#me: i hope you know you are literally ripping my soul from my body and shredding it to pieces

[adoregojo]

secret admirer.

hihihihihihihihi, i cannot believe i actually slept for two days in a row? wth? and also that i never did this kind of posts? im such a lazy bum mb yall, I promise I'll write a real fic soon. summary: bllk characters as your secret admirers: isagi, bachira, chigiri, reo. how they fell, what do they do, how did they confess.

isagi.y

him. just him.

you once held his shirt collar to stop him from planting flatly on the floor.

and when you walked away, you walked with his heart in your palms.

yea, just like that

but honestly, isagi himself didn't knew he was such a big sap inside

and the moment he realised you two shared a few classes was the second he almost kneeled and thanked the sky itself for this.

an absolute swoon from looking at your side profile.

he once was long gone within the abyss of daydreaming about you, he genuinely just couldn't look away.

then got called out by the teacher for being too distracted.

definitely prayed that you didn't see that.

writes your name unintentionally in his notebook.

gets so embarrassed about it later and rips the paper.

still dose it again the next day and almost ripped the whole book apart form cringing at himself.

he once was musing over you too much to the point that your name slipped out unwittingly on the dinner table.

his parents couldn't stop teasing him about it, wondering when they would see you walking down their house door.

leaves love notes in your locker almost everyday.

it's something short and simple like: "you look pretty today."

then when he goes home he'll realize how dumb that was because you literally look the prettiest everyday.

dumb, dumby.

takes time to make the first move though.

he just feels like you're way, farther away from his reach.

it's okay, he still considers himself lucky to be one of those who got admire you.

he just hoped you saw him behind all of them, even if it was a glance.

chigiri.h

omgg pretty boyyy

despite chigiri being a confident and self-reliant, the trigger words of his old injury was like a pulling a pin of a grenade to his still-raw sorrowness. something that'll always haunt him.

and what dose he dare to say when they were nothing but truthful? like a salt to his wounds, he tends to just take it and suck it up, or at least try to ignore it for his sake.

but everything flipped when you stood up for him.

from that moment on. chigiri knew that he was far a goner.

out of everyone here he's definitely the most romantic one.

reads all your favourite books and analysis it.

probably named a cat after you.

like isagi he writes love letters for you.

just a little too poetic..

it it's short then it's something like: "loving you is like breathing." or "i hope your days are filled with the same joy you give me with your existence only."

but mostly is: "my definition of love, i see the true meaning of living behind your hue of life. you shall lighten my soul with your existence alone, i was born to see you shin each day, witnessing you is a blessing from heaven itself. the day that i stop seeing you as the owner of the stars is the day my body shall vanish, yet my soul will know it way back to you. from your only and one your admirer."

what a lovesick clown.

he might be a smooth talker on the outside, but trust me the butterflies of sentimental keeps on swirling in his stomach on the sight of you.

told his mother and sister about you.

it was his biggest regrets.

because the next day his sister shouted your name in a demand for you to spend the night for the 'meeting of the future in law'.

he had to physically drag her back to the car, freaking embarrassing.

couldn't meet your eyes for a while after that.

wants to hold your hand.

like, really badly.

it's just that feeling your skin against his cold, pristine hands must've feel like the loveliest, cosiest thing.

the thoughts alone are making him go crazy.

he confessed first, just couldn't help himself.

he just hoped if you would go to the end of the world alongside with him.

bachira.m

the sunshine boy himself.

the definition of fell first AND fell harder.

it all started when the class was ordered to work as duo for a project, something he always despised.

you may say that because bachira was definitely not having the word 'smart' in his book, you'd be right actually.

but mainly since no one really wanted to group up with him.

it was embarrassing, to just sit there and wait to be picked was putting him under the lights that pointed him out as the most pitiful creature in the room.

then you pocked him on the shoulder, and asked him if he wanted to be your partner.

and when he didn't see the sarcasm reeking from you, he knew he tripped hard, and couldn't find it anywhere in his feet to back him up.

it was strange, bachira never had a company, let alone a crush.

but the signs were there, and were painfully vulnerable.

painted you in art class multiple times; you with a smile, you reading a book, you sniffing a sunflower.

maybe also you and him... holding hands or hugging...

stares at your face a way, way too long.

he tells himself it's to crave your features better and detailed.

even he doesn't believe that however.

he draws your eyes a lot.

his second favourite colour is your eyes hue.

he was never the best at writing romantic poems, and his hand writing is just........

so he insisted gets you a gift!

which is a rock.

yes you heard me, rock.

he would even paint a little face with a smile on it and leave it on your desk by the end of the day.

almost went bald from joy when you had it hanging as a small march on your bag.

and when you had a bad day, that goes unnoticed by him.

so imagine your surprise when you would find two pairs of rocks, one kissing the other who had a sad expression on it face.

that somehow that foster a blissful smile on your face. like that little action extinct any remains of the past negative you carried.

and bachira was more than happy to be the reason for your happiness.

definitely rambles about you to his mom.

and his monster.

he once ha a dream about you two smooching.

cried when he woke up because he wanted it to be real more than anything.

you two confessed first, at the same time.

and boy was he dancing on cloud nine at it.

he almost smooch you that moment and then.

reo.m

it's mister perfect everyone, cheer.

you fell first, he fell harder.

no, literally. you fell. tripped flat on the floor.

and somehow, that made the reo mikage heart move.

?????????

love at first (fall??) sight.

he definitely leaves a trail of gifts for you everywhere.

your chair, desk, locker, bag.

he switches between chocolate and flowers to letters and perfumes, necklaces, etc..

you say how he picked them?

easy, see something that reminds him of you, he buys.

and it's pretty foolish since he sees you in almost everything.

reo is convinced that you're within everything that shins beautifully.

he actually paid the teachers to let him be in the same classroom as you.

paid even more to get a seat next to you.

rip to whoever was sitting next to you.

he once heard that a guy was bothering you.

the next day the guy was the talking of school because he suddenly moved out of town due to his dad losing his job.

hm, must be karma then.

has a shrine of you.

but you didn't hear that from me.

talks about you none stop to nagi and ba-ya.

genuinely sobbed when he imagined you with someone else.

has a flight under your name.

made a makeshift doll of you so he can practice his confessions on.

had a mental breakdown of the idea of you rejecting him.

reo can the most horrible, miserable day to a human kind to live.

then he sees you smiling

BOOM

he's all happy and smiling again, also a little giddy.

you once greeted him good morning, the next day he was planing what ring would suit you the most.

had two planes to write on the sky: 'will you go out with me?' and your name next to it in a shade of a heart.

now, you definitely cannot reject that. (Please don't)

have a nice day everyone.

[retroellie]

Polluted

Summary: After a long day of work, Spencer comes home and fucks his stresses away.

A/N: This was written in literally 45 minutes but I had this idea and I couldn't make it into a full fic, my mind could only think of the smut part lmao. Enjoy!!! :)

Warnings: NSFW, slapping, degradation, squirting, unprotected sex, mean!spencer

Word count: 1.9K

Prison changed Spencer Reid, plain and simple. This is not the man you came to love. He was cruel, possessive, completely and utterly damaged. You hoped that prison wouldn't taint Spencer too much, you hoped that he would continue to be sweet little Dr. Spencer Reid. But you knew what prison could do to a person, for you locked people up daily. You knew that the system would take Spencer's old soul and soft heart into its muddy hands, squeezing them until they became one. Although sometimes in the right lighting, in the right moment, you can see a hint of Spencer in his light brown eyes.

You can't say that you hated the change in Spencer, obviously there was much work to be done before Spencer could truly be himself again. However, you could live with this change. He was hungry, feeling as though your body was the only thing that could fill that hunger. It was extremely attractive to you, his sudden hunger for you. Spencer was always using you, using your body or your mouth or your hands... just you. There was always an excuse for him to be inside of you in his mind. A man thought of looking at you? He bent you over the kitchen table. You wore a shirt that showed a bit of your chest? He dragged you into the bathroom and forced you onto your knees. You smiled at him? He would shove his face between your thighs until you couldn't even see straight.

Even on the way back home after he had gotten out of prison, he bent you over the backseat on the side of the road and fucked you roughly. It felt like you were stepping on eggshells every time around him because you never know what can set him off... it was oddly scandalous, almost arousing as the thought of how he'd fuck you next was always on your mind. A big plus was that spencer dug himself into your brain, pulling out your deepest and darkest kinks, and using them to give you earth-shattering, mind-blowing, life-changing orgasms. Now you don't think you two could ever go back to just plain sex. He had ruined you, ruined your body so much that only the thought of being hurt could get you off now.

"Fucking bitch..." Spencer spat out, his hand spreading your legs further open as his cock drilled into your soaked cunt. "That bitch looked at me like I was fucking stupid..."

His words came out breathy and jagged as he fucked into you at an animalistic pace. Spencer came home today upset, his tie being ripped off and thrown down as soon as he got into the door. You knew something was up by this action, but also the look on his face. He seemed to have a frown sewn onto his face, something that he wore most days. You asked what was wrong but you were met with him ripping off your clothes, hinting that he didn't want to talk but to fuck his frustrations into you. Now here you were, panties ripped off, legs wide open, Spencer deep inside you with his hand placed on your neck.

You couldn't tell how many times you came just in this position alone, you couldn't keep count. His hand gripped your through, affecting the way your brain functioned. You felt with every thrust of Spencer's hips you would lose brain cells... creating the dumb cock whore that Spencer ached to achieve. Spencer's hand applied more pressure to your throat as he thought of what happened at work, how while section chief Erin Strauss critiqued his work, people were being murdered.

"As if my 187 IQ wasn't enough for her." He started, his hand on your thigh being slammed down past your face and into the wooden table he was drilling you into. " I mean, I've been at this place for over 10 years... I know what I'm fucking doing"

You came again, not able to keep yourself from unraveling now. His hand on your throat was constricting your moans, completely silencing them as the only thing that could come out of your mouth was soft gurgles. You loved this feeling, knowing that at any moment if you didn't like it you could alert Spencer and he'd stop immediately. I guess you could say that Spencer's care for you never disappeared after prison, he would go on to say that it strengthened his love for you. He had this picture of you that you had sent him in one of your many letters, he kept it with him everywhere he went for it was the only thing that kept him sane.

One time a fellow inmate saw it, snatched it from him, and digested every single inch of you. He went on to explain the disgusting things he would do to you if he got the chance, that is exactly why Spencer came home to fuck you nice and good every night. Because if he wasn't the one to do it, he knew that other people would take you for granted, they would spend only minutes with you... ignoring what you needed and taking what they wanted. You would feel incomplete, unsatisfied, and completely in denial that love existed. You would assume love was only made for books and movies, that no one could show you the love you deserved. This is the love you deserve. You deserve a love that could have you coming undone over and over again, a harsh and mean kind of love but that always ended with soft kisses and a nice hot bath. A love that was sour at first but ended sweet, making sure that the words "i love you" were carved onto your skin.

"You wouldn't do that would you?" He whispered into your ear, his grip on your throat as he waited for your response. " You don't think I'm stupid ...hmm?"

His cock was too deep inside you, it was deep enough to have you going cross-eyed and unable to speak. Your moans became audible now, no longer being stuck in your throat due to his pressure being released. His pace was still inhumanly fast, not stopping even for a second. The table had started to shit forward, being scrapped across the floor and probably worrying the downstairs neighbors. You were on the verge of cumming again, your mind not even able to comprehend his question until you felt a harsh sting on your cheek. Spencer had slapped you across the face, growing impatient while waiting for your answer.

"Answer me...." He hissed out, leaning down and taking his lips to yours. He bit down on your lip, creating a pain that shot through your body. "Or I'm going to make you cum over and over and over again until you can't think of anything else besides my cock deep inside your tight little pussy..."

You could taste blood now, your lip bleeding and seeping into your mouth. His words created this deep, rough knot in your stomach. It wasn't like the rest of the orgasms you had tonight, no it was more intense. It hurt, painful with every thrust of his cock. It created a deep pain and pleasure dynamic in your body but felt like something was trying to claw itself out of your body.

"Fuck..." You screamed out, grabbing onto him and digging your fingernails into his back. "No I wouldn't! Fuck... I wouldn't! I won't!"

You finally replied, hoping with those words he would deepen his thrust if that was even possible. Spencer just grinned down at you, placing his head in between your shoulder blade and your neck. He set soft kisses to the skin, his warm lips against your burning skin. Spencer was close, your words pushing him further to the edge. The feeling inside your stomach didn't stop or dull, it only got worse. You were screaming now, Spencer's hand lingering on your neck but sitting gently on your skin. Spencer picked up his speed, the table scraping against the floor even harder.

You couldn't handle it, everything around you becoming so far away yet being so close. The feeling got to a point of feeling terrifyingly painful but also so potent of pleasure and so bewitching that you didn't want it to end now. A couple more of Spencer's deep and harsh thrusts sent you over the edge, the painful knot in your stomach snapping and shooting liquid out of your body. It was the first time you had ever squirted, the feeling so glorious that you wished it would happen every time. Your vision went out, only seeing light and hearing Spencer's soft moans as he finished inside of you. The world felt like it ended, nothing to be seen or to be experienced... just emptiness but complete fullness all at the same time.

"Good girl..." You heard Spencer's words echo through your now-empty mind. You couldn't tell if your eyes were closed or not. "You did so good for me honey... I'm so proud of you."

Those single words were all you needed to hear as you floated back to earth and into your body, you blinked a couple times... forgetting where and who you were for a split second. You came back to see Spencer brushing your hair back from your sweaty face, his face inches from yours as his face filled with concern that maybe he had broken you finally.

"There she is..." He chuckled softly, kissing your lips softly. " There's my girl..."

You gave him a weak smile, raise your hand to rest on his cheek. You rubbed it softly, feeling the growing stubble on his face. He was just as sweaty as you, his body hot to the touch. You two probably looked insane, one of you barely able to walk looking beat the hell up and the other one scratched up and drenched with liquids. Spencer gently slid himself out of you, watching you wince softly as it felt like he was connected to you at this point.

"Sorry..." He whispered, taking your hand in his as he rubbed your thigh gently "I was too rough huh?"

Rough was not even close to what Spencer was. He was brutal, sadistic, barbaric but you couldn't deny that you would choose it over compassion any day. You began to think that maybe prison was the best thing that could've happened to Spencer Reid, not only was he a genius but he now had a powerful glow to him. Shy kisses and longing gazes were a thing of the past for you two, Spencer knew what he wanted and he was going to get it.

"You were just rough enough..." I chuckled, feeling nothing but content and at peace in this moment.

Spencer laughed with you, pecking your lips one last time before pulling away from you. He looked around, his eyes landing on the couch. He smiled, walking over and leaving you but only for a second. He came back with a blanket, wrapping it around you then picking you up bridal style. You thanked him silently because you knew there was no way you were getting off the table without some kind of help.

"To the bath you go..." He joked, holding you close to him as he walked you to your shared bathroom. 

You looked into his eyes and at the right lighting, the right moment, you looked into his light brown eyes... realizing that this is Spencer Reid. This is Spencer Reid damaged, polluted, and bruised... but it was still the man you fell in love with all those years ago.

[winterzsurprise]

Playing with fire || Miguel O'hara

Pairing: Miguel O'hara x f!reader

Summary: After risking your life to save one spider, Miguel had enough and decided it was time to discipline you.

Tags: SMUT, NOT BETA READ, face slapping (M&F), brat! reader, spanking, very brief blowjob, gagging, Miguel has a big dick, overstimulation (?), multiple orgasm denial, rough sex, pussy slapping, unprotected sex, pain kink, some aftercare at the end.

Words: 2.8k

idk how Tumblr works as well but user @/octobersoot said something about reader being a brat to Miguel and I had to revamp this one idea lol. I hope this counts as reader being a brat.

Spanish speakers, do correct me with the last one in the translation, thank you in advance :DD

cariño - honey || mi vida - my life || coño - fuck (literally means cunt but google said it can also be used as like 'fuck!' or 'shit!' in English)

"NO DON'T!"

When you ripped yourself from Miguel's hands and jumped down into the black hole to catch the Spider-Man that fell into it, you had two thoughts.

If you die, Miguel would pull you from hell to kill you.

If you lived, Miguel would make sure you'd regret it.

As the void approaches, you latched onto one falling debris and leaped out to get closer to the guy whose wrist’s flicked to release some webs for you to catch on but you ignored it. You’ve seen how using webs to catch someone goes and it didn’t end well, you’re not about to make the same mistakes.

Reaching out to grab the falling Peter's hand, you webbed to the nearest stable item you could before feeling Miguel’s webs wrap around your waist. The momentary fear and adrenaline from saving the spider drained out of your skin almost immediately. Hearing the angry man barking orders above you, you prayed early for your soul.

You're not religious but you'd certainly need a diety's kind soul to take pity on you today once you’re left behind doors with Miguel alone.

"AY COÑO, WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?! DID YOU GET YOUR HEAD HIT SOMEWHERE??"

You grunted, tugging President Spidey with you. "Just pull us up!"

"I should let go of you for being so stupid!"

"Then fucking do it coward!"

Despite his comments, it took one tug from Miguel to pull you and President Spider-Man to a safe spot on a building they were resting at to watch the consequences of altering canon events. The anger radiating out of his body would be enough to trigger your senses, his glare searing a hole through your skull.

Looking up sheepishly, Miguel’s face was contorted into subdued rage. The absolute fury lashing in his dark red eyes made your heart drop to the soles of your feet.

You're absolutely fucked and you don't know if you regret it or not.

On one hand, he's going to murder you and split your body into pieces to feed the kraken version of Doc Ock. But on the other, he's unfathomably hot when he's glaring through your flesh and soul.

How could he be so alluring while plotting your murder? You have no idea.

"We're going to have a talk." His darkened voice made your spine tingle, you nod and turned to run towards Hobi but the firm hand on your shoulder halts you. "Don't move, I'll break your knees if you do."

President Spider-Man shrunk beside you, more intimidated by the threat directed towards you than you do. 

"Is that a threat, boss?"

"No cariño, it's a promise."

Leaping down to greet the quarantine squad, he left the two of you on the rooftops. President Spidey turned to you, worried to the nines for your soul.

"D-do you need to universe hop? You're free to hide at mine, since it's my fault you're gonna get grinded later."

You laughed, slapping him in the back to which he wheezed at. "Don't worry, he won't bite."

•=•=•=•=•=•

Despite your shit attempt of comforting President Spider-Man, he didn't leave your side, ready to jump in front of you if Miguel happens to snap in the middle of the journey back to HQ. Hobie however, attempted to pry him off of your side with an amused smile.

“Have you realized how fucked you are?”

President Spidey hushed him, to which the man raised an eyebrow at. “Don’t say that.”

When you all entered the office, Miguel halted and you all followed. There’s a buzz in the back of your head and a glance at the nervous wreck beside you tells you that he felt it too.

"Everyone except my wife, leave."

President Spidey almost spoke up, probably to request to stay next to you until Hobie swung his arms around his neck and pulled him out, but not before saluting to you.

"I'll burn the ministry in your honor."

His voice echoed in the dimly lit room until the hatch closed shut, isolating you and your husband from the outside world until further notice. You watch as a yellow holographic lady materializes over his shoulder, Layla whose gaze immediately met yours.

"Layla, make sure no one tries to enter my office until I say so. Go hang out with Spiderbyte in the meantime."

"Don't break the poor girl, she didn't do—"

"I don't want to hear it. Leave." 

Sparing you a pitiful smile, she dispersed into the air. With no hatch to escape to, nor any obstacles to run behind, you were left standing a few footsteps away from the man.

"I thought we had an agreement to keep ourselves safe during missions?"

There was a simmering anger hidden behind his words, tone almost dark and bitten back.

"I was safe, you just need to place a little faith on—"

"The last time I did that, the people I cared about died." 

You wanted to defend yourself, bring up being safer since you're Spider-Man and all that but you knew it wouldn't end well. Seeing the seething anger radiating off of him, that's the best course of action.

Hanging your head down with a sigh. "Alright, I'm sorry."

"Sorry's not gonna cut it this time, cariño. I think I have to drill it into you."

Your brain clicks, realizing what he said and you frown. "Fucking is not gonna help us right now, Miguel!"

"Well I don't see you complaining every time it happens, do I? If I recall, you've begged, cried and screamed my name again and—"

Your hand moved faster than your brain as you slapped the man. You gasped, bringing both hands up to your mouth as you watched him go silent.

"I-I'm so sorry, I didn't mean—"

"No no no, I see how it is."

You waited for his next move with bated breath, goosebumps prickling your skin. You debated on taking a few steps back but before you could, he surged with his hands grabbing your neck and slamming you on the wall, stealing the breath from your lungs and you gasped.

“You know the words, mi vida?”

You curled your eyebrows at him. Does he mean your safeword?

“F-fucking get your hands off of me, let's talk."

The light slap on your cheeks shocked you, mouth falling ajar at the action. You couldn’t deny the fact that the sting left by his hand has stirred your desires awake, nor can you even dare to mention how breathless—figuratively and literally—he left you. 

Miguel observed your eyes, cautious of any hurt flashing in them before putting more pressure on the side of your throat and you greedily inhaled more air as much as you could. Dark spots crawl from the side of your vision and fear starts to claw at your heart.

Yet the uncomfortable slickness and ache between your thighs says otherwise.

"Your words."

"I'm not using them!"

The grin curling his lips sent shivers down your spine, doom looming over you.

"Good."

Before you could say anything, he released your throat and you fell to the floor, inhaling greedily for air as your vision slowly repairs itself.

"I've been wanting to tame that mouth of yours since earlier."

You coughed, peering up at him through your eyelashes. "R-really? I thought you liked that about me?"

"Oh really? I thought I said I only liked your mouth, not your voice."

Grabbing your jaw, he forced you to look up before pushing two of his fingers through your lips, pressing down on your tongue as his suit disintegrated to reveal his formal clothes. Miguel's hand threads through your hair, caressing the back of your head before tugging. With a wicked grin, he continued.

"Strip."

It was a command, not a request. The low timbre of his voice sends jolts of pleasure down your spine. Following his heeds like a hypnotized woman, you made quick work of your clothes, tossing them to the side and unshackling your web shooters.

Reaching up, you unbuttoned his pants and took care of his fly before shrugging the clothing down his thighs. The tent in his boxers sent shivers down your spine, a promise of pleasure behind its confines.

Pulling it down, his girth revealed itself to you and your tongue grew heavy inside your mouth, a few dribbles of pre-cum on the tip and the prominent veins giving it an illusion of being larger than it already is. Miguel pulled you closer making you kiss the base of his dick.

"What a sinful face you have, cariño. I'm starting to like this more."

He guided his length to your mouth, smearing his clear arousal on the plush of your lips making you open up only for his hand to come down harshly against your cheeks once more.

The sharp sting immediately melts into hot arousal pooling down your thighs.

"Do you really think you deserve me, mi cielo? After speaking back to me earlier?"

"I want it, please?"

He scoffed. "'Want' it? Do you think you own me? That's funny."

His webs embraced you and he pulled, making you stumble to the floor with a yelp. Being bound tightly by Miguel who towered over you with sadistic glee and glowering eyes, made you feel small all over.

Yet the sick bastard at the back of your head smiled an ugly grin.

"How about we try it again? Maybe if you ask nicely, I'll give you what you wanted."

He pulled you back to a standing position, his hand immediately locking onto your jaw, forcing your eyes to meet his dilated and darkened red pairs that seemed to tempt you to drown yourself in them.

Your eyes fell to the hand pumping himself leisurely and groaned.

"Please? Darling, I want to taste you."

"Do you deserve it?"

"I'm more of an action type of person than a talker."

He said nothing, watching as you fall back to your knees before tapping the head of his cock onto your lips. Once your mouth opened, his hand on your jaw crawled to the back of your head and pushed.

The sudden and wide intrusion down your throat got you gagging yet Miguel only found pleasure from the throb of your muscles constricting around him. 

You remind yourself to breathe through your nose, trying to force yourself through it but your throat complains and you knew you couldn't take it. Slapping his thighs thrice, he pulled away immediately, clicking his tongue while you coughed and gasped for air.

