#girly pop got an arm on her and doesn’t like to be startled - not the best combo for a cell phone

[hitwiththetmnt]

Someone may need a new phone~

[omgrachwrites]

Tell a Tale of You and Me - Chapter Sixteen

Pairing: Sirius Black x Reader

Summary: You knew that making a bet with Sirius Black was like making a deal with the devil but you just couldn’t help yourself. You had never been a heavenly woman.

Warnings: a little bit of fluff, more angst!

Words: 2257

Disclaimer: This gif doesn’t belong to me!

A/N: There is so much angst in this part but I hope you guys enjoy it! Please let me know what you think and let me know if you would like to be tagged! I love you all! xxx

Chapter Sixteen

It had been a fool proof prank, a safe but fun one and the marauders certainly didn’t imagine that they would get caught. The marauders were given some sort of respect from the other Hogwarts houses – even the Slytherins – everybody knew to just let the marauders get on with their pranks. Everybody knew that it was fruitless to try and stop them.

It had only meant to be a harmless prank, they had been dropping Dungbombs in the Slytherin corridor, and they made sure not to drop them too close to the Slytherin common room, because they didn’t want to start a full house war. They also made sure to keep themselves hidden, or so they thought. James’ invisibility cloak must have slipped off them without them noticing because when the four boys were on their way back to the common room, they were cornered by McGonagall and were frog marched right into detention.

Sirius bitterly thought that it must have been a swotty first year that had seen them and told on them. The thought made him grind his teeth together angrily, he could have been spending time with Y/N, and now he was wasting time by being in detention. James and Peter would be having detention with McGonagall while Sirius and Remus were going to be having detention with Slughorn. Sirius did feel bad for Remus though, he knew that Remus hadn’t wanted to go through with their prank.

Slughorn had them sorting out rotten Flubberworms which made Sirius gag and he forced back the urge to vomit all over the table. He glanced over at Remus who had an intense look of annoyance on his face. Sirius bit into his bottom lip and he knew that he had to say something.

“I’m sorry Remus, I know that you didn’t want to go through with the prank, its cutting into time that you could have been spending time with Morgana,” he sighed, “how are things going between the two of you?”

Remus licked his bottom lip nervously as he wiped his hands on his pants, “well um, she thinks that she’s no good for me which is complete bollocks by the way because she’s amazing. I don’t know why she thinks that she’s no good for me. She,” he hesitated as he bounced his leg nervously, “she tells me that she wants to be with me but she can’t because there are things that I don’t know about her. But, I won’t stop fighting for her, not when I’ve got secrets of my own and her secret can’t be worse than mine,” he nodded, suddenly looking determined.

Sirius smiled serenely, his best friend was the best person he knew and he was certain that Remus deserved the world. He hoped that everything would work itself out soon, “I’m sorry that things aren’t great right now, truly I am. But, you should never stop fighting for the people you care about,” Sirius only wished that he could take his own advice.

Remus grinned thankfully at Sirius and they both got back to work, the heavy awkward silence that had once filled the dungeons quickly evaporated. Sirius held his breath to try and ward off the rotten stench of the Flobberworms and after what felt like a hundred years, Slughorn finally let the two boys go.

As Remus and Sirius walked back to the common room, they chatted and chuckled about what the Quidditch team would be like the following year. They both knew that there was no way it would be as good as it was this year. Remus trailed off as they both noticed that Regulus was walking towards them, the short curls on his head bounced as he strode over to them with purpose.

“I need to talk with you brother,” his eyes flashed with anger and for one startling moment, Regulus looked so much like their mother.

Remus warily looked at Sirius with his hazel eyes wide, “I’ll meet you back at the common room.”

Sirius nodded and as Remus walked away, he turned to look at his little brother, “what do you want to talk about Reg?” Sirius asked as he casually slouched against the stone wall, narrowing his eyes.

“I presume that Y/N has told you the news has she?”

Sirius’ eyes quickly flashed with hurt before he adopted a teasing smirk, “yes, I know all about Y/N having to marry you. Poor Y/N,” joking about it made Sirius feel a lot better.

Regulus sighed in frustration as he raked a hand through his curls, “you need to stop it Sirius, as my brother, you just need to stop. I know that you have feelings for Y/N,” when Sirius scoffed, Regulus continued, “I see the way you look at her when you think that no one else can see you. You look at her like she’s all you’ve ever wanted.”

For once, Sirius just listened to his brother, Regulus was in fact telling the truth about how Sirius felt but Regulus could never know that, “I don’t have feelings for Y/N,” Sirius lied, “but even if I did, what does it matter to you? You’re in an arranged marriage with her Reg; it’s hardly the most romantic thing in the world.”

“It’s not just an arranged marriage to me, I have feelings for her. Real feelings.”

“Reg,” Sirius breathed, his brother’s words knocked the wind out of him and he fought hard to keep his composure. Suddenly, Regulus’ eyes filled up with tears and Sirus was immediately reminded of a little boy who would crawl into his older brother’s bed when he had had a nightmare. Sirius wanted to hug his brother tightly but he knew that it would give him away. All Sirius could do was regard him warily.

“Look, Sirius, you can get any damned girl that you want. Why does it have to be the girl I love?” Please, just let me love her and let her love me.”

This time Sirius couldn’t stop the tears so he had to look away from his brother, “you love Y/N, do you?” he fought to keep the tears out of his voice.

“Yes I do. Please let her be, I’m begging you.”

Sirius shook his head, “you don’t have to worry about me Reg.”

“I hope not,” he sighed, “I just wanted you to know how I felt,” Sirius felt a gentle hand on his shoulder and he heard footsteps retreating.

When he heard his brother’s footsteps fade he finally let the hot tears escape his eyes and slip down his cheeks. He quickly slapped a hand over his mouth the muffle his sobs as he sank to the floor, shaking as sobs wracked his body, he never wanted it to hurt this much. He was at a crossroads; he was always supposed to look out for his baby brother. Though, how could he when Regulus got to live out the rest of his days with Y/N? Sirius spent a lot of time weighing up the pros and cons of his decision and by the time he returned to the common room he knew what he was going to do.

As the portrait hole swung open, Y/N looked up from where she was doing homework with Lily. She smiled beautifully, though it faltered slightly when she looked at him and Sirius could only imagine how he must have looked. It must have been obvious that he’d been crying.

Y/N pulled him into a hug, kissing his cheek as she did so before whispering into his ear, “is everything alright beautiful?”

Sirius wanted to tell her everything but he knew that it wasn’t fair on her so he settled for a lie, he pulled away from her and smiled, “I’m fine.”

Y/N nodded though she didn’t look convinced as she pulled him over to sit with their friends. As Sirius sat down next to Remus, Remus smiled at him sympathetically and offered him a piece of chocolate. Sirius chuckled lightly – chocolate was Remus’ solution to everything – and he smiled gratefully as he popped the chocolate into his mouth.

“So,” James started as he threw an arm around Lily’s shoulders, “what are the plans for the next Hogsmeade trip?”

Lily laughed, “well, I don’t know what you guys are doing but we’re having a girly day,” she threw Y/N a meaningful look, “Morgana is welcome too Remus, we want to get to know her better.”

“Thanks Lily, I’ll mention it to her. I’m sure that she’ll appreciate it,” Remus smiled and Sirius glanced over at Y/N.

She was smiling at Lily but the smile didn’t reach her eyes and they weren’t sparkling like they usually did. It was obvious that she was feeling less than enthusiastic about the girly day. He wanted to hold her hand and tell her that everything was going to be okay.

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

The ivory silk flowed down your body like rippling water, it was so soft and it made you feel like a princess, it made you feel so beautiful. You turned to the side and looked back at your reflection in the mirror, the train was about an inch long and the wedding veil fell to your feet. The only things that you weren’t crazy about were the colour and it had some bone button fastenings in the back, you’d prefer a corseted bodice.

“Are you ready Y/N?” you heard Alice call from the other side of the curtain.

You nodded and then realised that your friends couldn’t see you, “I’m coming out now,” you took a deep shaky breath as you stood down from the step and quickly opened up the curtain. As you stood in front of your friends, Lily gasped as she teared up and sobbed into the tissues she’d brought with her, she had told you that she was going to cry. Alice rubbed Lily’s back as she beamed brightly at you.

It was only Morgana who said anything, she’d been a great help through all this wedding dress shopping, “you look beautiful Y/N, that dress looks like it was made for you,” she smiled.

“Thank you Morgana, I shouldn’t say this too soon but I think that this is the one. It only needs a few minor adjustments,” you giggled as you performed a little twirl for your friends. Lily sniffled as she gave you a tight hug, you laughed as you hugged her back.

When she pulled away, you glanced out of the window and you saw Sirius walking with the rest of the marauders. He too glanced up from outside and he froze in place, his mouth dropping open slightly as he looked you up and down. You smiled and gave him a shy little wave, but instead of waving back he guiltily shifted his gaze back to his friends and they carried on walking up the high street.

Lily who had been watching this whole exchange merely sighed, “come on, why don’t you get changed? Then we can go to The Three Broomsticks.”

The weather was finally getting a little bit warmer so you could sit outside, the warm Butterbeer warming your insides as the buds on the cherry blossom tree overhead grew. Sirius had been acting funny – you were pretty used to it by now – he wouldn’t look at you for more than a couple of seconds. He also kept on shifting his gaze like he was guilty and hiding something. What was so bad that he couldn’t tell you? He knew that you were always going to be there for him, no matter what it cost you. It had been his round and he hadn’t come out of the pub for a little while and you were kind of worried so you wanted to check on him.

“I’m going to see if Sirius needs help with the drinks,” you smiled casually as you began to rise from your seat and your friends smiled at you. James’ smile looked the most forced by far. You walked inside the warm pub, it wasn’t bustling as it usually was and you could see Sirius standing at the bar with the full round of drinks, “come on now, you don’t want the Butterbeer to get cold do you?” you joked.

Sirius glanced up at you, his lips twitching into a small smile, “I’m sorry,” he looked back down at the tray of drinks.

“Hey, I was joking. Butterbeer is nice hot or cold!” you smiled as you placed a hand on his shoulder.

Sirius sighed as he closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, “I’m not talking about the drinks. You looked so beautiful in that wedding dress and I’m sorry,” he mumbled as he picked up the tray and began to walk away.

“What are you sorry for Sirius? What do you possibly have to be sorry about?” you followed him, nervously squeezing between two vampires.

Sirius whirled around to stare at you and you marvelled at how he managed not to slosh the drinks, it looked like he was going to give you a proper answer. Though, he only shrugged and gave you one of his usual dazzling smiles, “never mind sweetheart. It’s not important.”

Though you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong, it was like when he had come back to the common room about three weeks ago and he had red around his eyes, it looked like he’d been crying. What was he enduring and why couldn’t he tell you about it?

----------------------------------- 

@approved-by-dentists​ @thefuturelawyer​ @a-miserable-hufflepunk​ @firelordmillie​ @seriouslysiriuss​ @sleep-i-ness​ @play-morezeppelin​ @pregnant-piggy​ @sleepingalaska​ @smiithys​ @blisfvll​ @rexorangecouny​ @findzelda​ @wangmangagavroche​ @the-moon-and-the-book​ @hxrgreeves​ @ghostofstudentspast​ @they-write-once-in-a-blue-moon​ @my-unique-mind​ @im-an-angel-of-the-lord-you-ass​ @acciovisio​ @obsessedwithrandomthings​ @kashishwrites​ @fific7​ @blackbirddaredevil23​ @siriusblackspam​ @mads-bri​ @lilulo-12fanfiction​ @mrspadfoot4​ @tinymalscoffee​

[theewritingroomm]

A Winchester - 8

Pairing: Liam Dunbar x Winchester!Reader (Teen Wolf x Supernatural Crossover) Word Count: 1,222 Warning: over protective brothers, A/N: Please tell me what y’all think, I live for feed back, and it’s what will get you the next part. 

Sam and Dean had decided to stay in town for another week, knowing that Y/N would want to stay and make sure Liam was doing okay before she left. Though the more Dean thought about what Lydia had said that day the more he thought about staying in town. He'd talked it over with Sam, who also thought it was a good idea; all they had to do now was run it by Y/N.

"Are you afraid she won't be okay with it?" Sam asked his brother, as the two finished packing up their motel room.

Dean shook his head. "No, I'm just worried that there's more to this town than we might think."

"Which is another reason we should stay here. Besides, we're doing this..."

Sam was cut off when the motel door opened, revealing Y/N with a startled expression. Upon seeing their little sister, the brothers froze, waiting for her to speak. But it became obvious that she wasn't going to talk as she walked into the motel room and sat on the edge of one of the beds.

"Y/N, what's wrong?" Dean asked, kneeling in front of his sister.

"He asked me out." She mumbled. Dean didn't have to ask who she was talking about, but by the look on her face he knew he should be asking some questions.

"And is that a bad thing?" He asked.

Y/N shook her head.

"Then why do you look like you're about to throw up?"

Y/N let out a breathy laugh, her brother's words calming her down slightly. "Because, we're going to be leaving again soon and I don't want to hurt him."

Dean looked over to Sam, who simply raised his eyebrows. It was then that Dean knew he was going to have to tell her what he and Sam were thinking.

"What if I told you that you could go on that date, and many more."

Y/N looked up at him, confusion written across her face. She didn't know what he meant by that, or how it was even going to be possible when they were leaving in the next day or two. But before she got the chance to ask Dean what he meant, Sam began to explain.

"What he's trying, and failing, to say is; what would you think about staying."

"For how long?"

The brothers looked at each other before speaking in unison, "For a while."

Y/N looked at Sam and Dean, shock evident on her face. She didn't know what to say or if she could say anything that would show them how much this actually means to her. So instead of struggling to find the words to say, Y/N practically launched herself at her brothers pulling them into a bone crushing hug.

Y/N couldn't remember the last time she had worn a skirt; but here she was, in lying on Lydia's bed while the strawberry blonde sifted through her closet. It made Y/N nervous, knowing that Liam hadn't seen her in anything other than her thrift store shirts and ratty converse shoes.

"So when's the date again?" Lydia asked while pulling multiple outfits from her closet.

"Saturday at seven. But we're just going to see a movie. I don't know why you're making me wear a skirt."

Lydia turned to face the younger girl, not trying to hide it as she rolled her eyes. "Because, while he may already be drooling over you it doesn't hurt to show him what he's working for."

Y/N knew that it probably made sense the Lydia so she didn't argue, instead Y/N let Lydia dress her up. Hours and close to a hundred outfits later, Y/N was starting to lose hope in Lydia ever finding something for her to wear.

"Wait a minute." Lydia mumbled to herself, making Y/N look up at her and watched as she began to mix and match different articles of clothing. Once she was done there was an outfit laid out that Y/N never thought she would've picked out for herself. Lydia held out a light purple dress that seemed to flow from the waist, where a thin black belt sat, and next to it all was a newer pair of plain black converse. It was simple and not too girly; it was something she could easily see herself wearing.

"Now, text me a couple of hours before you have to leave, and I'll come help with your hair and makeup."

Y/N nodded, showing that she would do as told. Once Y/N was sure that Lydia knew she was going to comply with her wishes, the younger began to leave. Though before she walked out of the room Y/N looked over her shoulder to say one last thing to Lydia.

"Thank you Lydia. It really means a lot that you'd do this for me."

"What do you think friends are for?" Came Lydia's reply, accompanied by a small smile.

Liam stood in front of Y/N's apartment door, trying to work up the courage to knock on the door. But the longer he stared at the brass number in front of his face the more his hands shook.

"Are you serious?" He mumbled to himself, running a hand over his face. "You're a freakin' werewolf Liam, and you can't knock on a damn door." He was going to continue scolding himself when the door flew open, startling the young beta.

"Are you going to stand there all night or are you gonna come in?" Dean questioned, leaning against the door frame.

Liam stumbled over his words before simply nodding. He knew he wasn't making the best first impression, especially in front of two hunters; but there wasn't much he could do as he followed Dean into the apartment.

Once the two of them had made it to the living room Liam quickly glanced around, hoping that her brothers weren't going to launch into the 'you hurt her we kill you' speech. But Liam quickly found out that luck wasn't on his side as Sam and Dean pointed him towards an arm chair facing the couch.

"So Liam, you know we own guns right? Like a lot of guns" Dean asked, making both Sam and Liam raise their eyebrows.

Liam hesitated for a second before finally finding his voice. "Yes, I do."

"And I won't hesitate to shoot you if you ever...." Dean stared, but was quickly interrupted by Y/N's voice.

"Did you have to threaten his life Dean?" She questioned, making all three guys turn towards her.

When Liam saw her his jaw nearly hit the floor. Her dress hit a couple of inches above her knees, showing off her legs and the belt around her waist drew attention to her curves.  Her makeup was light but still made her eyes pop. Liam thought she looked breathtakingly beautiful, and he was pretty sure everyone could tell that he thought so.

"Is this okay?" Y/N finally asked, hoping to break Liam's silence.

"Um... yeah." Liam finally breathed out. "You look... wow."

"Okay you two." Sam spoke up, ruining the moment. "Go before Dean has to threaten him again."

They both nodded before Y/N shuffled towards Liam, pulling him from the arm chair and towards the door. But before they could get out the door Dean called out to Liam.

"Remember boy, I will shoot you."

Y/N simply rolled her eyes, grabbed Liam's hand and pulled him out of their apartment.

[chaoticgremlinwholikescheese]

A/N: here’s chapter four of my newsies fic! Enjoy :)

CHAPTER 4

JACK’S POV:

It’s become a tradition to go get a soda and sit on that corner after working at the theatre. We always walk over together, hand in hand. Sometimes I pay, sometimes Alex pays. We sit and talk until the sun starts to set and Alex has to head home. I’ve offered to walk her, but she says she’ll be fine on the bus. Weeks pass, the same date every time. We haven’t even kissed yet, and honestly I don’t mind.

Usually I’m the type of guy who moves fast, and I’m not ashamed of it. But with Alex, I want to take it slow. I enjoy her company, just being by her side. I don’t feel like I have to put on a facade, act all tough, turn on the charm. With her I’m just plain old Jack. And surprisingly, she doesn’t seem to mind.

“Jack!” I’m startled from my thoughts by Alex yelling for me from the costume room. “Coming,” I shout back. I walk over and see her jumping to reach a box on a high shelf. “I can’t reach it. Can you get it?” she asks. “Sure thing, Al.” I reach up and grab it, pulling it down and handing it to her. “Al? I thought I told you to stop calling me that.” she says with a smirk. “Aw, you know you like it. Trust me, it’ll grow on you.” 

“Oh, while you’re here, I wanted to ask. My mom was hoping you could come over for dinner tonight, she’s making soup.” Oh. Oh no. She wants me to meet her parents. That’s not ideal. Parents don’t like me. Ever. At all. As if she can read my mind, she says “They’re not mean. They won’t throw you out a window or poison your food or anything, I promise.” she chuckles.

I take a deep breath. I really like Alex, and that means taking a risk and meeting her parents. “I’d love to come.”

**************

The bus pulls up, the metal screeching as it stops. Alex and I pop our coins into the slot and climb on, squishing in between people. The bus is overcrowded, with people in every available space. People chatter, the noise almost too loud. The doors close and the bus starts to move with a jerky motion, causing Alex to fall into me. I catch her and lightly push her back up, holding her arms while she gets her balance.

“Sorry.” she chuckles, dusting herself off. “Heh. Don’t worry about it.” The bus bumps as it goes over the cobblestone road, making everyone inside jerk about like rag dolls. “How do you do this every day without getting sick?” I mutter. Alex shrugs, saying that she’s just used to it. 

After a few more minutes, we get off among the flood of people entering. “This way.” Alex leads me down a quiet street, the lamp lights flickering in the dark. As we get farther into her neighborhood, it starts to get seedier and seedier. We pass multiple bars, drunk people sitting against the building, bottles in hand. 

“Hey! Girlie! How much for a kiss?” one of the men calls out. “Piss off, Eric. Go home, your wife will be looking for ya.” Alex shouts back. “You know that guy?” I ask. She nods. “He lives in the same tenement as us, two floors below. Well, his wife lives there. He’s pretty much always at the bar.”

Eventually we get to her tenement, a large brick building with windows every couple feet. Lines of washing hang out of some of them, pots and pans sit on the sills of others. I can hear people yelling from inside the building, children crying. “We’re right up here. C’mon, this way’s faster.” she jumps and pulls down a rusty fire escape ladder. It slams into the ground with a bang, the whole escape shaking.

She begins her climb and I follow behind her. We reach a window and she pushes it open, climbing through. It drops us out into a small room. An oven sits against one wall, a furnace pushed up against it. A sink full of dishes is across from it, a wooden cabinet above it. Some drawings and photos are framed on the walls. 

“Mama! We’re home!” Alex calls out. A short woman comes out of one of the rooms, an apron tied around her waist. “Alex! And you must be Jack. I’m Rachel.” she has a warm smile, the crows feet on the edges of her eyes crinkling as she grins. Her graying hair is tied back in a loose bun, her hair frizzing out behind her. She has a faint accent but from where I can’t quite tell.

I stick out my hand for her to shake, but she wraps me in a hug instead. I tense up in surprise, but hug her back. She pulls away, going over to kiss Alex’s cheek. “Come, come, sit. The soup is almost ready.” I take a seat at the wooden table, nervously bouncing my knee beneath it. Alex sits next to me, giving me a comforting smile. “They don’t bite, I promise.” she whispers. 

“David! Komm essen, mach eine. Pause von deiner Arbeit!” Rachel calls out. “I’m coming, I’m coming!” a male voice shouts back. A stout man enters the room, a brown vest covering his shirt. His lower face is covered with a bushy gray beard, a pair of wire glasses perched on the edge of his nose.

He takes a seat across from me, pulling his chair in. “You must be Jack.” his accent is thick, decidedly german. “Yes. Nice to meet you.” I stick out my hand and he shakes it. His palm is rough and calloused. 

Rachel brings over some steaming bowls of soup, placing them in front of us. She gives us spoons and napkins before taking a seat next to David. “How was work, Alex?” she asks. “Good. I finally finished the stitching on that shirt I told you about. I used the stitching you taught me.” Alex says proudly. 

“Alex tells us that you paint the sets,” David continues. “Yeah, I try to do it after I finish selling all my papes.” I explain. “Ah, you’re one of the newsboys! I used to do that when I first got here from Germany, it was a good way to make money. It’s actually how I met Rachel.” He smiles at his wife, softly squeezing her hand.

“He was delivering on my corner, and I accidentally bumped into him on my rush to get to the factory. Knocked him flat on his tuchus.” she chuckles. “ I hear this story all the time.” Alex says quietly, smirking. “Oh, but it’s so romantic! We met by accident, quite literally,” Rachel adds. 

As I sit here with Alex and her parents, I feel a strange sense of comfort. I don’t feel nervous. I feel like me. I laugh with them, trade stories. The conversation flows easily, without awkward pauses or stops. I don’t know why I was so worried about meeting them.

