#like enjoy the process of loving and being loved back and vi's just like fuCK YEAH LETS FUCKING GO LOL

[shouyuus]

>“college roommate!vi who goes real quiet the first time you laugh in her presence, a real laugh, not one of those ha-ha ones you snipe at her when she's trying to get a rise out of you, or teasing you about spending all your time in the library, but one that shakes your shoulders and makes your whole face light up.”

inserts that one reaction image with the badly drawn figure head in hands blushing. ahem anyways i’ve been going through your collage roommate stuff again because it’s so lovely i love rereading it!!! your hc stuff is so nice

i feel like just. lovergirl!vi is so real in every universe right like no matter what, she loves so hard and with her whole entire fucking chest. like.

the first time she feels that tingle in her stomach, she kinda knows is already a bit too late. bc like PHEW there's only DOWN from here like she's finna SPIRAL and she KNOWS it.

all rise for simp!vi truthers!!!!

[guiltycorp]

Damn i really want to know tf happened in the writing room of arcane s2. Some of the downgrades were inevitable due to the show's corporate limitations (not being able to progress the class war story in a meaningful way, having to tie things back to league of legends in terms of making playable characters more appealing to well, play... rip Mel and Viktor in particular), sure. But i still feel like it's even worse than that? There are so many bad decisions that i couldn't even start listing them all... the characters, plot, pacing, themes, it's just such a mess? Even the dialogue writing, it feels much more mm Marvel at its worst i suppose. What i am most bothered by is probably just the straight up harmful messaging so um... Cycles of violence and abuse can be broken by individual decisions to become a better person! Got nothing to do with systemic oppression, living conditions, mental health issues, you can just conveniently ignore aaall the social context, live laugh love and then things get better automatically yep, oppressors famously stop oppressing you when you show them that you're harmless and won't put up a fight anymore. Literally three out of three suicidal characters dying to redeem themselves? Not even in a tragic/cathartic way but in a bittersweet 'they finally atoned for their mistakes' way? Groundbreaking lmao. Romantic relationship between Vi and Caitlyn including no communication about their biggest fight, just conveniently skipping to sex and getting back together - would have loved that if it was framed as the unhealthy fucked up thing that it is, skipping over Vi's hurt and her background to once again become a cop, her girlfriend's direct underling at that (!) due to her not having any other support systems... But nope that was our cute lesbian romance wrapped up, a good thing all around, not concerning at all. Jayce telling Viktor that what he 'always admired about him' was his disability and his deadly disease (??? from a character who spent the whole s1 and first act of s2 desperately trying to help Viktor find a cure? sure) and that those imperfections don't need fixing, just wtf truly. Magic bullshit was also weird, some implications of 'natural magic is ok, but achieving that power through other means corrupts you into a crazy robot bitch or just wilts your trees i guess', but tbh it was written in such a weird and inconsistent way that we can skip this one... Yeah actually a lot of things were just such a mess that I feel silly pointing to specific moments or lines I didn't like, I mean duh, it barely makes sense as a story at all... I am happy we have s1 which comparatively was a masterpiece, and i also really enjoyed s2 act1, i truly believed it would lead somewhere good at the time, my mind still kind of cuts off the story at that point when i think about it, that WAS the open ending of the show to me (is it possible that there were rewrites? targeting act 2 and 3? idk, wishful thinking perhaps). Despite my extremely negative feelings about this season's conclusion i remain glad that so many people appreciate the show regardless, it is clear that there was STILL a lot of love in the process of its creation (although i'd argue that even some of the visual aspects of the show suffered in quality, once again i have to wonder about behind the scenes mood of it all) and i get very upset when i see creatives online despairing over reception of their projects even when i'm absolutely in the disgruntled crowd hahaha... ...however yeah, this wasn't great In a world that increasingly grows more and more right-wing politically... we really needed something different i think.

[pxgeturner]

Miguel O'Hara is a world-renowned professional boxer, and Hobie's other best friend. One night he finally makes the two worlds collide and sparks immediately fly between the two of you. But will he distract you from meeting your publisher's deadline? And will you distract him from getting World Champ?

before you follow. m.list. Iron Fist gfx library. series m.list. tag list.

Prologue. I. II. III. IV. V. VI. VII. VIII. IX. X. Epilogue.

wc. 1.5k

an. hi. its me! Giselle, or gi, or gigi to few (not to be confused w gg, that is one of my moots. she makes really cool art.) n e ways here is the awaited Prologue for Iron Fist. Oh goodness I'm so nervous. I just want to make a few things clear. the reader is an author (obvs). She's recently graduated uni and is Latina! I write with a woc!r in mind always. I try to be as inclusive as possible, pero porque soy Mexicana, r might lean towards being more Mexican but I'll try to keep her Spanish standard and not be too specific to my family's culture. much love! hope you enjoy <3

please don't forget to reblog! likes do nothing to boost engagement.

Your foot taps against the floor. The damn blank document stares back at you. Mocking you is what it’s really doing. Fuck you, you think, I achieved my goal. I published a book and it is a damn bestseller! Only problem is that the readers want more. It’s been… some time since your first book. And sure, Jess said you can take a break before starting a new project. But you also know that it’s good to ride on existing publicity. At least be able to make an announcement that you’re writing something while all this excitement lasts. Maybe you should write something about vampires. You love vampires and how they fit into romance and how them drinking blood is a euphemism just a bit away from, the whole cannibalism-equals-all-consuming-love trope and how when a vampire attacks it’s often an allegory for rape and— but you have nothing to add to the conversation. You have nothing new to say, no new perspective or hot take, or twist. You have nothing. No ideas.

Not a single word on the page.

You have an idea, leaning forward to peck the keyboard. “F-u-c-k. T-h-i-s!” You highlight the text and italicize it.

Fuck this. At least it’s words on the page.

You reach for your cup and take a sip. “If all else fails I can ride on the rest of the signing bonus and royalties for a bit since the book is doing good, and once that dries up, I can apply to be circulation assistant at a library or something.” You sigh and take another sip. “But nobody has to know for now.” You get up, searching for your phone. You find it resting on the arm of the couch, you grab it, sliding onto the cushions, resting your head where your phone just was. “God, don’t make me a one hit wonder, I wanna be a star. I wanna be the one to push that bitch Colleen Hoover into obsoletion. Please God. Please.”

You open your phone and look for your mother on speed dial.

“Hola, nena!” Your mama’s voice is happy, she must be having a good day. You move into the kitchen. You need a snack.

“Hey, mama, how are you?” You hold the cell with your shoulder as you look through your pantry.

“Good, good,” you find a pack of roasted seaweed snacks and grab it.

“I went on a date anoche.” Your shoulder drops and the pack of seaweed slips out of your grasp.

Mi mami fue a una cita. Con un man! You stand there, trying to process that she is actually back on the dating scene.

“How did it—” you aren’t holding your phone anymore. You use the wall as support to lower yourself to pick up your phone and snack.

“—ay, mami, lo siento, mi cellular se cayo de mi mano.”

“Todo bien, hija! I’m glad you’re ok.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m ok, I’m ok. Anyways— how was the date? What’s he like? Am I going to have a stepfather soon?” you joke.

“My time for marriage is gone, muñeca, I’m just looking for companionship, pero, tu lo sabes.” You hear some subtle clinking in the background of the call, she must be stirring her coffee. You open your snack and park yourself on the couch. “Are you writing?” Ugh. Not you, too.

“I was, just finished for a bit before I called you.”

“You called me to procrastinate.” You choke on your seaweed from the accusation.

You clear your throat, “I called to check in with you. I call you practically every day.”

“But right now you called me to check up on me as an excuse to not write. Nena, I know you.”

“Okay, fine. I might be having some writer’s block,” you admit, sighing.

“And that’s okay, nena, but then you need to get out, get some inspiration. Allow the world to give you a story.” There’s mama, with her easier-said-than-done advice. But, maybe you should get out of the house.

“Alright, I’ll go out soon.”

“Tonight,”

“—I will go out to the Chinese place across the street and nothing more. I’ll talk with Hobie when he gets back to see if he has any ideas.” You hear your mama make a noise in her throat.

“You still live with that boy?” Here it comes. You’ve lived with Hobie Brown for three years and have known him for five. She’s always been apprehensive of him, since he’s radical and looks like he’s been in jail, with all the metal in his face, and why does his hair look like that? But Hobie is the one who’s kept you sane all these years. He’s held you while you cried and pushed out of your comfort zone when you were getting too stuck into your routines, most likely by dragging you to a concert or a protest. You help him thrift and flip clothes and ever since that one time his stylist had an emergency and canceled, you now help him tighten his wicks every so often. On days like that the two of you stay in, watching nostalgic movies and listening to any demos he’s recorded recently. He’s like a brother to you at this point.

“Yes, mama, I still live with Hobie. Nothing’s changed.” You move the phone down to your chest and take a deep breath.

“I didn’t like him when I first met him,” you clench your jaw as she continues— “…and although he’s one of those kids, I can tell he is a good boy. I’m glad he takes care of you.” You relax. “But it wouldn’t hurt to have someone you could kiss.” “It would be nice, but right now it’s not happening.” “Alright, muñeca. I’ll leave you alone for now, but keep your eyes open for a nice man.”

“I will, con cuidado, mami, besitos.” You make a kissing noise into the phone, and she responds with a goodbye of her own, and you wait for her to hang up the call.

You sigh, and look at the coffee table. Hobie left his song book at home, weird. It’s open to the song he was working on the other day. It’s a slower song, you can still hear the melody. You drum your fingers to the tune. He’s on an unfinished verse. You pick up a pen from the little catch-all dish and scribble down a line or two.

…

Hobie weaves through the roar of chattering, anticipating fans and into the tunnel, and walks past employees and into Miguel's prep room to see him tying his shoes. “Hey,” Miguel looks up. “Hey.”

“Are you excited?” He moves to sit by the boxer, shimmying up against his shoulder.

“Haven’t really been excited for one of these in a while.” Miguel breathes.

“Well, one step closer to retirement!” Hobie bounces out of his seat. He turns to face his friend, putting a hand on his shoulder. “You’re gonna do great, you big fuckin’ bear of a man.” He ruffle’s Miguel’s hair.

Miguel gives a half-ass hum in response.

“Well then, I’ll be out there, mate, cheerin’ you on.” He puts his hands in his vest pockets and walks out the room.

As he reaches the empty doorframe, Miguel speaks up. “Thank you, Hobie.”

“Anything for you, mate.” Hobie nods and goes to join the audience. Miguel fastens his gloves and puts on his robe. He warms up waiting for his coach.

“Ready, O’Hara?”

Miguel turns around. “Always ready for a fight.” He clenches his jaw. Walking down that hallway, the festive colors lighting up his path and the music blaring, he does his little bit, the movements molded into muscle memory.

This is it. This is his last year fighting. If he gets world champ again, he’s free.

Soon, he gets to fight his last fight. And dammit, the world championship will be his last match. Then, he’s never gonna have to come back.

He weaves under the ropes, entering the ring. Sitting on the stool, he shrugs off the robe and lets Carlos put the mouthguard in.

“You are going to show this guy exactly why people call you el oso!” Miguel beats his gloves together and nods. He might not like his job right now, but he really wants to hit something and goddammit if his opponent doesn’t look so beatable right now.

Coach Carlos steps out of the way, and Miguel stands to walk to the ref as he calls for him to center.

“We went over the rules in the dressing room.” Right before Hobie got here. “I want to remind you to protect yourself at all times, and obey my commands.” Ring the damn bell already. “God bless you both,” I don’t need it but this kid might. “Touch up,” here we go. He touches gloves with his newbie opponent and each goes back to their respective corners.

Miguel takes an orthodox stance.

The bell rings.

Miguel lands the first punch. He also lands the last.

[flameassassinqueen]

*Onyx storm spoilers ahead* for violet and Xaden

Alright here it is. I finished this book in a little under 12 hours of getting it in my hand. And let's just say it was a fucking Rollercoaster of emotions. But I loved it. I really liked Iron flame as well. But this one was amazing. I know we all have mixed feelings about the ending. I honestly really enjoyed it. So here are some of my thoughts now that I have had time to process.

1. Xaden is the fucking best and I simp for him. But i don't like how he keeps foreshadowing his death. Him turning Vennin i saw coming. Honestly every time he channled I was yelling at him. But, how he was for violet this book made my heart ache. He loves her so much. He would do anything for her. Xaden, also needs to beat the shit out of Halden. If he can't i will take Violet doing it herself. I knew he would eventually leave too. What got me though was all the planning he did to ensure that violet and Tyrrendor would be taken care off. The man literally left his heart behind. Marrying Violet i saw from the moment he said "she would make a wonderful duchess" he was going to put a ring on that finger at some point. I just didn't realize it would happen in this book.

2. Violet the women you are. I love Violet and i don't get why people hate on her as much as they do. Violet is still learning to navigate the world and you can definitely see that but now she is stepping into a much bigger role. Now she will need to lead people. ThankfuIly Breannan is there and hopefully Mira will help violet as well. Plus she has the squad and all the marked one on her side. One thing, I need her to stop being so damn self sacrificing. She needs to be more confident in her choices and ability. I'm happy xaden took a step back this book and let her lead and command. It really showed how ruthless and cunning she can be. That she is kind but can put people in their fucking place. So here is my hope for the next book. She better not! Turn into Bella and shut down cause Xaden isn't there!!!!! I accept her taking a few days to really get through her feelings of him leaving. But I want her to command and fight . For her to look for him and save him!!! Also, everything that was going on with Asher Sorrengail was insane. But i need a explanation on if Vi is Vennin or Dunnes. Did dad give her to the Temple to save her life? Or stopping her from turning Vennin????

[builtbybrokenbells]

Spitfire | vi

Rumours spread around the internet, causing turmoil like never before. In a desperate attempt to forget,y/n takes solace in the bar, making it a mission to forget him completely. Jake is left wondering if he’ll ever get a chance to explain himself. When her roommates try to do damage control, they’re left wondering if the Twitter feed and speculation is really the biggest issue, or her way of covering up her crippling fear of falling in love.

Read part five here

Read part seven here

Pairing: jake kiszka x f!reader

Word count: 7.5k

Warnings: cheating/cheating rumours, Twitter, binge drinking, unhealthy coping mechanisms, lots of angst, crying, like a 2 second mention of throwing up (very short because i hate throwing up with a violent passion), basically this whole chapter is an angsty shitshow because I live for drama, sorry if I missed any!

so obvi i had to throw in some heartbreak to offset all the fluffy happiness, cause that’s just who i am. lots of projection in this one (hey, at least I’m owning up to my flaws) but this is just an angsty mess before we get to a happy ending cause I wanted to showcase how detrimental the internet/social media can be and how bad ldr sucks 😁 as always, enjoy, be kind, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes 🫶🏻 (also thank you all so much for the love on this series. im having a lot of fun writing it and it overjoys me to see that other people like it, too)

~

Your feet carried you to the living room, speed faster than you’d ever ran before. When you turned the corner of the hallway, your footing slipped and you had to brace yourself on the wall. Eve was sprawled on the couch. She looked to you, eyes wide with panic, scared that something bad happened. “What has got you all riled up?” She threw her phone beside her, sitting upright.

“I-I, uh, I just…” you were breathless, heart pounding in your chest as you tried to formulate your words. “The… t-the-“

“Just fucking spit it out!” She laughed, clearly understanding that your rapid approach was due to good news rather than bad.

“Okay, sorry.” You ran your hand through your hair, pushing it away from your face. “I think I’m gonna throw up.” You laughed, fanning your face with your hands. Tears were threatening to spill over, and your skin was prickling with excitement. “So I started my internship on Monday, right?”

“Yeah, I know.” She said, waiting for an explanation.

“And I met everyone in the ‘office’.” You air-quoted office, knowing you’d only interact with them over zoom meetings for the four month duration. “But I met the head of the department today, the big boss.” She gave an eager nod. “He told me that he read over my research report. He said it was one of the best he’s ever read.”

“No way!” Eve was standing now, bouncing with just as much enthusiasm.

“Yeah, but that’s not it.” You stopped her. “I mean yeah, that’s fantastic, but it’s way better than that.” You felt the tears begin to roll down your cheeks, too caught up in the situation to care. “He wants to continue on with it. He told me he thinks the idea is fantastic and worth the money. I’m not going to be working on, or following up somebody else’s research this summer. They want to work on mine.” Her eyes were wide, her previous demeanour completely frozen. After a few seconds, she exploded into a scream and engulfed you into a hug. You held on to her, wanting to yell just as badly. “Can you punch me? Just to make sure I’m not dreaming?”

She pulled back, shaking her head and wiping your tears away. “Not a dream.” She laughed, pulling you in for another embrace. “Y/n, they picked your topic from an undergraduate, not even a masters or a PhD. Do you know how huge that is?”

“I know! He told me he’s been waiting to work with me since the end of my first year. Apparently I’m the at the top of the program.” You were almost lightheaded, not being able to process what was happening.

“I’m so proud of you.” She said, taking your hands into hers. She gave them a squeeze, bringing you back to reality. “Did you tell anyone else?” You shook your head.

“No, I was going to text the sibling group chat and get it all over at once. I want to call Jake, but I’m just not sure if he’s busy or not.” You explained.

“Call him! If he’s busy, he won’t answer. I think this is way too important to wait to tell him.” She encouraged you.

“Yeah, you’re right. I’m gonna… I’ll go call him.” You breathed.

“Okay, but I’m taking you to dinner tonight to celebrate. We’ll go to The Garden, maybe get some drinks afterwards. It is Friday, after all.”

“Yeah, that sounds amazing. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” You assured her.

“Good, now go call your loverboy.” She shooed you away. You jogged back to your room, letting the door fall shut behind you.

It had been almost two weeks since Jake left, meaning that your trip to Atlanta was right around the corner. Your brothers left the week prior, leaving your home quieter than you liked it. It was amazing having everyone there, but it was terrible when they all had to leave. You were adjusting, though, and knowing you were going to see Jake in a few days was really helping.

You slipped on the hoodie he’d so graciously left for you, and found the bottle of cologne, giving the front a small spritz. The smell immediately swarmed your senses, making you close your eyes in bliss. When your end of day meetings came to a close, you practically lived in his sweater. Him being gone this time was a little easier now that you had small reminders of him. You pulled your phone out, dialling his number off by heart. Your hands were vibrating as you clicked the speakerphone button. The dial tone rang a few times, but you couldn’t help but hope he’d pick up. You tapped your fingers on the wood of your desk, trying to remember if he told you he had a show or an interview that day.

“Hey, it’s Jake. Leave a message.” Your stomach sank with disappointment, but you didn’t let it last too long.

“Hey, rockstar. Big news, call me as soon as you can. Love you.” You didn’t let the voicemail linger, ending the call as soon as you finished speaking. As you stared at the screen of your phone, you realized you hadn’t heard from Jake since the night before. It was very strange of him not to send a good morning text, but you were so busy with work meetings all day you hadn’t picked up your phone at all.

You debated calling again, but decided against it. Instead, you went to your contact list and clicked on Josh’s name. You were expecting the same empty tone, but you were surprised when he answered after the first ring. “Hey, mama.” His usually happy tone was so comfortably familiar.

“Hey, Josh.” You couldn’t help but smile. Josh had rapidly become another brother to you, just the same as Sam and Danny.

“What could I have possibly done to deserve a call from such an angel?” You rolled your eyes, a laugh making its way out. Josh was a very verbal person, and extremely friendly, too. At first, you were a bit thrown off by his strong compliments, but you’d gotten over it quite quickly once you realized Jake never batted an eye about it. Clearly there was a lot of mutual trust between the two.

“Just missed your sweet voice, is all.” You joked. He let out a small chuckle.

“You’re too kind,” he said “but really, what’s up? Usually I’m the one calling you.”

“Don’t say it like that, that makes me sound like an asshole.” You replied.

“You know what I mean.” You could practically hear his eye roll through the phone.

“I know,” you assured him. “I was just calling to see if you knew where Jake was. I haven’t heard from him all day and I got some pretty big news. I called to tell him and he didn’t answer. I thought maybe you were all doing rockstar stuff, but it seems like you were waiting around for someone to call you.” You teased.

“Maybe I just drop everything to talk to you. Have you thought about that?”

“Whatever you say, Joshua.”

“To answer your question, I have no idea where he is. Today is kind of a day off, I guess. We’ve got a meeting tonight, but that’s more of us just hanging out with the managers.”

“Oh, that’s weird, then.” You said, uneasiness sprouting in your stomach.

“He could be asleep, or in music writing mode. I’ll get to the bottom of it for you.” He promised.

“Thanks, super-sleuth.” You laughed.

“What’s your big news?” Josh asked, changing the subject. You didn’t think the topic change was suspicious, more or less just Josh being nosy.

“I don’t know if Jake would forgive me if I told you first.” You were being honest. Jake wanted to be your biggest supporter, and you didn’t know if you telling Josh first would cause any issues. The last thing you wanted to do was hurt him.

“Ah, come on, mama. He didn’t answer, so it’s his loss. Besides, we’re practically the same person. Same DNA and all, you know?”

“I don’t think that makes you the same person, honey.” You giggled. “I think you just want to know.”

“Duh,” he scoffed “I won’t tell him, I promise. I’m really good with secrets.” Somehow, you weren’t sure if you believed him. But you were so excited about your accomplishment that you were itching to tell anyone who was willing to listen.

“Fine, okay, but promise you won’t say anything.”

“I won’t, I swear!” You could hear the giddiness in his voice.

“Okay, I’ll hold you to it, then.” You told him. “Basically, I started my summer internship with the biotechnology society this week. Today I met the head of the department and he told me he’s been wanting to work with me for a long time. He read my report about non-invasive blood-glucose tests and he wants to take it a step further. He thinks it’s worth the time and money.” You rushed out, feeling the excitement take over again.

“Y/n, that is fantastic!” He said. You could feel his smile in his words. One thing you adored about the four boys is that they all seemed incredibly genuine.

“Thank you, Josh. It’s super cool. Usually they only study graduate topics, but I guess he thinks I have what it takes.” You breathed, barely believing your own words.

“You absolutely have what it takes, mama, and Jake is going to be over the moon when you tell him.” You felt a smile break out on your lips.

“Thank you.” You really meant it. Jake and his brothers were always seemed so proud of you, and it made you feel so important. “I can’t wait to see you guys this weekend.”

“We’re really looking forward to it, too. Jake’s been so uptight when we practice because he wants to impress you at the show. It’s starting to get unbearable.” You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head in disbelief as if he could see you.

“I’m going to be the biggest fan there, even if he forgets how to play every song.”

“I know that, y/n. He just wants to show off for you. I, on the other hand, don’t have to practice. I already know I’ll win you over.” You rolled your eyes.

“Uh-huh,”

“Oh come on, what’s the matter with a little brotherly competition?” He joked.

“It seems more like a pissing contest.” You said. “Well, as nice as it’s been talking to you, I must go call my own brothers and tell them the news. They’ll be really upset if they find out I told you, first.”

“Like I said, my lips are sealed.” He promised. “I’m really happy for you, y/n.” His earlier tone of humour was gone, replaced with sincerity.

“Thank you, and thanks for picking up.” You said.