"Bold talk. I knew your mouth wasn't fit for speaking at all. Such a shame it can't do anything at all."

Still focused on the throb in your throat, you weren't able to react fast enough when he pulled you flush to his chest by the web and carried you to the platform where a cushioned chair awaits.

He sat and you ended up on his lap with both his calloused hands grounding you by the shoulder and hips. Miguel's burning eyes roamed the expanse of your chest, one hand rising to trace his gaze with his fingertips and pinching the stiffened peaks of your mounds making you moan from the slightest touch.

"Maybe your pussy could do a better job."

The hand soon crept around your neck with his eyes where it pressed against its sides once more.

It was maddening how you could feel his hardness pressing against your folds yet unable to do much about it. The firm hand on your hips prevents you from grinding down on him. He does reach down to your clit, palming your engorged bead but before you could revel in it, he pulled away.

"Did those slaps get you this wet baby? Didn't know you're such a slut."

Your cheeks lights up and you slapped his cheek lightly for the name he called you, only for Miguel to return it harder.

"You don't get to slap me, slut. The only thing you're for is this pussy."

A wet slap resonated in the room and you cried, thighs closing from the impact on your heat, embarrassment burning your body before shame crawled up your throat as you realized his demeaning behavior seems to only goad you further.

He didn't give you a chance to prepare when he pushed his cockhead into you. Tears brimmed in your eyes as the burn of the stretch stung your veins and stirred your desire further. Every inch inserted tore you apart, the sensation a mixture of heaven and hell, it was delicious as it was painful.

Seeing the struggle in your face, Miguel reached down to roll your clit in slow circles, whispering affirmations into your ears. The moment he sensed your accommodation to his girth did he pull out till his head remained, angling his hips before inserting himself back again to hit the spongy spot on your walls.

You whimpered and moaned in his shoulder as his pace grew with a manic fervor. The pain slowly transitioned into pleasure with the frequency of his thrusts, your nails dug into his shoulder as he pushed himself deeper and deeper into you, narrowly missing your uterus as he pistoned into you.

Mind whirled in ecstasy and lightness brought by his fingers on your throat, you only grabbed onto him for dear life as he quickly dragged you to the edge. 

Feeling the familiar pulse and tightness of your walls around him, Miguel suddenly pulled away and you cried.

"Why did you pull away?"

His hand came down with a loud crack! as it collides with the globes of your ass in quick successions. Your hips twists as you clenched desperately on air. Desire clawed at your throat and you whimpered, body already missing the rush of pleasure he brought with every push.

“Do you think you deserve it, mi vida?”

You nodded and he chuckled darkly. “I don’t think you do.”

Despite his words, Miguel entered you once more, picking up his previous pace. Your previous orgasms arose, walls clamping down onto him, desperate for the release you craved so deeply. There's a wet sound echoing in the room along and you flushed deeper yet far too desperate for euphoria to care. 

His deft fingers found your clit with experienced accuracy and slapped it with every thrust of his hips. 

You shouldn't be enjoying every bit of pain yet here you were, moaning and wriggling your hips for more stimulation like a mad woman.

"My cariño's such a slut taking all of this pain like the whore she is. Bet you liked that spider guy huh? Jumping off like a fool to save a dick, so pathetic."

Miguel pulled away and you cried, the itch of dissatisfaction searing through your body. You clawed at his back as if the pain could threaten him, in response, Miguel swats your rear once more.

"A little slut like you doesn't deserve to cum. After that stupid stunt earlier? Do you think you deserve to come?"

"Yes yes yes."

He slapped you across the face but you could care less, whining.

"Stop being a dick and give it to me, please!"

Clicking his tongue. "Such a desperate slut, I'd slap you for that, but I'm feeling a bit generous."

It was his fingers that attacked you this time, deftly rubbing your clit. Your hips stuttered up to follow his hand.

“Might as well count how many, right?”

Your mind grows lighter as time bleeds against each other. His objections to your orgasms grew frequent as the intervals between your nirvana grew shorter, you have lost count of how many he has denied you and has long stopped doing so, body now laid motionlessly on top of his as you sobbed onto his shoulder from frustration.

Miguel didn't care, in fact, he reveled in your misery every time. 

His hips pistoned faster, tip almost always nudging your spot with every thrust as his lips caught yours in a weakened dance, there was a shift in the air and you knew he had finally relented on dragging it out. 

"Come for me, darling. I want it all, give it to me."

The pleasure that bursted in your veins wasn't like the others from before. The ecstasy woke every nerve ending in your body alight, limbs growing weightless from the shock of pleasure from your orgasm as electric shocks reverberated from your core and to the tip of your fingers.

Your thighs convulsed violently and you screamed, arousal squirting to drench his stomach. Miguel's arms curled around you protectively as you shivered, whispering hushed affirmations in your ears while the impact of a long-denied orgasm shattered you.

"You did so well for me, mi vida. I’m here, no more of that."

Miguel soaked in your every moans and sobs as he murmured something you couldn't catch, mind far too foggy to process.

You didn't even realize that he didn't came, focused solely on comforting you through your high.

His racing heartbeat matched the pace of the throb in your head, you could hear your breathing echo in your ears yet in the state of exhaustion, you found it calming, melodic even. Miguel’s fingers that gave and tore your pleasure away now caressed the back of your head, gently as if you’ll break apart.

You could make out his chapped lips pressing kisses onto your temple as exhaustion won over your body, eyes falling shut with the melodic rhythm of his heartbeat lulled you to sleep.

[mulansaucey]

Drunk Words, Sober Thoughts.

Azriel x Reader

Prompt: Rita has a new supply of Moonshine and gives a jar to the IC. This creates a blacked out drunk Azriel.

Warnings: alcohol use, flirting, suggestive, mentions of sex, drunken behavior. Let me know if I left anything out.

Note: Literally sitting in bed when I had this idea. This is just for fun and I hope you enjoy!

Music playing in the halls of Rita’s surrounds the Inner Circle as well as laughter. Shot glasses banging against their table, squeals of joy from seeing the glasses of those pretty cocktails that Feyre and Mor like so much, and the beautiful smile that graces my mates face. Tonight is for fun and bonding.

Azriel has been on a month long mission just returning to me a few days ago where we cooped up in our cozy home, enjoying the song of our mating bond before returning to society. When he’s gone, there’s a hole in my chest. Color, music, art becomes void. Life is not as exciting without him by my side. Even after decades of being married and mated the bond is still alive and thriving as if it was still the night he took a bite out of that meal I made him to accept him as my mate.

I’m an accomplished fae. I’ve strategized wars, wrote countless books on the plant life of Prythian that has helped healers cultivate new medicines, and have helped the Inner Circle for almost two centuries now. When he’s away, I keep myself occupied and have my job to thank for that but that aching feeling doesn’t go away.

That’s the strength of a mating bond, it brings males to their knees. It brought Azriel to his. Our souls submitting to one another and refusing to settle for anything less than each other.

“What’s so interesting, love?” Azriel teases as I can’t my eyes off him. Those hazel eyes trail over me, even in the haze of faelights it feels like he can see every inch of me. He bites his lip as if he’s recalling just a few hours ago when he was biting the meat of my thighs. I know I am. Heat rises in my cheeks as he laughs and leans down to the leg of my chair and pulls me closer to him. The bond between thrums with satisfaction that our beings are even closer now. His hand finds the back of my neck and he caresses.

“You, my heart. I can’t seem to take my eyes off of you.” I tease him back.

The shots making my mind looser and my flirty tendencies arise. I’m a horny drunk when it comes to this male. Who wouldn’t?

Azriel raises his brows and smirks. He leans down to press a sweet kiss then pulls back.

“You are lovely in this dress. I can’t wait to rip it off you tonight.” He says as he presses sweet kisses along my cheek and jaw.

“Azriel you better not! It’s embarrassing having to keep going to the tailor because you have no self control.”

“Self control? We’ll see how much self control I have later, you’ll begging for me I promise you that.” He laughs.

Suddenly a heavy presence can be felt behind us. I don’t even have to turn to know it’s Cassian.

He slaps the back of Azriel’s chair and loudly yells, “Stop the heavy petting and come to the bar, Rita just got a new drink called ‘Moonshine’ it’s apparently a lot stronger than any wine or whiskey.”

Cassian doesn’t wait for an answer and picks me up while yelling over his shoulder, “If you want her, Az you gotta come get her!” We leave a trail of giggles as my grumpy mate follows.

Azriel trusts his brother and knows Cassian just missed him and wants to have fun. It’s why he doesn’t cut off his hands for touching my body.

Cassian drops me on a bar stool and leans over to drop a sloppy kiss to Nesta’s cheek as she bats him. From the corner of my eye though I can see her pulling him back to her to give him a proper kiss. I’m happy for my friends as they had a very tumultuous start to their mate ship. As I’m trying not to be nosy in my friends business Azriel comes to stand behind me, strategically blocking me from any other males or females view. Azriel is selfish when it comes to me. I can’t blame him, he’s waited centuries for me. And I him.

Rita walks up to us with a jar of clear liquid. It looks innocent, like water, but knowing her that liquid will make you regret ever being born. But that’s the appeal to Rita. She knows how to have fun and has quality supply.

“Alright ladies and gentlebats this is Moonshine. It’s technically whiskey but its process makes the alcohol stronger and you drunker quicker. I will give you a shot, on the house, if you like it I’ll sell a jar to you. This stuff is no joke and illegal in some courts. More recently our High Lord and Lady gave me the okay to produce it.” Rita winks to Feyre and Rhys.

We all look over them and Rhys shrugs, “Feyre wanted to try it, I couldn’t say no.”

We all laugh at the lack of ability our friend has to say no to his wife. I see Feyre eye the glass with excitement.

“Feyre you do the honors of first shot!” I yell out as she takes the glass and downs it in one gulp.

She freezes and we wait on bated breath. Her eye twitches and she gives a full body shiver. We break in laughter at her funny reaction as she immediately takes her fruity cocktail from Rhys, who was mid sip, and takes a few gulps.

Feyre’s face twist in disgust as she tells us, “That’ll definitely get you fucked up, I feel like I’ve grown chest hair.”

Laughter fills our area again. Rhys presses a kiss against Feyre’s head as he reaches for his own shot glass. Each of us besides Amren and Varian, who are currently in Summer, reach for our own. I clank my shot glass against Azriel’s and down my shot. I immediately regret this decision as pure alcohol burns my throat. It’s worse than the tonics Madja gives us. At least we get some what rewarded for that. I put my glass down and look over at my mate. His free hand softly rubbing my upper back, he downs the shot and smack his lips.

“It’s definitely strong but I don’t mind it.” Azriel says to the group.

I pout at him and say, “Of course it doesn’t bother you, Shadowsinger.” He rolls his eyes and moves his hand from the back of my neck to the front. Slowly moving my head back so far I have no choice but to look at him and only him.

“It’s Shadowsinger now is it?” He smirks down at me. Before I can reply peanuts that Rita supplies generously across her bar are being pelted at us. Azriel loosens his hold on me as we both turn to our family.

“You two are like bunnies, I feel like I need to spray you two with a bottle of water.” Nesta says.

I gasp and laugh out, “Like you have any room to talk! The House of Wind is contaminated with you and Cassian’s fluids.” All I get is more peanuts being thrown at me. The two of us dissolve into giggles as I throw them back at her. Cassian and Azriel having to take it away.

Cassian then turns his attention to Rita watching us in amusement.

“We’ll take a jar please, you always know how to make me feel good.” He winks at her. Rita rolls her eyes and passes him the jar.

“I’m charging you extra for that little stunt.” She says back to him.

“Oh c’mon that was a compliment! You’ve got the best stuff in the city.” He argues as Nesta shushes him. Nesta opted out of drinking, instead preferring to smoke mirthroot.

We all go back to our designated booth empty shit glasses in tow. We decide to play truth or drink. Azriel being the secretive person he is rather take the shot then tell the truth. I have a feeling he just wants to indulge the rare drink. I don’t blame him, he works hard for his court and he’s allowed to drop his inhibitions. Ever since we’ve gotten together I’ve taught him about self care and allowing one self to enjoy the moment. The centuries of training and spy work are still instilled in him, something even I can’t take away. But with the love of his mate and family he’s allowed himself to be happy.

I didn’t like the moonshine so I stuck to my cocktails then water, as I had a feeling someone needed to be more sober than the others. Azriel takes his eighth shot when he freezes. I still, looking around to see if anything was amiss. When I look back at him I see him smiling.

“You are a rare jewel.” He says so casually. Looking at me like I’m the only person in the world. He reaches over to brush my hair out of my eyes when instead he pokes me. This clumsy move tells me, he’s drunk. He giggles as I jump back slightly from a literal finger poking my eye.

“I’m so sorry love. Wow your skin is so soft.” Azriel starts touching my face in fascination. He then pulls me into his strong embrace. The awkward is angle but he just sighs constantly. Happy to be holding me. He starts petting my hair as if I’m a cute kitten.

The confused yet amused looks across the table have me pulling back from my mates embrace when he loudly says, “Noooooo, don’t leave me. I was so comfortable.”

I can hear and see Rhys and Cass laughing and clutching each other. Azriel RARELY gets drunk. I feel bad, maybe I should’ve limited how much he could drink since it’s not his usual stuff. Azriel has a fairly high tolerance for his usual whiskey or beer. Eight shots of his regular choice of drink would be nothing but him drinking moonshine has him reacting differently. I feel a little guilty but Azriel has carried me home and taken care of me plenty of times. Tonight I promise myself to return the favor.

“I know my heart, but I need a glass of water and so do you. I’ll be right back, I promise.” I caress his face and he looks at me with so much love I almost don’t want to go even if it’s a few minutes.

“Okay, hurry back. Take a shadow.” He says with a pout. A shadow always sticks with me regardless of his command or not. I shove my love down our bond for his thoughtfulness. Azriel gives me a goofy grin and pushes his love down to me.

“I need a drink, c’mon. Lover boy will be just fine.” Feyre says as she drags me away from my mate.

His eyes trailing after me until Cass and Rhys grab his shoulders to get his attention. Knowing my mate is in safe hands has me turning to Feyre. We talk a little about her art studio and Nyx. She confesses to having a bit of Mom guilt when she goes out. The alcohol making her a bit weepy from missing her son. I distract her by dragging her to the dance floor, after checking to make sure Azriel was still with the boys and has a glass of water.

After a few songs Mor and Nesta join us. I still keep an eye on my mate, making sure he’s okay and having fun. The next time I turn my eyes to him he’s gone. Panic fills my chest as I look around the bar for him. When I look up to the second floor I see him and his brother attempting to climb the rail. At that moment I decide it’s time to go home. I grab the girls and haul their asses the second floor before any of our mates cracks their skull open. The boys had way more moonshine than we did.

We successfully get them away from the railing, I grab Azriel’s face and he gently shoves me off of him. I frown at him, water lining my eyes at his rejection towards me. I go to ask him what’s wrong but before I do he tells me, “I am a mated male! You can not touch me.”

He sways a little grabbing onto Rhys for support. Rhys is already getting yelled at by his High Lady but she stops to turn to Azriel in amusement.

“What did he just say?” Feyre says to me. I stay silent for a moment realizing the situation. I slightly smile at my mates loyalty even though it is me who is touching him. I tell Feyre to grab Rhys and I can handle Azriel.

“Azriel, my heart. It’s me, I’m your mate.” I tell him gently helping him find his balance.

“I don’t want to go home with you. I want my mate. She will take care of me. I don’t need you.” As he’s still struggling to walk. I ignore him and help him down the stairs all the while he’s protesting insisting he has a wife and mate waiting for him at home. I roll my eyes fondly. Knowing it’s going to a rough walk home. He insists that I only touch his arm.

“I am a gentleman and my wife would be mad I let you walk home alone but I am not sharing a bed with you. She is only one I share my bed with. I love her.” He says to me, total seriousness.

I take a look at him noting his shirt is wrinkled from Cassian constantly grabbing onto him, his hair is wild, and his walk is staggered. I make a mental note to never let him drink Moonshine again. He trips slightly making me grab onto his back and front. He looks at me weirdly and takes my hands off his body.

“I don’t know youuuu. My body is reserved for my wife, I am fine with walking on my own.” His words are sloppy and he trips again. Laughing at him I ignore his protests and guide him to our shared home. The walk is a struggle as he keeps tripping yet insisting I keep my hands off him. I shove my love down the bond hoping he’ll recognize me that way. I feel more assured that even if I wasn’t with him and he was drunk he’d always come home to me. I hear him sigh with content and he lazily slaps his chest.

“This here, in my heart, she’s calling to me. I need to go home to her. I can feel her. I want to go home.” He pouts.

“Okay big guy, I’m gonna get you home to her. I’m sure she misses you.” I say, playing along. If I play along I’m hoping it’ll make him more amiable.

“She does! I can feel her even when I’m miles and miles away. I miss her too. Sometimes when I’m in the same room as her, I miss her. I just want her all to my self.” He confesses, I notice he’s started to slowly relax letting me guide him home. The thought of seeing me being his motivator. My heart is fluttering seeing him like this. Azriel is usually so smooth and calculated. His words to me sound like poetry, like a crafted song made just for me to hear. Now he’s confessing his love to, how he perceives, a stranger. Apart of me knows that he must know it’s me. Even if it’s deep down. But I can’t help but feel so special to him.

I finally spot our home, the sight of our porch makes me let an out a sound of relief.

Azriel looks to what I see and goes, “How do you know where I live? I don’t remember telling you. I wouldn’t have told you! I told you that I don’t want to go home with you.” He pushes himself away from me stumbling to our small gate. He struggled to unlock and me being exhausted from helping a 6’5 Illryian male slap his hands away and move to open it. He rubs his hand where I slapped and looks at me with a pout.

“Oh you’re okay! Stop being a baby and come inside please.” I tell him, laughing lightly at him. He moves to walk past me but turns before I can even take a step on the porch.

“This is as far as you can go. My wife will not be disrespected by having another female in our home.” He says with a serious face. The message isn’t as threatening since he’s still swaying and eyes glossed over. I smile at him and make a move to walk around him but he pushes his arms out, clumsily I might add, and repeats what he just said. I hold my arms up in surrender to this ridiculous statement.

“Azriel, my heart. I am your wife, you are mated to me. And I want to be in our bed and snuggle. Don’t you?” I ask giving him my best puppy dog eye. I don’t even know if it’ll work if the liquor made him forget who I was entirely. He goes to reply when he bends over to his side and pukes. I rush to his side and rub his back. He stand up again and leans against a pillar on our porch. His face smushed against it I can faintly hear.

“I want my mate…I’m not going home with you.” I roll eyes, trying not to get upset with him because it isn’t his fault and I know I’m not a doll to be around when I’m drunk. I walk towards our door, it unlocks automatically due to the ward Azriel insisted on placing. I try to gently push him inside. His wings knocking over a vase I was gifted from a past High Lord of Summer, I grimace as the antique lays broken on the floor. He looks around for what made the loud sound and he gasps loudly as if I was the one broken on the floor.

“My wife is going to kill me! Fuck, fuck, shit. Oh my gods I need to go to summer now! I need to go before she notices it’s broken.” He says making a move for the door. I immediately put a stop to that and drag him to our bedroom. I think he’s exhausted himself and flops down on the bed. Not making any moves. I start unlacing his boot and once I’ve got them off I go for his pants.

He slaps my hands away and goes, “I can undress myself. You have no right to touch me there! Go home before my wife finds you, she’ll kill you. My mate is verrrry possessive of me. She won’t like youuuu.” He sings at me.

He starts giggling and taking off his pants and shirt while moving to grab my pillow and holds onto it like it’s the answer of all his prayers.

“I miss her so much. I’m in bed but she isn’t here. It smells like her, I never want to smell anything again. Only her.” I make a face at him, I didn’t see how that makes sense but he’s drunk so I don’t question it. I make sure he has a glass of water and is tucked into bed before I make my move to join him. As soon as I start to move the cover he jolts back up, still clutching my pillow.

“Thank you for taking me home but I insist you take the couch. I will never share a bed with another female. I will not have our marriage bed tainted by a stranger.” He says eyeing me like I’m the King of Hybern resurrected.

“Enough, sweetheart. Tonight has been really funny and sweet but I want to sleep. Don’t you want to cuddle?” I say, I glance at the clock noting the late hour. He doesn’t make a move and stays silent. Giving me the answer I needed.

“As I stated you can take the couch as thank you but you have to leave before my WIFE comes home.” Azriel states, emphasizing the wife part as if I’m the drunken one.

“Okay I give up, I’m sleeping on the couch. Goodnight my love.” I say stealing a quick kiss from him that leaves him stuttering and blushing.

“Y-you just kissed me! That’s so rude, that’s-“ I close the door cutting off his rant. I go down the hall for our closet where we keep the extra blankets and pillows. I settle in our large and comfy couch that Azriel insisted on getting when we moved in. I’m now thankful he insisted. I start laughing recalling the night. Tonight was stressful but has shown me how loved I am. I have a male who’s loyal and kind. Even when he thought I was a stranger he wanted to walk me home so I wasn’t alone. I’m thankful to call him mine. I’m thankful to be his. I drift off to sleep with a soft smile, excited to tease him to no end in the morning for this stunt he pulled tonight.

——

Sunlight enters my home, the warmth of it caressing my cheek. I nuzzle closer to the warmth when I realize it’s Azriel’s hand. He’s sitting on the floor, his hair is a mess and he’s laying his head down close to mine. His eyes look groggy and I can tell he didn’t have a good sleep.

“Where were you last night? I couldn’t sleep without you.” He whispers gently, as if the sound of his own voice made his head ache.

I start laughing loudly, Azriel flinching back and rubbing his head. I start laughing so hard I start crying. My mate looks at me unamused.

“I’m sorry my love. But you literally kicked me out of our bed and made me sleep here. You insisted.” I tell him, laughter seeping through my words.

His mouth drops down in shock. He’s still rubbing his head and I feel bad so I start massaging his scalp the way I know he likes. I gets himself up off the floor and into my awaiting arms. Azriel secretly loves being the small spoon so I baby him and rub down his back and up into his scalp. The mating bond compelling me to make sure he’s okay and loved.

I start recalling the night for him. Apparently after that eighth shot he completely blacked out. He doesn’t remember a single thing from last night past that point. He grumbles and hides his face in my neck. His words coming out muffled.

“I’m so sorry. I hate not being in control like that. I’m sorry for treating you like that.” He says while pressing kisses on my neck and he squeezes me even tighter.

“It’s okay, you’ve taken care of me plenty of times when I’m drunk. I’m glad you were having fun and it was really sweet of you to defend my honor and our bond even if it was me. I love you so much for it.” I tell him making sure his eyes were on me. I cradled his face, caressing the scars and stubble that reside there. He leans down to give me soft kiss once, twice, three times before he nuzzles his nose against mine.

Azriel may be hard to read, stoic, and cold to everyone else but here, in the privacy and intimacy of our home he’s lovable and soft. A privilege to be able to see this of side. The decades of trust and memories helping him become a more loving person.

“How are you feeling though?” I ask him, he groans and lays his head down.

“I feel like absolute death. Actually death would be more merciful than what I’m feeling now.” My mate, the dramatic. I go to move to make him some tea and a light meal for his tummy but he just holds me tighter.

“Just stay for a little longer, I finally feel better now that I’m with you.”

Who am I to resist and say no? So I settle in and relishbeing with my mate and husband. Enjoying a quiet morning after such a loud night.

[raointean]

I actually love the idea that Billy and William fused instead of just body-hoping. William would have died if Billy didn't come in and they fused! I love him saying that he has a mom because adoption right 🎉

Yes! The alternative is just too sad for me. As for the adoption thing, it's NOT just this fandom that struggles to understand bio vs. adoptive parents. I'm in the Star Wars fandom and there are SO MANY PEOPLE that refer to Anakin and Padmé as Luke and Leia’s "real" parents. Meanwhile, Owen, Beru, Bail, and Breha are called kidnappers or just ignored entirely (yes, I loved the Obi-Wan show. Why do you ask?)

