#let's me reiterate: he's just like me WHEN IT COMES TO CATS and nothing more

[killjoy-prince]

He's just like me fr fr

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

About the "kwamis as mentors" angle: Interesting to read and analyse, yet I can't help but feel they were not necessarily meant to be seen as mentors. At least to me, they seemed to be kind of whacky mascot characters who are tied to the lore, who have a personality to crack a joke or point something out or cause a little situation or be cute, but nothing more.

They are rather naive magical entities chained to jewelry (a fact they don't seem to mind that much or think about at all except for Plagg) and all that talk about "being around for 5000 years" and having seen many holders before is just there to make them seem more wise than they actually act like. From what I've seen on the show I would even assume there's a threshold to how much they can even mature emotionally and understand humans. Sometimes Tikki and Plagg even come off as indifferent and egoistical towards their holders (like an example you gave with Tikki, or Plagg's fixation on cheese over Adrien at times).

So...sorry if I missed it, but why do you view them as mentor characters? You made an interesting post about rom-com vs magical girl and the magical girl part is exactly why I always viewed them just as critters to appeal to kids, but nothing more. I can see that the show's writing is so inconsistent that sometimes they are portrayed as wise but more often then not they are just background noise to get a little interaction on screen so that the characters are not talking to themselves about miraculous stuff or to point something out for the audience.

The show's writing is pretty weird, so there are elements that are hard to get a clear read on. The Kwamis are one such element. When they're one-on-one with their chosen, they often feel like mentors to me. When they're all together, they almost always read like "critters to appeal to kids" (mostly because there are too many of them to let them have individual personalities when they're all together). So while I think that they're supposed to be mentors, it's not like that's the only canon-accurate read.

To dig into what I mean by the one-on-one writing, let's look at this exchange from Feast:

Master Fu: See, Wayzz? If Marinette had kept her Miraculous, the sentimonster would have swallowed her right up. Wayzz: Or she would have transformed into Ladybug and fought it. Master Fu: Sometimes fighting is futile, Wayzz.

And then later on we get this:

Wayzz: Master, look! Ladybug and Cat Noir, despite their ridiculous costumes, they haven't let you down! Wang Fu: That's impossible! They don't have their Miraculous! Wayzz: Master, it's obvious it's them—who else would do something so crazy? Cat Noir (Adrien): Hey, have a taste of this! Some exploding banana split from Bananoir! Ladybug (Marinette): Much tastier than any Miraculous! Wayzz: Look, Master, there's no use in running! Your disciples never give up the fight, no matter what! With or without their Miraculous, they are Ladybug and Cat Noir!

That's some pretty active mentoring right there.

Wayzz is probably the character that feels the most like a mentor to me. When he's with Fu, he feels like Fu's partner or adviser, which is why I think that the Kwami's aren't supposed to just be cute critters. They're regular ol' Jimmy Crickets meant to act as a conscience that the characters can talk to since this is visual media and you want a way for the characters to talk through their thoughts instead of having them do it all internally.

I also present this exchange from Desperada as evidence:

Adrien: Plagg, Ladybug needs me. She needs "Adrien"! Plagg: If you asked me, this whole idea is worse than cheese in a can. Adrien: She thinks I'm the perfect guy for this mission. Plagg: You can't be Cat Noir and another superhero at the same time! Which means that you're not the perfect guy for this mission. Adrien: The Lucky Charm told her I am. Plagg: That's not how it works. Why am I bothering? You're not even listening.

We then get Plagg reiterating that this is a bad idea through multiple loops, ending with this:

Plagg: Ah! At last, you've come to your senses. Adrien: I'm not sure Ladybug will have very fond memories of her experience with "Adrien Agreste". Plagg: Then make up for it as Cat Noir.

See? I told you Plagg can be a good mentor when he wants to! Tikki, take notes!

I'd even call this bit from Sapitos some quality subtle mentoring from Trixx:

Alya: Oh please, Ladybug! We'd make a great team! I could help Cat Noir and you every day! Ladybug:(her earrings ring) I'm about to transform back! Hurry! Alya: Please? Ladybug: I have to go! I'm trusting you! (opens a nearby door and goes inside, so she can detransform) Trixx: You're absolutely right, Alya. I'm sure the three of you would make quite the team! You have all the makings of a true superhero. You're strong, brave; but most of all, you're trustworthy.

Way to both build Alya up and reminder her of her duty, Trixx. Gold star. Quality mentorship!

So are the Kwamis supposed to be mentors? Who knows! I just see them fill the role often enough to feel comfortable judging them through that lens.

Miraculous also isn't the only magical girl team show to make the cute critters into mentors. That's a pretty standard path even though it's also common to see the critters used to sell merch/appeal to kids and nothing more. In terms of classic magical girl team shows, I'd say that the Kwamis are written way more like Luna and Artemis from Sailor Moon than Mini Mew from Tokyo Mew Mew.

[k-hotchoisan]

hii it’s me again with another request (sorry)

Could you write smtg based off the song agora hills by doja cat? whatever member u prefer is fine 💕💕

anywayssss i love you smmm and u are an amazing person!! 💕💕🤭🧎‍♀️

omg that is such a cute song (if you squint hard enough past the public sex HAHAHAH)

Please never apologise for coming back for a request, you know I’ll always welcome you with open arms 🥰

Always thank you for being so sweet vic (if it’s okay to call you that~) and for giving me inspiration + pushing me write out of my boundaries. I genuinely appreciate it.

AND I LOVE YOU TOO 🗣️🩷😭

Where you and Seonghwa have a fight before his Grand Prix finals, but he still wins, and loses his fucking mind when he sees you still cheering for him despite that.

Genre/Warnings: racer au, smut, semi public sex, you fuck Seonghwa in his racer gear, IF YOU SQUINT HARD ENOUGH THERES LIKE ANGST (it isn’t heavy don’t worry), creampies, mild dacryphilla, unprotected sex, sweaty sex

You storm past your partner into the hotel room, trying to let the anger dissipate. Seonghwa is trying to get to you, explaining what you saw. You know that it couldn’t be helped, but feel the thorns prickling your heart when you couldn’t even approach him when you caught one of his overly zealous and nepotistic fans with her hands over him during the after party. Nothing much could done because;

a. He couldn’t do anything about it because the relationship between the both of you had to be kept a secret, his management did not like the thought of entertaining Seonghwa in a relationship when his career is at his peak;

b. The Grand Prix finale was tomorrow. A lot of stakes were in place, and Seonghwa knew better than to fuck it up, especially when he’s worked so hard to get where he is now. He’s so close.

He’s also so fucking close to just wanting to let the world know how possessive he is over you.

“You know it’s not like that right?” and he goes on and on. You know that it’s part of his job—to network, get more sponsors, even if it meant letting other women get a little too close to him. You understand, you do, but oh god, it gets so fucking exhausting. You just wanted time for yourself to clear your head and process the whole thing, and potentially stabbing that nepo baby at least sixty times in your head.

Your arms are crossed. Arguing with him is the last thing you want to do right now, especially when the both of you barely escaped getting caught sneaking into his hotel room. All that for a fight to erupt between the both of you after a long and tense day on the track. You glare at him with a pout.

“I’m going home.”

Seonghwa whips his head so fucking fast, his eyes piercing right into you. He looks absolutely dumbfounded.

“Are you serious?”

You nod. “I’m sorry that I overreacted, but now, I’m not risking us getting caught when tomorrow’s the finals.”

Seonghwa wants to fucking pounce and cage you in. Before he even attempts to deflect your words, you cut him off-

“-and especially when you’re not the one dating someone who needs to keep a relationship a secret.” You sigh. “Please get some rest, Hwa.”

You pull the hotel door open, and leave promptly. Seonghwa stands there, his brows furrowed as frustration bleeds into him. He wants to so badly chase after you, but he knows you wouldn’t let him, not when there could be a chance to risk getting caught by anyone from his team.

As the cab pulls away further from the hotel, your phone is spammed by Seonghwa, and he’s explaining himself. You purse your lips, reading over his texts, but you only decide to reply a curt reiteration of what you told him earlier at his hotel room, and a “love you”, before unlocking your door to finally wash up.

A ping of guilt courses through you—you know you shouldn’t misunderstand or be jealous, but if anything, it was but how it made you feel, and it wasn’t pretty. You didn’t mean to show a perturbed expression when his eyes glanced at you after he barely managed to shake his little fan girl off him, but it was just automatic. And if anything, Seonghwa is just as possessive as you are, if not worse, especially when he sent death glares to your direction when another male had approached you, and periodically touched you up on your arms, which kind of caused the argument to even start in the first place.

Your eyes flutter close, exhausted, as sleep drags you in deeper, the last thing in your mind being Seonghwa.

The morning sun leaks through the windows of Seonghwa’s room. He’s already up, albeit half awake, getting ready for another whole day of racing. His mind was set on going all out for the finals, but something still remains at the back of his mind, and he doesn’t want to push it away. He thinks to himself, he wants to do it for you.

You only send Seonghwa a short text of encouragement, and he doesn’t reply. Then again, he is wrapped up with interviews over interviews, training and the finale would only start when dusk sets. You don a body con dress, paired with one of Seonghwa’s racer jackets you stole, might as well surprise him a little bit.

On the cab to the event, Seonghwa’s gorgeous face is plastered all over the Grand Prix news, as one of the rising stars. He looks absolutely stunning, no doubt, and it gets your heart racing too because you cannot believe he’s yours.

You take a seat amongst the noisy crowd around you. The atmosphere was getting really riled up, especially when the racers all appear on the big screen as they walk back stage to their cars. Your eyes are glued to the screen as Seonghwa appears in his racing gear, and he winks at the camera, a slew of fangirl screams burst around you, and you cover your mouth to suppress a giggle. All the hard feelings the night before faded off, and you heart felt full yet anxious for Seonghwa.

It takes awhile for the warm up and safety check to be cleared, but before you knew it, the checkered flags are raised and lights turned green, cheers roar across the tracks as the loud screeches of the cars overpower them.

Throughout the laps, Seonghwa falls in between 3rd and 4th place, you bite your lip, praying that he’s able to catch up. As the laps close in to its final rounds, Seonghwa slowly climbs up the position to first, and he maintains, amazingly. The night continues to burn with anticipation as the final lap commences, with Seonghwa neck to neck with another racer, switching between first and second.

The final corner becomes the make or break—as Seonghwa drifts, effectively overtaking just slightly before fully taking the spot for first.

And he speeds into the finishing line, winning championship.

You jump from your seat, your fingers clasped from the tension as the announcer is proclaiming Seonghwa’s win, and the screen flashes his winning race in slow motion. Your heart is pounding in your ears as the screams are blocked out. You are so proud that nothing leaves your lips as you fight the tears from falling as you clap. The screen flickers to the car cam, and you see Seonghwa pumping his fist in victory as he rides through another victory lap.

The barricade has fans screaming Seonghwa’s name as he leaves the car and pulls his helmet off. He looks so fucking amazing even when he’s sweaty, and you can’t help but feel your heart skip a beat. You decide not to squeeze with the fans near the barricade, opting to stand further away.

Well, now where does this relationship go? He’ll probably be even further from you now.

A huge group of reporters swarm him, and he looks overwhelmed, that is until his eyes scan the crowd and lands on you, just when you’re ready to turn to leave.

Seonghwa’s heart skips a beat, his eyes are only tunnelling you as he pushes past the crowd, jumping past the barricade to where you are. You have a small smile on your face because you know he deserves all of this.

A tight grip on your hand halts you in your tracks, shocking you, as you turn around with wide and confused eyes. He pulls his goggles off. Before you could even process it, Seonghwa has his jacket that you’re wearing in his fist as his hands travel up cup your jaw—and he pulls you in for a deep kiss.

Your eyes shut as the kiss scatters fireworks beneath your eyelids, with Seonghwa’s lips right pressing against yours. Your mind is fuzzy, as your ears blocks out the loud screams of his fans. He pulls back after what feels like an eternity, before bowing politely at the group of fans and reporters in front of him as he leads you away.

From the circuit track to his hotel room, he never once let go of your hand, probably only gripping it tighter the closer he got to his room. He doesn’t say a damn thing either, probably because he still has the adrenaline pumping in his veins. Nonetheless, you still can’t tell what he’s thinking, and you’re wondering if he’s still upset.

At least not until the moment the door closes behind you.

Because he turns his heels right at you as devours your lips, not letting go at all, even as peels off his jacket, then yours.

He finally pulls back, giving you a breather. His eyes look absolutely wild as he tugs his jacket off you, exposing the way your dress hugs your curves, and his breathing becomes heavier.

“Fuckin hell. You don’t know how much it drives me insane when you’re wearing my jacket over something fuckin slutty like this. Fuck,” he groans, kicking his shoes off. You stare at him breathlessly as you remove your shoes as well, but your gaze never leaving how Seonghwa looks so fucking good with a compression shirt on—the way it hugs his biceps, the way it pulls taut against his chest and abdomen, the gorgeous bounce of his fucking tits every time he shifts his arms. He doesn’t remove his top before pulling you right back into his arms, his hands snaking up to grab your braless tits, which makes him groan again.

“Fuck, you’re not even wearing a bra. Are you fucking kidding me?” His erection presses hard against your thigh, and you’re working through your brain to find and answer amidst being trapped by pleasure. “And where did you think you were running to, looking like that?”

“N-nowhere! I thought you’d be caught up with the report-“ he cuts you off with another hungry kiss. God, he’s so desperate that you can’t help feel the heat pool between your legs. It doesn’t help that he had pulled your dress down past your chest, and his hands are all over your tits, sending sparks down your your spine, right to your pussy. Seonghwa pulls away once more, licking the string of spit that connected the both of you.

Seonghwa hums. “Mmm. Shouldn’t have asked. I’d still fuck you dumb anyway.” Your grip on his arm tightens. His fingers snake under your dress, tugging on your panties as he pulls the pair down, and pockets the pair of panties. The wet patch of slick doesn’t go unnoticed by him. His gaze locks onto yours as he makes sure you watch him cover his fingers with spit before his fingers head south. His fingers meet your slick that covered your cunt and scoffs.

“You’re already so fucking wet already”. He doesn’t give you a chance to answer as his fingers begin rubbing your clit. You lean forward and sigh as you use his shoulder to lean your head on. He lets you for a moment, adoring the way you’re beginning to squirm underneath him. Then he’s grabbing your waist and then dumping you right on the couch, pushing your legs open for him. Your cunt glistens with slick right for him, and Seonghwa is more than ready to dive in, giving a lick before fully immersing his tongue right into your sex, flicking his tongue against your clit, his hands squeezing your thighs. Your fingers are tangled in his hair and your head is thrown back as you tug his slicked back hair. If you weren’t seeing stars, you’d be seeing the fucking heavens.

Seonghwa hits a pace where you’re beginning to see white spots beneath your eyelids and the knot tugs hard in your stomach. Your thighs contract immediately, but Seonghwa keeps them apart, because he knows that’s the sweet spot. He knows it makes you tingle and it gets him so fucking excited. His tongue works even quicker on your clit and your orgasm builds so fucking quick and your whines climb up in octave, music to Seonghwa’s ears.

“There, there. Oh fuck. I’m cumming. Oh my fucking god”, leaving your lips like a mantra, alongside more whines of his name as your orgasm tingles through your body in waves. His tongue presses against your clit and he sucks on your clit, causing you to jolt, tears already streaking from the overstimulation. Seonghwa’s moaning in your wet cunt, making sure he devours every part of your orgasm as his ego inflates. A broken cry leaves your lips as you release his locks, your hands slumping against the couch. Seonghwa presses a wet kiss against your cunt with a smile. He wipes his lips with the back of his hand as he towers over you, his erection staining his pants already. Oh god, you love the way your arousal is all over his plump lips nonetheless. He was made for eating you out. He leans in for another ravenous kiss—and he swears he can never get enough of it. Before you realise it, your dress is pulled back up past your tits.

His fingers gently intertwine with yours as he pulls you up, and leads you to-

“The balcony?” You question, your heart hammering in your chest. Seonghwa cracks a smile as he leans in.

“Yeah. I wanna show the world my girl. I’ll fuck you so good that I’ll make sure the world knows.”

“But-“

“It’ll be fine. I’m serious. We’re so high up and we’re clothed, well kind of ”, he comforts. You bite your lip, because fuck, it was definitely exhilarating to be fucked on the balcony. You wanted the world to know that he’s yours too and the thought of it only heats you up even more.

He leads you the beach chair at the side, where he makes you sit and hang your legs on either side of the arm rests, and he’s about to remove his compression top but your hands stop his before you realise it. He looks at you, concern flashes over his face for brief second.

“Fuck me with your racer gear on.”, you blurt out, curling your fingers against the taut fabric. Seonghwa’s expression immediately switches over to one of a smirk. “What have you been fantasising about, darling?” He pokes, looming over you with a cocky smile.

You can’t escape, the only thing that does is a small whimper. Seonghwa doesn’t push for an answer, because he’s busy yanking his pants down past his thighs, and his cock springs out, hitting his lower abdomen. He sighs as he gives his fat cock a couple of pumps while looking at you with your legs spread wide open for him, your pussy just salivating at the thought of him pounding into you into the next week.

He lines himself to your entrance and doesn’t warn you before he enters, and a squeal leaves your lips, then a soft cry as he pushes more inches into you—every inch going thicker and thicker as he goes down to the base, until he’s snug in your cunt.

“That’s my good girl. Warm and wet, just how I like it”, he whispers into your ears, as he strokes your thighs gently. More sobs leave you, your fingers pressing onto Seonghwa’s arms.

Just when you thought you couldn’t fit any more of Seonghwa, the sudden thought of him right now, fucking you in his uniform somehow swallowed more of his cock, earning you the most gorgeous moan from Seonghwa as his eyes roll back and his eyebrows scrunched.

“Baby-fuck!-just what are you thinking about? Squeezing me like this? Oh god”, his knuckles are whitening from his grip on the arm rest. He pulls out before starting a pace to fuck you with, and soon enough it’s only the sounds of skin slapping, both of your moans and the feeling of Seonghwa’s cock just pounding right into the perfect angle of your cunt that exists in this damn universe. You wouldn’t ask for more.

Your brain was becoming pulp, only soft sobs every time Seonghwa’s balls deep into you. You could only focus on how his biceps tensed against the fabric as his tits fucking bounced every time his slams his cock into you—which you definitely see it too—the way his pants hang just at his lower thighs, and his cock is just disappearing into your pussy, drawing out squelching sounds that were borderline obscene. Drops of sweat splatter onto your dress as he leans in to rest his forehead onto yours.

“So good. So fucking good to be inside you like this”, he curses, trying to not the feeling of his orgasm overpower him. As you were gradually losing yourself to the pleasure, he suddenly pulls back completely, and instructs you to face the night scenery with your ass out. He crumpled your dress to your waist, and his cock enters you again, causing you to draw a sharp breath. He doesn’t let you adjust—he just starts fucking you raw like that, leaving your mouth agape and eyes blown out from the pleasure.

He’s able to reach even deeper part of your pussy now, and he makes sure you fucking cry for him. “H-Hwa!”, you try to speak in between sobs. “Oh god, oh god. I can’t. It’s so deep.” Your hands barely have the strength to hold onto the rails as he is railing you from behind.

“That’s my pussy. Milk me dry baby”, Seonghwa grunts, his fucking becoming more erratic, admiring the way your ass bounces off his cock so naturally. “I’m cumming all the way in baby. Be a good girl and take it, yeah?”

And a drawn out moan fills your ears as his cum floods your abused hole, and you cry out as your second orgasm hits you, clenching his cock even more. A loud slap reverberates into the night as his hand lands on your ass, causing you to flinch and squeal.

“That’s it, baby. Oh, you’re such a good girl”, he hums, holding your hips as far as his cock would let him drive into you, letting cum dribble down your inner thighs. He pulls out slowly, admiring the way your cunt convulses, small loads of his cum and yours leak out of you. You release your grip from the railings and fall right into his arms, as he plants a loving kiss on your temple before whispering,

“I promise you’re the only one for me, baby.”

[marcusakito]

Counting Cats

Lyney x Overworked!gn!reader

Lyney visits your home after you miss his show, thinking something was amiss. He finds you still awake, busy with work, looking like you havent slept in days. And so, he helps you catch some sleep. I got this idea from Lyney's good night voiceline in the teapot. It's a little strange I couldn't find that like anywhere online?

CW: None, just pure wholesome fluff.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ �� : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

"Lyney, you're overreacting." Lynette spoke, following her brother who was headed to your house. They had just finished a show at Opera Epiclese, and Lyney was looking forward to seeing you there. You always came to his shows, yet this night was different. It was the first time he had seen your seat empty.

"I'm not overreacting, Lynette!" Lyney explained. "[Name] never misses my shows, maybe they fell sick or maybe there's an emergency."

"Or maybe they're busy. Like a normal person." Lynette sighed, knowing that her brother wouldn't listen to reason. Not when it came to you, anyway. "I'll be heading home."

"Ah, yes. Go get some sleep, Lynette. I'll head home after making sure [Name] is alright."

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Finally making it to your house, Lyney knocked on the door. He hummed to himself as he waited for you. It was taking quite a while, perhaps you were already asleep? No, it wasn't that late yet, maybe you were getting ready?

"Just a minute!" He heard you call from inside. Not long after, you opened the door and found your boyfriend with his signature charming smile. You blinked a few times, trying to clear your vision. "... Lyney?"

"It's lovely to see you, ma chérie!" He beamed, pulling a rainbow rose out of thin air and pinning it onto your shirt. "You missed my show, I was a little worried."

"Your show?" You reiterated, confused at first until it hit you. "Archons, that was tonight! I'm so sorry, Lyney, I didn't mean to miss it-" a finger was placed upon your lips, shushing you. You looked at the blonde, he had a sympathetic look on his face.

"I'm not upset, I'm just glad nothing serious happened to you, that's all." He leaned in, placing a soft kiss upon your cheek. You felt your shoulders loosen as you let out a content sigh. This man truly had a way with you, able to make stress go away with just a kiss. "But more importantly, you look exhausted, mon amour. Are you alright?"

"I'm alright, I just... Didn't get enough sleep the past few days. Work's been too much lately, I can't sleep well because of it."

"Well that simply won't do!" Lyney took your hand in his, bringing you back inside and into your bedroom. The desk and floor of your room was littered with all kinds of work related powers, and the sheets of your bed were just haphazardly thrown to the side. You hadn't noticed how messy had things had gotten till now.

"Let me clean up, then we can-"

"Tut-tut-tut! No objections." He quickly placed a finger to your lips. With a playful smirk, he headed over to your bed, fluffing up the pillows and tidying the sheets before sitting down upon it. Humming contently to himself, he patted the spot on the bed next to him. "Come to bed, dear, you won't regret it. It's comfy, warm, and best of all, I'm here!"

You playfully rolled your eyes at your boyfriend's antics. You indulged him, not like you had much choice— you know he would've dragged you to bed anyway. As soon as you sat down, Lyney took you in his arms, embracing you tight around the waist and climbing onto the bed. With his back against a pillow and the bed's headboard, he pulled you close. Your head rested against his chest, as you felt the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest, the soft beats of his heart. 'It beats only for you.' He'd often remind you. And you believe him, of course. How could you not? From the gifts to his kisses, and the charming words that leave you hanging on every single one, you had no doubt his love for you was true.

"[Name]? Are you alright? You've been spacing out for a while now." You snapped out of your thoughts upon hearing Lyney's voice.

"I'm fine, Lyney." You smiled reassuringly, snuggling closer to him. "I really appreciate that you want to help me sleep, but I don't think that's going to be easy."

"Well, I always do love a challenge. But this is beyond that." Lyney brushed his fingers through your hair, untangling some of the knots in your hair but took care not to tug too hard. "Not getting enough sleep is bad for your health. I don't want you falling asleep at my shows, too."

"Oh? So that's your true motive?" You couldn't help but laugh, with Lyney laughing along with you. "What's your plan on helping me fall asleep, hm?"

"It's simple, we'll count cats. Now close your eyes, and let your imagination take hold of you." You follow his instruction, shutting your eyes and focusing on his voice. "There we are. Now imagine... The bed is a fluffy cloud, cozy and warm. And on that cloud are floating grin-malkin cats, ready to jump over a ring, like at a circus show, mon amour. Oh, there's a grin-malkin cat, ready to jump. That's one grin-malkin, two grin-malkin, three grin- malkin..."

Lyney continued to count and by the 20th cat, he glanced down at your sleeping figure, seeing you finally sound asleep. He smiled softly, getting under the covers to cuddle with you, resting your head on his chest. Placing a kiss on your forehead, he closed his eyes to join you in slumber.

"Sweet dreams, [Name]."

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Hope you guys enjoyed reading this, to be honest, I was a little scared to post more but seeing as a lot of people liked my first Lyney x reader, I got the confidence to write more. I have an idea for a Kabukimono x reader, it'll be up hopefully before the end of the week!