[fanworldbuildingfun]

Lessons Learned - Rumors from the Cantina (”Nar Shaddaa High Tea”)

The ice cubes clanked loudly in the glass as Altha slammed it on the table, caring little if she damaged either. It was shuffled to the side to join its empty brethren as the smuggler motioned for the server droid to bring her another glass of Corellian whiskey. A not-so subtle snort from her companion made the female cathar’s head snap up to glare at him. The man, though, seemed completely unimpressed with Altha’s attempt at intimidation

“Girlie,”  - the nikto male stretched back in his seat, placing his arms behind his head -  “keep practicing and one day you –might– be scary. Not anytime soon, but one day. You going to finish that one?” his head titled in the direction of the new drink en route to the table

Altha pointedly ignored the query, and snatched the whiskey the moment server droid was within the reach, downing it in one go. Immediately after, she bent over gagging as an ice cube made its way down her throat with the rest of the alcohol. It took a few moments of heaving and hecking before the cathar managed to straighten herself – all to visible amusement of the nicto

“Either you shut up, Madras, or I know where I am getting leather for my next pair of boots” no one outside of the feline race would have hoped to achieve the rumbling hissing in which the words were uttered

“And here I thought I should be a good friend and point out you don’t exactly have the creds to slush on booze –“

“Barely acquaintances, and I kriffin know it!” Altha slumped into her seat “You don’t need to remind me”

The previous bluster was all but gone. Almost as an afterthought, she placed the glass – the one she managed to hold onto by some stroke of luck – with the rest of. A scaly, green hand appeared in her line of vision, dropping a small stack of paper napkins before her

“Then clean up and pay attention this time” the mildly-teasing tone Madras spoke in vanished – and so did the carefree look in his eyes

“You aren’t a bad captain, Altha, but neither are you so good I can’t find someone else to go on a run with – “ the man paused, mulling over what he was going to say  “ - and I’m not missing out on this one just because of your prissy mood, kid. I’ve done jobs for these guys before, got my payment, a place to lay low, all at the small cost of timely delivery and sealed lips. Which is more than I can say of you”

The worst part was, Altha couldn’t even say anything to that – the last cargo she carted almost cost her her ship, and all she got for her run were a measly few thousand creds. That barely covered the repairs – and the asshole whom she delivered the goods to knew it. She could still remember that tiny smirk on his face. Oh how she wanted to wipe it off with her claws… Or maybe she did. That would explain the tail she had to drop… A snap of fingers in front her face startled her out of finishing that thought

“Oi, I thought I told you to pay attention” the nicto drew back from where he leaned over the table “Run, money, a spot to park while those Exchange assholes are up and riled, that ring any bells?”

“Keep your head in this, kid. Or I –will- take my offer elsewhere”

“Yeah, yeah – so you keep saying. Going to spit it out already? Ain’t like you to dance around like that – must have been quite something to get you all cagey in a middle of a packed cantina” which, on Nar Shaddaa, was as close as you could get to privacy – there were just too many people to keep track of

“It keeps me coming back. That should tell you something” the man harrumped before going on “Look, the guys are cagey, but they did good by me so far. Ain’t like they are asking for anything terribly under the table – I have zero idea why they would go to freelancers to do the job, but I am not complaining. But this one’s bigger than normal. I need a hand here”

“And so you thought, “My, that stellar gal Altha is just the one I would share the good job with?” the cathar snorted “Because if so, I call your bull”

“Actually, I thought of your big ship” the smile that appeared on Madras’s face was just this side of sleazy “Now, your personality is an unfortunate side effect - ” he barely blinked as a half melted ice cube hit him in the chest “ – but I’m ready to sacrifice my standards for company. Just this once. My ship doesn’t fit that much people…”

The nicto was interrupted by the sudden near shriek of “People?!” that caused a few nearby patrons to turn their attention to their table. Putting on his best sappy look Madras leisurely raised his hand – to drop it right on the top of the fuming female’s head, giving it a bit of scratch. It served both in freezing Altha in her rant, and causing those staring at them to look away, some rolling their (multiple) eyes in exasperation over the perceived couple’s antics.

“What the kriff you you mean my people?!” Altha’s words were just as furious, but much more quiet this time “Because I am not dealing with slavers, Madras, and you better explain why the heck you would ask me….”

“And I just told you they aren’t asking for stuff like that” the nicto retained his sappy look, but his tone was quickly moving into “annoyed” territory “We aren’t talking slaves, kid. This is a transport run – we are picking up refuges, or settlers – whichever, I didn’t bother asking – and getting them from point A to point B. Now will you stop spitting at me?!”

The cathar’s ears pressed to her skull, shutting up her oncoming tirade – though she kept glaring up at the nicto. A moment later she shrugged his hand off her head with a huff “Start with this one, next time. What’s the price?” And was it worth the hassle of dealing with having who knows whom on her ship?

“Three thousand up front. Rest depends on the amount of pick-ups we need to make. We split half and half in both cases” satisfied the cathar wasn’t going to blow up again, Madras made himself comfortable again – and away from the explosion radius of the temperamental female

“Uh-huh. Looks to me you are getting the better cut out of it, if you intend to lump most of them up on me” even half of three thousand was a… Loath she to admit, a good offer – three grand were a cost of a shiny new speeder

“And if it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t be seeing even those” Madras spent far too long in the smuggling business to fall into a trap like that “Plus, you’ll need me to deliver them. Our guys aren’t exactly the most open – the place is full of nav scrambling tech like you won’t believe. Had to be towed at least part of the way there – no way you are finding the place yourself”

On one hand, a job for paranoid lunatics who may or may not deal in slaves. Artha wasn’t going to just take Madras’s word on that (though it helped). On another, the pay was… Acceptable, and the big guy said it wasn’t his first rodeo for this folk. And the nicto didn’t have the rep of maverick to work just for anyone. Heck, it couldn’t be worse than her last run

“Fine. Deal. You sharing the coordinates now or later?”

The grin on the man’s face could rival that of a loth cat who finally got his prey “Later, kid. Isn’t exactly the place to do it, cantina. Once we are off planet. I’ll holo you”

Pushing his chair back, the nicto got up and stretched. Altha winced as she heard a few bones pop (even the noise of cantina was not enough to cover the sound up), but Madras didn’t seem to care. Lizards

“Oh, and kid?” the man’s face twisted into expression of unholy amusement “Hard as that seems, try to be on your best behavior. Think at least a few of our folk are Imps” with that statement, the nicto walked into the crowd with a noticeable spring to his step

Leaving the female staring at the small mountain of glasses she racked up

Imperials. She just had to jinx herself, didn’t she?

[fleckcmscott]

Watch What Happens - Chapter 14

Chapter links: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13

Summary: Arthur, an aspiring comedian, has struggled to find normalcy and compassion his entire life. Y/N, a hard-working paralegal and transplant to Gotham, has just been put on a case for the Wayne Foundation. When they meet, unexpected sparks fly.

Chapter warning: Swearing

Words: 2,673

After breakfast and some passionate necking in the doorway, Arthur had left. As he’d disappeared into the elevator, he gave a playful but modest wave and smiled. Coincidentally, the next door neighbor had popped out to get her paper. When Y/N had greeted her, the woman had kept her eyes averted, muttered a quick, "Morning," then hurriedly went back inside.

At first Y/N had found it odd, but then it’d dawned on her. Maybe she needed to learn to keep her voice down.

Chuckling, she’d gone back into the apartment and the bedroom, considering changing the sheets. But, blushing happily, she’d left them alone. He would be over again that night; she’d been sure they'd wind up between them. Then she’d checked the sofa. She hated trying to launder upholstery and wasn't particularly good at it. Luckily, she hadn't seen anything that would have given away their activities - her robe had been in the way.

From the moment he was gone, she knew she was head over heels. Her eighty-seven percent certainty had increased to ninety-six over the course of their morning. He hadn't said much after they'd gotten up, but his actions touched her. After a little prompting, he'd poured coffee for them, then asked how she liked hers. He'd made it with one sugar and a shot of milk. (Seemingly nervous that he'd make it too white, he'd kept asking, "Is that enough?") Then he'd hovered next to her while she cooked. It'd already felt like he belonged there.

The speed with which the comfort of routine had developed between them was startling. In her past relationships, she'd taken things slowly. Jeff, her ex-husband, was someone she'd met as a sophomore in high school. He'd been a college freshman, studying pre-law. It had taken five months before they started dating. He was a good man - they exchanged Christmas cards every year, letting each other know they were  still alive. But they'd gotten married only a month after she'd graduated, before she’d had a chance to develop her own identity.

Y/N decided the biggest distinction between then and the present was that she'd grown-up. Taking care of her father had forced her to mature quickly. She hadn't had time for other people's bullshit and had to figure out how to clearly say yes and no, something she'd struggled with until her late-twenties. She'd had to learn what she did and did not want.

Arthur, even the Arthur who'd been trembling and biting his nails on the couch with his Gotham Department of Health notebook, was what she wanted. It was surprisingly easy to like and love him, not only because he was handsome, kind, and most of what she’d experienced of him had been great. But also because she now knew herself.

Picturing him, while sitting at her desk and trying to work, made the corners of her lips turn up. Nervous excitement and plain happiness caused her to laugh quietly. She felt foolish. She hadn’t giggled like that since she’d been a teenager, lip-syncing badly to the radio with her sister.

She truly was trying to act professionally that morning. But at their usual mid-week meeting with Matt, Patricia passed her a note with the words, “You can’t stop smiling!” written on it. Y/N gave it back, feeling like a girl trying not to get caught by the teacher, with a heart, followed by two questions marks and an exclamation point.

Once the meeting ended, Patricia arched a brow at her. Y/N put her palm to her face, groaning. The note had been terribly out of character. “I just wanted to know what it was like to be girly. Once.” Her embarrassment had quickly faded, though, and she said, “I promise I’ll tell you everything tonight.”

The rest of work went by uneventfully, with her back to preparing the firm's family cases. They were a gallery of dysfunction. There had been a rise in children being taken from their parents due to substance abuse disorder after budget cuts had stopped their treatment. And there was a stack of protection from abuse orders, including pictures of bruises and other injuries. The occasional petty divorce filings were a nice break. She would sometimes reread the best complaints when she needed a chuckle. Though the work wasn’t difficult, by early afternoon she was exhausted and trying not to nod off at her desk.

She left early, then, and made her way to the Gotham Bureau of Corporations to try to find more information on Renew Corp. It turned out it had been registered as a limited liability corporation. As a result, their annual reports and registered agents were openly available. The photocopies she made cost her $2.35 at five cents a page. Sitting on the floor at her coffee table, she reviewed the reports. Most of them were about profits and projects, which didn't interest her. She already knew the addresses they were after. The list of registered agents intrigued her, though. She'd have to go over her plan with Patricia.