I think the same problem is sometimes happening in this fandom too. We know Wanda and Vision as characters and we want them to be a happy family. We do NOT know Rebecca and Jeff Kaplan nearly as well, so there's a tendency to want to take the child from the characters we don't know as well and give him to the characters we know, like, and want to be happy.

On a slightly happier note, here's all my headcanons about Billy Kaplan's life (not Billy Maximoff or William Kaplan, but the entity that is both of them)

As William's heart stopped, his soul separated from his body and was on its way to wherever Jewish people go when they die

Billy M's soul, at the same time, was fleeing because it didn't have a body to support it

He found William's body easy enough to get into (because a soul had just left it) and close enough to alive to be fixed

However, William's soul was in between Billy M and the body

Billy M could have gone around and been the only soul in the body, but he was scared, okay?

Poor guy was only a couple days old, alone for the first time ever, and his mom had just kinda killed him and the rest of his family

Long story short, Billy M crashes into William and drags them both into the body

Billy M fixes the body just enough to keep living, but doesn't bother too much about the head injury

Meanwhile, William is stuck to Billy M like silly putty when you have two different colors and, by the time they get to the hospital, the two colors have blended entirely to form a new color

There's no way to differentiate one from the other

Billy Kaplan is born!

Because Billy M didn't fix the head injury, they both have amnesia

Billy K wakes up and it's literally "no thoughts, head empty"

(Except for some lingering sensation of loneliness... like there should be something someone? else there)

But not for long because he soon discovers he can hear other people's thoughts!

Which is really funny because he doesn't know that other people can't hear his thoughts

Poor guy genuinely thinks that humans communicate via telepathy for a solid 24 hours before he gets enough weird looks that he puts two and two together

(His parents are totally aware of this

There's only so many times your kid can answer exactly the thought going through your head without you catching on

Also, this is the Marvel universe!

Shit like this just... happens sometimes

They figure he'll come to them when he's ready, and until then they'll think nice thoughts and be supportive)

Billy K spends a solid four months trying to remember who he was before, stealing memories from his parents' heads, and pretending to recover from the amnesia

(Rebecca and Jeff try so hard not to make him feel like they're just waiting for their old son to come back but...)

Four months in, Billy's at the mall with his mom on some errands and that's where he sees it

Hot Topic

He begs his mom to go in there, and it's the first really normal teenage thing he's done since the car crash so she lets him

For the first time in four months, Billy forgets all about car crashes, and memories, and hospitals, and expectations

All that exists is spiky jewelry, ripped black skinny jeans, and a million of those cheap and hilarious pins

Over time, the family settles into his "new normal" and chalk most of it up to teenage experimentation

In that three year period though, Billy can't shake the feeling that something's still missing

He feels out of place in his body, even with the new aesthetic

(He sees that one tumblr comic about the coocoo bird and cries-- a lot. It's the closest he ever gets to telling his parents about his out-of-place feeling)

He doesn't tell them though

Instead, he digs and digs into the weirdest, darkest, most demented corner of the internet

Reddit

[solaris-amethyst]

🪻If something chases you, run🪻

✨Pairing: Matz x afab!reader ✨Prompt: Can you please write some Matz x fem!reader angst based on the acting videos of Hongjoong and Seonghwa🙏 only if you're comfortable of course, and I will take literally anything🥺 ✨Requested by a lovely anon🫶🏻 ✨Word count: 3.3k ✨Genre: non idol au, angst, slight fantasy au, horror, thriller 🌙Warnings: mdni, death, dismembering, decapitation, possession, gore, blood, choking, being chased by what you cannot see, self blame for what is happening, wishing you would perish instead of others. please let me know if I've missed a warning! ☀️Authors note: Thank you for requesting❣️I cannot believe I managed to write 3.3k words for this one tbh🤯 The two videos being referenced in the requests are these: Hongjoong and these two for Seonghwa! Hope you enjoy this one despite it being angst🫶🏻 Also I am so sorry to all the Hongjoong and Seonghwa stans out there for their fates in this one shot...

It was dark.

The three of you were running trying to get away from whatever it was chasing you. You had always been told not to go out in the dark by the elders of your village but the three of you had only thought it was old tales used to keep the kids in line.

Turns out you had been wrong this whole time.

Your grandma had explicitly told you when you were a kid: "The creatures out there will hunt you down, you might think you have escaped but unless you make it back into the village you never have and never will my dear. They will tear you apart limb by limb as they consume your soul or worse, they will inhabit your body after they've consumed your soul. So be careful and do not go outside of the village once the sun has set. Remember this, if something chases you, run."

As a kid you had marveled at her stories and sworn to never go outside in the dark but as you grew up you and your friends couldn't help but feel like it was something they just said because the elders didn't want to have to go out in the dark searching for someone when they could have been asleep.

"I can't keep running much longer!!" You heaved out trying to keep up with your friends, it felt like it was impossible.

"You have to!! Come on!! Don't give up!!" Seonghwa screamed before slightly slowing down so he could grab your arm and help you run, even if it felt like you were continuously being dragged instead of running.

Seonghwa was desperate as he continue to run dragging you along with him. His grip on your arm was so tight that it was hurting but you had no chance nor will to complain about this.

Not when you could end up in a much worse situation if he didn't.

You looked ahead to see Hongjoong sprinting, the torch in his hand glowing bright, the flames flickering back towards you. He was leading you back to home in the darkness, his orange hair shining brightly in the night.

You cursed in your head that the three of you had wandered outside so far away from your home and its protective walls now when it had become a matter of life or death.

"We're almost at the bridge!! Hurry!!" Hongjoong yelled, he sounded tired and out of breath, which was to no surprise. The three of you had wandered at least an hour away from your home before the creatures had found you three.

You were so close to getting to safety that you thought it would all be over when suddenly something was grabbing your legs, yanking hard, forcing you to the ground with a scream. Seonghwa almost falling with you as you were ripped out of his grasp.

"Y/N!!" He screamed desperately turning around trying to grasp your hands. Whatever was griping onto your legs was causing wounds to appear where whatever malevolent being was holding you as it dragged you back towards the dark looming forest.

"HWA!! JOONGIE!!" you screamed terrified as your best friends first stared in horror as you were being dragged away from them before both sprinted into action.

Desperate to save you.

Seonghwa hurries to grab your hands, he looks terrified as he tries so hard to get you away while Hongjoong rushes towards your legs, where this invisible force is dragging you. He swings the torch hoping that it will make whatever is hurting you let you go.

Unfourtunatly it does not work. It only makes whatever is clawing at your legs and drag you towards the forest harder.

Long tears appear on your calves and you let out a scream in pain.

"Let her go!!!!" Hongjoong tries everything he can think of with the torch but nothing works.

"Come help me!!!" Seonghwa screams at him and he eventually does letting go of the torch and rushing to Hwa. Both are gripping your arms and at one point it felt like you were going to be torn apart.

More panic start settling into your bones when you realize you are slowly slipping out of their hands. Your boys have a look of realization of what is going to happen a second too late and you're dragged back as they get blown back.

It all happened so fast. You tried to claw with your hands on the ground, screaming and kicking as you're dragged away.

"SEONGHWA!! HONGJOONG!!"

"Y/N!!!!"

Both of their voices echoes loudly as you suddenly are stopped in the middle of the woods. Whatever was hurting you has let your legs go.

Sitting up is painful and looking down at your own legs makes you almost puke. There is blood everywhere. Long wounds, looking similar to the smaller wounds you would sometimes get from playing with the barn cats on your legs. The blood is oozing out of the wounds creating a puddle below you.

Your hands are shaking as you try to rip a part of your skirt so you can dress your wounds.

"Please let them be okay." You whisper shakily to yourself. Logically you should have been dead by now.

That's always how the stories went when your grandma told them to you.

"If someone has to die." you sob quietly to yourself feeling terrified in the dark woods, no light coming through the dense forest. "Then let it be me." You cry, not wanting to think about your friends, your boys, potentially leaving this earth and leaving you behind.

"Why did I say we should go so far away? Gosh I'm so stupid." You berate yourself as you cry.

You shakily wrap your wounds with the ripped parts of your skirt. Hands trembling and you try not to make any pained noises when you eventually try to stand up.

It hurts a lot. Taking one step sends pain up your legs and your entire body shivers because of it.

You look around, not sure where you are. With shaky steps you walk towards where you think the boys would be. Whatever had dragged you to where you had ended up at had not just dragged you in a straight line and due to the darkness you could not just follow the marks on the ground back to where the bridge would be located.

Back with the boys who were panicking, screaming for you. Running straight into the forest, torch forgotten as they call out for you.

"Y/N!! WHERE ARE YOU??!!" Hongjoong yells loudly, the helpless feeling of failure is slowly settling into his bones.

Seonghwa next to him is sobbing, in a full-blown panic looking at him with bloodshot eyes.

"Do you think she's dead?" He ask, stuttering as he grips Hongjoongs shoulders tightly. "Did we loose her?? Did I lose one of my best friends??"

He is lightly shaking him. Hongjoong looks at his friend and tries to appear brave and certain when he says:

"N-no, she can't be dead. If she were we would have heard her. She's alive. We have to find her. W-we can't go back without her." He says stuttering two times when tears threaten to fall, his voice getting thick with emotions.

He gently takes Seonghwas hands into his and squeezes them.

"We will find her, we will get out of this. We will survive. All of us." He says and he can see his friend registering the words he says through his panic because Hwa is nodding at him even tho his eyes are still wide, looking around in panic, chest heaving.

"P-promise?"

"I promise."

Seonghwa takes a minute to collect himself before nodding. They both turn back to the darkness to start searching for you again and Seonghwas hand has not stopped gripping Hongjoongs.

It hurts but Hongjoong allows it. It keeps him slightly grounded into reality as the pain brings him back when his thoughts flees to the worst case scenarios.

And if it brings some sense of comfort to his friend he won't stop it.

Not right now.

Not ever.

The two of them wander into the forest, calling out your name hoping that if they hear your voice respond to their calls, it's actually you and not something else mimicking you or possessing you.

For you, it was a whole different story. Wandering alone, every step hurting, the cloth you had wrapped around your legs were slowly being stained into a deep burgundy shade. It had slowly become easier to see in the darkness surrounding you and it had made it easier to navigate in the dark.

There is no wind blowing through the trees and there is only silence surrounding you creating an uncertain and slightly haunting surrounding. Had there been noises, perhaps an owl or a wolf in the distance you would have not felt so alone.

The silence was not bringing you any comfort whatsoever.

"Joongie?? Hwa??" You called out "Where are you?? Please don't leave me alone here." You mumble feeling scared that you might have been left alone.

You knew logically that they'd never leave you but when fear festers in your heart doubt sows it seeds.

You had been wandering around for maybe ten minutes when you heard two loud screams in the distance.

Your boys.

"JOONGIE! HWA!!" You scream their nicknames and hurried as fast as you could towards the place their screams came from. You hope desperately that what had scared them was just a normal animal and not one of those creatures ready to feast on them.

As you limp your way forward you eventually come closer to a clearing in the woods.

You can see someone on the ground.

You instantly recognize that orange mop of hair.

"Hongjoong!!!" You call out his name but he doesn't seem to be able to hear you.

His eyes are focused on something entirely different, something you cannot see. He looks scared, his eyes wide and mouth open as his chest is heaving. You try calling his name again louder hoping he can see you as you wave towards him.

"HONGJOONG!!"

He still doesn't react, he looks afraid as he looks around before he brings up his hands to his head gripping his hair as he leets out a terrified scream before a light engulfs him and when the light is no more the clearing is empty.

You hurry up to the clearing, searching for him whilst muttering no no no no no over and over again. You had been so close to being reunited with your friend only for him to disappear right infront of you.

Just as you stand up you hear the most bloodcurdling scream from him up in the distance which makes your own blood freeze. Despite your injuries you find new willpower to run.

You run even though it's sending waves of pain up your body. Hongjoong never screamed like that. It makes you fear that hes been hurt beyond help and you have to make sure that is not true.

Eventually you come across a sight that makes you wanna throw up.

There's blood everywhere, limbs torn apart, the insides of someone's stomach splattered out on the ground.

You walk around carefully, trying to keep your breathing steady.

It cannot be Hongjoong you think to yourself in denial, refusing to believe that he could be dead. Only to stumble over something and fall to the ground. Getting blood all over yourself and when you look up from the ground you're met with a horrific sight.

It makes you scream so loudly you're sure everyone in the forest heard you.

Hongjoongs decapitated head.

His eyes still wide open, the look of fear still present in his eyes, mouth hanging open in a silent scream.

"No! No no no no no no! Hongjoong!" You sob as you realize it is your friend who has been maimed, hes been ripped apart to shreds and you're covered in his blood. You learned that you had tripped over his ripped apart arm when you glanced down towards your feet.

You carefully pick up his head, the very sight of the atrocity that had befallen him made you wanna scream again, throw up and faint all at the same time.

Holding his head close to you, you sob out apology after apology to him.

"I'm sorry! I am so sorry Joongie! I should have never encourage us to go out during the night so far from our village. I'm sorry." You wail loudly.

His death was on your hands.

Maybe not directly but indirectly you had caused this. You had caused the injuries on your legs, you had caused one of your best friends to die and another one wandering around, perhaps hurt or killed as well here in the forest.

As you're sitting there crying, a low growl can be heard from behind you, a sickening crunching noise can be heard as well and as you look back slowly you can see that there is something eating his limbs.

The very sight of it causes your brain to choose flight.

Sprinting away.

You're still holding Hongjoongs head in your arms. If there is one thing you have to do then it's get him home. So he can have a proper burial. You won't leave him. Not to be some creatures dinner.

As you sprint through the dark forest, the trees looming over you, you can hear a familiar voice.

"Hongjoong??!! Y/n??!!"

You sprint harder, you're not sure how much longer you can run. Your legs are sure to give out soon. Your head has started to feel faint.

"Seonghwa!!"

You see him as you manage to get out, you're close to where you had been before you had been dragged away. Seonghwa turns around when he hears your voice and you can see the tearstained cheeks and the relief of seeing you before it turns to slight horror at the sight of your friends head in your arms.

"Y/n!!" He sprints towards you, he looks desperate.

You're bloodied and look terrified in his eyes but he can't find himself to be scared right now. He feels relieved that you're alive. He had heard Hongjoongs scream earlier and had suspected he had perished, he had hoped that he was wrong.

His head in your arms showed he was right.

As the two of you get closer he opens his arms to embrace you. He needs to hug you. To feel that you're real. Just as he reaches you, his arms almost enclosing around you, he falls down.

Had you not been so weak you would have grabbed his arms just the way he had when this had happened to you. He screams in pain as his legs get slashed like yours, he is fighting back, trying to crawl forward, trying to reach you.

"Seonghwa! No!"

"Y/n!! Run!!"

"I can't leave you!!"

"Yes you can! Save yourself!" "NO!"

You limp after him and when you get close to being able to grab his arms something stops you.

It's like an invisible wall.

"NO NO NO NO SEONGHWA!!" You yell banging on the invisible wall, trying desperately to break it so you can reach him.

You two make eye contact as he reaches a shaking hand towards you.

Then it happens, the light and Seonghwas scream is almost as bad if not worse than Hongjoongs bloodcurdling one and you cannot help the feeling of defeat washing over you as you slid down, silent tears falling down your cheeks again as you sob his name over and over.

Your eyes are now burning from how much you have cried this night.

What you see when the light goes down surprises you, Seonghwa is sitting there on his legs, chest heaving but he doesn't seem hurt at all. You had thought you would be greeted with the same horrific sight you had stumbled upon earlier when you found Hongjoong.

What you fail to notice is the smirk he has on his face and the evil glint in his eyes before he gets up and walks towards you.

"S-seonghwa. You're alive." You say flabbergasted.

"Y/n." He sinks down and brings you in for a hug, holding you tight and you can feel yourself relax into his warm embrace. Thinking that finally you two can get home safely.

Seonghwa smirks as you relax into his embrace as one of his hands comes up and wraps around your neck, gripping it tightly choking you as he stands up. You're being choked while dangling a little over the ground.

You gasp trying to get him to let you go, looking at him in surprise and panic.

"S-seonghwa! L-let me go!" You rasp out fearfully not understanding why he is doing this. Had you remembered what your grandmother used to tell you, you would have never let him get close to you after the light had happened.

"Oh sweetie your Seonghwa doesn't exist anymore." He chuckles darkly as he stares intently into your eyes. He looks gleeful as if your pain and fear brings him much joy and ecstasy.

"What." You stutter the word out in disbelief.

"Oh yes, did your parents never warn you about what we do? You either end up like your friend in your arms or like your friend Seonghwa who I am now the owner of." He says with a laugh and you fight hard to get out of his grip.

Panic starts setting in and you do the only thing you can think of which is to kick his stomach. Luckily that seems to work as he lets you go groaning whilst holding his stomach.

The adrenaline now pumping through your body must have given you the last little bit of energy you could have needed to get a head start running towards the bridge.

Towards safety and towards home.

Behind you Seonghwa cackles loudly before the quick steps can be heard behind you. Stupidly enough you look back to see how far behind you he is and you notice he is not yet running but walking fast.

The way he stalks after you and the constant smirk like a predator slowly approaching his prey combined with his eyes is more unsettling than if he had been running after you. He's bloodied from hugging you earlier and from his own wounds and the sight is something you find hard to look away from.

Because you're not looking where you are running you end up taking a tumble over a rock, scraping up your knees and dropping Hongjoongs head causing it to roll back towards Seonghwa.

You go to try and pick it up but when you see that he is already picking it up you decide to try and make it to the bridge instead.

Hongjoong would have wanted you to save yourself.

Getting up from the ground and sprinting towards the bridge, you can hear how his steps have grown faster.

"I'm going to get you!" He screams as you near the bridge, taunting you.

And by some sheer luck you get onto the bridge and manages to cross it without Seonghwa catching you.

As you stop shakily by the entrance of your village you turn one last time to look back at him with tearstained cheeks and guilt in your eyes.

Seonghwa is standing there with a manic look on his face, holding Hongjoongs head in his arms. He's drenched in blood, more so than he had been earlier. It's dripping from his body and all he does is stare at you.

Stare directly into your soul before he laughs haughtily. He stands there never taking his eyes off you as you take your next steps into safety.

You will always wonder if it had been luck or if he had knowingly let you cross. To let you sit with all the guilt of loosing both of your friends. Having to face their families and tell them what had happened and the fate you had indirectly led them to. To tell your own family what you had done and then being shunned by everyone.

Perhaps that was his plan, to have you feel so bad you'd one night come out voluntarily and cross that bridge again.

[sissylittlefeather]

How the Web Was Woven: The End

A/N: This. This series is my Mona Lisa, my Sistine Chapel, and these final brush strokes literally tore me apart. I poured my soul into this one. If you hate it, please don't tell me. But if you love it, please do because this is my everything. I hope it's enough.

Need to catch up? Masterlist

Warnings: mentions of death, illness, reference to sex, I think that's all.

Word count: ~2.5k

Four and a half years. That's all you have left. It's not enough.

******

The years slip away with Elvis going back and forth every couple of months like he did before. The kids get older, you get older, and Elvis gets older too. Every time he leaves, it tears out another piece of your heart knowing it's getting closer and closer to the last time you'll see him. He's in good spirits every time he visits, but it's hard not to notice his body declining. Making a portal to send him home gets harder and harder, but he still maintains that he's fine. You both know he's not, but what is there to do about it?

And then, before you know it, it's July of 2027, or 1977 for him. John Jessie is 10, Erin Love is 7. Your babies have been replaced with kids and your youthful, vigorous husband is replaced with a man you know is past his prime. He doesn't know it, but you do. He has a little over a month left and you find yourself falling apart at the smallest things. He kisses the back of your hand while you all watch a movie together and you have to get up and go to the bathroom to weep. He sings in the shower and you lay in your bed and rock your body while the tears stream down your cheeks. You drive to dinner with him in the backseat of your minivan between the kids watching a movie on the little screen that comes down from the ceiling of the car and when he laughs you almost have to pull over to keep from crashing as you drive with teary eyes.

He stays with you for a full three weeks because you continue making excuses to keep him around. You need him to help with this or the kids have something going on that he should be there for. In reality, you can't bear the thought of saying goodbye. Because this time you know it's really going to be goodbye. And you can't tell him, so he'll treat it like any other parting. He'll kiss your cheek and say "until next time, honey" like he always does.

But you know there won't be a next time. And the knowing is eating you alive.

In early August, a summer thunderstorm rips through in the middle of the night. Elvis is still there, wrapped around you breathing softly as you lay awake trying not to cry. There's a sharp flash of lightning and not ten seconds later, a crash of thunder tears into the quiet night. You listen for opening doors and sure enough, in less than a minute Erin is in your room and on your bed.

"Daddy!" Elvis sits up and she snuggles into his warmth. He strokes her hair and shushes her gently.

"You're okay, baby girl. Daddy's got you."

John Jessie walks up to the bed cautiously.

"She okay? I just came to check on Erin-" There's another flash of lightning and John Jessie jumps. When the thunder crashes, he crawls into the bed next to you. He might be a big 10-year-old, but you're still his mama. The rain is coming down in torrential waves and you hear hail start to plunk against the windows.

You and Elvis sit with both kids in between you and the power flickers. Erin gasps and John Jessie pats her hand.

"It's okay, sister." Elvis kisses her hair.

"Your brother is right, sweetheart. Nothin' to worry about."

Just then, the power goes out fully.

"Daddy!"

"We're alright. Your mama will go get a candle to light." He looks to you in the dark and you grab your phone and turn the flashlight on. Then, you slide out of bed to find a candle and a lighter. It takes you a minute of fumbling around the house to get what you're looking for. When you make your way back down the hall to the bedroom you pause just outside the door and your heart stops.

He's singing.

In the twilight glow I see

Blue eyes crying in the rain

When we kissed goodbye and parted

I knew we'd never meet again

Love is like a dying ember

And only memories remain

And through the ages I'll remember

Blue eyes crying in the rain

Some day when we meet up yonder

We'll stroll, hand in hand again

In a land that knows no parting

Blue eyes crying in the rain

When he reaches the end of the song, you're on your knees on the floor in the hallway, tears soaking the front of your night shirt, biting your knuckle and trying not to hyperventilate.

How will you survive without him?

You won't. You can't.

The power flicks back on and you hear both kids cheer. You quickly try to pull yourself back together and as you do, you make a decision.

You're not sure how you'll pull it off, or if you even can, but your mind is made up to try.

You walk back into the room and get back in bed with a new determination.

"You okay, honey?" Elvis looks at you curiously. You smile brightly.

"Mhmm! Now, let's get these kids back in their own beds." He shakes his head.

"You're somethin' else, honey. Twenty years together and you still keep me on my toes." He leans over and kisses you softly and then you each take a kid back to their bedroom. When you come back together, you settle into his arms and relax. Tomorrow, you'll think of a plan.

******

The next day comes and goes and so does Elvis. While the kids are at school, you make love and open a portal. You give him the next rendezvous point for the fall, knowing you'll see him before then. As expected, he kisses you and says he'll see you next time. Before he leaves, though, you grab him one last time and pull him into a deep kiss. Memories of every one of your kisses over the last 20 years comes crashing into you and you shake as you hold him, not wanting to let go. You have your plan, but if it doesn't work out, you want your last kiss to be a real one.

"Honey, do you want me to stay?" The portal shimmers behind him.

"Yes. But I know you can't."

"I don't have to go right now. We can make another one later." You look into his eyes, the same eyes that met yours in fear when he first appeared in 2007.

"No. If you don't go now, I'll never let you go."

"Honey, are you sure you're okay?" He doesn't want to leave you if there's something wrong.

"I'll be fine. Now go. I'll see you soon." He smiles softly and kisses your forehead.

"I love you with all of me, y/n. Always have and I always will."

"I love you too, Elvis." He squeezes you tightly one last time and then turns and walks through the portal. When it disappears, you sink to the floor. You have no more tears, so instead you pray. You pray for him, for his body and his soul. You pray for yourself and your kids. And you pray that your plan will work.