“As if I’d ignore you. I’ll find out what’s up with Jake and let you know. Talk soon?”

“Of course. Talk to you later, Josh.” You bid your goodbye. He hung up first, leaving you staring at the blank screen. Worry started to consume you, unsure of what Jake could be up to. The radio silence was extremely strange.

Before calling your own siblings, you decided to jump in the shower. You connected to your Bluetooth speaker, playing music softly in the background as you undressed and turned the faucet on. You climbed in, humming softly to the first song that came up on shuffle. You washed your hair and worked at getting all of the knots out. You took your time washing your body, letting the hot water sooth your stiffness from sitting in an office chair all day. You even took the time to exfoliate and shave. When you stepped out, you felt like a new person. You dried off, wrapping your hair in a towel, and throwing on an oversized t-shit and some sweatpants.

You went back to your room and threw your old clothes in your laundry basket. As you sat on the edge of your bed, your phone chimed from beside you. Your eyes fell on the screen, trying to make out who the message was from. Josh’s name was showing in the notification bar, so you picked it up to read what he said.

Twin Rockstar

Hey, checked on Jake. Don’t think he’s in his room. Will let you know when I find him :)

You typed a quick reply before clicking on your brothers contact. You figured you shouldn’t put off telling them the news any longer, and Sam would be the most likely to answer. You told him you needed him to call you ASAP, throwing your phone back on the mattress. You got up, moving to the closet and scouring through your heaps of clothes. Your hands settled on a simple red dress. Enough to look classy, but not enough to catch too much attention. You threw it on, spritzing some perfume and throwing on some deodorant. As you took your hair down to dry, you started on your makeup. You didn’t put on too much, just enough to accentuate your features.

You finished with swiping on the same lipstick you’d worn the night you met Jake. It was your favourite one before that night, but ever since it had caught his attention, it was the only one you liked to wear. Just as you were finishing up, your phone began to ring. You shuffled over, grabbing it off the mattress and accepting the video call. “Hello, Samuel.” You said, looking over his face.

“So you saw it, too?” He asked, forgoing any type of greeting. You raised an eyebrow, confused at what he could be talking about. He watched you carefully, quickly realizing that you did not want to call him for the same reason. “Oh, nothing.” He said, sheepishly. Your eyes hardened, not willing to play the game with him. He’d always done that; start a sentence or a story and try to change topics. Usually it was only when something bad happened. He hated giving bad news.

“What, Sam?” You pried, waiting for him to give in.

“Nothing, y/n. It was probably just a rumour anyway.”

“Just tell me, please.” You sighed. He shifted uncomfortably under your stare, but eventually conceded.

“I saw something. It’s probably nothing, I just thought you saw it, too, and that’s why you wanted me to call. You never send an urgent message.”

“What did you see, Sam?” Your stomach was twisting with anxiety the more the conversation went on. He let out a jumble of words that you had a hard time understanding. When you gave him a look of confusion, he rolled his eyes.

“I was doing my daily routine of stalking everyone on the internet.” He said, seeming to have trouble with how he was going to word his sentences. Leave it to Sam to spend an hour a day to catch up on everyone else’s drama. “And I saw a couple posts, a-and I think it’s just speculation and rumours,” he led into the topic as easy as he could. “But there’s a couple pictures of Jake going around. With another girl. And everybody thinks it’s a possible girlfriend.” He breathed. Your stomach dropped, but you held your expression firm, not letting a hint of emotion through.

“Oh, okay.” Was all you said. You tried to reason with yourself, wanting to believe that it was just a misunderstanding. Then, your brain immediately focused on the fact that you hadn’t heard from him all day, which was extremely unusual. That, and he hadn’t even told his brothers where he was. You were certain if Josh was lying to you, you’d be able to tell. He wasn’t very good at it. “Can you send me them?” You asked, clearing your throat to get rid of the lump that was forming.

“I’m sure it’s nothing, squirt. I wouldn’t worry too much about it.” His attempt at deflecting the impact was failing miserably.

“Just send them to me, Sam.” Your tone was becoming more angry by the second. He let out a long sigh, but did so without another word. The incoming message popped up on the top of your phone, immediately drawing your attention. You clicked on it, the aforementioned pictures unpleasantly gracing your screen. You tapped on the screenshot, zooming in a little bit to get a closer look.

There he was, unmistakably Jake, sitting at a restaurant table across from an unknown girl. There was a familiar smile on his face, one that made you sick when you thought about him giving it to another girl. You swiped through the photos, quickly finding that it was a whole Twitter chain. ‘Damn, his fans are always on top of the game’ you thought to yourself. There was pictures of them eating together, one with his hand resting on her arm, one of them walking down the street a little too close for comfort, and the last one of her wearing his jacket. You felt an indescribable feeling wash over you.

You read through the comments of fans talking about seeing it, how pretty she was, how happy he looked, and some not so nice tweets. You couldn’t help but feel a small comfort at the unsupportive statements. Your rationale was completely gone now, filled with anger at the sight. More than anything, you felt like an idiot. You fell for him so hard, but he was a boy, and a rockstar, at that. You had no idea why you believed a insignificant girl in Baltimore could tie him down. He probably had a new girl falling for him in every city he visited. Panic started to seep in, realizing that everything you were afraid seemed to be coming true. The look in his eye when he was smiling at her sent a shiver down your spine. It was so similar to how he looked at you.

There was a small part of you insisting there must be more to the story. A bigger, louder part of you didn’t care. Your trust for men and significant others was already extremely low before you met him. You’d spent a lifetime getting treated like garbage and cheated on, and even if this wasn’t the case, you weren’t sure if you even wanted to know. It was easier for you to shut down, to draw the conclusion that boys would always be boys. Although the photos weren’t a tell-all, they certainly didn’t make you feel good when you looked at them. A tiny voice in your brain was telling you that you were being irrational, and that you were doing what you always did; you were using this as a scapegoat to jump ship before you got seriously hurt. Self-destruction was a very well acquainted friend of yours, but you thought you’d left it behind a long time ago.

You took a long, shaky breath before speaking again. “I gotta go.” You mumbled, not giving Sam any time to answer. You hung up, completely forgetting about the real reason you wanted him to call you. You turned your phone on silent, throwing on an old jean jacket. You slung your purse over your shoulder, making sure you had everything you needed before you walked out of your bedroom.

The door slammed behind you with enough force to rattle the wall beside it.

As you made your way down the hallway, your jaw was clenched hard enough to made your head ache. Another classic move of yours; burying the sadness in anger. You tried to break out of it your whole life, but having four hotheaded brothers that loved to pick on you made the emotion permanent. Eve peeked her head around the corner to see what created the loud noise, but recoiled at the look on your face. You walked past her, not able to even give a glance in her direction, scared if you did you would break down. You were sure Sam would tell her, anyway. You threw a pair of shoes on and disappeared through the front door as fast as you could. You knew where you were going, and nobody was going to stop you.

You made your way down the street, eyes set forward and unwavering. The tunnel vision made it easy to ignore all of the passerby’s. By the time you made it to the front door of your favourite bar, you were positively sick with despair. Your stomach was churning and your chest was aching. You wanted nothing more than to go home and cover yourself in blankets and sleep the pain away, but you were never so willing to let a boy ruin you. You pushed through the front door with such a force that everyone’s head turned to look at you once you stepped inside. You went straight to the bar, too determined to drink to pay any mind to them. You stopped once you got in front of the bar, pulling your card out. Mike approached you, giving you a look of curiosity.

“Awful early for you to be here. Usually you only drink before 8 if something serious happened.”

“Triple whiskey sour.” You muttered, in no mood to make conversation. “And two shots of fireball.” He eyed you with concern, but pulled the bottles out, anyway. He wasn’t worried that you couldn’t handle your liquor; he was worried about why you were itching to drink so badly.

“You okay?” He asked as he slid the shot glasses towards you. You took both back to back, ignoring the burning in your chest. It was nothing compared to the ache in your heart.

“Perfectly okay, Mike.” You promised. “Never been better, actually.” He handed you the solo cup, eyes never leaving your face.

“For some reason, I don’t know if I believe you.” He said, watching you take two long drinks out of the glass.

“Quit it with the concerned act. Business is business.” You scolded, mustering a small smile to lessen the blow of the harsh words. You tapped your debit card against the machine once he pushed it towards you, taking a seat in one of the chairs. Tonight was not a dancing night, you decided. You felt your phone vibrating in your purse. It hadn’t stopped since you left the house. You were sure it was Sam, and you cared so little that you didn’t even bother taking it out to check it.

Your first drink came to an end pretty fast, and Mike, knowing you well enough, kept a steady stream of refills in front of you. By the time 9 o’clock rolled around and the bar began to get busy, you were already hammered. The anger in your body was still raging, but you were drunk enough to bury it deep under the surface. Mike had got a bit more talking out of you as the time passed, only making his concern grow more. You were very elusive as to why you were so desperate to be intoxicated, making him believe that whatever the reason was, was really bad. He’d only seen you drink like that on a few occasions, and rarely ever did you go to the bar alone.

“I think you should answer your phone, darlin’.” Mike said, eyeing your purse on the counter as your phone vibrated. As he sat with you, he took note of all the calls you were ignoring.

“You can.” You giggled, nudging the bag towards him. He sighed, reminding you of your dad when he got upset. “I’m not worried about it.” He reluctantly opened your purse and took your phone out, figuring it was better to let your friends know you were alive. You were good enough friends with Mike for him to feel comfortable enough to answer your phone for you. It definitely wouldn’t have been the first time. He tapped the screen, lighting it up to reveal the extensive list of missed calls and texts.

“Eve sent you a bunch of question marks then asked where you went. She’s called you probably a million times. Sam is very worried about you and says he’s going to fly back here if you don’t answer him. Uh, whoever ‘twin rockstar’ is called and texted a few times. Ally called. And ‘Rockstar’ called you about… fifty times.” He listed off. All you could do was laugh. ‘Fuck Jake’, you thought to yourself.

“That’s nice. Can I get another shot with my next drink?” You asked.

“Y/n, you should at least tell Eve where you are.” You played with the straw in your cup, pretending not to hear him. He gave up, sliding your phone back to where it was before. After a moment, he obliged to your request, placing both drinks in front of you. You threw the shot back, feeling someone slide into the chair next to you as you placed the glass back down. You looked over, not recognizing the boy now in your company. You weren’t sure if you were too drunk to place the face, or if you’d never met him before.

“Hey,” he smiled at you. ‘Pretty smile’ you noted.

“Hi.” You replied, not really feeling up to making conversation. You kept your eyes on your drink, not willing to look up at him again.

“What are you drinking? I’ll buy you one.” You almost laughed out loud.

“No, thanks. I’m okay.” You told him, taking a long sip from your straw to avoid any further trouble.

“Why, you have a boyfriend?” He asked. It wasn’t harsh, more of a genuine inquiry. “He must be a lucky guy.” He spoke again before you could answer. You looked over to him, an unfamiliar feeling settling under your skin. You opened your mouth to respond, but you weren’t sure what to say.

“Uh, no, I don’t.” You decided in a split second. As the words came out of your mouth, it felt like someone had punched you in the stomach. “Not anymore, so I’m just not looking for anything.” You explained, gloom casting over you again.

“Sorry to hear that. He must be real stupid to let someone as pretty as you get away.” All you could do was chuckle at his statement. When silence ensued again, he took it upon himself to fill it. “If you change your mind, come and find me.” He quickly scribbled his number down on a bar napkin and slid it your way. Your eyes fell over it, almost finding it humorous. Once he got up and walked away, you handed it to Mike after ripping it in half.

“So dark and broody broke your heart?” Mike asked, tossing the paper in the garbage.

“Don’t say it like that. Makes him sound more important than he is. You have to love someone for them to break your heart.” You explained. Mike eyed you, a knowing look on his features.

“I think you’re lying to yourself, honey.” He said, handing you another shot. He was hyper-aware of your state, wanting to recognize when he needed to cut you off. “It’s okay to get hurt. Makes us human.”

“No lies and not human.” You told him, a sweet smile on your lips.

“Whatever you say.” He shook his head, moving on to serve the next customer. You lost yourself in the music playing over the speakers, finally seeming to rid yourself of the overwhelming emotions. Your face was hot and your body felt light. Your head was swimming with words, but none of them came together to make a worthwhile statement. The intoxication had reached a point where all of your inhibitions were gone; it was a dangerous situation for someone hurting so badly. Just because you weren’t currently immersed in the hurt, didn’t mean you weren’t trying to suffocate it for good.

You walked over to the pool tables, grabbing a cue and racking the balls. You sipped at your drink, shooting aimlessly and sinking shots intermittently. After a while, a group of people joined you at your table. You had no idea who they were, or what their names were. You were sure they told you, but you were in no state to remember them. There were a few girls and two guys, and they all seemed super friendly. They were a good tool to pass the time with, or perhaps more of a distraction than anything. Either way, they were buying pitchers of drinks and sharing, and they were quite funny.

As the hour neared midnight, Mike had turned the sound system up as he usually did. You retracted your much earlier thought, realizing that dancing was the best sounding activity at the moment. One of the boys from the group took his chance, moving closer to you and dancing alongside you. Instead of recoiling, you allowed it, ready to reap the consequences later. He twirled you around, pulling you closer to him so your chest was pressed to his. You both sang the song to each other, faces dangerously close. His hand was on your hip, eyes never leaving you. You were having a good time, but couldn’t shake how wrong it felt. Sure, it was fun, but it was absolutely meaningless. You never wanted to feel something meaningless again after feeling what you had with Jake. He leaned in, attempting to catch you in a kiss, but you withdrew, suddenly feeling dirty for even letting another guy get that close to you. You were lost in thought, almost furious again knowing that Jake still had your entire heart. As bad as you wanted to rid yourself of him, you were more terrified of feeling like you weren’t his anymore, or him yours. The thought didn’t last long, because someone grabbed your arm and pulled you away from the group.

You looked to the source of the disturbance, only to be met with the fuming faces of your roommates. You took a moment to process it, blinking hard to rid yourself of the double vision. “We’ve been calling you all night.” Eve said, dangerously calm. “We didn’t know if you were dead, or if you got kidnapped, or what, until Mike called us and told us you were here.”

“Why would he-“

“Do not get mad at him for looking out for you.” She snapped. You felt a wave of nausea run through you as your face burned with heat. “I’m taking you home before you do something you’ll regret.” She pulled you towards the door, not willing to listen to any sort of explanation. When you got outside, the cool night air hit you like a million knives on your skin.

“Eve,” you mumbled. She continued walking, not listening to your warning. “M’gonna be sick.” You told her. She stopped, looking back at you. Her tough exterior faltered, now really seeing the state you were in. She pulled you back in an alleyway, gathering your hair in her hands. You braced yourself with your hand on the brick of the building, heaving until there was nothing left in your stomach. When you straightened up, there were tears in your eyes. Some from throwing up, but more from crying.

You took a step back, leaning your whole body against the wall and letting out the sob you’d been holding back all night. Ally was standing guard at the end of the side-street, making sure nobody could witness your crisis. You were consumed with the memories of the pictures you saw earlier that night, feeling a non-alcohol related sickness in your stomach. Eve dug in your purse, finding a small pack of tissues. She pulled one out and cleaned off your face as best she could before discarding it on the ground. Normally, she’d be appalled at the thought of throwing garbage on the ground. At the moment, she was willing to sacrifice her morals rather than hold on to the repulsive piece of paper.

She brushed the hair from your face, for once being completely unsure of how to help you. She couldn’t recall the last time she’d seen you so upset. “Let’s get you home, okay?” She whispered. You managed a nod through your inconsolable state. She led you back to the main road after helping you take your heels off. She kept a supportive hold around your back, making sure you didn’t stumble and fall. Ally took to the other side of you, also offering her support.

The walk was treacherous and much longer than it should have been. By the time the two girls got you through the door, you were nothing short of a mess. Eve whispered something to Ally that you didn’t quite catch. Then, Eve helped you to the couch and Ally disappeared from sight. Eve took a seat next to you, gently wiping away the tears staining your cheeks. You tried to catch your breath, feeling completely out of control. Within a few minutes, Ally had rejoined the group holding a plethora of items in her arms. She put them down on the couch, making fast work at her mission.

First she pulled out a few makeup wipes, handing them to Eve so she could rid you of the mascara running down your face. When she was done, she placed the wipes on the coffee table. Ally handed her a hair tie next. Eve turned you slightly, combing her hands through your hair and quickly braiding it. “Next parts gonna be a bit harder.” She mumbled. “Gotta stand for me, okay?” You gave a nod. She helped you to your feet, steadying you before unzipping the back of your dress and slipping the sleeves off. When it fell to your ankles, she pulled a large t-shirt over your head. “There.” She sighed. You slowly sat back down on the sofa, feeling the world spinning around you.

“I’m sorry.” You mumbled, squeezing your eyelids shut. Tears were still making their way out with no sign of stopping.

“I know.” She said, thumb brushing them away as fast as they were falling. “I know you’re hurting. We all do stupid stuff when we’re hurting.”

“I told him I loved him. He said he loved me, too.” You cried, feeling the ache settle in your bones again. “He promised.” You blubbered.

“I know, honey. We’re gonna get some sleep and sober you up a bit, and we’ll fix this in the morning, okay?”

“I’m supposed to go to Atlanta next weekend.” In your drunken state, you unintentionally disregarded everything she was saying. “He said he was gonna take me around the world with him. I knew this was going to happen. I never should have opened up. I never should have let this happen.” You let out a shaky breath. “I don’t even know if he did it, or not. All I know is that it hurts. ‘nd m’so scared because I hate when people have this much power over me.” She knew you were really fucked up over this, because it was nothing like you to come out with all of your feelings so willingly. “I love him. I really love him. I’ve never felt like this before, and it just made me realize that he makes me so happy, but he has the power to take it away whenever he wants. And he’s this big rockstar who can have anybody he wants. All he has to do is say the word. He can have girls who looks like that. Why would he settle for me?”

“Hey, that is not true. Anyone who ends up with you will be the luckiest person in the world.” She scolded, not willing to accept that.

“He’s just… he’s Jake. And he’s perfect. And I adore him. A-and I’m so scared of losing him that… that I feel like I have to leave first, to spare myself from the worse hurt, later, you know?” You hiccuped. “I always do this. M’gonna ruin it for myself because m’always so fucking scared! I tried to get rid of the feeling, to get rid of him, but all of the stuff that usually works just made me think about him even more. I don’t want him to have that power over me, don’t want him to be able to flip my world upside down whenever he wants, but it just felt so good being loved by him and I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to forget it.” You let your head fall back into the cushion of the couch, completely defeated by how you were feeling. She quickly caught on to the fact that this whole situation may have had a lot less to do with the pictures from earlier, and much more to do with your fear of being in love.

“I know, baby.” She practically winced. She didn’t know the full story. She only knew what Sam had told her, then Jake’s incoherent babbling on the phone when he called her earlier. He was so out of his mind with worry she was surprised he didn’t jump on a plane and fly back just to make sure you were alive. Then, when she finally calmed him down enough to tell him she would make sure you were okay, Josh called and voiced his worry and defence of his brother. Eve was completely in the loop from all sides of the battle, but she had no idea what was really going on. “Ally is going to get the air mattress and we’ll all stay out here tonight. We’re not gonna leave you.” She pulled you into her, holding you close. Ally disappeared once again, off to gather more necessities. Eve rubbed your back, soothing you as you worked through your emotions. Her main concern was you, and it would always be that. Once you were asleep, she’d worry about everyone else.

The two girls banded together to pump up the large air mattress, having to take turns every now and again. Eventually, they had it set up and decorated the top with comforters and pillows. They prompted you to get in, wanting to get you to sleep as fast as possible, hoping if you got enough rest you’d feel better in the morning. They turned on a speaker, playing gentle music in the background so you could focus on something other than your hurt. It didn’t take long for the alcohol in your system to lull you to sleep, soft snores falling from your mouth.

“What the fuck happened?” Ally asked, finally winding down from the eventful night.

“I… couldn’t tell you, really. Sam sent me some suspicious pictures of Jake and another girl. Apparently Twitter thinks they’re together. And you know her, she doesn’t really believe in explanations or second chances. I guess it probably reminded her of last time. And I think she may be using it as a cop out because she’s really in love with him, and that terrifies her.”

“Do you think Jake would do that to her?” Ally asked, genuinely curious.

“He seems to be head over heels for her, but the pictures did seem kind of incriminating. He wasn’t kissing her or anything like that, but he was pretty close with her and she was wearing his jacket. Whoever she was, he looked quite enthralled in her. If i were her, I’d probably be pretty hurt, too. I don’t think she’s wrong to feel upset, especially if she didn’t know about it or who she was before she saw the pictures. I do think she should talk to him about it before running away.” Eve explained. Ally gave a nod. “Jake called me and he was super upset. Could barely understand what he was saying. He was just all over the place. Told him I’d make sure she was okay, but I didn’t ask him about it. I’m on team y/n, always. I’m not going to vouch for him, cause that will only make her mad at me.” She shrugged. “Even if he didn’t cheat on her, she’s still hurting. Maybe a bit more from her internal battles, but she’s still hurting.”

“I get that.”

“Josh called, too, trying to explain on behalf of his brother. It’s just a mess. I hope that Jake does have a good explanation, because I really like them together. But I’m not sure if she’ll listen to him, even if he does. She doesn’t listen to anyone but herself.” Eve chuckled. Ally nodded, knowing that all too well. “She already has the idea in her head, and every one of those feelings are multiplied by a thousand because she’s in love. Like, really in love. I don’t think she’s been this crazy for anyone, ever.” Just as she finished speaking, your phone began to ring in your purse again. Eve pulled it out, inspecting the screen. She sighed, rejecting the call and picking up her own phone. She dialled back the number that called you and waited for him to answer. She didn’t feel the need to completely block Jake out, but she’d be damned if she was going to let you know she was talking to him.

“Hey,” a raspy voice said from the other side of the phone.

“Hello, Jacob.” Eve said.

“Is she okay?” Her eyes looked towards you sleeping soundly on the air mattress.

“That’s a relative term, I think.” She grimaced slightly, recalling the state you had been in. “Alive, yeah, but she’s really fucked up.”

“Okay.” Jake said, clearing his throat a little bit. “I didn’t mean to hurt her.”

“That’s also quite relative. I’d like to say I know, but I can’t.”

“I didn’t cheat on her.” He said firmly. “I’m not cheating on her. I would never do that.”

“Okay.” She replied, mimicking his earlier statement.

“I absolutely know why she’s mad at me. If it was the other way around and I saw those pictures, I’d… yeah.” He trailed off.

“I can’t defend you to her, Jake. She’s been my best friend for years. I barely know you. Even if she’s overreacting, which I am absolutely not saying she is, I’m on her side.” Eve explained. “Unless she did something really fucked up, which she didn’t, and she won’t.” She added quickly, wanting to clarify that she wouldn’t blindly stand up for you in every context. “She’s a spitfire. She goes from 1 to 100 faster than anyone I’ve ever met. Yeah, she’s upset about what happened today, but I think she’s also having a hard time with being in love. She’s scared of it. Always has been. She’s so independent that it’s actually infuriating, and I believe she may be struggling with depending on someone for once. This whole thing might have been the excuse she’s been waiting for, to run away.” Eve explained. “I think maybe if she just saw the pictures, it wouldn’t have been so bad. But all of those Twitter comments were pretty hard to read, and I’m not even dating you.”

