#the extra teeth/eye thing was me making them look more monster-y i love getting to do that :D

[howlsnteeth]

headshot comm for @duckatrice! super cool chimera :D (no kin/id/etc, please) || commissions like this are open!

[adobe-outdesign]

Have you reviewed Krabby an co.?

Krabby is a crab, which I'm sure is a very shock revelation to everyone reading this. While it's not the most unique crab Pokemon's ever come up with, it's at least got a nice aesthetic to it; there's something inherently appealing about the shape of those angular claws and the way the face is stylized. The simple counter shading, with a cream underside and red top and claws, also makes it read clearly despite the relatively complex design.

The only thing that bugs me about it are the random circles on the bottom carapace. They're less noticeable on the in-game models where there's not literally lines separating them, but they're just an odd detail that doesn't quite fit with the otherwise angular look.

Kingler does that Gen 1 thing where the 'mon is two stages and it just gets Bigger instead of really changing things up in a noticeable way (other examples include Muk, Rapidash, Electrode, etc.). With that said, it does look quite nice; the eyes are delightful and I love the jagged, toothy bottom jaw and multiple head spikes. The larger right claw also references fiddler crabs, and while I think Clawitzer did a more interesting take on them, they still work well here. I personally wouldn't have minded a more drastic design change than just "Krabby But Butter", but this is suitable if you like that kind of evolution.

If Krabby is fine and Kingler is pretty good, then g-max Kingler knocks it out of the park. I honestly think this is one of the best g-max designs, as it works both conceptually and visually. (I wouldn't have even minded it as a third evo, though the proportions might've needed tweaked.)

First, the mere fact that its based off of Japanese Spider Crabs; they have, quoting Wikipedia, "the largest known leg-span of any arthropod", making this an absolutely ideal pick for a g-max design.

And secondly, I love how it looks visually. The exaggerated limbs and the sheer spikiness of it pushes it much further into "monster" territory than the original design, as do details like the "teeth" in the claws (accurate to IRL crab claws). It's terrifying in a good way.

Some other nice details include spikes only on the larger claw to draw attention to it, the red eyes, the deeper orange color for higher contrast, and the extra joints in the limbs, which, once again, are accurate to IRL crabs.

The only thing I hesitate a little on is the beard. Crabs do produce bubbly foam through their mouths, something referenced in Krabby's original 'dex:

It also makes sense as a sort of visual pun; it's a "king crab", which is the name given to a genus of very large crabs. Plus, it adds something fun and unique Kingler's otherwise very straightforward inspiration.

However, it does feel just a bit too rounded compared to the spikes and angles of the rest of the design (the official art negates this a bit by giving it a similar shape to the inside claw teeth), and something about it just feels too jokey and forced compared to the otherwise very cool and creepy body. I think it might just be the mustache that does it; if it were just the beard, it would be more believable as crab foam and much more naturalistic.

Also, there's a bit of orange on the bottom half of the large right claw that adds nothing, though that's a very minor nitpick.

As a whole, Krabby is fine, albeit plain; Kingler, while still straightforward, is slightly more fleshed-out and is an overall improvement. The g-max is fantastic and the best design overall, with a more interesting "monster-y" design and a great concept.

[slasherrabbitmadness]

Beach day with the Slashers

Female Reader -Bo- Gender-neutral -everyone else-

Bo- Fingering but no penetration. Dirty talk.

Angst and Fluff with Herbert and Dan (They pronouns used for Y/N) Fluff with Michael and Jason.

Michael Myers (1978 with the extra height of the 2018 one)

> Wants to visit the beach during the day. He’ll even have his mask off. Instead of enjoying the beautiful view of the sun hitting the blue ocean, you spend your day staring at your handsome boyfriend.

> Michael is just there to scan for new victims. He kills people who litter, hates seeing wrappers and cigarette butts littered across nature.

> You egg him on to go swimming, it takes a lot of coaxing. “Please, Michael, just for a little bit.” He points to your belongings on the towel, “They’ll be fine, who’s gonna want to steal some sandwiches and some towels?” He shook his head. You got down on your knees and gave him sad puppy dog eyes. He grumbled then lifted you onto his shoulder, you squealed as you placed your hands on his firm back, rubbing his taut muscles.

> When he got up to his pecs in the water he threw you in. You came up for air, “Mikey, what the hell!?”

> “What? You wanted in the water.” He gave a small smile.

> He made you swim in front of the beach while he just stood in the water and watched. He knew you’d be fine, it was your belongings he was worried for. You caught his eyes, his already dark blue eyes were now matching the deepest parts of the ocean. He barreled through the water, pushing you aside. You watched him as he made his way up onto the beach.

> Some fuck had the bright idea to do some stealing. He just happens to choose the one man’s belongings you don’t fuck with.

> Before that guy had time to react to a six-foot-three man, hauling ass like he is a tiger chasing after a deer, Michael clocked him so hard in the face the man immediately went down.

> People stood around Michael, some congratulating him for knocking out a thief, others gawked “My God he swung that punch so hard.” “Is the thief even breathing?” Michael stood over your belongings, and turned back towards you, just making your way out of the ocean. Michael was mad, but not as mad at what he saw next.

> Some random beach Chad made his way over to you, “Yo, that was wild huh?” You gave a quick, “Ya.” not caring to speak to him, just wanted to get back to your boyfriend. “He just knocked that guy out in one punch.” You made your way up the beach, he grabbed at you “Hey, be careful, probably want to stay aw-”

>The poor sap never stood a chance, Michael swung his fist so hard Chad went flying back into the water.

> “I’ve had enough, we're leaving.”

> You were gonna protest, but when you scanned the crowd, you realized that yeah, we’re gonna go home.

> Walking back home, Michael held your hand, tightly. “Mikey?” He grunts, “You don’t like people touching your belongings, huh?” You turned to look up at him and he caught you in a kiss. He snuck his tongue in, dominating yours, you moaned and he pulled away. You whined and he smiled.

> “what’s mine is mine.”

Jason Voorhees

> He’s the beach’s lifeguard, so if you wanna spend a beach day with Jason, you’ll have to do it after hours. You would, but Jason takes the evening shifts too.

> Everybody loved Jason. Kids loved him, he was always so nice to them after all. He gave them swimming lessons. He was always so patient with them, never getting mad if a kid was struggling to grasp the basics.

> Men and Women loved Jason. His stoic demeanor, his calming presence...his bulging muscles. Jason was oblivious to all kinds of flirting. “Your hands are like, so big!” said a bubbly tanned beach bunny. Jason just grunts. A muscle-bound beach bro asked, “Bet you lift a lot eh, what’s your macros?” Jason just looked at his large bicep, he shrugged.

> When you visit him at work he gives you small waves then his eyes go right back to the water, not wanting to miss anything. Dedicated <3

> He doesn’t take a proper lunch break, he’ll eat his food while watching the beach, scarfing down the food as fast as possible.

> After a long day, you’ll finally have Jason all to yourself.

> Night swimming!

> You and Jason have splash fights, that he often wins, his large palms create huge splashes that knock you back into the water.

> Keeps you incredibly close in the water, will bug you to wear a life jacket if you ever swam without him. He’s very protective.

> Holds you close to him the further out you go. He won’t let you go, so it’s the perfect time to smother him in kisses.

> Jason hums into your kisses, his large hands running up and down your back, the water and his hands feel perfect on your skin.

> Jason couldn’t be happier that you're together.

Herbert West + Dan Cain - Poly relationship or what Derrick Barry calls a ‘throuple’

> “Please Herbert, for me?” He grimaced at you. Don’t you know how busy he is? Perfect specimens don’t just end up dead you know? Someones gotta end a life! You sighed and brought out the big gun. “Well, Dan said-” The moment Dan left your lips, Herbert was pushing you and him out the door.

> You and Dan had a blast, building castles, collecting seashells, playing some beach volleyball with another friendly couple.

> Herbert sulked under the beach umbrella, nose in a large medical textbook.

> “If you come with us, Herbert, we’ll get you a grape freezie!” Dan coaxed but it did not affect Herbert. Herbert waved you both off as if you were two mosquitoes bugging him.

> You and Dan walked hand in hand, swinging them in between yourself on your way to the little concession stand. “You sure it was for the best we brought him, Dan?” Dan looked at you and frowned, your eyes were a little glossy. “He only came because you were coming.” You felt the tears rolling down your cheek.

> “fuck, Herbert, you little monster.” Dan cursed to under his breath. Dan knew Herbert gravitated more towards him. It’s not that Herbert didn’t like you, just Dan was there first. Dan never told you but he often caught Herbert staring at you, a softness in his eyes that Dan knew meant one thing…

> “I’m sorry…” You mumbled, quickly rubbing the back of your hand over your eyes. Dan shushed you and brought you in for a hug, kissing the top of your head.

> “Don’t be, Herbert should be. Some Vitamin D is much needed for his pale little body. I’ll talk to him, okay? In the meantime, focus on me!”

> Dan and you continued with the most fun day ever. You ate your freezies, swapping flavors halfway through. A little boy asked Dan to help with flying his kite, Dan’s height coming in handy.

> Herbert stewed in his spot under the umbrella, watching you and Dan have fun, “Hmph, wasting time.” He kept peeking from his book, eyes on you, how you smiled when you looked into Dan’s eyes, how you leaned in closer, head resting on his shoulder. How Dan wrapped his arm around your waist, lips on your ear whispering...God knows what, Herbert can only imagine.

> “They could just yank me away from this, make me spend time with them...not that I want to. But if they dragged me away from my book then I’d have no choice.”

> When it got late, You and Dan packed away everything into the bags, Herbert supervised. How helpful/s

> Dan had you drop a few of the smaller items at the car on your own, he made Herbert help with some of the heavier items. As your figure became smaller and smaller in the distance, Dan turned to Herbert, “You know, they wer-”

> “I can’t believe you two, frolicking about so openly.” Herbert had cut Dan off. Herbert fumbled with the bags while trying to push up his glasses. Dan fumed.

> “You mean act like a couple, which we are, which you're a part of. Or are you only a couple with me?”

> Herbert snapped “excuse me, you and Y/N are most certainly a couple, which I have no part of.”

> Dan scoffed and shook his head “They want to be with you too, Herbert, They do like you, They feel upset with how you treat them. Now I know deep down you adore them, you best start showing it.”

> Herbert stopped, he looked at Dan and then at you in the distance starting the car.

> Later that night, Herbert had asked if you’d help in the basement. As tired as you were, you went to help. Herbert scarcely looked at you, but he found ways to touch you. Hands ghosting over yours as you handed him some flasks. Grabbing your hips softly to move you out of the way.

> “Everything good, Herbert?” You asked. His eyes looked everywhere but you. He stepped a little closer to you, His face only a foot away.

> He smashed his lips onto yours and wrapped you up in his arms. His hands rubbing along your sides, pulling you in so tight you were surprised he was strong enough to bring pain that way.

> “Don’t cry over me. Okay?” Your face felt hot, you nodded. “You are mine too, not just Dan’s, okay?” You nodded again. “Good. Now kiss me.”

> The kiss started tender but that just wasn’t gonna cut it with all the tension between you two.

Bo Sinclair /Female reader/

> Lookin’ at all the pretty girls go by.

> Catches you catching him staring, flashes his baby blues at you, “C’mon darling, you know you're still the apple of mah eye.”

> Gets pissed when other guys check you out. Strolls on over and wraps an arm around you, sneering at the Chads and Kyles.

> “You just had to wear that sexy little number, didn’t ya?” He snarled in your face. You grabbed your tits in the cute red bikini and gave them a Lil shake.

> Bo yanked you away from the beach, you protested, hitting his large forearm, “Bo, what the hell? Oh come on, you act like a leech an-” He cut you off, his lips slammed onto yours, the kiss was teeth and a little tongue action.

> Bo had yanked you away to some run-down looking bathrooms, the paint was so old it looked like the original coat from the 1960s

> “Now, Darlin, looks like you’ve just been wanting to rial me up now, huh? Wanting those sons of bitches to fuck you?” He leaned in close to your ear, his heavy breathing making you shake with anticipation. He suckled on it, causing you to buckle at the knees.

> “Bo, no I didn’t wan-want ah, the- them to” You were panting as he made small circles on your clit over your bikini bottoms. His fingers were calloused but he could be surprisingly gentle.

> “Now, yah best be quiet so no one hears ya, understood, Doll?” You whimpered and Bo flashed you his pearly whites. “That’s a good girl.”

> You should make him jealous more often.

[sweetchup]

Bi•valve

Noun

an aquatic mollusk that has a compressed body enclosed within a hinged shell, such as oysters, clams, mussels, and scallops.

AKA

The Most Common Seashell in the Ocean

————————

Vol. 2: Into the Deep // Ch. 9

Type: Poseidon x reader

Word Count: 2,000+

⚠️Warning⚠️: Mature Content

Masterlist

————————

Minutes, perhaps hours went by as the scenes continued to shift in front of you. Some scenes were consistent, such as Triton’s bedroom, the main hall or the back garden, while others, not so much.

After seeing Triton’s and Poseidon’s first meeting you haven’t made a peep. Choosing instead to listen carefully to the grand voice that controlled this plane or what was happening in the scene in front of you. You wanted to take in all that was happening.

Soon, perhaps too soon, the final scene appears. Just like where they had met, this final scene took place in Triton’s bedroom.

Triton, now 1 year old, was alone with Scylla as she attempted to teach him how to walk. Hoping to get him to walk a little bit before his father stopped by for the day.

“Come slowly to me, Master Triton.” Scylla coos out at the child. Shaking Triton’s favorite toy in the boy’s direction to get his attention. “Try to lift—“

“Scylla!”

Scylla is startled as suddenly Maria, a laundry maid and her friend, comes barreling through the door.

“Maria? What’s the matter?” Scylla asks the younger woman as she picks up Triton and makes her way over.

“Y-You need to hide! Lady Amphitrite caught wind of you spending time with Poseidon-n when you were taking care of Lord Triton and took it the wrong way. She’s on her way right now.” Maria frantically explains as she wipes the sweat off her brow. Instantaneous getting to work to hide Triton’s toys. Knowing that if Lady Amphitrite found such nice things she would get suspicious of Lord Poseidon’s feelings for Triton.

All of a sudden a long crashing noise rings out from outside, frantically Scylla runs to the window to look outside. It was Amphitrite. She didn’t have much time.

“Maria. Take Lord Triton and hide him under the clothes in your basket as you make your way to the Laundry room.” Scylla frantically explains as she hands Triton off to the younger woman.

“B-But what about you?”

“I can’t worry about myself right now. If she comes here in her current state of mind, even Triton won’t be protected from her wrath.” Scylla mumbles out, fear dripping in her veins as she pushes Maria out of the room. Making sure no one was near, she grabs the basket and, with Maria’s help, carefully covers Triton in the dirty sheets. “Please be safe, my Lord.”

“Be safe yourself, Scylla. Try not to anger Lady Amphitrite more than she already is.”

“I will try.”

And with that, Maria leaves. Running away from the scene as Scylla shuts the door to Triton’s room. Accepting her fate.

“Please, Lord Poseidon. Make it back in time. For Lord Triton’s sake—“

“Where is she?!” A booming screeching voice resounds from out in the hallway. One that even sent shivers up your spine as you watched on.

It only takes a couple of seconds for Amphitrite to find Scylla. Breaking down the door to Triton’s bedroom in the process. Her usual neat fiery red hair was a mess, tangled and astray in every which way. Her eyes were mad and furious, looking crazily at the nymph who kneeled on the ground before her.

“YOU.” Amphitrite booms out, furiously stomping her way over until she stands inches away from the Nymph. She scans the room, seeming to attempt to find something before turning to the guards, “Go find the Child.”

“Yes, My Lady.”

“M-My Lady. I beg of you, let me explain.” Scylla sputters out as she shakes in fear in front of her master. “Ah—“

Scylla quickly bites her lip to stop herself from screaming in pain as Amphitrite digs her heel into the back of Scylla’s hand.

“Explain what?” Amphitrite venomously spits out at the nymph.

“I-I was only trying to get Lord Poseidon to become closer with Lord Triton.”

“Trying to get them to become closer?” Amphitrite repeats through gritted teeth, digging her heel once more into Scylla’s hand before pacing away. “As if that asswipe would care about his own son. He doesn’t even look at his own wife. His beautiful gorgeous wi—“

Amphitrite’s rant comes to a screeching halt as Poseidon barges into the room. His eyes are cold and hard as he stares down his wife, his trusty trident clutched tightly in his fist. So tightly, you could even see his knuckles turning an unsightly white.

“Oh, if it isn’t Lord Poseidon. Here to save your whore?” Amphitrite bitterly spits out to her husband before laughing maniacally to herself as she tugs at her hair.

It was official, she had gone even more bad shit crazy than she already was.

“Enough. How many times have I told you to cut it out with that shit—“

“Poseidon!” Scylla shouts out as she makes her way to her feet and runs over to Poseidon. What in the world was she doing? Was she trying to anger Amphitrite?

“Maria. Maria has Triton.” You overhear Scylla murmur into Poseidon’s chest as she leans against the god. Poseidon seems to freeze a little and you understood why.

He either had to fight Amphitrite here, which could take a while, or go try to grab Triton before the guards find and take him.

“Poseidon, I love you. Please protect me.” Scylla shouts out as she pretends to weep. However, from where you and Poseidon were standing, you could see her mouth the words ‘Go’ and ‘leave’.

You feel your stomach drop. Scylla was putting up an act in front of Amphitrite so the attention would be on her. Giving Poseidon an excuse to leave and enough time to save Triton.

