown.

"Gioso?"

"It's nothing, Marty," he looks at me with those gorgeous green eyes. "I'm just- thinking."

"You can actually do that?" I ask, feigning shock. "I had no idea you were capable of thought!"

He laughs, a sweet noise that makes him sound so...handsome. That's the only word I can think of to describe it. Making him laugh has always made me feel good.

"Seriously though-" he looks at me as I lean off the wall, standing in front of him. "You looked upset for a second there- you alright?"

He looks at me and sighs. "I don't think my partner could have a child." he says softly. I frown.

"You have a girlfriend?" I ask, surprised. He's never mentioned a partner before. I would've heard about her before, right?

"Marty..." When- when did his face get so close to mine? I never even noticed it, why's he getting so cl-

"M-MPHH-!"

OH.

HE'S KISSING ME.

THAT'S WHY HE GOT SO CLOSE.

My entire body jolts, skin breaking out in goosebumps. Part of me is screaming to get this crazy Italian off of me, but it's mostly unheard by my body naturally leaning into the kiss. Our lips knead together, softly at first, like Carlo is testing the waters, then rougher.

He falls roughly against the wall, pulling me with him by my hips. My hand is splayed out against the wall beside his face, or at least I think so. I'm too scared to open my eyes. My other hand is gripping his shirt tightly, whether out of panicky fear or neediness I'm not sure.

I feel one of his hands move off my hip and onto my shoulder. I'm pulled closer against him, our bodies touching. The hand on my shoulder has moved, and now it's gripping the back of my shirt.

My senses are going crazy. Carlo's kisses are rough and frantic, like he knows he's on borrowed time. I can smell him too. Strong Italian spices and ice cream. It's a weird smell- it makes me oddly hungry.

His head tilts up slightly, and I feel his tongue run along my lips. Without thinking I open my mouth for him.

His tongue is just as frantic, if not more. He tastes of oregano and something sugary. I fight against his tongue weakly, but I'm subdued pretty quickly. His hands move back to my hips and he hugs me against him. I shiver wherever I'm touched. His kisses and his touching is getting slower and more gentle, and I panic. He's going to move away from me- I don't know why but I don't want this kiss to end. I would rather die than stop kissing Carlo Romano.

Unfortunately, Carlo Romano seems to be uninterested in that idea, as he pushes me away from him. His cheeks are redder than Scarlett's hair and he's shaking. He slowly pulls his hands away from me and relaxes against the wall, panting for air. I'm out of breath too, and my face feels like it's on fire.

"Wh-" what am I even supposed to SAY to that?! My best friend just- kissed me! And I strangely enjoyed it- but still! He kissed me!

"That's why I couldn't have children." He murmurs in between pants. I stare at him.

"Bu-" I don't know what to say to him. "I'm- I'm not- y'know-"

"Gay?" He finishes for me. I nod.

"Yeah that. I'm straight-" of course I'm straight! I have a girlfriend, and a daughter! I shouldn't be kissing gu- I HAVE A GIRLFRIEND. I can't help but feel guilty. I've never kissed Rita like that- with so much intensity.

She'll probably be so mad if she finds out...

"Marty?" Carlo has stood up. He gently grabs my hand and I tense.

"I don't- I don't like you that way," I can't even bring myself to look at him. It feels like I'm breaking his heart. "I'm sorry." I pull my hand away from his.

He's silent, then simply nods. "...I understand."

I don't say a word, I just go back into my stuffy dressing room and collapse on the couch. My brain is a whirlwind of thoughts.

"He kissed me. Why would he kiss me? He's my best friend- we've known each other since we were in highschool! Does- does he like me...?" I hear a sigh outside the dressing room and footsteps. "Of course he likes me, why else would he kiss me?" I screw my eyes shut in frustration. "Rita will be so mad- how could I do that to her?! Not to mention poor Tina-" I stare up at the stains on the ceiling.

"He's probably drunk, that's why he did it." I think. Yeah- yeah! That's probably it! After all, the dressing room has a mini fridge in it, packed with sparkling water, soda and some cheap booze. I've only touched the soda but...some alcohol sounds great by now. I sit up slowly and walk over to the mini fridge. Yep. A shelf full of cans of some cheap stuff you'd only buy if you were a stupid dumb teen with a fake ID. Or Rudy.

I grab one, crack it open, and take a swig. "Eugh." Yeah I think that sums it up.