But first she had to figure out how to explain what she thought was happening in a way that didn't make her sound crazy. Who would believe that Gotham's largest philanthropic organization was responsible for a third-party harassing poor people instead of helping them? She'd find it hard to believe herself if she hadn't taken a closer look. But she was at a loss as to what other conclusion could be drawn.

~~~~~

When Y/N told Patricia her general theory, she'd been skeptical. But once the shoe boxes of letters tenants were getting were pulled out, Patricia's eyes widened. "You coming over here with the file was a risk," Y/N told her, putting the folder on the table. "It means a lot. I don't want you to do anything else that could get you in trouble."

Patricia shook her head. "I've been there forever. Matt won't ask questions. The only reason you got caught was your big mouth and bad luck."

Taking out a plate for the scones she’d picked up, Y/N smirked in response.

Patricia grabbed one of the pastries and took a bite. "Before we start work, I need to know what on earth is going on with you and this guy you're dating." Despite the exasperation in her voice, she looked amused. "You're glowing."

After putting on the kettle, Y/N boosted herself up on the counter next to the stove. She crossed her ankles. "His name's Arthur Fleck. He's a performer - he's sometimes a clown at the children's hospital. He’s an aspiring stand-up. I think he's a little older than me. Early to mid-forties?"

"This is the-" Patricia made air quotes "'-good looking pie guy,' right?" she asked. "How did you meet?"

Grinning, Y/N went into how they'd kept meeting serendipitously. That he was gentle with her, something she hadn't experienced much in her life. (Given her assertive personality, most people appeared to think she never wanted or needed it.) She flushed at the memories. "I think he's the last gentleman in Gotham. He holds the door open for me. He helps me with my coat." She wished he was there, right now, with his arm slung about her waist, hearing all the compliments she was giving him.

"We talk on the phone every night," Y/N continued, "and I look forward to those few minutes the whole day. He tells me jokes. Even when they're terrible, I love them." Shaking her head, she said, "He sometimes misunderstands what I say and doesn't know how to respond.” Her eyes fluttered shut as she breathed the rest. “He seems a little left footed with the world. But I’ve fallen in love with him, anyways."

It took a few seconds before Patricia spoke. "Already?"

Y/N folded her arms over her chest. "How long did it take before you knew you loved Robert?"

"I knew Robert and I were going to get married after our first date thirty years ago." Patricia stood and stretched her arms. "But sometimes I regret accepting his second invitation."

That prompted a snort from Y/N. "On our second date, I got wine-drunk and had a mini-breakdown on the sofa. Arthur didn't try to take advantage or leave. He just listened and tried to make me feel better."

The tea kettle started whistling, interrupting her train of thought. She hopped off the counter and started filling their cups. "I think the biggest thing we have in common is taking care of ailing parents - he cares for his mother." After sitting at the table, she dunked the teabag a few times. "It's rare to find someone who understands how hard that can be." A smile appeared on her face. "He gets it. He gets me. And I think I get him."

"Tell me three negative things about him," Patricia said.

Y/N cocked her head. "He smokes like a chimney - I don't know how he hasn't gotten cancer already. He's too unsure of himself." She scrunched up her face, remembering how he'd told her to leave after his mother had wounded him. "And he's too self-reliant. He thinks I don't notice, but I do."

Before asking her next question, Patricia took a long sip. "Have you slept with him?"

"Last night,” Y/N answered without hesitation. “This morning," She smirked. "I’m bone-tired, but hopefully tonight."

Patricia stared at her, then burst out laughing. "Jesus, Y/N."

Y/N cracked-up at her reaction, playfully smacking her arm. "Hey, I'm turning forty in April. If I see something I want, I'm going to grab it." She pointed at Patricia to emphasize what she said next. "And I can tell you, in his own words, he did not mind."

"Does he know how you feel?"

Y/N put down her teacup. "It's hard for me to open myself up. I'd shut that off for so long.” A sigh left her as she leaned back against the chair. “I know it doesn't make sense, but going to bed with him is easier than saying anything."

"He sounds like a decent man," Patricia said. "There aren't many in Gotham."

"There aren't many anywhere." After some silence, Y/N furrowed her brow. "He’s wonderful. But I can tell he has difficulties. Or at least he has in the past."

Patricia's eyebrows knit together. "Legal trouble?"

"No, nothing like that." Y/N adjusted her legs. How much information could she share without crossing a line? Maybe disclosing his affliction would be all right - he did have laminated cards he handed out. "He has a neurological condition that makes him laugh. It doesn't happen often, but I've seen it when he's nervous. It's been hard for him." She studied her tea, thinking of his notebook and all his medication.

And she felt shame, remembering how she'd shut him down like a coward when it'd seemed he was going to tell her everything.

"Do you want me to do a background check on him?" Patricia spoke quietly, her concern obvious.

Y/N waved the idea away. "No. There’s no reason.” Then she blushed. “I don’t even know why I told you. But," she smiled, "I appreciate you caring enough to ask." Pointing at the nearby folder, she said, “Now let’s get this over with so I can call him.”

They started on the file, then, sorting through the motions, writing down the day each one was filed with the court. Opening all the letters was a pain in the ass - Y/N was relieved she only got a couple of paper cuts. The dates on those were analyzed, too, and put onto a parallel list next to those of the filings. When they were finished, an hour or so later, they were able to confirm the motions and letters had started during the same time period.

Patricia sipped her tea, shrugging. "It could be a coincidence."

"Of course it could. That's why I got the list of registered agents with Renew Corp." Y/N got up and grabbed the reports she'd copied from the counter next to the stove. "I'm supposed to have the Wayne Foundation tax returns on Friday. I'll see if Renew Corp. is listed anywhere on there."

"Actually, I have a better idea." Patricia crossed her legs and indicated the reports with her pen. "The tax filings will have all the Wayne Foundation employees listed on one of the schedules. You can see if any of the names match the agents on the Renew reports."

Y/N leaned back against the counter. "I can't believe I didn't think of that." Frowning, she mentally went over the dates they’d written. “Did I see that a new motion was filed on Monday? Do you have it?”

“Yeah, we got our copy today. Why?” Patricia dug through the file until finding it, then handed it to her.

“When I looked through the file, nothing indicated a new motion was needed.” She started to scan it. It was a motion to amend the original filing, which meant addresses could either be added or taken off. This one added a few in order to, according to the summary, allow the building of an additional medical clinic wing. She didn’t recognize most of them: a residential building on Cortelyou Road, an empty lot on Sutter Avenue, a commercial area on Rockaway Boulevard. An apartment complex at 225a Anderson Avenue.

Her breath halted. 225a Anderson Avenue.

It made sense. Despite the heaviness forming in her stomach, and her inability to take in any air, it was perfectly logical. Ms. McPhee’s building was on the same block as Arthur’s, on a perpendicular street. Y/N closed her eyes, reaching back to grasp the counter.

“Y/N, what’s wrong?”

Heat rose from Y/N’s shoulders, through her neck, to her face. “Arthur… Arthur’s address is included.” She held out the paper to Patricia. “How am I supposed to tell him?”

Standing, Patricia put her hands on Y/N’s shoulders. “This is going to take months and months. And you’re trying to stop it.”

“I know, but-” Y/N started.

“Does he know the details of what you’re working on?” After Y/N shook her head, Patricia continued. “It’s not going to do any good to say anything.”

“I just told you I love him. How can I-”

The blaring sound of the phone interrupted her. After another couple rings, she went to grab the beige receiver from the wall next to the kitchen entrance. "Hello?"

"Hi. It's Arthur."

Y/N checked the clock - it was after seven. He'd probably expected her to call by now. Pointing at the receiver, she turned around and looked at Patricia. "Arthur, I'm sorry I haven't called yet. I was just talking about you." She took a breath, trying to keep her voice from reflecting the anger simmering inside her. "Why don't you come over now? You can meet Patricia before she-"

His voice was strained when he interrupted her. "No. I can't. Is there anyway you can come to the hospital?"

That was unexpected. She felt worry cross her face. "Are you all right?"

"It's my mother. We just got here. I don't know what's wrong. There was an ambulance when I got home from..." His tone lowered, sounding a little embarrassed. "Can you please come? I don't understand all the paperwork." A pause, then. “I don’t mean to bother you.”

"You’re never a bother. I'll be right there. Which hospital?" Y/N watched as Patricia rose from her chair and started packing up the file she'd brought.

"Gotham General. In the emergency room," he answered.

"I'm on my way." She grabbed her coat and purse as she hung up. "Arthur's mother's in the ER. I gotta grab a cab."

Patricia took her jacket. "I brought my car. I'll take you."

Y/N gave Patricia a good, long hug, something she rarely did. "I owe you. Thank you for helping me."

"Anytime. Arthur's not the only one who's too self-reliant."

Y/N rolled her eyes at Patricia and squeezed her arm as she lead them both into the hallway, then locked the door.

Tag list (Let me know if you want to be added!): @harmonioussolve​ @clowndaddyfleck​ @sweet-nothings04​ @stephieraptorr​ @rommies​ @invisiblewispofwhimsey @let-the-stars-fall-in-the-abyss​

[sosthemortalcoil]

Is there a list of all of the RO's and their descriptions?

There are several, but I’m compiling them here to help.

1. Sabriel (pansexual, she/her) is another angel of Guardian rank. She’s the Guardian Angel Overseer for the area where you will be living and is technically responsible for making sure you don’t do anything that would influence the state of the world unduly. She enjoys human culture (particularly Star Wars) and has a fondness for tea. She has a lot of walls up that prevent her from easily trusting anything from Heaven, especially figures in power. Having fun is often put on the back-burner when she’s overworked (which is a common state for her). She tries to put duty above all else, though she’s too compassionate to always succeed in this. Being honest with herself is something she values, but that doesn’t mean she’ll be straightforward or honest with others.

Her preferred form stands at 5′9″/175 cm. She has a mess of frizzy brown hair that constantly escapes into her oval face. Her grey-blue eyes are usually underscored by bags, and she wears rectangular, black-frame glasses. Her nose is thin with flared nostrils, her lips curve up naturally but are drawn down by the faint lines on her features. Roughly same age as Ramiel. Her body looks soft, without much definition, but she’s iron and steel at her core.

2. Alice Hudson (bisexual, she/her) is a human and one potential partner for Gabriel. She’s the only child of a powerful medium and is well aware of the supernatural world even though she herself has no gifts. She’s a believer of order though she also believes that there are exceptions and that you have to take things on a case by case basis. She loves to tease coworkers and is fond of practical jokes but perfectly capable of being serious. Commitment makes her skittish in personal relationships. She is also a little afraid of children. She’s a person who will bend the rules if need be–the end justifies the means in some cases. She likes tinkering with her motorcycle(s), rebuilding them when she finishes one.

She stands 5′11″/180 cm with brown shoulder length hair that is mostly straight and usually pulled back in a ponytail. Her skin is fair, touched by sun. Her most noticeable feature is her piercing, light grey eyes that see more than people think. At the start of the story she’s 26 years old. She has lips that border on the thin side, but are quick to smile. Her eyebrows are round, above straight eyes. Her nose is on the short side in overall length, with a deviation from where she once got it broken. The tip is round but drawn out from her face, her nostrils small. She has a runner’s body, muscles built for endurance and speed rather than raw strength. She keeps her nails short, and rarely wears any sort of make-up. She is a predominantly Caucasian mix.

3. Tadea Guerrero (lesbian, she/her) is a werepanther. By the time you meet her she’s the second-in-command of her pride. Prickly on the outside, she sees official authorities (the police) as something to be leery of at best. The pressures of the former leadership of her pack, which emphasized cruelty, leaves her bitter and mistrustful of others. Aggressive and fierce, she supports Leo’s new leadership style though thinks he is too naive to hold it on his own without her assistance. She favors practicality and is cutthroat in making decisions.

She respects strength and will exploit any weaknesses she can find in almost anyone to further her agenda or that of her pack--because she doesn’t believe in the innate goodness of most people, Leo being an exception. In a romantic relationship she can be shy due to inexperience with a proper relationship. She likes flowers, and pink, and things she feels are super girly and don’t fit with the rough-and-tough image she projects. Being with Gabriel would allow her to relax a little, exposing more of her soft side.

She stands at 5′8″/173 cm. Her skin is a rich brown. Short-cropped black hair is styled into a miniature mohawk most of the time, accenting her square jaw and chin. Her cheeks are the softest part of her, her body muscular and lean with little of what might be called feminine softness. Her straight brows sit over large darkbrown, almost black, eyes. Her nose is of medium length with a broad bridge and solid point, resting above chapped lips. Her eyelashes are startling long against her cheeks. She has barbed-wire tattoos on both of her arms, wrapped around roses on the left arm.

4. Karyn Brown (straightish, she/her) is a female werewolf, with some human bloodline, who’s adept at dodging pack responsibilities. She loyal to her pack but has a wild streak. She is of the opinion that life is too short to be serious and tends to be seen as vain and flighty. She is intelligent and a skilled hacker.  She enjoys kickboxing and zumba, can’t cook for the life of her and is very spontaneous. She works as a barista at the local coffee shop, in addition to some of her computer-related odd-jobs. She enjoys dubsteb, flirting, and living life to the fullest.

She is 5′6:/168 cm, of Western European descent. Her hair is mid-back and wavy, golden blonde. She usually wears it in ponytail or loose, and often has a chunk died various colors. Her narrow amber eyes frame a button nose and lips almost perpetually curved in a smirk. Freckles span the bridge of her nose and fan out across her cheeks. She’s fit, but her body appears more soft than toned. Her face is heart-shaped, her hairline low on her brow. Two thin eyebrows curve slightly, following the shape of her eyes. Her cheeks are rosy and full. Her wolf form seems too small for its paws and has a russet coat.

5. Stephanie Xinxin Lee (straight, she/her) is a witch who works at the police department as a beat cop. She specializes in charms and trinkets not having much magical power at her disposal. She’s a little sensitive about her size and hates speaking to large groups of people. Generally mild mannered she enjoys strange tea blends and can talk for hours about the magical properties of herbs but is dismal at pop culture references. She likes learning new things, and has no qualms about taking down people twice her size. While she loves her family, she’s excited to be on her own, away from much of the expectations and pressures of her family.

She’s the shortest RO at 5′2″/157 cm and is ethnically Chinese. She has dark brown eyes that slant upwards slightly, underneath thin black brows. Her long, mid-back length black hair is usually kept pinned up in a tight bun. Her features are generally on the round side, small and delicate. Her lips are narrow, the bridge of her nose flat and the tip of her nose round. Her olive skin is clear apart from a beauty mark at the corner of her left eye. She might be described as petite.

6, Iro Nyx (aromantic, pansexual, she/her) is a succubus dating from Hellenistic Greece. She’s a RO option only for darker Gabriels (though you can have a fling with her as a lighter Gabriel, she just won’t be interested in a relationship of any kind). As a succubus she has mid-level shape-shifting abilities which she predominantly uses to change her physical appearance. Iro likes drinks and toying with humans, though she is not a fan of blood and gore. She tries to rely on her wiles and ability to wheel and deal to maintain a comfy lifestyle free of being controlled. Iro is comfortable with who she is; she doesn’t want to change. She does want more control and power over her life, and will join a Gabriel whom she believes can deliver these things.

Her appearance depends on the day and whatever form she feels likewearing. Her original form had curly light brown hair that she would pin up, exposing the nape of her elegant neck. She was fine-boned and small, with large hazel eyes set above pouty lips. Her nose was small with a pointed tip, her face round. She is roughly 2300 years old.

7. Iain O’Brien (straightish, he/him) is the other option for your partner on the police force. He’s from an Irish Catholic family though he finds himself unable to commit to the same level of faith as his stringent mother. He likes to play the white knight and is always willing to help when asked. He’s very good with his niece and nephew, adores kids, but tends to be clueless when it comes to picking up on hints in relationships. He says drinking is as necessary as water to an Irish-man (even though he wasn’t born in Ireland). He laughs a lot, even when its not appropriate and sometimes speaks before thinking. His work is his passion and sometimes he neglects to take care of himself subsequently. He wasn’t the perfect son, a contrast to his ‘perfect’ sister. He grew up practicing martial arts, and decided to become a cop after a chance encounter with an officer who also went to his dojo.

He stands at 6′4″/193 cm with pale skin that burns easily and freckles spanning his broad back. His red hair, showcasing his Irish blood, is kept on the short side, just barely curling around his ears. When it gets too long the entire mass becomes curly. His eyes are a vivid green, crinkled at the edges with laugh lines. He has a square chin but a softer edge to his jawline than he likes. At the start of the story he’s 25. He has a semi-prominent brow ridge, with thick eyebrows. He has a Roman nose, long and straight. His upper lip has a neat bow to it, and his lower lip is full. 100% human. He works on core and toning, and carries some extra weight around his hips from his penchant for alcohol. On occasion he gets some red fuzz and scruff on, but never lets it get to a full beard.

8. Aelius Roman (pansexual, he/him) works ‘with’ Iro. He’s the incubus to her succubus. Technically they have a competition to see who can gain the most contracts and acquire the most power but he tends to be less ruthless than Iro. He still remembers being mortal and often includes loopholes in his contracts that the clever can get out of–though sometimes these ‘loopholes’ require a greater sacrifice than the original contract. He has a morbid sense of humor and lacks a sense of what humans judge as common decency. He is also possessive of whatever he views as his and sees lying as the key to any good relationship. He enjoys causing verbal disagreements and breaking up ‘happy-couples.’ Most of the time he wears a smile but can become maudlin, which is when he acts the most callous. He prefers to be on the outside looking in; while Iro likes to feed directly, Aelius likes to skim along the top, feeding in proximity. Unlike most incubi or succubi, Aelius isn’t that interested in the act of sex. He enjoys physical intimacy, but small touches and being close are more important to him than intercourse.

His appearance depends on the day and his form, though he typicallyprefers heights ranging from 5′6/168 cm to 5′ 10″/178 cm. He’s Roman via Gaul. Nospoilers on his original look. He is an incubus demon, formerly human. He’s roughly 2100 years old.

9. Ramiel (pansexual, he/him) is a Fallen who has many regrets about his past. He is excellent at putting on masks and getting his job done but takes no pleasure in working for Hell. It’s a necessary evil to him. He’s leery of getting close to Gabriel given their past, not wishing to endanger them but unable to stay away either. He used to be a prankster with little grasp on responsibility, prone to rash decisions. Since his Fall he’s learned a lot about himself, having grown into someone who is more mature and aware of who he is. Much of his humor is buried underneath his regret, but it’s not impossible to see.

Ramiel’s walking form stands at 6′6″/198 cmand has dark brown hair, wavy and shoulder-length that he usually pulls back in a tie at the nape of his neck. He usually has five-o-clock shadow. His eyes are a warm honey-brown, but they look tired. His skin is tan and weathered, more suited to someone who works outside than the lawyer he masquerades at. If it weren’t for the expensive tailored suit, custom Italian leather shoes and briefcase, he could be mistaken for one of his clients being held overnight. He has a long straight nose, a thin upper lip and a full lower lip.

He rarely stands straight-backed anymore, his shoulders often curving with the weight of his failures. Still, he cuts a handsome figure, a quiet intensity to him and a warmth in his smile that draws people in, despite the slightly haggard look to him at times. The oldest of the nestmates by a bit.  

10. Charleston Sawyer (formerly Valois) (gay, he/him) is another cop at the precinct and a werewolf. His orientation and refusal to continue the family bloodline led to him splitting with the pack he was born in. After a few years he was recruited by the alpha of the Jericho City pack as an Enforcer. He is relatively laid-back and easygoing at work, quicker with a smile. That extends only to his co-workers that he trusts. He quite astute and reads people well, but comes across as a pushover to most cops because of his more reserved nature. In the pack he becomes second because of his martial skills (he’s a Beta second while a second appointed for their ability to deal with emotions and politics is usually an Omega second). At home he tends to be withdrawn and cold, quicker to snarl than help--at least at first. The exception to his attitude at home is his alpha, Tom, and Tom’s daughter, Josie. He expects rejection and awkwardness from most of the pack, and it takes him time to open up and trust them.

He is 5′6″/168 cm and French. He has thick dark brown hair, swept back from his face. He has a neatly trimmed covering of hair one could call a beard, highlighting his rectangular jaw. He has mesmerizing hazel eyes situated beneath dark brows that are often drawn low. His skin is tanned, though whether from sun or natural coloring it’s impossible to tell. He’s 29 at the start of the story. He is pureblood werewolf, and his wolf form is a dark grey that borders on black. He’s stocky and solidly built, with the heaviest musculature of all the ROs, but remains flexible.

11. Tom Garrow (straight, he/him) is the leader of the local werewolf pack and recently widowed. Newly a single-father, he struggles between balancing his daughter and his pack. Well-traveled and educated, he tends to have lofty ideas that sometimes need a dose of practicality. He is not a fan of his wolf nature and tends to try to cover any of his ‘innate savagery’ with an excess of culture in his day-to-day life. He runs an upscale bar for his ‘day’ job and is a shrewd business man. He deliberately appointed Charleston in spite of the majority of the pack’s feelings--wondering if an Enforcer was really the best fit for second--informing them that he was selecting the best person for the job, feelings be damned.

He cares for Charleston as a close friend but often finds himself unable to help with his friend’s issues without making them worse. Respected for his leadership because he puts the safety of the pack first, he can struggle with relationships outside of the pack. He does want to create a more international and cooperative pack that has other supernatural allies but has yet to persuade the pack to his point of view, especially after the death of his wife where they want to close ranks. When in a relationship, he likes to indulge in more of his wolf nature, allowing for some of that freedom that he tries to keep out of his professional life.

Tom is 30 years old at the start of the story and stands at 6′5″/196 cm. Ethnically he’s of Western European descent, mixed. He was born a werewolf, but has human blood in his bloodline. His dark brown hairis of medium-short length just brushing his collar and swept away from his widow’s peak. It’s already starting to silver. His warm brown eyes, which take on a golden hue, are evenly spaced on his oval face, cut by a slightly hooked, Romanesque nose. He has strong bones, though his cheeks run a little towards gaunt. His face remains unlined. His skin is a warm peach. His wolf form is entirely silver, lean and long-legged. His shoulders are broad, but he leans towards slim elegance, a graceful dancer’s build with some definition.

12. Leo Soto (pansexual, he/him) is the werepanther Alpha. Young for an Alpha, he succeeded by killing the previous Alpha as is custom with werepanthers (or so it seems). He is attempting to change the way the pride behaves but meets resistance. A bit of an idealist he is often frustrated by what he calls outdated moralities but lacking little in the way of different life experiences tends to exert the authority of his position when challenged. He often appeals to higher powers for guidance, especially when trying to remain calm. He is eager to work with Gabriel, and is nervous and a little naive when it comes to relationships. He views forgiveness and compassion as priorities, despite little in his life showing him the advantages of those qualities.

He stands at 6′1″/185 cm. He is Hispanic, with sienna skin and broad cheekbones. His solid black hair is usually kept in a long,single braid running down his back. Deep golden-brown eyes are set beneath dark, prominent brows. He has a sharp jawline, softened by the remnants of his youth. His body is honed, ready for fight or flight, sinewy and graceful. His white teeth flash often in smiles from behind soft lips. He has a single tattoo, a pair of angel wings on the nape of his neck, usually concealed by his hair.

13. Ryder (Eljas) Alsvartrson (bisexual, he/him): Warlock, born Eljas but renamed himself Ryder as the centuries passed to blend better. He has a brother named Nate who is a perpetually high necromancer.

Warlocks are territorial due to the nature of their power (demonic bargains) so he is the sole warlock in the city. (Warlocks are a type of magic user, and the term is gender neutral.) He has a soft spot for his brother even though he’s usually found yelling at him. Hates werewolves. Likes to use hellfire to burn things.

He has an intense hatred of weakness and is of the opinion that if you can’t hold onto power then you never deserved it. He has no qualms about killing and isn’t particularly good at relationships. Vain, he likes to enforce stereotypes of what a warlock looks like (according to him) so he goes around dressed in a black leather duster, black boots, black cargo pants, a (you guessed it) black shirt.

He is flattered by people giving him power. He is attracted to power, regardless of gender. Ryder finds ruthlessness and manipulating others a turn on. He can actually be protective of the MC if the relationship is approached carefully, but generally he prefers to be part of a power couple. (The tag #evil bean is his.)

His natural height is 5′5″/165cm, but he wears boots with lifts whenever he’s in public, bumping up his height by two inches. He’s Norse, and has straight, knee-length,white-blonde hair that pours over his thin body. His pale, almost white eyes peer out from beneath almost invisible eyebrows, his thin and humorless lips rest below his hawk nose, the tip of which is just slightly upturned. He has high cheekbones, and a long face, a rectangular jaw line but soft chin. He appears to be about 23 years old. He runs skinny, almost unhealthily so, lanky and lean. Natural physical strength isn’t something he concerns himself with, and one can tell.

14. Zaria Wangari (pansexual, she/her) is half-human, on her father’s side. Her mother is a Sauti ya hila (a species unique to the SoS world). Because of her heritage, she is incapable of hearing normal human vocal ranges, so for most intents and purposes she is deaf. She works as the Medical Examiner for Jericho City Police Department.

Because of her deafness, she typically won’t initiate conversations with unknown people or in large groups as she gets nervous about how she sounds. She is fluent in ASL, and the rest of the precinct has various levels of fluency in it as well.

She tends to respond logically to situations first, always being careful to consider things before speaking. She dislikes being rushed or pressed for quick decisions, and isn’t shy about letting you know so. Questioning her knowledge is a good way to offend her. She’s reserved until she knows you, and then is prone to slipping in teasing remarks when visited in her home domain (that being her office and lab). Outside of work, she enjoys spending time outside with Rolo, her Komondor (aka large mop dog). She is a wine aficionado.