******

On August 15th, 1977, at 10:30 pm Elvis arrives at his dentist's office. It's a rather routine appointment, so he doesn't think too much of it. But when he gets back to the room and sees the shimmering portal, he's stunned.

This is not your agreed-upon meetup time or place. Somehow, he's alone in the room, but he knows he doesn't have much time before the dentist comes back. He decides there must be some urgent reason for you to show up here and a pang of worry hits him. Hopefully the kids are alright. The dentist knocks to let him know he's coming back in the room and Elvis takes a breath and walks through the portal, hoping he can get back without the dentist noticing.

"Honey, what the-" and then he sees you. Your eyes are wild and you're chewing on your thumbnail. It looks like you haven't slept in days, because you haven't, and your eyes are puffy and red with the remnants of your last crying spell. He immediately walks to you and wraps his arms around you. "What happened? Is it the kids?"

You lean against him and take in his warmth. You're afraid to move or speak in case something you do upsets him and causes what you're trying to avoid.

"No, it's not the kids. They're fine."

"Then what is-"

"It's you."

"Me? What about me?" You back up and look into his face. How will you tell him?

"You- if..." You trail off, not sure what to say.

"Honey, you're scaring me. You better tell me what's going on right now."

"I have to tell you something. And I need you to trust me. And then you have to make a choice." Your heart is pounding in your chest. You've thought of this moment so many times in the past two weeks and now it's here. The decision to give him a choice was not an easy one, but you know him. Telling him what to do is never the right option.

"Y/n. What the hell are you talking about?"

You take a deep breath, close your eyes and pray silently. Then, you open your eyes and look at him standing in front of you.

"You're going to die tomorrow." It hangs in the air between you like some tangible thing.

"What?" He almost whispers it.

"If you go back, you will die tomorrow. You have to."

"What do you mean, I have to?"

"Because you already did. Look." You hold your phone up to him and show him on Google. Elvis Presley, January 8th, 1935-August 16th, 1977.

He backs away from you and covers his mouth in shock. He shakes his head.

"No. I don't believe it."

"Elvis, why would I lie to you about this?" He looks up at you with tears in his eyes. He searches yours for evidence that this is some kind of cruel trick, but all he finds is sincerity and desperation.

"You said I have to make a choice."

"Yes. If you stay, I can take you to a hospital and we can try to save your life. But you can never go back. You'll be stuck in this timeline forever."

"I'll never see Lisa Marie again."

"No."

"I'll never perform again."

"Not as Elvis Presley, no."

"Elvis Presley is dead."

"Yes. But you could live as John Burrows." He sits down in a chair against the wall.

"That's a hell of a choice, honey."

"I know. I'm sorry."

"Maybe if I'm supposed to die..." You nod and turn away from him. Your shoulders quake as your body is wracked with sobs. You don't want to impact his decision, but you can't control the anguish you feel at the thought of losing him. "But maybe you were meant to save me."

You turn back to him, your face shiny with tears. He walks to you and wraps you in his arms like he has so many times before. He presses his forehead to yours and closes his eyes.

"Y/n, you've saved me a hundred times over. You've made my life worth living. Save me one last time."

"You're sure that's what you want?"

"Yes."

******

The dentist rushes out to Ginger in the waiting room.

"Where did he go?"

"Who?"

"Elvis! He's gone!" She stands up and they frantically search the office, the parking lot, and the grounds of the building, but Elvis is nowhere to be found. Ginger calls Vernon in a panic.

"He's gone?"

"Vernon, it's like he disappeared! I don't know what could've happened." Vernon is quiet for a bit.

"Come home. I'll explain everything."

Back at Graceland, Vernon holds a discreet meeting with all of the most important people in Elvis's life. The conversation that occurs has been kept secret forever.

"Elvis is dead. Or, at least, that's what we're going to tell everyone. In 1960, Elvis sat me down once and warned me that this might happen. He said that there was a distinct possibility that he might disappear and never come back. If he did, he made me promise to proceed as if he was dead."

"What if he comes back?" Ginger is hysterical.

"He won't. He assured me he would be gone for good. You know how he is. We have to do what he asked."

Vernon looks around the room carefully.

"Elvis Presley is dead." They all nod in agreement.

"May he rest in peace."

******

The hospital staff think you're crazy when you insist that your husband is going to have a heart attack. Still, they run some tests and detect a good number of things wrong with him. They admit him and are shocked when he does, in fact, have a heart attack. Luckily, because he was already in the hospital, they're able to catch it quickly and stop it from doing too much damage. Still, this begins a health journey that will last the rest of his life.

But that's the important part.

He lives.

The miracles of modern medicine keep him alive well into his 70s. He watches your kids grow up. He cheers louder than anyone at every graduation and cries like a baby when he walks Erin Love down the aisle at her wedding. He even plays with his grandchildren and watches them grow up. He never stops missing Lisa Marie, but he's so grateful for the opportunity to be the dad he always wanted to be for John Jessie and Erin.

The two of you have your fights, like any other married couple, usually about you trying to feed him a heart-healthy diet. At one point he throws a whole baking sheet of salmon into the backyard to prove a point. You want to be mad, so you put your hands on your hips, but when he turns around to face you, you both erupt into laughter. You solve a lot of your problems by laughing together.

And once he's healthier, you spend a lot of time in bed together. Your lovemaking is not nearly as athletic as it used to be, but it's satisfying and you keep things interesting in your own ways.

But one thing has changed. You notice it the first time you have sex after his heart attack. You roll onto your back next to him sweating and breathing heavily and he wraps an arm around you, pulling you close.

"Shhh. Honey, listen."

"What?"

"It's gone." And then you notice. There's no buzzing sound, no shimmery air.

No portal.

He sings quietly.

At last I'm where you want me

Don't you know, that's where I want to be?

I've been round for the last time

Oh, girl, what can I do?

Oh the time the web was woven,

How I fell in love, fell in love with you...

******

The End

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taglist:

@ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @rosepresley68 @your-nanas-house @deniseinmn @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @that-hotdog @eddiesgirlforever @helen06dreamer @returntopresley @rjmartin11 @noirrose21-blog @deltafalax @tacozebra051

[oceansssblue]

might i request: with either tech or echo, the choice is yours

jedi f!reader- she gets fatally injured on a mission in order to protect the rest of the bad batch and dies in his arms

after her death, she appears to him as a force ghost while he is grieving, provides comfort

thanks!!!

Angsty one with Echo coming right up! Can life throw anything else to this poor man? 🥹💔

At least he got some healing&comfort at the end. Hope you like it!

Xx,

Sky.

"THE GHOST OF YOU"

ECHO/GHOST!F READER 📩💔(💖)

WARNINGS: DEATH OF MAIN CHARACTER (AKA YOU) AND APPEARING AS A FORCE GHOST, SADNESS, CRYING, HEARTACHE, MENTIONS OF WAR AND BEING TIRED AS IN BEING TIRED OF FIGHTING&LIFE, DEEP CONVERSATION, COMFORT.

Echo stared at the dried blood staining his hand. He could feel his emotions swirling restlessly inside of him; threatening to spill and destroy everything in its way in just a matter of seconds or minutes. He was alone in the barracks of Clone Force 99; Hunter reporting their disastrous mission to the Jedi while the rest swallowed their pain down and tried to let it drain in the shower.

Echo had done his best not to crumble in battle either. When his general had been on his arms back on the Marauder on their way back to Kamino, though, he's voice had being pannicked and desperate; he literally begged you not to leave him, to "please, please, stay with me". You had answered with a pained tired smile and fluttering eyes; a broken whisper of a "I'll always be with you, my Echo" the last words that left your lips.

You hadn't. You hadn't stayed; you had died on that next moment, your eyes shutting closed and your body growing limp, and all Echo could do was hold what was left of you in his trembling arms, his heart shattering in a million pieces while he fought not to let an ugly loud sob out, needing to be in private before he allowed himself to break down.

Tears blurred his vision again, his own body slumping down on the floor this time; and the tide of his emotions finally ripped his soul, body shaking uncontrollably with his broken cries and sobs. He closed his eyes shut, bending down on himself until his forehead pressed against the cold floor; trying to hold himself together through the heartache and pain.

Tears wet his cheeks. Flashes of his moments with you runned through his mind. Some happy, some soft and vulnerable, some sad and angry. All of his lost oportunities were relived too; all of his regrets of not having persued anything further with you. All of his childish hopes, dreams and desires washed away by the emptiness of your abscence.

His cries turned to small quiet whimpers and sounds when he pressed his jaw shut. He was so tired. He was so tired of fighting one time after another, of loved ones being taken away from him, of him always pushing through under the worst conditions only to be forced to live through this constant heartache. He just...

"Don't wanna do this anymore" he whinned to himself, shaking against the floor, eyes still closed. "Please..."

He didn't know who he was begging to; but he did know for what. He wanted the pain to go away. Wanted his loved ones to come back. Wanted to...

"Echo" a soft, gentle voice whispered at his side.

Recognising said voice, Echo quickly rightened himself to a sitting position, prosthetic knees scrapping against the floor; eyes shooting upwards.

"C-cyare?" his voice could barely be heard in the quietness of the room.

His breath hitched when you nodded and sadly smiled. It was you; the shape of your body and features perfectly recognisable even in this blue, translucent, wavering tone. Echo quickly understood; you were a Force ghost. He had heard it before.

"Cyare..." he called you, voice trembling, before breaking down into another cry again.

Echo felt your presence by his shoulder; almost as if you were touching him, even if he knew that that couldn't be possible like this.

"I'm sorry, Echo" you whispered, softly. "But I'm glad you're all okay".

Echo wanted to snap at you. Wanted to shout that they hadn't needed your help, that the Batch could defend themselves; but the truth was that they would have died without your sacrifice, and it wasn't fair to put it on you. Echo always knew of your devotion to helping others; he knew you would do it all over again.

He took a deep breath in and tried to calm himself. He stared at your Force ghost.

"You know I loved you, right?" He told you, voice unwavering, feelings vulnerable and completely exposed to you.

The raw emotions in his eyes and face would have made your heart ache if you could still feel one. You slowly sat down in front of him.

"I know" you smiled, a tiny fond thing.

Echo felt relieved upon hearing the answer; and confused as well. You could almost hear his question. Then why didn't you do anything about it?

"I had made an oath to the Order" you gently, patiently explained. "No attachments. You always made my promise start to crumble. Now... I wish I had forgotten about it and used my time better".

Echo closed his eyes and saved those words in his soul.

He opened then again and looked at you. He looked like a lost child, your beautiful Echo.

"I don't know how to carry on" he whispered, broken.

You tried to send a wave of the Force to comfort him.

"You have good brothers that will help you to move on" you soothed him, gentle.

Echo sighed and glanced down at the floor.

"I'm tired of this war".

You couldn't tell him much else.

"I know".

Silence reigned for a few seconds before Echo looked back at you.

"Have you... Fives?" He temptitavely asked, hope in his resignment.

You smiled.

"There's a process to become a Force ghost" you explained. "It's easier for the Jedi to complete. But I've felt his esence. He's here. I'll try to help him reach that state".

Echo nodded, smiling sadly.

"Good. Good" he mumbled, exhausted.

Sleep was tugging at the corners of his mind; his emotions draining the last of his energy. He didn't think he'd have strength to even move to the hammock on the other side of the room.

"Will you stay a bit longer?" He asked, blinking slowly, body dropping to one side.

You nodded softly.

"I can't stay permanently, but I'll stay now. And I'll be here in the future if you need me as well. I'll always keep an eye on you, Echo".

You caressed his cheek even if you couldn't feel the warmth of his skin like that.

Echo sighed pleasantly. He did feel a tingling sensation on his cheek. He wasn't totally alone. Never would be.

"Thank you" he whispered, eyes finally closing, body growing lax against the floor.

You smile and keep on comforting him.

"Just find strength in your new family, love. Fives and I will wait for you. You'll help me keep his Force ghost from terrorising shinnies" you joke, quietly.

Echo hums; the thought pulling a soft smile on his lips before sleep finally takes him away.

You stay until you hear the Batch's tired steps making his way back to their barracks, and you know they'll take care of him.

THE END.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

*Cries*

Back to main masterlist here:

[starcrossedxwriter]

Wicked Fantasies Part 6 (MBJ x OC)

Warnings: Look… its literally just angst lol you're gonna feel things! Don't say I didn't warn you. NSFW

A/N: This is like 2 weeks later than I promised (SO sorry, y'all!) but I hope you enjoy!

***

“This isn’t so bad,” Michael argued. “She’s just complaining that she hasn’t met me yet and some other shit that isn’t even true. Why’s that a problem?” 

Alex shook her head as she scrolled on her phone. Her eyes did not even leave her phone screen as she spoke, her nails furiously tapping across the glass screen. “It’s not what she said that’s the problem. It’s that she’s talking at all… the only things I want to see in the media about the two of you are cute photos from date night, not tell alls from family members. Does she know about your… previous career?” 

This was the first time his manager had even directed a question at Raven, who had sat silently since they arrived. She was so angry that she could not even revel in the fact that she was at Michael’s house for the first time, not regulated to her usual place in his bachelor pad. She thought being invited to this intimate part of his life would make her happier. But instead of feeling joy and welcomed, she merely felt like a burden. She was only there out of necessity to fix the crisis her own sister created. 

This is why you can never be more, she reminded herself. Paris had started to rip out the weeds of doubt that grew in her soul, siphoning away the power of the notion that they could not be more. It had made her fall deeper in love with him, made her seriously ponder whether his feelings for her stretched into deeper territory.. But this? This reminded her of a sickening fact. 

No matter how many trips he charted for her, gifts he showered her with, or kindness he showed, she did not belong here with him in the real world. It was as if every intimate detail of his home and his real life that she saw screamed at her that she was out of place, punching above her weight, and needed to return to where she belonged: the outskirts of his life in the condo where he took one-night stands and flings that meant nothing once the sun rose. Because as soon as their arrangement was done, she would be nothing to him again. And while Paris had made her feel like she could still win in the ring, now she felt as if she was merely being punched right back down where she belonged. 

“No. Well… she doesn’t know about the prostitution. But… I always thought she figured out I was a stripper somehow.” 

Alex, who previously had been engrossed in her phone, lifted her head in surprise. “You were a stripper too? Would’ve been nice to know before now,” she muttered under her breath. 

Raven’s long stiletto nails bit into the palm of her hand as she tried not to let one comment push her right off the cliff she was teetering on. She knew Alex was not intending to be judgmental but that did not stop her from feeling the sting of it. Every choice she made in her life since the moment she came into the world seemed to be a bad one for everyone else. She could not do anything right. 

“I was a 19 year old with no skills who needed to pay for college. I wasn’t facing a fucking mountain of options. So I did the best I could with a shitty situation... Sorry my choices as a desperate teenager are making your job so difficult,” Raven snapped. 

“I didn’t me-” 

“Alex.” Michael’s stern voice cut through the budding tension, stealing the words right out of Alex’s mouth. Michael’s dominance and power seemed to have an effect on everyone, though Raven suspected it was because he was not the type to abuse it. Alex immediately let the rest of her sentence fade away, opting to apologize instead. 

Michael’s eyes had not left Raven’s body since they got in the car. He hated how her eyes actively avoided him, he had been unable to look in her beautiful brown eyes for over an hour and that killed him. They were the most expressive part of her, windows into her soul and every feeling she had. She shied away from his comforting touch in the car so he kept his distance but even still, he could see how her entire frame trembled ever so slightly. Her furrowed brow… her silence. God, her silence was so deafeningly loud in his ears. He was not used to it. Even if it was awkward ramblings, she was rarely silent with him. This was a side of her he had never seen. It was not sadness or resignation, he had seen both of those, and she seemed to be able to push through those just fine. No, this was something else and it was red hot and all consuming to the point where he could tell she could not hide it. It was a far cry from the woman who was sound asleep on his shoulder on the plane two hours prior. 

“I’m sorry,” Alex raised her hands. “I’m sorry. I’d never judge anyone for doing what they need to. I just need to know what else your sister could say.” 

“She has no proof… just speculation. But that’s it. She doesn’t know anything about my life now… we aren’t close.” 

At first, she had immediately handed Alex back her phone, uninterested in reading whatever lies her sister decided to spew. However, when Michael summarized it for her, the notions in it were so absurd, she had to read them for herself. She instantly wished she had not. 

It was as dramatic as it was false, her sister complaining about how Raven had changed and alienated her own family since her romance with the superstar had begun. She spun a web of tall tales about how Raven never spoke to them anymore, how close they once were and how much the family missed her, how Raven had told them Michael was too busy to meet them. By the time Raven got to the end of the article, she was shaking. 

She supposed the silver lining was that the article was more of a personal attack on her character than their relationship, which she was used to from her sister. She just had not expected her sister to drag it into the public eye like this. And while reading her words agitated some of her deepest wounds, they fueled more anger in her than any other emotion. Anger was not an emotion Raven often felt where her family was concerned. Slight frustration, sadness, hurt, guilt? She felt all of those often but she was used to it and often brushed them off. But true anger? That was rare, or rather, it was rare that she let herself feel true anger. And now, it hit her as high, powerful waves crashing against her shores. 

“So she’s just lookin’ for her 15 minutes. Fine. But she can’t say anything else, this’s gotta be it.” 

“Who cares if she mouths off to the media?” Michael asked. He knew why Alex cared and why he should care. But at that moment, all he could actually care about was minimizing this for Raven’s sake. He knew her well enough to know that the only person she would blame for this was herself, not her idiot sister. And it seemed to him that she blamed herself for far too much where her family was concerned. He did not want to add another unnecessary thing to that list. Nor did he want her to feel the burden of this because she was quite the opposite of a burden to him and he would clean up 100 PR nightmares for her without a second thought. They had taken 10 steps forward in Paris, walls came crumbling down for both of them. If he did not fix this fast, Raven would retreat 15 steps back from him and he could not take that. 

“That’s not the point! She’s smoke and TMZ knows where there’s smoke, there’s a fuckin’ fire. And y’all two and this whole situation is a damn forest fire. We don’t need TMZ or a fuckin’ Inspector Gadget head ass Tik Toker to look into Raven’s life or past anymore than they already have. So you need to shut her up now. Is she a fan of his or somethin?”

Raven scoffed. “If wanting to add him to her list of fuck buddies means she’s a fan then sure… she’s a fan.” Her anger meant she could not hide the bitterness in her voice, could not pretend to have a kind word to say about her sister who seemed to take joy in going out of her way to ruin all the good things in her life. 

“Well, that shit definitely ain’t happenin’,” Michael stated with a growl. 

“I mean, no nigga, I wasn’t gonna suggest you fuck her sister.” Alex rolled her eyes.

“Maybe we s-should just end this. I’m causing more problems than I’m fixing.” Raven’s voice was so quiet, Michael almost did not hear her. It hurt her heart to even consider it but Paris had rubbed her raw, left her and her emotions exposed in ways she had not experienced in a long time. And she had not minded that at first, she savored the closeness and vulnerability with another person. But now, all of her emotions felt dialed up by ten in that vulnerability and that overwhelmed her. She was overwhelmed by the rage she felt at her family for trying to use Michael the way they used her. She thought she couldn’t ruin him but she felt as if she already was. “I’m r-ruining everything…” 

Michael’s heart stopped, his head shaking vehemently before any words could even escape his lips. “What? No… why would we do that?” 

Raven’s head fell into her hands as she let out a frustrated and strangled sigh that sounded like a sob. 

“Ok, let’s all take a breath. I’m sorry, I probably made this seem like a bigger deal than it is. We don’t need to stop or end it if you aren’t ready to. This is still a good plan, no one is ruining anything. We can fix this. We just need to give her what she wants. If you just meet her, take a picture with her, get her tickets to a high profile event or party or whatever she wants, then maybe she’ll settle down and keep her mouth shut.” 

“She won’t,” Raven mumbled to no one in particular. 

“Everyone has a price and we just need to find hers,” Alex continued texting on her phone.  

“She won’t because she’s an attention seeking bitch. She’s never had a real job or ambition or anything going for her and just takes and takes and takes from everyone with no thought. I can give her the fucking world and she’ll come back with her hand still out!” Raven exploded, jumping up from her seat as the words escaped her lips before she could even hope to stop them. She buried her face in her hands and turned away from both of them as she heard them in the space, instantly regretting them. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” 

Michael sighed and gestured toward the door, Alex walking out of the room with him. He closed the door behind them.

“So I take it there’s some bad blood there?” Alex asked as she leaned on the door. 

“Lots of it. You know how family shit is… lots of heavy ass baggage there. Let me talk to her and I’ll call you tonight with a game plan. I think she just feels betrayed and upset and needs to process all that.” 

“Understood,” Alex raised her hands in surrender. “Take your time, give her what she needs. Sorry this had to happen as soon as you came back. She seemed really happy when y’all got off the plane, I didn’t mean to ruin it.” 

Michael shook his head. “Doing your job isn’t ruining anything. But my guess is the timing of this, on her sister’s part, wasn’t random. Sucks too… the past week was the most relaxed I’ve ever seen her, first time she seemed actually happy.” Michael stared through the glass panels of his office door to watch her. He could see the tension in her shoulders from all the way over here, could tell they were shaking slightly from silent tears. 

He turned away to look back at Alex whose eyes were big with shock. 

“What?” 

“You’re in love with her.” 

“Alexxxx…” he dragged out her name, his manager scoffing and dragging him by the arm further away from the door. 

“Don’t insult my intelligence, Bakari. I’ve run a couple PR relationships in my time and most fail miserably. Been trying to figure out why this one seems to be working so well… I knew it wasn’t cause you’re that good of an actor, no shade. It’s because you… Michael Bakari Jordan love her. You’re not having to play for the cameras because you’re actually in love with her. Look me in my eyes and tell me I’m wrong.” 

Michael sucked his teeth. “I love her.” He admitted. “And I know what you’re gonna say… it can’t work and it’s stupid and I’ll need to end it like we always planned. I know, I got it.” 

He started to move past her when her hand grabbed his bicep to stop him. 

“I was actually gonna say that I’m happy for you. Been waiting for you to wise up and find someone for real. If she’s what you want, I support it and you 100%. And we can figure out how to spin it.” She jerked her head back toward the office. “Go take care of your girl. Call 

me later.” 

They shared a hug before Michael disappeared back into the office. Raven sniffled and quickly wiped her tears away before standing up and walking over to him. She tried to put a positive look on her face and tone in her voice as she spoke. 

“I’m sorry… that outburst was m-mean and totally unnecessary. And not helpful. She’s right, we need a game plan and everything. Where’s Alex? I want to apologize and then I can fix this.”

He perched on the edge and widened his stance so he could pull her in between his legs. His arm wrapped around her waist as he pulled her into his chest. He did not like how she braced her forearms against his chest to avoid fully melting into his embrace. 

“I don’t need you to do anything and Alex doesn’t need an apology. She’s fine. I care more about whether you’re good or not. You’re upset.” 

She shook her head. “I’m not upset.” 

Michael raised an eyebrow. “You just called your sister an attention seeking bitch. Ain’t gon’ hear an argument from me but that’s not like you. You’re pissed, rightfully so. Tell me why though, don’t bottle that shit up.” 

Raven stared at him for a moment, her mouth opening and closing a couple times as she tried to find the words to tell him. Tell him that she was near out of relentless hope and optimism, that a not-so-small part of her hated her sister and wished she never had to see her again, that she wanted to cut her and her dad out of her life completely but she wasn’t brave enough to be truly alone so she couldn’t, that a bigger part of her wanted to call TMZ and tell them all about how horrible her family has been to her her entire life, that it cut deeper than she imagined it would to read her sister describe a relationship between them that had always been her dream but she actively denied her. She wanted to tell him that she was tired, that she felt guilty and ashamed for dragging him into this mess, that she didn’t deserve his care and kindness because all she had done was ruin his life.