Thirty minutes, out of stress and thoughts that won't leave me be, I've polished off five cans, and I'm halfway through my sixth. So I'm more than tipsy when there's a knock on my door.

"Marty?" SHIT IT'S CLOVER FUCK OH NO NO NO I'M TRYING TO HAVE AN EXISTENTIAL CRISIS HERE I DON'T WANT YOU HERE DARLING SISTER NOT NOW-

"Uh. Yeah?"

"Rudy and Scarlet said we can leave. Get your stuff."

"Sure." SHIT FUCK NO NO FUCK AAAAAA-

I climb to my feet, and promptly stumble back into the wall. "Oof-" definitely drank too much. And I can still taste Carlo in my mouth. Great. Hurriedly, I put my jacket on and clean up my hair. It might be enough to give the illusion that I'm sober. I walk out of the changing room holding my guitar case and look at Clover.

She looks tired, and hopefully not in the mood for talking. She looks me over and frowns. "You doing okay?" She asks. Fuck.

"Yeah yeah- fine...'m just tired."

Clover frowns again, then shrugs and walks past me. "C'mon." She says simply. Okay, that went fine. She's not suspicious at all.

I follow her to the parking lot, just in time to see Scarlett wave at us through the window of her red pick-up before driving off. Leaving me with Clover and her green sedan. I toss my guitar case into the back seat and climb into the front. Clover revs up the engine and we begin the longest, most awkward drive of my life.

"Did you see the Romano Quartet were there?" Clover asks. I suddenly really wish the passenger side door wasn't locked.

"Huh? Yeah." I decide not to mention Carlo.

"Yeah, Carlo came by my dressing room. He seemed bothered about something so I mostly talked to Bruna," she glances at me. "Do you know what was bothering him?"

"Me? No. Why would I?"

"Well you're his best friend." She says. "Did you even talk to him?"

"No." I really, really don't want to talk right now.

"Why not?" She looks at me again, confused. "You guys haven't seen each other since..."

"Since you got your job at the sushi place." I finish, my tone firmer than I wanted it to be. Clover stops at a red light and looks me over.

"Marty- what's wrong?" She asks. I don't answer, just stare out the window. "Bro?"

"It's nothing." I mutter to her. She doesn't say anything, just starts driving again. The world seems to shake around me and I close my eyes tightly. Fucking booze- why did I drink so much?

The car comes to a halt outside me and Rita's house. I glance at Clover, then climb out. I hesitate. "Get home safe, okay sis?" I say before closing the door. I grab my guitar from the backseat, then walk up the garden path. My head is swimming and walking in a straight line feels impossible.

I fumble with my keys until the door magically opens and stumble inside, steadying myself as the world turns. Ugh- why did I have to drink so much...?

"Marty?" I look up in surprise at Rita, poking her head out of the living room doorway. She grins at me. "How was the show?"

"It- it was fine." I completely forgot I'd been at a show. All I remember is being shoved against a wall and kissed like it was the end of the world. "Venue was weird but- that's about it." I walk slowly towards the stairs, past Rita.

"Are you okay?" She asks. I nod and brave the first few steps.

"Yeah just- tired."

"...are you drunk?" I look over at her. Damn- guess my shaky walking threw me off.

"Rudy dared me to drink a whole bunch." I lie. She rolls her eyes and shakes her head.

"And you went with it?"

"I got $20." I say with a forced smirk. "Worth it."

Rita smiles at me a small bit. "Go get some rest, you big idiot."

I nod and slowly and carefully make my way up the stairs. I walk down the hall past Tina's room and into me and Rita's bedroom. I pull off my jacket and flop onto the bed. I shut my eyes and sigh, just processing everything that happened. "I have to tell Rita." I think guiltily. I roll over onto my side and curl up into a ball, trying to relax enough to sleep.

My mouth still tastes of fucking oregano.

[emeraldwaves]

Title: Silent Screams Rating: M Word Count:  1,695 Read on AO3 Summary:   When Cloud is lost in a white haze, it's Zack's voice that keeps him connected to reality.

Full fic under the the cut!! @youaremynewdream read this ahead of time and it’s based on the prompt  "Hey, I’m with you, okay? Always."

So many things are hazy. The world is coated in white smoke and bright lights, his body heavy and aching. The pain is hot and throbbing, coursing through his blood. If he could move his hands, he'd want to scratch his nails down his arms and rip his skin off; peel it away piece by piece, if only to get relief from this pressure. This poison will surely kill him; it's too much for his body.