Looking sharp and well-presented is important to her, and she is meticulous about the aesthetic feel of her office and home. Going to crime scenes can stress her out because of the potential for crowds and unexpected people; she likes being in control, and places with a lot of people tend to put her on the defensive and she shuts down. Going out in groups with friends that she knows is usually the way she counters for the lack of control in new environments, but in general she prefers to be a creature of habit.

Her natural eye-color is violet, so she wearsamber-contacts most of the time. Zaria’s hair is a wavy cascade of mahogany that she usually wears pulled back in a bun. Her natural eye-color is violet, so she wears amber-colored contacts. She often wears high-heeled boots that bump her height up to 6’ 2"/188cm (she’s actually 6’0"/183cm). She is 29 years old at the start of the story, but is often mistaken for being a decade younger. Luckily her height stops most people from attempting to card her or question if she’s truly old enough to have obtained her Doctorate in Forensic Pathology. She has prominent, high cheekbones and full lips. Her nose is broad, and her eyebrows arched. She has long legs and long, elegant fingers. She’s lean, but has broad shoulders, and knows how to flatter her assets.

15. Michael (pansexual, he/him) is an archangel and nestmate of Gabriel. Young Michael was eager to please and desperate to belong. Older Michael has become jaded and is a source of nearly constant conflict. His version of being overprotective comes across as controlling and stifling. Somewhere along the way something changed him, and the new Michael is often angry and upset, no real cause required.

In angel form, Michael stands at 6′2″/188 cm. Michael wears his long blond hair in a neat, single braid down his back. It falls to midback.There’s nothing in particular that stands out about his looks–standard black eyes, golden skin, large gold wings, lean and muscular build. His nose is on the small size, some might say more button-nose than not, his lips are thin, and his chin has a stubborn jut to it. In human form, Michael’s form is 5′10″/178 cm. His hair is cropped short and blonde, about an inch-and-a-half in length. He has wide whiskey brown eyes. He has a stubborn chin, a short face, and a button-nose. His shoulders are narrow and his frame lean. His lips are thin and usually turned down to mirror the slant of his thick, light blonde eyebrows. His skin is an almost unhealthy shade of white. Slightly older than Gabriel.

[the-evil-authoress]

GX Month Day 8: “The Power of Friendship!”

Favorite dynamic duo, two characters you think would have been friends if only they met, how friendship saves the day, or maybe a friendship fail. It’s up to you!

HERE. Have some super self indulgent hot springs shenanigans feat. my favorite trio! =D

“This is amazing...” Jesse groans, rolling his head against the rocks as he sinks into the indulgently warm water. It’s a bone deep warmth, chasing away any stress or aches and rendering his mind blissfully numb.

“Never been to one?”

It takes a moment to process Jaden’s words. “Don’t have ‘em back home,” he mumbles, shaking the pleasant fog out of his head just enough to formulate the sentence. “Wish we did. Feels like heaven.” He sinks a little further, practically boneless mush, before a nagging little thought drags him out of the bliss. “Å, where’s Chris? There aren’t dividers for privacy.” He rolls his head toward his companion.

“She’s around here somewhere,” Jaden says, eyes still closed as he leans against the rocks, completely unconcerned. Well, the two had spoken like they come here often so Jesse probably shouldn’t worry about it.

A sharp trill followed by a splash catches his attention. Not far away, Ruby paddles through the water, ripples parting around her. “What?” Jesse sits up abruptly.

“Oh, yeah.” Jaden snickers as Jesse stares at the contradiction to everything he knows about duel spirits. “Out here duel spirits can interact with nature more than usual. Chris said it’s something about the high concentration of natural energy.”

“Å?” There are too many question from that sentence alone for Jesse to pretend it makes sense.

“Oh, well, I guess it’s the reason Christina can see duel spirits?” Jaden says thoughtfully. “She can see a lot of things most people can’t, some things even we can’t.” A hand motions between himself and Jesse. “She can see a person’s-- what’s it called...? Not soul.” Voice dropping, he mutters to himself as he bites a thumb nail. “Energy of the body?”

“Aura!” Dark Magician Girl pops up without warning, and only having seven of his own spirits that like to pop up unannounced keeps Jesse from startling too badly. “She can see a person’s aura,” Dark Magician Girl continues eagerly. “And she’s pretty in tune with the flow of natural energy through the world; it’s why she can always spot the bad guy!”

“Aura?” The term sounds vaguely familiar. “Like a person’s soul?”

Dark Magician Girl shakes her head. “No, she can’t see your actual soul, it’s more like the light given off by your soul.”

Jesse blinks. Was that supposed to make sense?

Humming, Dark Magician Girl pressed a finger to her lips in thought. “Think of it this way,” she finally says, pintling to the sky. “You can’t look at the sun directly but you can still see the light it produces.”

“Å.” Still not sure how that relates to aura and soul light.

“Yeah, I never really understood it either.” Jaden offers a sympathetic grin.

Dark Magician Girl visually pouts before snapping her fingers with an, “Aha! Those lamp thingies you humans use for light! You put a lampshade over the bulb so you can’t see the bulb anymore, but you can still see its light! It’s like that!”

“So the bulb would be a person’s soul and the...” Oh, frick. How does he say this in Japanese?

Undeterred, Dark Magician Girl nods proudly. “Your actual soul is obscured by your physical body but we can still ‘see’ its essence - that is aura.”

Okay, that makes enough sense that Jesse can understand. He gets the feeling that it isn’t as simple as ‘seeing light around a person’, but he can probably ask Christina for more detail about it later.

“She can always tell what kind of mood you’re in too. I swear it’s almost like she can read your mind sometimes!” Jaden laughs.

“I can’t read your mind.” Jesse jerks to the sound of Christina’s voice, heat rising to his cheeks. The young woman stands waist deep in the water, her hair twisted up into a pile atop her head and one arm crossed over her chest to obscure it from view. Should he be looking right now? The polite thing would be to look away, right? She’s got some nice curves hidden under the baggy uniform... “I’ve just gotten really good at guessing what’s going on in there.” Christina pokes Jaden in the forehead, then sinks into the steam and frothy water on his other side and lets her arm fall away.

“Oh, hey! You did decide to join us!” Jaden beams as if there’s nothing remotely out of place with the situation. Is he that dense, or is Jesse missing a vital piece of information here? “Took ya a few months to be okay around Syrus, and you still haven’t come out around Hassleberry.”

The water ripples as Christina shrugs. “Hassleberry’s harder to read. I think it’s that fossil in his leg. Alters the aura. And Mana abandoned me so...” She stretches her arms, cracking her knuckles before settling against the rocks.

“Mana?” Jesse repeats with confusion, deciding that’s the safest option of the numerous questions he now has. Who has a fossil in their what?

“Me!” Dark Magician Girl giggles. “Like the royal magician of Pharaoh Set’s court!” she bounces in the air.

“It was easier than always calling her Dark Magician Girl.”

That makes about as much sense as it can, so Jesse nods and lets the lull of the toasty water claim him again. ‘Mana’ has wandered off when he looks up again, and Jaden leans comfortably against Christina’s shoulder.

“So I’ve been wonderin’...”

“No,” Christina answers immediately without even looking at Jesse, while Jaden turns a curious glance. In the confused silence that follows, she turns to look at him, the side of her chin bumping against the top of Jaden’s head. “Syrus asked the same thing first year. No, we’re not.” Which is not a terribly compelling argument when the side of her face is leaning against the top of his head, but at least she looked him in the eyes this time.

“Mm.” Jaden shifts against Christina’s shoulder, settling into a more comfortable position. “Geez, why do people keep thinking that?”

I dunno know, maybe cuz...that, Jesse thinks, slightly bewildered by the fact that Jaden finds absolutely nothing odd about his and Christina’s current position. Christina herself looks accustomed to the action, but Jaden appears downright oblivious. “You two seem pretty comfortable with each other,” Jesse says aloud.

“Well, yeah. We’ve known each other for years,” Jaden grins. “We used to take baths together when we were little, and kinda just kept washing each other’s backs ever since.”

The amused snort Christina gives in response tells Jesse there’s definitely a story behind that one. “And your parents were okay with that?”

“They were never home much,” Jaden shrugs and glances off as if in complete disinterest of the topic, but Jesse can see a story there too.

“And it never got awkward?”

Jaden blinks up at him with the absolute most sincere look of confusion Jesse has ever seen on a human being. “No?”

“Jay’s asexual,” Christina sighs as she tips her head back and sinks further into the water. Jaden emits a displeased noise at the shift of his pillow but sits up rather than try to adjust.

“Ah.” That explains a lot, actually. And now is probably a bad time to admit that he doesn’t actually have a preference. He can hear the Crystal Beasts snickering from the changing room. Y’all can just be quiet.

“Probably biromantic though,” Christina adds and Jaden twists to frown at her.

“Bi-what?”

“Romantic. You like to cuddle, Jay, and you don’t really give a crap if that person is a guy or girl.”

This gives Jaden pause. “Nah, so long as they’re comfortable,” he admits but just as quickly turns to frown at her again, “But I still don’t want to kiss them or anything.”

Jesse snickers as Christina shrugs. “What about you?” he asks with a glance to the redhead.

“Straight--” Christina begins as Jaden interrupts with a sly grin, “She likes bishonen.”

“Jaden!” the redhead snaps, water sloshing around her shoulders as she jerks to sit up straight.

“What? You say you’re straight but all the guys you’ve ever liked have been really girly,” Jaden jibes with a teasing grin.

“Bi...shonen?” Jesse repeats the unfamiliar phrase. What kind of boys?

“Girly boys,” Jaden deadpans.

“Pretty boys!”

“Same difference. I bet you even think Lex is pretty,“ Jaden taunts with a waggle of his eyebrows.

“Of course I think she’s pretty! You'd have to be blind not to!” Christina snaps with a pointed glare.

Jaden shrugs, nonpulsed. “Objectively, sure she’s pretty. Still doesn’t mean I’m interested.”

“Says the guy who agreed to be her fiance.”

“Hold on- what?!” Jesse sputters, jerking upright. Did he hear that correctly?!

“Christinaaa! I thought we agreed not to talk about that!”

“What??” Jesse gapes.

Jaden whines, giving his best impersonation of a kicked puppy but Christina has a Cheshire grin plastered across her face. “First year, there was this guy, a second or third year, who was hard core hitting on and harassing Lex. He sees Jay and Lex interacting, gets suuuper jealous, and challenges Jaden to a duel to be Lexi’s fiance. Jaden agrees, no questions asked.”

Jaden groans loudly, face pressed so hard against Christina’s shoulder Jesse wonders how he can even breathe. “It doesn’t count! I didn’t even know what it meant!” His protests fall on uncaring ears as Christina continues to grin wickedly, and he slumps in defeat. “And you’re never gonna let me forget it.”

Christina hums. “Of course I’m not gonna let such prime teasing material go to waste.”

A beat passes, then Jaden jerks back, shoulders rigged and voice tense. “Wait a minute, you don’t...?”

“Who said you were the only one I wouldn’t let forget?” Christina hums and Jaden wails. “Lexi never said no~o.”

Jaden shoves his face in Jesse’s shoulder. “Jesse! Save me! She’s evil!” he wails, and with Christina downright cackling, Jesse finds himself inclined to agree.

“Alright, newbie, what about you?” Christina asks when she finally recomposes herself.

“Me what?” Jesse croaks, still reeling over the revelation from the last few minutes of his life.

“Romantic preference.”

“Ah, I, ah, I don’t really have a preference,” Jesse admits, stumbling over the words as he drags his brain back to the present moment. “I’ve found I care more about someone’s personality than their gender or body type.”

An uncomfortable moment of silence passes. Jaden’s face is still pressed into Jesse’s skin. “Oh, that makes sense,” Christina says, quiet and thoughtful.

The tension drains with a breath of air. Jesse grins. “Re-evaluating a few things?”

Christina shrugs. “What is that called?”

“I don’t know? I don’t know if there is a word for that.” Much less how it would translate into Japanese. He might be able to passably keep up in a conversation but if actually being in Japan has taught Jesse anything, it’s that he’s basically still a beginner.

Christina huffs, obviously dissatisfied with this answer.

“Honestly, I don’t think ya really need a label for it, so long as you understand it. Sure, it’s nice to have a simple way to explain it to others, but it’s not all that important.”

Christina stares at him and Jesse wonders if he said something weird again or screwed up his Japanese or maybe both. That is entirely possible. Then she huffs softly with a grin and Jaden snickers against Jesse’s shoulder. “I knew I liked you.” He twists around and tips his head back to look up at the blunette. “The simple minded must stick together!” He punches the air with a dripping fist before sagging against Jesse laughing.

Christina looks like she can’t decide whether to be amused or exasperated.

An odd chirping noise pulls their attention, and Jaden bolts upright. “Aqua Dolphin! Hey, Aqua Dolphin!” He sloshes away excitedly, leaving Jesse and Christina alone.

“Spazz.” Christina smirks, a fondness in her eyes.

A comfortable silence settles between them, and Jesse remembers he still has questions. Let’s start with something simple. “So you’ve been down here with the others before?”

“A few times, mostly with Syrus.” Christina shrugs. “I’m not as concerned with things like modesty once I get to know a person well enough.” 

“Oh.” Is that a Japanese thing or a her thing? Japan does have a lot of communal bath houses, but aren't most of them separated by gender? Japan does produce a fair chunk of...questionable content. Anime is weird. Red hair tilts in his vision and Jesse realizes he’s been silently pondering this long enough for Christina to give him a concerned look. “Ah, sorry, I’m just...tryin’ to figure out if I should be flattered or not? I mean, we haven’t exactly known each other very long.”

“Yeah, but… I don’t know.” Christina gazes across the hot spring with a distant look. “It feels like we’ve known each other longer.”

Oh-

Something large hits the water with a great splash and sends the resulting wave crashing over both their heads with startled exclamations. “Amber Mammoth...!” Jesse complains loudly but laughs as he shakes water from his now dripping bangs.

“Sorry, Jesse!” Mammoth apologizes as he paddles off. Amethyst sniffs the water before sticking her nose in the air and trotting off. Emerald slips into the spring with a plop, gliding smoothly in another direction.

“This water really does feel great.”

Christina’s shoulders shake with her own amusement as Ruby hops up on Jesse’s shoulder, nuzzles the side of his head, and Jesse has to marvel at the way he can actually feel her fur, not just a disembodied impression of touch. With an exasperated sigh, Christina stands and reaches up to undo her hair, and Jesse should really probably look away like now but he finds his eyes stuck on the exposed skin.

“So much for keeping my hair dry,” the girl mumbles as red locks tumble freely down her back. Then, as if suddenly remembering her surroundings, she looks down at Jesse. Blue eyes meet green and this is the part where most girls in anime scream and hide right? Maybe slap the guy? Nope, she flashes him a sassy grin and places a hand on her hip as she pops it to the side and freaking poses--

“Like what you see?”

Jøss! Jesse tears his eyes away to stare at some very interesting rocks on the opposite side of the hot spring. Not a moment later, he hears the infuriating sound of mad giggles and a loud slosh of water. He nearly jumps out of his skin when he feels her hair against his arm. “You’re too cute,” she wheezes. “Ra if I could have gotten that kind of reaction out of Jaden...” she descends into giggles against his shoulder again.

“You are so not fair,” he grumbles, glaring at the rock and trying to will away the embarrassing heat in his cheeks.

“You know it.” He can hear the sharpness of her grin as she reaches up to flick his nose.

These people are weird, Jesse decides, but if he had a problem with weird he wouldn’t be here at Duel Academy.

A loud wolf whistle breaks into the dwindling giggles and Christina stiffens even before Jaden’s loud proclamation, “Go for it, you two!”

“Jaden Yuki!!” Christina bellows, leaping from the water as Jaden laughs and scrambles from his perch on the rock to run from his best friend’s wrath. “I’m going to strangle you!”

Jesse snickers. Yup, weird. But he kinda likes it.

[cutegirlmayra]

Lavinya the Red Fox’s part in Soler’s story

This is for @solerwolf21​‘s story, where he was wondering if I’d let Lavinya have a cameo for it!

Here’s the scenario he gave me for my Sonic OC (Who is OP and basically Genie-like from Aladdin. Just a jester, comedy relief character to be honest, but as brilliant as Jack Sparrow’s accidental tomfoolery)

Our chat: 

solerwolf21 : Alright if your down theres two the first is like an intro to the character if you want but basically shes doing some task around the base (leave that up you) and she's about to bite it in doing the task but Soler comes to help her and we learn that they know each other (this definitely isn't the first time he's helped her)

The second is later on Shay escapes and Soler, Shadow and Sally are late to get there but someone is distracting him turns out is its our girly (again you can go nuts with whatever it is shes doing) but before Shay could get in a hit Soler comes in for the save again and though he tries to scold her slightly she feels she's saved the day (which she sorta did lol)

cutegirlmayra : Lol sounds legit how Lavinya behaves lol My first idea is that he's trying to get past her and she slams her hand into the wall to block him and looks up like, "Hey, you're hot." and he's like really confused. "I didn't say that out loud." And he's like, "Are you an idiot?" and she goes, "Wow, but you said that out loud." lolololol

I wrote this immediately after:

First part:

It wasn’t long before the base was trying to recover, and work continued with only a minor set of hiccups…

“HYUK!” A red fox with strange blonde hair suddenly flung her back up from bending over to collect some files out of a cabinet. “Hyuk! Hyuk!” she seemed to have hiccups, and looked around for some water.

Not finding any, her tails suddenly shot her back and made her jolt towards what looked like a corner. “Ow! Hey!” the tail, as though having a mind of its own, felt around a moment before finding a cooler and began to pour a drink.

When it presented the drink to her, she sighed in relief, “HYUK!” she quickly took the cup and drank down the water, holding her breath to try and get rid of the hiccups while the tail seemed to ‘shake it’s head’ at her stupidity to even manage her own life.

“Office work…” she plugged her mouth to not hiccup, when nothing came out, she slowly opened the hand like a barn door… looked down to her mouth to wait… and then continued, “Isn’t really my forte…”

She was startled again when Soler walked by, seeming troubled and maybe focused on staying lost in his thoughts before his foot crinkled a piece of paper in his speedy walk.

“Huh?” He bent down and picked up the paper, amazed by it’s importance before examining the rest of the room. “Why are all these documents scattered everywhere?” He must have thought they were still being ransacked, so the Red fox girl quickly ran over to aid him.

“N-no-no! It’s just a light hurricane of hiccups.” She wagged her hands out in front of her as though to calm him, but he thought she was speaking metaphorically and sighed.

“Lavinya… why is it there’s always a hurricane of something when it comes to you?” He helped her picked up the papers, “You’re more suited for something where you can move around… maybe not something as delicate as… paperwork organizing.” he looked at the crinkled pieces of important papers and sighed again, ‘Who put her up to this anyway?’

“Hehe… yeah… well,... my portal hopping and poofing doesn’t exactly suit well with the princess…” She gulped, feeling her nicely cooled throat by the cold water as she did so. “They say I’m too dangerously unstable for a mission…. Since I could compromise things, and I’m not too good a messenger since I either forget or lose the message in the process. And last time, my brilliant tape recorder was almost stolen by Eggman’s forces too… soo…. I’m kinda here.” she looked around the office, showing her disdain but also sorrow at being so useless to everyone. “I can’t control my powers… so I can’t really follow directives.” she picked up another paper, and her tail swished to do the same, holding it up to her like a mouth of a creature.

She smiled sweetly and took it, “Anyway, that must be hard to understand, right?”

He looked down, thinking hard about what she said. “Actually? I completely understand.” he flopped the papers down on the desk and walked by her, patting her shoulder. “You’ll master your abilities in time. Keep at it. I know there’s a special word and symbol we can’t say or draw around you, but besides that, you’re kinda impossible to defeat, right?”

“Defeat?” She looked a little offended, “What am I? A monster to you!?”

“Well, you do say your tail is a evil mastermind.” he jokingly pointed to her tail, which at the time, was acting like a normal tail. “Who’s to say you aren’t just covering for your random tendencies to cause trouble?”

“I don’t mean too!” She slammed the papers on the desk and stormed after him. “Hey! Soler! Wait!”

“I’m leaving you in the hurricane.” he waved behind him, smiling slightly at how silly this crazy girl could get, but knew in his heart her circumstances weren’t so far off from his own… except, they were completely different, but the feelings and desires to be enough for others were the same.

----

Situation 2:

Shay flexed through the dust of his latest attack, brushing off the rubble and then cracking his individual fingers, “My poor neck…” He taunted, cracking it before rolling his shoulders as though just coming out of a leisurely spa-day. “Now… where is that charming brother of mine..?” he turned to what looked like an office, room with the wall crumbling away from it. “They don’t just kill themselves, now do they?” he continued to march with a purpose before seeing a blonde but red fox girl stick her head up, trembling, from below a desk.

He smirked, seeing the fear. He gestured for her to slowly withdraw back behind the desk, and her blue eyes just simply blinked at his gesture.

He held a finger up to his mouth as though she should remain silent, and continued towards the door.

However, before he could reach it, she slammed her hand into the wall just before the door, putting her elbow up to loop her hand behind her head, and pretended to seem like she was just chilling there.

She stuck up her lower lip and continued to play it cool… even seeing his eyes… slowly… narrow to a deadly, hostile glare of annoyance.

She thought fast, “You’re hot.” she slipped out, checking him out in a humorous way that was completely faked.

Confused, he just narrowed his eyes and slightly withdrew his neck back at her appalling display. “What did you just say?”

“Nothing out loud, I can assure you.” While her hand was behind her, she silently kept snapping it, waiting for something to randomly happen. A rubber duck poofed in behind her head and landed behind her. As it squeaked about hitting the ground, rolling till it’s head got in the way, he slowly turned to glance down at it, then raise an eyebrow.

“Eh heh, office decor. They say it’s like your home so…” she stopped herself from furthering that awkward sentence…

She kept snapping and many random items fell from behind her. A miniature rowboat, a toy snake, a slinky, a stuffed puppy, before Shay finally had enough of it.

“Are you an idiot?” he grabbed her hand that was--not so secretly--snapping and shoved her back against the door.

“Ow!” she flinched, her eye twitching slightly at the pain. “Well, you said that out loud.”

“I won’t say this again.” He leaned in and softly spoke out such harsh and cruel words, twisting his grip to really tighten and pain her arm further. “Get out of my way, witch.”

Her eyes widened slightly.

She flexed out her hand and fell back through a portal.

Out of surprise, he let her go, amazed as the vortex looked so incredibly pitch-black with other minor colors swirling around that he honestly thought she just did something magical. He felt around the space, unable to see anything, before the red fox girl’s head popped out from the ceiling.

“Yoohoo!” she called and he turned around to blast a Chaos beam at her, but she was already portaling to another spot in the office. She blew a raspberry as he suddenly was playing whack-a-mole with this strange fox girl.

“What kind of power is this!?” he stepped back and slid on the rubber ducky, causing him to fall on the rowboat which blasted a horn. He covered his ear and turned, but that triggered the toy snake which clomped on his nose. “AH!” he jumped up to his knees but the Red Fox girl grabbed the slinky by having her two arms stick out of the portals, making a pretty twisty bow as she locked his legs together.

He tried to get up but stumbled from the horrible knot and fell down again, unable to move much but he did struggle.

As he fell, she removed the soft puppy plushie as his head hit the ground hard, and then proceeded to look at the puppy as though not sure how this would help but started whacking him with it.

The door opened and seeing her friends, she held her hands up and swayed them over her face, “Hurricane~” she teased, knowing only Soler would get the reference.

She had stalled him just long enough, and that was honestly her goal.

“Lavinya…” Sally marveled, seeing him struggling to break the slinky and realizing that her power made it an unordinary slinky. “Did you do this?” she looked at her in awe.

Lavinya flexed like a strong man a few times, her tail joining her, “Well, ah-ha, yeah, I did~” she showed off, “But I was honestly going for a sword…” she deflated herself a bit and let her arms dangle down from her hunched back in front of her. Her head also seemed despondent.

“Hmph, maybe you’re not just a clown after all.” Shadow walked by her, rubbing her head as her entire character changed to sudden glee, and he went to finish the ‘rope-tying’ she had started.

“ENOUGH!” Shay blasted the room with a Chaos Blast that had each of them shoved up against a wall.

“Offph..! He hit the mole…” she joked, even while in pain, and slid to the ground. He was strong enough to finally break the strange alien slinky as the rest of Lavinya’s summoned objects suddenly poofed out of existence once she was hit and fell to the ground.

She gripped her head, and as he grabbed her tail--which mimicked biting him, as though it had regained it’s separate personality from her again--looked as though ready to rip her to shreds.

“I’m not very fond of games…”

“Lavinya!” Soler swung a punch to a--once again--distracted Shay and helped her up. “What did I say about trouble!?”

“Sally… S-Shadow…” Lavinya weakly pointed to them as Shay’s eyes shook.

“Oh no.”

-need more @solerwolf21​? lol it was fun xD- (This is based on my commission I made for him as well.)

I JUST REALIZED THAT THE COOLER WOULD HAVE FLOODED AND THE RUBBER DUCKY SLIP AND FLOATING ALONG THE SLIPPERY FLOOR WOULD HAVE MADE SO MUCH SENSE AND BEEN SO MUCH MORE FUNNY LOLOLOL

Note: My spell check is the WORST on the planet, so if there’s some errors forgive me T-T

[merrysithmas]

some POPPER-centric hcs:

I.

Boris and Theo celebrating Popper's birthday together for two years, waking up at two in the afternoon, blinds drawn tight - but not tight enough to banish the bright gleam of treasure chest gold that flares through the slits between them, 777 Vegas coin yellow, graffitiing malleable stripes of desert sun across the walls and crumpled sheets. Theo peeking a tired eye over the coverlet from under Boris' arm, little Popper’s big cookie-round ink eyes already awake and staring at him, tail wagging bashfully against the sheets in the silence.

Boris, who was snoring just a moment ago, starts up, suddenly, electrified, hollering a gasping realization that sounds something like, “Moy malchik!” The sound pops a breaker in Theo’s brain, letting loose a migraine from last night's bender, which is evidenced by the toppled pill bottles (Xandra's), the semi-collapsed beer cans and the vague memory of Boris' stoned over-confidence ("Potter! Look - against my head - watch - I bet I can - like the movies!"), and the ultimately ignorable ache of his hamstrings.

At Boris' startling exclamation Popper lets loose an exuberant tirade of ungodly shrieking, like set off by the crack of a gun at race he was raring for, immediately licking Boris' morning-slick skin, teenaged greasy and gross, and Boris is laughing so loud that the walls almost shake, as they are so regularly starved and thin of joy. And Theo sits up, wincing (that phantom ache again, inadmissible memories) and leans on his elbow, reaching out to pat the wild little thing who quickly turns on him, "Ok - Happy birthday! Happy birthday!"

II.

Boris and Theo washing Popper in the sink - he reeks. Sickly sweet rotten fruit-smell compounded with the wet mildewy stench of old laundry, distinctly intermixed with the odor of shit. Popper’s yelping echoes through the kitchen like an antique car horn, petrified, claws rigid on the edge of the sink, braced for continued frantic attempts to flee his sudsy prison and energized with bouts of fervor not entirely unlike a demonic possession. The one overhead light fixed accusatorily above the kitchen sink makes the whole set up look like an interrogation room - worlds away from the girly relaxing grooming videos they found on Youtube.