[stargleam-star]

My thoughts on Wind

Finally finished reading book 4 of A Starless Clan. I've got a lot of opinions on it, as expected. It's going to be long and rambly. There will be major spoilers under the read more. My thoughts might only make sense to me so I understand if nobody wants to read this, but I really want to get out my feelings on this book

Shout out to @shadowfern for sending me the link to the pdf! Tysm again!!!

Let's start this off by talking about the best girl in the whole world: Frostpaw. Oh my sweet baby. They really put her Through It this book. She was so right to come forward during the gathering in chapter one to speak out against Splashtail.

But then Duskfur. Oooh my god Duskfur. Literally what was her fucking damage? Frostpaw is her freaking GRANDDAUGHTER. But I guess because Frostpaw mentioned Curlfeather being an evil mastermind, Duskfur was pissed about it? Which is understandable. Who wants to hear that their child is a murderer, someone who organized the death of important figures in your society?

But then she goes on to accuse Frostpaw of being a liar and a manipulator because *gasp* she was a manipulated teen who couldn't figure out what was right and what was wrong!? She was tricked by Curlfeather into being a medicine cat, as Splashtail reiterates. She does eventually get real visions, though. However, because she had a few false visions, nobody will believe her about them. But like. Frostpaw is a kid essentially, with not a lot of training yet, and who doesn't have much of a guide when it comes to visions because Mothwing doesn't get them. How was Frostpaw supposed to distinguish what was real and what was a dream all on her own?

Regardless Duskfur is a bitch in the first chapter who backs up Splashtail and his condescending speech about how much Frostpaw had been through and how much of a poir little meow meow she is because of it

And then she proceeds to get exiled. Her clanmates know she's been through so much, and yet they allow her to be cast out from her home away from the support of her family

A family which comprises of mostly bastards at this current moment, including Duskfur, Icewing, and Podlight. Shout out to the do-nothing siblings Graypaw and Mistpsw though

I hate the characterization of Icewing in this first chapter because she doesn't do much. Podlight is another creature entirely. He's so vile. Gives off evil henchman vibes, almost on the same wavelength as Darkstripe

I'll come back to those cats later, let's get back to talking about Frostpaw. After getting exiled she has to frantically look between the leaders to see who might take her into their clan, so she doesn't become a rogue. Squirrelstar almost agrees but because she doesn't want to cause trouble she hesitates (we'll also get back to this characterization later). Tigerheartstar instead offers Frostpaw a temporary place in Shadowclan

If I had a nickle for every time Tigerheartstar took in an exiled Riverclan medicine cat I'd have 2 nickles. Which isn't a lot but its weird it happened twice

I love the dynamic between Frostpaw and Shadowsight. I've seen people shipping them but I literally cannot picture them being romatic with each other. I get big brother little sister vibes from them. I feel like Puddleshine's wariness of Frostpaw was dumb, though.

Puddleshine did eventually come around, when he snuck to the moon pool with Frostpaw to see if Splashtail would go to get his nine lives. I hate how he didn't start believing Frostpaw until Riverstar appeared though. Splashtail and Podlight sitting around, laughing about how useless Starclan is and how they're literally at the moon pool just to say they went, doesn't convince Puddleshine that Frostpaw was telling the truth. But Riverstar hopping over their heads unseen just to wink at Puddleshine and Frostpaw convinces him. Ok.

Great job guiding the living btw Riverstar. Clearly not doing anything or saying anything beyond that one tiny scene was helpful

Anyways, Puddleshine, finally believing Frostpaw, goes with her to tell Tigerheartstar about everything was great. Actually I hate to say if but I really liked Tigerheartstar this book. He was literally the only tolerable and competent leader throughout the entire thing. Even better than Squirrelstar

Speaking of Squirrelstar. Oh boy.... What the hell did they do to her?

I expected the Erins to do one of four things with Squirrelstar. 1) Kill her by the end of this book (and say she lied about getting her nine lives). 2) Make her a very aggressive leader. 3) Leave her character alone and write her as she has been. Or 4) make her incompetent and have her be the first deposed leader

Instead, they made Squirrelstar the most do nothing leader imaginable. To the point where other characters in the text itself were mentioning how she's doing nothing at all, and how unexpected that is. Squirrelstar states she doesn't want to shake things up because of being a new leader. She's trying to gain the other leaders' respect

Which I could understand. If this was any other character in the entirety of warriors, minus Firestar. Squirrelflight was always the type to be headstrong doing things her own way, to follow her heart, and do what needs to be done especially for the good of others. Squirrelstar even mentions that about herself! "As Squirrelflight I'd agree with you. But as Squirrelstar I'm afraid I can't." There is literally no difference though, she's still the same cat!!!

I understand she's also trying to protect Thunderclan and keep her warriors safe. She's responsible for all these lives. But she was responsible for them before as well! She was deputy ffs. A clan deputy is responsible for the lives of their clanmates as much as a leader is. Squilf even acted as temporary leader, and still did not behave like this at that time! I don't understand why she had to be written as someone too hesitant to act because of fear of being judged. Squilf was literally never like that before until this book. She's basically a new character and I think I hated this most of all out of everything else in Wind.

Actually none of the leaders except Tigerheartstar want to act in this book. Squirrelstar and Harestar both want to wait to stop Splashtail until Riverclan is ready to stop him. In the old books though, if there was something going on in the other clans the leaders didn't like, they'd fight about it (for example: how Shadowckan and Winclan teamed up to raid Thunderclan after discovering they were housing Brokentail as their prisoner. Or how Lionclan first formed to stop Tigerstar from ruling over all the clans.)

Also now that I mention fighting, there are literally no battles waged in the entire book. The closest thing we get is the battle training in Riverclan camp where Splashtail was forcing cats to fight each other aggressively with claws out.

And the most violent 2 scenes in the book were when a tree fell on Winclan's nursery, and Splashtail killed Harelight in front of his clan because Harelight dared to have a different opinion than him

Harelight deserved better tbh. He was one of the best characters in the story and he barely had a part to play. Rip king

Let's talk about some other characters now. Nightheart for instance. He was actually also tolerable in this book. I like how his character has progressed. He's growing up and isn't as much of a jerk like he was in the beginning, good for him.

I liked his relationship with Wasp and Waffle. Though I'm surprised neither of them insisted on following Frostpaw. Especially with how determined Wasp was to become a Riverclan cat. I'm shocked he didn't loyally follow Frostpaw wherever she went due to her connection to Riverstar. Instead both cats went with Nightheart to Thunderclan which was fine for a while

Nightheart makes for a good mentor, surprisingly. I like the way he taught Wasp and Waffle about things. Though I don't like that he was chosen to be Wafflepaw's mentor. It makes sense, but like other characters said, the apprentices could have gone to more experienced cats than Nightheart and Co.

The relationship between Nightheart and Sunbeam is cute here and there but their chemistry is almost non existent. Sunbeam has more chemistry with Finchlight, Bayshine, and Myrtlebloom than Nightheart. Finchlight should steal Sunbeam from Nightheart sorry not sorry

Sunbeam's turn now. Once again her chapters felt the weakest compared to the other POVs. She doesn't really bring anything new to the table, her perspective shows nearly the same things Nightheart's does and her personality is kind of generic. The only thing she has is mommy angst, and love for Nightheart. She worries about her family in most of her chapters, when they don't really want her around unless she helps them and/or stays with them. Berryheart is especially mean towards Sunbeam. She feels betrayed, sure, but that's still her kid who's trying to heal the disgusting infection that slowly killing her. Look at that Sunbeam's so uninteresting I started talking about Berryheart instead. Let's dive into that more

I didn't think Berryheart would have that much influence over the plot anymore tbh. But this stupid cat is gripping it tightly with the tips if her grubby little paws refusing to let go. Throughout most of her mentioned moments she's slowly wasting away from a nasty wound she obtained by being too stubborn to get off the road. She refuses treatment from Sunbeam because she didn't agree with mommy dearest and follow her to exile so now Berryheart's basically disowned Sunbeam (its never stated but implied by her behavior).

Another reason Berryheart refuses medicine is because they are "clan herbs" and she refuses anything from the clans. Although idk how she was able to tell the herbs came from a clan vs Sunbeam finding them on her own but whatever. Then several chapters later she's magically joined Riverclan and proclaims to be one of the most loyal cats there??? Idk how Berryheart went from being a diehard Shadowclan loyalist, to a bitter rogue hating all the clans, to a Riverclan cat. Sunbeam thinks it might be due to Berryheart fighting to survive but by the time she's shown in Riverclan she seems almost back to full health. Maybe she's planning to destroy the clans now, from the inside out, starting with Riverclan. Who knows. I guess we'll find out in the next book or two. I'm disappointed Berryheart didn't die and that they're continuing on with her as a villain. I'm on the fence of whether I like her being a villain anymore. On one hand, yay a villain who's clanborn and a female. On the other, she's a really annoying and a poorly written villain

Moving on to other, more minor characters: Mothwing Duskfur, and Icewing. We don't see much of them (especially past the first chapter). When we do, though, they're talking to Frostpaw about how right she is and how none of them want Splashtail in power anymore.

This is an especially surprisingly development from Duskfur who earlier was very outspoken about accepting him. The in-story excuse is that Riverclan just wanted a leader finally, and were willing to accept that Podlight suddenly wanted to be a healer and magically had a connection to Starclan which told him that Splashtail was their new ruler. The real excuse is that it's piss poor writing and the Erins make whatever cat do whatever is necessary for the plot, even if that means their personality needs to takes an entire 180 in the middle of the book.

Icewing is still pretty useless in the story, which is a shame because she had a decent roll last book. Mothwing's character stayed somewhat the same, though. She's still kind of mean to Frostpaw. She's sort of a do-nothing, too, but not as much as the leaders. She wants to make a change but doesn't act at first because then Riverclan would be left without a proper medicine cat, which is a more valid excuse for her inaction compared to Squirrelstar's, Tigerheartstar's, and Harestar's.

Lightleap was mentioned in one chapter and she had an attitude. What a tragedy. Blazefire and Dovewing weren't mentioned at all which was a huge loss, because we lovewing Dovewing here, and I just think Blazefire is neat (I like his name, I'm biased purely because of that)

Whistlepaw was really good in this book, as she was in the last. I feel like she was unjustly punished for helping Frostpaw as I stated in this post here, I won't repeat myself about that point again. I liked her during the Windckan chapters, when the tree fell on the nursery. Her mentioning the kit she was trying to save, Leafkit, was her baby sister was sooo nice. The Erins rarely write cats acknowledging younger siblings as such so that was cute. It made the worry and care Whisperpaw expressed during that scene all the better because it wasn't just a medicine cat trying to do their job and save someone. It was a sister desperately trying to get to their sister. Whistlepaw is my second favorite character in this arc next to Frostpaw and not just because of my next point.

Whistlepaw × Frostpaw is the most superior ship in the book, and dare I say throughout the current arc. Their dialog with each other once Sunbeam rescued Leafkit was so gay it was amazing. Like legit their interactions with each other here as well as through most of A Starless Clan have more chemistry than any other pairings do

Also this is random but I feel like either Whistlepaw or Leafkit will get a POV next arc. Probably Leafkit because the writers took the time to describe what she looks like even though Leafkit only appeared for this one scene. Please Erins give us a Winclan POV

I suppose I should talk about Splashtail now. He's a really lame villain tbh. I'm glad we have a clanborn bad guy for a change, but he literally sucks. He wants to be leader because he wants to make Riverclan stronger, great. And then he proceedes to do that by having his warriors beat the shit out of each other to toughen them up and make them seem like the strongest clan. Ok. Idk how that accomplishes anything rn. I'm sure this means Riverclan will get to cause the one fight scene that happens next book, hooray /s

No but seriously I see where this whole evil Splashtail plot is going. He doesn't like Starclan because he doesn't want to listen to what they say or follow their rules. The moral of this arc is going to be that following Starclan is the right thing to do, they are the ultimate good, and anybody who doesn't follow Starclan is a dirty heretic. It's christian religious propaganda and I'm tired of it, but whatever I'm to obsessed with these stupid cats to stop reading

Overall this book was very disappointing and boring. I'm sad to see this arc taking such a boring turn, and I'm worried about what the next books will bring. The arc was so promising and now it sucks, tragic

Thanks for coming to my Ted Talk. Members of the Frostpaw Defense Club rise up!

I give this book 3/10 Stars

[bearpillowmonster]

Virtue's Last Reward

In some ways it's better than 999 but in some it's worse. 

The characters are pretty memorable, I was afraid it'd be staler than the eccentric personalities of the first game but it remains. A plus is that our new main character, Sigma, doesn't talk. (Well, he does, but he has no audible dialogue so he's not as annoying.) It carries over that problem from the last one too where they overexplain things like it's a children's game but it's rated M otherwise. Visually, it switches the 2D sprites with 3D models, which can be considered a downgrade in some ways but it's easier to navigate the rooms though with proper 3D environments versus simulated for the DS (it's the 3DS now) but it's put on this nice collection on the PC so it looks smoother and cleaner.

The one complaint I have about the port in general is that it could've cut some things out. I imagine the transition scenes were made to mask loading screens but we don't need them anymore and they're more tedious than Resident Evil's. While not as often, they take longer because they'll go somewhere and it shows them as a blinking dot on the map and the route they're taking (not that it matters most of the time, when it does matter, they reiterate the sequence anyway) but they'll show them going across an entire floor, go to the elevator, stop, show them pressing the button, the elevator comes, wait for the elevator to descend, beep, open doors again, back to map, show them moving to their destination again, it's just meaningless. And there's a skip but it's only for stuff you've seen before (in any route) so it usually doesn't include the transitions and when it does, it needs to be activated before it starts because it doesn't give you the option during.

And also (...) they have a tendency to (...) whenever (...) there isn't anybody (...) saying anything and (...) they'll show it (...) for each character. There were some parts where my experience was an error but I couldn't find proof of others being that way. Gaulem Bay for example, there are rows of (nonspoiling here) "lights" that some are on and some are off and you use that pattern to activate a puzzle, however, mine spelled out something different than what it was supposed to, I double and triple checked in game even after I looked up the result and the same answer got back to me every time.

All that remained was the ending. Would I find the outcome better than the last one? Because the other one reached a little too far in terms of what you could've predicted with the face thing. Well...this ending isn't much better. I actually had this game pegged as "great", I even accepted as far as the Phi ending and would've given it a 3.5/5 but it was afterwards that reversed everything.

Literally. It's like Meet the Robinsons but not as a good thing. It takes the time to explain every aspect of it and it's boring, because it's a large infodump and exposition for the next entry in the series...as an ending. So yeah, it seems like it's going to be a complete package but it's not a complete story, while 999 was at least contained enough to seem satisfying. And I mean it really threw the kitchen sink at you too. It has the regular endings and then two hidden ones before credits roll but then two more after credits roll so it never really knows when to stop either. People complain about Kingdom Hearts but that's nothing, this is the real menace, overcomplicating and recontextualizing everything. Kingdom Hearts explains its way over a whole series of games, that's people's only problem and it's an outdated problem now that all the games can be bought in one package for the same system but imagine taking the plot and obscurities of those games and doing it all at once at the end of just one game. "Imagine a cat. Imagine a truck. Imagine a line. This is my name. This is my actual name. This is what I am. This is what I actually am. Let's review our history. Just use E = mc2. Imagine the relationship between classical mechanics and modern physics"....You think I'm joking? You think I just pulled all those out of my ass?!

So I don't think I'm going to play Zero Time Dilemma anymore.

[fragileizywriting]

flp alice in wonderland fic where adrien is both the white rabbit and the red queen while marinette is alice, she chases adrien who has a mask on

“come back!” she cries out, “i can help you!”

“so sorry,” he answers, not entirely hearing her. “i’m very late, you know.”

“late for what?”

“you know it’s bad manners to keep a spirit from continuing on.”

“wh��� adrien!”

she falls into an ocean of her own tears when she follows him through a door, with adrien nowhere to be seen and the caterpillar luka tells her that the water is how much she’s cried.

“you would cry too if you’d lost a friend,” she tells him.

“i have,” he tells her. “maybe all these tears aren’t just yours, after all.”

nino and alya and alix are having a tea party. they ask her when is the next time she’ll bake a cake, because her cakes are so much better than theirs.

“when you three promise to have tea with me,” she finds herself saying.

“but we always have tea with you!”

“no, no. more tea.”

they all laugh.

she tries having a slice and either the three are much too embarassed to let her have one, constantly stealing it off her plate, or when she finally takes a bite it’s nothing but mush.

marinette keeps getting followed by chat, a foggy cat thing, who eats off of her plate when she’s at the table. she feels embarassed of all things to have him there, trying to collect him off the table, but alix alya and nino don’t mind him at all. they call him by name. marinette doesn’t recognize any of them yet somehow knows all their names instinctively. it feels like home, but not at all, and she’s so confused by it.

she finally makes it to the castle only to find the red queen golden king finally sitting down on his throne and telling her thank you. for the friendship, for the happiness, for the love she’s given him.

“i’m sorry, i can’t come with you in this state.”

“what do you mean?”

“i’m a spirit,” he tells her. “i’m not real. not like you.”

“that’s not true.”

“i can’t come with you,” he reiterates. “i’m sorry.”

“what—”

she wakes up in tears when he takes off his mask and it’s chat noir on the other side.

[holylulusworld]

Their Kitten (7)

Summary: You’re their kitten.

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Mafia!Ransom Drysdale x fem!Reader, Mafia!Ari Levinson x fem!Reader, Mafia!Andy Barber x fem!Reader

Characters: Jake Jensen, Lloyd Hansen, Rachel Reiter

Warnings: angst, language, polyamory, soft mobsters, fluff, head the individual warnings under A/N2

A/N: A shorter chapter to reveal the mystery about the video.

Badass kitten & her tamers

<< Part 6

A/N2: Be aware, I’ll reveal what Rachel and Lloyd did in the video! If you don’t want to get spoiled, don’t read the following warnings: Everything is only implied. There is no explicit scene (mentions of diaper fetishism /fisting (anally/male rec), figging, mommy kink

“Please help me find that video. I wanna know what kind of shit Rachel did with that guy. Please,” you poke Jensen’s thigh. “You know, I could ask Ran to pay you more money. Maybe he’ll even buy you a nice new computer. You know. The one you were talking about.”

Jensen swallows thickly. He would die to get his hands on the brand-new model no one should know about. “You think he can get me one?” he licks his lips.

“He will do anything to make me happy. If I tell him I want one for my favorite tech nerd, he’ll buy it for me.”

“Hmm…no. They will kill me if I show you the video. It’s kinky and sick shit, sweetie. I don’t think you want to watch it,” Jensen tries to resist your pout and puppy dog look. “Don’t give me those eyes.”

“Please, Jensy. You are my favorite tech guy,” you whine as Jensen fights your influence. “You know, I do kinky shit all the time with my men. We are the masters of kinky shit.”

“Y/N believe me this is the kind of sick shit that you’ll never forget about,” crossing your arms over your chest, you huff.

“Try me, Jensen. I bet you can’t shock me. I saw and did things you never even heard about,” you challenge. “Please. I’m bored. They won’t let me leave the house and I got nothing to do while they are hunting Hansen and Rachel down.”

“I can’t help you. If Ransom doesn’t kill me, Ari will. He’s like a feral animal when it comes to you,” Jake shakes his head as you beg him to help you again. “I like my body with my head on top of it.”

“Aw, Jensen,” you smirk darkly. “Ari won’t rip your head off, darling. He will cut your cock off. I bet you will miss your dick even more.”

“D-id you just threaten my dick?” he gasps. “Please don’t be like that. I always helped you with your phone and all.”

“I really wanna see that video.”

“Holy fuck,” your eyes grow wide. You giggle as Jake tries not to look at the monitor. “why don’t you have a look too.”

“Nah, that’s not my kind of shit. She’s hot, though. But that,” he points at the laptop on your lap, “is sick, and gross…and…it should be illegal.”

“He looks kinda cute wearing diapers,” you grin as Jake shudders. He refuses to look at the monitor and scrunches up his nose. “Uh-oh, she ripped the diapers off his ass. Damn, she just called him her good boy.”

“Can we stop watching this stuff?”

“I wanna know what happens,” he huffs as you pump up the volume. “Dude, what is she doing? Wait-she shoves something up his ass.”

“I know. It’s ginger.”

Jakes scrunches up his nose.

You watch the video with curiosity and amusement.

“That’s lame. I got no clue why you all made such a secret out of this video. He wears a diaper and calls her mommy. I did much hotter things with my men.”

“If it bores you, we can stop watching the video. Let’s just watch something else. You like those cat videos, right?” Jake tries. “Please.”

“No. I need to see all of it,” you hum as Rachel gets lube out. “Holy fuck, she just poured half of the bottle over her hand…” leaning closer you stare at the monitor. “Oh—I get it now.”

Your mouth falls open. “That’s just gross, Y/N.”

“Dude, she shoves her fist up his ass.”

You snort.

Jake retches.

“Still gross.”

“I mean, none of my men would let me do this to them, but it’s kinda,” you hum to yourself. “Nah, I don’t want to put my fist up anyone’s ass. Not my kind of kink.”

“Thank fuck,” Ransom suddenly stands next to you. Sometimes you believe he’s more cat than man. “Y/N, didn’t I tell you to not watch the video.”

“I’m not some child, Ran,” slamming the laptop shut you huff. “That’s not even the kinkiest porn I ever watched.”

“Jensen, we told you to not show the video to Y/N, didn’t we,” Andy steps inside the room. He’s not in the mood to discuss Lloyd Hansen’s preferences in the bedroom. That’s for sure.

“I threatened him. It’s not Jensen’s fault.”

“We said that you shall not watch the video, Y/N,” Ari lifts your chin with his index finger. “You do as we say if it comes to business and Lloyd Hansen.”

“I wanna watch the rest of the video,” you push Ari’s hand away. “If you believe you are forgiven, you are delusional. Stop acting like I’m a fragile doll. You never had a problem with dragging me into your life.”

“Darling, we do so to protect you,” Andy softly says. “Our world is a dark one. Bloody and dangerous. We only try to keep you out of this part of our lives.”

“I want to know everything about your lives, Andy. I’m part of it, an important part. Please don’t shut me out again,” you look up at Andy. “Please don’t do this to me. What happened at that boutique happened because you didn’t tell me the truth.”

“Kitten, we will keep a few things to ourselves. But all of us will try to be honest with you from now on,” Ransom takes the laptop to put it away.

“And no more watching other guys getting their ass fisted. That’s a hard limit,” Ari tuts.

“Aw, but he looked so cute getting his ass destroyed by your favorite girl,” batting your eyelashes you grin at Ari. “Maybe you let me ruin yours too.”

“Hard limit.”

You chuckle at Ari’s pained expression.

“Fine. If you promise to not hide things from me, I’ll not watch Lloyd get fucked again. Pinky promise,” you coo. “I’m going to be your good girl.”

“How can you not know how to get inside the mansion, Rachel?” frustrated Lloyd kicks a chair out of his way. “I need to get my hands on their kitten. You promised to help me, Rachel!”

“For fuck’s sake, stop bugging me, Lloyd. I promised to help you, and I did. You messed shit up as you wanted to scare little miss sunshine first,” Rachel talks back. “I gave you a time window and you fucked it up. I couldn’t stop Tucker from calling her lovers.”

“I paid you well, Rachel. I expect you to do your job,” Lloyd growls. He didn’t get the chance to get a taste of you, and it makes him furious. “No more money until you handed her over.”

“Hand her over,” she chuckles humorously. “You are out of your mind, Hansen. They will kill me if I try to bring her out of the house. It’s a fucking fortress since you tried to kidnap her.”

“You’ll find a way. I’m sure of it.”

Lloyd slides his index finger over his mustache, smirking darkly. He can’t wait to get you alone…

>> Part 8

Tags in reblog.

[trektraveler]

Nightingale Chapter Thirteen: Broken Pieces and Jagged Edges

Summary: Jensen Ackles seemed to have it all. A hit television series fifteen years running, a budding music career and a stunning wife. To the casual observer, his life was perfect. But it was a façade. No more real than the supernatural world created on a soundstage.

That day on the lake had started with uncertainty, but when he pulled you from the water everything became clear. The truth was, he’d been the one drowning.

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Reader, Jensen x Reader, Jensen x You

Characters: Jensen Ackles, Jared Padalecki, Genevieve Padalecki, Misha Collins, Reader

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Hospitals, Drowning, Fluff, Angst, Smut, unprotected sex

Chapter Thirteen: Broken Pieces and Jagged Edges

Word Count: 6966

Author’s Notes: This is a complete work of fiction about a real life person. The circumstances are totally made up and are in no way a commentary on the fantastic Jensen Ackles or his family.