He's always known he wouldn't make it. His body isn't compatible. He's bound to die. He wants to. At least it would make him lighter, euphoric when the heat and throbbing pain is gone.

But no, somehow he is alive, hanging by some sound in the far distance.

"I got you..."

The sound is a voice. It's one he is so familiar with, one he's heard in so many different ways. It's in the distance of the white haze.

"...-ght Cloud?"

It fades in and out, like a distant memory, hidden in the deepest recess of his mind.

"Cloud!"

Who... why is it impossible to place? It makes him feel so warm, so comfortable, like a blanket of words wrapping around his skin, fighting off the angry heat.

"I got you buddy. I promise."

 Zack.

Cloud wants to scream his name, is desperate to. He wants to cut through the haze with his voice and tell Zack to escape on his own. However, the words get lost in his throat; they can't break through the invisible barrier blocking his throat. He can hear Zack so clearly, the only ounce of clarity he has in his white world of pain.

Nothing is clear but Zack.

But why? And why is Zack here? Or a better question is perhaps why is Cloud with Zack? He needs to run if he's capable. There's no reason for Zack to take Cloud with him. Knowing Zack it's probably because he feels the need to be a hero, embarrassing idiot. He's already Cloud's hero without having to rescue him. He still wishes he could be as cool as Zack, not that he ever will be; he'll never escape this lifeless state.

A hand is on his shoulder. "Hey, I’m with you, okay? Always."

No. Cloud thinks, and through his white haze he sees Zack's bright blue eyes and spiky dark hair. Why?

He's useless. Utterly useless. Always has been, always will be. He couldn't even rescue Tifa. No, Cloud is incapable of doing anything remotely useful, so there's no reason for Zack to save him.

But he still does. He's Zack, and being a hero is what he does best.

There are times when Cloud is directly pressed against Zack's back. He's carrying him. He can smell his musky scent, hear the way his boots drag heavily against the ground. Everything around him is so Zack, Cloud can't deny the obvious. He wants to beg Zack to put him down and run. Run away.

"Hey..." Cloud hears Zack's voice, can make out his face among the darker backdrop. Everything still looks so white, but he can see the smile on Zack's pale face. His eyes shimmer with loneliness, and Cloud wants to reach his hand out and touch Zack somewhere, anywhere, just so he knows Cloud is with him and he knows he's not alone.

"...Do you remember when we first met? I know, I know, you can't answer me..."

 I want to!

"...and who knows if you can even hear me when you're like this."

 I can hear you!

Zack laughs and the sound is heavenly, so soothing for the pain collecting in his veins. "I probably should stop talking to you, you probably want rest-"

 Please, don't stop. Never stop.

Zack's voice is the only thing keeping him alive.

"But I also am kind of tired right now, and I don't want to fall asleep so I'm going to talk to you. Anyway, the first time we met... man, that mountain was damn cold wasn't it?" Zack laughs again, running his fingers through his messy black hair. "But we handled ourselves better than all of them, us country boys! Do you remember?"

Cloud does, but he has a confession, one he doesn't know how to make. He met Zack a few times before, once in the hallways at Shinra... another time when Zack gave a motivational speech to his squad. He'd seen him around plenty of times, but it wasn't until that particular mission they'd actually talked.

"Kinda silly, but I always thought you were cute, even back then. You looked so beautiful... your blond hair so bright against the white snow."

Cloud wishes he could push him for being so damn embarrassing.

Zack starts talking to him every night, or what Cloud perceives to be every night. It's a little darker when he talks more intimately like this, though the white is constantly threatening to take over his vision. Cloud fights it; fights it to hear Zack's voice.

"You know, I wanted to take you on a date somewhere cool, but you always got so sick whenever you had to travel on moving vehicles, so I didn't want to risk it."

 You should've, I would've survived.

He laughs sadly. "You always looked so miserable. And I wanted you to enjoy our private dates. Hell, I'm probably making you sicker, driving you around like this."

Cloud does wonder where exactly they're going. It's impossible for him to see, but he trusts Zack, relies on him. He won't let anything happen to them.

"You know sometimes when we're just sitting here, me and you, I wanna kiss ya! But then I think that'd probably be weird."

 Do it.

"I mean... I know it's nothing we haven't done before, but with you barely being conscious it feels, uh, a little awkward..."