“I know. That part of fame sucks. Everyone speculates, and stories spread before we even know that it caught someone’s attention. And I get it. I understand why you and her both feel the way you do. I would feel the same if one of my brothers got hurt.” She did feel quite bad for him. She didn’t think Jake was a bad guy, but perhaps not the best at communication. In this instance, at least. “Can you at least try to get her to come to Atlanta? Just so I can talk to her. I’ll fly her back as soon as I do, if that’s what she wants. I just can’t leave things like this, and I know she’ll never answer my calls.” His words were met with a staggering silence. After a while, Eve spoke again.

“Do you swear on your life you didn’t cheat on her?” She asked, picking at a string that had frayed from the hem of her sweater.

“I promise.” He said, quite firmly.

“Cause if I get her to go Atlanta and I find out you really did fuck her over, I’ll kill you.” She replied as a matter-of-fact.

“I would never do that to her, Eve.” She believed him, for the most part. If he was lying, he was really good at it. “I love her.” He finally admitted. The sincerity in his words took her off guard.

“I’ll try, rockstar. It may not work, and I’m not going to force her, but I’ll try to get her on that plane. Only because I think you guys are cute together, and you made her so happy. She’s never had that before. It took a lot for her to give you a chance, especially after the last guy. If this ends like this, I don’t think she’ll ever recover.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t. And also, this conversation never happened. I’m not defending you, I’m not going behind her back, nothing like that. The only reason I’m doing this is because I think it’s in her best interest. Even if it’s just closure, that’s fine by me.” She warned. “Now think up a real good apology, rockstar.”

“Will do.” He said. There was no room for any more words, because she’d already hung up. Ally gave Eve a look of caution, worried that Eve was going to rock the boat even further. Eve brushed it off, standing and flicking the lights off in the living room. She climbed on the air mattress and wrapped herself up in a blanket. Ally followed suit, both of them falling asleep not long after with the hope that the morning would bring some form of clarity.

TAGLIST: @gvfpal @jakesgrapejuice @hellowgoodbye

[lxvejohnny]

The endless beginning

part seven

scream VI fanfiction with implied ethan x oc!

find the masterlist for this fic here. heaavvyyy on the angst & gale love in this one. enjoy!

Amelie sits in between Tara and Mindy on the back of an ambulance while Chad leans against the side of it closest to Mindy. Amelie holds her knees up to her chest and has her left arm placed over the right side of her bandaged chest. Sam stands a couple of feet away where Anika’s body lays covered and smokes a cigarette. Amelie feels as if time has stopped, not being able to process what just happened to them. Anika is dead. She promised Mindy that she would keep her safe, she fucking promised her, and what happened? She makes it out alive and not Anika. Guilt eats at her insides and her stomach churns at the thought. If she had just made Anika go first then maybe she would still be here, with Mindy. She feels so guilty, she is sure that even Mindy blames her for letting Anika go last and being dead. She looks over at Mindy who stares blankly at the ground below her and she feels like crying all over again, thought there seems to be no tears left in her body.

Anika was like a breathe of fresh air. After Amelie moved to New York, she felt like a new beginning was coming but she was still choking on the past. When she met Anika, it was like it all changed for her and her friends. Anika understood her like no one else did, was always able to cheer her up, and was always willing to listen when Amelie was having a particularly rough day. There was nothing that could fix this hole in Amelie's chest and she is now down another person who knew and loved her, for her.

Amelie also can't help but think that if she had never become friends with Anika, never had introduced her to their friends, or let her get involved with Mindy, that maybe Anika's fate would be different. Or if she had just forced Anika to go on the ladder first, then maybe the situation they are in currently would be completely different. Maybe Anika could be sitting here beside her right now.

And Quinn, fuck. Her beautiful roommate who, though she wasn't as close to as Anika, was still one of her good friends. The weight of her dead body still lingers on her mind and her blood is currently smeared on Amelie's white shirt. Quinn was also dead, and within the span of 20 minutes, she had lost two more people in her life.

“Chad-“ Amelie looks up and sees Ethan has managed to cross over the police tape and slowly advances to the group. Chad angrily grabs Ethan by his shirt and shoves him against a car.

“Where were you?” Chad shoves him harder into the vehicle behind him.

“What, when?” Ethan’s eyes widen and he almost looks frightened at Chad’s angry behavior. Pretend, pretend, pretend. Chad pushes against him harder with anger ridden all over his face. “Last night.”

“What-What? I had Econ. You know this,” Ethan looks at him pointedly. Their posted school schedule up on their fridge and Ethan reminded him once more last night before Chad went back to the girl’s apartment.

“Bullshit, man! You disappear and my sister almost gets killed.” Venom is laced in Chad’s voice as he doesn’t let up his grip on the boy. He lowers his voice before he adds, "Amie almost got killed."

“What-What? Is she okay?" Ethan replies as innocently as he can with concern covering his face and puts his arm out in defence. It appears as if it is working on Chad as his face contorts and his emotion is almost unclear. "Dude, I was at a study hall with a hundred other people, you can ask any of them.”

“Fuck, man,” Chad snarls his lip and reluctantly lets him go. Ethan, relieved, looks at where the crime scene is blocked off and then back to the girls in the ambulance. He stars at Amelie and his eyes widen.

“Oh my god. Who?” Ethan asks in disbelief to which Chad answers that it was Anika and Quinn before walking back over to the girls. Ethan looks back at Amelie and then down to the bandage on her chest, concern flashes across his face.

“Mindy, I’m so sorry,” He attempts to walk closer to the girls. Closer to Amelie, really, to make sure she is okay. “Amelie, I-“

“Step the fuck back,” Mindy looks at him deadly. She reaches over and places an arm across Amelie’s legs, almost defending her from Ethan’s eyes. Mindy was wrong last time about the killers, but she is so sure this time around that it was Ethan. Ethan stops moving and his mouth opens again but Mindy beats him to it. “You are at the top of my list.”

“I-I had Econ!” Ethan tries once more and looks back at Amelie. “Amie.”

Her eyes remain blank, but tears start lining them. She stares at him and wants to believe so badly that he had nothing to do with this and nothing to do with Ghostface, but it was too much of a coincidence. She remembers trying to call and text him when she was back in Danny's apartment, but alas, he didn't answer until hours later. Sure, he could have had Econ and he could have nothing to do with this, or he could have been under a mask with a knife in his hand. He pleads her with his eyes to have him believe her, but she remains stoic. She so desperately wants to run into his arms and be comforted, be told that it wasn’t her fault that Anika is dead, and she will be okay after nearly getting killed again, but she can’t make herself get up.

“Don’t even think about it,” Mindy continues to glare at Ethan. If her speculations were true, he was no longer going to get any closer to Amelie and Mindy was going to make sure of it. She will not lose Amelie to the hands of Ethan like she did Anika.

Tara gets up and heads to Sam when she sees the detective approach her sister crying, assumingly because he just walked in to see his daughter brutally murdered. Amelie stays with Chad and Mindy as she watches the detective from the ambulance. Her heart wrenches for him knowing that he had to see his daughter’s dead body. She knows how painful it is to see the body of your lifeless family and how you will never live the same again after you do.

“Amelie,” Ethan says painfully one more time. Maybe this time around he doesn't get the privilege to call her by her nickname. She looks back at him, seeing that he needs reassurance, but she knows she can’t give it to him. She swallows hard and attempts to push herself onto her feet before Chad makes his way in front of her. He shakes his head at her and says her name cautiously, “Amie.”

“It’s okay,” She whispers and reassures the twins. “I am only talking to him here; I won’t go any further. I promise.”

Chad reluctantly steps out of the way but doesn’t take his eyes away from Ethan and Amelie. The girl puts her feet on the pavement and takes only a few small steps away from the truck and closer to Ethan. She pauses when she is a couple of feet away from him and looks at his face. His shoulders sagged a bit, relieved that she at least was willing to talk to him.

“I swear I didn’t-“ he starts and shakes his head.

“Okay,” She interrupts him. He closes his mouth and looks at her face to see what she is thinking. She said okay to keep him from defending himself again and he knows it, too. She doesn’t completely believe that he was at school, but she also can’t disprove that he wasn’t at this moment in time, so she lets him continue.

“Are-are you okay?” Ethan asks her with upmost sincerity in his eyes as he glances at her collarbone that is all bandaged up. She bits her lip and shakes her head, her eyes getting red all over again. She wants to sob in his arms and tell him that she really isn’t okay, but she knows she needs to keep her distance. So instead, with pain in her eyes she shortly replies with a “No.”

It was just last night when they shared an intimate moment and she truly believed that she could let him in, but she can’t help and want to throw up when she thinks about the possibility of what Ethan may have done. His brown innocent eyes flicker between her eyes and the slash on her chest and an emotion clouds his eyes that Amelie can’t seem to distinguish. Ethan feels nothing but regret in his body as he looks at the mark he inflicted upon the girl he likes. He did not want to hurt her; he didn’t mean to hurt her, and he did. She was reaching for the mask, and he could not let it fall from his face so he did the only thing he could and that was lash out in the direction where he was being interrupted. He also feels an ache in his ankle where she had managed to kick him, a small purple bruise being left behind. He can't limp, though, no matter how bad he may want to. It would be too obvious that it was him, more than it already was.

Ethan wants to reach out and hold her tight, say sorry repeatedly for what he had done to her, but he knows that she doesn’t believe him and their friends behind Amelie almost never blink as they watch the two like hawks. So, Ethan tries to take one step towards her to remind her of last night, of the moment they shared. Maybe to even get her to remember his gentle touch, and reassure her that he would never hurt her. On purpose, at least. But as soon as his foot moves closer, Chad reciprocates his action and warningly, steps closer to the girl. As painful as it is Ethan steps back to his previous location and looks at Amelie, wondering if she was also thinking about the time they spent together just the night before.

“Amelie!” The young girl hears her name being called and strips her eyes away from the boy in front of her to see Gale running to the scene. Amelie’s eyes widen and she rushes over where Gale brings her into her embrace. She closes her eyes as she holds the teens head close to her and takes a deep breathe. She didn’t know who got hurt by the attack and just prayed over and over that it wasn’t Amelie. She had lost Dewey already; she cannot lose the only Riley left standing. “Are you okay? I came as soon as I heard.”

She feels Amelie nod in her arms before she pulls back form the hug. Gale keeps her hands placed on her shoulders as she looks at the girl for any other injuries, noting the bandage on her chest. “I-I just got slashed once but Anika didn’t make it and Quinn was-was killed, and-and-“

Tears start to fall from Amelie’s eyes as she tries to tell Gale and she begins shaking. Gale was the closest thing she had to a parent since her dad passed and she can’t help but want to break down and be comforted while being held by an adult who loved her as if she were her own. Amelie felt as if she cried all the tears her body could produce but as soon as Gale brought her into that first hug, she knew she was bound to break down all over again. Gale brings the girl closer to her again and strokes her hair as she lets Amelie cry. She knows this feeling, she knows all too well, and while she always tried to ignore how hard the reality of all the Ghostface attacks were, sometimes it caught up on you. “I know, Amie, I know.”

Gale waited until Amelie was ready to let go before the young girl brought her over to where Sam and Tara were standing with the detective. Sam hears footsteps approach and sees Gale with Amelie before shaking her head and hardening her eyes. “Gale, I swear to god-“

“-No, no, truce, okay? I’m here for whatever you need,” Gale says truthfully as she interrupts Sam. Amelie stands close beside Gale and remains silent. She knows how Sam feels about Gale, but she also knows that Gale just wants to be there for the girls who have to experience this a second time around.

“Yeah, okay, nice try,” Sam says unconvinced. Tara stares at Gale with a lack of emotion on her face. Same as Amelie, they figured that Sam should be the one to decide if she wants Gale to join this time around.

“Really, I am,” Gale says one more time, looking between the two sisters in front of her. Sam looks towards Amelie beside Gale and how close she is standing next to the older lady. Amelie catches her stare and nods at Sam, trying to tell her that it’s okay to involve Gale. “Okay, off the record, okay?”

“Okay, thank you,” Sam says reluctantly. Gale looks over to the younger Carpenter sister, almost expecting her for her to announce her approval of her being there as well.

“I-I’m sorry I punched you,” Tara eventually says. Amelie sees Gale shake her head in response, a small smile creeping onto her face. She expects it now, to be punched, every time she arrives to interview the next set of victims. She also knows that every time she is hit, they mean to do it out of anger for her nosy-ness and they do mean their actions. “No, you’re not.”

“I’m not,” Tara agrees and lets a smile make its way onto her lips.

“You’re the cop, right?” Gale turns to Bailey. He nods in response, seeming to be still caught up in his sorrow. “I did some digging on your first two victims and I found something. I know where the masks are coming from.”

Amelie turns to Gale with shock in her eyes. She has heard all about how good Gale is from her dad when it comes down to figuring out who the killer is, so she shouldn’t really be so shocked, but she is consistently impressed at how Gale is able to do it.

“Show me,” Detective Bailey steps forward, almost in anticipation once he hears Gale’s exciting news.

“Ladies,” A new voice appears, walking in the direction of the group. Amelie turns to see Kirby make her way over, guess she was going to stay as involved as she said.

“Kirby?” Gale looks at the girl incredulously. Kirby acknowledges Gale with a head nod, to which Sam lets her know that Kirby is now with the FBI. “She’s a child. When did they start letting children into the FBI?”

“I’m thirty,” Kirby replies after rolling her eyes. Amelie notes that their personalities are not great for getting along and almost wants to chuckle at their interaction. Given the situation, she is finding it hard to even remotely let a smile upon her face.

“Well, you look like a zygote,” Gale says pointedly.

“I have a gun, Gale,” Kirby places a hand on her hip where said weapon lays. Gale looks at where Kirby's hand is placed and rolls her eyes.

“Okay, fine. You’re going to want to see this too,” Gale relents. Amelie looks back to the ambulance where Ethan is already looking at her. She also sees where Mindy keeps her head down and Chad stays glaring daggers at his roommate. Amelie places her hand on Gale’s arm and nudges her head towards her group of friends sitting behind them, letting her know she is going to fill them in on their plans.

Amelie approaches them and Ethan straightens his posture when she sees her advancing. The twins turn their heads to the smaller girl when they hear her approach.

“We are going with Gale. She found something,” Amelie looks at Mindy and Chad as she speaks before turning her head to where Ethan stands feets away from the other two. “All of us.”

So, that’s where the group starts heading. Amelie and the rest of them follow behind Gale as she starts letting them all know how she found the place and how Jason and Greg managed to get the place. Amelie stands closely behind Gale by herself as she listens in, with Sam and Tara directly behind her. Gale eventually makes a stab at Kirby, telling her that she was good at her job and Kirby will eventually get to where she is to which Kirby stands back beside Amelie and looks at her rolling her eyes. Amelie says nothing but shrugs her shoulders and gives her a small smirk. Gale already had an ego to begin with back when Ghostface already started, but as the years have gone on and her investigation skills have peaked, her confidence in these things have skyrocketed higher than before.

They all make their way into the place as Gale takes out a key card and swipes it to enter the two doors blocking their way from inside. Interesting how Gale managed to get those, Amelie thinks as she furrows her eyebrows, but she decided against questioning her.

“What is this place?” Sam asks when she makes her way inside, looking around in the darkness. “What’s with all the security?”

“It’s a movie theatre,” Amelie concludes, looking around once Gale turned the lights on.

“It’s not just a theatre. It’s a shrine.”

They all begin to walk further into the room when the large screen begins to lift, revealing all the Ghostface cloaks. They all begin to disperse to take a look around the room, but Amelie stands still next to Sam as they stare in disbelief at everything that lays before them. It seems as if every piece of important artifact from each Ghostface attack remains here in the theatre and Amelie feels sick all over again. These are pieces of evidence, some even remnants of weapons with victims’ blood and Amelie can’t even begin to believe that there were sick enough fucks in this world that would create a shrine like this.

“They’ve got the whole damn franchise,” Mindy states as she looks at the room in awe.

Amelie eventually makes her way down the steps with Sam once everyone has begun looking at all the pieces on the shrine. She sees Kirby looking at the knife that she was stabbed with and then the flannel shirt that her once friend, Jill, was wearing. Amelie walks forward and peers into the glass cases where she stops to where Gale looks solemnly into one. The two glance at each other before looking back at the case. Amelie feels her lip start to shake and bits it, tears welling in both her and Gale’s eyes. A drawn picture of Dewey and his death stares back at them, along with his gun, badges, and photos of him. Amelie shakes her head at the thought that someone felt good about capturing her dad like this. Her and Gale should be the ones allowed to have those badges and those pictures with them back at home, not some creep who stares at it as a relic.

Amelie can hear Tara and Gale chat around her but it’s as if her ears have closed and her ability to focus has disintegrated. She continues to walk around where she also finds Amber’s section of the shrine, pictures of her and Amber in the case from when they were best friends with dots of blood splattered on it. Her heart thumps loudly in her chest when she sees the face of her own stare back at her. Amelie eventually tears her eyes away as she makes her way to the next portion of the shrine, where a mannequin stands, clothed in the articles that her aunt was wearing the day she died.

“Aunt Tatum,” Amelie whispers as she looks at the pieces in desperation. She never even got to meet her aunt and the first time she is properly introduced to something of hers, is the pieces she was wearing the day she was taken by the hands of Ghostface. She can feel Ethan’s eyes burning into the side of her where he stands further down the aisle she was in. She was caught again between feeling like he cared about her and wants to provide her comfort as she looks at the pieces in the room that are tearing her apart piece by piece and feeling like she was being stalked by a man who is part of the reason why a shrine like this even exists. She tears her eyes away from him and begins walking towards Sam where she walks up the steps to where the cloaks are displayed. She can't help but think about the idea that Anika and Quinn may now have a place in this shrine, now falling victim to the hands of Ghostface.

“Uhm, why am I here, exactly?” Ethan turns away from Amelie and looks ahead where Chad stands. “My alibi checks out.”

“So, I can keep an eye on you, roomie,” Chad says smiling tauntingly at him while Mindy takes two of her fingers and points from her eyes to his. Ethan’s expression drops as he stares back at the two, not entirely sure how to respond to them.

“The killer must have found this place before he murdered Jason and Greg,” Gales says behind Amelie as she follows behind Sam, looking around at the different cloaks, each belonging to a past Ghostface. While Sam makes her way to the one in the glass case, the one that belonged to her dad, Amelie heads to stand in front of the one belonging to Amber. Amelie can’t hear anyone once again as she becomes too focused on what stands in front of her. People talk behind her but they are nothing but a mere voice to her. She thinks back to Woodsboro, where she met Amber and became friends with her so quickly because they just got along so well, despite Amber’s consistent attitude. She thinks about all the times they had a sleepover, watch scary movies together, and talk about the people they liked or drama they had going on in their life. The way that she was welcomed so quickly into their friend group after being a loner for so long, Dewey even trying to get her home schooled so she can be ultimately protected from the world. How her, Tara, and Amber, would inseparable, hanging out together at any given opportunity.

“So, somebody killed these chuckle-fucks and took over.”

Then she thinks about how it was Amber, the girl she considered her closest friend, who was behind the mask with the knife to her throat as she began to cut it. She was the one who killed Wes, the boy she liked, the boy who Amelie would gush to Amber about. The one who almost took Tara's life multiple time.

“Someone who believes that Sam masterminded Woodsboro.”

She was the one who brutally killed her father, proud of herself when she did, for being able to kill such a legacy character even if he was the dad of one of her friends. She remembers when Amber revealed herself when she shot Liv in the living room, and the feeling of betrayal when she realized that one of her best friends, was the killer.

“If this were a normal Stab movie, this would be the killers lair.”

Amelie looks at the cloak and she swears she can see Ambers face under the hood, the hollow look behind her eyes where you can see that she held no remorse or guilt for the pain she has caused, only a crazed expression holding her pride for what she believed she accomplished.

“Which means this isn’t a normal Stab movie.”

And finally, Amelie remembers the heat under her skin and shock on Ambers face when she was finally able to take the anguish Amber caused within her and kill her with it. The anger her and Gale felt when they looked at Amber as they ended her life.

Her eyes close as her breathe starts to quicken and she feels like she might either pass out or throw up. Then she thinks about how her friends just died only a couple of hours ago, and it was all too much at once. So, as quickly as she can, she finally turns away from the cloak and rushes off the stage, down the stairs and to the next empty room she can find. Everyone looks at her as she leaves the room and Sam decides that she should go check on the girl she considers to be her sister. Ethan looks at her exiting figure, wishing he could go after her for what felt like the 50th time today, but stayed in his spot knowing he would not be able to make it past Chad and Mindy.

In the next room, Amelie leans against the old concession stand counter with her head in her hands as a few tears make their way out of her eyes.

“You okay?” Amelie hears Sam’s small voice come up behind her. She removes her head from her hands and turns around to face the older girl.

“Sam, I don’t want to be a part of this anymore,” She shakes her head as tears well up in her eyes once again. “When is it going to feel normal again?”

Sam looks at the girl and feels for her. She wishes that she could help Amelie, help Tara, help all of them from the pain they are feeling, but she can’t. She can’t because she is also feeling it, along with the guilt of being Billy’s daughter. So soft, Amelie almost couldn’t hear it, Sam says, “I don’t know.”

“I am going to end up in there one day,” Amelie points to the room where the shrine stands, finally saying the words that have been lingering in her head since the day of the bodega. Sam looks at the girl with furrowed eyebrows and shakes her head but doesn’t get the chance to speak. “I am going to be a part of that room, one day, Sam, with Wes and my dad and my aunt, I just know it.

I-I looked at the displays of their deaths and then at Amber’s cloak and I see it all happening again. From the moments they died to every encounter I have had with that fucking thing; I see it every. Single. Fucking. Time,” Amelie looks so defeated and Sam feels pained as she hears the young girl vent about how she is feeling.

“No, Amie, you are not going to end up in there, okay?” Sam shakes her head at the girl before stepping closer and placing her hands on Amelie’s shoulders.

“Sam-“ Amelie tries to cut the girl off but Sam interrupts. “No, Amie. You are not going to die, and you are not going to end up being one of their fucking memoirs.”

Amelie has seen Sam scared and she has also seen her mad, but never this determined. Amelie feels the older sister in Sam come out as she talks to her and feels nothing but obliged to listen to her as she speaks.

“I will not let that happen, okay? And-and you are going to prove to them that you are just as strong as your dad was, and your aunt, and Wes, and now Anika,” Both the girls eyes water as they look into each other’s. “I swear to god, Amie, we are going to figure out who is doing this again and we will fucking kill them.”

Amelie lets another tear fall and nods her head at Sam’s words. The older girl brings her into a hug as she finishes her last sentence, whispering it to her but also to herself. “We are going to fucking kill them.”

The two separate as they hear the sound of someone’s shoes entering the room and see Tara running up the stairs behind them, Gale and Kirby following close behind. Sam and Amelie look concerned at the girl who quickly disappears upstairs before Kirby speaks up, “I got her.”