It was all too much, the avalanche of emotions she felt picked up speed and power with every moment she stood in his presence. And she needed it to stop, needed to throw up some type of blockade so she was not run over and drowned by it. She needed walls again, barriers. And the only way she could think to recreate those was to put both physical and emotional distance between herself and the man in front of her. He was the only person who forced her to exist in her vulnerability, to feel everything and not shy away from it. But that was dangerous. She was not built for it. Once the avalanche hit, she knew she would not get back up. So, she had to get out. 

So she did the only thing she could think of, she threw up the walls of a working girl. She knew they would not hold for long, not with his persistence, but they would hold long enough for her to reign it all in again. Long enough for her to lock her feelings back up in their cage where they belonged. 

“I’m not angry.” Her tone left no room for argument as she pried herself out of his embrace and walked back to the couch to grab her bag off the floor. “I’m not angry. Kiara’s not a… bad person. She’s just… Kiara’s the Sun and I imagine the Sun would be upset if Pluto tried to steal its spotlight too. She’s the center of my family’s world and she hates it when it seems like I’m trying to take that away. It’s fine. I’ll give her whatever she needs to feel like the Sun again and that I humbled myself back to my position as Pluto. Everyone wins.” She said it in such a matter-of-fact way that, if he didn’t know her, he would have missed the bitterness in her words. 

“You don’t need to pretend with me, Rae. You can be upset.” 

“Nothing to be upset about. This is just how it is… I’m used to it. She wants something and she knows I’m gonna give it to her. I’ll call her and figure out what she wants and we’ll fix this.” 

She started to fiddle on her phone before Michael pried it out of her hand and threw it on his desk. 

“I don’t give a fuck about what your sister wants right now… I care about what you need.” 

“I don’t really need anything from you or anyone else right now.” Her words clipped and colder than Michael had ever heard her before. “Least of all a damn therapist.” 

Her heart broke at the hurt that flashed across his eyes but she decided that was fine. She needed distance and however she achieved that, even if it was by pushing him away, it would work for her. However, before he could respond, her phone started to buzz loudly on the desk. 

“Speak of the devil.” Michael handed Raven her phone back, her sister’s name popping up across the screen. 

“Hey Kiara.” She put the phone on speaker phone so Michael could hear. 

“I’m surprised you didn’t call me all day, I know you saw the article.” 

Raven and Michael shared a knowing glance that made Michael’s blood boil. She had done this just to outshine Raven who had been in the media and tabloids multiple times in the last week from their trip. Michael had guessed that but knowing her sister went to such lengths to diminish her sister bothered him far more than he could describe. Was there no one in his girl’s life that allowed her to shine? 

“Yea I saw it. I’m sure you also saw that Michael and I weren’t in the country. We just saw it when we landed about an hour ago.” 

“Yea I saw you both... Why didn’t you invite me??” 

Raven let out a small huff. “Do you even have a passport?”

“No… but I could’ve gotten one. it's not fair that you get to go while I’m stuck here. And with my favorite actor. All my friends sending me clips of your stories and pictures and shit. And I didn’t even know you were gonna be there. And I had to lie and tell them that you invited me but I couldn’t go. You don’t include me in shit and you keep makin’ me look fuckin’ stupid. You probably didn’t think about me once!”

“I mean no, you weren’t the first thing that came to mind when my boyfriend invited me on a trip to Paris. I’m allowed to have and enjoy experiences on my own. Also no one forced you to lie, who would have expected you to be invited on a trip with me and my boyfriend?” 

She heard Kiara scoff on the other side of the phone. “‘My boyfriend,’” she mimicked back. “You better enjoy this lil 15 minutes of fame you’re getting from him cause it won’t last. Ain’t like you’re worth his time. He’ll wise up, realize he needs a real woman, a girl like me.” 

“Did you want something?” Raven interrupted, turning her head from Michael so he could not see just how deeply her words cut. She would never argue that she was good enough for the man sitting next to her but hearing someone else validate those insecurities hurt.. Her sister certainly knew which wounds to cut into. “Or was your tell all just to ruin my trip?” 

“Oh well… None of this would’ve happened if you had gotten me even one of the things I asked for weeks ago. Like damn, I know he’s busy but he don’t even have a real job. He could come out and met me when I asked.” 

Michael’s face twisted up in a look of faux offense that would have been a perfect gif, which made the edges of Raven’s lips curl into a small smile as she stifled her laugh. How did he manage to make her smile even when she felt utterly incapable of the action? 

“Acting is a real job, Kiara. And I invited you all here to meet him. But no, I wasn’t gonna ask him to get you a Birkin, I don’t even have a Birkin.”

Michael resisted the urge to cut in and ask her if she wanted one. Because he could easily have one at the house by sunset if she did. 

“Dad and I can’t afford to jet set out to LA… the hotels, the food, all that shit. We’re barely getting by as it is.” 

Raven rolled her eyes. “Barely getting by” when they both worked and Raven often paid most of the major bills. 

As she was talking, Michael gestured for her to mute the phone. “Tell her I’ll pay for the flights and invite them to Thanksgiving.” At Raven’s wary face, Michael just nodded. “Just trust me.” 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize the price of the flights was the issue. H-how about we pay for the flights and your hotel and… you could come for Thanksgiving this year? Michael’s family are great cooks so it’ll be nice. And you can meet him?” 

“Really?? Thanksgiving at Michael’s house?” 

“Yea,” the words were almost painful to get out. Part of her wanted to believe this could be a good thing but the more logical part knew that it would not soften anything between all of them. After all, they were not coming to see her, they were coming to gawk at Michael. “But you can’t talk to the media anymore, Kiara. Seriously, you can meet him and everything but you can’t go give a tell all to TMZ or Page Six or any of them anymore. Understand?” 

“Fineeeee. No more media. I’ll tell dad. Send me the flight and hotel information. Make sure to put us up somewhere nice… you know like the Ritz or a five-star hotel. And can you have a car for us while we’re there? We’re gonna wanna sightsee and everything.” 

“Of course,” she muttered through gritted teeth. 

“Ok. See you then, bye.” 

Raven clenched her phone in her hand, resisting the urge to chuck it across the room. 

“Damn, sis’s got expensive taste,” Michael muttered. 

Raven’s laugh was cold and humorless. “It’s easy to have expensive taste when it’s not your money. You sure about this? Thanksgiving? Here?” 

“What? Thanksgiving is the time people spend with family. We can get a nice group shot and they can feel included. And I’ll get her somethin’ expensive and nice… nothin’ crazy. That’s all she seems to want anyway. Hearing how she talks to you… I don’t want ‘em here anymore than you do but this is the best solution. You had plans or somethin’?” 

“No, no… I just didn’t… I didn’t even know I was invited to the Jordan Family Thanksgiving dinner,” she chuckled, pulling at the sleeve of her jacket awkwardly.  

Michael’s face twisted up in confusion. “Of course you’re invited. Moms would kill me if I didn’t. But yea I guess I should’ve asked if you had plans first. What do you usually do?”  

“Nothing.” 

“Nothing?” 

“Nothing. I order Chinese and I pick a marathon of movies to watch in bed. Same with Christmas except I usually pick a new recipe to try and I always watch the Grinch,” she chuckled. 

“You spend Thanksgiving and Christmas alone?” 

She shrugged and gestured toward her phone. “If you had to pick between alone and that, which would you choose?” At his silence, she nodded. “Exactly. They never want to see me anyway so I make it easy on everyone.” 

“Well, this year’s gonna be different.” 

Raven scoffed. “How so?” 

Michael closed the distance between them and rested his hands on her hips. “Well, one, you’ll have me, which means your family will be on their best behavior. If they aren’t, two, you have me and my family as a buffer. And three, you have me… and I ain’t gon’ tolerate disrespect like that in my house. You say the word and dinner’s over.” 

“You can’t kick people out of your house for me,” she whispered, her eyes avoiding the intense stare in his. 

“Who says I can’t? Thought I’d made that clear by now that I’d do anything for you. And when you’re with me, I’m not just gon’ protect you physically… all of you is safe with me.” 

Those walls she threw up? Already starting to crash down around her. Why does he do this to me?? And why can’t I resist it? She thought to herself as she looked at him. 

“Thank you. But hopefully, they’ll be on their best behavior and then who knows, maybe they’ll see your family and want to turn a new leaf? This could be good?” In her heart, she knew that would not be how this particular story played out but she had to try… had to hope and dream that it could be different. She studied him for a sign that he agreed, and believed her. But he offered her nothing but a peck on the forehead. 

“Yea, maybe.” 

They stood there for a moment before Raven felt the overwhelming urge to run again. She hated this feeling… the contrasting emotions of wanting to melt into him and run from him at full speed. 

“D-do you think Allen would mind taking me home?” 

“I thought you were gonna stay with me tonight?” 

“Yea but I thought we were going to the condo… you want me to stay the night… here?” 

“I just thought after last week…” he stopped himself. “Here is just more comfortable than the condo. Besides, ma asked if you could stay for dinner so she can meet you. Wouldn’t want to disappoint her, would you?” At her continued expression of speculation, Michael added. “She also has been buggin’ the hell outta me to meet you so honestly, you’d be savin’ my ass.” 

Raven smiled and nodded. There was not anything but wallowing and frustration waiting for her back at her own apartment. And she had loved falling asleep in Michael’s arms during the last week. She was not ready to fall asleep alone again. 

“Just remember that next time you’re punishing me,” she winked at him. 

“Deal.” 

***

“Bakari!” Donna called over to Michael who was standing outside with his dad overseeing the fried turkey for dinner. 

“What’s up, ma?” He jogged over to her as she continued moving around the kitchen. Michael had offered, as he did every year, to have dinner catered but his mother could not dream of not cooking Thanksgiving dinner with her own two hands. Michael never pressed too hard though because he knew no caterer would ever beat his mom and dad’s cooking. 

“I think a certain girl needs your attention more than your father and that turkey,” she gestured toward Raven whose hands were filled with neatly folded napkins as she sat each one on each place setting around their giant farm style table. 

Michael’s eyes scanned over her body. He could see the tension in her shoulders but she had been tense since they woke up that morning. She had also been quiet all day, simply getting up and heading down to the kitchen to assist his mother. While she was more than happy for the help and it gave the two a chance to chat and bond, Michael knew Raven’s motives were not completely altruistic. She needed the distraction. 

“She’s setting the table, what’s wrong?” 

His mother lowered her voice. “She’s set and reset that table 5 times now in between asking me if I need help 100 times and apologizing for her family being late.” She gestured toward the pitcher which held a fall sangria for dinner. “Poor girl’s been on her feet helpin’ me all day and she’s a dream but she needs to relax. Pour her a drink, get her outta my kitchen, and make her sit down till dinner, please?” 

“Yes ma’am.” He kissed his mom on the cheek before quickly grabbing a glass and pouring a tall drink before walking over to her. 

“I think those napkins will be fine wherever you put them, baby girl,” he whispered in her ear, causing Raven to jump slightly. 

She clutched her chest, glancing down at the table setting and set of napkins in her hand. “Sorry… was in my own head. Something about it still doesn’t look right still,” she whispered as she started to rearrange the setting in front of her again. 

Michael eyed her for a moment before grabbing the things out of her hand and setting them down. He called for his sister to take over setting the table before grabbing Raven’s hand and pulling her behind him into his bedroom upstairs. He closed the door and handed her the glass. 

“Drink.” He instructed. 

Raven took a sip before lowering the glass again to hand back to him. 

“Nope, drink the whole thing and then tell me why you’re so scared.” 

“I’m not scared.” 

“Yea you are. Tell me why.” Michael wasn’t dumb. Raven had been off since her family landed in LA, more tense, quieter and not herself. He wished he could get the version of her from Paris back but that woman was buried deep beneath the seemingly never-ending bull her family put her through. 

Raven took another big gulp of the drink before sitting on the edge of Michael’s bed, her dress riding up her bare thighs slightly. His eyes sparked with lust but he tempered himself. That was not the point of bringing her up here. 

“I’m not… scared. That’s not what it is. I just… Well, first, I’m frustrated because they’re late. I explicitly told them 2 so they could meet everyone and chat and mingle and it’s almost 4. I spent over an hour on that damn charcuterie board. And they haven’t called me or texted or anything. And now your mom probably thinks I was raised by inconsiderate ass wolves.” 

“Rae, my mom doesn’t care in the slightest. Food wasn’t gonna be done at 2 anyway so they haven’t missed anything or messed up anything. And you know that. So what’s really bothering you? We aren’t leaving this room til you tell me.”

She sucked her teeth in annoyance before sighing. She knew he would make good on his promise not to let her leave until she was honest. 

“I’ve lived in LA for years. Did my masters out here, became a published author here, built a life here and you know how many times I’ve asked them to visit? And the first time they come, it's not even to see me. It’s to meet you. They’ve been in LA for 3 whole days… you know they haven’t made an effort to see me once? Never mind the fact that every restaurant they have a reservation to, we booked. Every excursion, you booked and paid for. And it shouldn’t bother me,” she whispered, throwing the entire drink back before wiping the corner of her lips. “It shouldn’t… bother me. Usually it doesn’t bother me. After all, this’s been it, my whole life. But since I met your family… I see how you are with them a-and I spend time with you all and it’s like breathing in rare fresh air? A-and I dunno, it just… the polluted air is a lot harder to breathe in than it used to be.”  

Since they returned from Paris, Raven had become a staple in the Jordan household. They still returned to the condo some nights after dates as it was often easier than getting back to his mansion in the hills. Raven had fallen in love with Michael’s family and it seemed his family had taken quite a liking to her as well. His nephew loved to have Raven read to him as she did the best silly voices, and she, his mom, and sister had already gone out without Michael for manis, pedis, and dinner - with his card, of course. 

Raven would never forget their first dinner the night they got back from Paris. She had been in such a bad mood but ten minutes at the table with Michael’s entire family had lightened her spirits significantly. His dad was charming and told stories that had Raven’s muscles aching from laughter; his mom so sweet and spent half the dinner asking questions about Raven’s book after having it finished it while they were away; his brother was quiet but he and Michael’s friendship made her heart want to melt; and his sister was witty and made Raven want to be her friend immediately. Everytime Raven spent time with them, they made her feel like part of the family. And she fell into it, despite her efforts to avoid it, with ease, like she had been part of the fabric for years. It caused some guilt to swell as she remembered that the girl they loved so much was a lie and that she and Michael were deceiving them. However, as her own family continued to disappoint her, it was nice to be a part of something so pure and loving. 

“Sorry to interrupt,” Michael’s sister poked her head into the room. “But your family’s car just pulled up.” 

Raven immediately stood up and handed the wine glass back to Michael. She went over to the full-length mirror in his room to adjust her outfit and ensure she looked perfect before putting on the most forced smile Michael had ever seen grace her lips. 

“Come on, we shouldn’t keep them waiting.” 

Michael grabbed her arm to stop her as she tried to walk around him. 

“I told myself I’d stay out of it… your family, your rules. But word of advice, if you’ll let me?” When she said nothing, he continued. “People treat you how you allow them. And just because you’ve allowed this disregard for 30 years doesn’t mean you have to allow it now or that you deserve it. It hurts more now because you know you deserve more. And you’ve experienced more. So demand more.” 

“And if they don’t give it?” Raven’s voice broke slightly with that question because she knew what his answer would be, what she should have done many years ago but did not have the courage to do.  

“Somethin’ isn’t always better than nothin’. Especially when that somethin’ is just dead weight you have to drag around behind you. No one ever got far with dead weight.” He pressed his lips to her forehead, Raven desperately wanting to melt into him and the comfort he provided. He laced his fingers in hers and kissed her hand. “That’s all I’m gonna say. We’re gonna have a good time, promise. You’re with me so you know I gotchu. You ready?” 

“Yea, I think so,” she smiled at him before following him out of his room and downstairs. 

As they descended the stairs, she was unsurprised to find the deep baritone of her father filling the foyer of Michael’s mansion as he greeted everyone. Raven fixed her face to maintain a smile as she and Michael finally made it to the bottom of the stairs. She could feel her sister’s eyes studying her, taking in her designer dress, the signature red bottoms of her heels, and the diamond necklace and earrings glistening against her skin that Michael had bought her in Paris. It may have been a role, but Raven could not lie, she enjoyed dressing the part of a movie star’s girlfriend more than she thought she would. A petty part of her also did not hate the way her sister’s nose seemed to flare with jealousy at it. 

“How y’all doin? I’m Michael?” Michael stepped forward and offered her father and sister a hug. 

Raven’s eyes narrowed as her sister tried to linger in the very chaste hug Michael offered. Neither of them acknowledged her as they introduced themselves to Michael and his family, Raven awkwardly teetering on her heels behind him. 

“It’s so great to meet you, son. Loved that Tom Clancy movie of yours. Watch it all the time,” her dad boasted as if he was Michael’s greatest fan. 

Raven rolled her eyes behind Michael, knowing how much he hated when the first thing out of someone’s mouth when he meets them is their favorite role of his. 

“Thank you, thank you. That was a fun one.” Michael reached behind him and pulled Raven to his side. He protectively tucked her under his arm and smiled down at her. “Great girl you have here.” 

“Hey dad,” Raven offered, stepping forward to accept the half hug her father offered. She knew it was merely for show but she accepted it anyway. “Kiara,” her tone made her seem far more excited to see both of them than she was. But unlike her family, she was painfully aware of the studious eyes of Michael’s family watching them. And while their foundation had cracks the size of the Grand Canyon in it, she did not want Michael’s family to see them. 

Her sister could not even stop eye fucking Michael long enough to give her a hug. She merely nodded in her direction. 

Michael, thankfully, ended the awkward silence between the family members by gesturing for everyone to follow him to the kitchen. There, the island was heavily laden with food that his mom deemed ready to serve. Everyone grabbed serving dishes and started helping move things to the table. Seeing an opportunity to grab her father and her sister, Raven pulled them off to the side for a moment while Michael’s family got ready for dinner. 

There was an awkward silence as the three of them stood in Michael’s living room before Raven found her voice again. She did not know why she was nervous, this was her family after all. 

“Just wanted to see how the trip’s going? A-and ask if y’all had plans tomorrow. Thought maybe, you could come see my apartment? And then maybe we could go hiking to the Hollywood sign, it’s such a nice view of the city. And Michael got us all reservations at a new Japanese spot tomorrow night.” 

Kiara turned her nose up at the mere idea. “Hiking?? No. Dad’s taking me shopping tomorrow on Rodeo Drive. It’ll probably take up the whole day, sorry. But dinner with Michael sounds good.” 

Raven’s heart deflated a bit. Another outstretched hand pushed away. “Oh… yea of course. Shopping sounds fun. Maybe I could meet you all?” 

“That’s ok. We know you’re busy,” her dad interjected, waving his hand to dismiss her suggestion. 

“Oh… well, it’s just… you leave Saturday, I wanted to spend some time with y’all before you leave? I tried calling you both, I haven’t seen you all week. I invited you all out here, thought we’d get to at least spend a little time together before you leave.” 

“We’re spending time together right now. We’ve been really busy. We came to meet Michael and enjoy the city. That’s what we’ve been doing. Besides, we all know Michael paid for us to come, not you.”

Raven scoffed, already frustrated and they had not been there for more than 5 minutes. She regretted everything about this plan. Her time with Michael’s family, this sanctuary she had found with them in his home, now felt tainted as if their mere presence had poisoned that sweet, fresh air. She knew she should have been more excited to see them, after all, it had been longer than she could remember since she saw them in the flesh. But now, that small part of her that never wanted to see them again only seemed to get larger and larger with every moment she stood in their presence. 

Why do you even bother?

“Oh, should I start itemizing everything I’ve paid for in the last decade? Is that the best way to get yall to, you know, actually care to spend time with me? I mean I’ve been asking y’all to come out this way for years. I just thought… since we haven’t really seen each other in a while, this could be a good chance to reconnect. But shopping is more important than me, everything seems to be,” she muttered more to herself than to them. Before her sister could cut in with another smart comment, Raven added. “Can you make sure to thank Michael for this trip you’re enjoying so much? He really went all out of y’all.”

“You don’t need to lecture me on good manners, Raven. I did raise you both,” her father spoke up, clearly annoyed and bored of this conversation. 

Raven bit down the retort that she was not sure please and thank you were even phrases in their vocabulary and just nodded. 

“Is that all?” her sister asked cooly. 

“Yea, yea that’s all.” 

Both of them immediately left to return to the dining room where Michael’s family gathered, leaving Raven in the living room. She let out a deep shaky breath as a welcomed face popped out around the corner. However, she cringed slightly, fearful that he heard that entire exchange. 

She walked over to him, Michael immediately pulling her into a tight embrace. Her head thudded against his chest. “Please tell me you didn’t hear any of that.” 

“Don’t think me lying to you is gonna make you feel any better.” His fingers brushed aside the curls that spilled into her face. .

His hand rubbed soothing circles into her back before he kissed her on the top of her head. This time Raven did not even attempt to shy away, she fully melted into his embrace, at least as much as she could without breaking down. 

“Say the word and they’re gone,” he reminded her, leaning back so he could look in her eyes. 

Raven could tell he was completely serious, that he would kick both of them out without a second thought or a care. However, she knew that was not a possibility. 

“As much as I hate it, we need them, remember?” She sighed. “For once, I do actually need them. So I’m gonna do what I’ve always done.”

“And what’s that?” 

She shrugged, pulling herself out of his embrace. “Suffer through it.” She answered simply. 

“Anything I can do to help?” 

“Keep my glass full,” she answered bluntly. “I can already tell it’s gonna be a long fucking afternoon.”

***

“So Kiara, what do you do?” Donna asked as she sat down from transitioning the dinner dishes out and replacing them with dessert. 

Raven did not know how she was going to eat the slice of apple pie Michael cut for her. Everything had been so delicious, she had eaten two plates and would have gotten a third if her sister had not made a backhanded, loud compliment about her food and her figure. While she could count the number of plates she had eaten with ease, the same could not be said for the glasses of sangria. 

She had not lied when she said she needed it. Tipsy Raven cared far less about her sister’s consistent jabs to make her feel inferior and puff herself up to Michael nor did she care about how her father objectively ignored her for the entire dinner. He talked of her and around her but not once did he direct a question or comment to her. She could not tell which slight bothered her more, the disrespect or the disregard.  

“I was doing hair for a while but I really love to cook so I’m going back to school to be a chef.” 

Everyone around the table offered the appropriate congratulations and well wishes while Raven merely smiled and stopped herself from rolling her eyes. Kiara changed career paths about as often as she changed boyfriends, which was damn near monthly. Being a chef was just another way to throw her dad and Raven’s money down the toilet. 

“Once I finish school, maybe you can float some clients my way? My dream is to be a personal chef.” 

Raven downed her glass before filling it again. She found that drinking was the only way to stop herself from commenting on everything they did that frustrated her. However, that was an incredibly foolish drinking game to play. Because everything they did today seemed to frustrate her, every slight seemed amplified now that it was in the presence of Michael and his family. Each one fueled that anger she often ignored and suppressed. She should have known this was coming, that they would try to ask him for favors. She didn’t even ask him for favors. All they did was take and it was one thing to do that to her, but Michael did not deserve it. 

You don’t deserve it either, a small voice that sounded oddly like the man sitting next to her reminded her. 

“Maybe finish school first before you start chatting up my man for clients,” Raven teased, keeping her tone light and playful though she knew Kiara could see the lack of amusement in her eyes. 

“Well, we all gotta start somewhere right? Can’t all be big time like you, sis?” 

Raven smiled, “Well, you can be if you work hard… and don't rely on boyfriends, dad and I for everything,” she added the last part under her breath, however, she knew her sister could hear her. Michael’s hand went to rest of her thigh as if he could sense the change in her demeanor and mood almost immediately. 

“Oh we loved Raven’s book,” Donna offered, transitioning the conversation away from her sister. “Such a talented and vivid writer. I probably talked the poor girl’s ear off when we first met about it. Was she always like that?” 

Raven’s dad chuckled. “Yea she always had her nose buried in a book or a notebook writing somethin. She used to write these little short stories, got a drawer full of ‘em back at the house.” 

“That’s so sweet. I’m not much of a fantasy reader,” Donna admitted. “But she had me hooked from the first chapter. Such a beautiful story.” 