Poseidon seemed to know this as well as his grip tightened even more on his trident as he shook his head at the elder servant in front of him, “You fool.”

“We are caught. Do what you must.” Poseidon's voice booms out as he lowers his trident and walks away. Choosing not to even spare a second glance as he turns the corner.

“You…. YOU FUCKING COUG—“

As Amphitrite lungs at Scylla a blinding light over takes the room, officially ending the scene. The spirit of the mirror seemed to have done you a favor by sparing the gory and curse details that would happen only moments later.

Shaken up, you collapsed to the floor as you found yourself face to face with the mirror. You were back where you started.

“Lady (y/n)?” Startled out of your trance-like state, you turn to Scylla. The present day Scylla.

“S-Scylla I—“ You stutter out, scrambling to your feet. “I-I’m…”

“It’s fine.” Scylla states out with a sigh, seeming to already understand what you were trying to say. As she had already heard it many times before, “You don’t have to feel bad for—“

“Could I give you a hug?”

The elder woman pauses for a moment, “A hug?”

“A-Ah sorry. Is that disrespectful in any way? I just felt like you really needed a hug and…” You take a pause as you anxiously rub the back of your neck, “…I really need to give you one after seeing that.”

It’s silent for a moment as Scylla ponders your offer.

“…Fine.” Scylla sighs out as she massages her forehead. The wrinkles on her face smoothing slightly as she does so.

At Scylla's confirmation, you throw yourself into the sea monster’s arms. Being extra careful not to squash the Pomeranians that were attached to the front of her body as you do so.

Scylla lets out a small sigh before eventually wrapping her arms around you as well. What was she going to do with you?

She was old. Having been born around the same time Lord Poseidon and Zeus’ mother was born and she had seen many souls in her lifetime but…never like yours. It seemed normal when she first saw it, like any other human.

But, perhaps that’s what made it so special in the first place. For the simple fact that you were a normal human. Caring, empathy, weakness. Containing so many things higher beings are repulsed by.

Yet, you seemed to wear them with pride.

“What am I going to do with you, Lady (y/n)…” Scylla whispers lowly under her breath as she finally relaxes into your touch.

—.—.—.—.—

“Lord Poseidon. I just got the files from—“

“Put it over there.” Poseidon mutters out to his attendee, not even lifting his gaze from the paperwork he was working.

“Of course, sire.” The attendee, quick and quietly, places the papers down before exiting the room. Knowing not to disturb his lord longer than needed. As soon as a small thud of the door closing resounds, Poseidon’s pen stops and he finally lifts his head up.

He should be getting all this paperwork done in preparation for the upcoming cold season but he just couldn’t seem to focus.

What was it….

Poseidon usually wasn’t one to ponder on trivial things. After all, he was a god. If need be, all he had to do was say something and the problem would be taken care of swiftly. But, he couldn’t do that in this case.

Poseidon rubs his temple with a small grunt as he attempts to shake out the scene from last night out of his mind.

That blasted scene, again.

Shaking his head one last time, Poseidon stands up from his seat and walks over to the couch nearby. He needed to figure out what to do about you and, especially, Triton.

Foolish Brother.

If Zeus hadn’t egged Amphitrite on so much, he wouldn’t even be pondering this right now. He would simply just ignore the boy until those annoying feelings went away once more. But, he couldn’t do that with all those assasination attempts being made from Amphitrite.

Three Maids have already been caught trying to sneak weapons into the premises and Five more have been caught trying to poison your food. And that didn’t even begin to cover all the number of poisonous and deadly sea creatures that were sent into the area.

“What if our only Heir tried to eat her food, you blasted Woman,” Poseidon scoffed as he poured himself a glass of wine. He needed it after all, with the sun already setting and tons of paperwork still needing to get done, it was going to be a long night.

A loud knock suddenly comes at the door.

“Come in.”

“Hello, My Love.” Poseidon feels his eyebrow twitch in annoyance at Amphitrite’s sugary sweet tone. Great. It seemed another distraction had come knocking at his door.

“You should rest. Look at how tired you are.” Amphitrite coos out as she makes her way towards her husband, taking a seat on his lap before he could argue or shove her away. Gently and slowly, Amphitrite takes her fingers and traces Poseidon’s jaw line. “You're so tense. Let me help you relax.”

Poseidon grunts out in distaste as Amphitrite places a kiss on his throat. Slowly, beginning to place more as she goes on.

This woman…

Poseidon sighs out lightly as he shakes his head. Let her do as she pleases for now. If she causes a tantrum now, it will only cause more trouble later.

As Poseidon takes a particularly deep sigh this time, he accidentally catches a wift of Amphitrite’s perfume on her neck.

Jasmine and Sandalwood, He can’t help but note. Two very strong, sexy scents. Ones that even more solidified Amphitrite dominate and Sultry personality. Any other man would probably be drooling on the spot from such a scent but not Poseidon. Never Poseidon. To him, it only overwhelmed his senses so much that it was starting to give him a headache.

What a pain.

As Poseidon tries to slip deep in his thoughts to ignore the oncoming headache, his thoughts accidentally slip back to you. As if summoned, the warm scent of cedar wood and vanilla overtake his senses. The same exact scent he caught on you when you were leaning against his shoulder while he was carrying you yesterday.

Damn it. Poseidon grits his teeth. Why can’t he seem to get her out of his head? He definitely needed to investigate this more. For this wasn’t normal. Just hours prior, he was reimagining her ghost-like touch on his hand.

“Tch.” Poseidon lets out as he is broken from his thoughts. Instantly grabbing onto his wife’s hand that, while he was lost in dreamworld, had travelled down much further than he appreciated. “Enough.”

“Don’t lie, My Lord.” Amphitrite purrs out, as leans more into her husband, “I could feel how hard you were starting to get for—“

“Enough.” Poseidon repeats again, this time pushing Amphitrite off of him so that she falls to the floor in front of him. “You are foolish to think I don’t know what you are up to.”

“Am I not allowed to spend t—“

“I’ve already heard from the servants about how you’ve been drinking and consuming things to boost your fertility recently.” Poseidon reveals as he swirls the wine in his glass, “If you think I’m going to knock you up once again with a child, you are gravely mistaken.”

Taking his gaze away from the wine, he glares down at Amphitrite, whose mood has now greatly soured. Practically foaming at the mouth from anger.

“If you are going to have a pathetic temper tantrum then leave.” Poseidon orders out, closing his eyes as he decides she is not worth looking at.

It is only at the deafening sound of the door being slammed that he opens them again once more. Amphitrite was long gone, her only traces being the cracks left on the wall from the door and a lingering scent of Jasmine.

However, Poseidon couldn’t care less. She could throw all the tantrums she wants but he would never have sex with her. For the one, and only, mistake he ever admits to making was accidentally getting her pregnant.

And, he has no intentions of making that same mistake again.

Author Note: As I warned before, Poseidon scene is a little weird. Like Bro, pull yourself together. But at least now that the reader nows what is going on from Scylla so Plans and events will be in motion. Especially since reader has to decided if should hate or possibly help Poseidon with his relationship with Triton. Onto the next chapter :)).

Also Decided to post this Chapter earlier since the other one got posted late yesterday’s

Taglist: @angeli-fucking-cat @marixxhq @sproutcorner @orophaea @anime-lover-forever-1127 @fortuna-stella @icy-spicy

[thedelusionreaderbitch]

Kaz Brekker x Reader - Your What?! Part 1/2 (Soulmate au)

A/n: So I can't believe I'm doing this but... This a soulmate au! With Kaz fucking Brekker! I'm just going to cry in the corner now... I also decided to split this into two parts, so part 2 will be out tomorrow!

Warnings: language, mentions of trauma, mentions of the menagerie, mentions of death, I think that's it? You have been warned!

Summary: You and the crows are on a mission and your soulmate mark starts burning

All rights go to Leigh Bardugo, Netflix, and you! I just own the plot!

Soulmates are the bane of my existence.

You can say otherwise, tell me that I live in a wonderful world to have a chance to even meet my true love or whatever. Personally, I think it's bullshit.

Come on! Most people probably don't even meet their soulmate because the whole system is stupid! Maybe it was different billions of years ago when people couldn't have the same initials but now it's not about the initials.

It's about the pain.

Knowing the initials is just a slight sign to help you along your journey. The pain where those initials are is what it really is.

When your soulmate is hurt or in danger you mark will burn. Depending on the level of how much pain or danger they will be in it could feel like a mosquito bite... Or feel like your getting stabbed multiple times.

In my opinion well really... I don't give two fucks about it. It is what it is but the worst part about soulmate marks is when the person dies.

So when your soulmate is going to die, or is VERY close to death your soulmate mark fill start to flicker. Apparently it's worse then the normal pain you face with soulmates. When the person dies though...

In the case that your soulmate dies, the mark will slowly fade away causing you excruciating pain that could last YEARS. (Dramatic I know.)

That's what I used to think anyways.

When my sister finally escaped the menagerie I was ecstatic, but then she got dragged into the whole 'ice court heist,' so that was fun. In the time that everything happened I eventually got dragged down with her when Ketterdam was on lock down looking for criminals.

Then I found my soulmate.

Kaz fucking Brekker. Or Kaz Rietveld would be more correct, I guess.

After the whole heist was finally over we decided that fine, we could bond and we did. Being us, we didn't tell anyone not to stir up trouble, (we both had enemies) and because Inej Ghafa was my sister. Her and the others would be very protective of me.

Not like they can stop me though.

"Y/n." I snapped my head to look up to Kaz and he raise's an eyebrow at me.

"Don't kill Pekka." I roll my eyes at him. Since Kaz did tell me about his past I told him if he wouldn't kill Pekka I would.

Or at least his son.

I sigh. "Fine but don't expect me to give him a fucking birthday present."

"I never said you had too." Kaz says blankly and I almost grit my teeth together at the thought of Kaz having no emotions. Wow, people really don't know him. Though I guess that's the point.

The Crows and I start walking towards the warehouse-club and Kaz walks with me step by step. That must means he's worried because most times he doesn't even look at me when we're on a job to not show weakness.

Shit.

I brush my hand quickly up against Kaz's gloved ones and I give him a nod.

A promise.

A promise to make it out alive as long as he does. I step back and lower my pace so I'm not leading with Kaz anymore and I fall into pace with Inej and Nina.

My mind goes to when Kaz found out I was his soulmate. I had found out on when he went on a mission one time and I just... Didn't tell him.

*Flashback*

The walls of the Crow club all the sudden become suffocating as I stare intently at Kaz. I spin on my heels and dash out the doors tears filling my eyes. I don't even know where I'm running, I just needed to escape out of the Crow Club.

I need to escape the disappointment.

I slide down onto the wall of the alleyway feeling like a fool. How could I have ever thought someone like Kaz could love me. Regardless of the soulmate mark he didn't even know about.

I sense a someone is in front of me and I go to lift my head up and a man has me at gun point. I go to grab my knives. Shit. I curse every saint ever in existence. They aren't there. I don't even have a gun.

Bare fists I guess it is for me.

We turn in a circle and he clicks the safety off his gun and in a split second I duck when I hear a short, boom!

I growl in pain as a bullet goes through my shoulder and he goes to shoot again and...

BANG!

The man drops dead to the floor.

I turn around and behind me is Kaz holding a gun, but his face is in pain and worry is there as well, spread across his face more plainly then I had ever seen before.

"Your my soulmate." He mutters and I barely hear it. My chest heaves and I just nod my head not being able to speak.

He come's over and pause's right in front of me, just a foot away. Slowly, he takes off his gloves and he nervously takes my hand and laces our fingers together.

Then we start walking back to the Crow Club.

To a new future. Together.

*Flashback over*

"What do you even have against Pekka Rollins anyways, Y/n?" Inej questions me as we speed-walk to the warehouse where some Dime Lions are stirring up trouble.

My brain scrabbles to put something together but I have always been a efficient liar. No offense to my sister she's fantastic at what she does, but lying had never really been her thing.

"Rollins is a barrel boss." I shrug my shoulders seemingly uncaring even though there is so much more layers to it. But I guess I'm not lying.

Yet.

"So is Kaz." Nina points out but I already planed for that response.

"And we're dregs. Pekka is a big barrel boss, he scares off people from coming to the dregs. It's a problem and it's getting on our ass's." I grumble.

"I didn't know it mattered to you that much." Inej states. I wanted to scream in her face. He killed Kaz's brother! He almost killed Kaz! He creates monsters where ever he goes and tries to control them like caged lab rats! But I couldn't do that, so furiously I snap at her.

"Well it should to me, it's my job."

Nina and my sister both look at me weirdly, oh crap. They don't know I have basically the same authority as Kaz. Fuck.

*Flashback*

"Why give me a promotion? Isn't there other people who could use it? Who would do better than me?" I ask Kaz as he goes through the papers on his desk.

"I wouldn't trust anyone else to do it." He looks up to me and starts to get out of his desk. He goes to the door but before he can open it I grab his arm.

"I basically have the same power over the dregs that you do. I don't think that's a good thing."

Kaz just shrugs his shoulders and opens the door.

"What's a king without his queen Y/n?"

*Flashback over*

"Wait what?" Nina asks confused.

At least it goes off the topic of me hating Pekka Rollins with everything I have. Internally I sigh at my foolishness, I had only accepted Kaz's request recently, so no one really knew who was helping him out all the time.

*Flashback*

"Nemesis." The man whispers as I circle around him using the blinding light and the darkness to my advantage.

"Yes, and I get to decide if you live or die. Tell me, did you kill that little girl - Oh what was her name? Sarah was it?" I say loudly my voice confident and dangerous.

"No-no!" The sleaze ball yells and I throw one of my knives at his hand. The knife goes through his hand sticking it to the wall. The man screams out in pain.

"Liar." I hiss.

"Fine! Fine! I killed her!" He manages to scream out. "I killed her." He sobs as he says those three words again.

"Good." I say as I secretly pull a knife out behind my back into my right hand.

"I will grant you mercy." I whisper into his ear.

"Oh thank you!" The man sobs. "Thank you!"

I quickly slit his throat and he chokes on his blood for a few second and horror frames his face, before he falls to the ground.

Dead.

I hear a click of a cane and I whip my head around to face the one and only Dirtyhands.

"You know killing him was accepting my offer, right?"

"I know." I don't have to look at him to know a small smile that has become reversed for me, is sitting on his face.

Then I remember what he said to me when he first gave the offer. I turn to face him as I try to hide my smirk, and I look at him right in the eye.

"My Crow king."

And I turned and walk away.

*Flashback over*

"Well-" I start to say but I'm cut off from Jesper's very excited 'we're here!' Thank the saints though, because it gives me time to escape they're questions for now.

"You all know the plan."

Nina puts her hands on her hips. "Only the parts you deem important enough for us to know."

I nearly snort and a small smile grace's my lips. They really have no idea, well obviously some idea being that the ice court heist existed.

Kaz rolls his eyes and makes a go motion.

Inej goes to slip through the shadows but before she's totally gone I make eye contact with her before she leaves. It clearly says our conversation is not over and stay safe.

I suck in a breath, I always hate it when I have to say goodbye to anyone. Especially when that some person could die.

Running over to back of the warehouse, I pull my hood up trying to be the most concealed that I can be.

Wylan is going with Jesper to go make a distraction so they'll be going through the front doors. Nina will be going to go flirt to go get some extra info, perhaps steal some things on the way and wiggle her way into the top floor where the Dime Lions are. Matthias and Kaz will be going together with them posing as the warehouse-club guards. Inej will be going through the roof, while I'll be going through the back.

In the end everyone will get to the top floor so we can exterminate some Dime Lions, and get into the vault where a whole bunch of kruge is. Hopefully there will be enough so I can put my share's with Inej's so she can get that upgrade on her boat that she needs. It's not like I'm going to use the money to do anything useful, she deserved it and plus I intended to stay with this city.

I silently slide sneakily into the window, coming out of the other end with a knife in my hands. If I have learned one thing from living in Ketterdam, it's that you can never be too prepared.

I stay close to the wall as I see someone roll down the rope-ladder. I grin to myself,

Right on time Inej.

I climb up the ladder without fear of falling down even if the ladder was just made out of rope. I get to the top and Inej offers me a hand and I take it.

The top floor is basically empty except for some Dime Lions henchmen that are laying around, dead or knocked out.

Then, I guess there is also the vault full of kruge.

I look around the room everyone is here except for-

Kaz.

"Where's Kaz?"

Matthias looks a bit uncomfortable and guilty as he shifts nervously on his two feet.

"He said he had to take care of something and to just go."

I sigh, well I know he isn't in danger... Yet. My heart is screaming for me to go after him, but it wouldn't look good for Dirtyhands or Nemesis. Knowing Kaz he's probably fine, he would just want me to open this vault I guess.

The fact that my soulmate mark isn't burning is probably also a clear sign that he's fine.

Get yourself together Y/n.

"Can we open the vault without him?"

The others look mildly surprised at my response (excluding Nina, and my sister).

"You might be able to do it, your one of the best lock pickers there is. Only second to Brekker." Nina states.

I bit my lip and start to walk over to the vault. I let my hand fall over the lock. I let it feel the certain gears and the parts that make up the lock.

The shank of the lock would be easy enough to undo with some man strength to help pull that open. Though that would be the last step - I need to stop thinking too far ahead.

It's a very simple lock that any petty thief could probably do in 32 seconds flat. Besides the fact that it was absolutely ginormous to fit over a fucking vault.

"Inej I'm going to need some help!" I yell across the room to my sister who is in the shadows on a look out, to make sure no ones coming here.