Leaving Gale with the two, she speaks up as she looks between Amelie and Sam. “Everything alright?”

“Ever since I came back into Tara’s life, and her-“ Sam nudges her head to Amelie beside her “-life, I’ve just made a mess of it.”

“No, Sam,” Amelie looks at the girl and shakes her head. She will not let Sam feel any more guilt than she already does and will not let her believe that it was her fault for everything that has happened. Sam looks down to the girl beside her. “My life was made a mess the day I was brought into this world. The day that I became friends with Amber.”

The two share another solemn look before Gale looks at Sam, “Where is your mother in all this?”

“She cut me off when I told her about Billy. Then Tara cut her off because she wouldn’t talk to me, so, now neither of us have a mother,” Sam explains with sadness laced in her voice as she recalls the events that happened with her mother.

“I’m sorry to say this but, fuck her. My parents sucked, too,” Gale tells Sam and then quickly looks at Amelie before returning her gaze to Sam. “So did her mom.”

“Yeah,” Amelie nods at Gale’s statement and lets out a breathy laugh. Sam also letting a smile slip.

“But you can still make your own family. Even if it’s just with one person,” Gale tells Sam but looks back to Amelie as she finishes her sentence. Amelie and Gale had that one person in common, Dewey. They shared Dewey until they lost him, and each other is all they have left since he got stripped away from them.

“And if you lose that one person?” Sam whispers, looking directly at Gale’s face, anticipating her answer.

“You just- you keep going. And maybe you find another loner, and you look after each other,” Gale looks directly at Amelie as she utters those words. Gale was never her mom, but she was more of a mother to her than the one she has and that is all she could have asked for since losing her dad. Gale reaches out and places her hand in Sam’s from across the counter, and then Amelie’s and she smiles at the two girls. They look at Gale with hope in their eyes and smile back at her. And maybe, that is all they needed in this moment. Because while there is still a killer out on the loose, ready to do anything it takes to kill them, being here with each other so connected gave them more hope than they have had before. Amelie really should listen to Sam and Gale more when they talk to her, because it may actually pay off in the end. They have each other and that is all Amelie could ask for, considering all the lost she has experienced. So, with hope and anger brewing inside her body, she becomes hopeful that maybe this time, this will be it and she will be able to miss another opportunity of making it into that shrine with her family. Because as she carries the weight and anguish of her pass bloodline spilled on her, she has her friends, Gale, and the power of being Dewey’s daughter inside of her and once again, she is never going to let him down.

[oldrockformations]

I tried so so hard to enjoy caitvi, and at the end of season one I was even rooting for them,, But I feel like they did a disservice to Vi’s character by continuing with her story of becoming a cop. This is the same person who has been in prison since she was a child, who received regular beatings in prison, who’s parents were killed by cops, who has been firmly anti police the entire time we’ve known her. And you’re telling me she is going to ignore all of that and instead commit war crimes against her own home with her cop gf?? Not to mention the sex scene being. In a prison cell. don’t even get me started on that.

I wouldn’t even dislike Caitvi if they had taken the time for Cait to recognize her privilege and take accountability for the harm she has caused. It would have tied in well with her coming to terms with her mother’s death. But no ig she and Vi are just The Good Cops.

I feel like they also could have had more focus on Ekko and the firelights,, and it would have been relatively easy to have a better ending. They had something really good going with Ekko’s story of living in the moment and solving problems with mutual aid. Why did they just ignore that whole subplot. Like just give Zaun its independence, let Ekko actually talk to the council and convince them. Show the firelights and sevika working to rebuild and better the community. Hell, maybe we even open The Last Drop back up and let Sevika or Ekko run the undercity like Vander did. Without the oppression from Piltover and with decent leadership, Zaun could have healed. Like it would not have been that hard to have the moral of the story be about love and community and connecting with the people around you instead of whatever liberal bullshit we got. Sevika and Ekko especially deserved better.

Anyway you’re so correct op. I tried so hard to trust the process and I got my hopes up but I was really disappointed. Which really fucking sucks because I adore this show with all my heart

Hello I'm back again at how Arcane ironically continues the cycle of violence that it says it wants to end at the end of S2. It's unsurprising, but just like general Western sentiment, Arcane also perpetuates the idea of This violence must stop - therefore the oppressed must stop rising up, through not just its treatment of Zaunite characters but also through the way the writers just handwaved away the issues of classism and oppression facing Piltover-Zaun.

They also continue the tradition of giving antagonists very valid points as they rise up against their oppression, and then they take it an extra step so they can villainize the oppressed and go like "hey actually look at their monstrous actions therefore they're all BAD and their points are invalid and these dangerous revolutions need to be put down." While I will give that Arcane certainly does give more nuance than standard Western media, it still ultimately falls into this same trap.

Like:

Enforcers killed Jinx/Powder's parents, but at the very end of the day she and Vi get no apology for their parent's death but she's the one who's apologizing to an enforcer for attacking the Councilors responsible for leading the oppression of Zaun

The shot of a Jinxer knocking away an enforcer's hand and then seeing that same enforcer helping an old lady and then feeling bad - like, oh no, this person who's part of a force that's been actively killing your people actually helps old ladies, actually everything is okay now

Renni, whose motivation was to avenge her son, is framed in a monstrous light while Jayce, who literally killed her child (a child!) does not even get a single second of introspection as he faces a grieving mother (Is there anything as undoing as a daughter/child? seems not to apply to Renni at all I guess)

The Zaunite characters that achieve any level of "peace" at the end with any part of Piltover are: - Vi, who gets together with an enforcer who literally gassed her city, and gets not a single moment of conflict past her initial apprehension at joining the enforcers and some jabs from Jinx that she brushes off. I do allow though that her getting together with Cait has been set due to game lore since a very, very long time. - Sevika, who is tokenized and placed on a hostile council - Jinx, who literally exiles herself and fakes her death - I'm not even going to count Viktor under this category given how Cosmic Horror Machine Herald completely does not relate to the themes of classism (but therein lies another problem, how Arcane did not address the systemic barriers that led him to this!)

Was Cait wrong for mourning over her mother? No, absolutely not. Was it understandable that she was extremely distraught, and wanted what she thought was justice? Yes, it was. Was it okay that she gassed civilians and then thought exactly zero (0) thoughts about how she was hurting innocents was it okay that she led a team to brutally continue the oppression of Zaun? No, it really fucking wasn't.

Overall, Arcane sustains the status quo; in doing so, it continues supporting a system that perpetuates violence against the working class, a system in which the marginalized must bend the knee to achieve a surface level of "peace".

[sihakadan]

okay okay i have returned

calling the arcane characters good boy/girl 🥰

Anon-

This is it. This is how I die.

NSFW, MDNI 18+

All the powers have mercy on my soul. Have a request, looking for something, or wonder who I write? Check out my master list. If you are wondering why there is no Caitlyn or Vi? I am in denial about the breakup in the rain and I refuse to see them with other people because they are perfect together, thank you for coming to my TED talk

•🐀Silco

-Is a dirty talker so when you turn it around on him and call him a good boy, it throws him for a loop. Silco.exe has stopped working

-You do this while riding him and he loses it mentally. His mind cannot function and his grip on your hips tighten

-He very much likes it and will reward you. "Tell daddy how good he is, my darling."

•💣Jinx

-Praise? How do she accept praise?

-Goes feral and tries to prove to you that she is not 'a good girl'

-The sex only gets rougher, and it was the whole point, that and to tell her how you felt

-"Tell me who's a good girl now?" She'll hiss through her teeth.

"Still you."

•⌛Ekko

-He is a good boy, and he knows it. You know it and so do most of the Firelights. Almost every night they are reminded that he is a very good boy

-Likes it when you talk dirty or praise him, will return the favor happily

-The best time to tell him this is when he is coming. It just makes it so much better for him

•🦇Scar (bat guy from the Firelights)

-He is a what? Will stop everything he is doing and need a moment to process

-Like Silco, his brain will just stop. But then he decides he likes it and he aims to please.

-He is your good boy and your good boy wants you to feel good

-You will get the best head of your life and will need a couple days of 'down' time until you can walk again

•💪Vander

-Tug his hair while you say it, you get a free ride to pound town

-Enjoys the praise, but he likes to praise you more than he gets it

-And let's face it, he isn't a boy. This is a whole ass man, and he will remind you of that

•🔥Finn

-Put a gag in his mouth because he will talk back to you

-He is NOT a good boy; how dare you insinuate that he is

-You will be punished dearly, little blossom, as soon as he gets out of these ropes. You better believe it.

-Stop laughing

•⚒️Jayce

-Will nut immediately because he loves it so fucking much

-On his knees, doing anything to please you, he wants to be your good boy so much

-Does whatever he can to get you to say it to him

•📖Viktor

-That is Mr. Good Boy to you

-And you better believe he is gonna love you calling him a good boy, especially when he goes down on you

-Acts like he is all good but really *internal screaming*

•🖌️Mel

-No, you are and mistress didn't say you could talk

-Now put this gag in your mouth and do as you're told, slave

-Mommy isn't done with you yet. Will get her whip

•♣️Sevika

-If on the rarest of occasions, she lets you top, praise her and maybe you'll get an extra reward

-*SPANK* "Say it again."

-Biting and scratching after saying it is her preferred, like she is being punished for being too nice and she needs to be naughtier

[the-dumpster-fire-of-life]

Hey Lana! Could I please request number 43 off your request list I believe it was? So Vi and Mitch with an S/O who’s arachnophobic and starts crying when they find the smallest spider in the room? Xx

Much love as always! :D

(Hello, my one true love! Here ya go, just finished it! Enjoy!)

Mitch and Vi x Reader with Arachnophobia Vi

She isn’t really afraid of spiders

But roaches? Terrified

So she got why you were afraid of spiders

But when she heard you screaming bloody fucking murder from outside the school

She fucking thought you were being murdered or mauled by a walker

Ma’am ran so fast at the speed of light

Bursting in your guys’ room 

“What?! What happened (Y/N)?!”

“Theres a fucking spider!”

At that point you had already ran towards her and jumped on her back

She had her cleaver pulled and everything already

Took her a moment to process what you had said 

Until it did

“What- Hold on, a spider? You screamed like that…for a spider?”

She dropped you off her back and just looked at her weirdly

She then sighed before walking back out of the room

You yelled and ran after her

“Don't leave me with it! Vi! Please!”

She eventually had to go back and look for it until she found it at like midnight

Because you wouldn’t step foot into y’alls room until she did

Mitch

You’re both so fucking fucked

The second you yelled because you saw the spider?

Mitch also thought you were being murdered and came running in with Willy right behind him

Both fucking busted down the door and almost trampled the other

“What is it?!”

They both yelled, both waving their knives around into thin air

“Spider!”

You then yelled, Willy looking at the tiny thing 

“Really? Mitch!?”

He then jumped when he heard a little high pitched squeal

He swore to god he thought it was you

Nope

It was Mitch

He jumped on YOUR back and fucking screamed

Ended up with you both screaming and trying to get away from it as Willy watched disturbed

Neither you or Mitch grabbed it

It was Willy

The boy almost 7 years younger than you both

Who also laughed as he chased you both around the school with it while you both screamed bloody hell

He found a new tool that day

If you can’t scare anyone, grab a spider, it always works

Nobody intervened and watched on as a 4’10, 13 year old boy chased around kids years older than him

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

All Men Have Limits - VI

Character: Dick Grayson x Reader x Bruce Wayne

Summary: A certain bat believes that Y/N is in way over her head, that she’s too naive to act in her best interest. So, whether she wants it or not, the vigilante family is going to help and protect her before she gets herself killed.

Word Count: 3,800+

Previously on…

“Nightwing! Regroup!” Bruce snapped into the comms again.

No matter how dire the situation was, they always stuck with their codenames while in uniform. But right now, Bruce wanted to scream at Dick to get his shit together.

Dick was quiet for a moment, allowing his family to only hear the roaring of his motorcycle as it zipped through the streets of Gotham.

“By the time we regroup, she’ll be dead,” Dick answered darkly.

This was the biggest difference between Dick and Bruce.

Dick wasn’t ruled by his emotions – except when it involved the safety of people he cared for and loved. When that happened, his emotions took control. It was very unlike Bruce, which just proved there were some things Dick simply couldn’t get trained out of him.

Bruce was always calm and collected – even when it was his kids that were in danger. Was he scared for Y/N’s life? Yes. But he also knew that panicking and going in hot was not going to help her. If anything, it would put more people in danger.

“Jason is following him,” Tim announced.

Jason might’ve refused to use comms, but they still had a tracker on his bike.

“What’s the plan?” Tim asked.

——————

Y/N probably looked like a drunk driver from the way she was serpentining to the heart of Gotham.

But she was tried to load a magazine into her gun as she ran every red light without getting t-boned by oncoming traffic.

It was…a lot. Especially since Y/N knew she were driving to her assassination.

It hadn’t been hard sneaking past the internal security at the manor. Y/N knew she could do it since she was brought there. But she decided to save that knowledge for the right time. And that was tonight. It was clearly designed mostly for Damian – or perhaps for any of the boys when they were younger and rebellious.

Then Y/N had to jumpstart the first car she saw parked on the street near Wayne Manor, which took longer than she had liked.

She might not have a lot of skills in the combat area. But she was rather resourceful in almost every other way – which included hijacking cars.

Y/N was so panicked about making it to the city before they could intervene, that her mind wasn’t really processing what was about to happen.

All Y/N knew was that she hoped they’d be done with it before any of them knew what was happening and could try to stop it.

She knew what they would’ve said. They would’ve told her to stay where she was and they would handle it. They would’ve done everything to keep her safe while also trying to save Gotham.

But Y/N couldn’t wait to see if she was responsible for the deaths of thousands while she sat on her ass and did nothing.

So she took her life into her own hands.

She gave enough information for them to use. Even if she was gone, she’d given them enough leads to finish the job without her.

Now her time was up.

Y/N knew eventually time would catch to her. She’d lived a far too risky life, threatened the most dangerous people, ruined the lives and locked up even more of dangerous people. It was only a matter of time before her luck ran out.

Y/N skidded the car to a stop. And she realized her hands were shaking as she threw the car into park.

She hadn’t stopped driving until she reached Old Gotham – right underneath the Clock Tower.

It was a nice, wealthy part of the city, which meant that there weren’t questionable people lingering on the streets.

In fact, it was eerily quiet – even for such a nice neighborhood. Y/N didn’t see a single person walking around in her vicinity.

But when she turned, there were five masked people watching her.

The Talons.

Their faces and bodies were completely covered, with their masks and goggles reminiscent of actual owls.

All of them had an arsenal of some sort of bladed weapon – countless knives, katanas, axes, or even broadswords. And, of course, they all had talons. 

“So you are the irritant,” one of them greeted, his voice muffled from his gear.

Y/N took a step back as she grabbed her gun out of the back of her waist.

But she felt a presence behind her and whipped around to see more Talons surrounding her.

Did they really expect her to be able to put up that much of a fight?

“I’ve been called worse,” Y/N smirked.

She was clearly in denial that she was about to die.

They all unsheathed their weapons.

But Y/N wasn’t going to let them make the first move.

She started shooting bullets. Either they were wearing bullet-proof vests or they were blocking her bullets with their weapons. It was all happening so fast that she couldn’t figure it out. She knew her aim wasn’t off. Jason had been secretly teaching her how to shoot. And she’d gotten rather good with his help.

“Fuck,” Y/N hissed when her magazine was empty and she had failed to take down a single Talon.

As she tried to reload the magazine, their patience ran out.

One of them knocked the gun out of her hand, slicing the skin in the process.

Before Y/N could look down at the damage, another Talon wrapped his hand around her neck and lifted her off the ground like a doll.

“How can such a weak and pathetic woman have caused such a nuisance?” He cooed at her as he tilted his head, inspecting her.

Y/N couldn’t reply even if she wanted to.

Her hands were frantically trying to free herself, nails ripping at the armor and gloves of the Talon.

“Perhaps she could be of use to us,” one of them spoke up. “Unless she’d rather die…”

But before they could drop her or make a decision, someone dropped into the middle of the chaos with a blur.

Next thing Y/N knew, she was being dropped to the ground and coughing to recover her breath.

When she looked up, she saw Dick – no, Nightwing – taking on all of the Talons who were sent to kill her.

Yes, Y/N had frequently seen Dick train with Bruce and his brothers. However, this was something entirely different.

Y/N watched in shock as Dick used his escrima sticks to take out the Talons in droves. He flipped, kicked, punched, and moved in a way Y/N had never seen before.

There was a moment of pause that gave him the opportunity to meet her gaze.

“Y/N, run!” Dick screamed as he flipped away from the deadly claws of a Talon.

She blinked at his command and snapped out of her daze.

Jumping to her feet, she did as he said.

But she only got a few yards before two more Talons dropped in front of her and blocked her path.

Her fear was interrupted by bullets raining on them seconds before a motorcycle flew into her peripheral.

Red Hood did a front wheel break and swung his motorcycle so precisely that he managed to take out both of the Talons with the backend of his bike.  

He turned to look at her. “Get on.”

But Y/N looked behind her at Dick, who was fighting Talon after Talon.

“What about Di–” she stopped herself from using his name. “What about Nightwing?!”

“Batman is on his way with the others. But right now, we have to get you out of here,” Jason yelled back.

Right on cue, the Batmobile came screaming toward them, as well as Tim on his motorcycle.

“Y/N, get on the motherfucking bike,” Jason warned her.

She turned around again and saw Dick now being aided by Damian, Tim, and Bruce. They were finally starting to overpower the Talons.

Clearly they hadn’t sent the numbers to defend themselves against the entire bat family. They probably assumed Y/N would head their warning and arrive unaccompanied. And Y/N did. But both her and The Court underestimated the vigilante family’s protectiveness towards her.

Y/N finally listened to Jason and jumped on the back of his motorcycle.

Barely giving her a second to adjust, Jason floored it and sped away from the fight as quickly as possible.

This motorcycle ride was nothing like the one Y/N shared with Dick.

Jason rode like bat out of hell, whipping around tight corners without slowing down. And even with her vice-like grip around his waist, Y/N felt like she could fly off at any moment. The wind stung against her skin like a million little needles.

“Where are we going?” Y/N tried to scream to him.

“We have to make sure they’re not tracking us before we return to the cave!”

Y/N couldn’t tell how long they had been driving around. But her arms and muscles were sore from the tension of holding on for dear life. She was so exhausted that if she hadn’t been so scared, she probably could’ve fallen asleep on the back of Jason’s motorcycle – even with his reckless driving.

Without any warning, Jason veered into a parking garage and went to the basement level where no cars were parked. He must’ve pressed a button because a hidden compartment was opening against the cement wall and suddenly they were driving through it.

Y/N got off the bike as soon as he stopped and looked around.

It must be one of his safehouses.

To her surprise, Jason took off his Red Hood helmet and then the domino mask underneath. He also grabbed some clothes that would either cover his Red Hood uniform or make it look like civilian clothing.

He pointed to a car, “Come on.”

Y/N followed him silently and got into the passenger seat.

It was a 20 minute ride back to the manor.

And it finally gave Y/N time to actually process what she had planned to do tonight. 

“Wanna talk about it?” Jason asked after 10 minutes of silence.

“And say what?” She challenged.

He smirked. “I don’t know. Maybe how you enjoy playing sacrificial lamb.”

Y/N ground her teeth together. “That’s oversimplifying it, and you know it.”

Jason just shrugged.

“That’s it?” She asked when he didn’t follow up with any more questions. “Really? You’re not going to start lecturing me?”

“Oh, definitely not. ‘Cause you’re gonna get a shit ton of that when Bruce sees you – maybe even from Dick, if he’s not too overwhelmed with relief from seeing you in one piece. Which, by the way, you’re very lucky to be.”

Y/N had no response to that.

The rest of the ride was quiet, except for the local classic rock radio station that Jason decided to turn on.

To their surprise, no one was waiting in the cave for them. But Dick and Tim’s motorcycles were parked, as well as the batmobile. So they had clearly returned.

“That might not be a great sign…” Jason mumbled as got out of his civilian car. “Come on,” he nudged with his head as he started making his way to the stairs that led back into the manor.

When they got up, Jason followed the sounds of voices coming from the kitchen.

Y/N’s eyes immediately took in the group, worried that someone would be missing.

No one was in full uniform. Tim and Damian were in sweats. Bruce’s cape and cowl were gone, but his full body armor was still on.

The three of them and Alfred were all gathered around Dick, who was sitting on the island counter shirtless with nothing but his black compression shorts on.

One of his left eye was black, there was dried blood below his nostrils, his bottom lip was split and swollen. But Y/N’s eyes were only looking at the wound on his side that Alfred was currently stitching. Clearly one of the Talons’ swords found an in.

When the family heard Jason and Y/N’s entrance, all eyes were on them.

Dick looked relieved.

But Bruce? He looked livid.

“What the hell were you thinking?”

He didn’t yell. No, instead his voice was low and even. And it scared Y/N more than yelling ever could.

But she was too busy looking at Dick’s injuries with concern.

Then her gaze raced to Tim and Damian, looking them up and down to try and assess if they had any injuries. But they seemed in good shape.

“Y/N!” Bruce snapped.

Finally she acknowledged him. 

“What?!” She growled in return.

“What were you thinking?”

“Bruce…” Dick warned quietly.

They had all seen Bruce get this way. And they all unfortunately had been on the other side of his wrath. They could see the telltale signs that Bruce was about to give one of his level-headed, but extremely disappointed speeches.

Except there was one big difference this time: Y/N wasn’t one of Bruce’s kids.

And by now, all of the boys had figured out that Bruce was feeling some kind of way about her. Even Damian had finally realized that Y/N wasn’t just an ally or fellow vigilante to his father.

“How about we all take in a deep breath and appreciate that none of us are dead?” Jason asked the group loudly. “Because we know that hasn’t always been on the case in the past…”

But Bruce ignored Jason and took a step to Y/N.

“You could’ve been killed,” he muttered quickly.

“I was trying to save innocent lives!” Y/N snapped.

“You should’ve told us as soon as you received the threat,” he countered.

“Why? So you could sideline me and make decisions about my fucking life?”

“We would have come up with a plan. One that did not involve you hot-wiring a car and driving to your death.”

“I was trying not to endanger anyone else, meaning all five of you!”

“And look how that ended,” Bruce answered darkly as she gesture to Dick, who was now stitched up and Alfred was putting a wrap around his torso.

“You can’t just shove your way into my life whenever you feel like it!” Y/N finally shouted at Bruce. “I was doing just fine before you added yourself to the situation.”

This wasn’t just about tonight anymore. The tension in their relationship had now flooded into the argument, finally reaching its boiling point.

“Tonight proved otherwise,” Bruce told her evenly.

But Bruce remaining too calm and showing no emotional reaction was only infuriating Y/N more.

“Hey!” Y/N yelled. “Just because I don’t put on a stupid costume and punch my way out of problems doesn’t mean you’re better than me. In fact, you would be screwed if it weren’t for me. You need me. You need me more than I need you.”

Bruce just glared at her.

“What? Nothing to say?”

“We can have a discussion when you stop behaving like a child.”

And it was finally what made Y/N snap.