 No, do it, please!

Cloud remembers his first kiss with Zack. Together, they had hid down a corridor in the hallways of Shinra. He recalls how rough his hands were, but they were so gentle when they pulled Cloud's cheeks forward, slotting their lips together perfectly. Cloud had kept his eyes open for a moment before realizing they probably should be shut. Zack's lips had caressed his own, and he hadn't meant to let Zack do all the work, but he had been mesmerized by it.

"But then again who knows! Maybe true love’s kiss will break you from this spell!" He laughs so loud at that, his smile pulling across his cheeks. Cloud almost believes his smile will be enough to clear the fog away.

"I do, y'know," he shrugs. "Love you, I mean. I don't know if I ever told you."

He hasn't, but Cloud knows. He knows from the way Zack moves inside of him, and keeps his blue eyes locked on Cloud's when they kiss and make love. Zack is gentle and loving, a tease too sometimes; he loves pulling beautiful sounds from Cloud's lips. He's so kind and generous, how could Cloud not know.

 I love you too...

And this is how it goes; Zack speaks and Cloud attempts to think as loud as he can, in hopes that Zack might hear him...

The truck rumbles, and he can see Zack's face, but he's having a difficult time hearing his voice. Why? Why can he only hear the sounds of the truck as it rolls over the dirt? There are shouts when the truck comes to a screeching halt, and though Cloud can still only see a vast whiteness, he can sense something is wrong.

Zack's back is the last thing he sees after everything stops moving. His back is rest against something hard, and he sees Zack running away. He tries to scream because he knows; there is no way Zack will come back alive.

Finally, he raises his hand, reaching, hoping to grasp at any part of Zack to stop him, but Zack's already turned around. Far away. He's gone.

The color starts to return to Cloud's world when he hears the massive amount of gunshots. The sky opens up to cry, and he actually feels the water on his skin. His limbs are heavy, his legs incapable of moving.

 Zack!

He has to see him, he has to.

He pulls his body towards Zack's bleeding form. The red is so bright, soaking into the ground, mingling with the water flowing onto the ground. Of course he can see colors so clearly now, a cruel miracle.

"Zack..." he grunts, his voice hoarse and quiet. He glances down at Zack's face, watching his chest rise and fall sporadically with his labored breathing. Water soaks his hair, droplets falling onto Zack's chest, spreading the blood across his shirt.

"Cloud..." he breathes, his hand rising to cup his cheek. He wants to tell him to save his strength, but Cloud can see the bullet wounds. There are far too many.

He's dying.

 "Hey, I’m with you, okay? Always."

So much for 'always'... There are so many things he has to say! Zack can't die yet, not like this. He wants to know his story, how he got them this far. He has to thank him for rescuing him! He has to tell him he loves him too...

"You have to live... for both of us."

But how? He tries to listen to every world Zack says, absorb every word his voice speaks; the voice which kept him alive.

"I..." He hates how much his voice hurts, as though he hasn't spoken in decades. He's never been great with words though, so maybe this is a blessing in disguise.

"My honor... my dreams..." He holds out the handle of his sword, Angeal's sword. Cloud knows all about it, Zack's most treasured item.

He can't let him down. Not now. Not after everything Zack has done for him.

Wrapping his hands around the handle of the heavy sword, Cloud bites his lip with determination. He will live. He will. After all Zack's done, how could he not? He has to live for both of them.

"I'm your... living legacy."

Zack's breath stops silently. His world goes white once again.

And Cloud screams.

[ahoforhavoc]

Patience

Prompt #56 - "What if I told you I’ve been in love with you since I was eleven?”

Requested By: @themistrollsin || Requested For: Pete Dunne Words: 3103 Contains: angst, language warning || this is DEFINITELY going to be a multi-parter. i know it's late for the schedule but hopefully the length makes up for that. things have been pretty hectic with work and the holiday coming up and i'm definitely in love with the idea of where this is going so, keep your eyes peeled for future parts! i have a four day weekend coming up next week so it'll definitely have some headway made.

2005 - Birmingham, England

It had been a year. A young Peter England had been sitting on this feeling of fluttering butterflies that threatened to rip his stomach in two for one year now. You had been his best friend since you were five; seven years of time put in. But, he felt like that was long enough to know. You'd gone from strangers to friends to best friends and Pete was sure the future would only get better for you if you stuck it out but... friendship wasn't enough anymore.