This is also a unique reader insert story as I have given the reader a physical description including hair color, eye color and body type. Hopefully you can still lose yourself in the utter fantasy where Jensen is the hero and you are ripe for rescuing!

Additional Notes: The response to this story has been beyond my expectations! You guys have been the best! Thank you for continuing to read my work and encourage me, its kept my eye on the prize :)

Additional Additional Notes: I feel the need to reiterate that this is fiction and in no way is a reflection on real life people. Jensen's Ex Wife in this fic is not nice. Ex's are ex's for a reason and aside from physical appearance and name, the Danneel in this story bears no resemblance to the RLP. Fiction is just a place to lose yourself for a while, not a place to hurt people.

Series Masterlist

“Oh, so you’re alive! I thought maybe you wasted away, and your cat was eating the face off your decomposing body.”

“Hi Maddy,” you deadpanned, opening the door wide so she and the twins could enter your apartment. “Hi munchkins.”

“Hi Y/N,” chirped Casey, instantly running off to explore.

“Your cat eats faces?” Chrissy’s brow puckered with worry.

You reached down to pick him up and rest him on your hip, “I don’t have a cat. Your face and all your other body parts are safe here, buddy.”

“Well, it’s clean,” Maddy said as she peeled off her coat and gloves. “In a sad, divorced dad living in a motel room, kind of way.”

“Glad you approve.”

She cast a critical eye around the bare bones dwelling, “I wouldn’t go that far.”

You set Chrissy down so he could play with his sister who had discovered your stethoscope and blood pressure cuff in the bathroom cabinet. “What are you guys doing here? I thought you were going shopping?”

“We came to pick you up; you’re coming with us.”

“I’m not fit for public appearances.”

“Not looking like that, you’re not,” she agreed.

Your shadowed eyes looked away on a sigh and Maddy grabbed your hands. Coaxing you to look at her. When you did, she gave you a sad smile.

“Come on. Wash your face, change your clothes, and grab your coat. Let’s go stimulate the economy.”

It was just a few short days before Christmas and after seeing your pitiful apartment in person, Maddy insisted on decorating for the season. Hours later, you had hit every shop conceivable and put a hefty dent in your bank account. The twins conked out on your bed while you and Maddy put up your new tree in the corner of your living room.

Several strands of lights and a few ornaments made a hell of a difference. There were wreaths, stockings, garlands, and ribbons. It did have that fresh out of the box look, but it still warmed everything up to the point that it wasn’t so painfully vacant.

“I ran into him yesterday,” Maddy said, as she wrapped tinsel around the tree. “He looked like shit.”

You nodded, listening as you tried to focus, placing the glittering star shaped ornaments on the branches.

“He offered to help carry my groceries, like nothing had even happened!”

“He’s a good man.”

“I hate him, and I told him to get bent,” Maddy spat, pouring each of you a hefty serving of spiked eggnog.

You accepted the drink with an arched eyebrow.

“Alright, I didn’t, but I really wanted to. He deserves it!”

“No, he doesn’t. He’s hurting just as much as I am and hating him won’t fix it.”

Maddy took a large swallow of eggnog and added another shot of brandy for good measure. “He was going to ask about you. I could tell, it was written all over his face, but I bolted as soon as the elevator doors opened. I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.”

“I appreciate your solidarity, but you don’t need to alienate yourself from your neighbors on my account.”

“How are you so balanced about this?

“I’m applying for sainthood,” you shrugged.

“We should be raging!” Maddy shook her fists for emphasis. “Drinking regrettable amounts of tequila and swearing off men while listening to Taylor Swift!”

“I don’t really like Taylor Swift.”

Maddy shook her head in despair, “You’re in worse shape than I thought.”

You plopped down on the couch, which immediately sagged sadly under your weight. “I don’t want to rage. There are so many things about this that don’t make sense. But at the end of the day, it comes down to trust. I’ve lost his trust, whether it was my fault or not.”

“It’s not your fault. None of this is your fault.”

You drew your legs up under your backside to make room for Maddy to sit beside you. “Jensen’s been burned before by people who had an ulterior motive. People in that industry are inundated with it all the time. Everything is fake. Not to mention his cheating ex-wife.”

“You are not her,” Maddy insisted, sinking down on the vacant end of the couch. “He must know that.”

“I thought he did. Oh Maddy, you didn’t see the look in his eyes. He was devastated. He looked at me like I had betrayed him just like she did.”

You felt like crying as the familiar tightness started in your chest, squeezing your heart. But you’d spent so much of the past week in tears that you doubted you could produce another drop at this point. And you’d promised yourself that you wouldn’t. You needed to get on with it. You still had a life to live and that was why you invited Maddy and the kids over. Nothing like a kickass mom to kick your ass when you needed it.

“You did the right thing, Y/N. You did,” she nodded for emphasis. “Sacrificing your self-worth won’t cure his trust issues. It doesn’t work that way.”

“I know, I know,” you whispered. “But why does doing the right thing feel so shitty?”

“Because you’re in love with him.”

You nodded and Maddy suddenly yelped. Jumping to her feet while rubbing her ass cheek. A rusty spring was sticking up through the cushion she had been sitting on.

Maddy gave you a disgusted look, “New couch, first thing tomorrow.”

Jensen was at his parent’s house for exactly twenty-seven hours before he made his escape. Going home was always a balm for him. He reconnected with his family and could leave his public persona at the door. Not the case this year. There was paparazzi waiting for him at the Dallas airport, a few of them even followed him to his old neighborhood. They only retreated after they encountered the security enforced at the gated community.

He was greeted at the door by his mother and a pile of Amazon boxes. The gifts he’d ordered over the past few weeks, many of them for you.

“Sorry honey, I didn’t know which ones to get rid of.”

He felt so alone despite being surrounded by friends and family. It was as if their presence accentuated the one person who was glaringly absent. God, he missed you! The term heartbreak was literal, there was this ever-present ache right in the center of his chest. Sometimes it hurt to even breathe! Just a word or a glance, a commercial on tv, a song on the radio. Everything reminded him of you, and it hurt like hell.

After he’d had his fill of endless explanations and pitying looks, Jensen pulled a baseball cap down over his head and borrowed his brother’s truck. He wasn’t even sure where he was going until he saw the flickering neon sign advertising cold beer and bottomless wings. It was just the sort of hole in the wall Dean would have loved.

“What would Dean do?” Jensen muttered as he pulled into the parking lot.

He knew from previous experience that it was only a temporary solution, but it would do for the moment. The moment, turned into days. It wasn’t the alcohol that helped as much as the strange surroundings. He didn’t want to be home, any home he had felt wrong now because you weren’t there. It was like you’d taken that with you when you walked away from him that night. Or perhaps it never really existed. Like so many things about you… it simply wasn’t real.

It was Jensen’s last night in Texas. In the morning, he would head back to Vancouver where he could lose himself in his work. God, did he need something positive to focus on. Something besides himself! He’d spent the last three weeks as a permanent fixture at table number five and even he had to admit, a good drying out was in order.

“Buy a girl a drink?”

He was pulled from his brooding thoughts by a voice he hoped to never hear again. He didn’t even bother to look up.

“Buy it yourself, you’ve got plenty of my money to do so.”

She was just as he remembered. Her red hair was highlighted this time and longer. Probably those fancy extensions she liked so much. Tanned skin and pucker perfect lips. The living embodiment of the Hollywood standard.

Her dark chocolate eyes were expertly accentuated by smokey liner, yet they held no warmth. She smirked as she sat across from him and he wondered how in the hell he had ever been attracted to her.

“Leave.”

Danneel signaled to the bartender and sighed, “That’s no way to talk to your amicable ex. I thought we were on decent terms.”

“Yeah, I live my life and you crawl back to yours. Why are you here anyway? This place doesn’t even have Wi-Fi.”

“It’s not my usual style, but I was in town visiting a few friends and heard you were around. Thought I’d swing by and wish you a Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” Jensen intoned. “Now get out.”

The bartender dropped off another pitcher of beer along with an extra pint glass. With deliberate movements, she poured herself a glass and topped of his. After a moment, she sighed. “I came to apologize.”

Jensen’s brow furrowed, as he watched her blood red manicured nails tap the side of the pint, “For what?”

“For everything. For how things ended between us, for the affair.” To his astonishment, tears pricked those cold eyes. “It was my fault, all of it. I know it’s a lot to ask, but I was hoping you could forgive me.”

He certainly wasn’t expecting that. Danneel wasn’t known for her humility. He used to see it as confidence and strength. Now it seemed arrogant.

“Seriously?”

“I am so sorry, babe. It was the biggest mistake of my life and…” she reached across the table and grasped his hand. “I regret it. Every day. If I could go back, I’d do so many things differently. I’m sorry.”

“Me too.”

It was then that he saw the seams in her veneer. Danneel was an actress or had been at one time and after nearly a decade married to the woman, he knew her tells.

“I miss you. I’d like to become friends again.” She cocked her head and gave him a sultry look he knew well.

“You want to get back together.” Jensen breathed.

“It wasn’t all bad, was it? We can try again, get it right this time.”

Her foot gently nudging at his leg under the table, “We were good together, we could be again.”

He barked out a laugh. “You have got to be kidding me!”

Danneel never did react very gracefully to not getting her way. Her confidence slipped from her features, and she sneered.

“You arrogant son of a bitch! You’re turning me down? You? You’re an over-the-hill pretty boy who fell ass backwards into a leading role! You’ve got nothing without that show and as soon as it ends so will your so-called career.”

Suddenly, Jensen was thrown back into the exact same feelings he’d had when he walked in on her cheating on him. Back to every belittling conversation they’d had. Back to every snide remark she’d made in front of his friends and family. She cut him down in a million ways and he felt so low about himself that he never recognized it for what it was. Abuse, no matter how you sliced it.

You deserve to be loved. Completely and totally. Every day.

“I don’t deserve you.”

“You got that right,” she spat.

For the first time since that awful gala, he felt you beside him. He was a stronger person and a better man for the time he spent with you. That relationship with you; no matter how brief, no matter how it ended, made him better. And he didn’t have to lose that just because he lost you.

“I deserve better.” He looked his ex-wife squarely in the eye for what he was sure would be the last time. “You cheated on me. You used me for my money and my connections. You never loved me, half the time you didn’t even fake it. And that’s on me for sticking around when I knew it wasn’t right. But I’ll be damned if I’m ever going back to that life again.”

Danneel was practically sputtering when Jensen got to his feet and pulled out a hundred-dollar bill from his wallet. “Drinks on me.”

He turned on his heel and walked away from her for the second time in his life. And this time, he knew it would stick.

It took you six more weeks to complete your internship at Vancouver General. After a final round of tests, McMillian put you back into your regular rotation as a doctor in the ER. Tony wanted to ease you into it, but as they were short staffed you were back up to your normal workload in short order.

You easily fell back into the rhythm of hospital life. The fast pace and variety of challenges in the ER kept you on your toes. Being a doctor again gave you a purpose. You helped people in measurable ways, and it felt good. Your days off were mostly spent with Maddy and the kids. Occasionally, you met up with Kimmy for coffee but aside from that you had no contact with anyone from your time with Jensen.

It was as distant as a dream, making you wonder at times if it had been real at all. It was in your dreams that you saw him. The nightmares with the little girls were not as frequent, probably because you made a point to exhaust yourself every day. But you did see Jensen. Green eyes crinkling as he smiled just for you. His hands wandering as your body arched to his touch. You dreamt of the cabin, of hot tubs and cowboy boots, Netflix marathons, and singing cheesy county songs. You hated going to sleep because waking up and finding yourself alone was a new kind of torture.

Whoever said it was better to have loved and lost had never lost the love of Jensen Ackles.

There were times when you wished you could just lose your memory all over again, at least then you wouldn’t have to live with knowing how good things could be. You could live in oblivion and maybe then you could get a little peace.

“Hey, Gabby!”

Your head shot up from your phone as the elevator doors opened, you still weren’t used to hearing people address you by that name. “Oh, hey Val. How’s the pathology lab treating you?”

“Brutal. I’ve got a stack of paperwork waiting for me after lunch plus that new guy in cardiology is on my ass for a blood panel he ordered less than an hour ago.”

“You’ll rise to the challenge.”

“Always do,” she smiled and hit the button for the cafeteria. “You know, I’ve got tickets to that Supernatural convention next weekend. My roommate can’t go, and I know how much you love that show.”

You kept your features schooled; this wasn’t the first time Val had tried to pump you for information on Jensen. After the TMZ article leaked, she was the first in line to try and get the real story from you. Most of your collogues were professional enough to not press you, especially at work, but Val was persistent. You never gave her an inch.

“I’ve got overnight shifts that weekend, but I’m sure you’ll find someone to take you up on your offer. It’s a popular show.”

“True. The convention sold out super quick this time… probably because people are wanting to hear Jensen talk about his wife.”

You frowned and couldn’t help from asking, “His wife?”

“Oh God… didn’t you hear? They got back together! The whole fandom is up in arms about it. She’s always been a little stand offish and was rude to fans back in the early days.” Val explained in that airy, gossipy way she had about her. “I doubt he’ll say anything about it, but maybe! You know, if he has a few drinks in him.”

The elevator doors opened, and Val stepped out, not waiting for your response. You stopped off at the locker room to change into your scrubs. Once you were alone, you opened your phone and against your better judgement, you found the story.

Jensen and Danneel Ackles spotted at local bar. Despite finalizing their divorce last year, the longtime love birds were seen getting cozy during the Supernatural star’s last trip home. Insiders say they are on track to recapture the romance as soon as the CW series wraps.

You stared at the picture of them, obviously taken from another table and not posed. They were leaning close, talking. It could have been a normal conversation, you supposed. It didn’t necessarily have to be romantic. You knew firsthand that the press didn’t operate with integrity. But given what Jensen told you about that marriage and how it ended, you couldn’t fathom why he would give her the time of day at all!

Your first instinct wasn’t jealousy, it was worry. God! Was he hurting so bad that he went back to her? Back to the woman who broke his heart and eroded his self-esteem? Your mind went through the rolodex of people you could ask about it. In the end, you came up blank. There was no way it wouldn’t get back to Jensen. He was so angry with you that it would likely push him even further into destructive behavior. You just had to hope that Jared and other good people around him would help keep him balanced.

It hurt to see him. Even a slightly blurry cell phone shot of the back of his head. You missed him terribly. Most days, you were good at leaving your personal life at the door. That was one of the blessings of your job; you could let it consume you completely and it just made you better at it. But today, it just stayed with you.

Unfortunately, your shift wasn’t a busy one. Not that you wanted people to be hurt, but what you wouldn’t give for a kid with a broken arm right about now!

“Doctor Baines,” one of the nurses came up and handed you a clipboard. “Exam room two, male aged fifty, chest pains.”

Your eyes darted over the papers as you made your way across the ER. All typical baseline information, weight, age, height and the name. You stopped in your tracks. Son of a bitch!

“And the hits just keep coming.”

Clif reclined on the exam bed. Despite already being stripped out of his street clothes and dressed in a flimsy hospital gown, he was planning his escape. “This is a damn waste of time.”

Jared clamped a hand down over Clif’s shoulder and forced him to stay put, “We are not going anywhere until the doctor takes a look at you.”

“I’m telling you, I’m fine,” Clif grunted as he shifted uncomfortably.

“Keeling over in the middle of the day is not fine. And chest pains are on the short list of things you don’t ignore.”

“Jared Padalecki, ever the voice of reason.”

The two men looked at you in complete surprise as you entered. Every inch the professional; starched white lab coat over navy blue scrubs, hair pulled back in a ponytail and your id clipped to your lapel.

“You’ve got to be kidding,” Clif muttered while Jared rose from the cramped chair next to the bed.

“Y/N,” he pulled you into a quick hug.

“Good to see you too.” You gave a tight smile to your patient who glared in return. “So, what brings you in today, Mr. Kosterman.”

“No way in hell I am talking to you,” Clif grunted while a grimace of pain crossed his face. “Get my pants, Jarpad, we’re out of here!”

“Severe chest pain, shortness of breath, elevated blood pressure, sweating.” You tossed the clipboard on the foot of the bed. “There’s not a chance I’m going to let you walk out of here exhibiting symptoms like that. I know you hate me, Clif. And you don’t trust me, which is why I’ve called Doctor Evans for a consult.”

Clif frowned up at you, “Who the hell is Evans?”

“Chief Cardiologist.”

“Come on, man. Let Y/N check you over,” Jared begged.

Clif rolled his eyes but settled back with a grunt. “Have it your way, ya moose.”

It was amazing how agreeable people could be when they were scared and in pain. No matter your personal feelings towards him, you genuinely wanted him to be well. Tony McMillan had been right when he said healing was your calling. You couldn’t imagine denying help you knew you could provide.

Clif allowed you to conduct your examination and by the time Evans arrived, you had your diagnosis.

“Indigestion?! Are you kidding me?” Cliff bellowed at the two of you.

“The symptoms you experienced mimic those of a cardiac episode, but I have to agree with Doctor Baines’ assessment.” Evans was a mild-mannered man with the patience of a saint.

“Now, I would like to schedule you for a stress test just to rule out any potential for future attacks and start you on gastrointestinal friendly diet as soon as possible.”

The look of disgust on Clif’s face was comical. Low sodium, low fat, minimal red meat… a fate worse than death. You hid your smile as you headed for the door, “I’ll just go get your discharge papers started.”

“Hey, Nightingale.”

You turned your head and caught his grateful nod. For the first time, there wasn’t hostility in Clif’s eyes.

“Thanks.”

“Any time. Hard ass.”

Jared followed you out into the hallway, “Y/N, wait.”

You knew you weren’t off the hook that easily. “Just let me get that paperwork and you can take Clif home.”

Jared’s warm, hazel gaze met yours and he suddenly didn’t know what to say. A couple of months ago, he would have said he knew you well. That you were friends. Now, nothing felt certain.

He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans, “How have you been?”

“I’m well,” was your tight reply. “You? Gen and the kids?”

“Good! They’re good.”

You looked up at him and took pity. “Jared, why don’t you ask me what you really want to know?”

He hesitated for a second then blurted it out. “Do you still love him?”

The question rang out like a shot! The bluntness of it took your breath away. So much that you couldn’t even form the words. You crossed your arms over your middle and looked away.

“He still loves you, he never stopped.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, “Jared…”

“I know he screwed up and I know things are a mess. He’s a mess! He’s an absolute wreck without you.” Jared appealed to you in earnest.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, unsure what else was left to say.

“Just… give him a call, talk to him.”

“He knows where I am, Jared. If he wanted to contact me, he could have done so at any time.” You couldn’t help the hint of temper that reared up. “I’m not in hiding. Nor am I changing my name and fleeing the country.”

It was Jared’s turn to glance away, “Yeah, I heard about that.”

“Why would you want to bring someone like me back into your best friend’s life? I’m a con artist, remember? I sold my story to the press for a quick buck and five minutes of fame.”

“No, you didn’t. You would never do that.”

“I wish Jensen had the same faith in me that you do.”

“He does! And as for the rest of it, there is a reasonable explanation. We just haven’t found it.”

You sighed heavily, “If he did, then he would be here talking to me, not you.”

“He was a fucking idiot to let you walk away that night, and he’s still an idiot.” Jared paused, “You never answered my question… Do you still love him?”

“Gabby?”

Your wide eyes went to the man coming up behind Jared. “Dave, hi. This is my friend, Jared.”

Jared’s expression cooled immediately as he took measure of the man shaking his hand. Good looking with a tall, wiry build. He was sporting a lab coat like yours and a pair of neon Nikes. Dave smiled and Jared tightened his grip just enough to earn a satisfying wince from the man.

“Wow! That’s some handshake buddy! Gabs, I just wanted to make sure we were still on for the Green Room tonight.”

You felt your face heat up, “Yes, of course. I’ll see you there.”

Dave grinned a mouthful of perfect veneers as he turned to leave. “Sounds good, babe.”

“You’re seeing someone?”

You hated yourself for squirming at the question. “Not exactly. He’s been asking me for a while and I… wait! Why am I explaining this to you? I’m a normal, single adult engaging in a normal adult social life. Just like Jensen is.”

“If you’re talking about Danneel, that wasn’t what it looked like.”

“Oh Jared, it doesn’t matter! What we had is gone now. And I can’t spend the rest of my life mourning it. At some point I’ve got to move on and so does he.”

Stubborn to the last, Jared pressed you again, “You didn’t answer…”

“Of course, I love him. How could I not?” Your voice cracked as you headed towards the nurse’s station, “I’ll get your paperwork.”

Jensen turned his coat collar up against the wind as he strode towards the Green Room Martini Lounge. In truth, it didn’t take much for Jared to convince him to seek you out. He’d pulled his phone out several times a day ever since he got back to Vancouver, his thumb hovering over your name. In the end, he just tortured himself by rereading your past texts and skimming through pictures.

He knew he fucked up and he had no idea how to fix it. He wasn’t even sure if you would want him to, and after the way he treated you, the last thing he wanted was to hurt you further. He wanted you to be happy, even if that meant you weren’t with him. His over-protective nature doubled down on his guilt and in the end, he knew you deserved better than him.

But when Jared told him that you still loved him, despite everything, he began to hope. Then he mentioned your upcoming date and that settled it. Jensen showered, shaved and booked it to the upscale club. It was close to your hospital, that was probably why the bastard picked it. If he cared to know you at all, he’d never take you there. You hated clubs, they were too loud and the crowded. You much preferred intimate conversations in private booths.

If this asshole booked a fucking booth, I’m going to lose it!

Jensen paid the cover fee and entered. It was dark and moody, with slim, green lights outlining the bar and tables. Hence the name, The Green Room. Heavy base music pumped out of the speakers and drowned out the sea of voices. It was absolutely packed, typical for a Friday night. He scanned the room and when he caught a glimpse of your hair shining in the dim light, his heart tripped.

You looked the same. Gorgeous. Your black sweater dress was off the shoulder and framed your delicate collarbones. You’d kept the blonde, it cascaded over your bare shoulders in waves and shone like a beacon. It was still too cold for bare legs, so where the short hem of your dress stopped, matching leggings took over and disappeared into boots.

Do you like my boots?

Jensen’s mind flashed briefly on you from the trip to the cabin. His determination cemented then. He wasn’t sure what he was going to say to you, but he wasn’t leaving without you. That was just a fact.

His approach slowed as he saw a man come to your side. You turned your attention to him, and Jensen guessed that was your date.

Fucking Doctor Sexy… Dave. Whatever the fuck his name is. Slick son of a bitch!

You weren’t saying much but the look on your face could be called polite. And slightly pained. Dave’s hand was on yours, then suddenly disappeared lower while his other arm wrapped around you. Dave leaned close to your ear, and you squirmed, recoiling slightly from his touch. Jensen couldn’t hear what you said, but he saw it plain as day. No.

Dave was an absolute disaster. He had six shots before you even arrived to meet him, and he was all hands. Seriously! The man was like an octopus, as soon as you got rid of one hand there was another one right behind it! When he excused himself to the men’s room, you called for an Uber, determined to make your excuses as soon as he got back.

“Come on babe, don’t go! We’re just getting started…”

“Dave, I’m just not up to it.”

His hand found your hip and squeezed as he pinned you up against the bar. “Don’t be like that, let’s have some fun!”

“Stop it,” you commanded, trying to get him to release you. “Let me go.”

Dave coiled his arm around you and held you so tightly it pinched. “You are not going anywhere until we get to know each other properly.”

You felt panic skate up your spine. It was a busy night and no one else was really paying attention, certainly not enough to notice that you were having a problem. And despite being completely wasted, Dave was strong and persistent. You were going to have to do something drastic if you wanted to convince him you were serious.

“Let go!” You stomped his foot hard, hoping it would prompt him to release you. Instead, he grabbed your wrist and twisted it painfully back.

“You bitch!” He spat and for a split second you were worried he was actually going to hit you. How the hell did this night go so sideways?

“Hey!”

Suddenly, you were free and stumbled backwards while Dave was on the ground clutching his jaw. Stunned, your wide eyes looked straight into those familiar, bottle green ones. You knew that you were gaping at him like an idiot but was literally the last person you expected to see there. One minute you were at risk for a black eye on a first date the next you were completely safe. And you knew you would be, you always were with him.

Jensen worriedly searched your face, “Are you alright?”

“Fuck! You broke my fucking jaw!”

You came out of your shock all at once. Now keenly aware that the three of you had caused such a disruption that everyone in the club was watching, including the bouncers. There was no time to wonder about the implications of Jensen’s presence. Without a second thought, you grabbed your coat and Jensen’s hand. You pushed your way through the people and out the door. Leaving your date bellowing on the floor.

The Uber you had the foresight to order was waiting at the curb. Heedless of the chaos swirling around you, you climbed in the backseat with Jensen and left the club and crowd behind.