“Yea the book was really great,” he added lamely, unable to offer much beyond that because, as Raven knew, he had not read her book. “I always encouraged them both to follow their dreams, great to see her accomplish so much.” 

Something about hearing him talk about her passion, her life’s work, the thing she tolled and fought for and had to give up, as if he cared about it at all made all those years of suppressed rage finally boil over. She could suffer through a lot, it was true, but she could not listen to that, listen to him lie and pretend to be supportive or caring when he was nothing of the sort. And now, she did not even care who knew it. This was simply not a piece of fiction she would allow him to sell.  

“What was your favorite part of the book, dad?” Raven had not said much throughout dinner, allowing her sister to monopolize most of the conversation. However, it seemed as though Michael was the only person who realized the unfortunate turn their Thanksgiving dinner was about to take. He leaned in closer to her, quietly whispering in her ear but he knew his sweet nothings meant just that at this point: nothing. She was too far gone to hear them or register them. Her body felt as if it was almost vibrating with rage. He wished he could take her outside and give her a few plates to smash but he knew his mom would not appreciate that. 

“Oh all of it. Whole thing was great.” 

“Huh…” she muttered, taking a long gulp of her drink before reaching for the pitcher to refill it. “Who’s your favorite character?” 

“Maybe we should slow down on…” Michael quietly whispered in her ear, subtly trying to beat her to the pitcher but she grabbed it first and poured another large glass. She raised her hand to stop his sentence. 

“Didn’t realize there’d be a pop quiz,” he let out a deep chuckle as the tension around the table grew to levels that were impossible to ignore. 

“Not a pop quiz. Just tell me one thing about the book you loved so much and encouraged me to write. Favorite plot twist, favorite scene, favorite character… hell, name one character you remember at all?”

“What the fuck, Rae? What’s your problem?” 

Raven let out a humorless laugh as she leaned back in her seat. She downed her entire drink in one go, sitting the glass down before folding her arms casually. 

“What’s my problem? What’s my problem? Right now, my problem is this fiction you’re spinning as if you give a rat’s ass about my book, my career, or me when if someone put a gun to your head, you wouldn’t be able to tell them the name of my book, let alone anything about it. My problem is the fact that I invited you all here to spend time with me, my boyfriend, and his family, all for you to ignore me for most of dinner. My problem is that you wax poetic about stories I wrote as a kid when, if you had ever bothered to read a single one of them, you would have seen a child writing herself into literally any other world and family to escape the pitiful one she had. I have a lot of problems, too many to list right now. But the common denominator in all of them is you two.” 

Everyone’s movements and side conversations halted at her outburst. The silence and her deep breaths were only interrupted by Michael’s brother accidentally dropping his fork against his dinner china, the loud clanging filling everyone’s ears as they stared at Raven and her father.

She was not one to start a scene or draw attention to herself. But she could not let any of this go on for another moment. 

“Baby… why don’t we take a break for a minute?” Michael asked, standing to pull her chair out. Raven knew that if she sat there for a minute longer, she’d lose whatever little composure she had left, so she forced herself to heed Michael’s advice. She wiped her lips and immediately threw her napkin down on the table to stand and leave. 

“Excuse me.” 

However, as she turned around, she heard her father’s voice. 

“I didn’t mean to cause an issue. I tried my best with her and Kiara but you know, some kids are just harder to handle than others.”

As soon as those words hit her ears, she exploded. Before she even realized it, she had returned to the table and was leaning over it yelling at her father. 

“‘You tried your best??’ YOU TRIED YOUR BEST? You never tried! All you’ve done is give the bare minimum and suffer through my presence like I’m was a fuckin’ pest you couldn’t get rid of!” 

“You think you can talk to me that way? I’m still your father! All I’ve ever done is love you and take care of you.” 

Raven scoffed, throwing her hands in the air. Michael shifted so he was standing behind her, an arm wrapped around her waist as if to stop her from jumping across the table. It was not that he thought she would actually do anything, baby girl did not seem like the scrapping type. But he prayed his presence would calm her down if nothing else. This was a side of her he had never seen before. He could not lie, it was kinda sexy, seeing her finally stick up for herself and be assertive. 

In a part of her brain that felt distant and detached, she could feel Michael’s presence, hear his soft whispers to calm down. And she knew and appreciated what he was trying to do: stop her from doing something she’d ultimately regret. But at that moment, she did not know if she wanted to be stopped.

“All you’ve ever done is give me scraps! Scraps of support, scraps of your attention, but not an ounce of your love or affection. All to punish me for the sin of being born.” She had always bought into her family’s narrative that she was to blame for what happened. But it was as if the small voice that nagged at her her entire life was finally roaring. This was not her fault. No part of it was. “You can’t be mad at God for that shitty situation and you won’t be mad at mom for making her choice. So for 30 years, I’ve endured you hating me because you needed someone to be mad at. When you ignored birthday after birthday and accomplishment after accomplishment and need after need, I persisted in trying to win your love and win your affection. When you threw me out and cut me off after one year of college, I dusted myself off and kept going. When you rebuffed every attempt to reconnect and build a new relationship, I kept reaching out, kept trying. When you ignored me on every holiday and at every visit and everything, I still showed up. And when you ask for everything I have despite not deserving a cent of it, I give it. Every single time. Even after I lost my book deal last year and my career and didn’t know how I was gonna pinch pennies together for rent, I put myself and my needs last to help you two every single fuckin’ time. And you both expect me to be gracious for scraps while I kill myself to give you the Sun, Moon and stars and you take and you take and you take without so much as a thank you.” Every ‘take’ punctured by her hand slamming down on the farm-style dining table. “It’s not enough and I refuse to spend the next 30 years pretending it is. I’m done!” 

“God, you’re such an embarrassment,” Kiara muttered. 

“Oh fuck you, Kiara!” She cried out. “You miserable, attention-seeking bitch. You can say whatever you want about me but unlike you, I made something of my life and I did it all on my own. Meanwhile, you float through life without a single responsibility or thing to your name that someone else didn’t give you. And you can’t stand the fact that my life, despite both of your best efforts, is better than yours.” 

“Wow. Nice to know how you really feel about your family.” 

“I’ve never had a family. You both made damn sure of that. You want me out of your lives so bad? Fine. I’m out. Let’s see how far both of you get without taking from me. Get out. Both of you.” 

Raven had no authority to kick someone out of a house that was not even hers but she could not hope to care. She knew Michael would not argue with her or lobby for them to stay after she just cussed them out six ways to Sunday in front of his entire family. 

“You can’t kick us out!” 

“Yes she can,” Michael piped up, speaking for the first time since the blow up began. 

The intense stare down continued before her father and sister angrily stood up and stalked to the door. 

“And Kiara!” Her sister stopped walking to turn around to her. “Say another word about me or my relationship to the media and I won’t hesitate to tell this entire world what a shitty person and sister you are. See how your friends like that story then.”

Her sister merely glared at her before stomping out of the house behind their father. As soon as she heard the door shut, Raven felt the adrenaline in her system crash and the weight of what just happened set in. 

What the fuck did you just do? And in front of Michael’s family? 

She let out a shaky breath as a wave of shame hit her. “U-Um… I am… I am s-so so so sorry,” she whispered. She rang her hands together, unable to make eye contact with anyone in the room. She had not felt this embarrassed in a long time. “I-I should go too.” She pulled herself away from Michael and tried to race toward the door, ignoring his calls for her to stay. However, before she could leave the dining room, Michael’s mom stopped her. 

She grabbed the young woman’s hands and patted them softly. 

“No, no you aren’t. No one leaves my table till dessert is over. You’re gonna sit and finish your pie with family.” 

The tears brimming in Raven’s eyes spilled over. 

“I-I’m sorry for r-ruining dinner.” 

The older woman laughed. “That ain’t the first blow up this family’s seen at a dinner table… won’t be the last. Go on and sit down.” 

She steered Raven’s body back into Michael’s arms who pulled back her chair for her to sit. She ate her pie in silence, conversation flowing with ease around her. The Jordans acted as if her meltdown was just par the course, though she knew they were likely just trying to make her feel better. But still, she appreciated it. Within 15 minutes of eating dessert, the mood across the table felt lighter and easier than it had all day. Raven calmed down enough to laugh and joke. By the end of several rounds of drinks and a very rowdy spades game to cap off the evening, Raven’s heart and soul also felt lighter than they had in years.  

However, that quickly ended when she and Michael finally retreated to his suite for the evening. She collapsed onto the edge of his bed and kicked off her shoes, her movements sluggish and slow as if the weight of what she had done was finally creeping on her now that she was alone. 

“I’m… alone,” she whispered to herself. 

“What?” Michael crouched down in front of her, her eyes misting over slightly as she realized the truth. 

“I’ve always been alone for the most part… after my grandma died. And I couldn’t keep a relationship going for long ever. It’s always just been… me. But it was ok because even though they were awful, I still had… family a-and there was still hope that it could be something. But now… now I have no one cause they’ll never come around after what I said to them.” She rubbed her eyes with the palm of her hand. “I don’t regret it, I was holding on to something that just wasn’t ever gonna be anything. But the dead weight was… something? Didn’t expect how empty I’d feel without it.” She sniffled and wiped her eyes. “It’s stupid,” she whispered. “Sorry.” She cleared her throat and stood up to walk to his bathroom. “Give me a minute to get my life together and then we can do what you actually pay me for and not this sad shit.”  

Michael watched as she dapped her eyes in the mirror to rid them of tears before she reached behind her and pulled down the zipper of her dress. She looked gorgeous, her body clad in another one of her lingerie sets from Paris. This one was a nude brown that perfectly matched her skin. He knew she was merely trying to use sex to move on and forget, and he would oblige. But he could not do so without saying one thing.

“You have me.” It was not a question, but a firm statement. A matter of fact statement that left no room for arguments or questions. 

Raven’s hands paused as she tried to fix her hair for a few minutes. She turned and smiled at him, closing the distance between them. 

“Yea I have you… But this’ll end and you’ll find the right girl for you and then…”she shook her head, not wanting to think about that: being alone or being without him. “Thank you… for today.” 

She leaned forward and pressed her lips to his. Usually, Michael initiated their kisses and they were domineering, hurried and passionate. While this moment held the same passion, it was slow and measured, each second inching past them. And Raven used every second to convey what her simple thank you could not. She prayed he felt it and appreciated it, because at that moment, the small action was all she had left to give. She did not have the energy for grand speeches or words. 

She broke off their kiss and slid down to her knees, assuming the same position she did almost every time they had sex.

However, tonight, Michael decided he needed something different, that she needed something different. His finger gently lifted her chin so her eyes were on him.  

“You take care of me every time we have sex. Let me take care of you for once.” 

He did not let her question it as he helped her to her feet and led her to his bed, gently pushing her down. She let out a dramatic huff that made him chuckle. 

He stood over her for a moment, his eyes taking in the hills of her breasts, the soft panes of her stomach, her thick plush thighs. He often found himself just staring at her and this moment was no different, moments where he wanted to commit her beauty to memory, burn her image in his brain matter. 

“You are fuckin’ gorgeous,” he whispered. “You know how beautiful you are?” he asked as he sucked on the skin of her neck. 

She turned her head, giving him more access to the skin of her neck as he sucked and bit. She whimpered slightly as his kisses moved down her body, savoring the taste of her soft supple skin. He took his time, however, this felt completely different than when he teased her. Then, he was purposefully avoiding giving her what she wanted. Now, her moans created the roadmap he followed. His lips and hands lingered where she needed them to, only pausing to shower her with praises. As his kisses continued, Raven lost all control of her senses, of the world around her. Everything else, the pain and emotions of the day faded away as every thought in her mind and every cell in her physical body turned their focus on him.

“I love everything about you. The way you moan, the way you beg me for more, the face you make when I make you cum.”

“Michael, please,” she whimpered.  

He paused his ministrations and grasped her chin with a featherlike touch, her eyes focusing on him. 

“I’m gonna take care you, I promise. Always. Trust me.” He hoped that the look in his eyes conveyed the truth, that her pleasure was not the only part of her he would take care of. He would worship and care for her mind, body, and spirit. 

His fingers hooked into her lace panties and slid them off, settling between her plush thighs for his favorite meal of the day. Her eyes clenched shut as he spelled his adoration and love for her with his tongue on her clit. Michael had always been a generous lover but river always bent toward his pleasure. Every action, while it brought her pleasure, carried the reminder that it was not for her pleasure, it was for his. And she loved it, craved it, got off on it. It was one of the benefits of the arrangement to her. 

But it had been so long since she had had sex like this, where the river flowed toward her and only her, where someone was so committed to bringing her mind numbing pleasure and ensuring she knew she was cared for and safe. She knew why he was doing it, after seeing how unsafe she was with her own family. She knew it was not real but she could not close the gates to her heart fast enough and stop herself from feeling it, from enjoying it. Every touch was gentle and sweet and let her know she was safe in his arms, safe in his sanctuary. And even though she knew she could not stay there with him forever, she loved him even more for letting her in from the cold for a moment. 

Michael’s eyes never left her face as he devoured her, every moan, groan, and plea for mercy spurred him on. Her thighs clamped around his head as he pushed her farther and farther up her mountain to the peak of desire. He knew Raven’s body almost as well as he knew his own now, increasing his speed and efforts when he felt her legs shake and heard her moans grow louder. 

It did not take much longer for Raven to feel the snap of a powerful orgasm crash over her. She let out a continuous stream of praise and lewd words as she road those waves of sweet bliss. 

“That’s it, baby. Cum for me. Fuck, you taste so good.” He emerged from between her legs, kissing her deeply. 

He wrapped his arm around her waist and used his strength to hoist her farther up onto the bed. He placed her legs on his shoulders and lined himself up with her entrance. Raven offered him a raised eyebrow at the position choice, she could not remember the last time they did missionary on the bed like this. On creative surfaces, like tables? Sure. 

“I wanna look you in the eye when I make you cum. Keep your eyes on me, baby,” he whispered, Raven’s heart’s fluttering as she felt him fill her to the brim. 

“Fuckkkk,” she cried out as he drove into her deeply. Every stroke felt like heaven, a promised land he was so graciously sending her to. There was a vulnerability to the position that she had not expected, the way he looked at her with every thrust forward and retreat. 

“Look at me.” He demanded as her eyes fluttered closed. As soon as her eyes were trained on his, he uttered three words Raven never would have thought to hear from his lips. “I love you.” 

Raven was rendered speechless, her moans catching in her throat as she felt her stomach drop 100 stories. 

Did he say what I think he said? She thought to herself, her brain trying to cut through layers of pleasure fog to work properly. 

“You deserve the entire world, Rae. You deserve someone who’ll  give you this world… the sun, the moon, and the stars. And I don’t deserve you, I don’t deserve this. But I’ll spend everything I have, I’ll give everything I am to make sure you got it. I want more than an arrangement and six months with you… I want you, all of you, for as long as you’ll allow me.” 

His words directly clashed with the narrative she had in her mind, the seeds of doubt life and her family had sowed. And despite her heart begging her to scream the words back at him, those doubts stopped her. She heard his words but she did not believe them or rather, she could not believe them.  

She did love him, she was so in love with him. It was a devastating, beautiful, painful, once-in-a-lifetime sort of love she thought she would only read in the pages of love stories. But she felt it… every devastatingly beautiful moment of it every time she was in his presence, every time she felt his touch, every time he comforted her or looked into her eyes. 

But the words, those three precious words, were stuck in her throat. A barrier of fear and doubt, made even heavier by the events of the day, weighed them down. Instead of celebrating that the man she so desperately loved felt the same about her, she could only focus on how that just could not simply be true. The story she had built in her mind that she was not good enough, that she did not deserve him, that he could never love her, a part of her brain clung to it as a lifeline. She had given Michael this grand speech about living and falling but she could not do it herself. Because if she gave in and  allowed him to love her, truly love her, and then this was all a lie? That was the crash she did not think she could survive. She could handle her family hurting her. It knocked her down but she could always get back up again. But Michael? He would be her armageddon. If he hurt her, she would not get back up again. 

The avalanche was hurling toward her once again, only this time she was standing at the bottom without a barrier or way to outrun it. She was mere feet away from being swept up by it and all the emotion and vulnerability it brought in its wake. The day had just been too much, too heavy. And emotionally, she had not been prepared for any of the twists and turns the day had brought. She suddenly felt overwhelmed, so out of control of everything, particularly her emotions, the one thing she usually had under control. 

She felt tears sting the back of her eyes but she knew they were not good tears, the tears Michael usually induced during sex. No, these were entirely different. She quickly realized she needed a break, a moment. And the only thing in this world that she could control in this particular moment was the man above her. He was the catalyst every single time, the cannon blast that started the avalanche, that forced her to feel everything all at once. And she needed that to stop. She needed him to stop. 

“Wakanda…” she choked out, her voice as broken and small as she felt. 

She did not have a chance to repeat it as Michael immediately stopped his movements in mid stroke, his face stricken and concerned. 

“Shit.” He slid out of her without a second thought  and braced himself over her, shocked to find tears streaming down her face, her body trembling. He  immediately grabbed the blanket that was hanging half off the bed, wrapping her nude form tightly in it. “Hey, hey. You’re ok, you’re ok. You’re having a panic attack. Deep breaths for me.”

Raven curled into a small ball under the blanket, gasping for breath. Michael pressed her hand into his chest. 

“Focus on me, baby girl. That’s it. Deep breaths.” 

She closed her eyes and focused on the faint thumps of his heart in his chest, the way it rose and fell against her hand as she tried to sync up her breathing to his. He held tightly to her hand as she took long deep breaths. It felt like hours passed before either of them moved, before she felt calm enough to speak, but she knew it had likely only been a few minutes. 

“First a concussion,” she wiped her tears. “And now, a panic attack. I must be the worst woman you’ve ever had sex with,” she let out a watery chuckle. 

“Or the best?” he offered in a voice so gentle and quiet, it made a new set of tears well up in her eyes. She did not deserve him. “What happened? Did I hurt you?” 

She shook her head. “N-no, you d-didn’t. I j-just couldn’t… you can’t look at me l-like that o-or keep doing stuff l-like this. Pretending you love me just to make me feel b-better.” She shook her head rapidly. “I know you feel obligated to be g-gentle and shit when I’m having a bad day. But i-it’s just confusing. I know t-this isn’t real a-and I c-cant take anyone else pretending to love me or care about me when they r-really don’t.”  

“I’ve never done anything for you that I didn’t want to do, Raven. I’m not kind and gentle with you because I feel obligated. I’m kind and gentle because I want to be, because you deserve it. Do you find yourself so undeserving of all these things that it is that hard to believe that I’m in love with you? That I do all this shit for you because this is real to me??” 

“There’s no way that is true! You don’t love me!” She argued. 

“Yes I do!” 

Raven wanted to pull her hair out and scream at him. “Stop saying that! W-we are just fantasies to each other, Michael! P-playing a role that the other needs filled and j-just because the fantasy is nice, doesn’t mean I should kid myself into believing it is real. You’ll toss me aside as soon as this agreement is done because everything you feel is based on a fantasy!”

“You aren’t some fantasy to me, Raven!” 

“Fine! Not a fantasy! But everything we are is conditional… even you have to admit that. I mean we have a fuckin’ contract! Everything we are is based on me fulfilling those conditions! You can dress me up like a girlfriend but I know what I am when the cameras go away, Michael. I’m the girl you met in a hotel who was paid to fuck you!” 

He jumped off the bed and grabbed his phone, thrusting it into her hand. “Robert Pearson. Call him.” 

“W-who is that?” she asked, completely bewildered by the change in the conversation. 

“He’s one of the top reporters at TMZ. Call him, call him right now and tell him this whole thing is a fuckin’ sham. Hell, want me to start an Instagram live for you so you can tell the whole fucking world? I’ll do it.” 

She threw the phone back on the bed and stood up, wrapping the blanket around her like a dress. “I’m not gonna fucking call anyone or do that!” 

“But you could! That’s my point! You could call TMZ right now and tell him this whole thing was a sham, sell a fuckin’ tell all and I’d still love you. I’d honestly thank you for it because then I wouldn’t have to pretend I only love you because of some arrangement. I could admit that I love you for you. I love you for your vulnerability, your spirit, the fact that you give and you give and expect nothing in return and don’t even stop giving all of yourself when everyone else would. I love that you talk in fuckin’ sonnets and monologues. I love your relentless optimism and hope. I love your smile, the way you can’t look someone in the eye when they compliment you but it lights up your entire being. I love that you’ve got a wild imagination and you're quirky and funny and…” he threw his hands up in the air. “I. Love. You. I am in love with you. You can keep telling me to stop saying it, you can ignore it, pretend you don’t hear it, you can reject it. But it won’t change it. I love you. No conditions, no expectations. Just you for you. The question is do you love me?” he demanded. 

“It’s not that simple!” She tried to move around him but he blocked her way. She needed to get out of her, needed to escape this chaos. “Move, Michael.” 

“No! It is that simple. Do you love me? Forget everythin’ else. What you think you do and don’t deserve. Do. You. Love. Me?” 

“Of course, I fuckin’ love you!” she cried out. “I fell in love with you the morning I woke up with a concussion and you were sitting in my hospital room. I love you! But t-there’s… no one loves me like that. What you’re claiming to feel… no one feels that for me a-and there’s no way that you, a man who could get any one of the billions of women on this planet, would be the first. There’s no way you would settle for loving me.” She let out a deep sigh. “A-and my heart can’t take it… I can’t take the rejection and pain from people I love who don’t love me back anymore. I c-can’t. Which means I can’t believe that you love me. I’ve taken all I can take a-and if I accept that you love me, then I risk you rejecting o-or hurting me. And when you do, it’ll kill me.” The last word hung in the air as she sank down to the floor by his bed, her head buried in her hands. 

Michael settled down on the floor next to her, his hand grasping hers as he intertwined their fingers. There was so much to unpack in her words, so much that he knew he would not be able to convince her of or solve in one night. But there was one thing he knew he could assure her of right then and there. 

“There were a hundred ways I could’ve spun what happened between us that first night, hundreds of ways I could’ve dealt with you that would not have led us to this moment. But I chose the road I chose, not so I could have a body to use or fix a crisis. But because you stole my soul the moment you turned around in that hotel room. Loving you isn’t fuckin’ settling, it’s everythin’ I’ve wanted for damn near a decade but didn’t think I could have again. We’ve been standing on the edge of this cliff, waiting for the other to be ready to jump for months now. And I’m ready and you’re holdin’ on for dear fuckin’ life. I’m askin’ you to let go and trust that I won’t hurt you. I know that’s scary… shit I’m scared too. But I’m willing to jump if you are.” His thumb wiped away her falling tears before kissing her on the forehead. “I’m not lookin’ for an answer tonight, love. I know today… this week’s been a lot for you. I didn’t mean to add another thing on top of all the other shit, I just… needed you to know how I felt.” 

“Don’t… don’t apologize. I-I j-just got overwhelmed b-by everything. It’s been a day of unexpected emotional confessions,” she chuckled. “I…” she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I’m really scared. Scared of being hurt, scared of falling even more in love with you a-and another good thing being taken from me. B-But I want this for real with you too. I don’t wanna keep pretending what we have isn’t real when we know it is. If you’re ready to jump, so am I. And we can just be scaredy cats while we fall together?” 

He pulled her into his lap and pressed his lips to hers softly. “Not a fan of you callin’ me a  scaredy cat,” he teased. “But yea. I meant it when I told you, you’re safe with me. All of you. And I’ll do whatever I gotta do to make sure you believe that shit.” 

Her heart fluttered a bit. She knew he meant his words. If there was one thing she had always been with Michael, it was safe. And she adored that about him. 

“I love you,” she whispered. 

“I love the way that shit sounds. Say it again.” . 

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” her lips tugged upward into a grin as he started peppering her face with kisses and having her repeat the phrase over and over again. He picked them both off the ground and continued kissing her and causing her to giggle as he placed her back in bed. 