“Potter! Not this way!" Boris screeches - voice cracking like it has been lately - exacerbated in its rawness by the cheap, caustic brand of cigarettes he smokes. Lately they’ve been meeting the parched maw of his chapped lips like a consecutive line of ants, one after the other, his fingernails yellowing. Popper shakes violently, way before Theo is ready and can throw the ratty towel across his drenched body, whirling like a windmill, fur centripetal and spiralling, soaking their filthy t-shirts flat onto their bony bruised limbs.

“Oh, Popper," Boris outright coos, followed by a placating barrage of what is unmistakably a grandmotherly coddle of (likely) Polish. "You look just like Potter!" he declares, finally discarding his ciagrette, which dims in the puddle on the counter as it sucks up water. Theo grabs it as it does, revives it, takes a long, charring drag of nicotine and tar. His eyes narrow behind his glasses, observing the drowned-rat Maltese, frigid and shaking to its bones, and completely hates how Popper's forlorn appearance quite accurately recalls his own reflecton, just in from the pool, hair flat to his head, eyes big and, somehow always, helpless.

III.

Boris and Theo say goodbye to Popper when he is fifteen. Congestive heart failure - a diagnosis so deleterious and uncomfortably human Theo finds it hard to believe when the middle-aged vet ("Dr Janet", purple earrings, thick rectangular glasses - incense burning, loose leaf tea drinking, National Park lover) breaks it to him. She seems to understand the frozen bones in his shoulders and his unexpected quietness better than he does, leaving the room before he notices she’s gone.

Even in the darkest edges of his flayed existentialisms Theo never found room for dogs. Dogs, he supposes for the first time, in an achingly unfair realization, with their bright renewable resource of happiness (which they often give freely even to the undesevering, or unknowning, or unappreciative) are immune to such nihilistic musings. Popper stares at him from the table, ragged and old, too heavy in the middle and too thin on the edges, breathing all wrong. How did - all that time pass?

Boris, on video-chat in Kyyiv, up to no nefarious deed (he insists) is the one, for once, startled by Theo’s harsh red eyes, like he's been doping too much again, but there’s no dope - just a clinical setting and a hard shuddering breathing, from somewhere offscreen, quiet like it’s coming from a baby in crib.

Boris, like a knitted sweater, so often and inevitably pulled in many different directions until he disappears, seems to swat away half a dozen Non-English speaking acquaintances before the line goes quiet on his end and Theo can actually explain what is going on. The way he touches the screen on the video chat with his fingertips when Theo presents it to Popper (“Let me see him please,” Boris had asked, with no hidden heartbreak) makes Theo’s chest crush inward like the emotional equivalent of the impact of a car accident.

Boris says no at first, when Theo makes the suggestion, no let him go when he's supposed to, not yet, then: let me see him first, and makes it all the way to JFK before his phone rings. He doesn't answer, won't, but when he walks in the jingling door from the merciless city rain, the black tails of his coat dragging water, all sharp angles and dark shadows, he already knows.

“He couldn’t wait anymore,” Theo says. And when he meets Theo’s cherry red eyes, Boris doesn’t yell, or get angry - he cries. Right there in the lobby - he cries. Hands shielding his eyes, like a boy cowering beneath the shade of an umbrella.

IV.

Later they bump coke in the bathroom of Gramercy Tavern, shitfaced at the table, “Remember when he ate Xandra’s G-string?” Theo says so loudly it rings across the room like a papal blessing.

“Aha! Yes! So sneaky. Little pervert! Gets that from you! And the time he shit in the grocery store? Aisle 12?”

The memories pour out: “His fucking pink collar with the bell on it.” “How he howl like - ooo ooo oooo! So annoying! Always in the morning! Yes, Popchyk! I’m coming!” “Oh when we caught him fucking The Playa’s chihuahua?” “да, I told him he could do better! He was nice boy she was not so nice. Still, he got more ass than either one of us,” Boris says fondly, proudly, and clinks his shotglass to Theo for what seems like the hundreth time.

“Something deeply not right about catching a Maltese in the throes of passion,” Theo says, blinking long-disturbed eyes behind the dewy lenses of his glasses. Boris seems to agree, with a noncomittal grunt, and puts a heavy, vice-like grip onto Theo’s shoulder, shaking him until he looks up.

“Like a teddy bear getting a blowjob,” he says, and Theo laughs a half-choked laugh. They’re both crying. They’re both fucking crying.

“To Popchyk née Popper, G-string sniffer, pillow hat, accomplished singer,” Theo sniffs, sitting up straightly from his messy, hunched position over the table, head back against the booth. Boris meets his eyes, they’re both such a fucking mess. “And friend.”

“Vichnaya pamyat,” Boris says formally, in response. Theo smashes his glass, agreeing.

“Eternal memory.”

V.

“Open any one! Any one you want!” Boris crows happily, the tip of his nose red like he’s been outside in the cold but he hasn’t, not for hours, and the sloshing bottle of Christmas cheer which is sitting (carelessly, without a coaster, Theo notices with disdain) on the mahogany side table is nearly empty at only half past noon. “Oh! My big mistake!” Boris makes a big show of putting his hand to his chest in guilt, elevating the bottle and placing it on top of a book instead. “блядь,” he scoffs.

“I know what ‘bitch’ in Russian is,” Theo answers, wrapped warmly in a woolen Burberry pullover, burgundy, with the festive forest green cuffs of his starched button up curling around the ends of his sleeves. Snow is falling outside like white wafting butterflies, the stone Antwerp architecture nestled under frost, Tchaikovsky on the speakers hooked up to Boris’ sentimental iPhone.

“I know!” Boris says cheerily, gesturing towards the presents beneath the tree with a sweeping, encouraging hand. “Any one!”

Theo rolls his eyes, but as they land on the smattering of gifts wrapped festively on the dark hardwood floor his mood lifts. Picking up a small one, dark matte navy blue with a silver ribbon Boris exclaims offendedly -

“No! Any one!” he repeats, taking the blue one out of Theo’s hands and replacing it with a rather less elegant medium-sized red box, bundled together with a haphazard green string. “This one!”

The oddly-weighted box quivers in his grip, a strange feeling which sends an unexpected thrill of fear through Theo, “What is this.”

“Open!” Boris goads. “Just look!” he seems pleased with himself, taking another long hit off the joint that is smoking in the ash tray and then rubbing his palms together and leaning forward over his knees, eagerly like a kid.

The box is easy to open, just a cover over a base, which Theo lifts to reveal the small fuzzy face of a tiny, tiny round dog, so extremely gay, circular in the face like a teddy bear, pawing at the side of the box.

“You like her?” Boris asks with the trepidation of new fallen snow, peering over Theo’s shoulder.

The puppy stares at him, unblinking and cherubic, and softly licks Theo’s nose. It happily lets out the shrillest bark from its tiny lungs, a sound so high-pitched it makes the bells on the tree tingle in the vaguest memory of tinnitus.

“Ah, бубенчик Popchykova!” Boris laughs.

Theo hoists the little thing up, blinking tree lights ensconsing the ball of its fuzz, an ornament-shape itself - the puppy wriggles disorganized limbs in midair, pawing innocently for warmth and closeness. Somehow smaller, more effeminate, and more annoying than his last dog. He loves her already. Round cookie-shaped eyes and a bark that splits his skull. And the name?

It fits.

[spirit-of-the-void]

Ebony and Ivory (V x Reader Fanfic) Chapter 10

Author’s notes: Screeching I FAILED YOU ALL ITS PAST MIDNIGHT

Chapter 10

Upon re-entering the apartment, you were relieved to see both boys still sleeping.

And that Griffon had moved the poet to the bed. It occurred to you that someone changed the sheets at some point, because they were a different color and no longer stained with blood from his previous wound. He was now curled on his side, black haired draped over his face and pained expression lessened a bit. That made you considerably happier. As Nico and Lady took up spots on the couch, you stepped back up to the bed, carefully pulling the covers around the poet all the way up to his chin. You stared at him with a soft expression, wanting to kiss him again but knowing doing so in front of Lady and Nico was a very bad idea. You settled on a soft pat to his head, turning to look at Nero next.

You grabbed a nearby throw blanket from the couch, feeling Nico half focusing on you, and half on getting the bottle open. You tiptoed on the hardwood, gently laying the blanket on Nero’s broad shoulders. Luckily, he was just as deep a sleeper as V. He barely stirred, snores uninterrupted and steady. Jesus, how many energy drinks had he consumed over a short span? There was at least ten cans, which you knew definitely wasn’t healthy. A vague memory hit you, his actions somehow reminiscent of a past you, when you were human--you couldn’t remember the specifics, but you knew you were just like him when you were still  a teenager. Mind you, he was an adult and drinking the sugary, caffeine filled concoctions was probably bad. Still.

After assuring that both boys were covered, you moved back to the living room in enough time to see Nico popping the cork off the bottle. You contented yourself was sliding into an armchair, sitting cross-legged. The loud noise made you look at V, but the boy hadn’t stirred at all. Jesus, Griffin wasn’t lying. V was a heavy sleeper, and you were guessing Nero was less so, but his energy drink induced haze probably left him with a huge crash. Speaking of Griffon, the bird flew over to you and landed on the armchair. He seemed relieved to see you at least slightly more calm, cheeks tinted pink after a nice rest in the hot water. You could feel both girls watching with surprise as he settled himself around your shoulders, head pressed to your cheek.

“Look at you, Chicken!” Nico commented, looking thoroughly amused, “Didn’t take you for the snugglin’ type.”

Griffon let out a snort, shockingly not moving away despite her taunting words--worry must have been stronger than his pride at that moment. It made you feel warm.

“Laugh it up, miss artist,” He hissed, gold eyes staring coldly at her, “I ain’t movin’. I’m pretty damn comfortable.”

You smiled, patting his head softly. As you did, Shadow hopped down from the bed, coming over to sit on the floor in front of you and plop their head on your lap. Their support felt nice as always, warming your feet a bit as you gave a gentle pat.

“I don’t mind.” You reassured the girls, gingerly accepting a cup of whatever the fruity-looking alcohol was. You sniffed it experimentally, feeling a bit of wariness when it smell sweet and sugary. You couldn’t help but wonder what the alcohol content in it was, but Nico didn’t seem to care. She chugged down her glass, looking downright pleased with herself. You made sure to take a few bites of the food they had laid out on the table--sandwiches, probably from the fridge in Nico’s van.

Griffon sniffed the glass too, making a face of concern as he asked, “Uhhh you ladies sure this is a good idea?” He ruffled his feathers when Nico skewered him with a glare, adding hastily, “Not trying to spoil any fun, just wondering if giving the girlie here booze after a bad experience is a good idea.”

Griffon sounded like the only reasonable one in the room then, at least the only one that wasn’t unconscious. Had you been at least semi-reasonable at that moment, you would have agreed with him. But..you weren’t. The episode with the Void left you in a very bad state of mind, body hankering for some relief of any kind. You hadn’t gotten drunk in a long time, but you felt like you needed at that moment, just to help forget the pain and loneliness of that dark place. Throwing caution to the wind, you tossed back the whole glass, eliciting a laugh from Nico. She seemed pretty pleased, all things considered. Whatever the booze was was sweet, delicious...strong. The taste of alcohol was definitely present.

Lady let out an impressed sound, already on her second glass as well.

“Look at you go,” She hummed, propping her feet up on the coffee table, “You sure you’re old enough to drink?”

You could not handle your booze well, you knew that already. Another ghost of a memory came back, not from your time as a human. From one of your dimensional trips, you went drinking with them as well. Your body composition was the textbook definition of a lightweight. One cup in and it was already warming your stomach, the sensation of being buzzed going right to your head. You shook yourself a bit to try and ward it off, letting Nico pour you another cup. You probably should have eaten more before delving into the sauce, so to speak. But your brain already wasn’t at peak decision making, and it was just gonna get worse. Drinking was definitely breaking down a lot of the walls you had up, bringing out your honesty.

Which was bad. But you didn’t care.

“Mmmm,” You murmured softly, sipping more of the sweet liquid before you replied, “I’m probably older than everyone in this room combined.”

That made the two girls look at you again, Nico blinking in shock. If you hadn’t been so hazy already, you would have seen another look on her face. As if you had confirmed a thought of hers she already had.

“Really?” Lady asked, pulling her legs onto the couch and staring at you with curiosity, “How old are you?”

You had already finished that second glass, which was bad.

“Can’t remember,” You said softly, making sure to take a bite of food and whipping the cup to the side when Griffon tried to grab it from you. He seemed to have the good sense that you probably shouldn’t be drinking. Still you continued, unbeknownst to you that you were saying things that probably shouldn’t have been said, “I lost track a long time ago...the Void doesn’t...really have time…”

“The Void?” Lady blinked.

Griffon snapped his beak near the edge of the glass again, making you sigh lightly.

“You’re making bad choices, toots,” He said in your ear, nudging your face lightly as he sighed, “You sure you wanna be doing this? I already told you I can’t take more than one dumbass.”

You let out a low hum, feeling very strange now that alcohol was working into your system.

“Just make sure I don’t kiss V or something,” You said, voice just loud enough for the girls to hear, “Just promise you’ll stop me.”

Before Griffon could reply, Nico smirked, waving that bottle in her hand as she addressed you.

“Got the hots for the poet, Y/N?” She gave a low chuckle, tossing back some snacks and chewing lightly, “Didn’t think he was your type.”

Lady frowned, letting the mechanic pour her another glass, “Pump the brakes. Can we get back to that ‘Void’ comment?” She asked, eyes, still locked on you as you enjoyed the end of your second glass of wine--was it wine? You had no idea, “What is the Void?”

You gripped the glass, brain even more hazy as you completely ignored the sandwich sitting on the table. All good sense gone, it would seem. The feeling of zero restraint felt good, it definitely was helping make the pain go away. But...it was also magnifying it. You wouldn’t say you were the loud, obnoxious type while intoxicated. More so...soft. Alcohol made you honest, quiet, and helped take a lot of the walls away. Griffon was pretty anxious about your fight against sobriety, but you couldn’t really give a damn about that at the moment. Lady had asked you a question, right? You had drank just enough booze to answer her honestly. Way too honestly.

“The Void,” You murmured, eyes half closed as you swirled one last sip of pink liquid at the bottom of the glass, “Is the place I went to the first time I died.”

Both girls stopped dead in their actions, gaze lifting to stare at you in shock. Griffon paused too, a startled look in his eyes as your gaze drifted down, staring at Shadow’s head on your lap. You gently scratched their ears with your free hand, the sound of their purring very nice in your intoxicated state. You kind of wanted Nico to pour you more, which luckily she did when you set the glass down--she didn’t say anything, which would have made you anxious before you had started drinking.

Lady was the first person to speak. She gently reached out, laying a hand on your arm as you started drinking the third glass.

“Y/N?” She murmured, eyes filled with something akin to motherly concern, “You’ve died before?”

You nodded, meeting her gaze with a hazy one of your own.

“More than once,” Your words were only slightly slow, hand still firmly gripping the glass, “Can’t remember how many times.”

Nico let out a low sound of confusion, hopping off the couch so she could scoot over to you. She sat by your feet and Lady’s, bumping Shadow a bit as she crossed her legs.

“What do you mean you’ve died more than once?” She asked, eyes alight with fascination and worry as she looked up at you, “Is it some reincarnation bullshit?”

You shook your head, eyes still half closed as you swirled the glass again. Griffon let out a nervous trill, seeming ready to grab it at any moment in case you dropped it.

“No,” You mumbled, “A lot more complicated. The Deity sends me to these places and if I die I just get sent back. Minus...the first time I went there.”

You were making this a lot more confusing than it needed to be, it showed on their faces.

“Can you explain?” Nico asked, grasping her bottle of booze between her hands, “Y/N..what does all that mean?”

Loose Lips. You had loose lips.

You settled in the chair a bit, letting out a light “oof” when Shadow leapt up, determined to sit in your lap. The cat was very, very heavy, but you didn’t mind, letting them rest their head on your other shoulder. That was fine, you could drink around them. Shadow seemed able to sense you were off, gently licking your cheek until you gave a soft smile. You appreciated the sentiment, though in your hazy of intoxication it kind of made you sad, like you didn’t deserve it.

You settled on beginning your explanation, eyes still a bit blurry as you rested your chin on Shadow’s head.

“The Void,” You breathed, hiccuping softly as you continued, “Is a place where broken souls go to die.”

Your words made both girls pause, shock written on their faces again.

You continued, “When I was a human...life must’ve been bad,” You closed your eyes, feeling Shadow let out a low, cat-like sound, “Very bad. No heaven or hell for me, nope...the space in between spaces. A place where...tormented souls go. Too broken for reincarnation or the afterlife,” You took a sip of alcohol, eyes half opening again, “My Deity found me there, erased my memories but left the lingering...emotions, feelings. And now I...I serve him, serve his wills and wishes. No relative made a deal, that...was me.”

Both girls looked quiet, like they didn’t know what to say. Now that you were pouring everything out, you didn’t seem to know to stop. You didn’t like deceiving people, you didn’t like the half-truth bullshit you were forced into. What was the point of lying if these people would end up not caring anyway? You knew you were different, you always had been. You gripped the cup tighter, eyes drifting to the side as a sad smile tilted your lips. Things always had a way of falling apart, of reminding you that you didn’t belong--you were born once, your time to find your place was long gone. That world didn’t work, why should it now?

“It’s funny,” You mumbled, feeling Griffon’s slow breathes by your ear, “Gave up everything...just for one more chance at happiness. But no matter how much I break myself...it never changes anything. I just...move on, back to the Void each time...forgotten. I want to go home, but there’s...no home to go to. It’s a weird feeling.”

You had no sooner stopped speaking when you felt Lady’s arms wrap around you, half pulling you and Shadow out of the chair. You blinked in shock, Shadow letting out a low huff as you both were suddenly pressed to Lady’s chest. A tender embrace. You didn’t know how to react, if you should even move. You...hadn’t been hugged in so long, especially not like this--Lady felt like a mom, gently stroking your hair as she sat down on the arm of the chair to hold you. You felt your breath hitch, hand slipping with the glass. Griffon had been ready, he swooped down to catch it, setting it down on the coffee table with a light trill.

You wanted to cry. You wanted to cry. Your eyes teared up, breaths coming shallowly as you wrapped your hands around her waist. It felt nice, foreign. You spent so much time comforting others you couldn’t remember the last time someone went out of their way to comfort you.

Nico put a hand on your leg, giving you a rueful smile as tears started tracking down your face.

“Aww shit,” She tsked, letting out a light, emotional laugh as she scooted even closer, “Our girl here is a sad drunk. Shoulda known.”

Lady patted your head as you continued to sniffle, voice very firm as she said, “It’s okay. Everything is okay,” She wiped away some of your tears, eyes very soft as she said, “You ever need a place to call home, you come with me. I’m your family now. No fighting it.”

“Bullshit!” Nico huffed, crossing her arms while you blinked in shock, “Nero and I already got dibs on her...once he wakes up at least. Kyrie’s parent’s house has plenty of room.”

Lady let out a light sigh, “Can I at least visit?”

Nico chuckled, chugging wine straight from the bottle, “Sure, visit all you wanna. Like the weird, out of town aunt.”

Shadow, pressed between two sets of breasts, seemed pretty content. You were feeling strange, unable to process their words but...it made you warm, comfortable. That sense of loneliness diminished, leaving you feeling safe and contented in Lady’s embrace. The feeling of belonging was very hesitant, but blooming slowly over time--you didn’t want to get your hopes up, not after every time you were crushed before. But Lady seemed honest, and so did Nico. The idea of staying with them wasn’t a bad one...it was tender, nice. Like a dream, only in reality.

One you hoped was real.

Griffon let out a light huff, perched on the back of the couch now and eyeing you with that golden gaze.

“Told you guys it was a bad idea,” He huffed, ruffling out his feathers, “Now she’s cryin’. V’s gonna throw a fit when he wakes up and sees you got her plastered.”

“Mister goth can shove it,” Nico huffed, refilling your glass and handing it back to you, “We’re gonna get her drunk enough to bypass the sad phase.”

“That’s not how it works!” Griffon screeched.

Nico chuckled, flicking a pretzel at the flustered bird. He caught it in his beak, crunching with a light glare.

“Loosen up, feathers,” She chortled, looking a little pink around the edges now. She was clearly holding her liquor better than you, “Girl needs to have fun sometimes--maybe you should let her smooch the sleeping prince. Bet it would perk him right up.”

Griffon shook his head in annoyance, rolling his eyes back as he replied, “You ladies are such a bad influence. I promised Y/N I wouldn’t let her do that,” He looked at you--if a bird could smirk, that would be the expression he had, “As much as she wants to.”

You hiccuped again, wiping your eyes and pointing at him, “Zip it, bird.”

Lady let out a low hum, still resting on the arm of the chair, “You have a thing for the mysterious type, huh?”

Griffon huffed, settling on the table and tilting his head, “They’ve both been ogling each other, since fucking day one. I wanna pull my feathers out, they’re both so fucking stupid,” He let out a light groan, “Especially Shakespeare. Never seen him stumble over a lady before.”

You hiccuped, frowning at the frazzled demon.

“Stop talking about me like I’m not here,” You mumbled, leaning on Lady a bit, “And it's not...like that.”

Nico let out a low, amused hum, tipped the bottle back and gulping more down, “Doesn’t mean you don’t want it to be that way. Goth seems to care a whole lot about you, it was his idea to stay behind and wait. He was pretty fuckin’ stubborn.”

That made your face heat up, much to your embarrassment. You liked the idea of him caring too much.

“Aww,” Lady cooed, squeezing your cheeks, “What an honest reaction! It’s okay to admit when you like someone, Y/N.”

You let out a light huff, “So what if I do?” You hid behind Shadow a bit, tugging the cat further against you as you added, “He’s kind...I think he’s been through a lot, he needs someone who cares.”

Nico let out a sound of agreement, nodding her head vigorously, “Sure sure. Not sayin’ I don’t think it would be good for him, cause it would. He needs a good girl in  his life to shake him out of his shell.”

Lady nodded as well, sipping her drink as she added, “Just know if he hurts you, I’ll kill him.”

That made you laugh a bit, her sing-song tone making you smile. She sounded like the big sister you never had, and her protectiveness was definitely welcome. Both girls started chatting about the situation, the girl talk bringing back on a strange, nostalgic feel. You couldn’t remember the last time you hung out with some girls, talked, and drank. It felt so strange and normal, you couldn't really grasp onto the sensation. It felt...right, in a way. Despite your sad, crying from earlier you now felt a bit of energy settling in you, carefree now that the revelation was off your shoulders.

When you tuned back into the conversation, Lady and Nico were still discussing the sleeping poet.

“I’m just sayin’,” Nico huffed, tapping her nails on the table rhythmically, “Skinny guys can be packin’. Have you checked his feet?”

Lady smirked, leaning back on the armchair and replying, “Ask me nicely and I’ll go over and take one for the team.”

You giggled lightly, leaning a head on Lady’s shoulder as you murmured, “He has big hands, does that count?”

Griffon let out a staged gasp, narrowing his eyes on you.

“Thought you were jokin’ about that hand fetish, toots,” He clicked his tongue, sounding heavily skeptical of you, “First a feeding fetish, now this. You’re a nasty, naughty girl.”

You huffed, “I don’t have a feeding fetish. Just look at him, he needed to eat.”

Nico let out a light laugh, everyone looking over at the poor, unsuspecting poet. You were damn lucky he hadn’t woken up yet, still peacefully snoozing away with his head pressed to the pillow. Those hands were resting near his body, his fingers long, elegant. You had to admit, especially in that drunken haze, that you had a thing for his hands. The thought made you sigh, resisting the urge to fan your face. Maybe drinking wasn’t the best idea, you were getting kind of dizzy and...well, giddy. Past the phase of sad, still without boundaries it would seem. It was a good thing you asked Griffon to keep an eye on you, cause you could have definitely kissed the poet.

“Boy does need a sandwich,” Nico tsked, eyeing V’s skinny frame, “He also needs some pussy too.”

Lady choked on wine, coughing while you stared at the mechanic in astonishment, “Nico!”

Nico shrugged, leaning back against the couch with a single eyebrow wiggling up and down, “What? I speak the truth, boy needs a good lay. Way too stuck up his own ass.”

Lady, shockingly nodded at that, clearing her throat quietly after her coughing fit, “I have to second that. Though you’re a sweet girl, Y/N. Don’t want him using you for some passing sex.”

You snorted, “I highly doubt it’s the case. But I appreciate it.”

Nico chugged the remainder of her bottle of wine, swaying as she rose to her feet. She let out a disappointed sigh, cracking her knuckles after setting the glass bottle down on the table with a firm thud. Both you and Lady looked up at her when she did so, watching as she started walking toward the door. She was a little tipsy, stumbling a few times and catching herself on a wall with a light snicker. You smiled--you had never seen Nico in such a state before, the mechanic always seemed pretty focused on work and put together. It was fun, at least to you, to have a some time not spent working with all of them.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Griffon said, huffing lightly as he watched her struggle to open a simple doorknob.

Nico grinned, turning to wave at you and Lady.

“To get more booze.”

(V POV)

~ Few hours earlier~

You still hadn’t woken up from your sleep, which was heavily upsetting to the poet.

He was sitting beside you in his chair, occasionally watching your face to see if you stirred. It looked like you were heavily sleeping now, not starring with glassy black eyes anymore. Somewhere around the six hour mark, you had cleared of your symptoms, eyes closing and body relaxing onto the bed. Everyone took it as a good sign. But that was a couple hours ago, and now you were still asleep, more than likely regaining the energy you lost or repairing the damage the whole ordeal had caused. V made sure to stay by you for most of the time, only rising to stretch a few times or help Nico when she requested it. Now he was sitting again, listening to the two women quietly chat and occasionally watching Nero toss back a few energy drinks.

V had a lot on his mind. The events of the previous day had left him...hesitating, wondering what he should do. He valued your companionship, valued the closeness to you he had gained...but it put you in danger. You were willing to break yourself to protect him. You did break yourself. But he didn’t want that, wanted you safe from that kind of thing. Guilt had already been gnawing at him, but now even more was piled on. It wasn’t your fault, he blamed himself for not being strong enough. As always, his actions could have risked your life, it caused harm to your well-being. Maybe it would be best if he put some distance, just to keep you safe.

Nero walked over upon seeing V pondering, leaning against the wall nearby and holding a can of something that looked sugary and full of caffeine.

“What’s got those wheels turnin’?” He asked lightly, sliding his gaze over to you and giving you a once over, “She’s looking alright now, you should be happy.”

V let out a low hum, eyes half closed as he stared ahead and leaned on his cane. He didn’t know why, but talking to Nero felt...nice. Easy. The boy was very talkative, but he was alright with listening too as needed. His concern was nice, at least.

“It doesn’t change that my actions got her hurt,” He murmured, gripping the top of the cane and closing his eyes, “Perhaps it would be safer if she traveled with Nico.”