She comes and strolls over to stand beside me. I put my hand up the lock, and I grab one bar and I move it to the side but I hold it there with my hands.

"Can you find the bar to the left and pull it up once?"

Inej does and I hear a huge click! ring through the room.

"We should wait for Kaz till we open it." Inej states and I nod my head in agreement.

"So while we wait." Nina start's talking... Oh no, that can't be good. "We should maybe share the fact that Y/n is Kaz's second hand!"

Angry courses of what! come throughout the room.

"The fuck does Kaz think with putting you in all that danger!" Jesper yells and I see Matthias nod along with him.

"I'm already in danger most of the times I'm Inej's sister!"

"You should have told us!" Nina shoots back.

"You guys are really talking about this while were on a heist!" I shoot back.

My soulmate mark starts to tingle a bit but I ignore it, being that this conversation will most likely take a lot of energy.

"It still puts you in unnecessary danger." Inej and Wylan point out.

Fury rakes through my body. Who are they to tell me that's it's 'dangerous'?! I live in fucking Ketterdam!

"I don't know if you haven't noticed, but I'm not a doll! I can take care of myself! And you can't say anything because 60% percent of you guys don't even fucki- Ahhh!" A string of curse leave my mouth as I collapse against the vault.

"Y/n!"

To be continued...

Words 2480

-thedelusionreaderbitch

Shadow and bone taglist: @kaqua @rika90 @thefandomplace

[chewiedon]

REGRET | TSUGIKUNI M.

the rq didn't go exactly how it was written, but I had no idea what they were supposed to talk about, taxes?

REQUEST: Y/N has been married to Michikatsu Tsugikuni for 5 years and has lived a happy life with her 2 children and husband. One day, her husband decides to leave all 3 of them behind to join the Demon Slayers, he deeply loved Y/N however his jealousy was far stronger, and thus 2 years pass. On a cold night Y/N sits at the top a cliff near her home, with her oldest child dead due to a monster that attacked their old home at night. She wonders how her husband is doing and amidst her thinking a demon approaches ready to attack. Michikatsu kills it and reveals that he had gone back just 2 months after to discover the house reeking of blood and both his wife and offspring missing, and that he had been searching for them. He offers Y/N his haori/kimono (??) in fear that she will grow cold and they just talk.

You and your family didn’t have much money, but you were happy nonetheless. Your husband was a hard worker that took care of his and yours child, everything was perfect. Another child was due in a few short months, and both you and your eldest were ecstatic. In your point of view, but there was a growing concern in your stomach that continued to plague you the growing days. Your husband, Michikatsu’s brows seemed more furrowed lately, and his training has been frighteningly more intense. At first you didn’t mind, you were glad he was improving on the things he was passionate about! Things only seemed to go downhill from there, to the point where he’d pass out for hours on end from exhausting himself too much.

The afternoon was surprisingly quiet, your toddler sat behind you while you folded clothes. You couldn’t help but eye your husband that laid on a futon that was in the other room. He ended up passing out again after training under the hot summer sun. Before you realized it, you were staring at his unconscious state. A gaze with increasing concern.

“Okaa-chan!” A squeaky voice interrupted your focus, “I’m hungry! Let’s have lunch soon!” The child that sat behind you tugged on the fabric of the kimono.

“Ah, I’m sorry, Yuki. I’ll get some lunch going for us then, what would you like to eat?” You smiled sweetly to the child, before quickly setting the sheet that was in your hands down onto the ground.

“Rice balls! Rice balls! Rice balls!” Yuki cheered behind you, dancing as she did so.

“Shhh, you don’t want to wake Otou-san do you? Let’s let him rest,” You reminded her with a sweet tone, your smile only grew as she put her hands over her mouth.

Soon, the afternoon had come to an end and the day had gotten darker that was accompanied by an evening chill. Yuki was munching on some leftover rice crackers that she had found, enjoying the evening before it got too cold on the engawa. Heavy but quiet footsteps were heard, turning around you were met with the intense eyes of your husband.

“Michikatsu, I’m glad you’re up now. I’ll get started on dinner soon,” You said, looking up to him with a gentle smile present on your face.

He gave you a small hum of agreement before watching you scurry off into the home, leaving him alone with Yuki. Unbeknownst to you, he had a massive burden on his shoulders that was eating at him. With a soft sigh, he took a look at his daughter who stared back at him with wide eyes.

“Yuki-chan, it’s time to come inside,” Michikatsu requested, his voice monotone and dull.

The girl let out a small hum before standing and dusting off her purple kimono, then heading inside, her father following behind the girl. You could be seen starting a fire on the clay furnace that was in the kitchen. The kitchen was hardly that though, it was a small room filled with wood and sticks and a furnace. You were spaced out while looking at the straw and wood that was burning, waiting for the water set above it to start boiling.

“(Y/N)?” A rough voice took your heads out of the clouds, turning your head to look over your shoulder meeting your husbands’ intense eyes once more. “Can I talk to you?” He added.

You let out a small hum, he squatted down to your height where you were crouched close to the floor. He grabbed your face, his fingers around your jawline which forced you to look at his face. You let out a small yelp of surprise when he yanked your face closer to his, the tips of your noses mere millimeters from touching.

“I have to talk to you, it’s important.” Michikatsu said, his voice strict and filled with reason. You couldn’t do anything but clench your jaw in anticipation.

Putting your hand around his wrist to support your weight, “What is it, is something wrong?”

“No, I’m going to leave soon. Final selection is going to start the day after tomorrow. I need to surpass my brother and join the Demon Slayer Corps.” His voice wasn’t as monotone, but took a more serious approach.

You let out a small hum, your brows furrowed in frustration. “So… You’re going to leave?” It was more of a rhetorical question, because you already knew the answer.

“Yes,” His voice and expression were unwavering as he stared deep into your eyes.

“Tomorrow?” You whispered with caution, you couldn’t deny the frustration that was bubbling inside your stomach.

He nodded, and you hummed back. His grip on your jaw loosened allowing you to move and continue with what you were doing before, your husband was leaving. You didn’t want to try and stop him, you respected his wishes to leave and the last thing you wanted to do was hold him back. But… What about you? You had Yuki to take care of and you lived about an hours’ walk away from the closest village. Not to mention you were 3 months expecting another one of Michikatsu’s children. The extra workload seemed stressful, but you should be able to adjust smoothly. Demon slayers make good money if you can do it right, but money shouldn’t come at the risk of your husband's life. Not that he was doing this for money, he was doing it so he could surpass his brother, you decided to respect his wishes. You kept quiet and served him and Yuki dinner, and Michikatsu told the petite girl while she chewed on her wooden spoon.

“Eh? Go away? Where? How long?” Her eyebrow creased, tears swelling in her eyes. Yuki then started to sniffle and rubbed her eyes before her father could answer her, “I don’t want you to leave! It’s no fair!” She claimed.

“I don’t know how long it will be, but I promise to visit when I can. This is really important to me, Yuki.” He paused and waited until Yuki looked at him, “I need you to take care of your mom for me? Can I count on you?”

“Yeah… Yeah,” She was still a sobbing mess, all you could do was smile at the two.

But, why now? Why not a week prior so he could help prepare for you and your daughter instead of just leaving you high and dry. You knew as his wife it was your duty to support him, but you couldn’t help but feel a little negative.

And you had every right to.

How long ago was that? One, maybe two years ago?

You depended on Michikatsu to protect you if something like this were to happen, even though he had no way of doing so. How would he know this would happen? It’s not his fault… So why when your life flashed before your eyes you held on to your vision of Michikatsu.

There was blood, so much blood. You woke up to the blood curdling scream of your eldest daughter, a demon had sunk its teeth into her neck. You shook, and you ran. You grabbed your youngest who cried in fear from the fresh blood of his sister that was on your face.

“Hah? You think you’re going somewhere?!” It sneered at you, dropping Yuki’s lifeless body on the floor as if she was some kind of dog toy. You had your son tucked into your chest and ran as fast as your legs could manage, this unknown adrenaline kicking into your body. It only lasted so long, tripping over a larger rock and falling on your side. You felt a searing tear of the flesh in your leg, the burning sensation of the skin being ripped open. You screamed, hoping some Godsend creature would come and rescue you. Another rush of adrenaline had kicked in as you kicked the monster away with all your might, and the chase had begun once again. You forced your legs to move, you subsided all pain and resisted the urge to limp. Tears made way to your face as you had begun to cry out of fear that this demon would end up taking you and your sons’ life away. Running through the woods, no shoes or socks, you prayed. You prayed for your husband to come back before you died, you’d do anything to see his intense eyes again.

Michikatsu, why did he have to leave? No, it’s not his fault because he didn’t want to live his life in a small shack that stunk of breastmilk. He wanted to live his life. You can respect that, but not now. Your lungs began to become sore, and every part of your body felt like it was on fire. How long have you been running? Is the demon still behind you? You knew if you slowed down or stopped running you probably wouldn’t be able to start running again, you were finally out of the woods and into a big clearing. Long grass that was up to your hips bathed your figure. Your legs went from a sprint to a walk, then crashing onto the floor. Your child’s cries rang in your ears as you tried to soothe it between heavy breaths, you laid on the ground with him in your arms trying to muffle his cries with your chest. You couldn’t hear anything but the now muffled and softer cries of the child, and your own heavy breaths. Your lungs were still on fire, and your body fell completely limp. Your eyelids were beyond heavy, the stinging in your leg pulsing with more pain by the second. Your entire being was numbed from the exhaustion.

Everything was hopeless at this point, you were going to die here from blood loss or that demon is going to come and kill you both. You couldn’t go and get help, and your son was way too young to do anything like that safely.

“(Y/N)?! (Y/N)!” At this point you refused to believe your ears, you lifted your head above the grass to see a tall figure yelling out your name.

Hope swelled in your chest, as you began to recognize that tone more and more. He came. He came back. Michikatsu came back!

“Michi-” You weren’t able to speak or move as a pulse of pain spread throughout your entire body.

“(Y/N), (Y/N)! Where are you?” You raised your hand, it shook in the air as your husband ran to your limp body.

The first thing he did was hold your face to his, touching his cheeks to yours making sure you were real. He held you tightly, but not enough to hurt you.

“Is he okay? Where’s Yuki?” He lifted his head as if to look around you for the small girl.

Grief swelled in your chest, “Gone, the demon got her… I’m so sorry.” Was all you could manage to say, warm tears made their way freely down your cheeks. You whispered bitter apologies over and over to him.

He hummed, stroking the side of your face, “It’s okay, you’re alright and that’s all we need,”

He wrapped his haori around your shoulders once he noticed your shaking. Burying the remains of your eldest daughter was hard, but the hardest part was cleaning out her room where her blood stained the wooden floors. Michikatsu stayed and soothed you the entire time you were crying as you scrubbed her liquids out of the wood. He didn’t know what to do except pat your back and tell you it was going to be okay.

And that’s all you really needed.

[whatareyousearchingfordean]

Come As You Are

Summary: Dean takes Y/n dress shopping for a hunt, both of them blissfully unaware of where it will lead. 

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus Size Reader

Word Count: 3.9K+

Warnings: Language, self-esteem and body image struggles, public intercourse, unprotected intercourse (wrap it before you tap it)

Author’s Note: This was written for an anonymous request, 

“Hey babe I don’t know if your taking requests but I had a groovy idea dean x shy plus reader where they have to get the reader nice sexy clothes but she feels really uncomfortable in them and refuses to leave the dressing room and dean confess how he feels and they have sex in the dressing room ? Fluff and smut” 

I truly enjoyed writing it so I hope it lives up to your expectations anon. Remember, feedback is like crack to writers, and we always love to hear what you thought xoxo Alex

Consider checking out a book from Alexandra’s Library!

A frown etched itself on her face as she ran her hand over the fabrics hanging from the racks. All of it felt foreign underneath her fingertips. Satin, chiffon, and everything else that was far more expensive than she was used to. Y/n’s wardrobe mostly consisted of denim and polyester blends that tended to fray after two washes. It was all that a hunter could afford, after all. 

“How in the hell are we gonna afford any of this crap?” She whispered to Dean, who was eyeing the rack behind her, the gowns in front of him all a deep shade of red. 

“Charlie’s miracle card, remember? There is no limit,” Dean raised his brow at her, a grin etched across his perfect face. 

“Fine,” she groaned. “I still don’t see why I even need to go dress shopping, I’m sure I could find something in my closet.” 

“I’ve seen your closet, and none of it is right for this case. You’ve got to distract the coroner for the night and you can’t do that in baggy jeans and flannel.” Dean huffed as he picked a dress off the rack. Y/n’s eyes went wide as she took it in, the hem was short for anyone’s standards, then add in the plunging neckline and this dress left nothing to the imagination. 

“That is so not happening,” Y/n pointed at the offensive garment, her stomach fluttering at the simple idea of even trying to slip into it. Every spot on her body that she hated would be on full display in that thing. Her thick thighs, the roll that sat on her bra just under her arms, and don’t get her started on her abdomen. 

“Come on, just try it. You never know ‘till you try it on.” 

“Ugh,” Y/n snatched the dress from his hand before stalking off to look at more dresses. There were a couple more options that she grabbed to try on that were closer to her comfortability level. Under normal circumstances, she wouldn’t be caught dead in any of the items in her arms. But Dean had this way about him, always able to convince her to do anything without question. Maybe it was the way his skin crinkled around his eyes or the brightness that always seemed to live behind those deliciously green eyes? Who was she kidding, it was all of that and then some. The huntress had fallen hard for him from that first meeting. Sometimes she wondered why she chose to torture herself. 

Dean Winchester was the cream of the crop when it came to hunters, as was his baby brother, Sam. The whole world knew who they were, including heaven and hell, so how could she be expected to resist him when he smiled at her the way he does. Or even when he made her coffee in the mornings just how she liked it and picked up chocolate and pain killers for her when he knew it was that time of the month. He was exceedingly attentive to her, something that she was sure he only directed at Sam. It was just another thing that surprised her about the legend of a man. 

Yeah, like an idiot she fell for the eldest Winchester. There was no stopping it even though she was certain that her feelings would never be reciprocated. Y/n wasn’t like the other woman that Dean went for when he was on the prowl at bars. It’s not that she was ugly, it was that she was plain at best. People didn’t turn their heads when she walked in the room, men’s gazes didn’t linger on her from across the bar, no, Y/n was merely average. That’s how she knew that Dean would never see her as more than a friend because he had never looked at her in any form of want. 

“Are you ready to try those on?” A sales woman’s voice broke her out of her unrelenting train of thought. Dean answered for her before she could process the woman’s words. 

“Yes, please.” He smiled brightly and Y/n watched as the woman’s face flushed under his gaze. Y/n almost felt bad for the woman who was now just another victim to his charm. The saleswoman at least would be able to relish in his attention, wondering about what could have been had Y/n not been there with him. Y/n on the other hand already knew her fate. But mostly, if she was being honest, she was jealous. 

Dean put his hands on her shoulders and guided her along behind the boutique worker who took them into the back of the store where the dressing rooms were located. The area was mostly quiet, just the music from the speakers could be heard in the space. Three large mirrors sat in front of a stage on the far wall, the rooms spaning out on either side of it. In the center of the room were three plush chairs for those waiting for others to sit in. 

The worker unlocked a door for her as Dean plopped down in one of the chairs. Y/n slipped behind the door, letting out a deep breath as it closed behind her. If there was one thing she hated it was trying on clothes. Nothing ever seemed to fit her right or look anything like what it did on the hanger. It made the task a constant battle with her self-consciousness. 

Y/n had always carried extra weight on her body. It wasn’t that she didn’t live an active lifestyle, she was a hunter, after all, it was the diet that hunters were accustomed to. It was fast food and dives in every small town in America. Not many mom and pop places tended to offer an egg white omelet, and it wasn’t her inclination to eat them either. So, she had always been bigger than most, and if she was being honest she had grown used to that. Maybe she used it as a shield to protect herself. Making connections with people as a hunter only tended to end in heartbreak, so this was easier. 

The hunter hid the scary red thing Dean had selected behind all the rest of her haul, hoping she would find something before she ever even got to the thing. Y/n stripped from her flannel and jeans tossing them on the bench in the corner. She also added her bra to the pile, knowing all of these garments necessitated that she did not wear one. That left her in her favorite pair of panties. They weren’t anything special, but they made her butt looked its best.

The first dress in the line up was a straight black dress that hit just above her knee. The neckline wasn’t anything too crazy but the sleeves rolled off the shoulders a strip of fabric wrapping around her bust. Y/n was able to slip it on and tug up the zipper on the side. With a slide of her hands against the fabric, she frowned at her reflection. Not that it would flatter any figure, in her opinion. 

“What’s taking so long in there?” Dean called out from his spot in front of the mirrors.

“I’m not coming out in this thing,” she called back as she began to take the dress back off. 

“Oh, come on sweetheart,” 

“Nope, next,” Y/n heard him huff even through the door and she imagined he rolled his eyes as well. 

The next dress was a deep blue color. It had a wrap and pencil skirt, with an asymmetrical shape between the hem and the neckline. She supposed it was pretty but it also kind of looked like she had wrapped herself in a towel. Mostly, she felt like the point in the neckline was going to stab her in the throat, and she was not sure how to be sexy when she was trying not to die. It was another pass for her. 

There was only one dress left, and at that moment she was wishing to whoever was listening that she had picked out a few more choices. Dean was whistling now, some Zeppelin tune she couldn’t exactly identify and she knew he was getting impatient. Y/n swapped the fabrics on her body, pulling the thin straps of the red satin piece up onto her shoulders. The dress clung to her skin, the fabric lightweight. 