It really started to hit him the prior year. You'd left for the Summer for camp and came home different. Worldly. Matured, to a young mind. The time away had made the difference, though. He'd gone from having you there every day to not having you there, communicating through the rare text and post card. Absence really made the heart grow fonder, and he wanted to make sure that you knew how much you meant to him.

He had a single flower in his hand, the stem clutched to his palm, and the edge of his palm pressed to the small of his back. Today was the day: the day he would do something about those fluttering, jittery feelings.

Today was the day he was ready to admit to the world, admit to himself, and admit to you... that while he couldn't be too certain what love is? He's pretty sure that he's in it with you.

He'd dressed up as best he could. His nicest jeans, and a shirt that wasn't filthy. A few pimples on his face showed the nerves he'd been dealing with while he mulled over his decision for the anxious days he'd spent trying to plan just what to do and how to handle this.

Those plans were torn asunder when he saw young you, sitting on your porch with your face in your palms. You were weeping, and Pete felt his instincts kick in as he approached you and climbed the two stairs to reach you.

"Y/N," He said, a look of hurt in his eyes as you lifted your weary head and your eyes were bloodshot, cheeks stained with tears. "Are you okay? What's wrong?"

"Peter, I-" your lower lip trembled, a mourning sob escaping you before you could finish.

"What? What is it?!"

He asked with a frighteningly cruel look in his eyes. You were important to him - his best friend. One of his only friends. No one could upset you like this and get away with it! You could see this side of him. It was something different. But, your breath caught in your chest, while words failed to find you. Unfortunately, answers didn't fail to find Pete as a few movers exited your home with boxes stacked on top of each other and pressed to their chests.

"Ay, lad. Move outta the way!" The mover said to Pete, prompting the young boy to move. It all made sense now.

"You... you're moving..." He said, piecing things together, his heart racing and panic in his eyes. "Why didn't you tell me!?"

"I didn't know, Peter!" You said, hating the look of hurt in your best friend's face. "My mum just told me that she'd been packing while I was away. Dad got a transfer, and now... we're leaving. I swear, I didn't know."

"So, where are you going?" He asked, biting back a palpable frustration that left him red in the face.

"America." You answered, frightened.

"AMERICA?!" He bellowed. "Why?"

"I told you. My dad was transferred..." You sobbed, brushing at your waterline with your fist, sniffling. "We didn't get a say in the matter. Now, I just... I know I'll never see you, or my mates again and I'll have to learn new customs, and..." you completely lost your train of thought, overwhelmed.

"We'll still see each other." He promised, taking a knee on the stair before you, trying to comfort you. "We'll video chat. And we'll..." He was lost for promises, taking a moment to let the dead air linger. "I don't know, but we'll make something work. You're my best mate, Y/N. And we'll find some way to do something. In fact, you're kind of like..."

He fiddled with the flower in his hand, his fingers trying to feel if the petals were still in one piece. He knew he'd been squeezing the stem with all of his might to resist letting out a guttural howl of agony at the crushing blow he'd been deal with the news. He lost his train of thought when you looked at him with glassy eyes that had a hint of red veins showing on their surface from just how long you'd been sitting on the step.

That devastated him. It made him feel like he failed you. Somewhere, it lurked in the back of his mind he couldn't save you from this fate. But that was a small voice of reason in a sea of screaming.

"You're kind of like... more than my best mate, y'know? You're just... and me? And I-"

Pete was tongue-tied while you looked at him, confusion never more evident than at this moment. He cleared his throat, a small blush taking over his face.

"What I'm trying to say is that... I think that... n-no, I know that I-"

"Y/N!" You could hear your father bellow out. Pete nearly shrieked with frustration, tugging at his short hair.

"Hi daddy." You lowered your head, ashamed that you'd been crying.

"Oh, hello Peter." He turned his attention to the boy, knowing the two of you were best friends. He hadn't suspected a thing. "How are you today?"

"I've... been better, sir," he said, looking down to Y/N. "Is it true you're leaving?"

"Well, yes, lad. The last of the bags have been packed. We're gettin' ready to head to the airport now and then our stuff will be shipped to us post-haste." He said, with a smile on his face.

"Wait, now?!" Peter asked, shock and frustration on his face. "But, what about Y/N's school? Friends? What about all of that?"