Nero visibly paused, can half raised to his mouth as he slid his eyes over to the poet. V wasn’t paying him a lot of attention, not noticing how Nero rose a slow brow. The white-haired boy clicked his tongue lightly, sliding past the poet to sit down on the bed right next to your sleeping form. V bit back a protest--you weren’t jostled a lot, and it definitely seems like you weren’t waking anyway. Eyes still closed, light colored lashes resting on those soft cheeks. V wanted to reach out and stroke your face, but it was highly inappropriate behavior, he knew that. But it felt so wrong not to try and do anything to comfort you after you  did everything for him.

“Hey, uh, V?” Nero said, putting a single hand on the goth’s shoulders, “How ‘bout I give you some much needed advice?”

V blinked, unsure of where the boy was going with his train of thought. Still, he replied, “Certainly.”

Nico gave a crooked smile, a bit of an exasperated look in his eyes.

“That is the dumbest idea,” He said slowly, carefully, but without heat, “That I have ever heard. And as a committed, happy man in a relationship with a wonderful woman, I’m gonna tell you why.”

V opened his mouth to reply, but not sure what to say to that.

Nero took it as an opportunity to continue, leaning back on the bed to look at you, “Take it from me, buddy. Leaving her behind would be literally the most hurtful thing you can do, and that’s so not cool,” He looked back at the poet, slate blue eyes serious for once as he met V’s gaze, “You made a mistake, sure, whatever. That’s fine. But don’t do something that’s gonna punish her just because you’re scared. You stand up, brush off the dirt, and you strive to do better. Cause I’m gonna tell you now, nothing that you say will ever convince her that it isn’t her fault, she’s gonna blame herself for your hurt pride, and that’s unfair.”

V looked away, hating how transparent he appeared in that moment. Was what he was thinking really that obvious? He’d like to hope not, but the way Nero was watching him made him think the kid was reading his exact thoughts. V griped the cane, gritting his teeth a bit as he looked down at the floor. Nero was right, he knew the boy’s words held the truth. You took on so many burdens, you went out of your way to help and do your best in every scenario. Distancing himself from you, especially after all that you had gone through on his behalf...he knew that it was wrong. Still, the thought of you getting hurt again was so unsettling.

Nero seemed to sense the poet battling with himself, letting out a slow breath.

“Y’know,” He said in a soft tone, taking on a far away look for a moment, “Kyrie was put in danger once, and the first time around I wasn’t able to protect her. She was put into a terrible situation and I wasn’t able to stop it,” He puffed out his cheeks with a breath of air, scratching the back of his head as he added, “But I never thought of leaving her because of my own weakness. I brushed off the dirt, I moved forward. I saved her, and I continue to strive to do better. For her.”

He slid his gaze back to the poet, giving him a light pat on the back and a crooked, encouraging smile.

“So cheer up,” He said simply, rising to his feet again, “Know I’ve got you back, and I know if anyone is gonna learn from his mistakes and move past them, its you.”

V met his gaze, staring for a brief moment as an understanding silence passed between the two. V gripped his cane tighter, letting out a slow breath from his lungs as he looked away.

“...Thank you, Nero.”

~Present time~

V awoke with the start, jerked out of sleep by the sound of something crashing to the floor.

His eyes whipped around, noticing right away that he was now on the bed instead of you. Panic hadn’t even had a chance to bloom before he saw you, curled up in the armchair on Lady’s lap. You were smiling and giggling, the sight balm on his wounded soul as he quickly sat up in place. Lady was giggling too, hell there was a lot of giggling going on in this room at that moment. Upon further inspection, several things continued to click in place--One, a couple empty bottles of wine littered the coffee table now. Two, you were very pink in the cheeks. Three, Nico was sitting cross legged on the floor, starting with a disgruntled expression and a broken vase sitting on the tile nearby. It looked like she had tossed a metal arm at some point and hit it. That was what woke the poet up.

Nero was awake now as well, sitting up at the dining table with a disgruntled expression, the indentation of his metal arm on his cheek and head--it also looked like someone had written “Dead Weight” on his forehead hastily with a pen. He was frowning at the scene, confusion in his eyes as he probably registered everything V had. Shadow was curled up on the couch, meeting the poet’s gaze with a low growl, alerting the other girls to look up at him.

V blinked, feeling a twinge of unease now that three female gazes were trained on him. The look in your eyes made his heart beat faster--you looked delighted to see him, though guessing by the empty bottle...alcohol was at play here. V didn’t know how to feel about that.

“Ahhh, shit,” Nico hiccuped, southern drawl slurred as she stared at V, “We woke up sleepin’ beauty.”

V felt his brow raise, coming to his feet with the use of his cane. He kept his eyes on you, taking a few steps down the stairs as he addressed the drunken group of females.

“When did she wake up?” He said in a displeased tone, plucking an empty bottle from the table and sniffing it, “Are you women drunk?”

“As a skunk,” Nico quipped cheerfully, raising another bottle that still had booze--it was pink, whatever it was, “She woke up like...an hour ago. Or two. Or three. Was it four?”

V let out a light sigh, rubbing a hand down his face. Things had escalated pretty quickly from the time he had slept to now. He looked around, frowning when he didn’t see his second familiar.

“Where is Griffon?” He asked, eyeing the plastered women warily.

“Over here…!” Griffon hissed. V turned, seeing him perched on top of the cabinets, squinting down with annoyed eyes. V rose a brow at him, tilting his head as he addressed the bird. Griffon shook out his feathers, letting out a sharp squawk before snapping, “And before you ask, I’m here because Nico kept wanting to pull out my feathers while drunk. Nowhere is safe, hide your keys, hide your kids, hide your genitals…!”

Nero yawned at the dinner table, standing up and rubbing his red cheek with a groan. He walked up to V’s side, an exasperated look as he glared at the mechanic on the floor.

“What the hell, Nico?” He asked, shaking his head lightly, “I leave you alone for a few hours and you get the girl shit-faced? What do you have to say for yourself?”

She shrugged, taking another sip of booze. Nero tried to snatch the bottle, but she was somehow faster.

“Back off, you dork ass loser,” She huffed, squinting at him and pointing a finger, “We’re having girl time…!”

You let out a low giggle at that, still firmly tucked against Lady’s chest. Lady seemed the least intoxicated of the three, or at least she was very low-key about it. V saw her smile, squeezing you against her with a light embrace, totally smitten. V scratched the back of his head--what the hell had he missed? You met his gaze again, eyes sparkling with mirth and obvious intoxication. V couldn’t help it, he gave a wry smile back, concern softening at the sight of you having an obvious good time. Though your eyes did look a little puffy, like you had been crying earlier--it was either that or just another sign of the alcohol.

“Oops,” You murmured, eyeing him and blinking a bit, “I think V is upset--are you upset?”

He thought your eyes started to tear up, making him blink in shock and confusion.

Nico let out a low noise of warning, trying to rise to her feet but stumbling all over herself. Nero caught her, letting out an exasperated sigh as Nico slurred, “Uh-oh, she’s goin’ sad again. You better shut that shit down, pretty boy.”

“Bed. Now.” Nero commanded before V could move, looking over at all the girls with an exasperated smile.

Nico huffed, “You can’t make me.”

“I’ll call Kyrie,” Nico replied, tugging her toward the door to her van, “She’ll make you.”

“That threat doesn’t work on me…!” She struggled, letting out a shriek of annoyance as she tried to reach for the arm on the floor, “I have to finish my repairs on Sweet Surrender…!”

“For fuck’s sake Nico, let it go,” Nero groaned, lifting her up by her waist and dragging her, “Why that arm of all of them?! Just stop strugglin’ and get your ass to bed!”

“I wouldn’t have to make that arm if you could find the clitoris, dumbass!” Nico’s voice faded with the closing of the door, their arguing cut short. V let out a light sigh, turning in enough time to see Lady pulling you to your feet. You were swaying a bit, wiping your eyes sleepily and easily losing your balance. Lady caught you when you started to fall, both of you giggling as you steadied. V was about to move forward, concern prickling in the back of his mind as he watched this happen. How does one go about handling intoxicated women? He couldn’t ever remember being in this situation before.

“Bed time, sweetie.” Lady hummed, eyeing V with an amused look as she suddenly pushed you in his direction. You squeaked as he suddenly caught you, your weight resting against his long form. What was Lady doing? V held you up with one hand, looking at the woman with a confused expression and heart hammering in his chest. You were warm against him, a far cry from what you had been while ill earlier. So very alive, healthy now. Your hair looked freshly cleaned, drying in waves over your shoulders. If V wasn’t mistaken, he caught the scent of mint and rosemary--it must have been the shampoo Nico uses.

“I’m going to bed,” Lady yawned, lying down on the couch with a small grin, “Make sure she gets to sleep, okay V?”

She left no room for argument--V definitely sensed shenanigans here.

Regardless, he clicked his tongue, wrapping an arm around you to help carry you to the bed. Griffon launched himself from the cabinets, latching onto your shoulders to help. You had your eyes half closed, blinking blearily and putting up no fight at all, the opposite of Nico. You also let out a light sigh, leaning your cheek against his chest, making the poet realize he was still without his vest-coat. The sensation of your lips brushing his skin made him feel like he had to clear his throat, gently setting you down on the bed.

“Are you alright?” He murmured, tilting your chin up gently to get a look at you, “You’re flushed. Absolutely wasted.”

You smiled lightly, closing your eyes and saying quietly, “I’m okay,” You then paused, face slowly switching to what he recognized as guilt as you let your gaze drift away, “I…I’m sorry.”

V’s lips parted, his expression softening a bit as he stared down at you, “Why are you apologizing?” He asked gently, cupping your jaw a bit to turn your gaze back to him.

Your eyes teared up, a sight that made his heart ache terribly.

“Everyone had to wait a day because of me,” You hiccuped lightly, words slightly slurred, “And I...I lied to you, earlier. I’m...sorry.”

V paused, breath catching as Nero’s earlier words echoed in his head. No matter what he said you were going to blame yourself. Clearly you were, the guilt was very obvious on your face while you were drunk. You looked like you were about to cry, eyes a little misty and a definite look of vulnerability on your face. V couldn’t remember a time when he had seen you like this, on the verge of tears and so sensitive. And soft. He could tell a few of your walls had been broken down, everything was different after the entire ordeal. Something about it made him want to draw you into his arms and hold you, cradle you to his chest and dry your tears. He could feel Griffon watching you both, unusually quiet from where he perched on the bed post. But...still.

V tilted your head back up, wiping some of the tears from your eyes with his thumbs. He pressed his lips to your forehead, just like did earlier. Your skin was warm, and soft. You sucked in a sharp breath, shoulders relaxing a bit and eyes closing gently. V thought he heard Griffon chuckle, but the bird looked away, humming lightly like he was minding his own business. He definitely wasn’t. Still, V tried to ignore him, pulling back from you softly so he could murmur in your ear.

“It was my error,” His voice was low, breathy, “Please don’t worry yourself--we all needed today, I think. And tomorrow is another day.”

You let out a low murmur, cheeks adorably pink as you replied to him, “O..Okay…”

V smiled softly, smoothing some of your hair away. He then turned, walking to the other side of the bed so he could lie down beside you--luckily this bed was big enough to accommodate you both easily. He stretched out his form, reaching out a hand to grasp your hand and tug lightly. He expected you to lay down further away from him, facing the opposite direction as you had that first night. But you, as always, were full of surprises.

You turned, eyes already half closed as you slid under the covers, directly facing him. You looked completely out of it, eyes a bit hazy as you laid your head down on the pillow..inches from his own. He blinked, breath catching lightly as his heart pounded in his chest. Somehow, being this close to you was...he couldn’t describe it.

You were still holding his hand, pressing it gently to the underside of your face as your eyes began to close, cradling it tenderly. V couldn’t stop himself, he stroked his thumb over your cheek. You looked so gentle, and peaceful. A far cry from the pain and fear earlier, it set his heart at ease. He wanted to say something to you, but he didn’t know what. He wanted to bridge the gap between you, but didn’t know how. He was at a loss, unable to shake the feeling of urgency his mind was telling him.

Griffon curled up on the bed beside his head, seeing his expression and letting out a low chortle. He leaned over, hissing in his ear, “Look at you, lover boy. Like a deer frozen in the headlights,” He nudged his back with a claw, adding in an encouraging whisper, “She’s had a rough day, lover boy. She was cryin’ earlier. She can use the support right now.” His tone had a meaningful edge, borderline a warning for the conflicted poet.

You had been crying? He desperately hated the fact that he hadn’t been awake to help you, but he couldn’t change the past. He could only change what happened now.

So he swallowed his fear, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you closer. You let out a light murmur of confusion, now right against him and blinking blearily. Your hands cradled between your bodies, pressed to his chest, both of his arms holding you. The embrace felt right, warm, and gentle. He rested his chin in your hair, inhaling the light scent of mint and rosemary as he counted your breaths. He thought he heard you let out a soft sound of relief, body relaxing against his and face nuzzling into your chest. You were smiling now, he could feel that, your gentle breathing brushing his skin with every passing second.

“Goodnight.” You mumbled softly, legs gently stretching against his.

V felt his heart calming, he knew you could hear it. He felt Shadow curl up behind you, then Griffon behind him--both seemed pretty content as well.

And for once in his life, so was he.

“Goodnight, little sparrow.”

Read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18136193/chapters/43165127

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Tagged: @silentwhispofhope @nightshadow4713 @just-call-me-no-name @slightlylunatic @efiicitia

[softmintmochi]

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

Warnings: alcohol consumption, mentions of depression and suicidal thoughts, plans of suicide (doesn't happen though), unprotected sex, fingering, oral sex (m receiving), riding, dirty talk

Summary: On the night you feel like giving up, one man makes you feel more alive than you've ever felt.

A/N: Hello everyone. So, this is an os that I wrote with one of my favorite songs, A Little Death by The Neighbourhood, in mind. This does have mentions of suicide and plans of suicide in it because it was the way I took into account the lyrics "Make me feel like I am breathing, feel like I am human." I do not condone suicide obviously and if you do have those thoughts please seek professional help. I just wanted to put that out there because there were literally so many ideas going through my head on how to use those lyrics, even having her as a ghost like some AHS Hotel shit so yeah, this is what I thought was best.

Rain droplets patter against your windshield as the wipers push them out of the way. Driving in the night during a storm isn’t the best idea probably, but you have only one thing on your mind, and that’s the driving force to keep your foot on the pedal. Your eyes scan the left side of the road in search of your destination, and once you see the bright red Vacancy sign, you turn your blinker on, turning into the motel parking lot. It was a small building, only a few of the lights on, and you thought it looked perfect. You’ve thought about this a lot, and this seems like the best place to do it.

You turn your car off and grab your bag from the passenger seat, opening the door quickly and running through the rain to the main office. The bell on the door jingles as you stand in front of the closing door, wiping your feet on the mat before making your way to the desk. You shiver as the cool air hits your now soaked clothes, chilling your to the bone. You look around at the run down office, noticing how dingy the beige wallpaper was after decades of no proper care, the possibly once bright orange carpet aged a light brown. “Can I help you?” The concierge asks, his posture and tone giving you the idea that he’d rather be anywhere else in the world. “Yes um, can I just get a room for the night, please?” You ask, avoiding eye contact. He looks you up and down before clicking his tongue, reaching behind him to grab a key. “You can take room 21. And I’ve seen your type before. Just don’t leave a mess, I hate cleaning up after shit like that.” He sighs, and your eyes widen. Did he really know what you came for and not care? This must really be it. Truly no one cares if you go through with it.

You give a small smile and take the key from him before turning and sulking towards the door. Before you get there you hear the ding of the bell, and you gasp as someone rushes past you, bumping your shoulder. “Sorry.” A deep voice mumbles as you stand there. You look up to see who bumped into you, but as he stands at the desk you can only see the back of him, his black leather jacket slick from the rain and his reddish hair dripping. “There’s a leak in my room right over my bed.” The man complains to the concierge. “So sleep on the floor. What do you want me to do about it?” The concierge sighs, crossing his arms.

You know you probably shouldn’t be eavesdropping, but the rain looked like it was coming down harder than before, and you’d rather not run through it. “Don’t you own this shit hole? I want a new room. One that doesn’t have a wet moldy mattress.” The man shouts, startling you. “Fine, your highness. Take room 22 and get out of my office. Don’t come complain about anything else.” The concierge sighs, the jingle of keys sounding before you hear heavy footsteps heading your way. “Are you gonna stand there all night, girlie? I’d like to get back to my show in peace.” The concierge calls out to you in annoyance. You turn back to look at him, and the man is standing next to you, and you finally get a good look at his face, and you’re blown away. He’s absolutely gorgeous, his sharp jawline and icy gaze tough, yet soft lips and squishy cheeks so cute.

“Do you even know how to talk to a lady? Jesus Christ what a dick. You’re waiting for the rain, right?” The man asks you, looking you in the eye, and you gulp loudly, nodding. “Figured. Come on. You shouldn’t have to deal with a scumbag like him.” He says, taking his jacket off and draping it over you. “Fuck you, kid!” The concierge shouted, receiving a threatening look from the man. “Go to hell, dickhead.” He replies, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. “What room are you in?” He asks. “Uh, um, 21.” You stutter, the closeness making you a bit uncomfortable. You’ve never been a very physical person, so human contact is kind of not your thing. “Room 21. Well then, I guess that means we’re neighbors.” He smiles sweetly.

He holds the jacket over you, running with you through the pouring rain, up the stairs and down the hallway to your door. You quickly unlock the door, stepping inside with him. You sigh in relief as you’re finally out of the storm. You look up to see them man catching his breath, his white T-shirt completely soaked through. Thanks to him your clothes are only as wet as before. “Th-Thank you.” You stutter, handing him his jacket. “No problem. If you have any problems with the room, please, don’t go to that douche, come to me and I’ll take care of it.” He chuckles. “Why you? Wouldn’t he know more than a guest?” You ask. “Yeah, but if there is a problem I’ll go down there and kick his ass instead of you going down there and getting chewed out.” He smiles. You nod, his kind personality contrasting from his rough exterior.

“Well, I don’t think I’m gonna have anything to complain about really I’m um, only here for the night.” You say, looking at the ground. “Only one night? Well then, I think maybe we should make the most out of this shitty place, don’t you think? I mean, we can’t use the disease ridden hot tub, but I could grab some vodka and Sprite and we can see what the antenna on the tv picks up.” He smiles. You think about it for a minute. A strange man that helps you to your room is now making plans to come back to your room with alcohol to hang out. It seems a little sketchy, but you came here to kill yourself anyway, maybe he’ll just do it for you. “You don’t have anything better to do, do you? Anyone on their way to meet up with you or anything?” He asks. “No, uh, just me. I don’t really have anybody.” You mutter. “Well, now you’ve got me. I’m Yoongi.” He smiles, holding his hand out to you. You take it gently, shaking it. “Y/N.” You reply. “Y/N. Well, Y/N, how about you take a warm shower so you don’t catch a cold while I move my stuff to my new room and then I’ll be over here after that.” He suggests, and you nod. “Great. See you soon.” He smiles and waves before leaving you alone in your dingy room, completely awestruck.

Now that he’s gone you take a look around your room. It’s a bit dirty, but there’s a queen sized bed, so that’s a plus. You grab the spare pajamas you packed just in case you chickened out and head to the bathroom. You flick the light on and are absolutely disgusted. There’s mold on the water pipes, a water stain on the ceiling, and bloodstains in the sink. Looks like you probably weren’t the first one in this room that wanted to end it all. You sigh as you get undressed, turning the water on and trying to get it as hot as possible, which is only lukewarm. So much for a nice hot shower. There’s a couple of tiny dollar store shampoo and conditioner bottles in the rusted shower caddy and an unopened bar of soap. At least the owner does something around this place. You try to relax as much as possible and enjoy your shower, but you’re constantly on edge. This guy, Yoongi, why is he being so nice to you? Does he just want to use you for a quick fuck? No, I’m not pretty enough for that. You think to yourself. If not that, then why does he want to hang out?

Yoongi’s POV

“I’m back.” I call out as I open her door. When I get no answer I get a bit worried. Did she already do it? God, I hope not. I hear the shower running, sighing in relief. I’ve seen too many people like her, and I don’t want another one to go through with it before I can help. She probably didn’t hear me. I see that she left the bathroom door open. She probably didn’t expect me to be back so soon. Without trying I catch a glimpse of her silhouette through the shower door, and I almost gasp audibly. Her figure is perfect. Just my type. No, this isn’t why you’re here. You’re here to show her someone cares about her not to sleep with her. I remind myself. I knock on the door, a shrill shriek sounding from the other side. “It’s just me, Y/N, don’t worry. I’m just letting you know I’m back.” I call out to her. “Oh, o-okay.” She stutters, her voice small. I must’ve really scared her.

I leave her after that, closing the door behind me to give her some privacy as I sit on the edge of the bed, grabbing the remote and trying to find something on the shitty tv. A rerun of Friends pops on, and I figure that’s good enough. I scoot up, kicking my boots off before leaning against the headboard, getting comfortable in the springy bed.

Clean with fresh clothes on you open the bathroom door, seeing Yoongi sitting on your bed watching TV. He turns to look at you and smiles, and you can see that his eyes linger as they notice your pajama shorts. You shift under his gaze, rubbing your hair with the towel to dry it. “Feel better?” He asks. You nod, hanging the towel on the rack. “Good. Now, come sit. Watch Rachel have a baby.” He says, patting the spot next to him before pointing at the tv. You nod, cautiously crawling onto the bed. “Y/N, come on, I don’t bite. You can relax.” He chuckles. You nod, getting comfortable next to him.

He gets up, grabbing the bottles of vodka and Sprite, just as he promised, along with 2 cups. He hands you a cup and pours some Sprite, filling his own cup before holding up the vodka bottle. “Here’s to the start of a great night with a stranger.” He smiles before taking a swig. He hands you the bottle and you do the same, the liquid burning on the way down before you chase it down with the Sprite, a content sigh leaving your lips. “So, Y/N, what brings a beautiful girl like you to a run down motel alone?” He asks. You shift uncomfortably, look towards to end of the bed. “I uh, travel?” You lie, very poorly, but he doesn’t question it. “Me too.” He smiles, taking another sip. “Why do you travel?” You ask. “Well, I’m a musician, and when I travel and get into all different kinds of situations it gives me inspiration for music.” You nod at his words.

“Why don’t you tell me about yourself? Childhood, hobbies, dreams, anything.” He suggests. You think about it for a moment. A total stranger is in your room, interrupting your plans to kill yourself, and is now asking for your life story. Should you tell him? If you do, what do you have to lose? “Well, alright. It’s not very exciting though. Pretty normal childhood, grew up kinda quick when my parents divorced. My mom took us kids and started drinking a lot so I had to basically raise my brother and sister. We were never allowed to see our dad, and he never bothered reaching out. When I was 15 my mom killed herself and we were all put in a foster home. No one wants to adopt a 15 year old, so my brother and sister got adopted while I stayed in the system. A lot of the older kids my age would sneak out at night and hang out in the woods nearby and drink and get into trouble, but not me. I was quiet and alone and no one really cared about me, so I spent my time going to school and working part time. I never really had any friends either. Even after I became an adult I was alone, spending all of my time working so I could survive. I tried reaching out to my brother and sister but apparently my brother uh, he got really depressed and their adopted parents forbid them from talking to me, so he had no one to talk to and…” You trail off, hoping your silence gets the point across.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry. What about your sister?” He asks softly, his hand resting comfortably on your knee. “She doesn’t want to talk to me. She said I abandoned them and hates me now. She said, that’s it’s my fault our brother killed himself.” You sniffle, the memory of your conversation only a week ago causing you to break down, setting your cup aside to sob into your hands. “Y/N, it’s not your fault. None of it was your fault, you had no control over it.” Yoongi cooes, rubbing your back softly. “I did have control. I could’ve at least, you know, tried harder to reach out or something. I could’ve done more.” You sob. “No. You can’t live beating yourself like this. I know it’s difficult, but you need to find things that make you happy and focus on those things. Whenever you get sad, think about the things that make you happy. What makes you happy?” He asks.

“Well, my camera is in my bag. I bring it with me everywhere I go. I like taking pictures, and when I look at them it makes me happy.” You sniffle, pointing at your bag. He gets up, going to your bag, but then you remember what else is in there. “Wait, no. I-I’ll get it.” You shout, but it’s too late. Yoongi stands there, holding your open bag, a sad expression on his face as he examines the contents. “So I was right.” He says, his voice monotone. His words take you by surprise. He was right? Did he assume like the concierge? “Did you not know how you wanted to do it? Jesus Y/N. Pills, a rope, a gun?” He sighs. You look away from him, disappointed in yourself. “Hold on. Here’s your camera. I’ll be right back.” He says, handing you the camera before he opens your door.

“Wait, what are you-” before you can even finish he’s out the door, closing it behind him, taking your bag with him. You get up, running after him, seeing him walk down the hallway towards the stairs. The rain is still pouring heavily as you chase after him, not reaching him until he’s down the stairs. You grab his arm, but it doesn’t deter him at all, still keeping his quick pace. You continue to try and pull on his arm when you see where he’s headed, the garbage bin in the back. “No no no, Yoongi please.” You cry, pulling with all your might. He stops, turning to you with a serious look on his face. “No Y/N. You don’t need any of this. Even if you don’t feel like you have anyone you do. Anyone could care about you. Now that I met you, I care about you. So you don’t need any of this.” He says, breaking out of your grasp and running to the bin, tossing the whole bag inside as you scream. “There. It’s done.” He says, wiping his hands.

“Why did you do that?” You slump to the ground, looking up at him. “Because I said, you don’t need them. You’re not killing yourself, I won’t allow it.” He says, starting to make his way back to the front of the hotel. “That’s not for you to decide, Yoongi! Who are you to tell me what I can and can’t do, huh?” You shout at him, stopping him in his tracks. “You’re just a stranger in a shitty motel that took it upon himself to come to my room, drink, and ask my life fucking story! I don’t know anything about you and here you are throwing my shit away and telling me I have to stay alive in this shitty world and live the most mediocre life imaginable while hating myself every second of it!” You sob, not knowing what’s rolling down your cheeks, the rain or your tears.