She lunged at him.

What she planned on doing to him was beyond her. Everyone, including herself, knew she didn’t stand a chance against a petty fight with Batman. She probably couldn’t even land a punch if he let her.

Thankfully, she would never have to get that proven to her. Because Dick put a stop to it before it could actually start.

When he had moved off the counter and closer to their argument, she didn’t know.

But now Dick was finally intervening as he wrapped his arms around Y/N from behind her, pinning her arms to her side and pressing her back to his chest.

“A child?!” Y/N screamed as she tried to fight her way out of Dick’s grip. “Should I remind you that you fucked this ‘child’?!”

“Alright,” Dick warned her calmly. “That’s enough.”

“Let go of me!”

“Calm down,” he told her quietly.

Suddenly, Y/N remembered that Dick was injured, and he was injured because of her. And now she was thrashing against him, probably causing him harm and putting him at risk of opening the stitches Alfred had just finished.

“Fine,” she huffed. “I’m calm.”

But Dick waited a second or two before he decided to believe her.

When he let go, she lightly shoved him away from her and made her escape.

The whole family watched her leave, and felt the awkward tension that filled the room after she’d gone.

Tim looked shocked.

Jason glared at Bruce.

Damian seemed rather disappointed – in Y/N or his father, no one could figure out.

Dick eyed Bruce. “Great job,” he told him darkly.

Bruce just crossed this arms and sighed.

Dick gestured in the direction that Y/N went. “Aren’t you going to go after her?”

But he knew already from Bruce’s expression that he wasn’t going to anything of the sort.

“You know what, forget it.” Dick huffed before heading in the general direction that Y/N had escaped.

But Jason wasn’t going to let Bruce off the hook so easily.

“What the fuck is the matter with you?” He hissed.

“Stay out of it, Jason.”

“Stay out of it?” He mocked. “Yeah, it’s a little bit hard to do that when her safety has become a family matter.” Jason shook his head in disappointment and turned to leave, “I’m out of here.”

-----------

When Dick tried to retrace Y/N’s steps, he found the front door of the manor wide open. The sight was rather eerie for some reason. But Dick stepped onto the front of the manor and looked out at the land.

Had she made a run for the gate?

It wouldn’t be the first time tonight, clearly.

But after a few scans of the property, he eventually found her.

Despite the circumstances, Dick couldn’t help but smirk when he found Y/N sprawled on the great lawn of the manor, laying on her back and staring up at the stars.

He stood over her. “I’m surprised you didn’t make a run for it.”

“Oh, I tried,” she told him matter of factly. “Bastard’s already updated the security system from earlier tonight.”

“Believe it or not, that’s his way of saying he cares. Just ask Damian.” He slowly sat down on the lawn with her, but made sure to still give her some space.

“No. It’s his way of reminding me that he’s the one in control.”

Dick winced, knowing there was probably truth to that, too.

“He shouldn’t have said that to you,” Dick sighed.

Y/N scoffed. “What part?”  

He hesitated before clarifying. “You’re not a child.”

She went quiet, not expecting him to get right to it.

“Well, we’re the same age…so of course you’d say that.”

Dick rubbed his face, knowing this was a losing battle. Nothing he said on the matter would bring her comfort.

Y/N finally looked away from the stars and her face scrunched in guilt and worry as she took in Dick’s fresh bandage. There was a pinkish blotch that showed just how big the wound was.

Slowly she sat up and turned to him. “Are you okay?” She whispered shakily.

He grinned at her concern. “Believe it or not, this is nothing.”

But Y/N still reached forward and cupped his face. Her thumb traced around his black eye, but made sure not to put any pressure on the swollen skin.

Dick leaned into her touch, not bothering to try and hide the affection.

“This is exactly what I didn’t want,” Y/N mumbled.

Dick opened his mouth, but then quickly changed his mind and closed it again.

“What?” She pushed.

But before Dick would answer, he slowly moved into her space. Then he pressed his forehead to hers.

“Please, don’t do anything like that again.”

His approach was different, but it was clear Dick and Bruce felt the same way about the stunt she had pulled. 

Y/N was quiet.

“I understand why you did it. I really do.” He added quickly. “But just…” He paused and took in a shaky inhale. “Tonight scared the hell out of me, Y/N.”

“I’m sorry,” Y/N whispered.  

“I know you are. I saw it on your face as soon as you saw my injuries.” His eyes went dark. “But we can’t do things like that. We have to work together or this is all going to explode in our faces.”

Y/N thought over his words.

His hands went to cup her face.

“Deal?” He pushed.

She nodded.

Then Dick’s eyes moved down to her throat.The blistering red was already fading and being replaced by purple and blue bruising.

His mind flashed back to earlier, how he saw her dangling by her throat and unable to escape the Talon’s grip. The sight had caused him to rush into battle, not thinking of a plan before doing so. It went against everything Bruce had taught him. But seeing Y/N’s life in danger made him black out.

“We should get some ice for your neck,” Dick muttered quietly.

Then he looked down at her hand. It had stopped bleeding, but the cut looked painful and there was dried blood surrounding it.

“Fucker sliced it when he knocked my gun out of my hand,” Y/N mumbled when she saw Dick staring at it.

He eyed her suspiciously. “And I suppose Jason’s been helping with that, huh?”

She cringed. “Maybe…”

Dick just huffed and shook his head.

He started getting up, “Come on. Let me clean that cut and get some ice for your neck.”

But Y/N pulled him back down.

“Wait. Can we…Can we just stay for a bit?” She asked quietly, and then pointed up and laid back down in the grass to stare up at the sky.

Dick smirked and nodded.

He joined her, moving closer this time so their shoulders touched.

“You can actually see the stars out here,” Y/N sighed.

The smog and city lights of Gotham made them invisible.

But now they were far enough to see a few.

Dick thought about all the places he used to travel to with the circus. Some of them were so far removed from society that he could see every single star at night.

But he didn’t tell Y/N that this was nothing compared to those places.

Instead, Dick just slowly moved his hand and grabbed Y/Ns, interlacing their fingers. A part of him expected her to pull away. But she squeezed his hand and kept looking up.

—

Alfred found Bruce in the library, looking out the windows.

When he joined his side, he saw what Bruce was looking at: Dick and Y/N laying on the grass of the great lawn, stargazing.

“You’re disappointed in me,” Bruce said without taking his eyes off the two.

“I said nothing of the sort, Master Wayne.”

Bruce frowned. “You don’t have to.”

“She is not another charge, Master Wayne.” Alfred sighed. “Therefore you should not treat her as such.”

“I’m trying to keep her safe.”

“Why do you think she said nothing of the threat?” Alfred countered. “Why do you think she did not believe she could trust you?”

Bruce said nothing.

“You put the safety of Gotham over your own life every night, Master Wayne.” Alfred continued. “Yet you are so spiteful towards others who do the same.”

That finally made Bruce turn away from the window to look at Alfred.

“You owe her an apology,” Alfred finally confirmed. “Even if Master Dick has become rather good at cleaning up your messes.” 

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

Part 7

Let me know what you think – please, please, please.  

[hangovercurse]

The Things We Can’t Tell Pete about ix

Pete finds out about you and Colson

Colson X Reader

Warnings: Cursing, slut-shaming, sibling fighting

A/N: It’s done! Thank you all for reading this far, hope it’s lived up to expectations.

A/N 2: This is modeled after the (many) fights I’ve had with my siblings 😊

Word Count: 2277

| i | ii | iii | iv | v | vi | vii | viii |  

“Just promise me that we tell him soon, okay?”

2 months later

Things had been going steadily with Colson since that first night he spent in your apartment. You’d honestly never felt happier in a relationship, except for the nagging fact that you still hadn’t told Pete. Every time Colson would ask about it, you’d feed him the same line, “I’m just not ready to handle that yet.”

You could tell he was tired of the sneaking around and the same old excuse, but you truthfully weren’t sure what the outcome would be. If Pete was going to be mad at you, you might as well enjoy what you had until then.

And were you enjoying it. You and Colson both had to admit that sneaking around everyone was thrilling. A few weeks into your relationship, he’d brought you on set of one of his music videos to “show you the process.” The process, it turns out, was hooking up in a side room while the crew was on lunch break.

You knew it would be so much better if you could be honest about your relationship. If you could go out on dates publicly or post the cute pictures you take of him on your Instagram, or literally anything a normal couple could do. But for now, you were happy.

Last night, Colson had come over with takeout and a bottle of champagne, setting up a picnic on the floor of your living room. You talked and kissed while different movies played in the background, the bubbly starting to get to your head. You almost let three very important words slip out, but somewhere deep in your brain, common sense still lingered.

You knew you loved him, but you didn’t want to pressure him into saying anything he wasn’t ready for. You wanted him to take the first step. So, you didn’t say anything. Instead, you let the night carry into morning, waking up to a loud knock on your door.

There was no part of you that was about to get up and open the door, so you just snuggled further into Colson and closed your eyes. But then, the lock clicked and the handle squeaked through the small apartment.

Your entire body was immediately on high alert, shaking Colson to wake him up. His tired eyes opened, finding you and shifting to immediate confusion. He opened his mouth to say something before he was interrupted by the voice of the intruder,

“Hey Y/N, mom wanted me to pick up the-“ The door of your bedroom opened, revealing a stunned Pete. His eyes shifted from you to Colson, and then back to you. He let out a scoff, shaking his head and leaving the room.

You sighed, jumping out of bed and throwing on the closest shirt, that just so happened to belong to Colson. “Pete!” You ran out of the room, grabbing onto his arm and stopping him from leaving, “please jus-“

“You are the most manipulative bitch I have ever met, and I’ve met a lot.” His voice was dark, furious. Your mind was running a mile a minute to figure out how to explain everything. “I asked you for one simple thing, and you can’t even fucking do that?”

Tears began to flood behind your eyes, panic taking over your body. You were already on edge from the earlier fear of someone being in your house, and you were incredibly tired. So combined with Pete yelling at you, even if you did deserve it, it was enough to send you into a spiral of negative thoughts and anger. “If you would act fucking rational when I tried to talk to you about it, maybe you would know that it wasn’t so simple!”

Pete chuckled, “right, sorry. I forgot that you’re a slut who can’t keep her fucking legs closed.”

His words hit you like a thousand punches, so much so that you physically took a step backwards. He took no notice, continuing to pour all his anger out on you. “And you’re a fucking liar. How long have you been whoring around with him? Because if I were to guess, it’d be a couple months by now, right?”

Colson, who was standing by the door to your room, not quite sure what to do with himself, spoke up, “Pete, st-“

“How many of my other friends have you been fucking?” Pete ignored his friend, eyes still seeing red and focusing on you. “I mean, seriously, what is this? Did I do something wrong? Did you want to hurt me? Is this you getting back at me for something, by fucking around with my friends?”

Tears were falling freely from your eyes, embarrassment and hurt coursing through your veins. “You always make everything about you, Pete. You never fucking consider anyone else except your goddamn self.”

You shoved his chest harshly, turning and walking towards your bedroom. You pushed past Colson, who tried to comfort you, slamming the door behind you. You sat on the bed and let everything weigh down on you, Pete’s words ringing in your ears. Part of you was angry with him, telling you that he was in the wrong. But another part of you was angry at yourself for not being a good sister.

Outside the door, Pete had turned his anger towards Colson. “Get out.” Your boyfriend had tried to talk reason with Pete, but your brother was having none of it. “You are not my fucking friend, okay? Not anymore.”

“Pete, you’re being ridiculous, ju-“

“I’m not being fucking ridiculous!” Pete yelled, “that’s my fucking sister. You could fuck anyone else in the goddamn world and you chose to fuck my little sister? That’s fucked, dude.”

Colson was overcome by the urge to defend your relationship, “I fucking love her, Pete. Okay? Goddamn.” For the first time since Pete walked out of your room, he was quiet. “Do you think I would risk my entire relationship with you for some fuck? Do you think she would?”

He didn’t wait for a response, instead turning and walking into your room. The sight of you curled up, knees to your chest, made Colson’s heart break. He climbed on the bed behind you, back to the headboard, and pulled you into his lap. He could feel your body shake with every sob, so he just held you tightly in his arms.

When he could feel you physically start to calm down, he whispered gently, “I love you.”

You’d always hoped whenever you heard those words from him, you’d feel relieved, knowing your relationship was as real to him as it was to you. But right now you were only filled with dread. You didn’t want him to love you, because it made everything seem so much worse. How had you let it get this far?

Before you could respond, Colson continued, “I love you, but I can’t stay with you.” You leaned further into his chest, staring blankly ahead of you. “I want you to be happy, and you won’t be if you lose Pete.”

Your lip quivered as you whispered out, “I love you too.”

Colson sighed, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, before moving to climb out of the bed. Tears blurred your vision as you watched him walk out of the room. Him leaving only made you fall even more in love with him, which hurt like a bitch.

When Colson came into view of Pete, the younger man studied him, but not in anger. “Did you really mean that?”

Colson sighed, “that I love her? Yeah, I do.” Pete was sat on the couch, rubbing his hands over his face to try and calm himself down. “But I’m not about to let you ruin your relationship with her over me. So, if you want me gone, I’m gone.”

Pete was silent for a few moments, and Colson could feel his own heartbeat slowing down, the thought of losing you for good finally hitting him. “How long?”

The older man sat on the other side of the couch, elbows on his knees, “It’s complicated. I asked her out the day after we met but then I broke it off like a week later when you guys got in that fight about it.” Pete nodded to confirm he remembered, “then we tried the whole “friends” thing for like a month, but it obviously didn’t work. Then two months later, here we are.”

Pete was staring blankly at the black TV screen in front of him, absorbing the blonde’s words. “Why didn’t you guys just tell me?” Pete’s voice was weak, guilt and regret slowly sinking into his system.

Colson hung his head, “because she wanted to put this off as long as possible, I think. I tried to get her to talk to you about it but she wasn’t ready. I don’t think I was either, truthfully. I figured once you knew, if it were as bad as she thought it would be, I would lose her.”

“You would really leave if it meant keeping her and me from fighting?” Colson could feel his heart stop at Pete’s words, the expected heartbreak on the horizon.

“If it meant she was happy, yeah.”

Pete rested his head in his hands, sighing deeply, “I’m an asshole.”

This took Colson by surprise, as it was not the response he was expecting. He thought he’d be thrown out immediately. “What do you mean?”

“We have this rule that we don’t fuck each other’s friends because then someone gets hurt and one of us would probably lose a friend. So, I flipped out when she brought it up because I really didn’t want to be put in that situation.” Pete paused, looking up to his friend, “But obviously you’re serious about her and you make her happy.”

Colson replied sincerely, “you know I’m never gonna hurt her, right?”

“I’ll kill you if you do, best friend or not.”

“That’s fair.”

The two men sat in silence for a while before they broke out into laughter, Pete reaching over to shove Colson’s shoulder, “I’m sorry for being a dick.”

Colson nodded, laughing it off, “I’m not the one you need to apologize to.”

Pete knocked on your door lightly, not waiting for a response before slowly walking in. You hadn’t moved since Colson left; your eyes still blankly focused on the wall in front of you. He sat down beside you and pulled you into his side, head resting on his shoulder. “I didn’t mean any of that,” his voice was hushed but sincere. “I was hurt and confused and I said things in the moment that I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry.”

You shrugged, “you don’t have to apologize. I deserved it.” When you spoke, your voice was flat, void of all emotion. Just how you felt.

Pete sighed, “no, you didn’t. You tried to talk to me about it months ago and I blew up on you. I can’t blame you for not telling me.”

“It’s fine Pete, it’s over anyways.” You wanted to scream at yourself for falling too easily and at him for making assumptions, but you couldn’t find the strength. “It was more than just sex though, Pete.”

“I know, I was being an asshole.” He squeezed you closer into his side, “I should’ve realized you wouldn’t hook up with one of my friends unless it was serious.”

You whispered, “I didn’t mean for it to get this far.” Your voice was strained, “I wanted to tell you but I knew when you found out that you’d get mad and then something like this would happen. But I really fucking liked him, I just wanted to hold onto it while I could.”

“I was mad. Dude, I was pissed when I walked in.” Pete could feel you tense up at his words, “but you’re my sister and he’s my best friend. I just want you guys to be happy. And I might not like it, but he makes you happy.”

You sighed in relief, “you know I would never try to hurt you, right? Like I didn’t do this to make you mad or put you in a weird spot. It just kind of happened.”

Pete chuckled, “yeah, I know. And I’m sorry for saying all that shit. I was mad, you know how I get.”

You rolled your eyes, “you mean I know that you’re crazy? Yes, I am very aware.”

He shoved your shoulder lightly, the two of you sitting in comfortable silence for a moment before he broke it. “If you two make me third wheel, I swear I’ll kill you both.”

“Have you two met yourselves? I feel like I’m third wheeling you guys when we all hang out,” you giggled, climbing out of the bed. “I think you owe me sushi now.”

Pete gave you a very confused expression, “you snuck around with my best friend behind my back. If anything, you ow me sushi.”

“You called me a slut and a bitch. And you embarrassed me in front of my boyfriend.” You said matter-of-factly, a small smile on your face to let Pete know you’d already started to get over it.

He rolled his eyes, getting up and moving to the living room, “that just makes us even.”

“I’m suing you for emotional damages.” You joked as you followed him, sitting on the couch next to Colson, leaning into him, “the court has determined you owe me sushi.”

Colson looked between you both, confused, “so, you two are good now?” Pete and you nodded, smiling. “Siblings are fuckin’ weird, man.”

Tag list @corpse-babe @sesamepancakes

[athenadione]

‘you are mine (and I am yours)’

In which you can find out the hard way that demons don't like sharing. @vi-la-vi

AthenaDione and I did a thing! Everyone loves jealous Damian, but hear us out....jealous Raven? Hope you enjoy! -Vi

I’m so incredibly honored to participate in this collab. Vi practically paved the way for me to give you all the delicious demon Raven smut that ensues and did a superb job writing the majority of this piece, as always. If you enjoy and feel so inclined, you can leave a kudos HERE on A03. Vi— thank you for allowing me to be a part of your writing process. You’re such a talented writer and I’m happy to have found you :) -AD

She couldn’t stop staring at him. Not just because it had been years since she last saw him, but because ever since she met him, Anna Vandergilt had thought of little else. 

Damian Wayne. 

They’d met at a benefit when both were sixteen years old, and it had been love at first sight. The elusive heir finally returned to Gotham after five years abroad, doing god knows what. She’d collected every bit of information she could about him, academic transcripts, tabloids, medical and legal records. Vandergilt influence ran deep and she had no compunction about using it to fuel her obsession. Securing an internship at Wayne Enterprises as Tim Drake’s assistant was just the latest step.

And now he’s here, and I won’t let him get away again. 

Damian had to remember her, the spark when their eyes met, the unbreakable connection they’d made. He didn’t acknowledge it when they were introduced, but that was fine. He was an intense, secretive man and likely just didn’t want to make a scene. 

Green eyes flashed to hers and narrowed, catching her staring. She willed herself to keep it together, sitting up straighter and crossing her legs in an attempt to draw his attention to the slit in her pencil skirt. Blonde-haired, blue-eyed, and leggy, she knew how to make men stare.

Or so she thought. Damian had turned his attention back to Tim’s presentation, arms crossed and expression impatient. So serious. She planned ways she might be able to get him alone, with no one and nothing to distract him from her. After today, I’ll have more than just fantasies. She’d been looking for an opening to approach him all day and was sure she couldn’t wait much longer.

They broke for lunch, but just as she moved towards him she was intercepted by Tim. 

“Hey Anna, can you run up to my office and grab my blue flash drive? I forgot to bring it down earlier.”

Get it yourself! she wanted to snap. An assistant position was well beneath her pedigree, and she hated taking instructions from common-born Tim Drake. Swallowing her irritation, she smiled and nodded. 

When she finally returned, Damian had already gone, apparently having had a lunch appointment with someone else. Anna sighed. I’ll speak to him after work, I’m sure he wouldn’t say no to dinner and drinks. No man had ever refused her.

She spied him later as she was returning to the conference room, speaking to a dark-haired woman she didn’t know outside of his office. She took a moment to admire him in his suit, noting curiously that the girl with him was only casually dressed in black jeans and an off-shoulder top with a band logo. Unprofessional much? He’s probably scolding her about the dress code.

Just as the thought solidified, she leaned up and pressed a kiss to the underside of Damian’s jaw, tugging his tie playfully as she did so.  

It was as though a bucket of freezing water had been dumped over her head. Anna stood stock-still, mouth falling open in horror. Who the fuck...how dare…?

The woman whispered something in his ear, kissing his jaw again as Damian rolled his eyes and smirked. She continued to stare, waiting for him to shove her away, glare, do something. She heard someone approach from behind. 

“Ugh, those two,” Tim groaned. 

“Who is that?” Her voice was tight and strained, and the man next to her gave her a curious glance. 

“That’s Rachel, Damian’s girlfriend.”

“Oh,” she said, at a loss for anything else. 

It’s not fair. I planned...I’ve been waiting…

She shook her head, determination moving in. A minor setback. He just needs to know there’s something better on the market. Vandergilts were practically royalty, after all. Her beauty and breeding were no doubt superior. She bit back her anger as Damian dropped a kiss on the other woman’s forehead before walking away.

Just a minor setback, she mentally repeated.

-

Tim’s assistant had a serious staring problem, and Damian was relieved when he was finally able to retire to his office. Annoying. The older man had joked earlier that Damian’s constant absence in Gotham and avoidance of the public eye elevated him to mythical status among some of his father’s employees. He longed for this week to end, eager to be back in Jump and away from the Wayne gawkers. 

His phone buzzed, distracting him from the revenue charts in front of him. 

“Stephanie is insane.”

Damian smiled, eyes darting to his watch to see how much longer he’d be stuck in this office. As necessary as it was that he be here for the audit, he felt bad abandoning Raven to his siblings. Next time they came to Gotham he’d make sure it was purely recreational and personally show her the sights.

“A half hour more, then I will come rescue you.”

Then two days more, and they would be home. 

A knock on the door called his attention. “Mr. Wayne? Could I borrow you for a moment. I need a second pair of eyes on this file.”

He looked up, raising an eyebrow at the worshipful expression on her face. The scent of expensive perfume assailed him and Damian fought the urge to wrinkle his nose. She looked at him hopefully, blinking rapidly.

“Ask Drake.”

She shifted, reaching up to toy with her platinum blonde hair. “Oh...he just has so much on his plate. I wanted to avoid bothering him,” she replied, voice high and lilting. 

Strange woman. Damian wondered where his older brother had found this one. He hadn’t really been paying attention when they were introduced, Vander-something or other.

He sighed. “Fine.”

“Oh, thank you,” she breathed.

She circled around the desk to stand next to him, laying the file in front of him and bending low. A fall of blonde hair brushed his shoulder and Damian shifted slightly to put some distance between them. He spent so little time in normal society it was easy to forget how bad most people were with personal space. 

“What exactly did you need help with?”

“This.”

Without warning, she sat on his lap and pressed her lips forcefully against his, throwing one arm around his neck for good measure. Damian completely froze, protests firing rapidly through his mind. She tugged on the waistband of his pants and it was enough to break his paralysis. He shoved her off of him violently and she caught herself on the desk, shifting it several inches back.