You weren’t saying anything, and Jensen wasn’t sure what to make of it. You didn’t seem angry or upset. You didn’t seem happy either. In fact, you weren’t even looking at him. You stared out the window, with your leather coat folded on your lap. When the car finally pulled up in front of your building, you said a quiet thank you to the driver and got out.

Jensen followed, hoping that you would at least give him five minutes to talk to you before you kicked his ass to the curb.

You silently unlocked the door and flipped on the lights. Jensen paused in the foyer; it was almost unrecognizable from the last time he had seen it. You painted the walls a deep green gray that both warmed and calmed. You had artwork, new furniture, a television, and entertainment center. Teak blinds offered privacy. It even smelled good, like vanilla and fresh linens. You’d made it a home and while he was pleased to know you weren’t living in a shoebox, he was worried by it. Why would you want to come home with him if you’d made a home here?

“Why don’t you have a seat and I’ll take a look at your hand.”

Jensen nodded as you disappeared into the bathroom. He sat on the sofa and found it comfortable. New as well. The whole apartment was inviting now, it didn’t feel sad or temporary. This was a place you’d want to stay.

When you came back, you’d removed your boots and had a first aid kit in your hands. You sat next to him on the couch and took his hand, examining the knuckles. Your touch was warm and reminiscent of better days spent together.

“Go ahead and wiggle your fingers for me.”

You watched the movements and tried not to be distracted by the freckles you saw scattered across his hand. Who knew you could miss something as tiny as freckles?

“Does that hurt?”

You hadn’t made eye contact with him until that moment and when you did, he was as struck as he was the first time. There was so much to say and yet no words seemed adequate.

“No.”

Satisfied, you took out alcohol swabs to clean the minor cuts and dabbed antibiotic ointment over them. You blew softly across his skin to dry it.

“Why were you at the club tonight?”

“For you.”

You placed a tiny bandage over the cut, again keeping your eyes on your work, “Why?”

“Jared, he ah… said he ran into at the hospital.”

“And he told you about my plans for the evening.” You looked up again, this time your eyes flashed with blue fire, hinting at temper bubbling under the surface. “You can keep your jealousy; I’ve had my fill of male posturing.”

“I wasn’t jealous!”

“I’ve been working at the same hospital and living in the same apartment for months. You made no move to contact me until I had a date and then you swoop in out of nowhere and punch him in the face! If that’s not jealousy, then what the hell is it?!”

“That’s me, dropping a douchebag who asked for it!”

“That’s me having the same poor judgement in men,” you grabbed the first aid kit and headed to the kitchen. “I hope your ego is satisfied because I don’t have any other dates scheduled.”

Jensen was hot on your heels, “Well next time try going out with a guy who knows the meaning of the word no!”

“Should I expect this kind of interference every time I attempt to have a personal life or only when you feel you have something to prove?”

“You’d rather I let that asshole assault you? You told him to stop, and he didn’t, I’m not going to apologize for stepping in. So, sweetheart if you wanna be pissed, then be pissed… cause I’d do it all again. In a heartbeat.”

He crossed his arms over his chest and frowned fiercely. There was a time when that display of protectiveness would have made your heart swell. Tonight, it only served as a reminder of what had been lost.

You sighed as the fight drained out of you. You pulled down two glasses from the cupboard and filled each of them halfway with merlot.

“Is this what I can expect for the rest of my life? You show up once every few months to remind me of mistakes I didn’t know I was making and scare off any hope for normalcy?”

He took the glass you handed him. The pain he saw reflected in your eyes was just as raw as his own. He knew he was the cause and he hated himself for it.

“I’m sorry.”

“Why are you here, Jensen?”

“I wasn’t going to come,” he confessed. “Not cause I didn’t want to, because God knows I’ve picked up my phone every damn day just to hear your voice. But I’m the one who destroyed everything. I hurt you so damn bad and I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness. But I have some things to tell you so if you aren’t ready to throw me out just yet, will you give me a minute?”

You nodded mutely and sat down at the small café table under the kitchen window. Your heart had been so heavy for so long that the weight of it seemed unbearable. Now with him here, you felt both hopeful and terrified. You sipped your wine and waited.

“You know when Clif showed me those files there was a part of me that had been expecting it. Because being with you was just too good to be true, there was no way it could last. I’ve never been that happy before, I didn’t know what to do with it. It was easier to believe that it had all been a lie.”

He huffed out a breath, “I ran into Danneel when I was home.”

“I know,” you softy replied, and his eyes widened. “There was an article.”

“Where would we be without those articles?” He wondered aloud, taking a large swallow of wine. “She found me licking my wounds in a dive bar, suggested we give it another go. Get it right this time.”

“Did you consider it?”

“Not for a second. I had this voice in my head telling me I deserved better and for the first time I believed it. That’s why I’m here, Y/N. I couldn’t let you go on with the rest of your life not knowing the difference you made in mine.”

“Being married to her, I wasn’t even sure real love existed, certainly not for me. But you came along and proved her wrong, proved me wrong. I’m not going to settle for anything less, never again. You saved me, Y/N. Even if you never forgive me, even if you don’t love me any more… I just had to thank you.

Tears gathered in your eyes and you swallowed, not sure if you could trust your own voice. To your surprise, Jensen knelt in front of you and took your hands in his.

“I am so sorry I hurt you. There is nothing I can say that will ever make it right. I just want you to know that I love you. I’m never gonna stop loving you. I’ll do anything to make you happy and if that means I’m not a part of your life, then so be it. I’ll sleep well at night knowing that I’m giving you what you want.”

He was saying everything you wanted to hear, yet your heart was breaking. This beautiful man was at your feet, pledging his undying love. What more could you ask for? What more could anyone want in life?

I must be out of my mind.

Jensen watched as you stood and walked a few paces, turning your back to him. He’d lost you; it was already too late. God, he was never going to forgive himself!

“What about Miranda Tyler? Or Stephanie Jacobs?” You stomach twisted just saying those names aloud. “Rachael Scott… I still don’t have any answers for you.”

He got to his feet and shrugged helplessly, “I don’t care.”

“I do! It blew my world apart and there’s probably more. I don’t want to live in fear that another name is going to crop up and send you packing!”

He stood there, tall and true as always. Awaiting your command.

“What do you want, Y/N?”

You wanted everything to go back to how it had been before. You wanted to be oblivious to the truth, what little you had of it. You wanted to run away with him to your cabin and stay there forever, safe from the people trying to tear the two of your apart. You wanted something that didn’t exist anymore.

Your blue gaze looked away and he had his answer. He reached out and swiped the tears from your cheeks with his thumb, just as he had so many times before.

“Don’t cry, sweetheart. It’ll be alright.” He brushed a soft kiss over your forehead, “Goodbye.”

Jensen didn’t know where he found the strength to walk away from you, but love does crazy things to a man. He was prepared to gut himself to give you a peace that he would never know.

Just as he twisted the front doorknob and pulled, you slammed your hand against it.

“Stay.”

He stared at you; his heart laid bare, afraid to breathe. Praying to God he got a second chance he knew he didn’t deserve.

“Please stay. I want you to stay.”

You blinked back the tears and framed his face in your hands. “You. I want you. I want you…”

His mouth crashed down on yours and silenced any further confessions. You gasped as he groaned, hurried hands striping each other bare. Desperate longing. Needy passion, broken pieces, and jagged edges. Everything melded together and in the hours that followed the two of you found each other again. Your bodies conveying the truth where your words had failed.

You each gave what the other wanted, tomorrow would come the problem of how to keep it.

[lostgreekgod]

delusion

a/n: hello aaaaa i had @theaudacitytowrite give me a prompt for a loki x reader fic solely because I do not find entertainment elsewhere! anyways

word count: 2776 (shit got longer, but what can I say I'm very feely when it comes to angst)

warnings: angst. angst angst angst. some crying. there was this one mention of blood, tendons & stuff ? but that's about it have fun crying

pairing: loki x f!reader

summary: you and Loki have been together for quite some time now. what happens when his insecure self realizes that you love him? and that he does too?

another a/n: I feel like this could use a part 2 i might come up with it next week because I've got a 7 day break from school yayy lmk if you'd like that nexie

4 years. It had been 4 years, 3 months, and 27 days since y/n had shed a tear. But on this fine autumn morning, as the yellow and brown leaves rustled in the gentle winds, as the smell of coffee, pumpkin, and spice wafted in the air, she let a tear fall- courtesy of her lover. No, scratch that. Her ex-lover.

\\ 3 hours earlier \\

Humming a tuneless song, an exhausted y/n walked back to her room in the Avenger’s tower. A whole day of training wouldn’t be smart when she had a crucial mission to lead just the next day, but she wanted the mission to pan out exactly right. This wasn’t her first mission, but the stats were so much more critical compared to the missions she had been sent on before. A new rival organization was springing up in SHIELD’s radar, and they seemed as high as ever in spirit, regardless of how the Avengers had managed to crush HYDRA not so long ago. Apparently, according to a message they had received a few moments before, the up-and-coming organization had 4 junior agents in captivity, and in exchange for those agents, they wanted intel. Fury’s plan was to provide a hard drive with incorrect information with an embedded virus, and have the agents rescued before the rival agents decrypted the file and realized SHIELD’s play. Two birds with one stone, as he had phrased. y/n was going to go in with Natasha and Loki. Nat, because she was as light as a cat on her feet, and Loki because he had his seidr for illusions, teleportation, et cetera. This wasn’t going to be her first mission with her 4-month boyfriend either, but she was excited to be fighting alongside him, nevertheless. As she washed up in the shower, she heard her room door open and close with a click. Finally. She thought with a smile. She could go to sleep in her beloved’s arms for the few hours she had left for rest and relaxation before they set out. Putting on her nightgown, she left the bath. She saw how Loki was cocooned on her bed, arms reaching out towards her, a little smile on his face. Unlike her, the god didn’t train much- but he still looked tired.

“Hello, my little lioness. Whom did you beat up today? You do realize it is wiser to rest before a mission.” He said in a loud, lazy whisper. All y/n could do was smile sweetly at him and snuggle under the covers. He knew how the lack of training made her insecure about her ability to be stealthy. Instead of letting Loki’s arms wrap around her like most of the other nights, she spooned his chest instead. Loki’s eyes widened at the sudden gesture, his body tensing up at the sudden disposal of love. He had only given love; he had never been on the receiving side of it. Wait, love? He didn’t love y/n. He didn’t. That swell he felt in his chest every time he saw her was simply the result of the great appreciation and respect he had for her. Nothing more. He couldn’t love her. After all, everyone he had ever loved ended up being taken away from him.

Chuckling lightly, he hoped y/n wouldn’t catch onto his nervousness. “What are you doing my dear?”

Inhaling his scent, y/n mumbled, her eyes still closed. “Sleeping. Go to sleep my love. We have to be up in less than 3 hours.”

My love? Yes, y/n had called him that multiple times, but he had never thought much of it. Why was he suddenly so wary of it? Did y/n truly love him? No, maybe she wasn’t thinking. She was already worn out and sleepy, maybe she blurted it out accidentally. No one could love him. No one.

y/n sensed that he still hadn’t relaxed. Cracking her eyes slightly open, she asked lightly, “Is everything okay, love?” Loki’s brows furrowed at her question. There it was again. Love. Loving him was impossible. To love him would be delusional. A move of delusional stupidity. Blatant ignorance.

Loki shifted away from her and sat up, ignoring the throbbing in his chest when he heard her whine in response. He met her eyes only to be asked another question. “Love, what’s the matter?”

His heart clenched against his chest, suddenly the room was too hot. He had to understand what was going on. He had to figure this out before it was too late.

“Love?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

y/n scanned his face, trying to understand the reason for his sudden withdrawal. She simply hummed in response.

Loki raised his eyebrows, indicating her to reiterate her response.

“Yes, what is the matter?”

“You referred to me as ‘love’.” He repeated, his tongue spewing out the last word like it was coated in dirt and grime.

“Yes, I suppose I did. Is something bothering you?” she asked again, placing her hand on his thigh as a gesture of concern.

How was he expected to ask her if she actually, truly loved him, without causing a kerfuffle? Without making it seem awkward, without losing her? What if she said she didn’t love him? What then? Would that make him feel better? Would that make him happy? A chill ran down his spine when he realized his answer. No. he wouldn’t be happy. In fact, he’d be terribly upset. He wanted y/n to love him. Shaking his head, he tried to heed logic over his emotion. He had to stop himself before he caused something he couldn’t fix. Before y/n realized the monster he truly was. He had to protect his beloved y/n, that would be the least he owed to her, after all that he had led her into.

He neutralized his expression, calming his breathing. This was for the best. He was the God of Lies, he did not deserve love after all that he had done.

“As a matter of fact, y/n, something is bothering me.”

y/n nodded, encouraging him to explain his predicament. “You can talk to me, love.”

Loki inhaled quickly, the use of the blasted term knocking him out of character for a second before he was able to regain his composure. He would ask the question directly. Right to the point, like he was doing business. That was the only way he could maintain his pretense without breaking down too soon. y/n might never forgive him after tonight, but to have her angry at him was so much better than losing her, on his account.

“Do you love me?”

y/n gasped lightly at the sudden question, her eyes widening at how Loki asked her about something so deep with no emotion in his voice. She sensed his sudden hostility, this coldness he was presenting her with. Sitting upright, she looked into his eyes. Nothing. She could read nothing from his expression. All she could pick up was this eerie sadness radiating off of him.

She decided to try reasoning with him. This sudden hostility meant something was bothering him at a much more personal level, and such issues mustn’t be dealt with before an important mission. She would know.

“We don’t have to do this today, Loki. We have to be up early tomorrow, and I doubt- “

“Answer the question, y/n.” Loki interrupted, his voice hardened like steel.

“Loki, we really mustn’t-“ she tried again.

“Answer, y/n.” he pressed.

y/n could only look at him and wonder what the cause was for the unexpected change in his demeanor. How was she supposed to tell him? How was she supposed to give the answer to the one question that could either make or break everything that they had together? How was she supposed to tell him that her love for him was far more than life? That he was her life? It didn’t matter how less time they had spent with each other; she knew him a lot longer before they had decided to begin their courtship, and she had fallen in love with him even before they had gotten romantically involved. She only fell harder for him after she saw how he truly was. How broken and vulnerable, how he yearned for a place in someone’s heart, how he wished someone could love him without any foretold conditions. How he wished to be free. Loki’s eyes widened as realization dawned upon him. y/n’s lack of response answered his question. She did love him. But he had to hear it from her. That was the only way he could finish this for good. For his y/n.

“I’m waiting.” He prompted, slightly flinching at the coldness in his voice.

y/n’s eyes flicked over to his, her skin eliciting goosebumps from the steely nature of his voice. He had never been like this to her. The last time she had seen him like this was when he was under Thanos’ control. Breathing deeply, she reached out and held his hands, shutting her eyes for a moment.

“Yes. I do. I love you,” she whispered, blood pounding against her ears. Her heart convulsed in her chest when Loki didn’t reply. She cracked her eyes open, her fingers growing cold at Loki’s unchanged demeanor.

Loki’s chest heaved at her response. ‘I love you,’ she had whispered, her eyes shut at the vulnerability of their situation. He already knew what she was going to say, but to hear it from her own mouth, her voice tiny as ever in fear that he wouldn’t return her feelings had him gasp slightly. His blood ran cold, his mind freezing at another realization. He loved her too. Of course he did. How could he have been so blind? He loved her so much, he hadn’t even noticed. Finish it! Finish it right now! Before you make things worse! His mind screamed at him. He knew what he had to do. Swallowing, he tried to memorize the feel of her hands against his. This was all he was ever going to have. A memory. A memory of his little lioness, a memory of what he would have had if he was someone different. Someone nicer, better. Someone not him. He pulled away from her, and met her eyes, his expression stoic and emotionless. Like the monster he was.

“Pity.” He whispered, his heartbreaking at how y/n’s eyes widened. He thought he experienced heartbreak when he lost his mother. As destructive as that moment was, many years ago, he believed he wouldn’t feel anything over this. After all, you can’t break something that’s already broken. But boy, was he wrong. This was heartbreak. And apparently, it's even worse when you go through it a second time. His veins felt like ice, his head heavier than ever. He could feel his throat closing up, all he wanted was to rip his heart out of his chest. He didn’t deserve her. Hell, he didn’t deserve to live after all that he had done.

“What?” came y/n’s voice, a little barely over a whisper. He couldn’t help but notice how her voice was heavy, laced with hurt.

“It’s a pity you think you love me.” He reiterated, his words chapping away at his already cracked heart.

y/n couldn’t process the event unfolding in front of her. Loki didn’t love her. No, worse. Loki thought it was stupid that she loved him. If she had any concern for her dignity, she would ask him to leave. But she loved him far too much. She decided to try one last time. Straddling him, she reached over and cupped his face in his hands, pressing her lips against his ice-cold ones. He was shocked for a moment, and before he realized, he was kissing her back. I love you, he wanted to say. I love you too. But all could do was try and engrave in his mind the feeling of her soft lips on his, the warmth of her hands against his cheeks. This was the end. He had to use all his willpower not to pull her in his arms and deepen the kiss, and whisper sweet nothings in her ear.

Breaking away, y/n whispered, “it may be stupid that I do. Pathetic, even. -It isn’t pathetic. I love it.- Honestly, not one day goes by where I don’t face criticism about how I must be an ignorant fool to love someone like you. But what these people don’t understand, is that they are the ones that are ignorant. They do not see you as I do, and although I wish every day that they would, I doubt it will ever happen. You are, the best thing that has ever happened to me. That ever will happen to me,” she says, taking his hand and placing it over her heart. “Can’t you feel this? This is what I feel every time I think of you- this is how I feel every time you merely breathe in my direction. -You are the reason I still exist, my dear. You keep me tethered to the outside world.- My love for you has been in existence for far longer than our courtship. I wish I could do more than just tell you how much I love you, if I could, I would give you anything, everything you’ve ever wanted; my heart was yours the moment I set eyes on you 2 years ago. So take it, trample over it- it was yours to do anything with anyway. -So was mine. I am yours, just as you claim to be mine.- I love you, Loki Friggason, and I refuse to stop. -I love you too, my darling y/n. but I must do this. For you. Forgive me.-”

All Loki could do was hold in all those thoughts he desperately wanted to put in words. He could feel his eyes well up, his chest convulsing for the umpteenth time. Inhaling her scent, he hoped he would remember the sweet smell of chocolate and wine she always smelled of.

With great restraint, he pushed her off of him, his heart churning at y/n’s gasp. Her heart cracked at his dismissal. He couldn’t look at her while he shattered her heart, while he ripped it right off the pedestal. This was the end.

“You say all this, but you mean nothing by it, I assure you. I have encountered numerous midgardians professing their love for me, but I can tell when someone lies y/n. And it is very clear to me how you are simply overwhelmed. You do not love me. You are simply but a blatant, ignorant fool.” Could his heart shatter any further? Apparently, yes. It clawed at his chest, pain searing in his bones. He would feel all of it. He would embrace it.

He forced his lips to morph into a twisted, sickening smile. Agony. That is what he felt. Fresh burning agony, like fire in his tendons.

“What we have is all but a product of boredom. I was simply bored, silly mortal.” He looked up at her when she gasped, her hand on her heart. It was almost as if he could hear it shatter. All he wanted to do was hold her and weep. Tell her how sorry he was. Tell her how he wished he was the person she truly deserved. Instead, he was going to crawl into a ball and wish for death.

He got up to leave. Once and for all. Shutting his eyes for a moment, he willed his tears to sink back to wherever they came from. He didn’t deserve to cry.

“Did I ever matter to you?” he heard her whisper. Deciding not to answer, he stepped towards the door before she called to him. “Did I, Loki?” she asked again, her voice steadier. There was the woman he had hopelessly fallen in love with. A lioness, she certainly was.

He turned around to look at her, the same lifeless smile dancing across his lips. If he was someone else, he would have been taken aback at y/n’s stoic expression. She would rise again. She would continue to live her life, and no one was going to stop her. Especially him. That was the lioness he knew of. The only evidence of her hurt was the tiny teardrops prickling in her eyes, which he could see only because of the morning sun rays peeking in through the gaps in the curtains. She never cried.

“No,” he breathed, swiftly exiting through the door before she could see the tears that had traitorously fallen onto his cheeks.

part 2 here!

[rainydaydream-gal18]

(TFATWS) Bucky x Reader: Protective- Part 1

 (Author’s Note: I watched TFATWS and loved it.  So here we are).

 The tension had finally fizzled out an hour or so into the trip- at least for a little while.

   Your consulting criminal, Zemo, made himself comfortable as soon as he set foot on the jet.  He was leaning back in his seat across from you, looking very pleased as he read a book and took an occasional sip from his champagne glass.  His contented demeanor had visibly affected both of your friends, Sam and Bucky, causing their irritation with him to skyrocket earlier.  But after some of the confrontations concerning Bucky’s inherited notebook from Steve, Sam’s music, and Zemo’s observations of you, things had finally calmed down.

   He was a crafty one.  He knew how to push buttons, knew exactly what to say to trigger each individual’s weak points.  Things had begun to escalate especially when Zemo turned his attention to you.  His piercing gaze had you frozen in place as he made inquiries.  While he didn’t ask anything outwardly uncomfortable, the probing questions about your life were starting to make you uneasy.

   The other two males didn’t take too kindly to Zemo’s attempts at conversation with you.  Bucky stared out the window with his jaw clenched.  At one point, Sam let out an exasperated sigh, causing the criminal to halt mid-sentence. He leaned over to raise his brow at you diagonally across the aisle of the jet.   “_________, is he bothering you?”

   You didn’t have to speak: the look on your face said it all, and Sam shifted in his seat again to look over at Zemo.  “Alright, that’s enough.”  His tone was firm and leaving no room to question.

   Directly across the aisle from you to your right, Bucky’s shoulders relaxed when Zemo followed Sam’s command.  The jet had fallen silent except for the muffled whirring sounds of its mechanics.

   You pretended to skim through a magazine that you’d found laying on a tray.  With one hour down and twelve more to go on the flight, you felt the need to unwind a bit.  Everything had happened so fast from the moment you agreed to go with your friends to Berlin to see Zemo.  After Thanos’ horrible plan came to an end, things heated up when John Walker went public as “the new Captain America.”  He’d even offered you a place working with him since you were part of Team Cap back in the day.  You declined, of course, and found yourself even more determined to help Sam and Bucky.

   You were happy for Steve.  You were.  It was still hard to have him gone.  For years, ever since the Avengers broke apart over the Sokovia Accords and Bucky’s framing, you’d followed Steve.  Even before then, when it was discovered that Hydra had been infiltrating SHIELD, you’d left the broken agency to join him as he continued his fight against threats to the world

   You hadn’t imagined that you and the others would be left to keep fighting without him.

   “You in the market for a new grill?”

   You were drawn from your deep thought to a set of dark blue eyes that looked from you to the magazine page that you hadn’t turned in at least ten minutes.  You chuckled and closed the magazine, playing along.  “Yes, I figured with all this extra time, I’d do a little shopping.”

   The corner of Bucky’s mouth twitched up in a brief show of amusement.  You rose from the seat to go to his side, kneeling down beside his chair.

   “Why does he even have this?”  You lowered your voice as you glanced at the eccentric baron, setting the magazine back down onto the tray.  “You’d think there would be more European fashion magazines or something.”

   Bucky’s eyes flickered to the man in question before leaning in to speak in an equally quiet tone.  “I have to admit.  We lucked out with him.  Not only does he have a lead, but he’s got private transportation so we can stay under the radar.”

   “I think we made the the right choice going to him,” you replied.

   “We can only hope,” he muttered.  “Seriously though, what were you thinking about when you zoned out?”

   “Oh.”  You averted your gaze, playing with the hem of your jacket.  You didn’t want to delve into your train of thought.  It was plain as day that Bucky and Sam were both dealing with Steve’s departure in their own ways, and you didn’t want to add to it or open up any healing wounds.  So, you settled on being vague.  “Just...everything.”

   He seemed to know what you meant anyway.  The silence that followed made guilt gnaw in your chest, but before you could say anything, Bucky spoke.

   “Hey,” he nudged you with his shoulder, making you meet his gaze again.  His eyes had softened significantly and forehead smoothed in absence of the lines caused by furrowed brows.  It was a nice change from the scowl he had since the mission started.  “Sorry we dragged you into this.”

   You dismissed the apology with a casual wave of your hand.  “You guys didn’t drag me into anything.  I was along for the ride from the beginning.”

   A comfortable silence fell between you then.  He returned to gazing out the window while you stood up and headed back to your seat, sinking into it and letting your head tip forward.  You figured that a cat nap was in order since you hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before.  All that business with an internationally-known criminal breaking out of prison had you on edge.  With nothing but the sounds of occasional page-turning from Zemo’s book and Sam tapping his foot lightly to the beat of music he listened to on his phone with earbuds, sweet sleep claimed you in no time.