“Y/n/n,” Dean’s voice was just outside the door, the new proximity of it startling her. “Come on, you have to show me at least one. I know you and you’ll just try vetoing them all.” Y/n swore under her breath because he was right and it pissed her off that he knew her that well. The zipper was out of her reach on her back and she supposed she wouldn’t be able to truly see what it looked like on her unless she zipped it up. 

“Fine, I need help with this zipper anyway,” she sighed and held the fabric against her naked chest while opening the door with her other. Dean was beaming when he came into view on the other side of the door. He snuck inside faster than a flea, the slamming of the door startling her again. 

Get it together woman, you kill monsters for a living, Y/n cursed herself. 

“Turn,” Dean instructed her with his fingers, and the woman obliged as she faced the mirror. Dean brushed her hair off her shoulder with his fingertips, the action barely distinguishable but it sent the hairs on the back of her neck standing to attention. With one hand holding the bottom stop, he used the other to tug on the pull tab, sliding together the teeth in one fluid motion. 

“Thanks,” Y/n’s words were soft as she made eye contact with the green-eyed hunter in the mirror. He ran his tongue of his bottom lip, pulling the plump flesh between his teeth as his eyes wandered over her exposed skin. 

Y/n visibly cringed as she looked at herself. Unfortunately, this was her favorite out of the three, but that didn’t mean she felt like she could venture anywhere in public in the thing. “Sweetheart, if that coroner hadn’t already been eyeing you up today, he would not know where to start when he sees you in this.” 

“Shut up,” Y/n scrunched her nose as she spun around to whack Dean’s shoulder. “You are so full of it.”

“Am not,” Dean scoffed, his eye softening before he continued. “Y/n, why don’t you see how beautiful you are?”

Y/n whipped around to stare at him, her arms crossing over her chest, not believing that those words come out of his mouth. Surely, he was playing with her…

“Have you looked at me, Dean?” Y/n slapped her hands against her thighs, emphasizing their jiggle upon impact. “I’m nothing special.” 

“I have looked at you,” His gaze traveled down her body again, his breath hitching slightly as he did so. “I’ve been looking at you for a while now.” The drop in Dean’s voice sent heat rushing through her body, the gravel undertone making her shiver. 

“Dean--” words escaped her as the hunter stepped into her personal space, pushing her back against the mirror. Dean’s left hand came to rest against the reflective surface just beside her head as he chewed on his lip. 

“I don’t think you know how hard it is for me to keep my eyes off of you,” he leaned into her, his nose brushing alongside hers. “And now, seeing you in this dress, I’m not sure I’ll be able to keep my hands off you.” 

A rush of confidence coursed through her blood as his hot breath fanned over her face and Y/n slipped her hands behind his neck, pulling his lips down to meet hers. The movement was anything but smooth, though the action sent both of the hunters into action. Dean growled as he nipped her lower lip and she opened up to him, allowing his tongue to invade her mouth. 

A moan involuntarily came from her as his hands moved to her hips, the heat of his skin seeping through the thin material where his finger pressed into her flesh. He stepped back, pulling her after him as he backed up and dropped to sit on the plush bench. Dean bunched up the material to her hips as he urged her to straddle his lap. Y/n used her hands on his shoulders to steady herself, the new bulge in his pants a surprise to her as she settled in his lap. 

“Yeah, and you thought I was kidding,” Dean took in the slight rise in her brow, leaning forward to run his lips across her jaw, taking note of the places that made her shiver. Her eyes were squeezed shut as she allowed Dean to explore her body and let herself just feel him. Dean raked his teeth along with the shell of her ear, causing her to buck her hips and both of them to groan.  

“Fuck,” her words were a breath on her lips as she repeated the action, the roughness of his jeans just enough friction on her aching sex. 

“That’s it, beautiful, take what you need,” Dean sat back and used his hands to keep her body moving against his own, watching the way her brows scrunched together in the center of her forehead. With a shift of his hips, he had her pushed back and straddling his left thigh, his hands still in their place on her hips. “Can you come like this, sweetheart?”

“I don’t--” a jolt of electricity had her halting her denial, instead she chose to just nod and place her hands against his chest to balance her movement. She could feel Dean’s heart hammering in his chest under her palm and the quick rise and fall of his breath. Even at this moment, she was disbelieving that he was that turned on watching her get herself off on his thigh, but she had the proof hammering under her fingertips. Y/n was biting her lip to keep quiet in the small room. “Dean, I’m so close.” 

“I’ve got you, come for me, Y/n,” he husked as his grip tightened, though she wasn’t sure how that was even possible, seeing as there was already gonna be bruises there later, that she was sure of. The sound of his voice reverberating in her head had the coil snapping inside of her, heat flooding her body as every nerve sparked and faded out. A rush of air left her lungs, her body slumping as her muscles relaxed post-orgasm. 

“Oh my god.” As her arousal ebbed from her body and the reality of what just happened came to her sense, Y/n clammed up and she tried to climb from his lap. Blood rushed to her face and her hands flew to her cheeks to hide the heat settling there.

“Woah, where are you going?” Dean stopped her from making a hasty exit, his eyes searching hers in question. 

“Dean, what the hell just happened?” 

A smirk replaced the confusion on his face as he leaned forward and nuzzled his face in her neck, tracing his tongue up her pulse. “You just got yourself off on my thigh while I tried not to cream my jeans,” he breathed in her ear. It was like he already knew every button to push on her body, his dirty talk doing everything she needed it to for her body to already be aching for him again. 

“I--”

“Shh, sweetheart. That was hot as fuck, and all I want now is to be buried deep inside that pretty pussy of yours.” 

“Jesus,” her eyes shifted to his, taking in the mischievous glint shining behind his iris. “You aren’t kidding.”

“Nope,” he popped the ‘p’ at the end of his word and Y/n nodded as she climbed off him. She turned her back to him so he could undo the zipper, and it took a second for Dean to catch on to her silent action. He jumped to the edge of the bench and tugged down the zipper before sliding the material down her shoulders. Dean hooked his fingers into the edge of her panties, placing a kiss on the dip in her lower back before pulling the soaked material to pool at her feet along with the dress. He stood then as she turned back to him and pushed his jacket and flannel down his arms, adding it to the pile of discarded clothes in the room. 

“Come, on we don’t have a lot of time before someone gets suspicious.” There was a quiver in her voice as she lifted the hem of his tee and tugged open his belt. It was taking everything in her to quell the shaking in her hands. Dean’s fingers came down to wrap around her wrists, halting her movement and she looked up at him. 

“Y/n we don’t have to,” he was trying to read her mind as he examined her face. The trepidation was seeping through her pores, but not because she didn’t want this. Hell, the painful ache between her legs told her how much she wanted this, but her brain couldn’t help to race through the million thoughts about what it all meant. 

“No, I-- God do I want this,” Y/n began chewing on the inside of her cheek as she tried to come up with the words to explain to him what she was thinking. But the longer the time passed the more nervous she grew, standing there stark naked and he’s still basically fully dressed. “I think I’ve wanted this for a long time now, but I’m just scared.”

“Of?” He urged her to continue.

“That this doesn’t mean the same thing to you,” Y/n cast her glance down, her eyes fixated on the way the fluorescent light glinted in the metal of his belt. 

“You think that this is about getting my dick wet for me.” It wasn’t a question, because she had all but spelled it out for him. “Y/n,” He put his fingers under her chin and turned her head back up to his, brushing his lips against hers, the action soft and unhurried. “I told you, I’ve been watching you for a while now, trying to learn everything I could about you. I would have done this the first night I met you if I hadn’t thought about what it would do to you. But I’m done being scared because I think I fell for you a long time ago and no amount of whiskey or other women could make me forget that. So I’m done fighting it.” 

“Yeah?” Her eyes were swimming with unshed tears now, and Dean answered her with another kiss, pulling her body flush against his own as he invaded her mouth. The pair only pulled apart when they could no longer fight the need for air. “Dean--”

“Yeah,” he breathed, dropping his grip on her to finish what she started with his belt. Y/n watched his movements, her breath getting caught in her throat as she watched him pull his length from its cotton confines. Dean signaled for her to turn with one hand as he stroked himself with the other. She obliged, of course, and Dean pushed her gently between her shoulder blades until her hands were pressed against the mirror. He nudged her legs to open a tad wider, meeting her gaze in the mirror. 

“Do we--” 

“I’m good if you’re good,” she told him, knowing where he was going with his question. He nodded to her before lining himself up with her entrance. Dean held her gaze as he entered her from behind, both of them sighing together as he became fully seated. Y/n closed her eyes as she tried to compose herself, her head falling between her arms. 

“Fuck, open your eyes, look at yourself,” Dean was biting his tongue as he swatted her ass to get her to lift her head again. She indulged him, looking at herself in the mirror before turning her eyes back to his in the mirror. “There you go,” he praised her, the words like music to her ears as he pulled back out and slammed into her hips. 

Dean set up a steady rhythm, careful to not shake the walls of the dressing too much with his movement. The couple kept their eyes on each other in the mirror, the moment the most erotic thing she could ever remember doing, but for the life of her, she couldn’t be bothered by it. Even from her vantage point, she could see how blown his pupils were, the black of his iris’ all but drowning out the green that she loved so much. To be honest, she wasn’t sure which she liked more now. All she did know was the feeling of him moving inside her and the way her muscles were shaking. 

A small knock had Dean stilling his movements, and Y/n stood up, pressing her back against his chest. He slipped an arm around her chest as she signaled for him to be silent. “You doing alright in there?” 

Y/n swallowed the lump in her throat and let out a breath, “Yeah,” she called back, afraid her voice would be too wrecked if she said anything else. 

“Is there anything else I can get you? Maybe some different sizes?” The saleswoman tried again. 

“Nope, I’m all set, thank you.” 

“Okay, just let me know.” The sound of her footsteps could be heard retreating from the dressing room, and Dean pressed his face into her neck, the pair of them chuckling. 

“Come on, sweetheart,” he adjusted their position, resuming the movement of his hips as he snaked his free hand down to rub against her clit. Y/n jolted in his arms at the contact, this time closing her eyes as he built her back up. “I’m right behind you. Can you come for me again?” Y/n nodded against him, her hands flying to his forearm as she felt herself jumping over the cliff, her mouth open in a silent scream. Her knees buckled and Dean had to adjust himself to keep her from falling, still fucking her from behind as her fluttering walls milked him to his own orgasm. He bit into her shoulder to keep himself from groaning out loud. 

“Sweet Jesus,” her body went limp in his arms as the pair of them caught their breath in the now muggy space. 

“Yeah, you are so not going out with that coroner tonight. We will find a different way.” Dean admitted as he pulled his now softening cock from her. Y/n flinched at the feeling and the subsequent rush of his release inside her. 

“What?” She turned to him as he began righting himself, not understanding why he didn’t want her to do her job.

“‘Cause you are all mine now,” Dean tugged her into his chest, his fingers around one of her biceps. “And I want to spend all night making sure you can’t walk tomorrow.” 

“Oh,” Dean laughed as she blinked at him, clearly lost for any sort of coherent answer to what he just told her. 

“Get dressed so we can get out of here and kick Sammy out of our motel room.” Dean tapped her ass again and she pushed him away from her, a stupid grin on both of their faces.

Forevers: @22sarah08​ @akshi8278​ @anathewierdo​ @atc74​ @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce​​ @callmekda​ @dawnie1988​ @deanwanddamons​ @ellewritesfix05​ @emoryhemsworth​ @flamencodiva​​ @foxyjwls007​ @hobby27​ @janicho88​ @jensengirl83​ @katehuntington​ @lyarr24​ @malfoysqueen14​ @mrsjenniferwinchester​ @msmarvelouswinchester​ @polina-93​​ @sleepylunarwolf​ @stiles-stilinski-24-dylan​ @smol-and-grumpy​ @superfanficnatural​ @supraveng​ @talesmaniac89​ @tranquility-or-chaos​​ @waywardbeanie​ @winchest09​

[calaofnoldor]

Dean, Don’t

Characters: Sam x F!Reader, Dean

Words: 1,906

Summary: You’re heavily pregnant and highly irritable. Luckily, Sam Winchester is the sweetest moose to ever moose.

Warnings: pregnancy (and all its related symptoms), ill-fated attempt at humor, disgustingly sweet fluff (seriously, you’re gonna need a tooth brush)

A/N: this might be my first ever attempt at this genre, so please don’t judge me too harshly :)

MASTERLIST

“Wow… geez, you look ready to-“

“Dean,” Sam shot his brother a warning glance as he guided you into the kitchen, a giant palm held gently against your aching lower back, “Don’t.”

Dean quickly raised his hands and the gesture, together with his wide eyes, seemed to say ‘I wasn’t gonna say anything!’, although you knew that was far from the truth. In fact, you knew exactly what he was thinking because you’d been thinking it too – every hour of every day. It was safe to say you really didn’t need any reminders of your current condition.

“Y/N’s already having a rough time with the twins keeping her up all night, and she’s been extra sore lately,” your moose came to your rescue as always. Sam had been doing that a lot recently, not only by shielding you from Dean’s crude comments (and consequently protecting Dean from your wrath as well), but also by comforting and distracting you from the woes of your third trimester.

“Well at least it’ll be over soon, right?” Dean tried again.

“Not soon enough,” you grumbled in reply, before attempting to stretch out your spine with an unfiltered groan of discomfort.

“Aaand, that’s my cue to leave!” Dean announced, grabbing his plate of bacon to go and sauntering off, though not before sending his little brother an exaggerated ‘good-luck-with-that’ expression.

Sam rolled his eyes despite feeling somewhat relieved by his brother’s departure, then turned back to you. “Come on, baby. Let’s get you off your feet.” He wore a sweet sympathetic smile; it was one he had been donning often as of late, but it only worsened your mood.

“Sam, I’m fine. I can’t be constantly sitting or lying down!” You barked irritably, but when you noticed the sad puppy dog look on your boyfriend’s face, your attitude instantly withered.

“Look, I’m sorry. I just hate this so much.” Your fingers began to massage your temples as your mouth continued to utter the words that took you beyond the point of no return, “I’m a hunter, you know? I’m supposed to be able to take down monsters with the swing of my machete! I used to be able to roundhouse kick those inhuman bastards when I wanted to, and now I can’t even put my own socks on!” That much was true. Sam had helped you with your socks earlier that morning.

“And sometimes you being so overprotective only makes me feel more useless,” you added with a defeated huff.

Sam waited patiently until he was certain your little tirade was over. “I know exactly what you’re capable of, Y/N; you never have to remind me. And I can guarantee that you will still be able to do all those things… after you’ve given birth to our beautiful babies, and your body recovers from this drastic change it’s endured.”

He moved closer to you and extended one hand to caress the side of your face, while the other splayed across your immensely swollen stomach. “But baby, right now, at 39 weeks pregnant with twins, you’re not supposed to be able to do all that. I wouldn’t want you to be doing all that,” he chuckled lightly with the afterthought as he pictured your heavily expectant form attempting one of your famous round house kicks.

You raised a brow at him, knowing how his mind worked, and he immediately sobered, “Y/N, my point is you don’t realize how incredibly strong you are already, even without all the pregnant kung fu fighting you seem to be so keen on.”

Although you were tempted to roll your eyes at his teasing, the boyish grin he cast you couldn’t be resisted, and the corners of your lips begrudgingly lifted. But a sudden lurch in your belly wiped the smile promptly from your features.

“Oh,” you breathed in a gasp, placing your hands upon the area of assault.

“What? What is it?” Sam questioned worriedly, as he too moved both his hands to your baby bump. His eyes flickered frantically between your face and stomach, trying to read the situation for himself.

“Nothing, just a really strong kick, I think,” was your reply after a pause. You looked up at him with what you hoped was a reassuring smile. He returned it with a certain tinge of apprehension, so you grabbed his hand and placed it where one of your wayward twins was moving erratically within you.

No matter how many times Sam felt it, he couldn’t help but beam with pride and elation at the thought of his children growing stronger each day, and the fact that you were the one fostering their development made him truly believe he was the luckiest man alive in that moment.

“Wow, I guess they’re really ready to come out, huh?”

“Maybe,” you mused, “Or maybe they’ll choose to torture me for another week. I’m not getting my hopes up.”

Still fondling your belly with one hand, Sam used his other to turn your face towards his. “I am really sorry that you’re hurting. I wish I could make it stop.” He said it with such sincerity, you were almost inclined to forgive him. Almost.

“I would say ‘it’s not your fault’, but it kinda is,” came your playful response, which happily earned you a loving kiss.

When his lips left yours, you continued, “Also, as if the fact that two of your swimmers managed to make it to my eggs wasn’t enough, did you really have to make both of them Winchester-sized too?” You motioned vaguely to the wide expanse of your front side.

Sam said nothing, but rewarded you with a hearty laugh and a second kiss.

Later that day, as you sat snuggled between Sam’s lengthy and outstretched limbs on the bed, the two of you absent-mindedly watched an old classic movie play out on the television. His lips grazed your hairline every few minutes and his hands rubbed incessant circles on your extended stomach.

“How do you know our babies will be beautiful?” You questioned Sam abruptly, your eyes never leaving the screen.

His chest rumbled with a deep chortle that resonated through your back and caused you to smile in turn. “Well, they’ve got you for a mother, don’t they?”

“Psh! You forgot to mention that they’ve also got a father who looks like he was sculpted by the Greek gods! But that’s not the point; genetics is based on chance.” You craned your neck to look him in the eyes.

“Fine. I just have a feeling then, OK?” Sam shut you up with a quick kiss to the lips and you of course assented.