"Don't be silly, boyo. The school year's only just begun and it's a new adventure for us all. It's a wonderful opportunity; you'll know all about them when you get older, I'm sure." He smiled, turning his attention to you. "But, Y/N, we need to go. Your mum is already packed and waiting for us at the airport. If we don't leave now, we'll miss our flight."

You sighed. That was kind of something you were hoping for; but, you knew it wouldn't change a thing. Picking yourself up from your spot on the step, you wrapped both arms around the neck of your best friend, the one who would no longer live right down the street from you. The one who would no longer visit you spontaneously. The one who would no longer be there for you as he had been your entire lives. In a quiet, broken voice, you said after a sniffle. "Goodbye, Peter."

He hugged you tightly. Not wanting to let go. Not wanting to accept this goodbye. But your father's hand on your shoulder prompted you to break that hug, as he led you to the car while your attention was turned down to the pavement. As your father entered the car to cart you to the airport, Peter removed the flower from his back pocket. He dreaded the fact he'd not given it to you. Looking at it in frustration and mourning as you turned the corner and left his life for what he could only presume would be forever... he threw it down on the ground, stomping on it hard.

"I'll find you, Y/N. Somehow... some way... some day... I'll find you and tell you everything you didn't get to hear today."

Peter pledged. He had a good idea too for how to make that dream a reality.

Wrestling.

His passion. It was what he aspired to do, waiting until the following year to be able to start training. If he were good enough... he'd get to see the world. He would get to find you.

present day, 2017

As the years passed... you and Peter hadn't made too good on your promise, unfortunately. As you got older, things fizzled out. His training schedule had gotten more intense, and your school work had taken priority. You made new friends. Local friends. Ones easier to be around, out of convenience. You'd grown to care about them a lot, but it didn't mean you didn't ever feel like you were completely home.

No, home for you was England. England in all of his gray overcast skies and dreary weather. All of its hustle and bustle and banter. You'd always been homesick, but never able to do anything about it, until now.

You were an adult now. Your father's decisions no longer bared down on you. You'd earned the money to go home. It was a round-trip visit, because the life you had now was back in the states. But, you'd never stopped being homesick. Twelve years was a long time, though. They felt like they'd flashed in both an instant and the blink of an eye. But, it was on the train that you saw a poster advertising the WWE UK Champion, Pete Dunne. You studied his features while he posed with the title hanging from between his teeth in a burgundy singlet and a faux fur vest. He seemed familiar... too familiar.

You'd been a casual wrestling fan since you were young, thanks to it being almost all that Peter had ever talked about. It seemed practically criminal not to check out an indy show. The UK Scene had exploded and it was always all over the radio, printed publications. Plus... prices were reasonable enough.

And that's when you saw him... and in person, it clicked.

Pete Dunne was Peter England. The boy you grew up with. The boy who not only talked about his dreams but actually made them a reality. A quick check on your phone confirmed it and you had a new, vested in the show you'd gone to on a complete whim. Watching him and leading the cheers in an arena where he was normally booed. Of course you caught his eye more than once. He knew how this worked by now... there was always someone ironic, cheering for the heel. BUT, you did it... almost in an out-of-place way. Off-tempo, all alone, like a sore thumb.

When the match ended, Pete showed his nastier side, attacking his opponent after the match with a brutal series of sledgehammer shots followed by a Pedigree. He hoisted his UK title in the air while his fist rested on his jaw, making the crowd - minus you - boo out loud. When the show ended, a number of fans had gone to meet the talent for pictures. There was only one line you wanted in, though: Pete's.

It felt like forever to get to the front, Pete scowling and snarling with every fan beforehand, indulging in a picture but clearly distant and with anywhere else he'd rather be. When you arrived to the front, you pocketed your hands into your jeans. Pete avoided eye contact with you, beginning to pack up his shirts and photos as if you weren't even there.

"Peter England..." You said, with a smile.

"It's unbecoming to call a wrestler by anything other than their wrestling alias." He said, coldly, while packing his stuff into boxes and crates.

You frowned at his response, and planted your hands onto the cloth-covered table, leaning in. "Pete, don't you recognize me? It's me! Y/N. We grew up together in Birmingham, and-"

"I know who ya' are." He said, stacking a few 8x10's neatly against the table, planting them into the box. "Doesn't change anything, though."

"Pete..." You frowned; even if he didn't seem hurt, you knew him well enough to know his body language and the small signs. "Mate, are you okay? I don't ever seem to recall ya' bein' so cruel and nasty."