   You were pulled from your dreamless slumber by voices, but your body wasn’t ready to respond just yet.  The first thing you noticed was that you were leaning against something on your right side, your face resting on a soft material that held the scent of leather and cologne. Bucky’s scent.  It must’ve been his jacket balled up to serve as a pillow.  In fact, it was his voice rumbling closest to you.

   “Stop looking at her like that.”

   “Apologies, James, but I don’t know what you mean.”  Zemo’s accented voice was quieter, but there was a sprinkle of amusement in his tone.

   “You’re doing it right now.”

   “Bucky, come on,” Sam interjected.  “We managed to make it a few hours without killing the guy.  Don’t let him get to you now.”

   Zemo’s tone took on a new intensity, as if he was gripped by fascination.  “You seem very protective of __________.  The way you move around her is intriguing, as if prepared to defend her at a moment’s notice.”

   “Don’t engage,” Sam warned in a low voice.

   By now, you were almost fully awake.  Despite the potentially awkward situation that Zemo was creating with the analysis of your friend, you figured it would be best to intervene.  You shifted, blinking your eyes open.

   “What’s going on?” you muttered, voice still a little rough from sleep.  “It better be good because I haven’t slept that well in a while.”  You lifted your head from Bucky’s jacket, eyes darting up to see him staring out the window again.  “Sorry,” you muttered, brushing a bit of drool from his jacket before handing it back to him.  He stole a glance in your direction again, not seeming to mind.

   “No big deal.  You needed the sleep.”

   Bucky didn’t say another word, so you turned to Sam for answers.  He shrugged with the shake of his head.  “Zemo’s being... well, Zemo.”

   You nodded in understanding, as if that simple phrase was all the explanation you needed.  Zemo caught your gaze, the corners of his lips turning up a smile.

   “As I mentioned before, we will have to go undercover to meet with Selby in Madripoor.  I was merely thinking of disguises for you and Sam.”

   He seemed like was telling the truth, but you didn’t doubt that he relished the added bonus of getting under Bucky’s skin in the process.  While Bucky had been protective of you and those who chose to put themselves on the line to prove his innocence when it came to the UN bombing, you hadn’t expected him to be quite that defensive in this situation.  As flattering as it was in some ways, it made you worry.  Zemo knew what buttons to push.  Would he eventually push a button to make things go his way?  To forward some plan of his?

   You got up to stretch and use the refresher.  You took your time since there were still several hours left in the flight.  Zemo had informed the group that upon landing, there would be  limited window to get into costume and go over your characters before heading to Selby’s club.

   - - - - - - -  

   “Only an American would assume that a fashion-forward black man looks like a pimp,” Zemo complained.  You stole a glance at your friend who gave his outfit another displeased look.  “You look exactly like the man you’re supposed to be playing.  The sophisticated, charming African rake named Conrad Mack, aka the Smiling Tiger.”  He handed his phone over so Sam could get a look at his character’s picture.

   “He even has a bad nickname.  He does look like me, though.”

   “And who am I supposed to be?” you asked, pulling the jacket over your form tighter.  You wore a dark blue dress that went to your knees.  The material was soft and had a subtle glimmer in the light, and the outfit was complete with a pair of black heels that clacked on the pavement with each step, a shiny silver bracelet, and the black jacket that you were glad to have in the chilly air.  The group was walking to the halfway point of the bridge to be picked up.

   “You will be my date,” Zemo replied casually.

   You gave him an incredulous look.  “Really?  I’m just the date?”

   He released a sigh before launching into explanation.  “You don’t exactly resemble any crime bosses.  Besides, it’s not uncommon for dates to come and go in this town.  No one will be asking who you are.  No one will expect what’s coming to them if we need to fight.  You may have the greatest advantage out of all of us.”

   As much as you hated to admit it, he had a point.

   “Just remember to remain at my side at all times,” Zemo continued.  “Make it look convincing that we are together.”

   You refused to meet his amused look.  “Yeah, yeah.  Whatever.”

   A black car idled just ahead, and Zemo once more reiterated how important it was to stay in character. He told the group about High Town and Low Town, though you were a little distracted by the city lights reflecting off the water.

   You squeezed into the backseat between Bucky and Sam.  The ride was tense with only the sound of your breaths in the small space.  Bucky stared straight ahead through the windshield even as motorcycles surrounded the car and escorted it the rest of the way.  The car dropped you all off near the club, and Zemo held out his hand to help you out of the vehicle.  He put an arm around your waist at a respectful level, but Bucky took one look and halted.

   “Okay, this isn’t going to work,” Bucky snapped.  Everyone’s eyes were on him.

   Sincerity was written all over Zemo’s features as he responded.  “I assure you, it will.” Suddenly, his eyes flickered with realization, though you glanced between the two men in confusion.  “I know you don’t trust me, James, and I understand your discomfort.  However, you are playing the part of the Winter Soldier.  It is best if she remains inconspicuous as my date.”

   “Wait, that’s what this is about?” Sam asked in disbelief.  “Who ________ pretends to date?”  Your eyes fell to the pavement.  The situation was already unpleasant.  The last thing you wanted was to bring confusing feelings into the mix while in the middle of an important mission.

   Bucky began to protest.  “No, I-”

   “Relax,” Sam said, holding up his hands to show he meant no offense.  “________, you can stay by me.  Smiling Tiger can have a date, right?”  He looked to Zemo for confirmation.

   “Excellent idea.”  He nodded in approval.  “Just remember to stay in character.  All of you.”  

(Link to Part 2)

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Perfectly Fine

Prompt: Hi! I would love to read something from you featuring asexual Remus! - anon

it is project onto fictional characters hour my dudes

Read on Ao3

Warnings: discussions of the reality of being a sex-repulsed ace in a very allo world, nothing explicit

Pairings: none you heathens

Word Count: 1358

It takes them longer to figure it out than it should have and honestly, that’s on them.

But Remus is Remus, and that's perfectly fine.

It takes them longer to figure it out than it should have and honestly, that’s on them.

So it’s no secret that Remus’s particular sense of humor is equally as derived from what he finds funny and what makes the others the most uncomfortable. Logan did an analysis of it once and the results were 49%-51%. Which one is which varies but the quantities are incredibly consistent.

The trick is figuring out that the balance applies to Remus too.

And sure, the idea of Remus being uncomfortable is…difficult to remember sometimes, given that, you know, he’s Remus, but it’s there! It’s worth remembering! He’s a Side too! But considering his metric for ‘uncomfortable’ is wildly different from everyone else’s, it’s easy for them to overlook it. Maybe he gets some excitement out of grossing himself out too, maybe there’s a sick thrill in seeing just how close he can get himself to vomiting, honestly, who knows. Remus is Remus and that’s perfectly fine.

So here’s the big one that, again, took them way too long to figure out.

Remus is asexual. Not just asexual, sex-repulsed asexual.

Let’s reiterate: Remus is Remus and that’s perfectly fine.

It just…took them by surprise, is all.

“Wait,” Logan says, adjusting his glasses, “you’re asexual?”

“Those are the words I used,” Remus says, his head hanging off the couch.

“I—I heard you, I am…simply surprised,” Logan settles on, closing his notebook and setting it aside. “I would not have guessed that Thomas’s Sides would have different sexualities or romantic orientations.”

“What does it matter, Pocket Protector?”

“It doesn’t, it’s interesting to me.”

“Does that mean that all of us could potentially have different sexualities?” Patton’s head pokes above the counter as he digs for the good muffin tray—not the one Janus swiped three hours ago, of course not—in the cabinets. “Or no?”

Logan shrugs. “I imagine it would be possible, though I find it likely that at least some of us share Thomas’s.”

“My ears are burning,” Roman announces, plopping onto the couch next to his brother, “what incredibly gay thing are we talking about now?”

“Yeesh, Princey,” Virgil mutters, recovering from flinching horribly into the chair, “don’t do that, you scared the hell outta me.”

“Sorry, Virgil.” Roman taps Remus’s leg, hanging up over the back of the couch next to his head. “Why’re you upside-down?”

“Why’re you right-side up?”

“Remus…prompted a discussion on sexualities,” Logan says carefully, sparing a glance at Remus, “and we were debating the question of if we, as Thomas’s Sides, all have different sexualities.”

Remus kicks Roman in the head. “Told them I’m ace.”

“Oh, that makes more sense.”

“Really, and here I thought Remus beginning a complex introspective conversation was the height of character accuracy.”

“Payback,” Virgil sniggers as Roman startles horribly as Janus appears from behind the couch. “All jokes aside, I’m with L, I, uh, didn’t expect Remus to be ace.”

“Why not?”

Janus scoffs. “Couldn’t be the number of sex jokes you make on a daily basis, not at all.”

Remus shrugs.

“I think it’s just surprising considering how comfortable you are making the jokes, kiddo.”

“The fuck makes you think I’m comfortable with them?”

“Lang—what?” Patton’s head pops up again.

“A wild Patton appears!”

“Has Thomas…ever been interested in Pokémon?”

“What do you mean, comfortable?” Patton tilts his head, focused entirely on Remus and not the others making Pokémon jokes. “Are—are you not comfortable?”

“Remus isn’t exactly known for his ‘comfortable’ sense of humor, Padre,” Roman says, leaning back on the couch to make eye contact around Remus’s legs.

“But—but that—hold on.” Patton stands up—“ah! More Wild Patton!”—and puts his hands on the counter. “Remus, why would you make jokes that make you uncomfortable?”

Remus eyes him from upside-down. “Why does anyone do anything?”

“Sheer, absolute boredom, yeah, yeah, we get it,” Virgil sighs, “but it’s a good question, Remus.”

Remus just shrugs, only for it to dislodge him from his precarious position and slide toward the floor. Roman watches him collapse into a graceless heap and rolls his eyes, lying down on the couch.

“Hey! You stole my spot!”

“You’re the one who moved. Hey—!” Roman squawks in surprise as Remus throws himself on top of him. “You’re squishing me!”

“Too bad for you.”

“Remus,” Janus says softly, “are you…does sex make you uncomfortable?”

“Like maggots are crawling through my bones!”

The living room is quiet for a moment, enough to make Remus push himself up and stare around at them.

“What?”

“Sex isn’t something shameful, Remus,” Patton says patiently—and wow, isn’t that a surprise— “I promise.”

Remus rolls his eyes. “I know that, it just makes me want to rip all of my skin off and start over.”

“Why?”

“It’s bad enough I have to live in this meat sack,” he grouses, flopping back down and eliciting a soft ‘oof’ from Roman, “don’t need to be consciously reminded of it.”

“...‘meat sack?’”

“Oh, sorry, Lolo, ‘flexible container of mostly water.’”

“That’s not—well, yes, I suppose that is more accurate,” Logan says as he adjusts his tie, “but why would you choose to refer to your body as a meat sack?”

Remus shrugs. “’S not like I’d choose to be in this fucking thing. Evolution fucked up when it made us this way, at least we aren’t fucking horses. Oh, hey—“

“No,” Roman interrupts, “no jokes about that.”

“Spoilsport.”

“Remus?”

“What do you want, Snake-Face?”

“Are you…uncomfortable with your body?”

“Every day! It’s awful! I wish I didn’t have one!” At Janus’s muffled noise of heartbreak, Remus cranes his neck to look up at him. “Oh, relax, I’m fine, discomfort is part of my existence.”

“But it shouldn’t have to be.”

Remus huffs a sigh when he realizes that everyone else is looking at him with a similar amount of concern. Well, except Roman, but Roman gets it so that makes sense.

“I may or may not be being slightly dramatic, I am fine.”

“Can confirm,” Roman hums lazily, “comes with the Creativity gig.”

“Look, I just don’t like that it’s—it’s—“ Remus’s gaze lands on Patton— “look, Cookie Monster over there is allergic to cats, right?”

Logan frowns, glancing back and forth between them. “Yes, what does—“

“He’s not gonna die from it and he can still be around them, he’s just hyperaware of when there are cats and he can’t spend a lot of time around them without being really uncomfortable, right?”

Logan blinks in surprise. “Yes, I understand what you’re saying. Very clever analogy.”

“I am Creativity, you nitwit.”

He rolls his eyes fondly. “Of course.”

“So,” Virgil says cautiously, waving a hand at him, “you’re…good?”

“Yep. Goody-goody gumdrops, that’s me.”

“As long as you never say that again, fine.”

Roman gives him a hug. “I’m proud of you, Re, coming out is hard. Especially when you have to give people a vocabulary lesson when you do it.”

“Thanks, Ro-Bro.” Remus’s grin widens. “Does that mean I get to pick the movie for tonight?”

“What? No! It’s my pick! Hey! Hey!” Roman squeals as Remus starts to poke his belly. “Don’t! Dohohon’t!”

“Let me pick!”

“No!”

“Boys,” Janus sighs, reaching out and using his six arms to separate the twins, “that’s enough. Roman, what movie are we watching?”

“Pacific Rim.”

“Hey, wait, that’s what I was gonna pick!”

“See? There you go.”

Logan perks up immediately. “Does this mean we finally get to watch a movie with no romantic subplot?”

“And batshit physics.”

“We can overlook the batshit physics.”

“Whoa, L, what happened to you?”

“I…may have a greater appreciation for the cinematic depictions of the machinery.”

Patton just rolls his eyes and gets back to searching for the muffin pan. No movie night is complete without fresh baked goods. Ah, there it is, although he could’ve sworn he looked there a few moments ago…

Anyway, they end the conversation in the same place it started.

Remus is Remus, and that’s perfectly fine.

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[cherienymphe]

None Of Your Concern (Chris Evans x Reader)

WARNINGS: DUB-CON(NON-CON?), AGE GAP, CHEATING(?)

DNI IF ANY OF THIS OFFENDS YOU

➥ {page breaks done by @whimsicalrogers}

summary:  costars for a little over a year, Chris has always been protective of you in the cutthroat industry much like a father would be. However, when he learns that your boyfriend is even older than him, he realizes that his feelings might not be so familial after all

~

“Okay, so it’s sort of cool that a small chunk of the Avengers gang is reunited for this movie,” the interviewer said with a chuckle.

You all joined in, in agreement. She rested her blue eyes on you.

“I know that you were a huge fan of the franchise, Y/N. I mean, over the years there have been quite a few tweets from you about the movies, ranging from…‘Spider-Man’s on team Iron-Man so therefore I am on team Iron-Man’ to ‘Scott Lang deserves the world’,” she said, reading from her phone.

Tom got a huge kick out of that first one, and you rolled your eyes. The interviewer’s eyes flickered between you two, a small smile on her lips.

“I mean, am I wrong? Does Scott Lang not deserve the world?”

She nodded with a grin.

“No, you’re right, he definitely does! I just feel like being cast in this movie and having been on the set for a little over a year must have been something like a dream come true,” she pressed.

You thought about your answer for a moment, just like your publicist advised.

“Yeah, you could say that. It’s sort of surreal going from having been kind of a casual fan of someone to interacting with them almost every day for a year,” you honestly answered.

You didn’t know if you would ever get used to interviews, no matter how private they were. You were grateful you weren’t on Jimmy Fallon or something with a live audience watching your every move, but sitting next to Tom, Anthony, Sebastian, Chris, and Tessa in a room was almost just as bad in your eyes.

“…and you’ve gotten super close with your castmates, I’d say.”

You heard Tessa clear her throat, and when you caught her eye, she gave you a look, but you didn’t understand it.

“Yeah, definitely! I love them all and they’ve easily become some of my closest friends now,” you replied, eyes meeting the interviewer’s again.

She threw you a secretive smile.

“…but you and Tom seem to hang out together more than the rest of the cast. As thick as thieves some would say,” she pressed.

Your lips parted, caught off guard, and when you caught Tessa’s eye again, you recognized the sympathetic look she was giving you. A light bulb seemed to go off in your head as you realized what she was trying to warn you against earlier, the very thing you’d unknowingly walked into. Luckily, Tom jumped in before you did.

“Well,” he started, straightening in his seat, shoulder brushing your own. “Y/N and I are the youngest members of the main cast. We don’t really have much in common with the senior citizens to my left.”

He feigned a whisper during the last part, not so discreetly pointing to his left. It had the desired effect, and you were grateful that he was trying to draw the attention away from you.

“Um,” Tessa loudly began, straightening up in her seat just as Anthony, Chris, and Sebastian all spoke up at once.

“I think what he means to say is we don’t allow the children to eat at the adult’s table,” Anthony threw in.

“Yeah, its definitely more like we exclude them, and they have no choice but to hang out together,” Sebastian joked.

“Senior citizens,” Chris scoffed, cutting his eyes at Tom.

The interviewer laughed at the turn of events, but unfortunately, she was determined to expose whatever she thought was going on between you and Tom.

“So you two are rather close then? Being alienated and all,” she chuckled.

Tom laughed, albeit a bit uncomfortably as it became clear that she wasn’t going to give up. He nudged you, gesturing for you to take the stand, having already tried to steer her in another direction.

“Well…yes, but we’re all rather close, but yeah. I would say that Tom is kind of like my best friend,” you honestly told her.

She aw’d at that, tilting her head to the side. You cut your eyes to everyone else in the room, narrowing them as it became clear that they weren’t going to help the two of you get out of this. You just knew Anthony was enjoying this…

“Just friends then? Because you two have a lot of fans, and a lot of them seem to think there’s more to the friendship, or at least, they hope there is, and honestly? Who can blame them? You two are always spotted hanging out together, going for coffee, running to Target… You’re practically joined at the hip.”

As she came outright and said it, you both wasted no time in refuting it.

“Oh, God no,” you cried, shaking your head.

“No, no, absolutely not,” Tom laughed. “Y/N and I are simply good friends. She has much better taste than I do, hence why I have to drag her to Target. Besides, we don’t have Target back home, so whenever I’m in the states, I’m going shopping there every chance I get.”

“I don’t know, I think they answered that just a little too quickly for me,” Tessa suddenly wondered aloud.

You threw her a look of betrayal as Chris added on.

“Yeah, that…that wasn’t convincing, at all,” he said in between chuckles.

You gaped at him as Tom ran his hand through his hair.

“No, Y/N and I are just friends, and nothing more. She-she has a boyfriend, anyway,” he threw out, and you playfully hit his arm.

“Tom,” you warned.

You weren’t genuinely upset that he’d let that slip, especially since you didn’t exactly care if people knew. People knowing you had a boyfriend wasn’t the cause of your apprehension. It came from certain details about your boyfriend…

“Wait, you have a boyfriend?”

Four people said several variations of this at the same time, and you cringed. Tom at least looked a bit ashamed as the interviewer watch on in amusement.

“I didn’t say any names,” he defended, hands up.

You caught Anthony’s eye and he was looking at you like you’d just hid the world’s biggest secret. Tessa looked scandalized as well, and you didn’t dare look at Chris and Sebastian.

“Wait…wait a minute,” the interviewer said, sitting up in her own chair as she looked at you two.

There was a slow smirk forming on her lips.

“So…you have a boyfriend that nobody else seems to know about…except for Tom…”

You both froze, realizing how this looked. A few chuckles reached your ears, and you exhaled.

“Okay, I know how this looks…”

“It isn’t like that, at all,” Tom reiterated. “He’s a swell chap, no, really. He’s brilliant-.”

“You’ve met him then?”

“Well, yeah-.”

“Wait, wait, wait. So how come you’ve met this ‘boyfriend’ and none of us have?” Anthony wondered.

“Yeah, this sounds like a bit of a cover,” the interviewer added.

“Not a very convincing one,” Sebastian whispered.

“Okay, okay! I know that I’m not super talkative about it, but have we all forgotten that I have a girlfriend?”

That seemed to quiet everyone down.

“…besides, her boyfriend is like forty anyway, so its definitely not me,” he laughed, realizing too late what he’d said.

“Tom!” you cried.

Both of his hands were covering his mouth, eyes wide as all hell broke loose. You blinked several times, mouth agape in shock.

“I’m sorry, what?” Tessa yelled over the others.

“Forty?”

Sebastian, Chris, and Anthony were all talking over each other, all of their questions directed at you while you just stared at Tom who stared back, pleading. He slid his hands down, teeth bared as shame filled his features, cringing.

“I’m so, so, so sorry…”

His apology was overshadowed by Sebastian.

“Forty?” he repeated.

“Tom’s exaggerating, okay? He’s more like thirty,” you quickly said, trying to ease the tension and make light of the situation.

Tom’s eyes were wide as they met yours, and you quickly looked away.

“So, the boyfriend isn’t Tom…and he’s only thirty then?” the interviewer finally spoke up when the room was finally quiet once again.

You sighed, eyes meeting Tom’s again as he looked to see what you were going to do. You thought about what your publicist would advise. You’d been a part of stan twitter once. You knew how the internet could be. They’d dig until they found out the truth, and discovering his actual age, and identity by extension, would be pretty bad for both of you. Against your better judgement, you decided to be truthful since the cat was out of the bag, hoping it’d be enough to keep people’s curiosity at bay.

“No, he’s definitely 43,” you quietly admitted.

Once again, all hell broke loose.

As soon as the interview was over, you were the first one out of the room, Tom right behind you. You could hear your name being called, and Tom pushed you along.

“Go, go, go,” he urged.

You had just made it to your dressing room when a muscular arm slid between the door and the frame as you attempted to close it.

“Anthony, not now!”

“No, no, now.”

He pushed the door open, and you denied him entrance, two familiar faces behind him. Neither him, Sebastian, or Chris looked pleased with you, and you just knew that they weren’t going to let this go…not without a fight. Tessa passed by, and you sent her a pleading look.

She heaved a sigh, slowing down before reaching out to pull them all back.

“C’mon guys. Leave the poor girl alone,” she said.

“We just want to talk,” Sebastian said.

It was a lie.

“I’m not discussing this with you,” you told them, eyes meeting Chris’. “Any of you.”

You tried to ignore his frown as you closed and locked the door. With a sigh, you dug through your purse for your phone. You texted Alex, your boyfriend, warning him of what might make it into the article. You weren’t actually upset about the turn of events, you just hated the aftermath that would ensue.

You blamed the interviewer most of all. You knew that Tom was just trying to clear the air and make it known that there wasn’t anything going on between you two. You knew how flustered he could get sometimes when he started rambling, and you also texted him to let him know that everything was fine, and you weren’t mad.

Your main concern was the trio down the hall. Tessa felt like an older sister at times, and while you wish that it had been on your terms, you weren’t opposed to talking to her about this. You knew the conversation was going to happen eventually. Anthony, Sebastian, and Chris on the other hand were a completely different matter.

You stuck your head out, glancing around before leaving the room.

Your friendship with Seb was way more casual than with the other two. You cracked jokes and hung out with all of them often, but half the time it felt like Chris and Anthony were scolding you and telling you what you could or couldn’t do. Sebastian didn’t care, and you liked that. Hence why you didn’t verbally oppose when he suddenly came out of nowhere, easily falling into stride with you.

He didn’t say anything for a while, but you knew it was coming. You bit your lip, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye, noticing that he was doing the same. He abruptly stopped, and so did you.

“Forty-three?”

You avoided his piercing gaze, adjusting your bag on your shoulder as he faced you.

“Seb…please…”

“I mean, I’m not judging, I promise,” he said, hands raised.

“Except, you are though,” you sighed, looking at him. “You’re judging, just a little bit.”

His arms fell at his sides.

“Okay, so I’m judging just a little bit, but can you blame me? The guy’s older than Anthony,” he scoffed.

You chuckled.

“Yeah, he is, but I don’t care,” you told him.

“Clearly. I’m just saying, he’s old enough to be your father,” he said.

“Well, it’s a good thing he’s not, because then that would be weird,” you threw at him, rolling your eyes.

He heaved a heavy sigh, and somehow, you got the feeling that he’d drawn the short straw on who was going to come and talk sense into you. You briefly glanced down the hall, brows furrowed. He placed his hands on your shoulders, and you hated how he was looking at you. Like you were a child doing something bad. Your jaw clenched.

“I know you’re an adult…”

You let out a humorless chuckle.

“Do you know who you sound like, right now?”

He rolled his eyes towards the ceiling.

“At the risk of sounding like Chris…”

“You sound like Chris, that’s who you sound like.”

“…this industry can be…ruthless,” he continued.

“Don’t I know it?” you sarcastically replied.

“…and you’re still so fresh and new and there are plenty of people just looking to take advantage of someone like you and your talent and potential…”

“My boyfriend isn’t one of them, okay? He has plenty of talent on his own,” you informed him.

Sebastian tilted his head to the side, eyes narrowing.

“What his name, anyway?”

“I don’t think that’s any of your business,” you slowly sang.

“Well…what does he do?”

“Again, none of your business.”

“How did you meet? How long have you been seeing him? Something, anything! Anything at all?”

You pursed your lips before releasing a soft sigh.

“We’ve been seeing each other for about 7 months now,” you admitted.