“Do you still think they’re going to be girls?”

“I hope so,” he replied with a pensive smile.

You studied his elegant features for a minute before feeling a smirk form on your own face. “Well too bad, they’re both boys.”

“What? How do you know?” Sam’s brow furrowed in that way you always thought made him look unbelievably adorable, especially for a man of his stature.

“I just have a feeling, OK?” You quoted back at him. “They call it mother’s intuition.”

Sam’s grin returned and you couldn’t remember feeling better in the past month. Dean hadn’t disturbed you all day since the incident in the kitchen, and the support of Sam’s solid torso pressed against your back seemed to be alleviating some of the strain from your body.

But alas, nothing is ever what it seems when you’re living with the Winchesters. A sudden splash of fluid upon the sheets interrupted your scarce and apparently fleeting moment of peace.

It took you a moment to register the wetness between your legs, although Sam was already one step ahead of you. “DEAN!” he hollered towards the hall.

“Sam, I think my water just broke,” you told him in a slight trance.

“Yeah, I know, baby. Come on, let’s get you cleaned up and changed.” Sam’s voice was soothing and you began to follow his lead, slowly rising to your feet as he supported you from behind.

Just then, Dean came barreling in, brandishing his gun as his eyes searched frantically for any potential sources of peril. His green gaze turned befuddled upon finding no clear cause for distress.

“Dean, go get the Impala ready. Y/N’s in labor.” Sam’s voice held that composed and assertive edge which it often did when he took the lead on hunts. You would have found it awfully attractive under different circumstances.

As it were, a fresh contraction tore through you when you reached the dresser, and you were forced to bend over to weather the impact, your breathing becoming a little uneven. Sam’s arms were instantly around you, while the sight of your hunched and gravid form awoke Dean from his stupor.

He cleared his throat and his voice seemed a little gruffer than usual, “Uh, OK. Right. So… the bags? What do I need?”

“I’ll get the bags. Just get the damn car ready, Dean.”

Still the older Winchester stood transfixed in his spot, his eyes were somewhat unfocused. “Wow. So this is really happening…”

“Dean!”

“Yeah! On it! Got it! Uh… fight the fairies, Y/N! We got this.” And with that, he finally took off for the garage.

You couldn’t help but giggle to yourself, “He’s right, you know? This is really happening.”

Sam turned around and held your gaze with such reverence and fondness, you nearly melted right then. “I know,” he stated simply, before he crashed his lips to yours in a rushed yet zealous smooch.

“Ow! Yeah, OK, I think the twins are sick of our antics already,” you gushed through gritted teeth as another tightening of your middle took over.

Sam cupped your stomach gingerly on either side, as if he could somehow abate the pain with his touch. “Right, let’s hurry it up then. I think all that soreness you felt before and the twins’ heightened movement might’ve been a sign of early labor.”

“You’re such a nerd, you know that?”

He only responded with knowing smirk, then continued to help you get changed so he could usher you out the door.

Dean met you outside, where he stood by the shiny black car, looking a little more prepared for action than earlier. “You guys good?”

“Yeah, are you?” Sam asked, a bit dubiously.

“Hey, I’m ready to get this show on the road!”

“Am I gonna fit?” You eyed the Impala with slight apprehension. You had always been a fan of the classic car before, but now that Sam had fertilized you so thoroughly, the backseat seemed a lot more daunting.

“Of course, my girl can handle anything. She’ll get you to the hospital in no time so that you can have my nieces.”

“Nephews,” you corrected, but nodded anyway and allowed Sam to help you inside the vehicle.

The boys stood outside for a moment longer. “You alright, Sammy?”

Sam was glowing and Dean couldn’t have repressed the surge of love and pride that rose within him if he tried, despite his ‘no chick flick moments’ rule.

“Yeah, I’ve never been better, Dean.”

“Speak for yourself, asshole!” You would later blame the contraction for your foul language, but it was your shouting through the window that ultimately got you on the road.

“Yeah alright, we’re going! Just don’t be having any babies in my Baby!”

“Dean,” Sam’s bitch face revealed itself once more, “Don’t.”

→ CARRY ON

A/N #2: thank you so much for reading! btw, if any of you sam girls wanna show off your love for the giant adorkable moose man, there’s a ‘sammy the moose’ print now available at lexicolor.redbubble.com!

also available in various styles, as well as on mugs, notebooks, phone cases, and a bunch of other stuff! and if you’re more of a dean girl, i got you covered too 😉❤️

[willowbird]

HEY for the prompt game: au 7, trope 3 (i love chaos), and very specific location 2? i'll leave the pairing up to your whimsy i just saw the combination of au and trope and HAD to request it lmao

Foxes as kids, foxes WITH kids, INSIDE ANDREW'S CLOSET.

Guys guys guys there were SO MANY WAYS I wanted to do this that my brain kinda exploded for a moment before I decided to go this route. Hope you enjoy!

---

"Oh no oh no oh no oh no!!!!!”

Andrew looked up at the ceiling, where the small, modern chandelier above the kitchen island swung in time with the distressed shouts and several ominous thumps. He looked over to where his husband was flipping pancakes and rose a single brow in question.

Neil shrugged, as if to say 'How should I know?'

A brief staring contest ensued, continued chaos still racketing upstairs. Finally, Andrew lifted one hand and curled it into a fist. Neil lifted his own, and after a brief round of rock-paper-scissors Andrew sighed to his loss and pushed away from the counter.

Neil caught the edge of his shirt as he passed him, tugging him in for a quick kiss. "I'll put extra chocolate chips in the pancakes."

"Bribery is unnecessary when you won fair and square," Andrew grumbled back.

Neil raised his eyebrows. "You turning down more chocolate? I mean okay, if you're-"

Andrew cut him off with a kiss. "Too late to take it back." Then he turned and headed out of the kitchen, only to be nearly mowed down by a wide-eyed eight-year-old.

"Watch yourself there, Kev," Andrew cautioned as he prevented the gangly child from sending them both to the ground.

The kid's big bottle-green eyes were wide with alarm. "Dad! He's going bonkers! I dunno what's wrong with him." He wrinkled his nose. "Well, there is a lot wrong with him. But I mean I don't know what's wrong with him today."

Andrew sighed, more because he was pretty sure he did know what was going rather than because he didn't. It was honestly better if Kevin just thought his brother was being weirder than usual for as long as possible. He had a feeling that if Kevin could get any leverage on his spazzy older brother he'd turn into even more of a terror than he already was.

Andrew ruffled his younger son's hair and gave him a nudge. "I'll check on him. Go help your dad with breakfast."

Kevin perked up. "Pancakes?"

"Pancakes," Andrew confirmed with a solemn nod.

"Do you think dad'll make one in the silhouette of a dead French guy?!”

"If you ask him, maybe."

That's all it took, and the kid was taking off like a shot again. Andrew watched him go, grimacing at the thought that they would probably have to enroll him in sports this year if only to help him burn off all that damned energy. He was just as bad as Neil.

A scampering upstairs followed by the slam of a door drew Andrew's attention back to matter at hand. The slammed door did not come from either of the boys' rooms, but rather the opposite end of the hall, where Neil and Andrew's room was. In all, this wasn't all that surprising - at least not when it came to his fourteen-year-old. He'd been hiding in Andrew and Neil's closet whenever he got particularly upset since he was four and Neil had performed a "magic ritual" to make the closet a "bunker against all evil".

Andrew climbed the steps and made his way down the hall, stopping once he came to the closed closet door. From inside he could hear the muffled mutterings of an anxious teenager. He lifted a hand and knocked with just two knuckles.

When there was no answer, he knocked again and asked, voice mild, "Can I come in?"

Then he waited, giving his son time to process that he was here for him, whatever the issue was. Almost a full minute passed before a tight, watery voice said, "Y-you can come in."

Permission granted, Andrew swung open the door to find Nicky curled up in the corner, cheeks flushed and brown eyes full of tears. Nicky was technically Andrew's much younger cousin on his biological mother's side, but he and Neil had adopted him when, at two, DCFS took him away from his parents due to a severe case of neglect. The first few years had been tense - because Luther and Maria had tried to fight it - but Andrew's adoptive mother was a child psychologist and Neil's foster sister a renowned family lawyer.

Even without the connections they would have fought to the death to keep Nicky, though. From the second they brought him home, he was theirs, and they were the only real parents the boy had ever known.

"H-hey pops," Nicky stammered through a poorly-attempted smile.

Andrew waved away the bravado and took a seat next to his son. "Should I talk to Grandpa Wymack about getting us a bigger closet? We aren't both going to fit in here much longer," he said lightly, a soft opening for Nicky to tell him what had him so upset.

Nicky laughed, a more genuine sound, then sniffed and rubbed at his eyes. "N-no. I'm sorry. I just..."

Andrew shook his head to stop him. "I would rather pay to have the closet expanded than take away a place you feel safe when you are upset."

As he watched, tears filled Nicky's eyes again, then he launched forward and it was honestly probably a good thing that the closet was a tight fit, otherwise Andrew might have gotten knocked over by the force of the hug. As it were, he was able to catch his son, patting his back only slightly awkwardly as Nicky let out a choked sob and began to ramble:

"..and then I told him that I liked his EARS oh my god Pops I am such a MORON why couldn't I tell him that I liked his eyes like a normal human or even that I liked his mouth or something!? That's sexy right? Oh my god this is terrible. And then! AND THEN I went and I liked about ten of his posts IN A ROW LIKE A CREEP and he NOTICED and then he MESSAGED ME and oh my god I can never show my face again.."

There was very little that Andrew could do other than listen, so that was what he did. As he did, though, he felt a warmth pool in his chest. A warmth that his son felt so safe and comfortable in his and Neil's space that he came here to hide when he felt upset. A warmth that he felt so comfortable, so safe with Andrew that he invited him into that space with him. That his son would cling to him and ramble about his boy problems without fear of judgement. That the biggest problems Nicky had right now were typical teenaged woes, not all the horrors that both Andrew and his husband were far too aware of existing in the world.

"I just don't know what to DO. Oh my god my life is OVER," Nicky finished with a flourish, pulling back and looking up at him with wide dark eyes.

After a thoughtful pause, Andrew finally gave a hum and said, "Well, that depends."

"Depends?"

Andrew shrugged. "Does he really have cute ears?"

Nicky made and high, defeated sound, burying his face in his hands. "They are ADORABLE, Pops. A-dor-a-ble."

"Ah." Andrew nodded his understanding and patted his son on the shoulder. "Then I think that definitely calls for extra chocolate chips in the pancakes."

And, because Nicky was a teenaged boy with boy problems - but he was also still a teenaged boy (and moreover, he was Andrew's son), his head went up and his eyes brightened. "Chocolate chips."

"And whipped cream."

"Oh!" Nicky scrambled to his feet and bounded out of the closet with a flourish, only to come up short when Andrew snagged the back of his shirt.

"And Nicky, those crashes from before..?"

Nicky blushed brightly and glanced out the bedroom door toward his own room and quickly back again. "Um.. I'll clean up after breakfast?"

Andrew put on his most impactful Dad Stare, then gave a firm nod before letting go. "You better. Now hurry on before Kevin eats them all."

Nicky yelped in an entirely new kind of distress, all but sprinting out of the room. "KEVIN DON'T YOU DARE YOU LITTLE MONSTER!"

Andrew watched him go and didn't bother to stop the smile that crawled onto his face from a hidden chamber somewhere in the center of his heart. There was once a time he might have resisted it, when he was younger and wounded and angry, his teeth bared against a world that had only ever hurt him. Now, though? Now there was so much fierce, protective warmth inside of him - so much pride, so much adoration, so much love, that he no longer saw the expression of joy as a sign of weakness.

Shouts and scuffling downstairs pulled him out of his thoughts and he sighed to himself, but he was still wearing the smile as he headed down to breakfast.

[theevangelion]

Red Bottom: Red Kryptonite D/S Supercorp Story (Complete)

Prompt Fill for Gabs: Redk!Kara wanting it fast and hard and lena fucking her gently until she's in tears? With lots of praise kink pls

*OR*

Under the effects of Red Kryptonite, Kara has to be kept somewhere secure. The L-Corp Laboratory is about the only location with enough lead lining to hide her heat signature while the DEO worries about bigger threats. Kara’s frustrated arousal and darkened mood is nothing compared to her girlfriend, Lena Luthor’s.

There’s a dark and evil side lurking inside Lena too. Always there, always out of sight. With Kara under the influence of the Red Kryptonite, Lena finds herself indulging in her own primal dark side in order to quell Kara’s own.

“Again?” Lena’s eyes fly wide open at the DEO circus.

“The red kryptonite particles went up with the explosion last week,” Alex says, overseeing the transfer of her sedated sister to the secure L-Corp laboratory. “And what goes up must come down. Jesus, I can’t believe we didn’t account for the rain.”

“Wouldn’t she be safer at DEO headquarters? It’s just, her safety should be the priority.” Lena doesn’t want to seem too eager to palm off her girlfriend.

“If the DEO headquarters were still secret, sure.” Alex rubs her temple, now suddenly thinking of other problems.

Her hazel eyes find Lena with a sense of exhaustion, as though there are too many things being juggled in the air and she needs someone to take Kara out of the equation.

Alex continues, “The League caught intel about our security protocols. Ironically, the one place Lex will probably not look is the place right beneath his nose. The building has enough lead-lining to hide her heat signature?”

“More than enough,” Lena confirms.

“Well,” Alex pats the chief executive’s shoulder. “I’ll call you tonight, and I’ll leave her in your capable hands for a few days.”

Lena laughs suddenly, the uncomfortable noise barely escaping through her tight teeth. “Please don’t.” She eyes Alex cautiously. “Just maybe let’s workshop this idea—”

“It will be fine,” Alex promises. “Just don’t listen to her, put your headphones in, think of it as babysitting duty. I’ll owe you one, big time.” Alex stares as though she means it regardless of the complications it might cause later down the line.

An unconditional favour from one of the higher-ups in the chain of command at the Department of Extranormal Operations… That could certainly come in handy one day.

“Not the holding cell. Put her in the observation suite, the glass is resistant to her heat vision.” Lena points to the clear glass room opposite the laboratory. “Extra restraints, green kryptonite lamps—”

“Green kryptonite could kill her,” Alex balks.

“In larger quantities, sure.” Lena nods. “In a smaller, medicinal dosage it nullifies her power for a short time. Like the small amount emitted by the kryptonite lamps your tech team developed last year in the event of…” Lena pauses, quirking her crimson lips as she searches for the right word. “Something unexpected.” Alex instantly closes her eyes. “Bring them, bring all of the equipment. And extra restraints too, please.”

“Why extra restraints?” Alex lifts her brow, confused.

Lena rolls her eyes, then turns to her personal assistant. “Jesse, clear my entire schedule from now until Tuesday. Alex, trust me, I’m doing you a favour, but I need the restraints and the kryptonite lamps. For my safety, you understand?” She glances at her girlfriend’s sister.

“Whatever you need, Lena.” Alex doesn’t ask further.

***

Kara awakes slowly and feels the tension in her arms. They’re captured around her ribcage, as though she is trapped in a suffocating hug. She shifts her shoulders, wiggling, unable to get herself loose from the poor, rough excuse for a blanket that has entwined her.

“You’ll forgive me for being cautious,” Lena says through the speaker. “It’s for your safety, mostly.”

Kara opens her eyes and simultaneously rolls them when she sees the applied restraints. Her arms are secured in a white strait-jacket, the tan leather straps buckled tightly, with another strap of leather secured between her nude legs to stop her wiggling out of it.

“For my safety or yours?” Kara flexes against the strait-jacket.

“Alright,” Lena levels seriously over the speaker. “For mine then.”

The strait-jacket isn’t torn to pieces when Kara flexes a second time, which strikes her as strange. She wiggles again, harder, flexing, stretching her arms as far as she can against the secured sleeves.

“Sorry baby,” Lena says, walking in to view as she stops in front of the glass door that separates them. “Another precaution. I can survive your bad mood, but only when we level the playing field.” Her emerald eyes glance to the industrial spotlights that emanate a low, dark green colour over the observation suite.

Green Kryptonite.

“If you think there’s such a big bad monster lurking inside of me—” Kara stops, heaving furious breaths. “Why risk it the other three-hundred and sixty-four days a year? Am I not capable of tearing you apart then, if I wanted to?”

“There is always a monster lurking inside of you, baby.” Lena folds her arms over her black cashmere sweater. “But you are the strongest, most level-headed woman I know. You would never let it hurt anyone.” Her eyes flicker with love. “The other days of the year, of course.” She pushes a small smile, but then it disappears as she dips her head.

Kara narrows her eyes. “Oh, you want to talk about monsters, Lena?” She can’t help but laugh.

“Not particularly.”

“Because you know the one that claws inside of your ribcage is so much more violent and hungry than mine.”

“Don’t do this, please,” Lena pleads. “I know you can’t help it, but could you… try and help it?”

“Sad, poor, angry little girl—lost and unlovable,” Kara scoffs, her lips forming an angry smirk. “How does it feel knowing that I am the only one capable of loving a creature as tortured as you?”

Lena’s mouth twitches almost imperceptibly.

Her face is beautiful and smooth like porcelain, but her eyes are utterly empty and her jaw flexes with the tiniest slip of anger. To Kara, she is still beautiful, still the finest human she has ever met, a bride to be made fit for House of El yet.

It’s simply a case of subjugating her first, Kara thinks. To teach Lena who exactly her better half is, metaphorically and literally speaking.

“You’re still pretty when you want to cry,” Kara says coldly, unbothered and unconcerned. “You should know that.”