He stands there for a second, slowly nodding his head. “I may be a stranger right now, Y/N, but at this moment, I am the closest person that cares about you.” He turns, standing right in front of you, towering over you. “Why though? You don’t know me, why do you care if I live or die?” You ask. “I’ll tell you, but can we please get under some shelter? We’re gonna get sick if we stay out here any longer.” He asks, holding his hand out. You look at it questioningly, and he sighs. “Come on, just trust me. I also need a cigarette and I can’t light up in the rain.” He says. You sigh, taking his hand as you run with him back upstairs, finally out if the rain. He goes into his room for a moment, grabbing two towels and his pack of cigarettes before handing you a towel to dry yourself off. It’s at this point you realize that you’ve know soaked both outfits, and now have nothing dry to wear.

“I care because I was in your place once.” He says, taking a drag of his cigarette. You stand there, looking at him. He had been in your place? “Five years ago I was insanely depressed, working a bunch of end jobs after my parents kicked me out for wanting to be a musician. Working so much I barely had any time for music, and I felt like I gave up on my dream. Like I was a failure. I went to a hotel, planning on ending it. Somewhere my family wouldn’t have to clean it up and that kinda thing, right? I decided to go down to the bar beforehand, get drunk as hell before going through with it, and after a couple of drinks a guy sat down on the stool next to me. He looked a bit younger than me, said his name was Namjoon. We talked for a long time, he was so wise for his age. We talked about anything and everything, and to my surprise, he just said ‘Don’t do it’. It surprised me, and when I looked at him, he just smiled at me. He said I looked the way his sister did before she killed herself, and he felt bad that he didn’t do anything to help her. So, he started going around to popular suicide places and talking people out of it, to make up for it.”

His story breaks and warms your heart, and you nod, not knowing exactly how to respond to that. “After all of that I became a pretty popular musician, and use that money to drive around the country, staying at hotels and anyone that strikes me as suicidal, I talk to so they know they aren’t alone. That’s one of the reasons I started talking to you, and that’s why I won’t allow you to kill yourself. You’re too beautiful to let it go to waste.” He says, and you look at him with wide eyes. He looks over to you and smirks, a blush forming on your cheeks. “Come on, let’s go inside.” He says, flicking his cigarette bud before placing his hand on the small of your back, leading you back into your room.

You sit at the edge of the bed, and he pulls up a chair from the small desk, sitting in front of you. “Do you call all the suicidal girls beautiful?” You sniffle, still crying a little. He looks at you, smiling. “No.” He tells you. You look into each other’s eyes, your heart racing. “Y/N, what can I do to help you? What do you want most in the world right now?” He asks, taking your hand in his. You think about it, sighing before you speak. “I wanna feel alive. I wanna feel like I’m breathing. I wanna feel like I’m human.” You say, looking at his hand over yours. “I think I know how to help, if you don’t mind.” He whispers, rubbing your hand with his thumb, his touch setting off a raging fire in you.

He leans forward, his lips barely touching yours, making you only crave him more. “Yoongi…” You whisper, and he finally closes the gap, you closing your eyes as he stands you up, wrapping his arms around your waist, holding your body close to his. He quickly licks your bottom lip, practically prying your lips apart to deepen the kiss. You moan, your noise only being swallowed by his mouth, your fingers gripping the soaked fabric of his t-shirt. His chapped lips move against yours, your tongue wetting them, making them softer the more you kiss him. The taste of stale cigarettes invades your mouth, but you don’t care. It’s his taste, and that's all you need right now. He is the only the that matters at this moment.

His fingers trace up your spine, leaving goosebumps in their wake as they reach the back of your neck, tangling in the still damp strands of your hair. He gently tugs, a soft gasp escaping your lips as his kisses trail down to your neck, a moan leaving him as the scent of the lavender body wash invades his nostrils. His teeth graze your tender skin, your nails digging into his bicep as you bite your lip, trying to hold back your sounds. Try as you might, he doesn’t let you stay quiet, sucking harshly on your neck and leaving a nice mark.

His calloused fingers slide under your shirt, grazing over your cold skin before raising the fabric over your head and tossing it to the side. Next is your bra, his large hands cupping your breasts as you arch into them, the coolness of them making your nipples harden. He backs you up until the back of your knees hit the bed, causing you to fall back onto it. His fingers hook under your waistband, tugging off your shorts, your panties coming off with them. You lay there, bare under his gaze, shifting uncomfortably as his stare lingers too long for your liking.

“Darling, your looks could kill. You’re gorgeous. And to think, you were about to destroy this beautiful body.” He groans, leaning over you, placing kisses all over your skin. “You’re lying. I’ve never been beautiful.” You turn your head, a sad expression taking over on your face. “I’m not lying. I’ve never seen anyone as beautiful as you. I promise you, I’ve never been this hard just seeing someone naked.” He smirks, sliding between your legs and grinding his clothed bulge against your bare core.

“Touch me, Yoongi. Please.” You beg, his hand caressing your hip. “I am touching you. Where do you want me to touch you, baby?” He smirks teasingly. You whine, knowing he understands. “I want you to touch me,” you grab his hand, bringing it down to cup your core “there.” You whimper. “You want me to touch you here? Well, I have no problem with that.” He smiles, his middle finger tracing over your slit. “How about you scoot up for me though? Lay your head on the pillows and get comfy.” He suggests, and you nod, doing as he says.

The bed shifts next to you, lips attaching to your neck again as one of his legs tangles with yours, prying your legs open to give him better access to where you crave him the most. His hand runs down your body, fingers dipping past your slit as you shiver in anticipation. “So wet, baby. Is it from the rain, or from me?” He smirks before pressing his lips to yours, his finger tracing over your hole. You whimper as you move your hips, hoping your movements get your wants across. Apparently he does, his middle finger pushing inside of you all the way to the knuckle, curling inside of you.

You moan, and he stops kissing you, allowing your sounds to ring through his ears with no disturbance. He adds a second finger, then a third, pumping them at a steady pace as you grip his arm, your moans and whines getting louder by the second. “You sound so beautiful, baby. Better than any song I could compose.” He whispers in your ear. He adds his thumb to the mix, pressing it against your bud. The combination of three fingers inside of you and his thumb stimulating your clit has you crying out, your legs shaking as your walls contract around his fingers, falling off the edge faster than you would’ve liked to. You lay there panting as he slows down, kissing your shoulder. You whimper when it becomes too much, and he pulls his fingers out of you.

“You good?” He asks, rubbing your side. You nod, pushing the hair out of your face as he wipes his fingers in his pants. “Good. Now, do you think you could help me out?” He asks. You nod, both of you shifting so he sits on the edge of the bed as you kneel before him. You hastily undo his belt, unbuttoning his pants and untucking his shirt before pulling his pants and underwear down just enough to free his rock hard member, making it bounce against his abdomen. Your eyes widen, your mouth salivating as you look at it. It’s decently big, not too long and not too thick, it looks absolutely perfect.

You take it in your hand, a soft moan falling from his lips. You sit up a bit, bringing him to your mouth and wrapping your lips around the tip, swirling your tongue around it. His hand rests on your head as you slowly start to bob your head, taking more of him in, inch by inch. He hisses as you go all the way down, gagging around him. “Fuck, you’re so good at this, baby.” He groans, his head falling back, his eyes closed and lips parted. You hum around him, his grip on your hair tightening. As hard as he tries not to, he can’t help but thrust gently into your mouth, until you pause, just letting him slowly fuck into your mouth. “F-Feels so good, Y/N. You’re doing so good.” He moans.

You swirl your tongue around him and hallow your cheeks around him, doing whatever you can to please him. You look up at him, making eye contact with him, and he bites his lips. “Shit, no. No no no.” He hisses, pulling you off of him. You look up at him, confused, wondering if you did something wrong. “I don’t wanna cum like that. Lay down on the bed for me, baby.” He says, standing up.

You nod, getting up and laying down once more, watching as he pulls his clothes off hastily. He climbs onto the bed, hovering over you. He kisses you, holding himself up with one arm as his other hand guides his cock to your entrance. You gasp as he pushes into you, his hand now gripping your hip as your arms wrap around his neck. He feels so good, filling you up nicely as his hot breath fans over your face. “Holy fuck, so warm and tight. You feel so fucking good, baby.” He moans, making you smile. “Move Yoongi. Please move.” You beg, moving your hips up against him. He nods, adjusting your legs so they’re wrapped around his waist before pulling out just to pound into you.

He starts a steady, hard pace that leaves you almost breathless. Your moans get louder as his fingernails dig small crescents into your thigh. “Does it feel good, baby? Tell me how it feels. Are you doing okay?” He grunts. “So good, Yoongi. It fe-els so good.” You moan. “Good. You feel so good, Y/N, it’s like you were made for my cock. You’re absolutely fucking perfect.” He groans, leaning down to kiss your neck, sucking to leave a few more marks as he slows down a bit, coming to a sensual grind that still drives you crazy.

You both gasp and jump when there’s a loud knock on your door, pausing your movements as you both look towards it in horror. “Shut the hell up in there! It’s past midnight, the whole place doesn’t need to know what you guys are up to in there! These walls are thin as hell and being right next door, I can hear everything! Cut it out!” A gruff voice bellows through the wood, making your cheeks go red. Were you really that loud? You weren’t trying to be. You were beyond embarrassed at this point, but Yoongi only looked at you with a smirk. “What a dick. Who is he to get in the way of a good time?” He smiles, starting to move his hips again. “From now on, I want you to be as loud as possible, alright? I want you to scream how good I’m making you feel. Let everyone in this motel know how well I’m fucking you, okay?” He says, and you nod, biting your lip.

He shifts, gripping the headboard and switching his position a bit before slamming into you, right into your sweet spot. “Oh fuck!” You cry out unintentionally. “That’s it, baby. Be a good girl for me. Let me know how good you feel. Let everyone know how good you feel.” He says, pounding into you, the headboard knocking against the wall from the force. Even though you were aware how loud your moans were, you didn’t care. All you cared about was how good you felt. You hadn’t felt this good in a while, and it was amazing. You could feel the build up in your stomach again, and you gripped the pillow next to your head. “Yoongi, I’m g-gonna-” You moan. “You’re gonna cum, baby? Gonna cum all over my cock? Cum for me, Y/N. My good girl, cum for me darling.” He grunts.

You let go, your body trembling as you hit your edge hard, crying out his name. He pushes you through it, his thrusts getting sloppy before he pulls out of you, pumping himself before releasing all over your stomach. You lay there, catching your breath as he sits back, massaging your thighs as you both relax. “That was amazing.” He sighs happily, and you nod in agreement. He stays there, caressing your thighs, looking down at your body, covered in a thin sheen of sweat. “I was gonna suggest a nice shower to clean you up, but I don’t think I’m done with you yet.” He smirks. He gets off the bed, grabbing your towel from earlier and wiping off your stomach before laying down next to you. “You think you’re up for another round?” He asks.

You answer by smiling, kissing him as you swing your legs over him to straddle him. He sits up, leaning against the headboard as he continues to kiss you. You reach down, grabbing his cock and pumping him until he’s hard again before guiding him to your core again, sinking down onto him. You both moan as you take him in once again, your hips flush against his as his head falls back against the headboard. “Fuck, I don’t think I’ll ever get used to how good you feel.” He groans.

You start to move, your hands resting on his shoulders as you ride his cock, becoming a moaning mess again. He reaches around, gripping your ass and giving it a light smack as you move. He starts to kiss your neck again, his lips traveling down until they reach your breasts. One of his hands moves up your back, pulling it closer to him as his tongue twirls around your nipple, sucking on it as the sound of skin slapping echoes through the room. You feel him bite down on them, making you gasp, arching your back to get closer to him. He switches sides, giving your other nipple the same treatment. “Mm, Yoongi, I’m getting close again.” You whimper. “Me too, baby. Just a bit more. You’ve done such a good job tonight. You’re so perfect.” He moans.

A few more grinds and you’re soaring off the edge again, Yoongi right after you as he raises you up, careful not to come inside of you as he releases all over his own stomach. “Oh fuck.” He pants, you falling down onto the bed next to him. He grabs the towel again, cleaning himself off before pulling his pants back on. “So, I’m gonna run over and grab some clean towels from my room, how about you start the shower and get it warm, yeah?” He asks, leaning over to kiss you on the forehead. You nod, smiling as you pull him to your lips, the kiss lingering before he pulls away, leaving you to your duty.

You make your way to the bathroom, running the water to the desired temperature before climbing in, hearing your door open again. It’s only a minute longer before you hear his pants drop, the shower door sliding open as he joins you. He takes his time, caressing your body as he helps you clean off, placing soft kisses on your neck and shoulders, telling you how amazing you are and how well you did, and you felt amazing.

Once you’re both all cleaned you realized he brought an extra shirt of his and some boxers for you. He probably realized when he dug through your bag that you didn’t have any other clothes. You both get dried off and dressed and lounge on the bed, watching the end of an episode of Friends. “Hey, wait, you said you were a musician, got anything I can listen to?” You ask. “Oh, are you curious now? Sure, I have something.” He smiles. He grabs his phone and pulls up his music app, playing one of his songs. He plays a few, most with a great beat, rapping, and then the last one he plays is a song on the piano, soft and sweet, much to your liking. You stand, holding your hand out to him. He cocks and eyebrow at you and takes your hand reluctantly. The song plays in the background as you dance slowly with him, laughing at how terrible you both are but not caring. You’re happy, the happiest you’ve been in a long time. You’re comfortable with him, and you’ve never felt like this with anyone before. It’s new and exciting and warm, and you love it.

As the song ends you both sit back down, smiling. “Well, since I showed you my passion, why don’t you show me yours? I wanna see some of your pictures.” He smiles, pointing to your camera that’s sitting on the end table. You nod, grabbing it and turning it on, handing it to him and showing him how to scroll through the gallery. “Y/N, these are incredible. You really have an amazing eye.” He gasps. “Please, they’re just simple pictures, they’re not that great.” You shrug. “Y/N, these are great. You can’t keep belittling yourself like this. You’re an amazing woman and you need to see that.” He says, looking you in the eyes. “Yoongi, I don’t think that’s ever gonna happen.” You sigh, leaning against the headboard.

“Y/N, I’m about to suggest something crazy, but just bear with me, alright?” He says, putting the camera down. “I like crazy so continue.” You smile, turning your body to face him. “Travel with me.” He says, causing you to raise your eyebrows. “Huh?” You ask, not comprehending what exactly he’s suggesting. “Travel with me. Come with me to hotels and special monuments and stuff and beautiful places. It’ll give me inspiration for my music and it’ll give you more opportunities for beautiful pictures. Plus, neither of us will be lonely. We can go around and help people who have felt like we have and help them. We can try and make a difference and be happy.” He rants, and you smile. Traveling the country with a beautiful man. Who could say no to that? “Alright.” You smile. “Alright? As in a yes?” He asks, and you nod. “That’s great! I won’t be alone anymore!” He smiles, hugging you. You smile, but it’s interrupted by a yawn. “I think we should go to bed first, though. We can figure everything out in the morning. For now, let’s just sleep.” He says, laying down and pulling the covers over both of you. You fall asleep rather quickly, dreaming of all the adventures that await you.

[birooksun]

An Angel Like You Pt. 3

Read on AO3! (Part 1) (Part 2)

The next morning when you woke up you felt achy again. You frowned as you tried to stretch your aching muscles and massage your thighs. You quickly dressed and walked into the living room to see Connor sitting on the couch with his eyes closed and his LED a soft blinking yellow. He opened his eyes and turned to you with a smile, “Good morning y/n, I trust you slept well?” You gave a quick nod and scurried into the kitchen to start making some breakfast.

Connor followed behind you, giving a soft smile as he brushed your hair behind your ear. You couldn’t help the small flinch that came from the unexpected contact. As you dropped your eyes to the toaster instead of him you missed the frown that crossed his face. He wanted to make you feel completely safe around him, make it so you leaned into his touch instead of flinching away.

You glanced up at Connor, wondering what he was doing during the night. Then you wondered if androids even had a sleep mode? The toast popped up and you jumped at the sound as your hand jumped up by your throat. “Is everything alright y/n?” Connor’s question surprised you a little, but you did just jump at nothing.

You gave a small smile, shifting your hand to play with your collar instead of just hovering to block your throat. “Sorry, just- lost in thought for a moment.” Connor moved over to the small table as you buttered your toast and sat down with your drink. “Just wondering- do androids have a sleep mode?” He gave a small frown and tilted his head just slightly as he thought about it. You resisted the urge to giggle at how cute he looked right then.

“Some do, as one designed specifically for police work I do not require sleep. I can go into a rest mode if I choose to, but otherwise no. I do not have a sleep mode.” You just nodded in response. He had said he didn’t require sleep yesterday. You slowly ate your toast, wondering when he would leave- should you tell him to leave? Maybe Hank was going to pick him up, they were cops, it wasn’t like Connor could just take today off or something. You were pulled from your thoughts when Connor sat up straighter and his LED blinked yellow for a moment.

He turned to you with a soft smile. “Hank if on his way to the station, he’s picking me up.” You gave a small smile as he got up from the table and put on his shoes. You hadn’t even noticed he had them off. He paused before turning to you, “Y/N, may I ask a question?” You gave a half shrug in response. “How do you own a house? Someone of your age with a house in this economy seems a bit difficult to believe.”

You gave a small laugh, “It used to be my grandma’s and she left it to me when she died. We were kinda the last ones around so I guess she just wanted to make sure I’d always have a home.” You both turned to the door at the sound of someone knocking, probably Hank. Connor went and answered the door. Hank was standing in the doorway when you followed after Connor.

“Everything went alright?” He looked between the both of you, a smile on his face. “Come on Connor, let’s go.” Connor turned towards you, he seemed to be debating something before he just reaching over and squeezing your hand. You didn’t know how to react like that, instead just watching him walk out the door with Hank.

You doubled checked the door was locked then went back to your room to collect laundry. You felt proud of yourself, even remembering to grab the laundry in your bathroom. While laundry was being done you sat in front of the tv and started up your console, ready to play some games. Once the laundry was ready to be folded you turned off your game, put on a movie and folded while watching it.

Later that night you were preparing dinner for yourself, debating if you should join some of your coworkers out for drinks or not. A few more texts and you relented to joining them once you finished dinner. You had to laugh at one of your friends insiting they would come over early to make sure you were dressed nice. You knew they just wanted to steal some food.

A knock at the door startled you, but thankfully you managed not to drop your food. “Hey y/n!” You gave a sigh of relief at the sound of her voice. You quickly went to open the door. “Smells good. You’re not going out in that right?” You looked down at your eans, and loose shirt. “Just ‘cause some of us are hoping to catch a guy doesn’t mean we want them to ignore you!” She paused and made a motion with her hands to signal rewinding. “Wait. I just heard what I said. You’re pretty but we want you to still stand out! There! That sounded better.” You just shook your head at your friend’s antics and let her in.

The two of you ate and then you rinsed off the dishes and put them in the dishwasher to wash later. “Alright, alright. Let’s have you poke and prod at my closet.” You sighed as your friend led you into your room. You sat down on the bed as she did rifle through your closet. “I don’t have very many clothes your style. I’m frumpy and a plain Jane.” You shrugged and turned your face to the door. You didn’t want to see her reaction.

You didn’t expect her to give such a loud one though. “Bullshit. Plain Jane my ass! You’re beautiful and anyone who tells you otherwise can fuck off!” You laughed and shook your head. “Yeah I’m a girly girl but you’re still pretty. Just a natural pretty. Which makes it so much more fun when we blow everyone's socks off tonight!” She pulled out a dress from your closet and tossed it at you, “Try.” then she darted back in to see if there were other options. You quickly undressed and began to pull the dress on, pausing when you realized it was one with a low back and you had to remove your bra. You quickly tossed that off and resumed pulling the dress on. You tugged the bottom of the dress a bit lower, you never felt confident in a mini dress but when you were thinner it used to go halfway to your knees.

She came back out the closet holding a skirt and stopped to whistle. “Oh no, that is what you’re wearing. Damn you have legs for days in that dress!” You felt yourself flush at the attention. “Please tell me you have heels to go with it?”

You shrugged and looked under your bed, tossing a shoe behind you at your friend when she whistled. “You’re not allowed to bend over tonight, that’s for sure! Also don’t you have any sexy underwear?”

“Fine, you look for shoes under there.” You scooted back and went into the closet, closing the door behind you to search for nice underwear. You found a pair of black lace hip huggers and switched those for your plain cotton ones. A small part of you wondered if you really were attractive, and another part drifted to the dreams you’d had involving Connor the past two nights and what he would think of seeing you dressed like that. You quickly pushed down the thoughts and stepped out of the closet to see your friend sitting on the bed holding two pairs of heels.

“Strappy or clunky?” She held out each as she looked you over. “Strappy would look better on your legs, and if you drink too much one of us can always lend an arm.” She nodded and held out the strappy heels to you. You just smiled and sat down next to her and put the heels on. “Look at you girl!”

You rolled your eyes at her and picked up a purse to put your phone, keys, and wallet in. “Come on, I’m sure everyone’s already on the first round.” You glanced at your phone, wondering if anyone had texted you. You froze at the text from an unknown number. I hope you had a pleasant day today y/n.

You didn’t respond to it, you weren’t going to. You weren’t sure who sent it but a shiver ran down your spine regardless. The two of you left and you made sure the door was locked before climbing into the cab with your friend. The two of you walked into the bar everyone else was at to see them sitting at a large table. You didn’t notice the man and android at the bar. He turned and his eyes traced over you, from the sparkle in your eyes as you laughed at your friend’s jokes to the bottom of your dress that just hugged every curve and rode up slightly when you would walk.

His eyes drank you in as he watched you stroll up to the bar, he felt envious of the android who was holding your arm. “You know you don’t need to walk up with me just to the bar Rupert.” Your teasing tone drew a smile out of the other android. Connor started to stand up to go over to you but a gentle hand on his arm made him pause.

He turned to see Hank pulling back his arm and taking a sip of his drink. “Hold your horses Connor. Girls don’t like when a guy gets all clingly over them. She’s with her friends and enjoying a night out. He’s probably their DD and right now trying to make sure she doesn’t fall over in those heels.” Connor felt himself get angry at the way Hank leaned back to look at your backside. “Man if I were 20 years younger.”

“She’d still be out of your league Hank.” The words came out of Connors mouth before he could stop himself. Hank let out a loud laugh instead of feeling insulted about the comment.

“Hank? Connor?” Your voice carried and the two of you turned to see Hank and Connor at the other end of the bar. Rupert recognized the two of them and with a quiet word in your ear slipped back to the table. He tried to hide in with your coworkers and kept an eye on Connor. You grabbed your drink from the bartender, handing him your card to keep your tab open and walked over to them. “How’s everything?” You took a sip and tried to keep down your blush as you felt Connor’s eyes traveling over you.

Hank slapped Connor’s arm to get him to stop staring. “Well I know his night has improved seeing you. You doing alright kid?” You nodded and looked back to your coworkers.

They were waving and a few lifted up their glasses in a mock toast. You returned the gesture and sipped your drink. “I should get back to my friends.” You paused before finishing your first drink and asking the bartender for another.

As you waited you gave a small smile to the two of them and started to turn away. Connor reached out and grabbed your wrist. Unfortunately for you, sudden turns or sudden stops were not great in high heels. You stumbled and fell into his chest as he moved to keep you from falling. You looked up at him from where he had caught you against his chest. After what felt like too long he let go of you and you stepped back, brushing your hands down your dress to make sure it hadn’t ridden up. You flipped off whichever of your coworkers had whistled in response. “Y/N? Is there a chance you're available Friday night?” You looked at him for a moment in confusion before he clarified, “I mean, would you be available to go out on a date with me?”

“Oh.” The small exclamation left your mouth in surprise. “Uh, I guess so? I mean, yes. Yes I am available for a date.” You quickly took your drink and turned to rush back to your friends. Several of them were squealing with joy. You wanted to pour your drink on them, but that would be a waste of alcohol you now really felt you needed. “Tell me that didn’t just happen Tiff.”

The woman in question gave a low laugh as she patted you on the shoulder. “That happened. You just got asked out on a date. Not only that, you- Miss ‘I don’t think I’m attractive, y’all are just blind’ accepted that date.” You gave a weak smile as several coworkers patted you on the back and you brushed them off.

You glanced over at Hank and Connor, Hank was watching a basketball game playing on the screen behind the bar and Connor was looking at you again. You turned back to your friends and joined in on their conversations, missing the dark looks Rupert was giving Connor. After an hour Hanks’s game ends and he leaves with Connor. Hank pats you on the shoulder as he leaves. “Make sure you get home safe kid.” You stood up and gave him a hug, thanking him and giving a smile to Connor. You watched the two of them leave and resumed your night out with your friends. An hour later everyone was starting to call it a night and your head was spinning as you regretted having so much to drink. It felt like all of them had bought you at least one drink. As everyone started to pile into cabs you assured Rupert you would grab the next one before going back in to use the restroom.

You went back outside to see all your friends had left already, and all the cabs were gone. One of the self driving cars pulled up and someone inside rolled the window down. You could hear Connor’s voice. “Y/N, get in. I’ll give you a ride home.” You didn’t question why he didn’t come into view, you just climbed in the car and was glad he came back. You were too drunk to question how he knew you were just leaving the bar.