His eyes almost bugged out of his head, lips parting.

“7 months?”

You pulled away from him, the day finally getting to you.

“Look, Seb, I have to go. I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you guys, but to be honest, this was the main reason why, so…”

You paused, facing him again.

“Please, tell Chris and Anthony not to worry, okay? I know they’re freaking the fuck out and probably sent you on their behalf. I’ll see you guys tomorrow,” you called over your shoulder as you exited the building.

When you got home, there was a slew of text messages awaiting you. Most were from Anthony, and you answered all of them as best as you could. He was just worried, and you definitely understood that, but he was freaking out more than your own mother had when you told her about Alex.

“It just…took me by surprise,” was the first thing he said when he picked up the phone.

“I know, I know,” you sighed, browsing your fridge for something to eat. “I was always going to tell you guys if it ever got more serious.”

“More serious?” he scoffed. “Seb said you guys have been dating for 7 months.”

You rolled your eyes.

“We clearly have different definitions of a serious relationship,” you mumbled.

“It’s just concerning, alright? If my kid was dating someone 20 years older than them, I’d be rightfully concerned,” he defended. “Especially considering I’ve never met this man and don’t know anything about him.”

“Look at the word you just used: kid. That is something I am not,” you said, slamming your fridge shut. “…and there’s no need to meet him.”

“I disagree.”

“That’s fine,” you tersely replied.

You heard him exhale on the other end, a tense silence falling between you two. You were being a little harsh, you knew that, especially considering Anthony always treated you like family, but you needed to make him, all of them, understand that you were an adult who could make her own decisions. They had no say in this.

“…you heard from Chris?” he eventually asked.

“No, actually, and that’s a little worrisome, I’m not going to lie,” you honestly added, running your eyes over your wine collection.

“Yeah, well, he’s not happy,” Anthony told you.

“If he’s going to pout about this like my personal dating choices offended him or something, then he can suck my ass.”

A laugh met you from the other end, a genuine laugh, and you cracked a smile.

“He’ll come around. You know how much you mean to him,” he finally said after he calmed down.

You did know. Chris was one of the first people to talk to you on set, trying to make you feel more comfortable. It was your first big movie, your first time starring with household names, with people that had way more experience than you. He got you to laugh on your first day and even dragged you over to meet everyone else. He’d taken you under his wing…

Your heart clenched as you thought about how he must feel. It was your business, sure, but you couldn’t pretend like you didn’t feel guilty. You felt even worse once you thought about the fact that you’d told Tom and not him, but Tom didn’t judge you. Tom didn’t treat you like some kid who didn’t know any better half the time.

“I’ll text him,” you told Anthony. “See if I can get him to accept my white flag…”

“You do that. See you tomorrow, kiddo.”

You texted Chris as soon as you hung up, and as the night wore on, your worry grew. You found yourself periodically checking your phone for any type of response, but you got nothing. Alex called though and talked with you until you fell asleep. He was overseas, filming in his home country at the moment, but he called you every day.

He wasn’t bothered at all by what might be in the article, only making sure that you were okay.

“Yeah…I’m okay,” you quietly replied.

“Are you sure? You don’t sound it,” he quietly replied, deep voice gruff.

You frowned before turning to look at your clock.

“Isn’t it like…3 in the morning over there?”

“You didn’t answer my question,” he lightly said, ignoring your own.

You sighed.

“I’m fine, really. It’s just…there was a reason I didn’t want to tell everyone, and some people are proving me right…”

“They’ll come around,” he assured.

“You know Seb isn’t the type to care too much, but even he was more judgmental than I expected. Anthony is slowly coming around, but Chris… He’s not answering any of my texts.”

He was quiet for a while before finally responding.

“Maybe that’s for the best.”

You frowned again, sitting up in bed.

“What do you mean?”

“He is a bit…overprotective of you, isn’t he? I know he just gets concerned, but sometimes he acts like he’s your father and…he’s not. He shouldn’t have any say in what you do,” he elaborated.

You rubbed your eyes.

“I know what you’re saying is true because I’ve thought it myself, but for some reason it sounds harsh coming from your lips,” you groaned.

He chuckled.

“I don’t mean for it to, I promise. I just mean that maybe this will force him to lighten up a bit and realize that there are boundaries and lines he shouldn’t cross…”

You blinked.

“Huh. You might be onto something,” you admitted. “I know he thinks I’m such a child sometimes. Maybe this will make him wake up.”

You didn’t stay on the phone for much longer, and your heart sank when you hung up only to see no new notifications. Was Chris ignoring you? With a huff, you plugged your phone up and settled into bed.

You sipped on the coffee Tom had gotten you on the way here, leaning against the wall as you watched Chris and Anthony talk to the interviewer. This one preferred to talk to a few of you at a time, and considering the disaster that happened a week ago, you quite liked that.

That pushy girl had indeed included the bit about your love life in the article. Fortunately, it was tastefully done, only mentioning it in passing, but she had included that the rest of the cast, sans Tom, had been none the wiser. You hadn’t checked to see what people were saying about it. It wasn’t their opinions that mattered to you.

Chris hadn’t talked to you since, ignoring every one of your messages. Eventually, you gave up, deciding that he’d talk to you whenever he was ready. At first you were angry once you realized what he was doing, but eventually you became more understanding. He was probably more hurt than anything that you hadn’t trusted him enough to tell him.

You perked up when you heard the mention of your name.

“So, word on the street is that Y/N does indeed have a beau and it’s not Tom Holland…” he started.

Chris and Anthony chuckled, but you could tell it was forced.

“Yeah, man, I don’t think anyone was more shocked about that one than their fans,” he laughed. “…but we all know they’re just good friends. It was a nice running joke for a while though.”

Chris didn’t say anything, and the interviewer continued.

“Speaking of shocked, is it true that the rest of you guys were completely in the dark about it? I read that the ball was actually dropped during the interview. I mean, how awkward that must’ve been…”

Chris exhaled.

“Yeah…it was definitely something. It made my day though.”

Your jaw ticked as you realized that he was putting on a front.

“…and is it true that he’s 43? I mean, I’ll definitely ask Y/N this later on-.”

“Then it’d probably be best if she answered that,” Anthony interrupted, and you mentally thanked him.

“Well…the secret’s out, right?” Chris laughed, and you frowned. “Yeah, she says he’s 43.”

Your frown deepened.

“That’d be like dating one of you guys, I’d imagine, but at least it’ll be easy for him to get on well with you guys. You all are rather close with Y/N, so that must be of some importance to her,” the interviewer replied.

“I don’t know about that one considering we found out with the rest of the world,” Chris joked, but you saw right through it. “I suppose it’s a good thing we didn’t know though because…”

He suddenly trailed off, letting out a low ‘whew’. He shook his head.

“No. I never would have allowed it.”

Your jaw dropped, staring at him like he’d grown a second head as the words registered within your mind. You didn’t even hear the rest of what was said as you backed up. You almost bumped into Tessa, and she steadied you.

“Woah,” she said. “You okay?”

“No, actually,” you slowly replied, turning to face her. “I’m not.”

You found that it was true. Your stomach churned and you felt like you were going to vomit any moment. The audacity of him!

“I…I have to go,” you told her.

You let your publicist know that you were feeling ill, and you waved bye to Tom on the way out, his brows furrowed in confusion as he hesitantly waved back. You fought tears the entire way to your apartment, shaking your head in disbelief. Never mind the fact that Chris has said that, but the fact that he’d confidently said it in front of other people.

“Never would have allowed it?” you mumbled to yourself.

You were gripping the wheel so hard you were sure it would break. As you furiously got out of your car, you thought to yourself that you didn’t even care if he texted you back or not. You weren’t in the mood to even look at his face, let alone talk to him.

After you showered and poured yourself a glass of wine, you curled up on your couch, staring at the tv…but not watching it. Chris’ words kept replaying, and you wondered how he could even fix his mouth to say such a thing. He wasn’t your father! There wasn’t a damn thing in the world he could forbid you to do.

And before you knew it, you had downed two more glasses and that was exactly what you were texting him. You were certain your thumbs would crack the screen with how furiously you were typing. When you were done, you turned your phone off, slamming it on the table as you returned your gaze to the tv.

It was hours later when you heard a knock on your door. You briefly wondered who it was, but you had suspicions that it was probably Tom. You’d left in such a hurry, and your phone was off, so he was probably coming to check on you. With a buzz coursing through your veins, you pulled the door open, only for your face to drop when your eyes connected with blue ones…not brown.

He didn’t exactly look thrilled to see you either, and you were certain that your face was no different. You pursed your lips, going through a pros and cons checklist of letting him in before scoffing. You swung the door open wider before turning your back on him. You heard him close it, his feet following yours into the kitchen.

You didn’t spare him a glance as you poured yourself another glass, taking up residence on the other side of the small island. Eventually, when he didn’t say anything, you looked up at him, a frown on your face.

“Are you actually going to say something? Or just stand there and stare at me?”

Chris heaved a sigh, resting one hand on the counter while the other found a home on his hip. He stared you down, jaw ticking beneath his beard.

“You’re upset with me…”

“I wonder what makes you think that?” you mumbled into your glass.

“…but I’m upset with you too.”

“Yeah, well, at least my anger is valid,” you spat.

“…and mine isn’t?” he threw back.

You huffed, glancing away from him.

“If you’re upset that I didn’t tell you, then I’m sorry. I mean that. I don’t want you to think I don’t trust you or anything, but you have to understand why I didn’t say anything. Look at how you’re reacting,” you said, gesturing to him.

His nostrils flared.

“What does a man like that have in common with someone like you anyway?”

You jutted out your hip, resting your hand on it as you stared him down.

“Someone could easily ask you the same thing. What, I can be friends with you, Anthony, and Sebastian despite the age difference, but I can’t date someone who’s the same age as you?”

“It’s a bit different. We are your friends, we look out for you, we are not trying to…”

He swallowed his words, seeming like he couldn’t even bear to say it. You smirked at him.

“So I can choose my friends, but I can’t choose who I fuck?”

He glared at you.

“I mean…that is what you’re saying, right?”

“You can choose someone who’s acceptable…”

“…and who are you to say he’s not acceptable?” you demanded, offended on Alex’s behalf. “You don’t even know him.”

He made himself at home, taking a seat as he stared at you, hands folded on the counter.

“So tell me about him then…”

You heaved a long sigh, leaning against the sink as you crossed your arms over your chest.

“He’s…sweet,” you started, pressing your hands to your eyes. “Oh my God, he’s so sweet, Chris. You’d get along great with him. He’s funny, he loves dogs, and he has the biggest and kindest family you’ll ever meet. He’s filming overseas, right now-.”

“So he’s an actor,” Chris interrupted, sounding displeased.

“Yes. He calls me every night…,” you trailed off, suddenly uncomfortable.

“You told Anthony that it wasn’t serious…”

You looked down.

“I really like him, okay? That’s why I don’t care what you guys think. I’m not breaking up with him just because you don’t approve,” you said, eyes meeting his again. “You’re not my father, and you can’t tell me what to do.”

“No, I’m not your father, and I’m sure as hell glad for that, but someone definitely needs to be…”

“Screw you, Chris,” you murmured.

He glared at you, and you fought back tears, surprised at how much this was hurting your feelings.

“I don’t understand why you’re so mad about this! Why are you treating me like I can’t make my own decisions?”

“Because I think you’re making bad ones,” he answered, rising and heading towards the door.

You balled your hands into fists as he made his way out.

You spun away from Tessa, a thin layer of sweat clinging to your skin. Today was the last day of filming, and the crew members were hosting a party. You’d almost let Chris’ sour attitude ruin it for you, but Tessa convinced you to come.

She’d arrived at your apartment early in the morning, fed up with your sulking. You told her about your argument with Chris, and she listened while you ranted about his behavior. You talked with her about Alex too, eager to tell her everything. Talking to Tom about him was nice and all, but it was different with Tessa.

She comprehended why you had never said anything about your relationship, far more understanding than Chris or even Anthony had been. She made you feel a lot better about the whole situation and assured you that Chris would get over it. He hadn’t spoken to you the entire time you’d been here, so you didn’t know about that.

It pained you to think that your friendship with him could end just like that over something so insignificant as to who you were dating, something that didn’t affect his life in the slightest. You stumbled away from Tessa, realizing that you’d had more to drink than you thought. You touched her arm.

“Hey, I’m gonna head inside. Try to rest my nerves for a bit…”

“Okay,” she said. “Hurry back when you feel better.”

“K.”

You trudged your way inside of the huge house, heading straight for the kitchen. You filled a glass with water from the sink, emptying it in no time. You were ready to go for another when movement from your left caught your eye.

You looked over your shoulder, pausing when your gaze connected with that of Chris’. He didn’t look like he was having fun, and your shoulders sagged.

“Can we talk for a minute?”

You eyed him, almost sadly, before swallowing. You nodded, forgetting the glass of water and opting to follow him instead. You stumbled a few times, alcohol coursing through your system, but thankfully Chris didn’t notice.

You followed him into a guest bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed as he turned on the light. He was dressed plainly in jeans and a dark tee, a darker cardigan hugging his arms and shoulders. He rested his hands on his hips in that Captain America way you often teased him about, and you fought a smile.

“I’m sorry,” he eventually breathed.

You blinked at him, the alcohol making it hard to process what he said.

“You’re…sorry?”

Your voice was small and unsure, and his face crumbled as he moved to sit beside you.

“You’re right. I can’t tell you who you can or can’t date. I shouldn’t have said what I said in that interview,” he admitted.

You let out a soft chuckle.

“No…you shouldn’t have. I was so…embarrassed when you said that Chris,” you said, looking at him.

“I know,” he whispered. “I don’t want to make you feel that way. I thought I was upset because you hid it from me, but…”

You eyed him, waiting for him to continue. His gaze met yours.

“I don’t have any rights to your dating life, but…I want to,” he slowly replied.

You frowned at him, and he continued.

“I care about you…”

“I know. I care about you too,” you told him in the quiet room.

“I’m attracted to you, Y/N,” he confessed, making your eyes widen. “I always have been.”

Your lips parted, surprise and confusion filling you.

“I told myself from the beginning that my feelings were innocent, that I was just looking out for you. I convinced myself that my anger at your relationship came from a place of concern…but that isn’t true.”

“Chris…”

“Somewhere down the line, in the back of my mind, I had accepted that anything between us would be inappropriate. That you’d be repulsed…and then, come to find out, your boyfriend is even older than me.”

He chuckled, finding some warped humor in it all.

“I felt cheated. I felt like that could be me…like that should be me…”

You didn’t know what to say. You’d have to be blind to deny that Chris was handsome. He was one of the most sought-after men in America, but your feelings had been fleeting…shallow. You thought Anthony and Sebastian and Tom were handsome too, but in an appreciative sort of way. That was how you saw Chris too.

“I’m…with Alex. You know that…”

He took your hands, scooting closer.

“…but could that have been me? Tell me the truth,” he pleaded.

“I…I don’t know-.”

“I think you do. I think you thought like I thought and pushed any desires out of your mind.”

Your mind was fuzzy, too much alcohol in your system to fully process this conversation. You moved to stand, but he held you in place.

“Chris, I think I should go…”

You trailed off when his lips met yours, and you jerked back, eyes wide.

“I have a boyfriend, you know that…”

“You haven’t answered my question,” he told you.

“I…I don’t know! But it doesn’t matter because I am with someone!”

“…and that someone could have been me.”

“But it’s not, so-.”

He kissed you again, wrapping his arms around you. You reached in between your bodies, pressing the palms of your hands against his chest. He moved back, but he brought you with him. He rolled you over until you were beneath him, and you made a noise of protest deep in your throat.

“Chris,” you mumbled into his lips, pushing against him again.

He was smooth in reaching under your dress to take hold of your underwear, pulling them down your legs with ease. You opened your mouth to protest again, but all that came out was a gasp when his hand slid between your thighs.

You shook in his arms as he played between your legs, fingers ghosting over you and prodding you until he was able to slide them into your soaking lips. A choked moan climbed out of your throat, and he hummed as his lips trailed down your chin, peppering kisses along your neck.

Your body felt light, limbs numb as you heard him fooling around with his pants, the sound of his zipper deafening in the quiet room. You knew what was about to happen. Your brain was screaming at you, but you couldn’t move. You didn’t know if it was the alcohol or shock, but you were powerless to stop him.

You reached out to place your hands on his when he parted your legs, and you didn’t know if it was to pull his hands away…or not. You caught a glimpse of him as he settled between your legs, stomach sinking as you blinked at the sight of him…bare…for you.

“Chris,” you mumbled, unsure of what you were going to say.

It didn’t matter, anyway. His lips were covering yours as he pressed the head of his cock against your folds, prodding and prolonging the inevitable. You thought about Alex, and that sobered you up a bit, but it was too late.

You threw your head back against the mattress, nails digging into Chris’ hands as he thrust inside of you. The noise that escaped him was orgasmic, the deep sound causing you to clench around his length. He hissed at that before completely leaning over you, forearms pressed into the mattress beside your head as he started to move.

Shallow breaths left your lips as he pumped into you, the squelching sound of his retreat and entry reaching your ears. Your eyes were unfocused, hands coming up to rest on his sides as you started to moan. He joined you, bending his head to kiss you again and again.

There were odd brief moments at the start of filming where you idly wondered what it would be like to kiss Chris. You never imagined that you’d find out for sure. Then when you and Alex happened, you’d left those girlish and embarrassing fantasies behind. His lips were soft and sweet with the taste of whatever drink he’d had, and he moved them over yours with so much expertise it made your head spin.

“That feel good?” he breathlessly wondered, jerking his hips into yours.

You gave a shaky nod.

“U-uh-huh,” you gasped, clenching around him.

“God, you’re so beautiful… You know that?” he mumbled, kissing you again.

Your toes flexed, stomach clenching as well.

“I thought about you all last night,” he quietly professed. “I thought about your lips and these fucking thighs and how it’d feel to be in between them…”

“Chris,” you whined.

“You’re so tight,” he hissed in your ear. “Tighter than I’d imagined you’d be.”

One of your hands traveled to his back, bunching up his shirt and sweater.

“Chris,” you gasped, breath hitching. “Chris, I think…”

Your words died on your tongue as you moaned, wrapping your legs around him, pulling him closer. He groaned against your skin, lifting his head to look into your eyes.

“You gonna come for me?”

You gave a jerky nod, tightening your grip on him. He hissed when you clenched around him again, blue eyes boring into your own.

“Yeah? You’re fucking choking my cock. A greedy little thing,” he murmured, never taking his eyes off of yours. “Come on, baby. Show me what I do to you…”

You shook in his arms as your climax rushed over you, legs trembling and eyes rolling as you clenched around him again and again. He wasn’t done, fucking you through it until you were an incoherent mess beneath him.

You never did rejoin Tessa on the dance floor.

~

tags: @harryspet​ @coconutqueen21​ @readermia​ @nickyl316h​

[vnderoos]

looks like slytherin betrayal to me ✷ fred weasley

(gif is not mine, credit to the owner) warnings / language, underaged drinking, steamy scene word count / 5.4k

masterlist in bio ↴

MUGGLE STUDIES HAD BEEN nothing but boring that day, so it only made sense that Y/N had been so quick to leave. Well, that, and the fact that it was her last class of the day. She sucked in a deep breath as she made her way towards the Great Hall for lunch, happy to get a lungful of something other than the smell of dusty books and parchment paper, but her newfound relief didn't last long. She'd made it not even halfway down the corridor when she felt a presence pop up on either side of her.

"You're coming tonight, right, Y/N?" A voice chimed and she didn't have to look to know it was Fred Weasley, in all of his tall, red-headed glory. She glanced at him, anyways, and she pretended to roll her eyes at the sight of him. Even though he and George had been two of her least favorite people in their first years at Hogwarts, after they'd almost accidentally killed her during one of their firework shows, their persistence had won her affections over somewhere along the way. She'd never verbally admit that to them, but sometimes, she did hope that the two could see through the cracks they'd made in her reptilian demeanor.

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows up at Fred, unsure as to what he was talking about, before she fixed her gaze back on where she was walking. "What's tonight?" she questioned, peeking up at George out of the corner of her eye, and he laughed.

The twins knocked their elbows against hers at the same time, on their shared wavelength, as usual, and they grinned. "It's our party, of course," they said simultaneously and Fred placed his hand on the top of her head, ruffling her hair beneath his fingertips. She shot him an annoyed look, despite the way that her cheeks tinged pink, and grabbed his forearm, flinging it away from her.

He looked amused as she reached up to fix her hair, tucking one of the strands behind her ear after she did. "Exciting," she deadpanned and Fred feigned being offended. He reached out to mess up her hair again, but she pressed her palm into his, locking their fingers in order to hold his hand at bay.

His eyebrows lifted and his lips curled into a small smile. "Not that I'm complaining, Y/L/N, but if you wanted to hold my hand, you could've just asked," he teased, nodding towards their interlocked fingers, and her cheeks turned red.

She wasted no time in ripping her hand out of his and shuffling closer to George. "I wasn't— I didn't—" she stammered, feeling the boiling beneath her cheeks, and she resorted to smacking her palms over them. "Oh, shut up," she snapped and both of the twins started to laugh. She glared at George and he only laughed harder. Willing to do anything to change the subject, she sighed. "How would I even get in, anyways?" she questioned, crossing her arms over her chest sheepishly as the flush started to wear off.

"Fortuna major," Fred hummed, throwing his arm around her shoulders and her cheeks heated right up again. She didn't fight it this time, though, as he jerked her into his side and twisted a lock of her hair around his finger. In fact, it was quite nice, but she'd rather take the Killing Curse than admit it.

Though she wanted to look anywhere but Fred, she couldn't help but let her eyes flicker over to him. He was wearing that familiarly cocky grin of his and it made her heart stutter, but she ignored it. She silently cursed him and his stupid, charming smile. "What's that?" she asked, like she wasn't thinking about reaching up to the hand he'd draped around her and intertwining their fingers again.

"It's the password, darling."

Y/N's heart nearly melted at the pet name, and if she let him think he could get away with it, she knew it'd only be a matter of time before he made her putty in his fingertips. She held up a stern finger and pointed it in his direction. "Do not call me 'darling', Fred," she told him in a firm tone, like she was talking to a naughty cat, and George chuckled from beside her.

"Yeah, Freddie, no 'darling'," George reiterated, shrugging his shoulders. "She's more of a sweetie pie, I reckon," he teased and Y/N's head whipped over to him. She narrowed her eyes at him and he pretended to fight his smile, holding his hands up in surrender.

She turned her head back to Fred. "Call me sweetie pie and I will hex you, boys," she promised and they let out huffs of amusement. She figured her efforts would be in vain and 'sweetie pie' would be a nickname that would resurface eventually, but it didn't hurt to try. "Anyways, isn't it just Gryffindors? You lot hate anyone from Slytherin," she explained.

Fred only shrugged his shoulders and gave hers a squeeze. "Who could hate you, though?" he quipped with his trademark grin and she shook her head in mock annoyance, the smile tugging at her lips giving her away. "I wouldn't worry, anyways. Everyone'll have a bit of Ogden's in their system by the time you get there, anyways, so I think you'll be quite the hit," he added, his fingers rubbing her arm softly as he spoke.

She flashed a look of skepticism up at him, before she looked over at George to see if the two of them were on the same page. He was quick to dispel her worries with a small nod. "If not, everyone trusts us, anyways. We're like gods to them," he said jokingly and Y/N sputtered out a laugh. He wasn't entirely wrong. "We'll vouch for you if we need to, isn't that right, Fred?"

"That's right, George," Fred sang.

Looking between the boys one last time, taking in their sparkling doe eyes and expectant grins, she sighed in defeat. "Fine, I'll come," she caved. At that, the boys laughed in unison and high-fived each other above her head.

—

Y/N looked down at her sweater as she walked up the stairs towards the Gryffindor common room. She plucked at the dark red knitting, having decided to wear it for the party in order to seem less... Slytherin, she supposed. Despite being an unusual color for her to wear, the sweater was actually quite cute. She'd tucked it into a pair of high-waisted jeans, thrown on a pair of white sneakers, slipped on a few gold rings, and it looked way dressier than she'd intended.

The Fat Lady in the portrait between her and the Gryffindors crossed her arms over her chest as she watched the girl approach. She raised an eyebrow and Y/N's eyes met her own. She felt her stomach flip as their gazes connected and she couldn't help but wonder what would happen if she didn't get in. She could feel her cheeks burning slightly, but she ignored it, shoving her hands into her back pockets instead. Thumbing at one of the seams, she managed a small smile. "Um, fortuna major," she said. Instead of swinging open like she normally would for the students, the Fat Lady stood still, staring down at her skeptically. She felt her nerves replace themselves with frustration and she lifted her eyebrows. "Well, what're you waiting for?" she asked. "That's the bloody password, isn't it?" she snarked, which probably wasn't the best way to go about the situations, but her quick temper tended to get the better of her.