He settled her under the covers and pulled her tightly into his arms. Their legs were quickly tangled in each other’s as she laid her head on his chest. They laid there in silence for a while before Raven sat up. As much as she enjoyed cuddling in his arms, Raven wanted more. Emboldened by their confessions of love, she pushed herself to her knees and straddled his hips. 

“You used your safe word. We ain’t gotta…” she pressed a finger to his lips stopping him. 

“I know what I want and need, Bakari,” she whispered, using his nickname, which was only reserved for family and close friends for the first time. Michael was not much of a crier but hearing his nickname on her lips made his heart skip one or two beats, made tears sting the back of his eyes.  “And I want you. You showed me how much you loved me… now let me show you.” She gave him a sly smirk before shifting between his legs to taste him. 

The pair lost track of how many times they moaned or screamed those three magic words to each other. But by the time they were finished, their bodies a tangled mess of limbs and bodily fluid, Raven knew, in her heart, that his words were true. And so she fell asleep nestled in his warm embrace, feeling true happiness with anther person for the first time in her life.

Tag List: @readinghere2023 @blackerthings @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @physicxal @purplehairgawdess @miyuhpapayuh @rueruesclues @geemamii @certifiedlesbianbaddie @pipsqueak-98 @nyifly22 @destinio1 @twocentaur @gopaperless @musicisme333 @roguekiki @majesticbrownjawn @taurusqueen83 @mysteryuz @miamormilan @itsknor-thedeep @naj-ay444 @mads-grace4 @nayaesworld @kholdkill @msniaimani @nccu-rnc @apenasumlug4r

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A/N: The babes finally confessed their love for each other!!! Woohoo! How do you think our two lovebirds make the jump from fake romance to a real relationship? Thank you for reading! Drop a comment and let me know what you thought :)

[calmcal]

roommate adjacent -steve harrington

PART ONE - UNEXPECTED VISITORS

summary: A comprehensive list of why Robin Buckley is the best roommate in all of history; written by Y/N (and Robin Buckley....) one: she has the best movie recommendations for any mood, in all genres, for anytime of the year. two: she has a killer sense of fashion, total grunge/rock and roller/thrift store buying chic. three: she's not afraid to call anyone out on their dingus behaviours (and it happens a lot... hey!) and finally: her best friend steve...yeah. pairing: modern steve harrington x fem!reader word count: 2.9k note: hi, yes, welcome! this has been sitting in my drafts for far to long, it's been on my mind far longer than i'd care to admit. so i finally sat down and planned it all out, so enjoy this purely self indulgent steve fic I have literally fallen in love with! this first part is a little short, with very little steve, but i promise it get's better, so bare with me!

There's a universal hatred that's shared between those who can't drive, stormy weather. It's a common enemy they all share, the threatening grey clouds that loom over everyone, cackling at the thought of downpouring on some poor unexpecting souls. Drenching their clothes, soaking them to the bone, sticking them with the dreaded shivers and in worse case scenarios, gifting them with the god awful flu.

Yes it's a formidable foe.

One you were currently battling.

And loosing rather pitifully.

You held an umbrella tight in your hands, air whipping around you like a whirlwind, threatening to blow you down with a single gust. Well that might have been over exaggerating, but it was well within range to rip the umbrella from your iron grip. Splattering raindrops fell heavily on the small plastic tarp that made up the umbrella, sloshing down the pointed top and landing around your feet in little puddles. Stray drops slipping onto her cheeks, coating your skin with a sheen of cold water.

A shiver passed over your spine, winter was finally settling into your cozy little college town, and the weather was coming in full force. You wouldn't have been surprised if it started snowing tomorrow, but that was another battle, right now, you were more concerned with making it back to your dorm room in once piece.

And hopefully, mostly dry.

But it seemed the sky gods heard your hopeful pleas, and in your attempt in keeping dry, another strong gust blew your umbrella straight up, bending the little metal rods holding the plastic top covering your head, blowing back and exposing your entire body to the onslaught of rain.

"Crap!" You cried out, trying to reign in your clearly out of control umbrella.

But the wind had other ideas, blowing and bellowing around you, like it was laughing at your attempt. You tried to pry the arms of the umbrella back the right way, the way it was supposed to look, but the frail little arms screeched out in protest, wanting to follow the current of the wind, rather than your hand.

You grumbled a few nasty curse words at the umbrella, fulling knowing it wasn't going to cooperate.

You looked in the direction of your building, it wasn't far, another two minutes or so, you contemplated the thought of just making a run for it, leaving your umbrella behind, or standing there like a dingus, trying to fix something that was clearly broken for good.

The rain was splattering down heavier now, flattening your hair to your head, making it a little difficult to see, making your clothes stick to your shivering skin, goosebumps raising on every inch of exposed skin.

You bit your lip, thinking for a moment.

"Stupid piece of plastic" You spat at the umbrella, throwing it at your feet, like the offending pieces of metal and plastic had scorned you. "Can't even do the one job you were made for"

No one would blame you for leaving the umbrella on the walkway, clearly noticing the broken arms and upside down cone. No one was going to condemn you for littering, it's an act of kindness really, more than the umbrella deserved.

You hiked your back further up your shoulder, crossing your arms over your chest, tilting your head down a little. It did little to keep you dry, but you were a lost cause the moment your umbrella died, you'd given up on keeping dry. You made quick and precise steps towards your building, ignoring the chill that is slowly settling into your skin.

As if tormenting you, a clap of thunder boomed from somewhere behind you, and the rain followed tenfold, pelting you with icy drops of water.

"Shit!" You muttered, using your hands to cover your head from their harsh impact.

Now you were making a run for it.

Forget keeping equal steps to keep from slipping in the puddles that lined the sidewalk, you didn't care anymore, you needed to get out of the storm before the clouds decided they wanted to drown you in the middle of your college campus.

With a huffing laugh you reached the building, pulling the thick wooden doors open with a strength you didn't know you possessed. Warm air whipping around your water slicked skin, goosebumps returning. You took a deep breath, inhaling the warm air, filling your lungs.

You trudged up the stairs to the third floor, the elevator seemingly always out of order, you seriously cursed this day. Puddles formed around your feet with every step you took, squelching under your boots, making you cringe, thinking about the poor person who had to use the stairs after you, stepping into a wet surprise.

It was only water, they'd be fine, right?

You didn't care anymore, all you cared about was getting back to your dorm and getting out of these stupidly drenched clothes.

You breathed out a sigh of pure delight at the sight of your door, decorated with a whiteboard, your roommates squiggly writing covering the white backdrop.

Be back soon, meeting up with a friend, love Robin ❤️

You felt glad that Robin wasn't in the room, the last thing you needed was your roommate laughing at your misfortune. She'd do it out of love, obviously, but unnecessary love.

Having Robin Buckley as a roommate was a blessing. You'd been so scared that you'd have to share a small room with someone you didn't like, someone who didn't know personal boundaries, who didn't know how to keep a clean room or possibly even worse, someone who was obnoxiously boring.

But on the first day, you got stuck with Robin. A girl who was socially awkward and charmingly outgoing at the same time. She'd talked your ear off the first minute you met her, before falling silent when she realised you hadn't even introduced yourself to her. You loved her the moment you met, couldn't have asked for a better roommate.

She shared her love of movies with you, having the most expansive collection of movies on a hard drive, everything from the biggest blockbuster of all time, to weird indie movies in different languages. She had an expressive way of dressing, one day she'd wearing clashing colours of yellow pink, collared shirts with blocky stripes, khaki pants that you were sure didn't belong to her (they were like two sizes too big), to wearing black on black, chunky bracelets, layers of necklaces decorating her neck, black pleated skirts paired with ripped tights. On any given day, it was always a surprise; what Robin was going to wear.

You loved her confidence.

But with her confidence grew with you, the more she felt comfortable on calling you out on your 'dingus behaviours', a favourite of Robin's creative pass times. She didn't do it often, and she was well within her right when she did it.

Coming into your shared room, dripping wet, a dingus move indeed.

You were really glad she wasn't home right now.

You, with much difficulty, unlocked the door. You slung your bag off your shoulder, letting it plop down on the floor beside the door, ignoring the plopping sound that followed, following your slightly less damp boots, with a heavy thud. Trying to peel your coat from your soaking wet body, a different story, the fabric ignoring your pleas to cooperate. Clinging to you like a second skin, heavy with water.

With a huff, a lot of tugging and pulling, and a few jumps here and there, your coat finally fell from your body, landing on the floor with your bag.

"I hate the rain" You muttered to yourself, hanging the coat on the coat rack.

You trudged further into the room, bypassing the couch and the little kitchenet, heading straight for the small bathroom. You switched of the flickering light, waiting for a second, before the tiled room was lit up with dim yellow light.

You looked at your reflection in the mirror.

Gah!

Well, you've certainly looked better.

Your hair was plastered to your forehead, stray strands sticking to your damp cheeks. Your white sweater was clinging to you, like a fluffy second skin, weighing you down by half a pound. You were dreading trying to take that off, and you didn't even want to think about your drenched jeans.

Wet denim, what a nightmare.

You smoothed the strands of hair from your face, twisting your hair into a low ponytail, wringing the water from your hair into the sink.

"Hey, I'm back!" Robin's voice reached your ears, sounding like she'd swung the door wide open, probably expecting you to have been sitting on the couch. "Whoa, what's with the water park in the doorway?"

"Sorry" You called out in return, scrunching your sweater up, wringing the water out of that too, not that it did much.

You sighed, deciding it was better if you just took it off. You lifted the hem of the sweater from your body, cringing again as the fabric clung to your damp skin.

"Planning a fun extra curricular without me?" Robin's teasing remark followed.

"Funny" You muttered, pulling the fabric halfway up your torso, tugging harshly, pulling left and right to loosen the sweater, huffing, a little out of breath. "I'm calling it, this has literally been the worst day of my life"

"Feeling over dramatic are we?" Robin chuckled, her voice sounding a little closer now.

"I feel I deserve the right to be over dramatic" Your voice was muffled by your sweater, having got it over your chest, now the neck was stuck.

You gave a little tug, wincing a little as it gave a little struggle, but a tug and a wiggle allowed it to give way, leaving you clad in your wet jeans, semi dry white cotton bra, and a sweater that continued to drip on the tile floor held in your hands.

"My umbrella decided to die on me, right at the moment the rain kicked up a notch, not to mention the wind, totally uncool" You continued after taking the sweater off, throwing it in the washing basket, a problem for future Y/N.

You took a towel from the hanger, swiping it across your skin, trying your best to dry yourself off, before turning your attention to your hair, wrapping the scratching fabric around the dripping strands, the towel sitting tall atop your head.

"I keep telling you, you need to get your licence" Robin's singsong tone teased.

"Yeah, cause I'm gonna take advice from my roommate, who also doesn't have a licence" You retorted playfully, switching the bathroom light off.

"Yeah, and if you get yours, you can take me places instead" Robin matter of factly replied, sounding smug in her idea. "It's a win, win"

"For you maybe" You muttered, feeling gross still wearing your wet jeans. "I've decided that wet denim was invented by satan, just to torture me"

Robin snorted.

You rounded the corner, not looking in Robin's direction, so used to walking around your roommate in a half state of dress. Robin had become accustomed to the act very quickly, living in such close quarters with someone, got you comfortable rather quickly, alarmingly so.

"Seriously, it's itchy, and it just sticks to you in all the wrong places" You whined, looking through the clean piles of clothes you left on the back of the couch, looking for a pair of your pajama pants.

"So, don't wear jeans when it rains"

"Hilarious, become a comedian would ya?"

"It's my backup plan, you know, if this whole college thing doesn't work out"

"You've got potential"

"Clearly"

"Your overconfident too, it works"

"Maybe you should put some more clothes on, I think you're freaking Steve out" Robin sounded like she was holding back a cackle.

You paused, lifting your eyes from the pile of clothes in your hands, to see Robin standing in the kitchenet, but she wasn't alone.

Steve, Robin's best friend, a man you've met only a handful of times, was standing beside Robin. Trying his best to look anywhere but your half dressed figure, cheeks turning a bright shade of red, arms crossed over his chest as he tried his best to act nonchalant, shifting his weight from his left leg, to his right.

You took a moment to admire him, what with him avoiding all eye contact. Taking in the way his hair seemingly flopped just the right way, brown strands looking perfectly styled, but in a way that one might mistake it for an effortless look. He was wearing a dark blue t-shirt, a shirt that stretched right across his broad shoulders, looking a little tight around his chest, biceps peeking out of the sleeve, giving you a free show of his tensed muscles. His shirt was tucked into a pair of blue jeans, black belt separating the two tones of blue, a white and grey windbreaker was tied around his waist.

The outfit shouldn't have looked at good, but Steve seemed to make it work... he made it look cute.

All taunt and lean figure just leaning against the stove.

"Sorry Steve" You replied, feeling your cheeks warm.

"It's cool, it's your room, so whatever... Not whatever, I mean, you can undress all you want, NO, wait--" Steve stumbled over his words, still trying to not look at you, but he slipped up a few times, eyes trailing over her half dresses torso, cheeks turning even redder each time.

"Dingus" Robin muttered.

"I'm just... I'm gonna go and get changed, in my room" You replied, feeling embarrassed.

"Good, this is common space, respect it" Robin joked.

"Shut up" You retorted, taking your clothes in your arms, flinging your hand back, flipping your roommate off, which brought out the cackle Robin was stuffing back.

You huffed.

So much for that impression.

Steve probably though you were crazy.

All the talk of wet jeans and your stupid umbrella story, you wouldn't blame Steve for thinking you're out of your mind, who still had a little twinge of pink on his cheeks and couldn't quite make eye contact with you.

You tried your best to shake the thoughts from your mind, heading to your room, to change, and quite possibly bury yourself under your covers, never to be seen again.

"What was that?"

It wasn't the sound of Robin's shill voice that made Steve jump, it was the harsh slap that followed the question. Her palm slapping right across his arm, a harsh smacking sound rang though his ears.

"Ow!" Steve exclaimed, cupping his assaulted arm. "W-what was that for?!"

"For ogling my roommate like she's walking porn" Robin remarked with a knowing look, raising a brow.

"That wasn't what happened and you know it" Steve's eyes narrowed, looking at Robin with an annoyance she acquainted with his motherly persona.

"It's what it looked like from here"

Steve huffed, knowing no matter what he said, Robin was going to argue back tenfold with him, it was one of the few things she was good at.

"I didn't even look at her, I was being a gentleman" Steve narrowed his eyes, letting Robin know, this wasn't up for debate anymore.

"After you stared at her boobs for like, a whole minute" Robin muttered, pushing Steve with her shoulder, walking away from the taller man, practically throwing herself on the couch.

"That didn't happen!" Steve shouted, pointing a finger at Robin.

"Sure it didn't Stevie" Robin hummed, looking to smug for her own good.

Robin was only making this a big deal because Steve had mentioned, on a few occasions, that he thought her roommate was cute. He'd often ask Robin how you were, how college was treating the both of you, but paying keen attention whenever she mentioned you. Allowing his eyes to linger on you, the very few times he saw you in person, never having the courage to say more than a few words to you (something Robin torments him with on the daily, his lack of skills with women). He'd even made the grave mistake of asking Robin if you were single once, she couldn't stop gushing over his little crush on you, she never let him forget it.

But it wasn't a crush.

It wasn't!

Steve didn't know you well enough to put a name to whatever it was he was feeling, it certainly wasn't a crush. But he'd be lying if he didn't think you were insanely attractive, and seeing you in a pair of jeans that looked like a second skin stuck to your thighs, making your butt look all the more fuller and perky. Not to mention the bra, if Steve thought about it too long, he was sure he was going to pitch a tent. If he closed his eyes, he could picture your smooth skin, all supple and glistening with droplets of water. The cotton bra wasn't fancy, but it made your breasts look perky and ready for his awaiting hands--

No, stop it!

Steve shook his head, a little harder than he intended, to try and shake the thoughts of you from his mind.

The last thing he needed was for you to come back into the room and see Steve standing in your little kitchenet with a boner.

Yeah, that wasn't going to get him anywhere.

"She lives!" Robin's voice brought him back for good.

"Reluctantly so" Your soft voice returned the humour, throwing yourself onto the other end of the couch, still a little flustered, courtesy of Steve.

You turned your head, making eye contact with Steve. You gave a subtle smile, tilting your head.

"It's fine Steve, really" You shook your head, as if reading his inner thoughts. "It's not a big deal, forgotten already"

[mrsnancywheeler]

I’m back with more thoughts (I’ve been harassing you with the jealous Finnick and first time being intimate asks IM SO SORRY)

Imagine the pain Finnick feels when he has to walk to the reaping, seeing his sweet girl-no not his sweet girl anymore…seeing her at any point hurts him. It hurts his soul. His heart feels like a fresh bruise being pressed on when he sees her. But then, then her name is called, and instead of a bruise his heart is ripped from his body, chewed up and spit out by the capital. He gave her up so she’d be safe, he hasn’t felt her touch in two years so she wouldn’t be touched by the capitol. And yet, here she is. Walking up to the podium, on her way to a death game.

The heartbreak that he feels in the moment is probably unimaginable. The realization that giving her up, breaking her heart, breaking his heart; which she owns, was all for nothing.

Anyway I hope I’m not annoying you with these little thoughts haha! I’ll stop if so😅

Bye!

i love being bombarded with these sm please send me all your thoughts, pookie 💕

again I will probably get into this in the river more but like my poor boy

I swear this man he tells you not to be around, but he needs to see you. he'll make rounds around the market to try and catch a glimpse just to get jealous when you're happily talking with Conway or anyone else (I'm resisting the urge to say thing's I'm saying for the river and it's so hard) he told you not to come to his parties, but they're not fun anymore. now he's just sad when he's drunk, there's no giggly you around. and there's no comfort to his sadness without you. he wants to beg you to come back, to be with him, but he can't. no other girls his age hold a candle to what he felt with you and he feels like he's betraying you by just entertaining them.

and oh my god, of course you notice the way he spends all day, circling around the marketplace. you hate it because of how much I makes you love him, for keeping an eye on you even if he won't have you. how are you supposed to accept your life when he's giving you hope everytime he passes by? and he's such a masochist by continuing to even though it makes him miss you more every time

and I'm not saying that reader was reaped intentionally by snow to teach finnick a lesson, but that is what I'm saying.

and she's going to be sent to her death and then right beside her is the person who was supposed to take his place in your life, conway, and finnick hates that if this was going to happen that he gave you up to a life with conway when he could've been openly loving you all along

and maybe after all this time you've stopped loving him back, loathed what he did to you, but he doesn't care because he's going to spend as long as he can making it up for you and making sure you come home to him. finnick knows you so well that he sees that look on your face when conway is called, just for a brief moment and he knows his sweet girl is also a smart girl, he knows you have a plan to survive even if it breaks you in the end. and he knows it's selfish, but maybe it's worth it if he gets to be yours again and be the one to help put you back together.

no I literally love these sm and talking about them, it makes me think about what I'm gonna write later too, helps me brainstorm

[aquariet]

Nobody asked for it but I did it anyway

Have a nice post of me talking about every lyric in the song unsweetened lemonade and why it fits Icarus Morningstar. This was 100% inspirated by sage’s 18000+ word post analyzing the sherb playlist.

Since this is about a single song it lucky is only 952 words long.

What a lovely way to simply appear on tumblr again.

Now I’m gonna stop yapping.

I hope this is enjoyable.

“My eyes are made of acid”

The fact that one of Icarus’s eyes isn’t Normal. It’s constantly bleeding and thinking too much about specific things caused it to hurt.

“And my tongue is sharp with spite”

Icarus and manipulation. Their tongue being sharp with spite is cause they will say anything to get more people on their side. Both during the corruption arc and mid to end season 3.

“Attention whore with too much pride”

They want to believe what’s being told to them. By fable or in season 1 enderian. They wouldn’t listen to anyone that tried to tell them otherwise. Rea,Athena,Centross. Even the things.

“There's no one I wouldn't fight”

End season 3 and corruption arc. Icarus would fight anyone for the approval and attention of the gods.

“I don't like confrontation but”

He doesn’t want to have to kill people. But he does.

“I'm staring at the sun”

Them screaming at the sky in season one and Them screaming at the sky at quixis. Screaming at something that won’t talk back. That seems to only keep hurting them. (This is the last season 1 to season 3 comparison I swear)

“I won't quit until my eyes go red”

They need to stop quixis. No matter what.

“I'll finish what's begun”

Killing Hailey. They needed to do it publicly. So that everyone could see.

“I fucked the reaper cause I knew”

Prison duo after the cave. Icarus doing whatever they can to get centross back. Even if it’s a path straight down to hell.

“My time was coming can't you see”

The glitching in Icarus’s chest after the cave. It was gonna kill them and that was certain by the end of the finale.

“I'd do anything for twenty bucks”

Icarus would do anything for some sense of love. Specifically parental love. Obviously from fable. But also from enderian in the end reset. That’s their aunt. They don’t remember it. But it’s the only ‘real’ family Icarus knows.

“I'd sell my sour soul”

They would. Yea I have no real addiction to this lyric. Icarus literally almost died in the cave when fable tried to rip the glitching from their body. And yet they were grateful for it. They’d sell their live for their dad.

“Cause lemonade is bitter”

Young Icarus being like their dad. Hell. Icarus without the eye being very able to kill.

“Till you sweeten up the bowl”

The eye. The only reason Icarus didn’t kill more people. They wasn’t able to cause they weren’t 100% themselves. The piece of hardcore sherb keeping Icarus at bay.

“And I'm sitting in the bathroom”

Icarus being isolated. Far away from everyone.

“I'm crying citrus tears”

The wack. The reason they are isolated. They don’t want it to hurt others.

“Everything I used to love decayed over the years”

isla, momboo, centross. Icarus loved them. And had to loose them.

“It's hard to finish sentences I'll sell my pride instead”

They never had good reasons for the things they’re doing. And the things point that out. Quixis points it out. And what does Icarus do. They ignore it. They “sell their pride instead” cause if they admit they’re wrong they have to admit that all the bad they’ve done wasn’t for something good.

“Cause it's easier to focus I'm just the price above my head”

It’s easier to list to fable. To believe that they are nothing more than whatever he tells them to be.

“People think I'm pretty So I'll buy a hotel room.One bed trope without the tension”

fable gives them praise so they run away with him. Even though fable is almost never actually at the house. There is no tension cause they don’t spend enough time in the same space to have any.

“The child and her groom”

Icarus and Isla. The ‘good child’ and the ‘perfect wife’

“I didn't die at 12”

Icarus was supposed to die as a kid. Be dragged to the world port and done. However that didn’t happen. They kept living.

“I guess I'm here till 93”

By the time Icarus actually ‘dies’ they’re easily an adult. But before then Icarus is stuck in the same loop. Fall, forget, rescue fable, repeat.

“Enemies to lovers”

Icarus talking about fable. In the beginning he was the enemy. He was the bad guy. Then by season 2 he wasn’t anymore he was their dad.

“but you'll never own my heart”

Fable might be Icarus’s dad. But he never really makes any attempt to be a dad unless it benefits him and his needs. He’ll never own Icarus’s heart. Cause he’ll never try to.

“One sided it's pathetic”

Icarus does love fable though. He’s their dad. He gives them praise he believes in them. Or at least that’s what Icarus believes.

“How you think you're being smart”

Icarus thinking he can go to malici and just talk them into joining their side. His dads side. Without his dads help so that they can proof he’s worth it.

“Worthless parents make stupid kids”

Fable being an asshole dad directly affecting Icarus.

“The apple never strays”

Icarus ends up as a carbon copy of fable.

“Your conscience never compromised”

All the deaths being seen as okay cause they’re all gonna come back. They are gonna get them all back.

“And ego never pays”

Fable ended up too confident in themselves. Blabbing on and revealing everything in front of Icarus lead him to his death.

“I'd do anything for twenty bucks To feel more in control”

Icarus would do anything to stop the whack. Anything to make quixis do as they want. Anything to make sure things go as Icarus wants it to go.

If you can think of anything I missed (it’s probably a lot) don’t hesitate to let me know. I love to learn more little things about our favorite bird

[evilhagspage]

I love you, too.