“Funny,” Lena doesn’t skip a beat, her tone equally cold. “I’ve always thought the same of you.”

There’s a flash, a tiny strike of lightning. It hits Kara right in her belly and sends her flying backwards. The pain is the least of her concerns. She doesn’t understand what it was. Kara pants and opens her eyes, curled in the corner of the glass cage with a tight grimace.

“For my safety,” Lena explains, lifting the remote that controls the shock pulses. “In case I feel threatened.” She smirks slightly.

“You always feel threatened,” Kara laughs despite the painful ripples in her body from the electric shock. “Always threatened by other powerful women, always worried you’re too small, too unimportant, too weak to compete—”

“Whoops.” The powerful shock hits Kara again and makes her whimper. It leaves her crumpled and curling, sweating and gritting her teeth. “My finger slipped,” Lena says, unamused.

Despite the red kryptonite, despite the hubris it imbues her with, she is completely defenseless and that only compounds her anger. Kara wrangles as hard as she can, until she nearly dislocates her shoulder trying to get free from the pathetic little strait-jacket that on any ordinary day could be ripped apart with a sneeze.

The door alarm rings out. Lena steps inside the lion’s den, her Blahnik heels clicking quickly over the cold hard floor. Kara refuses to look at her, she tucks her sweaty head away as the pencil skirt gracefully bends at the knees to appraise her closer, as though she is some kind of small animal.

“See,” Lena whispers quietly, moving the damp blonde hair off her face. “Still so pretty when you want to cry, baby, I told you.”

“Don’t start a war you cannot win, Lena,” Kara growls with gravel in her throat. “I will still have my power and might when the weekend is out, and you—”

“Will still have mine, too.” Lena slips her hand over Kara’s bottom, pulling the curled up little monster close like a pet to be made tame. “Why don’t you be a good girl and let that nasty tongue of yours rest. I don’t want to sedate you. There is so much more productive fun to be had when you’re awake.”

Kara’s ears lift at that.

“Fun?” She looks at Lena with a craned eyebrow.

Lena looks different. Kara isn’t sure whether it’s the effect of the red kryptonite, or whether her girlfriend has always had that air of cruel arrogance and she’s only just noticing it now. But Lena’s eyes glean her as though she’s a wolfish little whore, a thing to conquer. Her crimson lips pull into a small smirk.

“Fun for me, yes.” Lena pets her damp, long blonde hair softly. “The way I see it, Kara Danvers, is that I’m going to marry you one day. That means for better or worse. And, if I can’t find a way to handle you at your worst—” Kara hisses when slender fingers yank her hair tight in a tight fistful. “Then what business do I have enjoying you at your best?” Their eyes lock seriously.

“You think this is me at my worst?” Kara’s eyes grow wide with indignation. “Oh just you wait. The Hell I will reign down upon you—” Material is quickly stuffed inside her open mouth as gag, stifling the threats.

The material is slightly damp, heady almost, the feminine taste that is so distinctly Lena Luthor coats Kara’s tongue… Kara realises that this isn’t a traditional gag.

“Hold my panties for me like a good girl,” Lena whispers and stuffs them a little deeper into her mouth. “Don’t spit them out, otherwise I’m going to push them in another hole. And believe me, I have such better, bigger plans for your pretty tight holes…” Her manicured fingers slipped over the tanned leather strap between Kara’s sweating thighs.

When Kara’s blue eyes fly open in surprise, the question doesn’t even need to be uttered. Lena can practically read her mind. The executive peers down at her with a loving smile, her palms gently taking each side of her face and cradling it close to her own.

“The red kryptonite cannot be chemically neutralised. That means I need to find another way to control you when you’re… under the influence of dangerous substances.” Lena trails her hand through Kara’s long hair, her nails dragging and gathering it neatly. “That means I need to condition you to see me as your handler, to prevent my brother ever using the red kryptonite compound as a weapon.”

“My handler?” Kara scoffs through the panties between her teeth, laughing. “You couldn’t handle a guinea pig without help—” The sentence is slapped out of her mouth, hard.

“Your ears work, how reassuring.” Lena remains blank-faced. “Now, come with me, let’s see how reward-motivated you can be, little one.”

The fingers entwined in the back of her scalp tug, pull, coax her to follow on her knees across the glass room towards a desk with a laptop on top of it in the corner. There’s a soft, plush cushion beside the chair. Kara realises too late what exactly her girlfriend has planned.

“No, no.” Lena stops when Kara stops, glancing down at the ravenous little creature digging her feet into the floor. “Wouldn’t you rather feel good, sweetheart?” She swiftly takes the panties out of her mouth.

Kara thinks, too optimistically, that it’s so she can reply clearly.

Instantaneously, Kara feels all of her muscles tighten at once. Something has started vibrating inside of her—quite literally, vibrating inside of her—it’s pressed deep inside of her folds, right behind her clit against that perfect spot that made her cunt feel tight and hot. The panties were removed from her mouth so they weren’t a choking hazard, she realises.

Then, it dwindles away to nothing.

“I am going to hurt you in ways you cannot fathom,” Kara growls furiously at the denial of her pleasure.

“No, you’re not.” Lena cranes down and pecks her temple. “Because I will crush you before you ever get the chance, little girl,” her soft voice becomes a stern tone against the ear, the responsive slither of crimson red kryptonite emanating from Kara’s temple not going unnoticed.

The moment Kara snatches at Lena’s throat with her teeth—she is made to learn the hard way around why it’s a regrettable idea.

A sudden shock of electricity hits her, but not externally, this time it’s deep inside of her cunt, attacking the back of her clit with needle-like precision. It hits her so hard that Kara squeals and releases Lena’s throat before the slightest amount of pressure can be applied with her teeth.

Unlike the earlier electric shock, this one is prolonged and hateful almost. Kara curls on her side and cries, clenching her thighs, yelping like a wounded little animal. Lena stands over her calmly, hands clasped in front of her neat black pencil skirt while her thumb continues to press the remote control.

“Please!” Kara squeals. “Please make it stop!”

“Good girl,” Lena whispers and lifts her thumb off the trigger. “Manners will get you everywhere, sweetheart. I would advise that you don’t ever try to hurt me, otherwise I will have to rectify the situation with some sense of equalism. You understand?”

“Yes,” Kara spits the affirmation between her clenching teeth.

“Yes Ma’am,” Lena insists.

“You have lost your soft little fucking mind if you think—” Kara wails a sharp sob that cuts her off, squirming her thighs together again as a small jolt hits her deep in the back of the cunt.

“When you’re like this, Kara, I don’t see my girlfriend,” Lena says firm. “My sweet, gentle, strong Supergirl... She would never try to hurt me, would never hurt a fly even. But you?” Her tone is suddenly accusatory. “You are not my Kara. You are the monster that lurks beneath the surface, and you will kneel and be made tame or you will be crushed into dust. I’m not your girlfriend, your little human, or your subordinate. I am the only authority in your tiny fucking insular world and you will obey me.” It isn’t posed as a question, simply posited as fact.

“We’ll see about that, Ma’am,” Kara growls sarcastically.

“Good girl,” Lena’s tone is suddenly praising, her eyes narrowing with pleased surprise. “You don’t have to enjoy saying it, baby, you just have to do as you’re told.”

Instinctively, Kara wants to protest and be difficult. But whatever Lena has buried deep inside of her cunt…it begins to strangely swell, filling her, vibrating and pulsing against her slick hot folds in a way that is entirely pleasurable. Kara understands too late what game they’re playing. Lena is operantly conditioning her. A game of punishment and reward.

The corner of Kara’s vision glitters, almost. The red kryptonite heightens everything, her emotions, her mood, her aggression, and apparently her arousal too. The wolfish creature can’t help but gasp, closing her eyes and unable to form coherent words.

“I think that’s enough baby,” Lena whispers softly.

Slowly, the strange new toy inside of her cunt recedes in size and slows its vibrations. It feels like a knot growing smaller, then a love egg, then it’s too small to be descriptively felt any more. Kara can still tell something is inside of her but it’s the smallest, most inoffensive intrusion. There, but not there, like a tiny pill-sized probe of sorts.

Kara glances down to the  leather strap buckled tight over her slit. She had assumed it was there to stop her slipping out of the strait-jacket, but Kara now understood it was also there to keep something buried inside of her.

Kara shifts slowly on the floor, twisting her hips, trying to feel out the sensations in her body that no longer seemed to exist without Lena deciding they should. It makes the chief executive smile this wolfish, chipper grin that looks strange on her usually dour face. Her beaming white teeth are on display with the breadth of her smile.

She looks beautiful, Kara can’t help but notice.

“What-” Kara blinks, completely confused. “What did you put inside of me?”

“A very, very special toy.” Lena gently takes her by the chin, guiding her shying face to meet her authoritative eyes. “I made it especially for you, though the punishment features were certainly a last-minute revision. If you’re a very, very good girl I’ll show you just how nice it feels when I decide that it should.”

“And if I’m not a good girl?” Kara lifts her brow defiantly. “If I don’t want to be your unconsenting little fucking pet slave?”

At that Lena’s eyes widen slightly.

“Baby,” Lena whispers with a knitted brow, her voice slow and loving. “I’m trying to help you here. The green kryptonite—” She nods at the deep green spotlights that cast the room in dark shadows. “I don’t know how much exposure is lethal, but I know that if you ever posed a risk to the general public then the DEO would ask questions later after they had put you down like a feral animal.” The theoretical possibility seems to make Lena tight with worry. “You don’t have to like this. It’s non-lethal, it’s for your own good, and my Kara would perfectly understand why it was necessary.”

“Then your Kara is a submissive little whore, and you probably know as much.” Kara glares at the unshakeable human she had underestimated.

Lena tucks a long weft of blonde hair behind Kara’s ear.

“Come along,” Lena instructs, turning on her heels to walk to the desk in the corner of the room. “You can either come willingly or I will give you a damn good reason to regret being so difficult.”

***

To Lena’s surprise, Kara did as she was told. Lena sat down in the chair and opened the laptop, her thumb on the shock button, ready to hit her girlfriend where it hurt once she reached zero on her mental countdown from ten.

But Kara crawls forward as best she can like a wounded little animal, her arms secured by the strait-jacket, her cheek pressed to the floor as she pushes forward indignantly on her knees.

The miracle happened. The pigs flew over the sky. The chickens had come home to roost. Lena felt her smile widen proudly, her fingers slipping around Kara’s neck and tickling the nape.

“Good girl,” Lena hushes, then she slips her hand around Kara’s jaw and brings her cheek to her lap. “There you go, just kneel there and show me you can be good.”

Lena rewards her in tangible, felt ways. The bullet-like toy inside of her cunt was activated with the remote, Lena’s thumb slipping over the control trigger to increase the swell in size, then the vibrations too.

Lena kept it on the minimal settings, flexing her thumb back and forth, giving her girlfriend just enough to coax her submission. She imagined that it probably felt like a pulse inside of her tight slick cunt, a pressure that grew and pressed into the back of her g-spot with delicious accuracy, then receded into nothing.

“Say thank you, princess.” Lena idly traces her fingertips on the panting jaw pressing to her thigh.

“Go fuck yourself you arrogant, precious little cunt.”

Lena just closes her eyes and presses the button.

Tense and tight and squealing, the wolfish little creature slumps to the floor and wrestles against the strait-jackets straps. Lena opens her eyes and peers down at her, guilty, curious, aroused beyond words and not ready to take her thumb off the trigger yet.

“Please!” Kara yelps with tears streaming down her red cheeks. “I’m sorry!”

“You’re sorry, what?” Lena lifts her eyebrow, waiting for the appellation.

“Oh go fuck yourself—” Kara regrets it instantly.

It was thrilling to bring a god to her squealing, tightly curled-up kneels. Lena knows it’s wrong, that it’s villainous in all the ways she holds herself to be morally higher than. But all Kara has to do is be polite, it really isn’t that hard. She increases the electricity until it feels like a thousand tiny needles digging and prodding, Lena has no doubts about it.

“I’m sorry, Ma’am!” Kara sobs. “Please make it stop, I’m sorry!”

“Good girl,” Lena hushes and takes her thumb off the trigger. “There’s a good, good girl.” She pets her long damp hair. “See, it isn’t that hard baby. You just have to do as you’re told, you just have to be a good girl.”

Lena replaces the pain with a flood of pleasure. It takes her girlfriend off her centre of gravity. Kara slumps again, her toes flexing and curling, her belly tightening until she is curling like a little kitten. Lena makes sure to show the submission an abundance of reward, her thumb flies upward on the control trigger and gives Kara a brief taste of how good obedience can truly feel.

The toy swells so big and wide inside of Kara that her weeping baby blues fly open, entire constellations mapped in the whites of her eyes. The vibrations are so powerful that Lena can hear them — thrumming, pulsing, mechanically growling away like a revving engine. She brings Kara down slowly, gently, backing her away from the cliff edge of a quick hard orgasm.

“Please!” Kara whines and brings her cheek back to Lena’s lap, kissing and digging her nose into the top of the chief executive’s thigh. “I’ll be good, I’ll behave, please just let me cum.”

“I think I’ll leave you right here.” Lena settles on a low, gentle vibration setting — enough that Kara can feel it stirring her orgasm, but not enough to push her over the edge. “If you’re still being a good girl by the time I’ve finished my ordinance paperwork, we can revisit things.”

“Please,” Kara whimpers, her voice barely a choking whisper. “Please, please, please—” She buries her face into Lena’s lap.

Lena ignores it and gets on with her tasks. It takes longer than it usually does, she’s more aware of the ticking time. The panting little mouth pressing to her thigh whimpers and moans, but Kara’s face is entirely slack and resting on the leg as though she has no energy to hold it up of her own volition.

“Please Ma’am,” Kara whimpers, “Please, Ma’am, make it feel good.”

Lena says nothing, offers nothing in response, but she pushes the trigger upwards and increases the vibrations and swelling size of the toy, incrementally and almost procedural. Then, she clicks into her emails for a quick update on the minute notes from the meeting she missed.

Ten minutes pass, if that.

“I need to cum,” Kara pants. “Please?”

“No.”

“Please Ma’am!”

“I said no—ow!” Lena glances down to where Kara had nipped her with teeth, hard. “What did I tell you?” Lena asks calmly, her fingers catching the shying chin. “I was fair, I warned you Kara, all you have to do is be a good girl and do as I tell you to.”

“Please no more shocks, I’m sorry—I didn’t, I didn’t mean to!”

“I’m not going to shock you,” Lena says reassuringly, closing the laptop lid. “You want to be fucked? You want to be pleasured? I’m going to show you exactly why you wait for my freely-given permission. You think this is degrading? Oh baby, you haven’t seen anything yet.”

***

Kara cries so hard it makes the veins in her throat bulge and stick out. Her legs thrash and kick, her arms wrangling desperately against the tight, taut sleeves of the jacket. Externally, it looked as though she might be in the worst pain one woman could possibly experience. Lena almost felt guilty. But, Kara wasn’t in pain.

She was in terminal pleasure.

“Spread your legs,” Lena only has to whisper the instruction.

Kara does as she’s told instantly, as best she can, opening her shaking legs as far and wide as she possibly can. Her cunt is pink and swollen against the wet leather strap, bucking desperately for an orgasm she isn’t permitted to have.

Whenever she gets too close, Lena dials the toy down—or gives her a tiny shock—depending on whichever is necessary to keep her an obedient and well-behaved girl.

“What a pretty girl,” Lena croons, brow furrowing deeply as she leaned against her chair and crossed her leg. “Tell me again, what are the rules baby?”

“I do as I’m told,” Kara pants. “That’s all I have to do, exactly as I’m told to do.”

“You’re such a good, obedient little girl.” Lena dials up her vibrations almost imperceptibly. “I wanted to break you in gently, Kara, but if you need to be brought under the thumb with ruthless efficiency then that works for me too. Come, hump my foot like a good pet.”

The red kryptonite glows and ebbs under her skin, everywhere, pulsing, from her temples to her toes, the slithers of red slip and glide beneath her skin and then reappear a moment later somewhere else. Lena surmises that her body, her primal aggression, it’s fighting her from the inside out and telling her this is wrong.

Kara ignores it and does as she’s told.

“What a good girl!” Lena cranes down and kisses her temple as the slick leather strap begins to work the top of her bare foot. “What do good girls get, Kara?”

“Rewards, Ma’am,” Kara whimpers.

“And what does the good girl want?”

“For you to fuck me hard, Ma’am,” Kara breaks into a sob and grinds her hips harder. “Please, please, it’s too gentle.” She dissolves into hiccuping tears.

“You’re sure you want a big hard orgasm?” Lena furrows her brow, as though she doesn’t understand. “Wouldn’t you rather a nice, soft, gentle little orgasm that just takes you over the edge—”

“Please let me cum hard,” Kara squeals, her face dipped down and cradled between her handler’s thighs. “Please, Ma’am! I’ll be a good girl, I promise!”

“No baby,” Lena says calmly. “Just a tiny soft orgasm tonight. If you are good, I’ll let you have a big one tomorrow.”

“Ma’am please!” Kara yelps as though agonised, her fingers digging tight into Lena’s kneecaps. “Please, please—”

It’s important that Kara learns the size and depth of a reward is Lena’s to call. She won’t get her own way all of the time, that’s Lena’s rationale with denying her. Lena dials down the vibrations incrementally, then makes the swell of the toy just a little bit smaller. Responsively, Kara sobs and bucks harder as she loses the pressure on her g-spot.

“The more you push the more pressure I’m going to take away,” Lena is stern because she feels that she has to be. “Are we going to be a good girl or a ruined girl?”