The lady in the portrait rolled her eyes, before the portrait swung open, revealing a hole in the wall. This wasn't the first time she'd been in the Gryffindor common room, as Fred and George had snuck her in a handful of times before, but as she climbed through the wall, she realized it was much different than when she'd seen it last. Instead of being peppered with a couple of students, the room was full. Everyone was squashed together, cheeks tinted pink from the firewhisky as music thumped throughout the room. There were small, multicolored fireworks sizzling through the air in loops over everybody's heads and it wasn't hard to guess where they'd gotten them.

A lot of the students wore beads and crazy charmed accessories that she'd never seen before, but it brought a small smile to her face as she advanced through the crowd. "Hey, check it out," she heard someone yell off to her right, before he pulled out a party horn and blew it up towards the ceiling. Her eyes widened when it rained sparks from above and everyone erupted into cheering. She'd never seen anything like any of this when the Slytherins threw parties and she had an inkling that it was all the twins' doing.

Speaking of the twins, she realized she hadn't seen them anywhere. As she squeezed between two drunken students, she spotted Ginny, her fiery hair sticking out amongst everyone else. She was giggling and propped up against the sofa, with a glass of Ogden's in her hand, and Y/N felt a surge of relief. At least she knew someone. "Ginny!" she called, loud enough for her to hear over the commotion and the red headed girl turned towards her. Y/N watched as Ginny's face lit up with excitement and she pushed herself off of the couch, practically leaping towards her.

"Oh, Y/N!" Ginny's words came out in a slurred squeal. "I am so happy that you're here. George told me you were coming and that Fred was so excited to see you, and now, you're here!" she yelled enthusiastically, throwing her arms around Y/N as she stumbled into her.

Y/N laughed and hugged Ginny tightly in greeting, steadying the girl as she did it, and when she pulled away, she grabbed onto one of Ginny's elbows to make sure she didn't fall flat on her arse. "How many of those have you had, Gin?" she asked quietly, barely even registering the part she'd spilled about Fred. She'd been too worried trying to keep the girl upright.

Ginny's eyebrows furrowed at the question and she began to count on her fingers. Before she could give a proper answer, Fred and George popped up out of nowhere, giving Y/N a start. She clutched her chest as her heart hummed at the sound of her name. "Y/N!" they'd exclaimed at the same time and she let go of Ginny to give them a hug, but she gasped when the girl swayed. She jumped back to catch her, but George beat her to it.

"On second thought, I'm going to get this one off to bed. She's had more than enough, but I'll catch up in a bit," George hummed, prying the glass of firewhisky out of Ginny's fingers and handing it off to Y/N, who took it softly. "You two chat while I'm gone," he said, winking at the two of them, and he was off.

Y/N's eyebrows knit together at that and she turned back to look at Fred. She would've questioned the wink if he wasn't smiling so widely down at her. The same smile spread across her own lips when she took in the knitted hat that he was wearing, with two dangly bits framing his face. It was kind of cute—very cute, actually. "Glad you could make it," he told her and she laughed.

She held up her hand and gestured to the room around them. "Me, too, I've never seen anything like this. Slytherin parties are much less... explosive, I guess is the word," she said and Fred let out a soft chuckle.

He offered her a small shrug and a tilt of his head. "Might've been my idea to pass out all the fireworks."

"Somehow, I'm not surprised in the least," Y/N told him, and instead of saying anything else, Fred chugged what was left of the glass in his hand. It was only then that she noticed that his cheeks were tinged red from the alcohol, and he looked quite handsome, honestly. The flush complimented his complexion and brought out a sparkle in his pretty, brown eyes.

Y/N caught her heart fluttering in her chest at the mere sight of him and she wasted no time in downing the rest of Ginny's drink to ease her nerves. It was alcohol, so it basically killed off all of Ginny's germs, anyways. "Do you think I could get another? And maybe a new glass?" she asked, holding up her empty cup, and Fred nodded quickly.

He took the glass from her hand and set it down on one of the random tables around them, before he reached for her hand. "Sure, come with me," he hummed, just loud enough for her to hear, and her eyes darted to his fingers, which had wrapped themselves around her own. She blushed at the warmth of his hand around hers, thankful that he hadn't looked at her long enough to notice before he began to tug her through the crowd of Gryffindors. He pulled her towards a long table at the end of the room, which was cluttered with half-empty glasses and bottles of Ogden's Old. He let go of her hand gently and set his own glass on the surface. He popped the top off of one of the bottles of whiskey and refilled his cup, before he held the bottle over an empty one. He peeked up at Y/N out of the corner of his eye, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. "Say when," he said.

Then, he gave the bottle a sharp tilt and the liquid came gushing out. Y/N's face flooded with heat as she watched him. "Oh, my god, stop. Stop," she rushed out and Fred began to laugh. It filled her ears just as the alcohol filled her cup, all the way to the brim, and she looked at him with wide eyes. "What the hell, Weasley?" she asked.

Fred couldn't contain his giggles as he slid it over to her. "What? You're late, Y/L/N. You've got to catch up," he stated matter-of-factly. He picked her glass up carefully and it almost sloshed over the edge, so he brought it to his lips. Fred took a small sip out of her glass and swallowed it down with ease before he registered what he was doing. He then went to hand her glass to her and her eyebrows lifted. She looked at the glass in his hand and back up at him. "Well?" he asked, confused as to what the hold up was, but then, it clicked. "Oh, sorry, I can make you a new one if that was weird. I just figured..." he trailed off, shaking his head. He went to set it back down on the table, but she placed a hand on his forearm before he could.

Fred froze in his tracks and he looked over at her. Y/N could see the color spreading over his cheeks like wildfire and something about it made her stomach flip. She'd never seen him blush before, let alone at her hand. She swallowed her heart, which was thumping its way up her throat. "No, it's fine. I'll take that one, Freddie," she said and she reached to take it out of his grasp, her own cheeks reddening as her fingers brushed softly against his.

He straightened himself up a bit when she took the cup from him and he smiled as he watched her touch it to her mouth. "I'll give you three galleons if you drink it all in one go," he challenged, and Y/N raised her eyebrows over her cup in acceptance.

She tilted her head back and began to guzzle the amber liquid down, squeezing her eyes shut as it tasted more bitter with every gulp. She only got it around halfway down before she had to quit, pulling it away from her mouth and shaking her head as she swallowed the rest of what was in her mouth. She grimaced and a bit dribbled down her chin as she stuck out her tongue in disgust. "I can't," she said. "It's too gross," she confessed in defeat.

Fred shrugged. "To be fair, I did give you a big cup," he countered and she scoffed, sloshing the liquid around in her glass.

"Clearly," she told him.  She looked down at her cup, and then back up at him, only to realize that his gaze was locked on her lips.

Her eyebrows furrowed slightly in confusion and she watched as Fred's eyes blew wide. "Oh, no, I wasn't—" he started, before he cut himself off with a nervous laugh. He wiped his hand over his forehead sheepishly. "I mean, yeah, it would be nice to kiss you and all, but I'd like to think that'd I'd be a bit cooler about it, yeah? I wasn't going to try anything, I swear, you've just got some..." he trailed off when he realized he was spilling too much and her eyes were as wide as saucers. "You know what? I'll just get it," he blurted, and before she could do anything, he swiped his thumb sloppily over her chin, smearing away the trickle of firewhisky, and she blushed.

She blushed at the fact that he said it would be nice to kiss her, at the fact that he wanted to be cool about it, and at the fact that he touched her fucking face. Her cheeks were on fire, with her stomach warm to match, and she wasn't sure if it was Fred or the firewhisky she'd just downed. Either way, she couldn't help but gawk at him.

Fred's thumb lingered on her chin for a moment, their eyes locking in a moment of mutual mesmerization, and her lips parted softly. He was pretty. He was so goddamn pretty and she really wasn't sure where he got off. Part of her wished he would just grab her by the face with the hand that he was holding her chin with and plant one on her, but she would never, never tell him that. Before the moment could take her mind anywhere else, she blinked up at him. "Thank you," she whispered, feeling shy all of the sudden, and he pulled his hand off of her chin faster than she could even register it.

"Yeah." He flashed her an awkward smile and he nodded. "Um, I like your jumper," he hummed after a minute, clearing his throat, and her eyes widened. She glanced down at the red, knitted fabric and she tugged at it softly with a smile.

She hadn't thought it was anything too special, but it made her feel nice that he pointed it out. "Really?" she questioned, a bit of excitement playing in her voice, and she looked back up at him.

Fred nodding down at her with a grin. "Well, yeah," he stated. "Nothing says 'Slytherin betrayal' like a bright red sweater," he teased.

His words elicited a small laugh from her lips and she shook her head. He took on his signature cocky grin as he touched his glass to his lips once more. "Shut it, Weasley, I just wanted to impress you is all," she hummed.

At that, Fred almost choked on his drink. He sputtered out a small cough and his eyes widened as he looked at her. "Impress me?" he repeated.

Her cheeks flushed pink when she realized how it'd sounded. Granted, she really had put it on just to impress him, to try and fit in for him, but he didn't need to know that. The whole red sweater ordeal was embarrassing enough in itself. "No, no, I mean, not like that. I just meant 'impress you' like 'impress you all'—Gryffindor," she defended and she swore she'd need a whole muggle fire department to put out the flames under her cheeks.

Luckily, she'd worked her way out of that awkward exchange, but she and Fred endured a couple more as they continued to stand next to the drink table talking. Fred chugged the rest of his drink after a bit, and since she'd only taken a couple sips after he'd tried to get her to drink it all at once, she downed the rest of hers as well. Her cheeks had begun to feel a little warm and fuzzy with the bit of firewhisky on her system and her hands had started to feel somewhat tingly by then, but she was still very alert.

Her inhibitions were just significantly lowered.

"We should dance, Y/N/N," Fred suggested after a bit.

Y/N laughed softly at that. "Should we? I'm not really good at it," she admitted, her eyes trailing to the center of the room where the party was still very much alive.

Fred shrugged his shoulders. "You don't have to be good. We're all plastered anyways," he said and he reached for her hand. Y/N nodded, realizing that he was right. She really didn't have anything to lose by dancing in a common room that wasn't her own with people who were too drunk to even remember her in the morning. She met Fred's hand halfway and he smiled down at her gently as she slotted her fingers between his. She wasn't sure where the whole hand-holding thing had come from that night, as neither of the two were usually that touchy with each other, but she wasn't complaining. His hand was soft and warm, and she might've held it forever if she'd been given the chance.

With her hand in his, she let him lead her to the middle of the crowd of students, where a record player sat on top of a table, and he cranked up the dial. The music started to blare louder and the entire common room erupted into absolute chaos. Y/N's eyes went wide as Fred tugged her away, letting the two of them melt into the cluster of Gryffindors, and he looked at her dreamily. He lifted their hands, which were still intertwined, into the air, while he let his other settle on her waist. He straightened himself up with a smile, the balls on the end of his knitted hat bobbing around, and she shot him a look of amusement.

"A waltz?" she shouted over the noise music, which was entirely too punk rock to slow dance to, but to her surprise, Fred nodded his head. "To this?" she asked again, and instead of offering her a proper response right off the bat, he took the lead in their dance.

Y/N tilted her head forward in a laugh, but she stepped with him all the same, finding it rather amusing how their calculated movements contrasted with the jumping and aggressive dancing that everyone else was doing. "But of course," he said as he'd leaned in, muttering it into her ear, and when Fred lifted his arm up, she found herself spinning underneath it, and they were both laughing, then.

Everyone was throwing their arms around and shaking their heads around them to the fast-paced song while Fred danced with her on his own time. It might've been weird to watch, but with his hand on her waist and his eyes locked on her own, she didn't care. Every time he led her in their next step, the party around them faded further and further away, until it felt like they were the only two people left in the common room—which wasn't true by any means. She smiled brightly up at him, regardless, and a soft grin settled onto his lips to match. "You know, you look so beautiful tonight," he told her and even though it was quiet compared to the noise, she'd never heard him so clearly.

Y/N stopped dancing and the two of them stilled. "Fred," she said, her heart swelling in her chest when she noticed the way that his eyes had softened and the way they fluttered over her features. She saw a pink dust fall over his cheeks and her stomach tingled. "Really?" she asked hopefully.

He didn't hesitate in nodding. "Yeah, red is a great color on you," he complimented and her smile only widened. "It's a shame you've got to wear green all the time, but it makes sense, I guess."

She tilted her head at him and pulled her hand, which was still extended in the air, out of his. She set her arms on his shoulders and laced her fingers behind him instead. "And why's that?" she questioned.

His smile turned crooked and there was a glint in his eyes that made her nervous. He leaned in and touched his lips to the shell of her ear. "Well, I doubt any man would pass a test again if you were to wear a Gryffindor robe everyday," he said quietly and she could feel her heart pattering in her chest.

Heat rose beneath her cheeks and she turned her head away from him in an attempt to hide it. "How drunk are you, Weasley?" she laughed and she could feel him shrug beneath her arms.

He leaned his head against one of her forearms, which still rested on his shoulder. "Quite, but I mean it, really," he hummed and with all the butterflies he set loose in her stomach, she was surprised she wasn't floating off of the ground. He pressed his lips softly against the skin of her arm after a moment and she froze. "Can we step out for a second, actually? I need to talk to you about something," he explained.

Whatever it was sounded serious, like something that didn't need to be said when they were both under the influence—Fred significantly so—but the Ogden's kept her from saying no. Instead, she nodded and he slipped his head out from under her arms, slipping his hand around one of her own again. He pulled her back the way they'd came through the pool of Gryffindors and he led her into the boys dorm. He let go of her hand when they were safely inside and he gently shut the door behind them.

Y/N crossed her arms over her chest and leaned her shoulder against the wall. "What is it, Freddie?" she asked, almost afraid of what was to come.

Fred took a deep breath. "Look, I know you're not a fan of the red and gold. To be quite truthful, I'm not wild about Slytherin, either," he started and Y/N felt a tightness in her chest. What was this? She wondered if she'd done something to upset him in the time that she'd been at the party, but when he opened his mouth again, her worries dissolved. "But ever since I met you, I've thought about nothing else," he confessed.

Any negative thought was swatted from her mind and her stomach flipped. "Wait, what?" she asked, hoping she'd heard him properly.

"Yeah. You got so mad that first day, when George and I nearly blew your head off with that firework—which we're still sorry about, by the way—but you were so stunning," Fred gushed, taking a couple of steps towards her so he could take one of her hands in his. "Why do you think I never left you alone after that?" he hummed.

There was a warmth in her body, radiating up from the hand that he held, and she looked up at him with the softest of eyes. She'd never known that Fred had felt this way about her, too. She'd spent months swallowing down the urges and shutting out the thoughts, clueless to the fact that they were plaguing him, too. "Is that why?" she almost whispered, her eyes searching his. "I'm going to be honest, I didn't like either of you at first because I thought you'd made it your sole purpose to annoy me, but you idiots grew on me. And you, Fred," she paused, pulling the hand that he had wrapped around hers towards her lips so she could press a kiss to his knuckles. "I'm really glad you didn't leave me alone," she admitted.

His eyebrows quirked upwards. "I hope you're being serious, because if you're not, you're going to regret it when I pin you against that wall," he huffed, his voice throatier than it had been a moment before, and it made her heart skip a beat.

"I'm serious, Freddie. I like you."

"You'd better."

"I do," she assured him, and that was all she had to say for him to place one of his hands on her waist, slip the other behind her head, and slam her against the wall.

Fred's lips met hers in sloppy, heated kisses and she'd barely known what had hit her until she melted into him. Her eyelids fell closed and she let her hands slip beneath his hat, sliding it up off of his head and tossing it somewhere to the side. She tangled her fingers in his shaggy, red hair, and her fingers slid through it like butter. She let out a complacent hum when his hips pressed against her own and she rolled her body against his. He took that as an opportunity to hook his hands behind her knees and lift her up off of the ground. She wrapped her legs around him as his hands slid to hold onto her ass and her lips never left his.

His fingers dug into it and she whimpered softly against his lips, tilting her head in order to kiss him better, and one of his hands started to untuck her sweater. She grabbed his hand and placed it back on her ass when she started to slip down the wall, and she made the decision to pull her sweater over her head for him. "Bloody hell," Fred muttered in awe when the sweater dropped into a pool at his feet, leaving her in a lacy, dark green bra. "Couldn't go all Gryffindor for me, I see," he teased breathlessly, his eyes staring at her chest, and she laughed.

"I'm only a house traitor on the outside," she hummed with a wink that made his stomach churn. She grabbed the fabric of his t-shirt and she bunched it up in her hands, pulling it over his head as quickly as she could without having him drop her, and she tossed it down with her sweater. "Quidditch practice does you well, Weaselbee," she complimented when he was bare-chested. His torso was taut, soft lines defining his muscles, and his skin was warm against her hands.

"I'd say the same for you, but considering you don't play quidditch, I'd guess you're just naturally this hot," he rasped and she could feel her skin prickle. One of Fred's hands lifted off of her ass once more, trailing up her spine softly until it settled on the clasp of her bra. "Can I?" he whispered, his eyes meeting hers as he asked for her permission and she nodded. He unhooked her bra in one quick motion and she shimmied out of it for him, letting it fall to the floor. She could feel him still as her torso was left completely uncovered, but just as he opened his mouth to praise her, the door clicked open.

Y/N let out a gasp of surprise but Fred was quick to drop her to her feet, wrapping his arms around her in order to cover her. Her bare breasts were pressed against his naked chest and she started at the door where George Weasley gawked at them. He stared at the two of them wide-eyed, holding up a finger in silence for a second, before he erupted into laughter. "Months. Months you two go tiptoeing around each other but get the both of you sloshed and the air is cleared in an instant," he teased, running a hand through his hair.

He didn't seem to register why the two of them were half naked, just that they were and just that they were pressed against each other. Fred stared at his brother with wide eyes. "Merlin, get out, George," he blurted.

"Alright, alright." George giggled in the doorway. "As you were, lovers," he said with a wink, before he slipped away once more.

[monstersandmaw]

Sleep paralysis demon/nightmare x reader (nsfw)

Edit which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

This was begun on a Twitch writing stream, with lots of input from the chat, and while I did say I would post it straight to Tumblr, I ended up adding another 3k words to it, and a tiny bit of plot, so I figured I'd put it up on Patreon first. Since Patreon supporters voted so highly for a ‘nightmare’ on the 'next monsters' poll (thank you!), I thought it should go up there first too.

Our reader has been experiencing anxiety and insomnia lately, and this draws something to us... There's a bit at the start that's got creepy vibes to it, but the creature means us no harm. Because of the sleep paralysis element, I'm going to say watch out for non-con vibes, but nothing really happens without our consent first time round. Just putting it here in case that's a major issue for anyone.

Ft. dapper mothman landlord Reggie, and gnoll best friend too.

“You’re living where now?” Francis practically barked into his whisky as you sat together after work. The gnoll’s enormous, dish-like ears flicked forwards, dark and fuzzy and full of concern. “Seriously, you do know how shitty that part of town is, right?”

“It’s not that bad,” you growled, taking a sip of your own drink and leaning back into the soft leather back of the chair. You stifled a yawn and blinked, the exhaustion of a week’s worth of broken sleep catching up to you in one brutal rush.

Francis flicked an ear and levelled you with a flat look, dark eyes serious for once. “You’re kidding…?”

“Ok, fine, it’s not amazing, but it’s really not the worst bit of town. Anyway, it’s all I can afford right now until I find a new job.” That seemed to shut him up on the subject, at least for now. He couldn't argue with your dwindling bank balance after all.

“When’s your first interview?” he asked, raising the whisky to his lips and sipping it with surprising elegance for someone with such big hands and such a powerful jaw.

Taking a deep breath, you forced the nerves down and muttered, “Monday. I’m not prepared, but at least it’s something.” You tried not to think about the inbox full of rejection letters which, in a mere two sentences and with surgical succinctness, told you that they were not hiring, nor looking to hire, nor to take on any new staff just at the moment. Thank you for your interest.

It wasn’t interest; it was sheer bloody desperation.

“You’re not going to be at all prepared if you get mugged to death on your way home tonight,” Francis grumbled.

“It’ll be fine.”

He looked at you again and took another final drink of his whisky, long tongue lapping out the remaining dregs before he set it down with a clonk on the circle-stained table. “Please text me when you get there?”

With a solemn promise to do just that, you stood and he followed you outside into the cool evening. A scuffle of dry leaves drew your attention to your right, and the fleeting shadow of a cat projected huge along a brick wall made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Francis’ concern had got you jumping at the smallest things, and as you separated from him with a warm hug and the reiterated promise that you’d be fine, you gritted your teeth and told yourself in no uncertain terms not to flinch at the slightest sound.

To be honest, the neighbourhood honestly wasn’t that bad. There had been a few break-ins, and the police had conducted a drug raid a few streets over last month, but other than that, it was mostly just… tired. Perhaps it would be the subject of the city council’s next ‘rejuvenation’ scheme, and some commerce and life could finally be injected back into this wallowing, languishing, crumbling part of town. Still, the mothman who had let you rent one of the apartments in his old, converted town house had been very pleasant when you’d met to discuss rent, and that had gone a long way towards heartening you. Without his offer, you might not have had anywhere at all.

You tried to keep that fact in mind as you passed by the closed grocery store, the lights inside low, the neon sign flickering and drawing moths to it like supplicants to a shrine. For a moment, you caught the rapid drumbeat of footsteps behind you and tensed. In under a minute, they disappeared down a side street, and you let out a shaky breath. “Get a grip,” you breathed, reaching into one pocket for your keys all the same.

After fifteen minutes of striding at a quicker pace than was cardiovascularly comfortable, the old, slightly shabby, turn-of-the-last-century building loomed out of the gathering night. At the pedestal-base of the antique, cast-iron street lamp, a narrow pool of golden light shimmered and flickered intermittently, illuminating cracks in the pavement that seemed larger and more treacherous than they had in full daylight. Your imagination conjured black, coiling shadows creeping up from those dark cracks in the earth like smoke on a stage set, and as you paused a moment beneath it to sort your keys out, a breath of wind stippled goosebumps across the nape of your neck.

Glancing once over your shoulder, half expecting to discover someone standing silently at your back, you found nothing at all out of place, swallowed, and scuttled up the uneven garden path to the main door of the converted apartments.

No sooner had you put the key in the lock than the door rattled and swung open from the other side. Reeling away in surprise, you stumbled half a pace backwards and gasped as your eyes registered nothing but blackness inside the hallway beyond. From within the swath of darkness, two points of crimson glowed, then tilted slightly to the side, and you would have shrieked, had the entity inside not murmured your name at that exact instant in his deep baritone.

“Reginald!” you practically whimpered in relief, body going slack as you encouraged your heart rate back to normal with steadying breaths, and then huffed an embarrassed laugh. “You scared me… sorry. I’m just super jumpy this evening.”

“No, no,” the mothman purred, stepping delicately out onto the path and holding the door open for you with his lower right arm. His black fur rippled and shimmered in the soft night breezes and he buzzed his wings once. The fur around his nose was beginning to turn silver, and on his hands and around his antennae too. “I apologise. I felt you coming and I should have announced myself. How are you settling in?”

“Fine,” you croaked, equilibrium mostly recovered. The cool night wafted across your clammy skin and calmed your racing heart while you stood there making polite conversation with him until you yawned conspicuously.  

“Thank you for indulging an old moth, but I shan’t keep you up any longer. You look as though you could use some sleep,” he said, inclining his head in an old-fashioned bow, antennae dipping too and making you think of a gentleman dipping his hat at you. As you headed inside, fumbling on the wall for the light switch, you heard the distant buzz of his wings, and closed the door with a soft click as Reginald took off into the night.

The decor of the main areas of the building left a bit to be desired, with the odd peeling corner and scuff on the antique dado rail, but it was clean, which had set it well apart in the list of other apartments you'd scouted in the last month or so, and as you traipsed up the stairs to your first floor flat, the boards creaked raucously beneath your feet. No one was sneaking in or out of here without making a huge racket, and that thought provided a little comfort.

The interview on Monday loomed in your mind, ticking your resting heart rate up higher than normal, but after you went through the motions before bed with a strange sense of detachment, you let the weariness building behind the anxiety creep over your limbs and draw your eyelids down. Reginald hadn’t been wrong when he’d remarked on your appearance; it had been a while since you’d slept really well. So, it was with a familiar sense of dread that you let your mind slide away into unconsciousness, praying that the nightmares that had plagued your sleeping mind would stay away that night.

With a jolt, your eyes flew open to find the room dark, the street lamp outside extinguished, and a familiar sense of crushing dread weighing on your chest. Lying there, motionless, you breathed slowly, trying to figure out what had woken you so suddenly. Nothing stirred, and as you strained your ears, you caught no whisper of autumn leaves in the reaching branches of the walnut tree outside.