As you sat down in the car and leaned your head against the window he put an arm around your shoulders and pulled you against his chest. You tried to push away from him, but he held you firm and pulled you in a position to rest your head under his chin. You tried to push away his hands trailing up and down your leg before he put your hands on his chest and pinned them there with one hand. The other still trailing up and down your body. “Your so beautiful y/n. You look so sexy like that.” You struggled against him when you felt his hand slipping under your dress. “No no, you don’t get to dress like that for me and expect me not to do anything, can you?” He kept your hands trapped as he pulled you up for a kiss.

You had thought he was kind, that he was sweet and caring. Instead you could feel your teeth clicking against his, feel how he was forcing his tongue into your mouth as he turned you around and pinned you to the seat with his body. You felt repulsed as he pushed up your dress, his long thin fingers tracing over your underwear. “Let me go Connor! Stop please!” You knew your words were slurred as you tried to push him away. He didn’t budge until the car stopped. Then he got off of you, straightened up both your clothing and guided you out of the car as if nothing happened.

You felt ready to run, but a quick glance around let you realize this wasn’t your neighborhood. In fact it seemed to be somewhere you didn’t recognize at all. Connor wrapped an arm around your shoulders and with an iron grip guided you into a house. The outside looked condemned. The inside though, that made you want to scream. It didn’t match the outside. It looked pristine, and as you looked at the wall you realized they had soundproofing. You hadn’t realized he let go of you until you heard the lock clicking shut behind you. Then he placed a hand on your lower back and guided you further into the house.

He led you into a bedroom and you froze. He applied more force before pushing you in. “There’s clothes for you in the closet. You should get changed.” He shut the door behind you and you gave a sigh of relief. You decided it would be better to play along for now and went over to the closet. You felt your heart sink as you looked at nothing but lingerie. You saw a long slip dress mixed in and grabbed that to wear. It might still be slinky and much different from what you usually wore to sleep in, but it wasn’t sheer or as revealing as the others. You walked over to the door and checked it, swearing under your breath when didn’t budge. It was locked from the outside. Not sure what to do you sat down on the bed. After 10 minutes you laid down and passed out.

[imaginexmeintheuniverse]

Ok girlie I see your tags on the prompts and I’m. Here. For. It. Please do i’m the only one who gets your costume and apparently that makes you wanna rip my clothes off with my baby Peter maximoff I’m so freaking thirsty for him

i’m the only one whogets your costume and apparently that makes you wanna rip my clothes off +we’re secret friends with benefits and you accidentally wore my shirt to theparty so you’re pretending you came as me and it turns out your impression ofme is on point and you know me better than I know myself are you sure you’renot in love with me??

Word count: 1, 845

A/N: GIRL I GOT YOU

“I thought you said you weren’t going to dress up forthis,” Peter appears before you with a gust of wind that blows your loosehair back.

Raising an eyebrow at him, you lift your arms up at theelbows and reply, “I’m not…?”

The corners of his mouth curl up in a smirk as he looks youup and down, and realizes you aren’t aware that you’re wearing his shirt. Thelook of utter confusion on your face changes slowly as you look down to see thefamiliar Pink Floyd Dark Side of the Moonalbum cover print on the front of your— well, Peter’s t-shirt.

“Shit.”You curse under your breath, hoping no one else will notice that the shirt yourwearing isn’t yours.

“Hey, isn’t that Peter’s shirt?” Jubilee chirps,popping up out of nowhere with Kurt by her side and you start to panic becausethat really didn’t take long. Normally,you probably wouldn’t make a huge deal about wearing a friend’s shirt, butPeter isn’t like the rest of your friends, given the circumstances whichresulted in you wearing it. You had stayed in Peter’s bed while he was gettinghis costume ready after your, ehm, activitiesearlier. Long story short, you must have left too quickly and picked up thewrong shirt from the pile of clothes on the floor as you made your swift exit.

“Uh, y-yeah—” you stutter, completely caughtoff-guard, and as if on cue, the rest of the squad shows up. Great.

“Is Y/N wearing Peter’s shirt?” Scott asks,slightly confused.

“Yeah,” Peter interjects, saving you from beinggrilled. “I’m so much cooler than all of you that she decided to dress upas me.”

“Wow, Y/N,” Warren dramatically puts a hand overhis chest. “I thought we had something special.”

“Way to put some effort into your costume,” Jean snorts,her lips curved in a teasing grin.

“Yeah, it seems like she’s just missing a little—”Peter zooms off before finishing his sentence, and as per usual, he’s back asfast as he left. You don’t have time to blink before you find yourself with hissilver leather jacket around your shoulders and he’s grinning down at you as hegently places his goggles on your head. You smile back up at him, silentlythanking him as you slide your arms through the sleeves of his flashy jacket.

“And what are you supposed to be?” Jubilee asks, examiningPeter like he’s a foreign entity.

It takes you no time at all recognize Peter’s costume; apin-striped suit, the jacket a little wide and boxy, his hair is slicked down,and to top it all off, a pencil moustache. You and Peter spent hoursmarathoning the Addams Family on old recorded tapes, how could you not know?

“I think he’s supposed to be a gangster like from thoseold movies you showed me,” Kurt guesses, and Peter shakes his head inresponse.

“I’m actually—”

“I think you gangster costume is missing a fedora,”Scott comments, and Peter drags out an exasperated sigh.

“All right, I give up,” Peter throws his hands upin surrender. “I’m gonna go get a drink.”

The crowd parts as he speeds his way through to therefreshments table— which at this point, is a punch bowl mixed withgod-knows-what, with  a stack of cups anda few bottles of different drinks and alcohol. Meanwhile, you and the rest ofthe group start to converse, dance, and play Halloween-themed party games. Uponrequest, you start doing your impression of Peter— which you totally nail— andhave everyone in a fit of laughter as the night goes on.

You can only dance around and play party games so muchbefore you become a sweaty mess, so you make a short trip to the bathroom tocool down. When you exit, you see Peter leaning back on the wall of thehallway, waiting for you with a red cup in each hand, one of which he holds outto you.

“Merci,”You accept the cup with a sly smile, and he seems taken aback. You eyes don’tleave his as you bring the cup up to your lips and you see his slightlysurprised expression change to a pleased one. “Don’t think I haven’tnoticed your costume, mon chérie.”

“Cara mía,”A smile takes over his features and there is nothing he can do to stop it. Infact, he’d be telling the biggest lie he’s ever told if he said that you beingthe only person to get his costume andspeaking French didn’t turn him on.

“So, what do you think of my impression of you?”you ask, a playful smirk curving your lips.

“It could use some work,” he says nonchalantly, shiftingso that his side leans on the wall.

“Please,”You roll your eyes, and punch him lightly on the bicep. “I totally nailedyou!”

“Yeah you did,” he smirks, as you mentally slapyourself because you should have seen it coming. “Speaking of which,”He takes a step closer to you and his voice takes on a mischievous tone. Yourchests are mere inches apart, and as the seconds pass, Peter  gets increasingly impatient. All he wants todo is tear your— err— his clothes offof you. “We should totally go somewhere and get weird with eachother.”

Dismissing his last comment, you take another sip of yourdrink. “I’ve got you pinned—”

“Yeah you will—”

“I know you better than you know yourself.” Yourgaze bores into his big brown eyes . His pupils are totally blown and there’s ahint of something else you can’t quite put your finger on. The tension onlythickens between you and him, and it feels different than the usual sexualbuild up. It’s the same feeling that made you rush out of his room earlier.

That feeling was so small when you and Peter first startedyour— for lack of a better word— arrangement.You were friends, but not that close; he was attractive, but not someone yousaw as a romantic prospect. As the weeks passed, you started hanging aroundmore with him afterwards, and him with you. Like every friends-with-benefitsagreement, you’re supposed to call it off the second someone catches feelings,but as you realized that afternoon, it turns out you’ve been repressing a lotof feelings for a while now.

To make things more confusing, it was something so simplethat brought on your great epiphany. You had stayed in his bed after sex,clothed in nothing but your underwear and one of his oversized sweaters whilehe showered. He came back to find you had fallen asleep, and woke you up withthe sweetest kiss. His lips felt softer than usual, he smelled of soap, and thewet tips of his hair tickled your cheeks. The smile you saw when you openedyour eyes, made you feel like you were exactly where you were supposed to be.The second he turned around and headed to his closet, it hit you all at onceand you panicked. That’s when you ditched the sweater and left in a hurry,picking up the wrong shirt in the process.

Going through your memory, you swear there are times wherehe had those feelings. Every time, you got scared and must have thought aboutcalling the whole thing off a dozen times, but you and him fell into a grooveand somewhere along the way you subconsciously got attached. And now, as hestands in front of you, you search his eyes for that same spark and you’re moreconfused than ever.

“So you’ve been paying attention to me,” You snortat the cocky expression on his face, once again repressing the hell out of yourfeelings and keep up the back and forth flirting game the two of you alwaysplay. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re in love with me.”

“Don’t flatter yourself—” You tip your cup andgulp down the rest of whatever liquid is in it— it tastes like rum and coke,but not quite the same. “We made rules for a reason, remember?” Ruleswhich you’ve already broken.

After all this time you’d think you’d be used to it, but itfeels like all oxygen has escaped your lungs when you notice that his lips are real close to yours. His eyes dart downand come back up to meet yours. “Are you sure you’re not in love with me,Y/L/N?” He’s giving you major heart palpitations and your stomach is doingsome crazy flips, but you definitely can’t tell him that.

“Don’t push it, Maximoff.” You crush the empty cupin your hand and watch it turn to dust and eventually disappear as you vaporizeit. “I’ll see you later— my room.” He’s not sure what it is aboutthat that kind of turns him on, but he definitely doesn’t hate it. Spinning onyour heel, you call over your shoulder as you make your way back to the party, “Andget rid of the pencil stache!”

Before you can join back with the rest of the squad, you’restopped by your best friend— and she just about startled the crap out of you.“So, were you ever going to tell me about you and Peter?”

“Were you eavesdropping?!”

“How long have you guys been a thing?”

“Were you— uh we're— we’re not a thing—”

“I’m gonna take a wild guess… three months?”

“Accurate.”

You and Jean keep going back and forth, her firing questionsat you, and you trying your best to dodge them until she asks the one thatstops you.

“How long have you been in love with him?”

You freeze for a moment before turning into a stutteringmess. “I-I- love? P-Peter? No— I don't—” You think your heart mightjump right out of your chest and you jump to the first conclusion you can thinkof. “You read my mind?!”

“Not yours,”she specifies, eyes darting over to where Peter is dancing like a mad man.“It’s hard not to hear histhoughts when he’s pretty much screaming them, trust me I’ve tried.”

“I swear I wanted to tell you, but we agreed on certain,ehm, terms and conditions when thisstarted— we thought it would be better if no one knew.”

“It’s okay,” you’re a little surprised, but gladthat she’s hugging you instead of being salty about not telling her. You’re notsure why you expected anything different, she’s always been supportive. “Butare you sure you’re not in love withhim?” It’s almost chilling; those same words came from Peter just momentsago. You look over to where he’s dancing like a total dad, and that samefeeling washes over you again. You’re not sure whether or not you can lie toyour best friend— it wouldn’t make a difference even if you did because youboth already know the answer to that question.

Masterlist | Request a Halloween/Autumn drabble!

[hellomissmabel]

Debut part II/II

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Warnings: Someone being called a slut. Fluffiness overload.

Word count: 1.7k

Summary: You’re a small town actress catapulted to fame when you land a role in an immensely popular TV show. After turning down the flirtations of the lead male character, the media paints you as a bitch and you end up being bullied by his fans. Struggling to stay true to yourself, you find comfort and friendship in one of actors who makes his debut on the show.

Find part one here

All Sebastian Stan’s characters & fics can be found here

A/N: Written for @bbparker aka @bxckybxarnesstar

You can hear him playing the piano even with the door closed, the melodic movements of his fingertips creating an ecstatic atmosphere, never mind if it’s a slow or sad song. Yesterday you caught him playing ‘Last Christmas’ by Wham and today he’s playing ‘All I want for Christmas’. He doesn’t stop when he notices someone opening the door, continuing with marvellous rhythmic intent.

When you sit down next to him on the bench, he eventually nudges your side and stops playing with both hands, his left hand resting on your knee while the right finishes off the song and ebbs into another one of his own creation. The silly tunes make you giggle and with a quick peck to his cheek, your fingers ache for the same workout and you join in to the best of your abilities.

“What took you so long? You’re nearly half an hour late?”

With a deep sigh, you tell him the break-up scene. You gave Brady shit about how he started seeing Dixie behind your back, yet Brady also had a field day barking at Harley for kissing his half-brother August. The necessary dramatics ensued and Harley slapped her now ex-boyfriend right across the cheek.

“I didn’t enjoy hitting him, you know. Even though he deserved it,” you admit to the brunet as you miss a couple notes, noticing how he’s smiling from ear to ear. “He called me a slut.”

He stops playing as he notices the melody you’re playing is horrendous. “Well, if it’s any consolation, I thoroughly enjoyed making out with you.”

Caressing the keys of the piano with absent-mindedly, you think back to the moment where he confesses his love to you. It’s the plot twist of the entire fifth season and supposed to feed the fans throughout the entire sixth and seventh. You didn’t rehearse your first kiss with Bucky like you did with Steve, because you actually like Bucky and didn’t want all the kissing to dull down the special moment between Harley and August.

And maybe you were a little bit selfish too, because you’ve been taking piano lessons from Bucky for almost four months now and you’ve only grown fonder of the brunet with the baby blue eyes. “Me too,” you chuckle, leaning your cheek on his shoulder and listening to him play song after song. “You never did tell me why you started playing the piano,” you ask him after some time has passed.

Humming along to the melody, you feel the soft press of his lips to your hair. “I’ve never told this to anyone before, so…” He drops his hands to his lap and coughs. “My mother, euhm, she’s… a music teacher. I never really had a taste for music, didn’t consider myself to be very musical either. Until she passed away… Then music became a way to stay in touch with her.”

Looking up at the pianist, you cradle his cheek in the palm of your hand and smile sadly. He gives you a tight-lipped smile in return and presses a chaste kiss to your lips. “Don’t worry about me, babe. Worry about your lack of rhythm.” His warm lips find yours again with a tiny wink. “Which song do you wanna play next?”

“I do my best but I’ve never really had a sense of rhythm,” you smirk in a teasing tone, your fingers rapidly conjuring up the first song that pops into your head. “How about –“

“Cut! Cut, cut, cut! Cut!”

Tony comes barging in on the set, pushing past the camera crew and elbowing his way towards where you and Bucky are sitting at the piano. “I need more chemistry! Y/N, Harley just left the guy she’s been seeing since first year for his brother, the love of her life. I need you to be more broken up about it. And you,” he turns to Bucky, pointing a stern finger at him, “You have to be more charming! You just stole your half-brother’s girlfriend! I wanna see you flirt your way into her pants for God’s sake!”

“Alright, let’s just take a break first, okay?,” Peggy saves the day. “We’ve been shooting since 5 a.m.”

You and Bucky slide off the bench and both head into different directions, Bucky being called to the wardrobe department because Tony doesn’t like the way his jacket fits around his shoulder. Natasha and Maria as well as the other dancers aren’t on set today so you feel a little lost without your usual crew. You can’t exactly go sit with Sharon and Steve, their mutual scene up next after you finish up with Bucky.

So you head over to the makeup department where you find Wanda scrolling on her phone, checking out guys on Tinder. “Hi there,” she pipes up, a little startled when she sees you leaning against the door frame with a knowing look in your eyes. “Just… checking my e-mails. How was your scene?”

“Checking your e-mails, hm?,” you wink knowingly. “With that big of a smile? Come on, Wanda, please…” Sitting down next to her on one of the chair for the makeup artists and hair stylists, you look over her shoulder at the guys she’s checking out.

“You’re not with Bucky?,” she asks you after swiping left on a certain Sam Wilson, the millionth aspiring actor on Tinder, the perks of finding a boyfriend in Hollywood. “You usually practice in between scenes and never spent any time with us anymore.” With a fake pout, she nudges your side with her elbow and smiles cheekily. “Is there something wrong in paradise?”

“No, he got called to wardrobe for a new fitting,” you grin as you poke her back in the ribs. “And there’s nothing going on between me and Bucky.”

“Right,” she chuckles dryly as she locks her phone, the face of a certain Clint Barton vanishing as she closes the app. “Now, missy, you get your ass to the rehearsal room and text Bucky to join you. Tell him you wanna practice the scene again to please Tony and so that you can all go home early.”

Pushing you out of the room, she stands her ground and even pickpockets your phone to do the dirty work for you, sending a quick text to Bucky who immediately replies with an ‘OK’ and a smiley. “You can thank me later, Y/N.”

With a soft groan you make your way down to the rehearsal room at the far end of the hallway, right next to Peggy’s private office. You arrive just in time for you to sit down at the piano and start playing the show’s theme song, the only song you know by heart, before Bucky gets there too and stands behind you with his hands on your shoulders and his lips pressing an affectionate kiss to the crown of your hair.

“You did great, you know. Tony’s just on edge because there’s this new show airing tomorrow that supposed to be the next Pretty Little Liars. Now we’ve all got to be more sexy, more scheming, more dramatic,… More fake if you ask me…,” Bucky chuckles dryly.

You stop playing as soon as you feel and focus on his touch. “But I thought we were the next Pretty Little Liars?,” you feign sadness as Bucky takes a seat next to you.

“No, Y/N, we are the next Gossip Girl,” he corrects you with an amused smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Huuuuuuuuuuge difference!”

Ardently he erupts into a play of tones and tunes, trying to impress the girl next to him. “You know, I did enjoy kissing you, Y/N. Too bad it was only on set…,” he throws his bait at you to see if you’ll bite. “And I’m not saying that just because we’re supposed to be the new power couple on the show. I’m not Steve.”

He glances at you from the corner of his eye to see a small smile break through your stoic, surprised façade. “C’mon Y/N, at least admit you liked kissing me, too.”

You place a hand on top of his and he halts his movements, looking at you with curiosity and hope in those beautiful baby blues. “I really liked kissing you, Bucky. And I never really thanked you for teaching me how to play the piano, so…”

Leaning in very close, you give the brunet the impression you’re going to kiss him. There’s chemistry in the air and an electrifying pull between you and our co-star, yet as your lips just about brush his, you lean back again and start playing the piano. “But first, practice!,” you chuckle with a girly giggle.

Bucky’s lips chase after you when you leave him hanging mid-air, his eyes already fluttering closed, and when he figures out you’ve played him, he laces his arm around your waist and pulls you into his side. His fingertips tickle you, drawing high-pitches squeals from your lips as you’re very ticklish.

“Practice? Practice, hm? I’ll show you some practice?,” he chimes in a sing-song voice before the soft press of his lips on yours catches you off guard. Instantly you melt into him, hands splayed on his chest and gently fisting his shirt while Bucky cups your cheek in one hand and holds your neck with the other.

Gasping slowly when the pianist elicits a low moans from your lips, he deepens the kiss and caresses your tongue with his. “How’s that for practice, babe?,” he chuckles as you are both panting slightly.

“Practice makes perfect, they say. So let’s try again, even if it’s just to keep Tony satisfied with your charms,” you joke playfully, a seductive tone to your voice as the piano lessons are long forgotten and another searing kiss from Bucky takes your breath away.

Tag list: @melconnor2007 @learisa @mrshopkirk @dont-speak-just-read @buckyappreciationsociety @beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep @lovemarvelousfics @pleasantdreamqueen @petersunderroos @movingonto-betterthings @palaiasaurus64 @ssweet-empowerment @lovemarvelousfics @rrwilson66 @petersunderroos  @reniescarlett   @lostinthoughtsandfeelings @barnes-heaven  @that-sokovian-bastard @abovethesmokestacks @marvelrevival  @marvel-fanfiction @justanotherbuckydevotee @barnes-heaven  @heartmade-writingbucky @buckyywiththegoodhair @captnbarnesrogers @a-little-hell-to-raise @knittingknerdy  @winterboobaer @hymnofthevalkyrie  @feelmyroarrrr @justareader @howlingbarnes  @themcuhasruinedme @buchananbarnestrash @hollycornish   @delicatecapnerd @tomhollandzs  @aletheladyinred @xbergiex @promarvelfangirl @capbuckybuchanan @pegasusdragontiger @salty-holographic-stickers  @sebstanchrisevanchickforever19 @autijahnerd13s-blahg @sophiealiice @sarahmatthews7 @lumelgy @kudosia @daringtodreamawake @moonbeambucky @suz-123 @breezy1415 @always-an-evans-addict @thegreentgirl @yourtropegirl @4theluvofall @curvybihufflepuff @caplansteverogers @amrita31199 @isnt-the-blog-youre-looking-for @pineapplebooboo @thefridgeismybestie @supernatural508 @supernaturaldean67@cant-decide-at-this-moment @mehrmonga @specs15 @kanupps06 @imnotinsanehunny @sarahgracej @jasura @nerdyandproud9 @geeksareunique @jesspfly @badassbaker @whenallsaidanddone @ailynalonso15 @thebookisbtr @animechick725 @wheneggsymetbucky

[hntrgurl13]

For te writing prompts, how about 126? Some Stan and Dipper bonding maybe? :3

126: “ No way, that’s so lame. ”

Dipper flipped through the pages of a large red binder. He admired the contents proudly. He was so glad he decided to take it with him when his parents sent him and his sister out to Gravity Falls for the summer. He looked at the cards tucked into their neatly packed and laminated folders. Each one more colorful than the last. The little figures and monsters that inhabited them were from a Japanese video game Dipper loved playing. When he got his first card, it was love at first sight. He’d been collecting them since he was six. He’d always give the cute ones he already had to Mabel. Dipper hugged the binder close, blocking out the rest of the world.

“Whatcha got there, kiddo?,” the gruff voice of his great uncle Stan said over Dipper’s shoulder. The kid let out a high-pitched screech and slammed the binder shut. Grunkle Stan cracked up at the sudden action. “That’s always good for a laugh.”

“G-Grunkle Stan?! Do you not know anything about personal space?!” 

“Eh, yeah but that doesn’t make you make that girly scream,” Stan said while his laughing fell to a mild chuckle. 

Dipper blushed. Hopefully his prepubescent voice cracking wouldn’t be around for much longer. It was embarassing. Dipper moved the binder away from his uncle. “You just startled me, okay? Sudden noises tend to do that.”

 Stan frowned a bit before putting on a huge grin. “Hey, I’m sorry. I was just having a good laugh. Mabel’s off with her friends for the day so it looks like it’s just us guys,” Stan cheerily replied as he patted Dipper’s back a bit harder than needed. 

“What about Soos? He’s normally over here anyways.”

“He and his Abuelita are out of town at his cousin’s wedding. Besides, I thought it’d be great for us to just hang out. Last time it was just us we were accusing a teen that wears eyeliner of brainwashing girls you have a giant crush on-”

“I-I DON’T HAVE A CRUSH ON WENDY! WHO SAID I HAVE A CRUSH ON WENDY?! THAT’S RIDICULOUS!” Dipper went into a full out panic at Stan’s words. He could feel his heart beat out of his chest.

“Woah, take it easy there. No one told me you had a crush on Wendy. I just put two and two together, is all. Nothing wrong with it. And it’s pretty obvious you do. You think no one else can hear you whispering?”

Dipper’s blush grew darker as he tried to hide under his hat. 

“Hey, don’t sweat it. Plenty of boys get crushes on girls that are older than them. Happened to someone I knew when I was a kid.”

“Was it you?” Dipper’s interest was peeked. He didn’t much about Grunkle Stan’s past, let alone his childhood. 

Stan laughed gently at what Dipper assumed was a memory. “Well… me and someone else I knew. He was a total nerd just like you. I mean, in a good way. Was really into science and aliens and stuff. He tried to talk to an older girl when we were teens and she threw punch in his face. Guess it was kinda my fault though. I gave him a bad pick up line.” 

Dipper couldn’t help but laugh at that. Stan giving someone bad advice wasn’t that surprising but it was still funny. “Where’s your friend at now?”

“Who knows. Probably out in the middle of nowhere waiting on someone to find him…” Stan seemed to go quiet after saying that. 

Dipper kicked his feet in the absent air under his chair. The awkward silence seemed to go on for hours rather than minutes. Dipper was surprised when Stan reached over him and plucked the binder right off the table. 

“W-wait! Don’t look through that! That’s private!” Dipper exclaimed as he tried to make a grab for it. But his tiny limbs were cut short by Stan’s outstretched arm keeping him at bay. “NO! DON’T!”

Stan examined the cards with a confused look. “Is this what kids are into now a days? Little make believe monsters on cheap cards?”

“They aren’t cheap! They’re really valuable and important to me! Give them back!” 

Stan rolled his eyes and returned the binder to his nephew. Dipper quickly flipped through the pages to make sure no damage was done. 

“So… You really like collecting those things? Anyone else know?”

“N-no… The only people who do are Mabel and my parents… I don’t exactly broadcast it because people think it’s lame… Not like you’d get it…” Dipper frowned at his words. It felt strange talking to his uncle about this. How would HE ever understand? All he’s ever collected was tourists’ cash. 

Stan rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, trying to find the words to make the kid feel better. An idea popped into Stan’s head.

“Hey. You wanna see something cool?” 

“Wha… What is it?” Dipper looked up at his uncle with a skeptical look on his face.

“It’s in my office in the safe. Come on.”

Soon they were in the room while Stan started putting in the combination. Dipper looked around at all the weird items the man had in his private quarters. He wasn’t very impressed.

“Tadaaaaa!” Stan loudly exclaimed as he presented a small foldable leather pad to the boy. Dipper just looked down at it just as confused as his Grunkle was earlier.

“Pennies? No way, that’s so lame. You don’t even have that many. You only have five.”

“These aren’t just ANY pennies, kid. These coins are rare, U.S. mint, whole copper, 1943 wheat pennies. The most rare coins you’re ever gonna see in your lifetime. Made from from leftover copper planchets that were stuck in the press system. They’re the most valuable and desirable of all Mint error coins. One of these puppies sold for a million bucks at an auction recently.”

Dipper’s eyes went wide. Stan had something as valuable as that and he’s just been keeping it to himself? “W-wait a sec. How come you never sold these if they’re so valuable? You’d be living it large now if you did!” Knowing Stan’s love of money, it was the most surprising thing to learn about him. 

“Heh, you remember that friend I was telling you about?” 

Dipper nodded in response.

“Well when we were kids we’d always try and fish out coins from sewer grates. You know, the ole gum on a string trick. Well it finally worked for us and the first coin we ever caught together was one of these bad boys. My old man had a pawn shop and he told us to hang on to it. When we went our separate ways, I got the coin since times were a little hard for me. Had to sell it just to put food on the table. But then I found another one and another one and so on. I didn’t have the heart to sell them. So I started to collect them.” The smile on Stan’s face told Dipper the story was genuine and made him return the gesture. 

“That’s pretty cool.”

“Yeah. I think yours is pretty cool too.”

200 writing prompts