“Good girl,” Kara whimpers and bucks. “Can I cum, please? I’ll be a good girl, I’ll be obedient.”

“Chase it. I’ll cut you off when you’ve had enough baby, don’t you worry.” Lena cruelly smiles.

Kara bucks and grows silent for a moment, her pained expression slackening as the orgasm creeps up gently—nowhere near as forceful as the wolfish little thing desires it to be—but that will come in time, Lena thinks. She cups Kara’s chin and stares down at her, appraising, judging perfectly, grinning when the wild little thing comes undone with a sob and clutches at her leg like a humping little pet.

“There we go,” Lena whispers, turning the toy off suddenly just as Kara hit the peek. “What a very, very good girl. I’m pleased, Kara.” She cranes and pecks her temple, her tear-stained cheek, then her panting lips. “What do we say?”

“Thank you, Ma’am,” Kara stutters.

“Good, good girl.” Lena cradles her cheeks. “Let’s get you comfortable in bed. You’re not going to give me problems, are you?” Lena teases her thumb over the shock trigger.

“No Ma’am!” Kara shakes her head frantically. “No problems!”

“Good girl, that’s what I like to hear.” Lena kisses her more fervently this time.

It was a gamble with her life that paid off, Lena thinks with relief.

The green kryptonite lamps had died hours ago, the room was completely dim and dark save the backlight from the row of monitors opposite the other side of the glass. Unbeknownst to Kara, she had slowly regained her powers, or certainly enough of them to beat Lena in a fight if she so wished. But, she had been such a very good girl.

Lena had no concerns now that her little wolfish pet could be brought to heel.

FIND MORE STORIES/SUBMIT ME YOUR IDEAS HERE!

[binniesthighs]

hello stranger | reader x changbin |

a/n: we are getting to the “height” of the conflict, therefore the angst is gonna start amping up-just as a reminder! This fic talks about self worth and healing from past trauma so please read what makes you comfy! In this chapter, the majority is implied, but still, please read the warnings ahead of time :) 

Part 4 

Pairing: self insert, female reader x seo changbin, female reader x han jisung 

Genre: strangers to lovers, fluff, smut, angst 

Tags: (of this part) college au, rapper!changbin, rapper!jisung, establishedfwb!jisung, artist!reader, explicit language, fluffy growing feelings, mentions of food, hello yes I just wanna give this changbin a huuuuge hug 

CWs: implications/discussion of past toxic realtionship, implications of negative self-worth and self-sabotage 

Word count: 4.8k 

Chapters: 

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4 | PART 5

Popcorn flew into the air in slow motion and approximately four hundred multicolored skittles scattered the floor like the shattering of glass. 

“Yes...yes...FUCK YES!!” 

Felix launched his small body into the air with a victorious screech, turning his controller into a projectile. The clump of black plastic thumped into the torn up corduroy couch missing Chan’s arm by millimeters. 

“HOW TO YOU LIKE THAT?? WOOOO!!” 

Your friend took a victory lap around the tiny living room that was a mess of winter coats and boots with melted snow dripping to the hardwood floor. 

“Felixxxxx, you made a mess!” Chan sighed out deeply and solemnly at the array of rainbow colored candies on the floor. 

“I never win. You gotta admit the way that I finished that off was extra disrespectful. DID YOU SEE the way that I down-B’d you to pieces??? That was fuckin’ awesome.” 

“Good job ‘lix.” You pulled a Twizzler by your teeth and dished out a little wink for him. 

“Hey! I haven’t been playing for nearly as long as you two have. I see this as a complete win.” 

“Well, Chan and I were at each others throats the whole time, so, we kinda killed ourselves off for you.” 

“I still won!!” 

“Alright, alright, good job.” Both you and Chan took turns patting his poofy blond hair. 

“Ahhh our Lix’ is finally growing up.” Chan sighed, mockingly looking out in the distance to some far away place. “But...now you’ve gotta clean this up. Lucky you’re the one that paid for the Skittles, not me.” 

In his fit of happiness Felix didn’t even care about getting down on his hands and knees to pick up the pieces like Cinderella. 

Chan took a gulp of his electric green Monster. “Feels nice to have you back around here Y/n. It feels like it’s kind of been a while.” 

“Mm, it has. You know how it goes, stuff gets busy and all that.” 

“~And she’s been hanging out with someone else~” Felix’s words came out in a cutesy little song. 

“You have?” 

You slapped Felix right upside the head to which he whimpered out with a much more dramatic “owww” than was warranted. 

It was likely a mistake that the two of you had kept Changbin a secret from Chan. Chan basically idolized him, and you felt that it was best not to...complicate things. Every other hour Chan would bring up one of Changbin’s songs, talking about him as if he was some kind of lyrical genius. He had half a plan to meet him at the last show, but had gotten too shy and pulled you both before he could get second thoughts. 

For it to be so easy for you...it felt somehow unfair. 

It was definitely a mistake. 

“Who? Jisung?” Chan rolled his eyes a bit like he always would when spoke of that boy.

“No...” Your voice became small, then you shot deathly glares at Felix who tucked his tail in between his legs. 

“Chan...”

Felix’s eyes widened to full moons once he had realized what you were about to do. You curled yourself up into a ball slightly, sweaty hands grasping at your controller. 

“Its...Changbin.” 

“CHANGBIN?” Chan shot upright from his seat. “Changbin?? Are we talking about the same Changbin?? Changbin-from-the-show-Changbin??” 

“Yes.” You steadied your thumping chest. 

“When did that happen??” Chan turned his body towards Felix who cowered into the mess of Skittles. “Did you know about this?” 

Felix made a little grunt that could have sounded like either a “yes” or a “no”-- it was likely his safest bet. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“Because I knew it would be kinda...like this...” 

Your eldest friend sat back down his his palm firmly slapped against his forehead. “Sorry, I’m just having a hard time piecing this all together.” 

“It happened after the show that one day. I was walking home and I fell and got kind of scraped up, then he took me back to his place...” 

Simply bringing that night back up again sent you spinning into your pool of memories: and they had a particular tendency to make you just as flustered as the night when they had first occurred. There were dozens of little things about him that had stuck with you, even if you wouldn’t admit it out loud. 

There was that stupidly confident smirk of his, that little scar on his chin, how his fingers looked in those silver rings, his hooded grey-black eyes, those faint little stretch marks on the backs of his arms, and the way that his Adam’s apple would bounce when you kissed into his neck. 

“Well? Chan’s voice snapped you back. “Does that mean...you aren’t seeing Jisung anymore?” 

“...Jisung?” 

His name hadn’t occupied your thoughts for weeks, and you hadn’t taken much notice of it. There were unread text messages from him that had fallen to the bottom of you message list, and missed calls that you hadn’t returned. Creeping inside of you was a sick and sticky feeling: the kind that you pushed deep down inside yourself to the place where things would get forgotten. 

You didn’t know what you wanted from Jisung. 

It wasn’t the way that he would kiss you roughly and needily, or how he would take greedy hands to every inch of your body. It wasn’t how he would fill praises into your ears or shake a little when he would finish himself off on your belly.  Months ago, it would be all you could think of, then immediately forget after it had happened. That was what made it easy. 

Changbin wasn’t easy. He wouldn’t give himself up entirely to you just because he could. He made you earn him, and he made you seek him. 

You belonged to neither of them. 

In your lap, your hands trembled with a memory of long ago: snowflakes in your hands burning with the cold and your throat scratched from all the yelling. 

“Y/n?” Chan softened. 

 A sob had caught in your throat which you swallowed down with effort. “I-I’m still seeing Jisung.” 

“Wait, you’re seeing both of them?” Felix popped up from the floor. “You didn’t tell either of them?” 

“I don’t need to. I’m not tied down to either of them.” You had said it as confidently as you could, almost like you needed to convince yourself. 

Both of your best friends eyes carefully held yours. 

“Doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t tell them.” Felix nodded. 

Chan nodded too in agreeance. 

“But we’re just fucking around?? Its not like I’m cheating on anyone.” 

“Y/n, you’re missing the point.” 

“What? Don’t I have the right to sleep with whoever the hell I want to? Don’t you think that it’s kind of backwards that I should keep everyone in the loop when I’m just--why would I--” 

Chan’s hand snuck over to yours which had started shaking even more violently on your leg; you hadn’t even noticed. The sobs that you had held in your chest started to overflow, bubbling and spewing from your surface. They felt choked in your throat, and then burned hot tears in your eyes. Both of your friends got to work, scooting in right next to you and sandwiching you between their arms. 

“You don't have to be afraid.” Felix whispered softly. He smoothed his hand down your back. 

“I-I’m not.” You clenched the words between your teeth. “Why-why are you guys drilling me like this??” You squirmed a bit between them. 

Chan hushed, “We’re not.” 

“Then why does it feel--” 

“--You're doing it again.” Felix simply sighed, and rocked the three of your bodies to the tune of your messy sobs. 

Chan let out little “shhh” sounds. “Stop digging yourself in that hole Y/n. You know that you’re doing it. Its more than just messing around.” 

A tangible and thick silence held the air where your two closest friends held onto you tightly, almost like you would slip away. You fucking hated them for reading you as well as they did, but you also fucking loved them for being as good at it as they were. Being sandwiched like this with them was all too familiar. They had also done it on that same night: the night when your world had collapsed. That night you had been so weak you could barely hold back. 

“It’s not gonna happen again.” Chan said at last. “I know that you must think about it all the time, and I’m so sorry that you do. You’re never gonna be stuck in that alley alone again.” 

Felix quickly added, “We’ll be there--even if it does--which it won’t.” 

“Stop dragging yourself through it okay? I know it’s easier said than done.” Chan took his black sweater sleeve to dab at your tears. 

You were completely engulfed in your friends love, the unconditional kind: the kind that would part the seas and walk through flames for you. You don’t know how you could have forgotten how it had been there. 

“Maybe its one of them or the other, but, I think you should tell them. You don’t deserve to tear yourself up like this over it all. It’s not good for you, or for them.” Felix laughed a little. “We’re not blind you know.” 

Fat, thick sniffles clogged up your nose. Your subconscious and consciousness mudded behind your eyes and those memories of both boys: Changbin and Jisung became indistinguishable. You had sought them out for different reasons, but you hadn’t known why. Now, it was all becoming clearer. 

“You like him don’t you?” Felix took his turn dabbing at your eyes too. “I can tell.” 

“N-no...” 

Felix didn’t even need to say who “he” was for you to understand. 

“No?” 

“I just...go see him sometimes.” 

You would. You would see him, think of him, call all the little things about him to your memory: that scar on his chin and the faint stretch marks on his arms. 

Snot dripped down your nose and over your quivering lips and you didn’t even care. 

That voice rang in your ears just as you had remembered it on that night when he had dragged you out there, alone, furious. You didn’t even know what you had done wrong. 

"I don’t want it to happen again.” 

The words tore from your lips freely, finally. The fear that you had held so deep inside, the fear that would plague your every other thought. The fear that kept you from answering questions or giving answers. The fear that brought your feet to Jisung’s doorstep and the fear that kissed away words on Changbin’s lips. A massive weight like heavy metal chains that had wrapped around your body started to loosen. 

“How are you going to let yourself have a chance at something good if you don’t try, right?” Chan and Felix exchanged hopeful little smiles. 

Felix patted your hair to fix where you had frizzed it between them. “You know what you need to do.” 

╚ ——————————————— ╝

[11:18] 

changbin: this friday? yeah, I don’t think that I have anything else going on. 

its been a little while.

everything okay? 

...

i’m sorry if i overstepped that night

you just looked 

...

fuck 

 you’ve got me thinking of you all the time 

╚ ——————————————— ╝

Snow fell on your walk to class. It was the same early morning one that you shared with Minho. These days, the two of you had seemed to have gotten much closer. Even though you hadn’t been over in nearly a week, Minho still talked to you as if he saw you there every day. He would complain about little things such as how the rest of his roommates would leave dishes in the sink or socks randomly on the floor. 

What the two of you didn’t talk about much was Changbin. There was some unspoken understanding now that the two of you had promised. He didn’t want to know much and you didn’t want to tell him; and it stayed that way. It was odd now considering that you had been quiet before so he couldn’t hear. 

Admittedly, that did give you a chuckle or two from time to time. 

Today, the snowflakes gathered in clumps and hugged each other while they floated down the the ground where they would melt instantly. This was the kind of snow that wouldn’t stick around. For this, you were grateful. In the first week of February, you had just enough of winter and longed for the green grasses that would peek from the melting white. 

The tip of your nose and ears were warm as you marched onward with eyes squinted from the flakes that would get caught in them. In some ways, you were thankful. During the lectures, you would often prefer watching the blanket of white dancing in the windows behind the professors head. 

Something you still had to learn however, was picking the right shoes. Your toes were frozen in the same canvas shoes that Changbin had scolded you for wearing. You pulled out your phone the check the time: eleven minutes early. It was somewhat of a personal best. 

You smiled with a little pride, missing the body mass that was walking right past you and collided with your shoulder. 

“Oh! Sorry, I’m so sorry, I was--Jisung?” 

“Y/n?? Holy shit--” 

Heartbeats rang in your ears and you felt as if you could hear the very blood pumping in your veins. 

“I-I’m late for class, I gotta--” 

“--No wait!” Rather than looking angry as you expected, that wide smile of his spread across his rosy cheeks. “I’m just glad that I ran into you.” 

“Jisung, really, I need to go--” 

His gloved hand reached out for your arm. “I’ve been trying to reach you but I think something must’ve gone wrong with your phone. How are you doing?” 

“How am I doing?” 

“Yeah, I was kinda worried, it was like you dropped off the face of the earth.” 

You clawed your arm away. “I’ve been fine.” 

Jisung sucked at his teeth, “Listen, after your class, can we talk? I borrowed my roommates car--I can drive us back to my place--” 

“--That’s what you want to do? Talk?” The simmering anxiety that washed over you turned into irate heat. 

“Yeah?” 

“No its not.” 

You slung your shoulder bag high up your arm, and walked on. 

“Stop stop stop.” Jisung threw his body in front of your path. “What’s been going on with you? Hm? Did something happen? What is it? Your-uh art or something? You still do that right?” 

Jisung had seen your paintings decorating the walls of your bedroom and the sketches that piled up on your desk next to colored pencils tied up together by rubber bands. He had seen them, but he had never looked. 

“Why the hell do you care so much?” 

“Baby--” He scuffed after your determined steps towards the business building. “Listen, I-I missed you okay?” Jisung yelled into the winter air: “I missed you. Alright?” 

“Jisung, it wasn’t me that you missed.” 

He stammered, and huffed up those puffy cheeks of his. In one final attempt, he approached you carefully with those cute brown eyes that you would often let slip into your daydreams. He reached out for your cold hand and took it in his. Had it been several months ago, you would have killed for him to hold your hand like that. 

“I’ve been doing some thinking lately, especially when I hadn’t heard from you. I just...got this feeling like had done something wrong and I couldn’t figure out what the hell it was. Now, I know that I did. I...don’t like seeing you mad like this. Tell me what it is? I wanna see you at my show next week. I just want things to go back to the way that they were.” 

The way that things were. 

The way that things were was simplier. Easier. Just like he was. Jisung didn’t ask questions and Jisung didn’t take you out to noodle places just because he he felt like it. 

The way that things were would have been easier and his hand did feel pleasantly warm in yours like you had imagined. 

“I have to get to class Jisung.” 

╚ ——————————————— ╝

On that Friday evening when you marched up to the front door of Changbin’s apartment building, he stood hooded under the tin awning turned to rust brown with age. He huffed out a little under the dinky light of the old building, but as far as you could see, his cheeks and nose had blushed with pink. You wouldn’t have pegged him it for it, but he had draped a thick black scarf around his neck in the same place where he would usually display that thick silver chain. As soon as you locked eyes, he gave you a little wave with knees bouncing. 

“Shouldn’t you be inside?” Your breath vaporized into thin, white, visible droplets in the air.  

“I thought that I could meet you out here rather than have you wait in the cold. I realized I did that last time.” 

“Oh. Uh-thank you...I guess.” 

Changbin cracked out a little smile, then announced, “Come on, let’s get going.” 

“Get going? Get going where? Did you want to get noodles again?” 

He chuckled, then stepped out into the lightly falling snow. It tangled up in his curling locks and got caught in the fabric of his scarf. “Hm-no. Not this time.” 

Changbin looked over at you with his stormy grey eyes, something that hadn’t come to you as easily as before. Something in him had changed since you had first met him when he was standing on that stage as if it was the edge of the world. Before, you had felt as if you were drowning in the way that he carried himself, or the way that his gaze would bear down at you as if to test your strength. The aura that you once thought to be crushing had now turned into something much softer. 

“You coming or are you just gonna stand there?” 

One of his hands which he had tucked into his parka coat wiggled out to beckon you behind him. 

“Come on. Take it.” 

“Wh--” 

Changbin made the choice for you then shoved both of your hands into his pocket. “It’ll be warmer this way.” 

You scoffed at the gesture: it was the oldest trick in the book. “Really? Is it?” 

In the cramped pocket filled with lint, his thumb rubbed up against yours. You obliged, and he tugged you close to him with each and every finger interlaced between yours.  

“See? Feels better now doesn’t it?” 

Flecks of salt crunched under both of your shoes when you turned the corner lit by a single streetlight. Both of the fabric of your coats squeaked standing this close to eachother. His scarf was pulled up all the way to his chin, and his hair bopped with each and every step that he took. 

“You’re not going to tell me at all?” 