No sooner had you closed your eyes again, hoping to slide back into dreamless sleep, something touched your hair with a spider-light touch and you tried to scream and flail. Finding yourself utterly unable to move, you could only lie there as adrenaline flooded your whole body, your throat went dry, your tongue stuck to the roof of your mouth, and the sensation returned, stronger now.

Pinprick sharp claws - like a cat’s but much, much larger - raked through your hair, softly stroking your scalp, and you felt a silent scream tear itself from your chest. Something was there in the dark with you and you couldn’t move a muscle.

A shadow in the blackness of the room, a darker blur than the rest of the inky room, shifted along your bed from behind you in a coiling tendril, unfurling across the sheets and over your body like the root of a plant or the limb of an octopus, and your blood began to hammer in your ears. All you could do was lie there and gasp for breath.

Claws, long and glistening and dripping with darkness, scraped almost gently down your temple and as the entity moved into your limited field of vision, you felt another soundless yell rip itself from you. An involuntary trembling began in your limbs as a dark, black, skull-like face loomed over you, a wide maw stretching open to reveal rows of needle-sharp teeth.

You were going to die. If this was a nightmare, you’d probably be found a few days later, dead of a heart attack, and if it were real… gods above - the thought of being mugged was abruptly shunted to the bottom of your list of things to fear in this neighbourhood. The last thing you’d said to Francis was ‘I’ll be fine.’

The creature opened its mouth wider and wider as if trying to draw out your soul from your body, teeth glistening, breath completely silent, leaning in close to your face. It looked veiled, somehow, as if a wet, gauzy material had been draped over a skeletal form, which then stuck to the emaciated body beneath. With a jolt, you realised it looked like a shrouded corpse, wrapped in black fabric. The ragged shreds of material that floated eerily, slowly, as if the creature were underwater and the wisps were nothing more than kelp, and the tips constantly dissolved into fine smoke that curled lazily around the figure.

Was this Death itself?

Please… you begged silently. Please… I don’t want to die.

To your surprise, the creature tilted its terrifying head to one side in a motion that reminded you of a cat; as though it was curious.

Oh please don’t be something that toys with your prey first…

Fractionally, the entity drew back a fraction, though its four-inch long, sickle-claws remained at the side of your face. As you stared at it, wide eyed and sweating with fear, you got the fleeting impression of an emaciated torso and two equally skeletal arms beneath the floating veil.

In a moment of oddly detached clarity, you wondered if it could understand you.

It nodded.

The fuck?

That grin stretched wider. It had teeth like an angler fish, and the moment you thought that, all you could imagine was it lunging for you out of the darkness like a sprung trap, teeth sinking in, blood pouring, ending in nothing but pain and fear…

The creature nudged its clawed hand against your lips, and for a horrible moment you thought it was going to slice open the skin of your mouth, but instead, like anaesthetic wearing off, your lips began to tingle. You could move them again. Swallowing, you rasped, “Can… you understand me?”

Again, the entity nodded and retreated a little further from the bed. Like an aura of shifting mist around it, the darkness of the room rippled and moved, and you realised it really was floating beside your bed, one hand tethered to the headboard, the other near your shoulder.

“Can you speak?”

The creature paused, going still, and the air in the room thrummed with a sudden tension. Your lungs squeezed and your ribs creaked under the pressure of it.

Eventually the strain on the atmosphere snapped, and a rasping, polyphonous voice from somewhere to your right hissed, “Yes.”

Stunned, you could only lie there as it remained beside you, suspended and shifting like waterweed in a lazy current.

“What do you want?” you managed to croak. You still couldn’t move anything else but your eyes and your mouth. “Are you going to hurt me?”

Again, the air seemed to vibrate, and a chill ran through you.

“Is that you?” you asked. “Are you doing that?”

This time it took longer for the creature to make a sound, but it nodded slowly first. Its claws returned to your body and you gasped as the muscles unlocked and you found you were able to move again. Scrabbling to sit up, you blinked, and the creature twitched, lurching backwards away from you like a skittish horse.

“You can’t be… You’re afraid of me?” you blurted, almost laughing. It didn’t seem like it wanted to hurt you or scare you any more, but the surreal vision beside your bed was enough to keep your heart pounding. “Are you Death?”

Its wide maw stretched open again, revealing its mouthful of deadly teeth, and you balked, fear leaping into your throat again as you clutched the sheets around you like a child. Those claws could slice a sheet - or a body - to ribbons, and yet you clung to them.

It reached out slowly for your ankle, latching its long fingers around the joint, and you choked out a whimpering yell. Knowing you were alone in the house, with Reginald out on his nightly business and the only other apartment in the building still unoccupied, your fear crescendoed to a peak and your words failed you.

With what appeared to be a gargantuan effort, the entity paused, then inhaled, and then chorused, “Not. Death. You… fear… me…”

No shit, you thought. “What do you want?”

“Fear… is… all I… know… Without it… I am… nothing.”

Was that sadness that tinged its many voices? Was there more than just one entity within those constantly-twisting shadows?

“Just… me,” the creature murmured, half-turning away and releasing its solid grip around your leg.

The emotion in those two words made something crack inside you. “You’re lonely…” you breathed, and the creature began to tremble, glitching like a badly aligned SCART connection.

In that instant, your fear drained out of you to be replaced by a wave of compassion, and the tension left your muscles. Whatever this was, it was alone as well.

The creature’s form continued to flicker, and as you blinked in confusion, the misty veil covering them seemed to boil off, leaving nothing but the emaciated, charred-looking skeletal figure beneath, strangely vulnerable for just a heartbeat before it seemed to evaporate away altogether.

The stillness in the room left your mind reeling as you sat there. Had you dreamed the whole thing?

Scrambling, your fingers found the light switch beside the bed, and you squinted and scowled as harsh, yellow light flooded the room at the click of a button. Nothing was out of place beyond, and no hint of creeping shadows drew your eye.

“Are you still there?” you whispered, but after waiting for what felt like hours, you got no answer.

If you returned to sleep at all that night, it would be a miracle, but still you tried. Lying in the dark a good while later, and curled on your side with your eyes screwed shut, you couldn’t help straining your hearing for the slightest hiss of claws on fabric, but nothing came, and eventually, you must have drifted off into an exhausted sleep. Remarkably, no nightmares plagued you that night, and when you woke the next morning, you felt oddly peaceful and well rested for a change.  

You stretched and yawned, and only remembered about the strange experience from the night before when the soft weave of the cotton sheet snagged across your ankle and a sharp prickle made you frown.

Upon investigation, you discovered a long, thin scratch in your skin, as if a cat had nicked you with its claws in passing.

You froze.

It had not been a dream after all.

For the next two nights, nothing unusual happened, unless you counted the fact that you actually slept well for the first time in weeks. You found it almost physically impossible to make it past midnight, whereas before you’d frequently seen midnight tick by and vanish into the past as you lay there with prickling eyes and an exhausted, restless body, anxiety tingling along your nerves, counting the minutes as time ticked closer to dawn.

Astonishingly, as you faced the interviewer on Monday morning, you felt alert and almost chipper.

The naga smiled and held out a hand to you as she wrapped the interview up. “Thank you so much for your time,” she said. “You’ll hear back from us tomorrow, most likely, but let me say now that I was extremely impressed.”

Your brows rose and she laughed kindly at your evident surprise. “Thank you,” you croaked, and left politely before you ruined anything.

That night, you lay back alone on your bed after celebrating with Francis again, spread-eagled and stared at the ceiling. The old-fashioned plaster moulding made it look like you were underwater, especially if the huge tree outside swayed in the wind and cast shifting, kaleidoscope patterns on it. A cold draft prickled over you and you shivered. “Is that you?” you asked almost hopefully, wondering if the nightmare creature was back.

Nothing.

With a huge sigh, you looked around without moving, nervous in case you spooked it. “Listen, if you’re the one that’s given me such amazing sleep lately, then… well… thank you. I think I might have got the job…”

A movement in the darkest corner of the room caught your attention, but when your gaze landed on it, all was as it should be.

“Seriously, if you’re there, please… let me know.”

Again, you experienced that strange pulling sensation, like some kind of energy was being drawn from the room, and as you sat up, your bedside lamp flickered. In front of the darker form of your dressing gown on the back of the door, something had begun manifesting into a tall, slender figure. Shrouded as before in shadow, the creature glided forwards, every bit like a nightmare, and your heart thudded.

“Afraid…” came a chanting, polyphonic voice, “And yet not…? How?”

“Have you seen yourself lately?” you hissed. “You’re kind of intimidating. What are you?”

“Nightmare…” it hissed.

You blinked. “You’re a literal nightmare?”

Its claws glinted in the half-light of your small bedside lamp as it just hung there, swaying softly like a corpse on a gallows. “Yes.”

“What are you doing here? Does Reginald know you live here?”

It turned away and you saw a ribcage jutting out like a mummy’s fragile body, though every inch of them was a soft, matte black, pock marked like volcanic stone.

It shook its head. “I found you…” it croaked in its struggling, faltering voice. “Your fear… drew me… to you.”

“You vanished when I stopped being afraid,” you said and again, the creature nodded.

“I was using your fear to… manifest. Without it… I could not stay.”

“But you’re not using my fear now, are you?” you were excited, your heart was pattering out a wild rhythm, but you weren’t afraid.

It shook its head.

“How?”

Turning towards you, it brought up one lethally clawed hand and let a tendril of wisping black smoke play through its dead-looking hand. The fingers were longer than a human’s, and tipped in those sickle claws. “You sleep… better now,” it said, as if that explained everything.

Sitting there on the bed, you frowned. “Yeah, the nightmares have gone and — wait, are you… are you feeding on other nightmares?”

Slowly, the creature nodded. “I fought one that night, for you…” it rumbled. “I won. Now… they fear me.”

“And me? Do I have to fear you?”

The nightmare shook its shrouded head, the fabric wafting slowly as it billowed around the skeletal body beneath.

“So why are you here? Why me?”

“May I… come closer?” it asked.

“So long as you’re not going to hurt me,” you said in a reedy, weak voice. “A bit closer is fine…”

Hovering, the nightmare seemed uncertain, but then made up its mind and loomed a fraction nearer. This close, the glow from your lamp gilded the empty sockets of its skull and showed the stretching maw, and while you might not have been terrified any longer, it certainly made you wary.

“Will not hurt you…” the creature snarled. “I swear it.”

“Ok, fine, but you can’t blame me for being a bit… you know… I’ve never met anything like you before, and you are technically in my apartment…”

“Should I leave?”

Probably, but you found you didn’t want that just yet. “No, not yet. Can you answer some more of my questions?”

It shrugged. “I will try. Remaining here is tiring though. I don’t have much time left.”

“Where do you go?”

“There are many realms beside yours… Nightmares exist… in the cracks between, belonging nowhere, lingering only a while…”

“Sounds lonely,” you muttered.

“It is. That is why I stayed. You… You spoke to me, even when you were afraid. I have never had that before.”

The mist moved like snakes between its fingers and you watched, half mesmerised. “Your claws… are they why I couldn’t move?”

It nodded. “Sleep paralysis causes… much fear. I’m sorry I had to… frighten you to show myself.”

You snorted and pulled your legs close to sit cross legged on the bed, staring at the hovering nightmare in your room. It was so surreal, you wondered if you’d hit your head on the way home. “You tried to reassure me at the same time as scaring me shitless didn’t you?”

It flashed its claws again and swung a close to you. “Soft,” it purred, now mere inches from your face.

This close up, you found yourself frightened again. The horror of its empty black eyes, its gaping maw full of black, pointed teeth, the coiling shadows around it, its skeletal hands with tipped with onyx scythes… and yet, they smelled like the very best of winter nights; slightly smoky with a coldness that, as you inhaled, stung the back of your throat.

“Afraid, and yet not,” it repeated.

“Can I touch you?”

The nightmare clearly had not been expecting that, but nodded. Trembling, you brought your fingertip to its cheek. The skin was cool and hard like leather, but a fine mist floated around them, and you realised that the shroud wasn’t cloth at all, but intangible and made simply of smoke and shadow. The creature shuddered and you pressed your whole palm to their face as they leaned into your touch.

A moment later, they began to flicker and let out a broken moan. “I cannot stay.”

“Come back?” you whispered.

The mouth that held the promise of death, with all those teeth, suddenly smiled and they nodded. After that, they vanished.

Another week went by, but as you faced the fears of starting a new job, and the nearer that your starting date drew, the better you slept.

“It’s you again, isn’t it?” you asked the empty, black room on the night before you started work. “Come on, come out. You’ve been trying to manifest all week. I can feel it.”

Rippling out of the darkness, the nightmare swayed towards your bed and hung in the space beside it, drifting.

“Thank you,” you smiled and stood up. The nightmare didn’t move as you walked towards it, and this time when you reached for it, the creature did anticipate it, wafting closer, apparently keen for the contact. “I actually missed you, you know?” you said as the creature’s whole body quivered.

It brought its hand up to your face in a mirror of your gesture and brushed the curved back of its claws against your cheek. It tingled but you were still able to talk.

“You can touch me,” you whispered, drawing it back towards your bed by taking its skeletal fingers in yours.

Having its permission, the nightmare raked those claws through your hair with a tenderness that left you breathless. “Let me take the fear from you…” it murmured.

Examining your feelings, you discovered a small knot of anxiety about tomorrow, and smiled. “Leave me a little bit, ok? Trust me, a bit of nerves helps.”

Nodding, it leaned close and inhaled.

Standing there beside the bed, your body ignited with what could only be described as a deep and yearning lust, and you gasped, knees going weak. The nightmare caught you as you swayed, head spinning, and laid you easily down on the bed, despite the fact that it hardly looked strong enough to withstand a slight draft.

“What…?” you gasped, core burning.

The creature looked at a loss as it hung in the space beside your bed.

“I’m assuming this has never happened to you before?” you snorted, feeling a little recovered. “How lonely do I have to be to get turned on by a literal nightmare?”

A chuffing laugh made you look back at them.

“You find that funny too?” you asked and they nodded. “Well, if I’m honest… now that I know you’re not going to hurt me, I think you’re kind of beautiful.”

A soft, broken, crooning sound escaped them and they floated nearer, hovering over your bed and extending a hand to stroke talon-tips down your cheek again. “You are beautiful,” it murmured in all its numerous, whispering voices.

“Touch me,” you breathed.

“It will paralyse you,” they snarled, leaning backwards. “I can only… control it for so long.”

“But you won’t hurt me, and it’ll wear off, right?”

They nodded.

“Then touch me… please… I… I want your touch,” and you did. In a way you’d never felt with anyone else, human or otherwise, you needed them.

Rearing closer to you, the creature hung in the air above you like a cloud. It raked its claws down your body, but instead of shearing your clothes open, they simply evaporated, reappearing on the floor nearby in a tangled, crumpled heap.

“Neat trick,” you muttered before gasping as their hands landed on your bare torso, spreading their fingers wide and inhaling again. “Magic?”

“In dreams, anything is possible. We are not bound by your laws.”

“Of course not, but you’re —” you cut off sharply as they opened their mouth and a long, black tongue slithered free and coiled around your hardening nipple. You lurched and your back arched before falling back onto the bed. A tingling spread rapidly all down your right side as their hands gripped you more strongly now.

Working steadily first down one side and then the other, the nightmare scraped its teeth over you in a hundred scratching lines that made you want to yelp and buck, but their paralysis had begun to sweep over you. Every almost-bite it chased with its soothing, teasing, paralysing tongue and fingertips until you could do nothing but tremble and twitch beneath its touch.

A voice hissed, “I will know if you want me to stop,” and you let the last of your fears slide away, giving into the intense pleasure that their mouth offered on your body.

Finally, breath heaving, you felt your release crashing towards you. Never before had you been utterly immobile like this. You wanted to thrash and buck, to squirm and writhe - the pleasure was so intense and visceral that you needed to scream, but the nightmare held you in its grasp and wrung your release from you with relentless focus. Before you could recover fully, it demanded a second orgasm hot on the heels of the first and you thought you might shear apart with the force of it.

Gasping for breath, you begged silently to be allowed to move again, and as it sat back, that long, clever tongue lapping up the last of your release, it touched you once again and your body went slack.

“Oh my god,” you panted. “I’ve never come like that…”

“Your… energy,” they whispered, touching their fingers and thumb together as if their skin was tingling too. Something cool and dark slid over your leg and you looked down to find black liquid dripping from their robes, all over your legs from where they were hovering above you.

You had to laugh. “Don’t tell me you’re switching careers to an incubus now?”

The nightmare looked at you. “It’s just you,” they said. “I want only you.”

“If you’re going to make me come like that, I think we could come to an arrangement…”

The creature grinned, showing all its deadly teeth, and you lay back and stared at the ceiling for a long time, drained and tired but deeply satisfied. You didn’t even notice yourself sliding into a blissful sleep.

When you woke with your alarm the next morning, there was no trace of the creature, but on the back of the door as you were preparing to leave, you found the words ‘good luck’ scraped into the surface of the wood.

“You’d better come back and fix that tonight,” you grumbled with a smile on your face as you spotted it. Even as you stared at it, the wood melted back into the shape it had always been before, and in its place, a simple, line-drawn heart appeared.

You snorted. “See you later,” you said as you grabbed your coat and headed out. “And… well… thank you.”

___

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[punkpresentmic]

Traitor Aizawa AU Pt. 3 — 1, 2:

Shouta ran away in the middle of the night. When Hizashi woke up, it was to an empty bed, to fists pounding at their shared suite, to UA in lockdown. Hizashi was immediately forced outside & taken in for questioning.

Shouta had left Nezu a resignation letter, in his own unmistakable handwriting. It's blunt, concise, & it contains detailed descriptions & evidence of his betrayal. It makes no excuses for his actions & it does not discuss his motivations.

When Shouta visits that night weeks upon weeks later, he says nothing of the letter & nothing of his motivations. Shouta is silent as Hizashi sobs, dutifully keeping his Quirk erased as asked. It's been a pressure building on Hizashi for far too long, so when the dam breaks, there's no stopping it. It's an unwelcome but necessary catharsis—one he needs because of Shouta, one he can have because of him. Hizashi cries himself to sleep in his husband's arms.

& in the morning, again, he wakes up alone. It could have been a dream, but this time there's a note on his nightstand. It's painfully simple, the script rushed: I'm sorry I couldn't be here when you wake up. I'm sorry it has to be like this. I want to talk with you soon. I love you, Hizashi.

He should report this. Shouta betrayed UA, he's a wanted villain, & he expressed interest in taking Eri. Hizashi should turn in the letter.

Hizashi makes himself a coffee, & he sets the letter in front of him, & he stares at it blankly while the Sun rises slowly outside. The moment the light hits it, it's like the decision has made itself. Hizashi puts the letter through their paper shredder, tucks the pieces into his pocket, buys a muffin at a coffee shop, & throws half of them away in his napkin in one trash can, half of them in another down the road. He doesn’t tell a soul. Not Nemuri. Not Eri. Not Nezu.

He has to see Shouta again.

It’s two weeks before there’s another Shouta sighting. One day Hizashi comes home & senses the difference immediately. &, oddly, it's not a bad different. He knows exactly what it means. So, he takes off his gear in the entryway. Locks the door. Takes a few calming breaths before he calls into the apartment: “Honey, I’m home.”

He steps into the bedroom. Sure enough, Shouta is sitting on the bed.

Hizashi stops. He looks like shit. Exhausted, face sallow like he hasn’t been eating, eyes red & irritated like he hasn’t been using his eye drops. It occurs to Hizashi that his prescription probably ran out. He can remember the last time he picked up a bottle from the pharmacy; he’d teased Shouta about his 'special eyes' that regular eye drops don’t work on. “How did you know I was here.” His voice is rough too. Hizashi wants to offer him water, a meal, something. He hovers in the doorway.

“I’ve felt your absence since you left. Of course I know when it’s changed.”

Shouta says nothing. Hizashi relents slightly, asks him if he’s eaten. As expected, he gets a shake of the head. Hizashi turns on a heel, brings the both of them tea & leftover takeout. Shouta scrunches his eyebrows in confusion when Hizashi hands him what’s always Shouta’s order. Hizashi shrugs, nonchalant as if he didn’t take up ordering it after Shouta left. Shouta opens his mouth to speak, but Hizashi holds up a hand. “Eat.”

& they do, in silence. Shouta is positively ravenous. Hizashi has so many questions. So many questions. But he shares this strange meal with his husband, wordlessly offering Shouta what he doesn’t finish as well. Finally, Shouta clears his throat. “You didn’t tell anybody about me.”

Hizashi doesn’t have it in him to glare—to make any expression, really. It’s all very… heavy. Fragile. Ephemeral. Breakable. Dangerous. Wrong. Hizashi purses his lips. “You’ve got some ‘splainin’ to do.”

He winces. "Hizashi, I wish I could tell you everything, but I can't."

Hizashi swallows the emotions that rise like bile in his throat, a potent mixture of fury & nausea. He has little control of what falls from his mouth. “You know, somebody referred to you as my ex the other day.”

Shouta’s expression is pained. He shakes his head & pulls his wedding ring out from its necklace tucked away as always in his ratty costume. Hizashi almost laughs. When Shouta commits to something, he commits fully, with his whole chest. It’s why so much of this doesn’t make any goddamn sense. It all threatens to choke him, but he laughs around the lump in his throat & shakes his head too, taking Shouta’s hand & squeezing hard to imprint the indent of the ring he put there into his palm. “It’s just not right, man.”

This time, Hizashi takes a page from Shouta’s book & bumps their foreheads together like a cat. Hizashi offers a watery smile. Shouta lets his eyes fall closed, inhales deeply. “I know it was too much to ask in my letter for you to believe that I'm still the person you believe me to be, but…” Hizashi freezes and pulls back, causing him to trail off.

“Shouta… what are you talking about?”

A flash of confusion, then fear crosses Shouta’s face. “The first letter I wrote to you. When I… When I left.” Shouta’s eyes search his for any sign of recognition, clearly troubled when he finds none. “I wrote everyone in my class letters. & Nezu. & Kayama. Hell, even Yagi—do you really think I wouldn’t face you of all—”

“—Shouta. None of those people received letters. Besides Nezu. I read your… resignation letter. Saw the evidence you laid out so logically for him. But I…” Hizashi’s blood suddenly grows cold. “Shou, the police took me down to the station that morning & searched the apartment. I didn’t think they took anything.” His breathing picks up. “They never told me anything about a letter—”

Shouta is barely breathing. Finally, after a long pause he swallows. “Nezu. Nezu must have found his first & arranged for a search & seizure. He would have extrapolated there were more.” He wipes a weary hand down his face, shaking his head. “You never… None of the students…” He covers his eyes, which must be aching. Hizashi has never been hesitant to offer physical reassurance to Shouta Aizawa, but he hesitates here & hates that he does. He pulls Shouta close with an arm over the shoulders.

“It’s alright,” he lies. Shouta knows. “We can talk now.”

So Shouta reiterates what was in the letter: what he’s done, how he loves him, how he wouldn't leave or do this without him if he had a choice, how he intends to return when this is settled, how in the meantime he would trust nobody else to watch over his students & Eri, how he needs Hizashi to trust that he is who Hizashi knows him to be.

“How am I supposed to be certain of that?” Hizashi whispers when he’s done.

It hurts him, Hizashi can see that. But all of this hurts. “I don’t know how to answer that.” They’re still holding hands. “But I want to,” he adds. “I want to prove it to you.”

“I want that too.”

There’s a tension in the air as they hover, faces close, uncertain if it would be okay to kiss each other. They think better of it, pull back with small sighs.

Instead, they discuss Eri. Shouta has been watching from afar when he can safely. He knew how she was struggling with her Quirk. He saw the doctor visits that hadn’t improved anything. He wanted to help. He also knew that he couldn’t sneak into UA forever, that the instant UA caught wind of it security would render it impossible & arrange for his capture. But if she’s with him, he can still help.

Hizashi shakes his head. “Shou, wherever you’ve been, it’s nowhere fit for a child. Your Quirk helps her, but her support network is here at UA. You were part of that network. & now you’re not. She is not leaving UA.”

Shouta shrinks, & after a moment he nods. He was always one to listen to reason. Hizashi, again, has to relent. As far as he can tell, Shouta only wants what’s best for her & it’s killing him not to be able to participate in that. So Hizashi elbows him lightly & pulls up pictures on his phone of all Eri has been up to lately, some of the students also making appearances. He leans Shouta onto his shoulder. It’s a tender moment. Almost normal. But all too soon it has to end. It’s not safe for Shouta to stay the night & there’s a certain window of time he has to catch to slip past security.

Shouta says he’ll return. He squeezes Hizashi’s hand as he goes to the window—the hand with his ring on it. Promises.

(pt. 4)