Sam Winchester x fem!reader

warnings: allusions to sex, a few swears, she/her pronouns, use of y/n, written in first person

A/N: hey y'all! here is another little Sam scenario rattling around my old noggin. this takes place around season 6, after the whole soul shtuff. enjoy!

I'm standing in the dark kitchen at Bobby's house, pouring myself a bowl of cereal. I couldn't sleep, which is pretty par for the course these days, but especially since Sam woke up.

Sam and I have a complicated history. Dean and I have always been close, but me and Sam have always been...different. Long, stolen glances, sharing beds in shitty motels, staying up for hours just talking. Sam has always been my best, best friend. And truthfully, I have always been in love with him.

In between the sweet times have been some really, really difficult times. Times where Sam has completely shut me out, like when he went to college. Times when he was addicted to demon blood and SLEEPING with a literal demon while his brother was in Hell. After she betrayed him, he spent a while in Hell himself after allowing Lucifer to possess him. And, most recently, when he was traipsing around sans soul, hooking up with anything that had a pulse.

That is, until Dean struck a deal with Death, in which he returned Sam's soul. When he did this, Death constructed a wall in Sam's mind to keep him from remembering his time in Hell. This was a very strenuous process, which left Sam unconscious for quite a while. Until he woke up in Bobby's basement with no memory of the past year.

I jump and spin around at the sound of feet creeping up behind me, ripping me from my thoughts.

"Woah, it's just me...sorry," Sam says with his hands lifted up in a "please don't hurt me" gesture, a smirk on his face.

"Jesus, you scared me," I breathe out, clutching my chest as I heave from the scare. An awkward moment passes between us. A moment full of unanswered questions, unsaid truths. Sam clears his throat as he moves towards the sink, grabbing himself a glass of water. I stand leaning against the counter, silently munching on my midnight snack and stealing glances at him.

"So, uh, what are you doing up?" he asks.

"Couldn't sleep. You?"

"Yeah, me neither."

Another beat of silence passes.

"Y/N...I'm so sorry," he says almost breathless. I turn to him, a somber look on my face. "Sam..." I whisper.

"No, no, please. I mean it. I am so, so sorry. The way I treated you? The shit I put you through? You deserve to, to beat me to a pulp, you deserve to scream and berate me. But you're still here. You're still here, Y/N. I don't deserve your forgiveness. I know that. So I just need you to hear me say I am so, so sorry."

As I take in his words, I will myself to not cry. I can't ignore the squeezing in my chest, the ache of the past betrayal I felt from him. Even still, hope soars through my heart at his apology.

"Sam...I can't deny that you hurt me. You broke my heart," I begin, taking a shuddering breath before braving eye contact. He's looking towards the ground, nodding his head in agreement. "But, for some reason, I can't seem to shake you. Call it self destruction, call is stupidity, I don't know. But I do know that I love you. I love you in a different way than your brother. I always have. I know that you feel it. You're too smart not to," I finish with a chuckle, Sam hanging onto my every word like a believer listening to a revered reverand recite the holy scriptures.

"Y/N..." Sam breathes, stepping closer to me. "I-I love you too," He smiles, stuttering like a nervous school boy. I almost chuckle out loud, a swell of pride rising through me at the thought that I reduced the gentle giant to a flushed mess.

This kiss is a world of different from the first. We're hungry, chasing each other's mouth and running our hands up and down the other person's body. It's frenzied, selfishly taking what we want from each other to make up for lost time. Years of pining, years of stolen glances and lingering touches, of midnight conversations that last until dawn, years of dancing around the truth.

"Sam..." I sober up as he crowds me against the counter, his hand coming up to brush a lock of hair behind my ear.

"Can I show you? Can I show you how sorry I am?" he asked in a sincere, husky voice.

"Please," I all but beg. I run my hands up his strong arms and tilt my head up to his, before his warm, soft lips press against mine. The kiss is soft, chaste, and full of love. He pulls back for a moment, locking eyes with me before grabbing my face in his hands and kissing me with all of his might.

He hoists me up onto the counter, fitting himself between my legs. I run my hands through his hair, making him groan into my mouth. Oh, I am so remembering that for later, I think to myself. When we finally pull apart, he rests his forehead against mine and we both gasp for air.

"So, uh, is it safe to assume you forgive me?" he asks cheekily.

"Mmm, I don't know baby. I think you still have some grovelling to do," I reply mischeviously, biting my bottom lip and looking up at him. Sam's eyes grow dark, before he scoops me off of the counter and carries me up the stairs.

***

The next morning, Sam and Dean are sitting at the the kitchen table, already having newspapers and books strewn about, researching a new case. I make my way down the stairs, still in my pajamas and blissfully unaware of the state of my hair. Sam looks up and stifles a laugh, while Dean gives me a low whistle.

"Did you rest well, Sleeping Beauty?" he teases.

"Actually, no. I didn't get much sleep at all," I reply honestly with another yawn, while Sam fails to hide a (cocky) knowing smile. I fix myself a cup of coffee, before walking up behind Sam, running my hand through his hair at the nape of his neck. "Ugh, it's too early for that gnarly shit, baby," I grimace, looking over his shoulder at the crime scene photos he had pulled up on his computer. I sit down next to him and stretch my legs out across his lap, beginning to rifle through the newspapers on the table.

A few beats pass before we notice Dean has been staring at us with one of those sassy, blank glances, complete with a set jaw and furrowed brows. "We gonna talk about it or am I just supposed to pretend I didn't see that?"

Sam looks up, a confused look on his face and replies, "What do you mean?"

Dean scoffs. "I mean that whole domestic PDA shit. Yesterday y'all were hardly speaking to each other."

"What? We made up," I shrug non comittally.

Dean quizically looks between us and our complete non-chalant attitude before stuttering out, "So, so what...does this mean you guys are...like...together?? or something??"

"Yeah, Dean. We are, like, 'together'. This is seeming like a difficult concept for you to understand for some reason. We love each other, and like I said, we made up," I finish, smiling slightly as I tease Dean mercilessly.

Sam laughs as Dean gives me a look that says 'what the hell did she say to me?' before Bobby's voice echoes through the kitchen.

"The next time y'all decide to 'make up' mind giving me a heads up so I can use my industrial strength ear plugs? I'm scarred for damn life."

Sam's face flushes to his ears and Dean bursts out laughing before extending his hand to me. I match his giggles as I dap him up, before soothingly rubbing Sam's shoulder. Bobby shakes his head as pulls a beer out of the fridge and removes himself from the situation.

"Sorry, baby," I coo before laying a sweet kiss on his cheek, doing nothing to tame the blush on his cheeks.

"Who knew you were such a dog, Sammy!" Dean cackles at his embarrassed face as he moves back to his book.

[kosije]

a/n: remind me to never write my drafts onto paper (╥_╥)

cw: hawks x gn!reader, light angst, fluff, 1.5k words, song inspo

the night is blistering, but he continues to fly because he knows he has to. thick tuffs of air leave his lips as his wings autopilot to the only thing he knows. even after a draining month of constant villain attacks and undercover operations, Hawks keeps flying. he wonders if he’s still even recognizable with heavy bags under his dull eyes and ghastly appearance. if it weren’t for the crimson wings unique to him, would he even be identifiable? the stench of death has seeped into his clothes and is carried with him like an anvil digging into his spine. cold and quiet nights like these are usually hopeless and in vain.

but only usually.

because when the familiar view of convenience stores, parks, then your apartment comes into view, a flame of relief is lit under him that keeps him going. he lands on your balcony with a less-than-graceful thump and begins to smooth out his fading jacket and gold hair. without hesitation, the sliding door is pushed open by his gloved hand. your apartment is just how he remembered it. decorated in mementos and souvenirs showing the love there is here. it mirrors you an awful lot. warm with cozy incense and furniture around- he thinks your house is the closest thing he’s seen to a home. the title so close to being something the two of you can share, but with his job, it dissolves just as quickly out of his grasp like sand and a sour feeling flashes through his body.

That feeling triples as he realizes you left your door unlocked. he checks for signs of a break-in on impulse, but everything is in place. everything except for two mugs on your counter -one full and another with lukewarm tea in it that makes his stomach flip in a bad way. In a way that has bile bubbling up to his throat, threatening to come out at any moment. But he can’t sense that a single soul has been here except you.

Had you been waiting here for someone else?

When he hears the patterns of your feet approaching, his shoulders give slightly.

“you don’t always have to be so on guard, know.”

“It’s not very safe to leave your doors unlocked,” he says, trademark smile on, but it’s much more hollow than what you’re used to seeing.

“I was waiting for someone,” you say, long-sleeved sweater bunched into the pockets of your thick pajama pants as you softly land on the doorway with a soft thud from your shoulder.

he wonders he imagining the chill that shoots down his spine and freezes him in place.

“i’m talking about you, the tea, it’s for you.” and just like that, spring has ripped through the cold world and blossomed inside the walls that make up your house. feelings he can’t articulate bloom in his throat and his sharp tired eyes look familiar and tender in the reflection of your own.

“how’d you know i was comin?”

“i heard about the victory over that villain group you’ve been going back and forth with,” you start, “i guess it was just hope.”

“sounds like you missed me,” he says playful, as always.

“not at all.”

when hawks laughs it changes the air between you two. he relaxes and picks up the tea, gingerly drinking it with a smile so faint, yet contagious enough you let one spill on your lips just alike. you lift off your place on the wall and move to hawks, gentle hands move to slide off his gloves, and jacket, then lead him to your bed. there’s a creek of metal springs as he sits on the edge, hands feeling around your comforter. your room is just like how he remembered too. warm lightning preferred over fluorescent ones. he’s always made fun of it being a fire hazard — but it’s so much like you he finds himself in it. and not just in the literal way how he can see himself in some of the Polaroids decorations, or the photo of you two in his wallet, or in the cologne you bought him that he uses every day. but in a less physical sense. like how thoughts of you are relentless. a glimpse of you is woven into any and every mundane task he does.

like when he sees a shirt and thinks about if you’d like it. or when the sunset makes pretty colors, and he wonders if you’re looking at it too. from scents, to songs, to restaurants, and movies. when he finds beauty in something, he also finds you.

you turn to leave, but his hand catches your wrist. your face is sweet and if it weren’t for the hum of your heater overhead, he thinks you’d be able to hear his heartbeat. after he lets go of your wrist, you whisper a soft promise that you'll come back, keeping his eyes fixed on you while you move around the room, pulling things out of drawers. in a few blinks you’ve changed him out of his faded suede hero suit and into soft cotton flannel pajamas with cuts for his wings. rounding the bed, you sit up against the headboard, legs, and arms open, and motion for him to join you. he doesn’t know that he’s already moved until he feels your hands on his shoulders, turning him to turn and lay on you. when he feels you knead at the knots in his shoulders and back, he lets out a pleasurable sigh, amber eyes fluttering shut as he leans his head on you.

when he opens them again, you’re smiling at him. it’s something that feels much more domestic. gentle and dreamy, not to mention the lighting doesn’t help the fact you look cherubic. but he’s not complaining.

“you’re so pretty.”

you’re a little breathless when you say it, but his breathing completely stops. with just your hand moving up to run your hand through his hair, butterflies flutter in his chest and his face goes hot. maybe the bags under his eyes weren’t as big as he imagined. and maybe his ghastly appearance was a hallucination of his sleep deprivation. you’ve always had that effect on him. making him dizzy with just words and even making him forget all the bad of the previous month and just focus on you.

his response is a kiss. re-familiarizing himself with the curve of your lips and the taste of your strawberry chapstick. the feeling is euphoric. he feels the same weightlessness of flight, but he’s still grounded-stable. he thinks of you as his rock but as he turns to face you and calloused hand falls to grip the meat of your thigh, you feel as soft as a cloud. your lips only part for air as he shuffles to get closer and closer to you, devouring you between every gasp for air. the feeling pumping through his veins is borderline confusing. something of a calm wind, or a gentle wave flowing to shore. but it touches him somewhere that leaves him dazed. and it’s not until you pull away and run your thumbs under his eyes does he realize he’s crying. he doesn’t know why, but the tears don’t stop.

and when you bring him into your embrace, whispering it’s okay, something clicks, and he’s sobbing in your arms. helpless to articulate why, with how you press soft kisses into his hair and draw shapes in his wings with your fingers, he can place one feeling.

understanding.

throughout his existence, hawks never felt like anyone could know him. just the thought of being vulnerable made him scoff. but with you, it feels organic. it makes so much sense. and as his breathing evens out, and cries turn into sniffles, the three words that leave his mouth are ones he’s sure of.

“i love you.”

the way your eyes gloss over is heightened by the lamp on your nightstand and after a beat of silence, you tackle him and leave pecks all over his face that have him laughing at the sensation. when you echo his words, they vibrate along his chin and he can feel the smile on your lips without seeing it.

“sorry, what was that?”

“fuck off.”

he’s laughing again. scoffing, you go to pull off him, but he’s bringing you back down with his wings and kissing you slow and passionately. when he breaks it, you’re wide-eyed and a rush of pride surges through him. this time when you move off him, you’re pulling him up with you to move back to your headboard and slipping under your covers. with a single feather, he turns off all the lights in your room except for your fairy lights because he loves how they shimmer off your skin. thoughts of his job and anxieties are cremated in the warmth of your presence and leave him with a lovesick high.

with you in his arms, finally resting for the first time in months, hawks thinks he’s finally figured out what it feels like to have a home. It’s bigger than an idea or a place. and there’s nothing he’s more confident of than the fact he’s found home in you. and maybe this bliss is not as unattainable as he may have thought before.

[fawnforevergone]

Dante's Inferno References in Hozier's song "First Time" (+ a lil' song explanation) !!

Guys, I know I did the whole "Dante's Inferno references in 'Unreal Unearth'" already but I have thought of more things particularly with "First Time" and it's context of being in circle one, 'Limbo'.

Firstly, important context that 'Limbo' isn't so much a punishment as it is a placeholder in Inferno. It's for the unbaptized and virtuous pagans, essentially those who did not believe in God and therefore could not enter heaven, but also didn't do anything bad enough to be punished in the other eight circles. The punishment is to live eternally in circle one whilst feeling an infinite sensation of emptiness that is meant to represent the lack of God in their lives.

Now, moving onto the song and the GENIUS that it is.

"And the soul, if that's what you'd call it, uneasy ally of the body, felt as nameless as a river, undiscovered underground." The lost souls of Inferno find their way to their assigned circle by using the 'transportation system' of the five rivers of the Underworld. The first river that Dante and Virgil encounter is the river Acheron that Charon, the Greek psychopomp that transported souls through the underworld, delivers them down to arrive at Limbo.

Another one of the five rivers of the Underworld is the well-known river Styx that souls had to cross over in order to enter the afterlife. All of these things are referenced in this one lyric.

"And the first time that you kissed me I drank dry the river Lethe." Here, Hozier mentions another one of the five rivers. Those who drank from the Lethe would experience mental oblivion, unable to remember anything. Souls who were to be reincarnated usually drank from this river in order to forget their past lives. Hozier is also referencing the idea of being reborn, as he does throughout this whole song, but instead he's reborn by the relationship he has with his partner.

"As it was, and ever shall be, unearth without a name." This lyric seems to be a reference to the 'Glory Be' prayer - "As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, world without end." As aforementioned, Limbo's punishment is a never-ending emptiness; It's described as sorrow without torment, something so deprived that rational minds couldn't comprehend it. Hozier's "unearth without a name" mirrors the prayer's "world without end", showing that Limbo has the same infinity that God intends the world to have, but Hozier cannot even put a name to the feeling of Limbo, only that it is underground.

"Some part of me must have died/Some part of me came alive the first time that you called me 'Baby'." This lyric repeats throughout the whole song with minor changes, and references back to that idea of being reborn that Hozier establishes from the very start of the album with "De selby (Part 1)". The album compares Hozier's relationship with his partner to the journey of 'Inferno', and here we see Hozier effectively 'dying' as the relationship begins, allowing him to enter Limbo reborn as who his lover made him.

"These days I think I owe my life to flowers that were left here by my mother. Ain't that like them, gifting life to you again?" Since we have the context that Hozier is now 'dead', this lyric can be seen as his mother leaving flowers on his grave, literally gifting his body life. In the following lyrics, Hozier compares his life in Limbo to the life of the flowers gifted to him.

"This life life lived mostly underground, unknowin' either sight nor sound, 'til reaching up for sunlight just to be ripped out by the stem." Flowers are birthed beneath the soil on Earth, as Hozier has been reborn beneath the world in Hell, both lives lived underground. The theme of darkness that is regularly visited in both 'Inferno' and the album is shown here "unknowin'...sight", where the darkness of Inferno simulates a sort of blindness. The second half of the lyric references that loss of hope in Limbo, mirroring it to the idea of a flower being torn away from its only purpose of growing - similarly to how a soul is torn from its only purpose of living.

"Sensing only now it's dyin', drying out then drowning blindly, bloomin' forth its every colours in the moments it has left." The literal meaning of this lyric is the act of pulling flowers from their roots to simply put them in vases of water. The metaphorical meaning is Hozier attempting to hold up hope in Limbo. "Unreal Unearth" is very clearly a breakup album, and "First Time" tells us the compressed story of the relationship from beginning to end. We can take this song as Hozier beginning to lose faith in his relationship but desperately holding on, the way flowers know they're dying in a vase but continue blooming nevertheless.

"To share the space with simple living things, infinitely suffering, but fighting off, like all creation, the absence of itself. Anyway." Again, this references the ideas of flowers dying in a vase whilst trying to live cut off from their roots. The idea of "infinitely suffering" gives us that imagery of Limbo, but "fighting off...the absence of itself" also emphasises Hozier's attempts to rekindle this relationship the way flowers ignore the prospect of death in the hopes of living for a few moments longer. This little "anyway" at the end gives us the impression that, like Limbo, this is hopeless, and, as the flowers will, Hozier's relationship will die.

"When I was young I used to guess, 'Are there limits to any emptiness'?" The whole third verse shows us the final breaking of the relationship, but this lyric shows us that specific hopelessness that is felt in the decay of love. It really wraps up the idea of Limbo in this relationship; this soft acceptance that their love has died no matter how hollow it makes Hozier feel.

I personally think he is once again a MASTERMIND. Relating the death of a relationship to the wilting of flowers, especially flowers forced to stay alive, is perfect, like are you kidding me. Anyway, yes! That's my extra fathoming of "First Time" because there is simply too much to say.

If anyone else has anything to say, please lmk because there's nothing more I love than a Hozier deep dive :]

[kame-writes]

Cannibals Curse Part 5

- Questions and Answers

Alastor watched Rosie being the perfect host, pouring them both tea from an intricately designed teapot. There was a small display of finger foods on a tiered display nearby, mostly sweets, which he wasn't a fan of, but also a curious assortment of actual fingers in paper casing. 

It was so odd, to physically see cannibalism accepted and accommodated for, but he supposed since they were in Cannibal Town, it stood to reason. He vaguely remembered her chewing on a hand, but his memory of their meeting was hazy at best.

“Forgive me if this is an odd question. But I don't seem to recall much of what happened before you offered to bring me here.” He admitted, taking the offered cup and drinking some while he tried to think of how to word his questions.

“Was that just another quirk of death? Because I felt like a man possessed. I've killed people before, as I've mentioned. Same for cannibalism. But never… anything close to that.” Not that blacking out and killing hadn't happened before. But only with his first ever kill. He saw red and woke up covered in blood then too, but this was different, he wasn't himself in the most literal way. 

Rosie sighed, reaching up to remove her hat Pin and hat, placing it on the seat beside her, getting more comfortable for the potentially uncomfortable conversation. “I'm afraid it's a curse for cannibals like us. Apparently gluttony is a sin that warrants extra punishment.” She huffed, clearly not happy with the situation herself. “You'll never feel fully satisfied, I'm afraid. The hunger doesn't go away, but trust me, you'll get used to it in time. I barely even notice it anymore.”

“I'd hardly call myself gluttonous.” He scoffed, but took in the fact that this was something shared between the two of them, and probably most of the town he now found himself in. He wasn't sure if he was happy to not be alone in this, or annoyed that he was just part of a statistic down here. “So I take it, that it is something that happens to everyone? The animalistic urge. The body distortion?”

“Not everyone can distort themselves like you did. I was surprised to say the least when I saw it.” Rosie really had expected the poor sod ripped apart to the freshly fallen soul at first, before she realised what she was looking at. “Usually that's something only certain Overlords can do, or very powerful sinners at least. You already having that kind of strength isn't common.” 

“Overlords?” Alastor asked curiously. He very much needed to understand the hierarchy of this place if he was going to make a name for himself. Because he already knew that he wasn't going to just fade into the crowds and keep his head down. No, this was mearly a new hunting ground for him, a new and exciting dance. And he intended to learn all the steps before he went freestyle with it.

“Hmm? Oh! Hah, you seem so unphased by this, I keep forgetting ya only fell today.” Rosie laughed. “Overlords are people who own territory in the city. Usually you gain power by acquiring soul contracts, and defending ya territory.”

“So. You are the overlord of Cannibals, I take it?” He had an inkling that she might be some form of elected offical already, but now it was clear that she was actually some form of powerful entity aswell. Interesting. He did indeed have a talent for accidently stumbling across the right people. “I hope you aren't expecting my soul.” He added teasingly, to gauge her reaction.

“I already told you, I don't expect anything from you.” It would be wrong. Rosie didn't like to feel she manipulated people into a deal, he was too new, and still figuring things out. “Most of the souls in my possession are given willingly though. I can promise that yours is perfectly safe unless you wish to give it away.” She assured, not missing the way he was trying to see if she had ulterior motives.

“Good to know.” He put down his cup and eyed the severed fingers on display. “So, what triggers this curse? Because I doubt you'd be offering me severed body parts if eating it would cause me to become a beast.”

“It's usually the smell of blood. Which is why a lot of my people don't leave our little town unless they can control it. All our butchers drain the blood, so it's quite harmless for you to eat.” She demonstrated this by popping one for the fingers in her mouth, chewing it like it was nothing more than a normal morsal. 

“So, you keep your people close and loyal by providing them something they wouldn't get outside of your walls… That's rather clever actually.” He had to admire the system, everybody wins. Rosie got power and control, and in return, her subjects feel safe and understood in a way they wouldn't anywhere else. A perfect symbiotic community.

“Day one and you're already analyzing things. Planning how to rise in the ranks so soon? My, you don't start small, do ya handsome?” Rosie was amused watching this fresh-faced sinner already scheming. She'd have to keep a close eye on this one, he was going to cause a stir, she could already tell. “Hope you're not planning on overthrowing me as the new Cannibal Overlord?”

“Bold of you to assume we couldn't rule side by side.” Alastor said easily. He didn't flirt, he wasn't interested in that kind if thing, but he knew what people liked to hear, and he could see a potential friendship with Rosie.

Alastor pushed his hair away from his face, annoyed by the way it hung down when he leaned forwards to retrieve his cup. 

He stole a length of ribbon from his flouncy jacket, gathering his hair up behind him, before sighing and letting it fall back down. Of course it would be barely half an inch too short to prevent him from tying it back as he usually would. He guessed he was stuck with it long and loose. Lovely. Hell truly did make every little thing an inconvenience, didn't it?

“Now, I think there's a place downtown you can stay at for now, while you're finding your feet. But then we're going to have to discuss if you're staying here, and what’s going to happen.” Rosie said, in a kind, but matter of fact manner. “I like your moxie, but I won't let people take advantage of my generosity. No matter how charming they are.”

“Naturally.” Alastor supposed that was a very fair offer, he wasn't expecting a free ride of it after all. He wouldn't accept one even if it was offered, he was raised better than that. 

“Well then. To new friends?” Rosie raised her cup in a mock toast, tilted in invitation for Alastor to join in.

“To a new start in Hell.” Alastor added, bringing his own glass to hers with a clinck. Needless to say, this was not how he expected his life to turn out, but he would persevere, same as he always had; With a smile on his face, and blood in his teeth. 

Hell isn't going to know what hit it when he's through with them.

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