“What are you doing?!”

The alarm on her face lasted only a second before being replaced with a coy smile. “Don’t be shy, I know you remember me. It’s been years, but you’re all I’ve thought about, Damian. I swear.”

“I - don’t…” Damian felt uncharacteristically frazzled. “I have - no. I’m not interested,” he finally managed.

“Please, Damian.” She tried to take a step forward and he instinctively backed away. He hated the way she said his name, he realized distantly.

“I have a girlfriend,” he said, hard edge in his voice. One who would kill you and probably me if she was here right now. Raven did not share.

The woman sniffed. “Her. Don’t be ridiculous, you’re a Wayne. She can’t possibly-”

“Enough.”

He glared fiercely, daring her to try and continue. Tears swam in her blue eyes and Damian felt a touch of relief that he finally managed to get through.

“I...hmph, fine. Keep her on the side if you must. My father had a mistress. Just keep her out of my sight.”

She’s insane. What the fuck kind of vetting process do you have, Drake?

He closed his eyes and exhaled before meeting her watery gaze once again. 

“Listen very carefully. I. Am. Not. Interested. I want you out of this building in the next five minutes or I’ll call security.”

“I - but - we…” She straightened, eyes glassy with disbelief as she tried to compose herself. “I see.”

Damian kept his glare on as she left the room, feeling a headache build behind his eyes. He grabbed his phone again, feeling a pang of guilt when he saw Raven's name, and called his brother.

"I fired your assistant. You're welcome."

"What? Damian, you can't just show up and start firing people!"

"I'll...explain later." Vaguely, and with as few details as I can manage.

The hint of discomfort in his voice must have given him away. "Seriously? No wonder she was staring at you all day.”

"Drop it."

"Alright, alright. Her dad's going to be pissed though, he pushed Bruce for months to take her on here. Sounds like you got your very first stalker."

Well that was a disturbing thought. Damian shook it off. "Just tell him it didn't work out." He didn't want any rumors getting back to Raven if he could help it. 

-

Lying to an empath is easier said than done.

“There’s something you’re not telling me.”

"I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She snorted disbelievingly, eyes glued on the book in her hand. “Why do you feel so guilty?”

“It was a long day. I felt bad for you.” Half-truths were the only semi-effective way he’d found of getting around her lie detector. Normally Damian would smother inconvenient questions with lips, hands, and other parts of him that Raven was always deliciously responsive to, but touching her would have felt wrong right now. She deserved to know the truth before she decided how near she wanted him.

She rolled onto her side then, burrowing down against her pillow and studying him curiously. “You don’t have to spend every second with me, Damian. I’m pretty self-sufficient, in case you haven’t noticed.”

He shrugged, laying back and closing his eyes. “I’ll just be glad to get out of here. People in Gotham are a different breed.”

Raven hummed. “Fine, don’t tell me what’s actually bothering you.” 

With that, she leaned over to kiss him goodnight. Damian flinched at the contact before responding in kind, and pretended he didn’t see the confused look in her eyes. 

“I love you,” he said, focusing the emotion to make sure she felt it as well. 

She closed her eyes, slightly mollified. “I love you, too.”

I'll tell her when we get home, he promised himself. As much as he hated keeping secrets, he knew she was going to be upset and preferred a controlled setting. Damian remembered an incident shortly after they began dating when the ticket-taker at the theater had slipped him her phone number. Raven said nothing at first, but the night ended in a supply closet instead of a screening room.

"I don't share," she whispered dangerously, legs tightening around his hips to draw him in deeper. Red flickered across her purple irises. “You’re mine.”

He smirked at the memory. We never did get to see that movie.

Definitely safer for all involved to wait until they'd left Gotham.

-

Anna stared at her discreetly from the park bench. He’s loyal, that’s all. And I wouldn’t have him any other way.

She grudgingly admitted to herself that the other woman was pretty, if unconventional. Pale purple eyes and dark purple hair - hadn’t anyone told her the punk rock look was out of date? She had nothing on the blonde’s classical beauty.

A hefty bribe to the Wayne's chauffeur had given her knowledge of the woman's - Rachel's - movements throughout the day. She was ordinarily accompanied by Tim's banshee of a girlfriend and one of Bruce's orphans, but had separated from them earlier in the day to visit Gotham’s Arts District. Anna waited until she saw her enter the nearly empty arboretum before making her move. If Damian couldn’t be persuaded to break things off, this one could. An affair with the office hottie - tale as old as time.

“Pardon me?” She adopted a nervous affect as she approached, eyes downcast. “You’re Rachel, right?”

The other woman tore her gaze from the plaque in front of her, violet eyes locking on baby blue. “Do I know you?”

“Anna. I work - worked at Wayne Enterprises. I’m really sorry to do this, but...there’s something you need to know.”

She regarded her silently and the blonde fought the urge to fidget. There's something off about her. What were you thinking, Damian? Finally, Rachel nodded once, crossing her arms. Anna smiled internally and fiddled anxiously with her hands, doing her best to look miserable.

“I was Tim’s assistant until Damian fired me yesterday,” she began, voice weepy. “Tim’s the one who told me about you, I swear I didn’t know before.”

Rachel’s eyes narrowed, something dark and inscrutable flashing in and out of her gaze. “...Excuse me?”

Anna took the low anger in her voice as an encouraging sign and continued. She dropped her eyes again and let out a harsh sob. “I’m not the kind of person who fools around with other women’s boyfriends, and-"

A massive burst of black and red interrupted her thoughtfully planned speech, demolishing the stone plaque next to them and knocking her to the ground. She screamed, covering her head  with her arms. A bomb? What’s happening?

Before she could get her bearings, something hauled her up by the throat, slamming her painfully against a tree. She blinked against the white spots in her vision and the dust in the air, squinting to see what held her. 

Four slitted golden eyes met her own, radiating fury so thick she could almost taste it. I’m seeing things. I hit my head and I’m seeing things. The devil tightened its hold on her neck and stepped closer, heat pouring off its red skin. Terrified beyond anything she’d ever felt, Anna felt her bladder let go. 

“Did you fuck Damian?” it - she - asked in a deadly calm voice.

“Wh-what?” she croaked. No way...what the fuck is she?!

“Answer, mortal.”

She sobbed in her grasp, all her carefully crafted lies flying away in the wake of her terror. “No! I just kissed him!”

The claws (claws?!) around her neck tightened and she felt warm trickles of blood start to seep down into her collar. 

“That - that’s all! That’s all I did! I’m sorry!” she cried, “I’m so sorry! It won’t happen again!”

“I know.”

Shadows wrapped around the two of them and she screamed.

-

Stupid, stupid woman, Damian thought furiously, raising his eyes from the weeping figure on the floor. He’d put it together fairly quickly after walking in the door, and was currently kicking himself for not considering this possibility. She’s clearly deranged, I shouldn’t be surprised she approached Raven.

The woman in question sat in a nearby armchair, looking every bit the queen of hell she was. Her demonic appearance and the regal way she carried herself in this form lent their mundane bedroom at Wayne Manor the feel of some macabre court.

“Something to confess?” his demoness asked lowly. 

“I was going to tell you when we returned home. This is the exact situation I was trying to avoid.” Sparks of black and red magic at her fingertips told him that was the wrong thing to say. 

“You think a couple hundred miles would have saved her from me when I found out? I would cross entire universes.”

The woman before her seemed to curl in further on herself, as if trying to become a smaller target. Prayers fell from her lips, whispered and unintelligible.

 “She’s not worth it. I would have made you see that.”

“That’s not your decision to make. You are mine, this was a challenge to me. A proper demon would have brought just the head.”

A loud wail met her words and golden eyes flicked downwards, oozing contempt. Damian felt a thrill race down his spine. He'd never seen her this angry - possessive. The idea that he was the catalyst, that his composed, serene Raven was burning so brightly over a stolen kiss made his blood tingle. 

Apparently feeling the weight of the demon’s stare, she covered her head with her hands and tried to choke back her cries. A prey-like instinct to hide taking root. 

He swallowed before speaking, mindful of the thin ice he was on. “I know you’re upset, but you can’t kill her.”

An amused sound escaped her, and Damian wasn’t entirely sure how to interpret it. “Beloved?”

She finally met his eyes again, clearly unhappy with the situation. “Fine. But if I ever see or sense this creature near you again, I will tear her apart slowly. Testor ego eam.”

With that, she waved a hand and the other woman vanished in a rush of black. He didn’t bother to ask where, not wanting to push his luck with Raven right now. Hysterical as the other woman was, no one would believe anything she had to say anyways. 

The demoness crossed her arms, studying him silently. She seemed to have no intention of changing back to her human form. Oh. 

“I suppose I’m in trouble as well?”

“Lies deserve punishment. And you need to be reminded who you belong to.”

“You, habibti. Always.”

Her smile offered nothing but trouble and his heart started to pick up. "That’s a start."

“Oh?” he asked her, not moving from the spot where he stood. It seemed that court was still in session, and her final judgement on his own transgressions had not yet passed. 

She picked at a claw unhurriedly, hooded eyes flicking over his figure. Not one to back down, he met her appraising stare inch for inch.

“Did you know that demons mate for life?” she asked without warning. 

“No, beloved,” he breathed. The information was new but it hardly mattered. He had already decided that he was going to spend the rest of his life with her long before they ended up together. He just wondered why she felt it necessary to mention now. 

“It’s a sacred bond. Actually sacred, unlike human marriages. Challenging it is the worst insult one demon can deal to another.” Her eyes narrowed, and her claws seemed to sharpen before his eyes.

“She wasn’t a-”

“No one will threaten our bond. Do you understand, mate?”

Dear gods. 

He resisted the urge to lick his lips, instead pressing them firmly together. “You should know that you will never be at risk of losing me, beloved.” 

“I know. I also know you will never lie to me again.” The demoness waved a clawed hand before resting it underneath her chin. She was waiting for him. He swallowed again.

“What can I do to make amends?” 

Her grin widened, boarding on malevolent, as if she finally found the answer she was looking for. Lifting effortlessly from her chair, she began to stride across the room to him with measured steps. 

“I have a few ideas.” She purred. 

“Oh?” he asked again, displeased at how out of breath he sounded. 

Golden eyes held his own, and she didn’t speak again until she was just an arm's length away from him. 

Then she pointed at her feet. “Kneel.” 

He felt his jaw go slack. She wants me to do what? 

She cocked her head at his hesitation. “You will not kneel for your demoness?” She clicked her tongue in distaste. “Don’t you want to remedy your indiscretions?”

He set his jaw, barely suppressing a wince.  When she put it that way, there was no reason not to kneel before her, even if the thought of doing so went against every instinct in his body. He did, after all, lie to her, and if this was what she wanted from him then who was he to deny her?

Besides, there would be an opportunity for her to return the favor. I’ll make sure of it. 

Revealing nothing, he stared at her impassively and slowly dropped to one knee, biting back a scowl as her smirk grew. 

Then, he watched as a slender leg poked out from the slit of the dress she was wearing, and a strappy, black heel. He gave her a simmering look, then took it in his hands without a word, and pressed a kiss to her ankle, trailing up the side of her calf. 

“That’s very nice, mate.” She murmured, resting a clawed hand onto this shoulder. “What else are you willing to do for me?” 

A light smirk replaced his features. She was asking him to seduce her. To fuck her. That was something he would be more than willing to oblige. 

He promptly stood to his feet and grabbed her wrist, pulling him into his chest. To his amused delight, she went pliant in his arms— nearly purring as he captured her lips with his. He kissed her thoroughly, drowning out the memory of the other gods-awful kiss that’d been forced upon him. 

Then a clawed hand traveled his cheek lightly, moving its way to the back of his head. She suddenly grabbed a fistful of his hair and tugged downwards, tearing his lips from hers. He hissed when sharpened teeth latched themselves on his neck, nipping at the exposed flesh there before soothing it with her tongue. 

Then she began to walk forward, forcing him to step with her— until the back of his knees touched the mattress of their bed. 

“Meus es tu.” She said lowly, and she pushed at his chest, sending him backwards.

It turned into a battle for assertion. One that he admitted he thoroughly enjoyed— and intended on winning. 

He took her with him, grabbing her waist to position her underneath. His smile was smug when he peered down into four golden slits, obviously dissatisfied at the turn of events. 

Ignoring her bared teeth, he nudged open her legs with one knee before settling between them, then rolled against her in one swift movement, taking pleasure in the way she threw her head back with a growl. 

He continued his ministrations, trailing hot kisses down her neck, just as she did to his moments before. One hand reached up to graze her breast as his kisses went farther down the middle of her chest, while his other hand roamed over the swell of her hips. 

Raven in turn, was growing more frustrated with every second he kept her distracted with his teasing, light touches. 

“Enough.” It was a command.

By the time he managed to blink he found himself on his back and she was straddling his waist. 

Her hands encased with her dark magic. “Alliges duplicia.”

His arms lit up with her magic and they were forced above his head. When he tried to bring them back down he was met with resistance. What the hell? When he looked up his eyes widened with realization. She bound my fucking hands to the headboard. 

“Raven.” He snarled in warning, tugging on his bonds. The demoness was unperturbed by his outburst. 

“You will submit to me, mate.” A dangerous red swirled in those golden irises, and he clenched his jaw in response, then bit back a groan when she brushed against his length. 

“Let me go.” He glared. 

“I will not. This is your punishment. You will stay like this until you beg for me.”

“Tch.” 

He detested how painfully hard he was. His erection strained against his trousers, and he couldn’t contain his next groan when she palmed him. 

It didn’t matter how much he wished she’d slip her hand underneath his belt. He would not beg. 

She began to strip slowly, until she was completely bare before him, and then she peeled off his pants carefully— and then his shirt. His full erection was on display for her, and he released a strangled noise in the back of his throat when she settled her heated core against him.

She chuckled darkly when he twitched underneath her. “Say please.” 

“No.” he gritted out, breath hitching when her mouth latched onto one of his nipples, nipping roughly. Her tongue flicked it right after, mixing the pain she had caused with pleasure. 

“No?” Her claws wrapped around his throat, squeezing in warning. “You are in no position to deny me, mate.” 

He just glowered.

“Fine.” She relented, retracting her claws. “You will break eventually.” 

Her fingers lifted to her full breasts, reddened from her true form, and her fingers began to tease one darkened nipple into a tight peak. The bonds went taut when he pulled at them roughly in an attempt to reach out to her. She noticed this and smirked as she teased her other nipple, then rocked against him. They groaned together.

He watched as she then slipped one hand down to her core and began to tease herself, parting her folds before slipping a finger inside while grazing against his cock. 

She moaned, mouth parting slightly and he growled again in protest. That should be his fingers inside of her. 

“If you insist on not obeying me, then I will use you for my own pleasure.” She sunk down onto his cock and his head hit the wall with his groan. Fuck, she felt so damned good and the pace she was setting set him on a steady course towards an impending orgasm, regardless of how much he despised not being in control. 

“Beloved.” He growled when she brought him to the brink all too soon, then slowed back down while teasing her clit with her own fingers. Quick, circling motions that revealed her own need to him— that she was nearing her own orgasm. 

He caught her hitched breath. She was losing resolve, caught in her own wave of pleasure. 

“Release me.” He tugged on his bonds again and bucked his hips into her for good measure. “I want to be the one to fuck you when you come.” 

She gasped and clenched around him, drawing him even deeper. “I will come soon. If you want to fuck me, you must beg now.” 

He cursed. Goddamn her. 

“Please, habibti. I am yours.” 

With a victorious smirk, she waved a hand. That smirk was short-lived however, because as soon as the bonds disappeared he lunged for his little demoness, twisting them both before pulling out of her to roll her onto her stomach. 

“You are mine too, Beloved. I will also make sure of that,” he snarled into her ear, teasing his cock at her entrance. His hands held her pressed against the bed. 

The demoness laughed, then inhaled sharply when he pushed into her with one swift movement. They were both right at the edge, only a few more thrusts was all it would take to throw them both over.

“I can feel how close you are,” He reached a hand underneath her to press his thumb directly against her clit, “Come with me, now.” 

She cried out— a sound that was more animalistic than human, and she fluttered around him. He fell shortly after, nearly seeing stars. He continued to thrust languidly, drawing out their orgasms. Vaguely, he watched as Raven’s skin turned from red to flushed ivory. One pair of eyes turned to peer up at him instead of two, and the color of her irises receded to lavender. 

For a moment he watched her transform, breathless. 

She smiled up at him as her breathing returned to normal and he returned it before dropping his face to her neck. “I’m going to have to make you jealous more often,” Damian murmured into her skin. 

Raven snorted, lifting a hand to run through his sweat-soaked hair. “Unwise. Not only will I definitely kill the next one, it will hurt the entire time she is dying.”

“Green is a good color on you, habibti.”

She said nothing, but he could feel her contentment in the gentle run of her fingers across his hair and skin. As post-orgasmic clarity continued to take hold a question popped into his mind and he leaned up to regard her.

“When were you planning on telling me we were essentially demon-married?”

She flushed. “Eventually. Are you...did you not want…?”

He silenced her with a kiss, letting his actions and strength of his emotions answer her question. As though he could ever give this up, or stomach the idea of either of them being with someone else. 

After all, Damian didn’t share either.

[jessikahathaway]

Owner Part VI

I apologize for not updating this one in a while. But it is also cross posted on AO3.org, just under a different name, DreamingCompanion. If I missed anything in the tags please let me know! Love you guys! 

Pairing: Jungkook X Reader

Genre: Romance, Hybrid!AU

Words: 3.8k

Warnings: Penetrative Sex, Unprotected Sex (Kinda she has an IUD), Oral (F receiving), Dirty Talk. 

“What? Have sex with you? Jungkook no!” you gasped out, but your heart was pounding in your chest. Barely able to hold onto the last shred of your sanity.

“Please, it hurts so bad,” he whimpered, reaching out for you desperately. On instinct you reached for him too, taking his wet hand in yours. He was trembling, his body was hot, as if he were on fire. You felt fear trickle down your spine. He looked so genuinely distressed that it made you want to comfort him in any way that you could. 

But that message... Two weeks...

It really was dangerous messing with all of this. Jungkook was no doubt worth millions, but as he sat here in your shower, he looked like a wounded animal, just begging for help. 

How were you supposed to choose?

Could Jungkook even consent in the state that he’s in?

“Jungkook we can’t, you’ll regret this,” you tried to reason away, bringing a towel to his head to dry him off a little bit.

“I won’t!” he denied vehemently. 

“Jungkook.”

“I won’t! I’ve wanted you since you took me in! But you’re always ignoring me, not letting me touch you and it drives me crazy that any man could walk through that door... I want to be the only man that comes home to you, and your food and your smiling face. I want it to me that you touch, no one else,” he growled.

“What has gotten into you?” you asked, eyebrows rising to a height you didn’t think possible. 

“It’s my heat,” he whimpered, head lolling to the side slightly.

“Easy, Jungkook listen to me, what does that mean?” you tried getting out of him.

“My heat is... it’s my... natural breeding time,” he said. 

“So you get this yearly?”

“Yes, but, didn’t think... Didn’t think I could anymore,” he said.

Your heart ached when you thought about his hard past, and everything that he’d done to get to this point right here in front of you. And he was living in your home, your guest. Your... your friend. And you wanted him to be safe and comfortable as long as he could be. And if that meant you were to give a piece of yourself to him you’d never get back...

Then so be it.

He was fading quickly. You had to work faster. 

“Jungkook, Jungkook listen to me,” you said, cradling his face in your hands. 

“Whaa?” he asked, mouth falling open slightly. 

“I’ll do it, let’s go to bed,” you said, reaching for his hand.

Jungkook froze underneath you, making you worry that something bad was going to happen.

“Don’t say that and not mean it, Y/N,” he warned, voice husky and dark. It made a throb of want coarse through your body.

“I mean it, let’s get you out of here and go to bed,” you said softly, encouraging him to stand up. 

Before you could think you were pinned against the floor, Jungkook’s naked frame atop you.

“Y/N,” he whispered, looking at you with such a tenderness you weren’t sure if he wanted to fuck you or snuggle up to you right on the spot.

“This isn’t my bed,” you corrected.

“I don’t care,” he whispered, bringing his lips down to connect with yours. You inhaled sharply through your nose at the sensation of Jungkook’s lips being pressed against yours so firmly. He was warm and soft, yet not ridgid. Pulling away, Jungkook brushed a strand of your hair out of your face.

“Come on, my back is starting to hurt from laying down here,” you said, trying to stand up. Jungkook helped you, but quickly pulled you into his embrace, laying his head in your neck and breathing in deeply.

“You smell so good,” he whimpered, rutting against you lightly. You choked back a groan, this was about Jungkook not you.

“Come over here,” you said, heading towards the bed. 

Jungkook was quick to follow you, making you laugh a little. He pouted but stayed quiet. You sat down on your bed. Jungkook stood in front of you, naked as the day he was born. A blush ravaged your cheeks as you tried to compose yourself. Although Jungkook wasn’t the waiting type it appeared. Coming closer he brought his lips to yours again, hands on either side of your body. He took full control of the kiss, licking and nipping at your lips with a sincerity that could only come from him. Jungkook brought his hand up to your shoulder and pushed you back into a lying position on the bed. You let him lay you down, enjoying the feeling of his lips on yours. 

“Jungkook,” you whispered, this got his attention as he looked at you with concern.

“Is something wrong, d-do you want me to stop?” he asked.

“No, no, keep going... please,” you begged lightly, wanting the man to continue his exploration of your body. 

“Okay, just tell me if it gets to be too much,” he said, hooking his hands under your armpits and hoisting you to the top of the bed. You squeaked out in surprise at his strength, but other than that you tried to remain as calm as you could. Your racing heart not helping in that process. 

Jungkook crawled up to you, body on display as you marveled at him. He was so muscular, but also so lithe and handsome. You couldn’t help but imagine was sex with him would be like. No doubt a passionate affair. Although, you wouldn’t have to imagine much longer the way things were going now. He sniffed all over you, enjoying the way you smelt to him. Sweet like sugar, but warm like a summer day. He wanted all of you, right now. 

As he came up to your face you grabbed him by the cheeks and kissed him passionately, licking his lips and asking for entrance. He opened his mouth and let you explore every inch of him. You took this opportunity to tangle your fingers in his hair. His lush locks felt like silk against your skin, it was so nice. You took a hold of a little clump of hair towards the back of his head and tugged lightly, just to see how he would react. A soft groan came from the man in front of you. 

“Fuck, I love when you play with my hair,” he said, wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you closer. You smiled and continued to play with his long strands of hair. He came closer, kissing your neck gently. You sighed into the sensation and let him do whatever he wanted. He licked and sucked at your throat, making your legs jolt slightly from the sensation. You could feel his smirk on your skin, as he continued to suckle your delicate neck. Jungkook was breathing rather hard, as if he were holding something back.

“Jungkook, you don’t have to hold back with me,” you said. 

Jungkook froze against you, then a small whine pierced the air. 

“But I don’t want to hurt you,” he said quietly. 

“You won’t hurt me, I trust you Jungkook,” you said, cradling his cheek with your palm. 