"It's mate now? You're not Americanized after over a decade Stateside? I thought for sure I'd be your 'friend' at this point. If that." He locked the box with a padlock to assure no one got into it and stole his merchandise; it was the bread and butter of an indy worker. "It's been a long time, Y/N. People change. Not always for the better."

He lectured you with a coldness and cruelty, pulling the tablecloth you were leaning on and you had face-planted the table.

"What's gotten into you? You were absolutely heartless to that lad out there, you're nasty to me. What's changed so much?"

"You don't get it at all, do you?"

You frowned. It had never been your way to admit shortcomings, failures, or defeat, but he had you cornered. You were in his world now, expecting things to be the same as they were twelve years ago. It couldn't happen. You knew that. It didn't mean you were ready to accept that that was reality, though.

"I'm the fuckin' bad guy. I'm SUPPOSED to be 'absolutely heartless.' The difference is that I do that for a show purpose. YOU do that because it's who you are."

"It's who I am? What the fuck are you talking about?!" You defended yourself, anger booming in your voice, security approaching but backing down at a wave of Pete's hand. "This is the first time I see you in twelve years and this is what you have to say to me?"

"It's not the first time it HAD to be. You grew bored of me after what? Three months? Maybe six? I tried calling you. Those calls went ignored. Emails, letters, all the same. I wanted to wrestle not just because it was my passion, but because I hoped I'd find you. But... I didn't. I couldn't find you, unless you wanted to find me too. Now, I'm living the dream, and you come back into my life without a phone call, without an ounce of any type of effort to show you give a fuck?"

"I don't want your money, if that's what you're implying, Peter!" You scowled right back at him, hurt that he'd even suggest it.

"You don't want my money, Y/N. I know that. You don't want my time. You don't want shit from me. It was fucking clear years ago. Nothing's different now than it was then."

"What has gotten into you? I know we've grown up but you're acting like it was my fault that my dad got transferred to the states. People grow up. They get different hobbies. They build a life for themselves. I never meant to cut you out. The time zone was a huge role in that, and my grades, and my career-"

"All excuses. Those things applied to me too, and I STILL put in the effort. Because you were worth it to me." He emphasized further. "Were."

He began to fold up the table that you'd pulled herself up from, pushing it to the side. Anything to keep his hands busy and himself in check from all of the resentment he had for you. He finally made eye contact with you, for the first time since you arrived and were something other than just a face in the crowd.

"Remember the day you left? We were on your porch."

"Yeah. That was the worst day of my life. I've never been so gutted."

"I was talking to you and your father pulled you to the towncar while the movers towed your stuff out. You drove away from me. Left me on the sidewalk, staring at your car while you left." He looked to the floor, his nose crinkling in anger. I had something to say to you, but I never got to say it. And you... you certainly never made it easy to get it off my chest."

"Oh, you have something to say to me besides all that you've let off your chest now?" You asked, offended, both arms folded under your chest. "Why not just open the ENTIRE can of worms, Peter? You've already made it clear that coming here and seeing you was a waste of time. So why not just tell me what you've been holding onto for so long that's made you such an inconsolable little prick?"

He grinned, turning his focus to you with a cold, dark gaze. "What if I told you I’ve been in love with you since I was eleven?"

"Well I'd... what?" You said, proving you hadn't been listening, but planning your next response and to defend yourself. "What did you just say?"

"I know you heard me. I've spent years pining after you, and hating that I NEVER got to tell you what I wanted to say. And you... you just never cared enough to find out."

"Is this true?" You asked, examining him in shock.

"It was. I was never a priority for you, Y/N. And like I told you. People change."

He pulled his bag up over his shoulder now, and took hold of his trunk of merchandise with his other hand, keeping it in tow behind him.

"Peter... I don't know what to say. I had no idea. But, you know, it... it wouldn't have changed anything. We were just kids. And I had no say in the matter. And things are different now..."

"They are. I'm not some lovesick little fucking twat any longer, and you're not who I wanted you to be. You wasted your time coming here, Y/N. Now, go home."

He pulled his bag behind him, heading for the parking garage area where his car was waiting. You watched the boy who was your best friend leave without so much as a glance back or a goodbye, having answers to questions you never wanted asked or answered. Rubbing at your teary eyes with your sleeve, you followed security on the way out of the building.