He looked at you with such emotion you almost thought he was going to cry. 

“I don’t take that lightly, Y/N, I promise I’ll treat you right,” he said.

“I know you will,” you smiled. 

“Do you like being eaten out?” he asked, looking up at you with curiosity twinkling in his lust covered eyes. 

“Um... No one’s ever really done that for me,” you whispered. 

“What?” Jungkook balked, looking at you as if you had a third boob or something. 

“No one’s ever gone down on me before,” you admitted. None of your previous boyfriends were interested in something like that. They just wanted to get to the main course, even if it meant you were a little uncomfortable for the majority of it. 

“That’s criminal, can I? Can I please, Y/N?” he asked, practically begged. 

“Sure, knock yourself out,” you said, moving to pull your shorts down when he stopped you. 

“Allow me,” Jungkook said, taking your shorts off and leaving your panties where they were. You raised a brow at him but he shook his head and laid down on his stomach. You laid back in the pillows and tried to keep yourself under control. His eyes, the way he looked at you. Would you ever be able to let him go after this? It was already excruciating to think about, but now? After you gave him a piece of yourself? 

Jungkook placed a warm kiss to your center, making you breathe in sharply. Jungkook licked over the fabric of your panties softly, as if touching you directly might be too much. It was something else to watch him pleasure you. His focus was turned to one thing only, and you could feel your stomach clench when he nipped at your underwear with a gentle bite. He kept licking, as if he could taste you through your panties, but soon he was using his teeth to pull them off of you. It made your head spin, the look in his eyes, the way he moved and his sounds. He made little whimpering noises as he licked at you, something that turned you on immensely. 

“Jungkook, please,” you whispered, wanting to feel his tongue directly on your center. 

“I’m just taking my time, Y/N, did you want something more?” he asked, a smirk plastered across his face. You frowned slightly, but nodded anyways. 

“I want more,” you agreed, feeling the intoxicating buzz of lust through your veins. Jungkook smiled and finally pulled your panties free of your legs. Looking directly as your soaked center had Jungkook weak in the knees. You looked so beautiful like this, spread out like a five course meal, just for him. 

“I’ll give you what you need, little one,” he promised, coming forward and putting your legs over his shoulders. You waited as he seemed to hone in on you, eyes dilating even more if that was possible. Jungkook seemed as though he were a ravenous beast one minute, then the next a man who wanted to treat you like a queen. The duality was throwing you for a loop, but you held onto the sheets firmly, knowing that you wanted this.

Finally, after what felt like a century, Jungkook’s mouth met your pussy. Jungkook moaned at the taste, you were just as good as he was hoping you’d be. A sharp cry came from your throat before you could stop it. Jungkook jolted in surprise, moving away from you reluctantly. 

“Are you okay?” he asked, rubbing your thigh to comfort you.

“I-I wasn’t expecting it to feel like that, I’m fine, keep going,” you urged, Jungkook nodded and went right back to pleasuring you. His tongue hit you first, the lithe muscle running along your slit in such a manner it had you clenching around nothing. Jungkook was an expert with his mouth, making you writhe in place with his hand on your lower stomach to hold you. But even that was an intimate act, making your body tingle with pleasure. 

Jungkook made a fat lick up your center, making you cry out for him. His hands were gentle, yet firm as he played your body like an instrument. Making music that was for his ears only. Your taste and the way your body felt against his... It was almost like a drug, possibly more potent. Jungkook moved his tongue further against you, slipping down towards your entrance. Gently, he probed at you. You whimpered and whined at the sensation, feeling his wet muscle flexing against your quivering heat. 

“J-Jungkook,” you croaked, looking at him with sparkles in your eyes. 

Something constricted in Jungkook’s chest then. The way you were looking at him, how he’d never seen anything like it before. No one looked at him like that. But your eyes never lied. Not to him. He had to see what you looked like when you came. He needed it, like an addict needed a fix. Listening to your body he moved his tongue up towards your clit, licking harsher against it, and slowly inserting a single finger into your wetness. 

“Ah!” you cried out, looking up at the ceiling. 

“Don’t take your eyes off me, not for a second,” Jungkook warned, smirking as he continued his assault on your womanhood. You looked at him, watching his glistening face in the low light of the bedroom. You could feel the coil of an orgasm forming in the pit of your stomach. You were so close, Jungkook’s finger playing with your insides like a delicate flower. But the way he moaned against your skin made you almost want to faint. Thank God you were laying down. 

“Ah-hah! Jungkook please,” you begged. 

“What do you want? I need your words,” he said, teasing you slowly.

“Please make me cum, Jungkook, please,” you whimpered, wanting the sensation of an orgasm so badly that you could practically taste it. 

“I’ll take care of you,” he said, shoving his finger deep inside of you and sucking on your clit harshly. 

“Ah!” you cried out, gripping the sheets tightly between your fists. 

“Cum all over this bed, Y/N,” he almost begged. 

With those words burned into your mind you let go, cumming all over his finger and mouth. Jungkook cooed at you, whispering how you were so good for him. It made your heart pound and head spin at how badly you wanted him. The orgasm you just had left you aching for more, and Jungkook could tell.

“Not finished yet are we baby?” He asked, smiling at you.

You shook your head. Looking into his eyes, that were sparkling in the low light. A weird twinge in your stomach made you pause, but you didn’t think much of it. There were more pressing matters right now.

“I’m ready Jungkook, if you are,” you said softly.

“Okay, let me just... Condoms, I don’t have any condoms,” he whimpered. 

“I have an IUD, are you clean?” you asked.

“I am,” he answered, truthfully.

“Okay, then what are you waiting for?” 

Jungkook didn’t answer, he just lined himself up with your almost embarrassingly wet center. He smacked your clit with his length a few times, making your hips jolt lightly. A dark chuckle came from him, before he pushed in slowly. The stretch was... significant. You hadn’t had sex in so long, and your previous partners have been less than cordial it appears. Because you had no idea sex could feel like... like this. Soon, Jungkook was bottomed out inside of you. His back arched lightly, face scrunched up in what appeared to be some kind of acute pain but you knew it was pleasure. Jungkook ground against you lightly, rubbing your overstimulated clit with his pelvis. 

“Jungkook,” you breathed out, gripping his shoulders.

“Yeah? Need a second?” he asked.

“Just a little bit,” you said, eyes trailing down his defined chest and down to where the two of you were joined. It sent a pulse of pleasure through you. Making you clench around Jungkook’s hot cock. He moaned at the sensation, dropping his head. 

“Tell me when,” he moaned out. 

You tried to relax your muscles, but you were so full it was hard to think of anything else. Jungkook waited patiently, kissing your neck slowly, up to your lips and kissing you gently. You brought your hands up to his face and brushed away the hair from his forehead. 

Finally, you nodded, and Jungkook almost lost himself. Slowly, he pulled out, making your stomach twinge in discomfort, but when he pushed back in, you felt a rush of pleasure go up your spine. Jungkook hissed in air through his teeth.

“Fuck you’re so tight,” he moaned into the humid air.

“Jungkook,” you whined, gripping his shoulder tightly.

“It’s alright, I’ve got you,” he encouraged, moving forward and pushing his hips to yours again. You felt a wrenched moan escape you as Jungkook pulled out slowly yet again. 

“F-Faster, please,” you begged. Jungkook gazed into your eyes for a moment.

“Are you sure?” he asked, stilling his movements.

“Yes, please go faster,” you felt your tone go higher pitched. And Jungkook seemed to notice your urgency and began to move his hips faster. You could feel the pleasure coursing over you in waves. Everytime Jungkook’s hips met your own, you felt yourself tighten around him. He moaned out his pleasure, kissing your chin and throat messily. 

You couldn’t keep yourself from moaning, the sensations were too much. Jungkook reached up and palmed your breast, tweaking the nipple lightly, making a jolt of bliss shoot through your body. You arched into his touch, making soft noises as he continued pounding you wet heat. Jungkook was very vocal during sex, making grunting sounds or whispering dirty things into your ears. It made you wetter and wetter when he spoke like that, something you weren’t expecting to enjoy.

“Fuck you’re so good to me, letting me fuck you like this. God you're so beautiful,” he whispered, moaning at the end as he ground his hips against your pelvis, stimulating your already throbbing clit. Jungkook kept pawing at your breast, arousing you further. 

You weren’t sure how much more you could take, between Jungkook’s incessant pounding that was turning your legs to jelly and the way that he was looking at you. As if you were giving him something precious, it made your heart continue to melt. Letting him in that much further... But your heart was beating in your ears so loudly that it made your head spin. Jungkook cradled your face with his palm, making you look at him.

“Look at me, let me see how perfect you are when you cum,” he almost pleaded with you. Inhaling deeply you looked into his eyes and saw him. Seemingly for the first time. He was gazing at you with such raw emotion that it made you unsure. For the first time in a long time, you weren’t sure of your feelings. Jungkook here, in your arms felt... Right somehow. It felt as if this is where you both belonged. With each other.

You tried desperately to get these thoughts out of your head, but Jungkook’s whining melted you to a point that you couldn’t help but uttering the words.

“I need you,” you whispered, so quietly you barely heard it. But Jungkook heard it loud in clear. So much so that he stopped moving. 

He wasn’t looking at you, but rather gazing down at your stomach. You felt the tension in the air. You were about to apologize when lips came crashing down upon yours. Jungkook didn’t kiss you like he had before. It was different somehow. As if you two were finally able to kiss. 

And boy, did he kiss you.

“I need you too, so much,” Jungkook breathed against your lips.

“Jungkook I don’t know why I said that,” you said, trying so desperately to backpedal. But it was too late. Jungkook smiled, and pushed into harshly.

“I know, and it’s okay if you don’t see it yet. I’ll wait,” he promised.

“Jungkook, we need to-ah!” you cried out when he reached down and rubbed your clit with his thumb. Smiling, almost cruelly at your pleasure, Jungkook came back down to place a kiss against your breast bone. Feeling a sudden rush of emotion you cradled his head to you, not wanting him to move.

He picked up on your sudden shift and brought his lips to yours, comforting you. You accepted his motions, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer. His chest touched yours and you could feel how fast his heart was beating. It was racing, as if he were running a race. 

“Jungkook, are you okay?” you asked, brushing his sweaty hair from his face. 

“Yeah, I’m good. Just, wanna cum,” he coughed. You made a face, but he ignored it, moving to pull out of you. 

“What are you-”

“Can we try another position?” he asked, slowly pumping his cock. 

“Yes,” you said, breathless at the sight of him. 

“Okay, wanna ride me?” he questioned. 

“Yes,” you said, moving forward to push him down on his back. Liking the idea of having more control, you crawled and took his cock in your hand, moving it up and down on his slick shaft. He hissed at the feeling of your warm hand on him. Looking down at him, you smiled softly. 

Shuffling forward on your knees you lined him up with your entrance and slowly settled down on your haunches, full of him. Tilting your head back you let the sensations overwhelm and excite you. Moving your hips up slowly, you watched him. His eyes were lidded, gazing at the place where you two were joined in an acute fixation. His eyes seemed to be glued there. Watched as your hungry cunt swallowed him more and more until he bottomed out.

“Feels so good, Jungkook,” you breathed, reaching up and gripping your breast tightly. 

Jungkook moaned his agreement. Licking his kiss swollen lips. You leaned down and licked a stripe from the base of his throat to the entrance of his mouth. Kissing him firmly you moved your hips harsher against him, grinding down and swirling them to bring you both insurmountable pleasure. 

“Fuck, Y/N, make me cum,” he begged. Looking down at him, you nodded, feeling the sensation building up in you as well. 

With a certain lack of precision you ground against him, bouncing and moaning. Jungkook reached up and steadied your hips, bringing you forward and moving his hips up to bring you both bliss. Jungkook was sweating and you could feel your legs starting to give out. But you could almost taste your orgasm, wanting it so badly. 

“So close, so close,” you said, panting with the effort. 

“Me too, keep going,” he encouraged, pulling you down to his chest and using the leverage to pound into your weeping pussy.

“God Jungkook don’t stop,” you begged. 

“Feels so good,” he breathed.

Jungkook was continuously hitting a spot inside you that made stars appear in your vision, and with one more push you came crumbling down. Jungkook finished not shortly after, making warmth bloom in your stomach. 

You collapsed onto his chest, breathing harshly. Your throat hurt from breathing so hard, but your boneless body didn’t seem to care. Jungkook kissed your head, threading his fingers through your sweaty hair. 

He pulled out a few moments later, making you wince, but you were too tired to care.

Jungkook moved to leave, when you grabbed his hand. 

“Don’t leave me,” you whispered, feeling surprisingly vulnerable after what just transpired. Jungkook smiled and laid back down. You crawled up and laid down on his chest. 

“Never,” he answered. 

But, as you fell asleep, you couldn’t shake the sense of dread you felt piling up in your stomach.

[murderdaddymayhem]

Trapped - Mark Hoffman x Reader [NSFW]

Hoffman has feelings for Strahm's fiance. Now that Strahm is dead, you struggle with returning those feelings just for the night.

Set in between Saw V and VI. Please visit the ao3 link for full tags.

“Hey. You left something by the coffee machine.”

You look up, and see Detective Hoffman holding your engagement ring. “Oh,” you smile. “How do you know it’s mine?”

“I guess I look at your fingers a lot,” he jokes, tossing it to you. You slide it back on.

“Do you? How’s this one look?” You playfully flip him off, and he manages as much of a chuckle as the stoic man ever could.

“I’ve sure seen that one more than the others.”

You return the ring to your finger, sliding it on and sitting back down at your desk.

“We’re going out for drinks tonight,” Hoffman mentions, “Wanna come?” You normally wouldn’t join the rest of the officers after hours, but you had been making more of a solid effort to go out and enjoy yourself now that the initial sting of Peter’s death had subsided for you. You tilt your head. 

“Is Lindsey gonna be there? Matthews?”

“Yeah. Sing, Tapp. Everyone’s going.”

“Sure. I’ll be there,” you nod.

“Great.” He looks like he wants to say something else, and eventually closes with, “Don’t work yourself too hard.”

You look down to the paperwork on your desk, and back up to return with a quip, but Hoffman’s gone. You spend longer than you should looking out your door, mindlessly counting the number of steps it takes him to get back to his own office as if you hadn’t already memorized it.  

Mark sits down at his desk. He’d always had a thing for you. He’d been jealous of Strahm, not only in his stellar reputation with the guys, but of his pretty wife and his perfect life. Mark may have seemed like the handsome hero everyone dreamed of, but in reality, he was a pitiable alcoholic whose sole personality trait was mourning.

If you ever did return his feelings, it would probably be because you pitied him for the loss of his sister, which hurt more than the bindings John had put him in that first day of initiation. He only wanted one thing, really. Maybe two, the first being justice. True justice. As for the second, it's not viable to have you in the position he's in, but his tendency to run from his emotions is being put to the test by your acceptance of his invitation. 

 When you get to the bar you and everyone at the station frequent after work, Hoffman’s sitting there. Within a half an hour, it’s become apparent the others aren’t coming... and were never coming.

“You invited me out under false pretences,” you say, accepting your drink of choice from the bartender with a nod. “Why?”

“I told you, the others didn’t show.”

“I work for the FBI, and you’re a detective. You’re honestly trying to lie to me?”

Hoffman considers this, purses his lips. “Not very well thought out on my part, I guess.”

“What, did you want to talk to me about a case?” you ask. “Something about today’s paperwork?”

“You know I don’t want to talk about that crap. I wanted to ask you how you were,” he corrects you, taking another generous sip of his second double vodka of the night. “All these months later. Treat you to a night off.”

“Oh,” you nod. “Right.” You’re quiet for a moment. “I’m okay. I haven’t really said it out loud yet, but I think I am.” You debate opening up, but you know he’s also lost someone, so you take a chance. “I feel bad when I forget him.”

“Yeah. I know how it feels to forget. My sister was a huge part of my life, and I never thought I could. And I can’t. Difference is, I try to forget.” You stay quiet, ruminating on the reminder of Mark’s dead sister. He didn’t talk about her often for that reason you suppose, but everyone who knew Hoffman knew he was the way he was because of her death. “You’re not wearing your wedding band,” he mutters, starting in on his third drink.

“I lost it,” you whisper.

“Like you lost it by the coffee machine today?”  

You avert your eyes down to your lap. “Maybe you’re not the only one who tries to forget.” Silence passes between you as you explain. “Looking at it opens up old wounds. Keeping the past in the past is my way of dealing with it. He’s gone. If I think about how awfully he died, how scary his last seconds were, it’ll be like it happened yesterday... and I’ll have to start the process again.” You shove your hand down into your pocket, unwilling to study your bare ring finger any longer. “The past is as tangible as the future, detective. If I can’t feel it, it’s not there.”

“You think denying it’s gonna help you in the long run?”

You frown, looking up at him. “Nobody’s denying anything.” Blinking as if in slow motion, Mark gets up and tosses money down for the two of you. He takes your arm and leads you out of the bar, into the cool night air. Confused and more than a little angry, you jerk your arm away. “Why did you invite me for drinks?”

“I wanted to offer my condolences. Again.”

“Bullshit. It’s been 4 months and you haven’t once said you’re sorry he died in one of John Kramer’s sick traps. I know you two weren’t close, but why wait this long? What do you really want?”

“I don’t want anything.”

“Look me in the face and tell me one thing tonight that isn’t a lie,” you demand. Mark turns to you fully.

“Okay. I want to fuckin’ kiss you.”

You hesitate. That was the opposite of what you were expecting. You try and find words as Mark stares at you with that dark gaze, those eyes that seemed to linger in your mind now that you were lonely and no longer trapped under the weight of a lacklustre partnership.

“So? What’s stopping you?” You can never tell what’s going on behind those eyes; he guards his feelings and he guards his secrets. You know he has more secrets than the average man, but he’s a detective. How bad can they be?

“You want me to kiss you?” he murmurs. “Tell me exactly what you want me to do.” He advances, walking you back against the brick wall of the alley no doubt filled with the scum John had him abduct for his games. “Huh? You want me to kiss you how you’re used to? Kiss you like it’s an obligation? Like it’s what people expect me to do?” Your eyes start to prick with tears as Hoffman brushes your hair out of your face. “You want me to tell you I love you like a man who’s only true obsession is a serial killer he couldn’t begin to understand?”

“Hoffman, Peter—”

“Don’t say his name,” he mutters, “You’ll cut the wound wide open again, sweetheart.” He presses his lips against yours, and you feel your body release all of its tension. He kisses like Strahm’s antithesis—like he knows what he’s doing. He’s rough and he’s present, nothing like how you’d imagined the cold detective would. Peter had tried, but as much as he wanted to be, he hadn’t loved you as much as that damn case. Hoffman adversely seemed to care about anything but, even though he was in charge of it. You used to think everything was a façade for Hoffman, that appearances were everything. Façades have to crumble sometime.

  By the time you had arrived at his apartment with him in the passenger’s seat, the full effects of the detective’s four double vodkas had set in. He tries to maintain his sense of self until the elevator, then down the hall and into his place.

“Shit,” Mark grunts, sliding your jacket off, “I want you.”

“No you don’t.”

He licks his lips. “Wanna bet?”

“You’re drunk, and we’re colleagues,” you mutter. “You’re gonna walk into work tomorrow morning and you’re not going to be able to look me in the eye.”

“What, after taking you on every surface of my apartment?” he mutters, lips dipping dangerously close to your neck. “Your pussy isn’t gonna shock me. Yours isn’t the first I’ve seen, but it’s sure as hell on my list.” You try once more to push him off, and he tries to stand wearily. His brown eyes blink a few times, and he shakes his head. “Fuck. Sorry.” He lets go of you, backs off. You realize your mistake, and take him by his lapels.

“Are you?”

He looks back up at you, and through your shared gaze, he sees his own arousal reflected in your eyes. His lips are back on you, finally touching your skin, and his hands roam under your top, up to cup your breasts and paw for the hooks of your bra.

“Around the back,” you whisper against his lips. In his drunken state, Hoffman misinterprets this to mean you want to be turned around, and you find yourself pressed against the wall as his hands massage your ass. A moan slips from you as you try to reach back. “I meant the bra.”

“Fuck,” he repeats again, slightly slurred, and reaches up to take it off of you. It drops down one arm, and Mark turns you around again to take your top off and release the garment from your sleeve. “This is what I’ve been fuckin’ missing?” he mutters, half to himself. “God damn gorgeous.”

“Tell me more?” you ask coyly, wrapping arms around his neck. He growls, picking you up by the ass so your legs can wrap around his hips.

“You don’t even wanna know the shit I fantasize about with you,” he mumbles, grinding himself between your legs.

“Wanna bet?” you volley back his line with a grin, and he scoffs, working down your panties as you reach a hand forward to tease him through his business casual pants. The feeling of his bulge grounds you in the reality that yes, Mark Hoffman does want you back. He wants to fuck you in his apartment, and he wants to do it now.

“I’m drunk, but I’m not drunk enough to tell you that, honey.” He presses a soft kiss to the curve of your jaw and slides your panties off, dropping them and rubbing his fingers back up your thighs and beneath the plush seat of your ass. His fingertips are oddly rough, for a detective who hasn’t seen field work in three months.

“What’s your secret, Hoffman?” you ask, and he uses one hand to stroke up the column of your neck.

“Gonna have to fuck me to find out.”

The two of you move over to his couch, Hoffman attempting to lift you over. His state tells you this is a bad idea, so you just pull him by his tie over, and push him down on the couch. He seems to like your show of control, eyes roaming up and down your body as you stand over him. “This feels a little unfair,” you whisper, lifting a hand up to squeeze your breast. Hoffman tears his eyes away from the action.

“What does?”

“Look at you,” you gesture to his fully clothed form, “And look at me.”

“Oh, I’m looking,” he nods, reaching down to squeeze himself. You get between his legs on the couch with a huff, and take over, unzipping his pants and giving him a better squeeze through his boxers. You can feel how hard he is, how large his bulge has grown. He grinds up into your hand, makes no move to undress himself any further.

“You’re selfish,” you mutter.

“I never said I was a nice guy,” he replies.

“You’re a detective.”

“Gray area.”

“For what?”

“My hobbies.”

“Which are?” You sit back on your heels for a moment. Hoffman seems to realize he was about to let something big slip, and your curiosity only grows as he cuts himself off.

“Shut up, will you? And kiss me.”

“That’s my line,” you groan, unbuckling his belt and sliding it out.

“I stole it.”

“You steal a lot?” you probe, hoping to uncover that elusive secret.

“Like I said,” he mutters, face still stone cold. “I’m not a nice guy.” You moan as he pulls you down against him, and moves his hand down to uncover his cock in a smooth movement of his hand. He groans as it grazes against your thigh and up to your pussy, and you lean down to kiss him again. His large hands reach up to your smooth naked back, clutching your body to his as he deepens the kiss. Your breath mingles as you pull away, vodka in his and the mint of chewing gum in yours.

“Condoms?” Mark reaches beside him to the coffee table, and pulls open a packet. Reaching between you two and keeping you held up with the ease of a strong bicep, he doesn’t break eye contact with you as he rolls one onto his shaft—the feeling alone of his own hand on himself is enough to make him moan, but he keeps it together. You lift up to position yourself.  “You’re sure you want to do this?”

 “I’m ridiculously hard for you,” he replies, eyes half lidded and lips parted. “I think if you left me now, it would be the first time in my life I’ve cried.” You roll your eyes, and he sits you down on his cock. Your eyes roll back. He looked big when he first took himself out, but it was nothing compared to the feeling. He’s stretching you all the way to the base, hands tightening on your arms. He rocks up once, and you whine his name softly. “Can you move?” he whispers, slurring his words.

“Yeah.” You start to rock down, and his breath hitches. After a moment, he reaches his hands further back, feeling your ass and groping it before sliding them up to your lower back to guide your movements.

“So good,” he mumbles, “Never knew I wanted you... this fucking bad.”

“When did you figure it out?” you smirk, gasping as he hits deep.

“Today, at the office.” His eyes slip shut. “I looked at you sitting there, and wished your picture was on my shelf instead of all the bullshit awards I don’t fucking deserve. One thing that means something to me, that I don’t have to tempt fate to get. That’s all I want. That’s all I need. Just someone else. Just someone else.”

You can’t think of a response. To save him embarrassment in the morning if he, by some miracle, remembers this conversation, you don’t reply. You’re afraid you’ll scare him off if you reciprocate the sentiment, and you’re terrified you’ll offend him if you coddle him. Then again, he could mistake your silence for apathy. Even in his impaired state of mind, Mark seems to realize what’s running through your head. He pulls you down against his broad chest again to put all these thoughts you had no business thinking while getting fucked to bed.  

Still, he offers no tender explanation of his confession, no further apologies or bashful take-backs. He only increases his pace, grunting as you start to feel your climax build.

“I wanna feel you cum all over me,” he growls, “Fuck. Fuck, let me feel it.”

“Hoffman.”

“Use my name. Use my fucking name—”

“Mark.”

“Ah,” he hisses, trying to make himself last. “Good girl. Good girl...” You squeeze around him, riding him back and forth, your clit grinding against his pelvis and your ass slamming down into his thighs. He lets out sharp puffs of air, wrapping one arm around you and tightening it. You feel as though you’re as close to the distant man as you’ve ever been as he breathes your name into your hair, burying himself in it as he buries his cock the deepest it will go inside of you and stills.

You’re both almost there, and the formality between you dies.

“Mark—I’m gonna cum,” you breathe desperately, “Don’t stop!”

True to character, Hoffman doesn’t offer any verbal encouragement, but his body language is worth a thousand words. He bites your earlobe, reaching down to rub your clit in circles. The action makes you gasp, and you brace yourself on his chest as your orgasm finally hits in waves. His hips convulse inside of you as he finally lets himself finish with you, and your grunts and groans meld together into a harsh symphony of panted out breaths.

“You moan so pretty, babygirl,” he sighs. A warm flush rushes through your body at that, and you’re not sure why. This needs to stay a one night’s stand, not some workplace romance the two of you can giggle about behind closed doors. It would only be a liability to both of your careers in the force,  and you know Mark will agree once he sobers up in the morning.

“Stop thinking,” he groans. His voice is gravelly, sated. “Hey. Stop. More importantly, stop guessing what I’m thinking.”

You stare down at him, eyes dancing between his. Your voice comes out barely louder than a whisper. “What are you thinking?”

“Absolutely nothing. Which is what you should be thinking of too, after we both fell into bed together.”

He seems to grow uncomfortable with the close eye contact, feels as though you’re reading him like a book. He moves your head down, where you lay there on his softly rising and falling chest. His steady breathing makes you think he’s fallen asleep, but his eyes are wide open. He stares up at the ceiling as if he was staring up at Peter Strahm again, watching the walls close in on the agent and crush his bones as he himself sunk into the ground safely entombed in glass. He swallows, imagining how your bones must have crunched in on themselves as you crumpled to the floor receiving news of your husband’s death.

His fault.

John’s fault. Jigsaw's fault.

No.

His fault.

He thought acting on his feelings and sleeping with you would make him forget Strahm ever existed. Instead, it felt like Strahm was the one in that box, watching the walls close in on Hoffman as every shitty thing he’d done in his life came closing in on him. Hoffman feels his heartbeat pick up desperately, but talks himself down as he did every night. He listens to the rhythm of your breath, tries to meditate to it.

You don’t have the problem of hyperactive thought at the moment—you had taken Mark’s advice, and calmed down. It’s okay that you had moved on. It’s okay you had found comfort in someone else’s arms, and it’s okay that it’s Hoffman. Despite this, one singular question seems to bounce back and forth in your head as curiosity digs its nails back in.  

 Your finger traces a pattern in the rug below the couch... the pattern of a puzzle piece.

[duuhrayliegh]

watch your six - part five

pairing: eventual bucky x reader (they’re together in the next chapter i stg)

warnings: language (several f bombs bc i feel like bucky would be liberal w them), sam and bucky being little shits, bad nicknames, 

word count: just under 2500

a/n: long awaited but it’s finally here! i’m super proud of this one :) i hope y’all like it also this was the first time i’ve written something like this so constructive criticism please. i hope i did the characters justice 

p.s.: my requests are still open babes! i’m working on the next part of this series and also possibly continuing TFCL ;) my tag lists are still open as well

please like and reblog if you enjoyed the story 

xoxo ray

series m.list

ray’s m.list

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

The tension in the room was palpable. “What do you mean you know her, Buck?” Steve questioned. Bucky’s eyes were flitting around the room, landing on each face of bewilderment. He honestly didn’t know what he meant but that, it kind of just came out. Where the fuck did that come from? Who is this woman?

“Uh, hello? What’s going on in that cyborg brain of yours?” Sam interjected quickly, to which he received a sharp glare from both Bucky and Steve. Sam shrugged his shoulders and a quiet snort was heard from across the room.

“He’s got a point, Terminator.” Tony said as he plopped himself into one of the rollie chairs. “You can’t just say something like that and then not explain it.” Bucky’s brows furrowed and he expelled a grunt as his response to Tony.

“Bucky, you’ve got to give us something to go on here.” Natasha said calmly as she eyed an increasingly agitated Bucky.

Since coming back from Wakanda and being brought into the compound, Steve, Sam and Natasha have learned how to read Bucky. Steve has always been able to read the one hundred and six year old, they have shared life experience. Natasha was is a trained master assassin, trained in the Red Room by the Winter Soldier. One of her most valuable skills is her ability to read the emotions of anyone around her. And Sam, well he still leads a support group down at the VA. Being a war-torn veteran himself, he knows what it’s like to have to deal with the memories.

“Look, I don’t know what I meant by it.” Bucky finally said, throwing his hands above his head in exasperation. “It just came out, ya know? I didn’t process it before I said it and now, it’s out there. And to top it off, I don’t have the fucking memories there to back it up. They’re definitely there, but they aren’t just presenting themselves to me on a silver platter.” The group around him silenced.

Bucky was known for being the quiet, brooding type. His murder stare was comically famous around the compound. Sam constantly picked on Bucky about it, so hearing the man spout more than a few words at a time was a shocking experience for all of them.

“You know, there is a way that we can know what even your own mind doesn’t want you to know.” Tony said, darting his eyes over to Steve, who stood stoically in front of the large monitor.

“Goddamn, Tony! We said this isn’t an episode of FRIENDS!” Sam shouted.

“He won’t like that Tony. You know he won’t.” Natasha cut in quickly.

“But, if it works and it tells us if this woman knows anything, then it’s worth a shot.” Tony shot back.

“Tony. No. He’s already been through that and you want to subject him to it again?” Bucky was listening intently to their conversation, trying to figure out what they were referring to.  Natasha seemed adamant that Bucky would not be a fan of whatever it was. Tony, as usual, couldn’t care less.

“What are we talking about?”

“Wanda.”

“Who’s Wanda again?”

“She’s the witch.”

“We have a witch on our team? That’s not possible, there’s no such thing as witches and wizards.”

“Uh, yeah there is, cyborg.”

“No, there's not bird brain.”

“Yeah. There is, dumbass. She’s the one who does the hand thing and then there’s the crazy red glow around her? She’s got long hair? Dating the android?”

“There’s an android on the team?” Bucky was still getting to know everyone on the team, but he was positive he would know if there was a fucking android on the team.

“Yeah, the guy with the yellow glowy thing embedded in his forehead? Do you pay attention at all, Bucky? He’s dating Wanda, the witch with the red glowy hand thing?” Sam was waving his hands in front of his face and gesturing to his forehead.

“There’s no fucking way. Steve? Is there an android on the team?” Bucky turned to Steve, expecting an answer. All of the sudden, a red mass phased through the wall behind Steve. Vision appeared, looking quizzically around the room.

“Did someone ask for me?” His British accent carried through the room, once again causing the room to silence and turn to Bucky. Bucky’s lips were pursed, disgruntled that Sam was once again right in their little squabbles.

“Alright fine, but there’s not a witch right?”

“If you’re referring to Ms. Maximoff, then no. She simply manipulates molecular polarity allowing her to alter the reality around her.” Vision said it as if Bucky was meant to understand it. When in reality, Bucky was still getting over the fact fangirling that there was an android talking to him.

“However, if calling her a witch makes you more comfortable,” Vision paused and turned towards the doorway on the other end of the room, “I believe you should ask her permission before doing so.” He raised his hand causing Bucky to follow its direction.

“Hey Tony. Friday said you wanted to see me?” Wanda glided into the room, doing a quick survey of its occupants. Her gaze eventually landed on the vibrant being beside Steve. “Vis, you left in the middle of us making dinner. We’ve talked about that.”

“Yes, do forgive me, my love. However, I believe your expertise is required outside of the kitchen.” Wanda’s orbs flicked to Steve’s first and then to Tony’s, waiting for instructions.

“We want you to go inside Barnes’ mind and retrieve memories about someone for us.” Tony stated plainly. Bucky’s eyes widened and his fear grew. She can do that? Who the fuck was going to tell me that? Can she read my mind too? Is she listening now?

“That’s not exactly how it works, Tony.”

“It doesn’t matter because I never agreed to that, Stark.” Bucky said firmly. He was tired of his brain being put in a blender. He was finally getting comfortable in his own body again. He was gaining more and more control over his mind every day. Granted, he wasn’t sleeping because of the nightmares.

No, not nightmares, because of the memories. Why the fuck would he willingly subject himself to that during the daylight? No, his pain, though constant, was only to be shown at night, when he was completely alone and there’s no chance that he could hurt anyone else.

“If this is the only way that we can know for sure, then we need to do it.” Tony pushed, “You know I’m right, Cap. After what happened with the Sokovia Accords, even though they aren’t monitoring us as closely as they could be, they’re still watching. And if we storm in there without any good reason to, then it’s our asses on the line.”

“Hey, I don’t remember giving you authority over my brain. So what the fuck gives you the right to try and get me to do this shit?” Bucky stood as he spoke, “You’re heroes, goddamn it. It’s your fucking job to save people who need you to. So you should fucking do it. With or without a goddamn reason, you prick.” He shoved the chair away from him and stormed out of the room, passed Wanda who watched with a pained expression.

“He’s right, Tony.” Steve said quietly.

“About what, Cap?”

“We shouldn’t have to have a reason to do our jobs.”

“All I’m saying is that if he has information about this woman that could help us, we need to know it.” Tony glanced back to Wanda, “What if he’s enhanced like Wanda and Pietro and we go in there guns blazing. What happens if she perceives us as a threat? What then Cap?”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it, Tony.” Steve was the Captain, so ultimately it was his decision. This left Tony incredibly unsatisfied, giving him a reason to implement a plan of his own. “We leave tonight. Be ready to leave in three hours.”

The room emptied quickly, everyone having their own rituals to do before departing on a mission. Steve and Sam were the last to remain in the room. “Do you really think this is a good idea?” Sam asked in a hushed whisper.

“It’s the only one I got, Sam.”

“Are you going to let him come on the mission?” Steve made a face as he clenched his jaw. “I mean, Tony has a point. If he knows something, I think we should try to figure out what it is.”

“We can’t ask him to do that, Sam. You know we can’t.”

“I’m not saying that we should, but if you bring him on this mission and he remembers something in the heat of the moment?” Sam turned his body to fully face Steve, “What are we going to do then?” Sam brought up a valid point, but Steve knew he wouldn’t be able to stop Bucky from coming on the mission.

“Like I said, we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”

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

It was somewhat therapeutic for Bucky to be sharpening his knives. He sat quietly on one of the overstuffed couches in the compound’s common area. A wide array of matte black knives was laid out on the coffee table in front of him. He held one in his hand, raking it against a damp stone to create a slick silver edge on the blade. His solitude didn’t last long, not that he expected it to, especially here in the compound.

“Hi, I don’t think we’ve ever formally met. I’m Wanda.” She stuck her hand out for Bucky to shake which he did, with great caution. There is no telling what this woman is capable of. I don’t need to get too comfortable with her.

“Bucky.” He kept his replies short, in the hopes of deterring her from wanting to interact with him. He knows that is exactly what Steve and his therapist in Wakanda told him to stop doing, but that’s irrelevant.

“I know what Tony was suggesting for us to do isn’t ideal, Bucky.” Bucky shuddered unintentionally, his fear rolling off of him in waves. “I just wanted to let you know, I would never do that to you. Not unless you asked me to and even then I don’t know if I would.” Bucky turned his head to face her. She seemed sincere, but then again people are always rotten on the inside.

“I promise, I won’t.”

“I’ve heard one too many promises in my day, Wanda.” He shifted back to his original task, flipping another knife into the palm of his hand and dragging it along the stone. Wanda nods and lifts herself to her feet, about to retreat to the kitchen.

“It’s the nightmares, isn’t it?” Bucky froze mid-drag, eyes boring holes into the table in front of him, not responding to Wanda. “The reason you don’t want me in your head?”

“What do you know of nightmares, witch?” Bucky sneered defensively.

“You would be surprised what I know of nightmares, Bucky.” She approached the back of the couch, curling her hands around the plush fabric. “My brother, Pietro, and I, volunteered for the experiments with HYDRA.” Bucky whipped his head around to face her, immediately registering her on a higher threat level. She lifted her right hand and a glowing red ball danced between her fingers as dynamic vines licked up her palm.

“We thought that they were there to help after everything that we went through in Sokovia.” Her accent thickened with each word, “After Stark’s bomb didn’t go off, we thought it meant we were destined to take him down. So we went to the closest freedom fighter group we could find.”

Bucky watched as she dropped her hand, the red energy dissipating immediately. “We weren’t the only ones, though. There were hundreds of us. Pietro and I just so happened to be the ones that were able to withstand what they put us through.” Their eyes met, gaze holding as she continued speaking. “Then, I watched their future. And in their ideal future, we weren’t there. None of us. No Avengers or enhanced people. No humans whatsoever.” She swallowed thickly, “That’s when we knew they lied. We had suspicions earlier, but we just did what we were told so we could get what we wanted.”

“What exactly did you want?”

“We wanted Stark dead.” She held Bucky’s eyeline. “But now, my brother is dead. And all I want is to see HYDRA's downfall at my hands.” She glanced back down at her hands, “What Tony wanted me to do,” hesitating as she continued, “I know he just wants me to go through your memories and pick out the ones specific to Agent Libra, but that’s not how it works.” Bucky looked at her and then leaned back into the couch cushions, gesturing for her to continue. “The way that I would go about that would be to have you experience the whole thing over again.”

“What do you mean?”

“What I mean,” Wanda sucked in a deep breath, “It’s like a lucid dream. Your body would be moving and you wouldn’t be in control of it. Any action that you did at that particular moment in history would be reenacted exactly as it occurred.”

“So, if I were to do this, it would be like I was the Soldier again?”

“If that’s what it felt like, then yes.” A shiver ran up Bucky’s spine, he definitely didn’t want that. “I just wanted you to know what you would be getting yourself into if you did decide to allow me access to your memories.” A stiff nod was all she received in return.

He knows she’s just trying to be nice but he can’t help but want to run away and hide in a dark room. Bucky has been through so much because of that freedom fighter organization, he couldn’t fathom people actually volunteering their bodies for their twisted scientific experiments.

“Thanks for letting me know, Ms. Maximoff.” Even though Bucky wanted nothing to do with this woman next to him, his mother still raised him to be respectful of everyone.

“Oh, you can call me Wanda.” She smiled as she began her approach to the kitchen yet again. One thing was still nagging Bucky and he had to know the answer.

“Hey, quick question Wanda.” She stopped and turned to face him, sending a small hum in question towards him. “Are you a witch?”

Her head tilted thoughtfully, “Yes, I am.” She left it at that, leaving Bucky with wide eyes and a mouth that was hanging open. Goddamn it, I fucking hate it when Sam is right.

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

watch your six tag list

@indigo123789 @austynparksandpizza 

[caitdjarin]

happier

Bucky Barnes x Reader

- Part two to ‘traitor’.

Warnings

Angst, Jealousy, Language, Mentions of Sex, Bucky being toxic and possessive, Arguments, Yelling, Australian/English spellings

gif is not mine

Yours and Bucky’s “friendship” literally just consisted of arguments and him apologising. A small list of reasons why he was mad at you and argued with you were

- You created a tinder account, which he had found

- You went out on a date

- You fucked someone

- You fucked someone else

It was mainly him being jealous and it royally pissed you off, you tried to talk to him or get anyone to talk to him about it, but he would not listen. It was like he thought he had some claim on you because you agreed to be civil with him and possibly start a friendship again, like before you were dating.

You had been doing particularly well with Bucky for a while, it was pleasant. Bucky had stopped his bullshit for a couple of months now and you felt like you were on the path to a friendship with him. Without all the arguing. That’s when you decided to sign up to sing at a local bar that you all went to regularly. You felt as if Bucky would be mature enough to listen. As you were about to invite him, he started an argument again, you started to think he was doing it on purpose. When you were together, every argument ended in unbelievable make-up sex. This time, he was mad that he saw someone walking out of your apartment.

“James, stop.” You yelled. “You’re acting like a fucking child. I am single, I am allowed to do whatever the fuck I want, and I will do whatever the fuck I want. You know that we will not be together again, stop causing these arguments trying to make something happen because it will not.”

He, of course, walks off.

You don’t tell Bucky about the bar. He won’t handle it well, but you invite Nat, Wanda, Steve and Vis.

-

Starting the song was probably the hardest part, pouring your feelings into the world and letting your friend know how you actually felt during.

“And do you tell her she's the most beautiful girl you've ever seen? An eternal love bullshit you know you'll never mean Remember when I believed you meant it when you said it first to me? And now I'm pickin' her apart Like cuttin' her down make you miss my wretched heart But she's beautiful, she looks kind, she probably gives you butterflies” Finishing the verse, you look out towards Nat and Wanda, where they’re smiling back at you, giving you the courage to finish.

“I hope you're happy, but not like how you were with me I'm selfish, I know, I can't let you go So find someone great but don't find no one better I hope you're happy, I wish you all the best, really Say you love her, baby, just not like you loved me And think of me fondly when your hands are on her I hope you're happy, but don't be happier”

Concluding the song, you look out in the crowd again, this time finding a familiar face, with bright blue eyes. You felt your face drop. Walking off the stage, you find yourself moving towards him.

“Bucky, you’re here”

“Yeah, Steve let it slip that this was happening, wanted to support you.” He replies, walking out of the venue.

You walk back into the venue and find Nat, Wanda, Steve and Vis.

“You did incredible, I am so proud of you for putting yourself out there.” Nat speaks loudly, trying to make sure you hear over the music. Wanda hugs you quickly before telling you she’s proud of you as well. Vis and Steve just smile at you, unsure of how to proceed when they literally just heard a song that was clearly directed at their friend. You all walk out of the venue.

“Why did you tell him, Steve?” You say softly.

“He asked me what I was doing tonight, and when I told him where I was going, he started questioning me a lot, so I just let it slip. I am sorry, I should’ve told him not to come.” He answers truthfully.

“It’s okay, I guess he was going to find out anyway.”

Bucky always thought you had an incredible voice, mainly hearing it while you were cleaning the apartment you once shared. Hearing it again made his heart melt. Until he registered the lyrics. Knowing how you truly felt about the breakup and how he handled things was like a punch to the gut. He was hoping that him causing arguments would bring out the sexual tension and then he’d be able to get you back but as he heard your voice cracking as you sung, he knew that he had lost the one thing in his life that made him the happiest he’s ever been.

Finding out your new co-worker was your ex-fiancé, was very weird. You had just started a new job as a professor at a small university. Rafael was always polite; you were in the same department, so it was a bit difficult to avoid him anyway. One day, you noticed a small band on his ring ringer.

“So you got married?”

“Yeah” he smiled, “Peter and I did over the weekend.”

“I am so happy for you, Raf, I know you wanted this for a long time”

“I am really sorry about how it all happened, I know I treated you badly and I should have- “

“You didn’t have to do anything, Raf, you weren’t ready to come out. It might’ve hurt a little, but you deserve to not hide who you are and be with someone who is the complete opposite of who you are attracted to.” You say, cutting him off.

“How are do you always see the best in people, even when they fuck you over?” He questions.

“Because I’ve seen the good and you can’t be defined by your mistakes. I have to go now though, Congratulations again.” You say, walking out of the shared office.

You had to talk to Bucky, clear the air, make sure everything was okay. First stopping by your apartment to drop off some papers and your laptop.

You found Bucky sitting at the steps, waiting for you, you assume.

“Hey, do you want to come up?” You say as he looks up at you. He follows you up. Opening your door, you lean against it to let him in, he walks in taking in your home for the first time.

“It’s definitely you.” He smiles.

“I spend a lot of time here, have to make it nice and comfortable.”

“I am so proud of you; I hope you know that. Your voice was incredible.”

“Thank you, Bucky, I really appreciate that.”

“Why didn’t you invite me?” He asks, sadly. You sigh.

“I was going to, then you started that stupid argument and it made me feel like I shouldn’t. I am glad that you came anyway.”

“I’m sorry, I guess I just wanted you back and didn’t know how to get that across without arguing.”

“Bucky- “You start. He says your name cutting you off.

“I know now that it will not happen, and I am okay with that, I just want you in my life still.” He states. “You were right in that song by the way. She made me happy temporarily, but nobody will ever make me as happy as I was when I was with you.”

“I will always love you, Buck, I always have, and I think I always will. But us breaking up brought up some real problems in our relationship for me that I think I just overlooked because I was so in love with you.”

“I will always love you too.” You watch as a single tear comes out of his beautiful blue eye. You hug him, wrapping your arms around his waist and laying your head on his chest. He pulls you in closer, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and kissing the top of your head. You stay there for a while, just enjoying each other’s company. Once he leaves, you dig through your wardrobe. You find all your books with your notes in them.

Going through all your papers with your songs on them and all your little thoughts you had written down throughout your breakup and as you were moving on, felt nostalgic. Remembering how you had felt about Bucky, how your emotions were so strong and how you would scrub your skin lighter, fearful that you might speed up the process of your body renewing and creating something that hadn’t been touched by him. You decide to burn them all. You want to remember the good in your relationship moving forward. You would forever love James Buchanan Barnes, but you loved yourself more.

He may not have been my soulmate but he’s the man I am going to tell my children about when they ask what love feels like.