“Can’t you just let this happen? I’m trying to surprise you, damn...” 

“...Surprise? What...?” 

Changbin lead the two of you past another corner to a much busier street in the nighttime: it was bustling with cars and taxi’s and it was lined with little shops on each side that leaked out tantalizing smells. 

“Are we getting food here?” 

“Quit asking questions.” 

Two more blocks, and Changbin’s hand tugged at you all the way down the stairs to the subway where he used his own card to swipe you both in. Down there the sides of the walls were dirtied with old newspapers and cigarette butts, and the walls were of an aquamarine blue hue. 

“The subway? We can’t be going too far...right?” 

Still, he said nothing while he brought you right over the the waiting area, and the two of you stood amongst the businessmen in their best shirts stained with food smears and beer splatters as well as the nurses still in their scrubs after a long day. 

“I said stop to asking questions.” His sentence trailed with a bit of an edge. “Here, stay close.” 

A group of particularly raucous businessmen fell all over each other in a little pod closest to you and Changbin. It was as if it was instinctual for him the way that he wrapped his arm around your shoulder to pull you in to his chest where you stood on the subway deck. A dank smell of wet coats and the sweating bodies under them wove to the air once you had entered and mingled with the rest of the passengers. It was rush hour, and the capacity of the subway was near limit, so no seats could be found. You had to bury your face partially into that scarf of his as he held onto one of the straps dangling from the ceiling of the car. Both of your arms wrapped around him in a type of hug as you clung to his frame to keep your balance.

“Only a few more stops,” He assured you. 

The lull of the car drew a heavy and sleepy film over your eyes, and you found yourself nuzzling into his warmth and clinging to the fabric of his coat just a bit tighter. You had never guessed, but there was an odd sense of intimacy about holding on to one person on a speeding train in a crowd of people. 

“This one.” Changbin nudged you lightly, then pushed a few bodies out of your way bodyguard-style at the stop. “Watch your step.” 

He swept your hand back up into his, then he led the both of you to the staircase and the sound of the city that was much louder and obvious than it was at the stop by his home. His smug smirk only grew the higher and higher that you ascended. 

“Now are you going to tell me?” 

“You’re horrible with surprises. Changbin nudged you with his elbow. “I’m never surprising you again.” 

The skin of your cheeks were once more assaulted with the bite of the winter, and it took you several moments to figure out where he had taken you. 

“Look over to your left.” 

Just past a hectic intersection, there was the soft glow of lights: the first ones that you could see were yellow-white, and they were all tangled up in the branches of tree branches: making them appear as if the leaves had never fallen, but were instead replaced by these luminescent ones. You looked further past them to the entire park which was illuminated by similar string lights of all kinds of different colors: green and red, blue, pink and orange. Every single tree in the park was decorated with them, and they shone upon the area in a rainbow of colors. 

“Christmas lights?” 

“The last ones that they take down I think.”  

“I mean...I wasn’t expecting...this” You gestured to the sea of lights before you. 

The stoplight across the street blinked on to the little “walk” symbol. 

Confident as ever, Changbin didn’t falter. “Let’s go.” 

╚ ——————————————— ╝

You followed after Changbin under the canopy of spiny winter fingers and the lights that were spotted in between them. The passageway of the park was lined with benches on the side of the path and little groups of families, friends and couples each passed pointing out at the whole display. Christmas had been long gone, but somehow it still existed here in this little corner and the joviality it held with it. 

He motioned for you to sit and brushed off the remnants of snow caked on the wood. 

“I’ve got one more surprise for you.” 

“I thought you said that you weren’t going to surprise me anymore?” 

“Well, you’re in luck because I planned this one already.” 

From his pocket he took out what looked like a thin aluminum container with hinges on the side. The metal was cold in your hands when you popped it open and inside was a small sketchbook with dotted paper and a set of double-sided colored pencils.

“I thought...you said something about colors the other day and how you liked them so I thought you would like it here with all the lights and maybe you could draw it? If you want?” 

“Changbin...” 

The wooden pencils were of a waxy quality; likely the kind that you could get at a corner store but that wasn’t nearly what mattered the most. 

“Thank you. I mean it. I’ll draw something.” 

Your heart always skipped a beat the second that you brought your pencil to the paper, and this was no exception. Across from you, there was another bench, identical to the one you sat on, and behind it, was a tree wrapped in pink lights. You set to work quickly, copying the picture as best as you could, not even caring for the little mistakes you could make. Changbin watched you from your shoulder, but you had barely taken notice. Once you had finished, you scribbled your signature at the bottom habitually. 

“Here, I want you to have it.” You tore out the page. “It’s a thank you.” 

He turned it over in his hand, then lightly brushed his fingertips over the way that you and woven the tree branches together and how it looked like the bench was dipped in the symphony of multi-colored lights. Beyond the tree line, you had drawn a few of the skyscrapers crowning the scene which he traced over too. 

“Wow...um, thank you.” He hid his tiny grin after shoving it in his pocket. 

Together you both sat, saying nothing, but rather taking in the scene together just as you had done at the noodle shop. It was peaceful simply existing next to another human being like this. 

Your knuckles cracked in your lap while you recalled Chan and Felix’s urgings looking over at Changbin while he too wondered around himself. 

Its not good for you. Or for them. 

The man next to you rose, “Do you want to walk around a bit more? Or--”

“--Changbin...I need to tell you something.” 

“What is it?” Under the pink glow of the string lights, his skin appeared softer. 

“There’s something--I haven’t told you something and...you deserve to know.” 

“Know...what?” 

His head titled, examining the way that your face had fallen and became twisted up in the words on your tongue. He reached out to hold both of your cold-bitten cheeks in his hands, rubbing his thumbs to soothe you. You thought to yourself, there was something oddly intimate about standing out in the open with him like this: bearing yourself as such for the whole world to see, and how the tip of your nose rubbed up against his. 

The words stung in your throat with a pain like acid. 

“During this time when we were...there was also-I was also--” 

“--I know what you’re going to stay and I want you to stop.” 

“What?” 

Changbin scoffed. "I should have guessed anyway but, it’s not my place either since we never really said exactly what this is.” 

Your voice wavered, “I’m sorry. I’ll understand--” your arms fell to your sides. “--if you don’t want to--” 

“--I said stop. Do you need me to say it again? I don’t own you or any dumb shit like that, and you don’t owe me anything either. But, I appreciate the honesty though.” Changbin pulled your forehead to rest against his, exhaling out visible breaths. “What are you going to do now?” 

Just as he had done before, he reached down, all the way down your arms to wrap them around his waist. 

“I-I don’t know. But--I do know that, being around you is...different and--” You sniffled, “--I don’t want to give that up yet.” 

“Okay then. 

You held your eyes closed, but you could hear his one and only smirk in his words. 

“I wouldn’t mind sticking around either--but--you know what this means then?” 

“What’s that?” 

“You’re coming to my show next week.” 

“Ugh, fine. I’ll go.” 

Both of your breathless giggles filled the space between you both. 

Your chest shook with a sigh, the kind that had been trapped, or maybe just held in for too long. 

His lips were cold under the array of twinkling lights, and he delved himself into you carefully with his focus on nothing other than you. The way that he kissed you was terrifyingly beautiful: as if you were the way that each of the colors from the lines you sketched intersected and became one with the other. The heat of skin and the tip of his tongue filled your mouth with his promises that he had been composing for you since he had met you, and you could finally hear it for the first time. He had never changed the way in which he had done it from that first night.

He kissed you like he loved you, and maybe he really did.  

[ashintheairlikesnow]

The Get Ready Game

CW: Young children of rescued whumpee, referenced past child abuse, referenced past emotional abuse. CW for child’s trauma response/PTSD, Overcompetent Emotional and Logistical Support Oldest Daughter X 100, unhealthy coping mechanisms

@comfy-whumpee‘s Jax Gallagher successfully saved his children (and himself) from Savannah Marcoset. But Izzy, now nearly seven, remembers her mother very well still, and knows that if her father doesn’t yet feel safe, she shouldn’t either.

So she makes a plan.

---

Izzy finds her brother playing blocks in the living room, half-heartedly building a tower while his eyes are on the cartoon show playing on the telly. She glances side to side - Dad's at therapy, only left a little bit ago. There's ages of time before he comes back, and he’ll be all in his head and distracted but probably he’ll want to lay down, so if she wants to do this, she’d better do it while he’s gone.

“Jamie?”

“Hm?” Her brother doesn’t look away from the show, but he kind of tilts his head in her direction. He’s younger than she is, only four and can’t read yet. But he doesn’t have to, she can do the reading for them both. She reads at a high level, her teacher says. Izzy practices every single night, she’s the best reader in class. 

She has to be.

“Where’s Grandpa, d’you know?”

Jamie points to the side. “In the, um, in the kitchen-”

“Sssshhhh! Quiet, don’t let him hear I asked.” Izzy puts out both hands, and now she has her brother’s interest. He loves having secrets with her, special kids-only things. It’s why this works, why she can teach him what they need to do, just in case, without him running off to tell Dad or Grandpa right away. 

She goes quiet, listening. She can hear Alfie’s voice, low, murmuring. He stays home on the days her dad has to go to therapy, so Jax can go and then come back and lay down in his room without having to worry. 

Grandpa will be talking, probably with some tea in hand, and he won’t overhear them. It’s perfect timing. Dad at therapy and Grandpa on the phone, maybe for a long time. 

“Hey, Jamie,” Izzy says, keeping her voice carefully casual. “You want to play Get Ready with me?”

Her little brother brightens. Izzy isn’t the best at his kind of play, rough-housing or throwing things around, playing Daddy-and-Baby with the big soft dolls he’s given all sorts of odd names to. Izzy doesn’t like playing baby-holding games, and besides that she doesn’t like how loud he is about it. She’s too quiet, too prone to sitting very still or whisper-talking her way through pretend games about princesses that Jamie doesn’t find interesting at all.

But this game… this game, he likes. 

He knows it’s important, even if he doesn’t know why. He knows his big sister is trusting him with big important things, and not being irritated by him or pushing him away. James scrambles up onto his feet, accidentally kicking his little tower of blocks over in the process. Both of them freeze at the crash.

Alfie’s voice rumbles through from the kitchen. “You all right in there, Jamie?”

“I’m good! I just knocked over my blocks, is all! Can I watch one more show?” Jamie pitches his voice just right, and Izzy’s proud of him. He’s learning all the tricks, and he’s doing it without having to be scared first, without it having to be something he has to learn. 

“All right, one more,” Alfie calls back, and Jamie grins, giving Izzy an exaggerated finger over his lips. Izzy grins right back, one of her top teeth growing in still, one of the bottom ones flat out missing entirely, she only lost that one three days ago, wiggling it in class until it came right out. The two of them move out of the room and down the hallway, almost tip-toeing in their bare feet, listening to Alfie’s voice, on high alert for him to make his goodbyes. 

They make it back to the bedroom Izzy still shares with her father - two twin beds lined up in there, and Alfie’s been talking about moving to get Izzy her own room, but Izzy never feels safer than waking up from a nightmare to still be able to hear her father’s gentle, deep breathing nearby. Jax’s bed has dark blue blankets and Izzy’s has a deep purple fuzzy one, plus special sheets she picked out herself with unicorns on them.

“Okay, Jamie,” Izzy says in her stage whisper. Her brother’s eyes lock on hers, hazel-brown like they all have, but Jamie has Jax’s hair color and Izzy’s short, spiky hair is the same deep chocolate brown as her mother’s, reminders she can’t escape, only try to cut off short enough that she can’t see it. “How does Get Ready start?”

Jamie’s smile widens further. He knows this one right away. “We meet in the hallway outside your room,” He says, very seriously. “Then… we come in here and find the Get Ready bag,” He answers, eyes already shifting to the closet, where it was the last time they played.

“Nope, not there.” Jamie looks at her, confused. “It’s okay, Dad did something in the closet last week so I moved the bag, just in case. I don’t think he found it, though, I hid it really well. Can you think of where I might hide it now?” She lilts her voice, slightly sing-song, like her teachers do at school. 

Jamie looks slowly around the room, taking in every detail - the window with the curtains pulled to make it dim, the two beds with the table between them, a lamp. Dresser messy on top with things tossed there - receipts, interesting rocks that Izzy has found and kept and given to her father. Then he nods, firmly, to himself more than her, and points under her bed. “It’s there.”

“Are you sure?” Izzy asks, still in teacher-voice.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because… because, because you would want to get it fast if you woke up, and you can roll under your bed for hiding from Mom,” Jamie explains. He sounds very earnest, and Izzy smiles at him to reward him giving it so much thought.

“Go look and see if you’re right.”

Jamie walks over to her bed and drops down onto his hands and knees, looking underneath. He pulls out a stuffed-full old, raggedy-looking adult-sized backpack, a faded gray that might once have been black, some old band patches and button badges still stuck around the outside. “I was right! I was right, Izzy, I found our get-ready bag!”

His voice is too loud, and Izzy shushes him quickly, closing the still-open bedroom door. Grandpa won’t like it, they’re not really supposed to close doors to shut out grown-ups, but this is too important. “Good job, Jamie!” She says in a high sotto-voice. “You are right. So, if I wake you up and I say, we have to get ready, what do we do?”

“We grab our Get Ready bag,” Jamie answers, all seriousness, patting the top of the bag gently with one small hand. “And we hide, inside the back of the closet in the big box. Then, when it’s safe, we go outside.”

“Right. How can we go outside if Mom is in the living room, though?”

Jamie’s eyes go to the window, and he points. “We go out the window,” He answers, and when she nods, he gets a little braver and adds on. “There’s-... fire escape, out there. Like stairs made of metal. We climb down with our bag. You know how to unlock the window.”

“Good. Right, I do.” She’d had to work out the trick to the window over days when no one was around her, fiddling and messing and making her fingers ache until one day, she’d managed it just right. Child proof my butt, she’d thought, but then she knew she wasn’t as child-y as everyone else her age seemed to be. 

Everyone else didn’t have to be ready for what would happen if their mother came back. Everyone else didn’t still dream about their father begging their mother to stop. Everyone else couldn’t still remember, a little bit, screaming-

Well. 

Everyone else might not have a Get Ready bag, or play this game, but she did. And when it happened, she’d be ready. Even though she knows the grown-ups wouldn’t want her to do this, they’ll be glad when it’s time, when she does what her dad would do in her place and takes James and runs. He’ll understand, if she has to, and he’ll be proud of her for being ready. He will. 

She just can’t tell him ahead of time. 

Izzy drops down into a crouch and hugs James tight. His hair smells like strawberry kids’ shampoo, just like hers does, and he’s very warm and his hands are always sticky, even when he hasn’t been touching any sticky things. “You remember very well, Jamie. Do you remember what’s in our Get Ready bag?”

She pulls back, and Jamie presses his lips together in deep thought, tapping on his chin in an overexaggerated ‘thinking’ expression. “Toothbrushes,” He says, finally. “Mine has Wally Lizard on it.”

“And?” 

“And toothpaste, the kid toothpaste.”

She’d spent weeks and weeks getting enough - putting a little extra in a baggie every night, so that her dad and grandpa wouldn’t know she was taking more than she needed. There was enough now for she and James to last a while. “Perfect. What else?”

“Ummmmm…” He trails off, sitting on the floor and thinking about it. “There’s pull-up nappies, for me for sleeping, and underpants for both of us, and pants and shirts and Franken-puppy and Unicorn, and the black-and-white bear from the zoo-”

“Paulie Panda,” Izzy corrects.

“Paulie Panda. And also Monkey George. Um um um um there are juice boxes, and Monster Munch, and Jaffa cakes, and that thing with the nuts in I don’t like, and chocolate biscuits… Aaaaand books, and…” He stops and frowns. “I don’t remember what else.”

“No, that’s good, that’s better than last time. You’re doing great.” He puffs out his chest a little in pride, and Izzy smiles, settling down to sit with him, the two of them tucked in the space between the twin beds. “There’s also hair-combs, and some shampoo and soap in a bag I nicked from the shop.”

Jamie’s eyes widen, big as saucers. “You didn’t. That is taking, Izzy-bella, and taking without paying is wrong.”

“I gave them money for it,” Izzy says, dismissive, ignoring the prickle of guilt inside her chest, too hot and sharp not to feel at least a little. “I put some of Dad’s money on the counter when nobody was looking the next day. It wasn’t really nicking, I just didn’t want him to see me get it and have to explain. But also in the bag is… this.” She digs into a front pocket and pulls out a bunch of index cards scrawled with careful child’s handwriting, numbers and letters she had spent hours and hours on. “Do you remember what these are?”

Jamie looks down at them, cocking his head, then looks up and shakes it, side to side. His hair is longer than hers is. 

“These,” Izzy says, “are the most important thing of all. These are our numbers. I’ve got about three where I remember them without even having to look, but I’ll get the rest, too. The first card has Grandpa’s phone number, and Dad’s, and it has Nana’s and Auntie Poppy and Auntie Georgia’s, too. Plus the number for Nana’s favorite shop, because her friend works there and her friend could help us get to her if she isn't home. For starters, I’ll say one that you know. We know that if-... that if Mom comes back, Grandpa will probably get-...” She takes a deep breath, tells herself to act more like a grown-up, forces down the panic and fear and worry in her chest, pictures it curled into a ball and thrown in the back of her closet to gather dust. I’m not afraid, I’m not afraid. “Grandpa could get hurt and not be able to help us. So, what do we do when we get out on the street or run away from here?”

“We, um, we find grown-ups, and we… we ask them to call 9-9-9, and tell them our names and our dad’s name, and we say, our dad is in danger and needs help. Then we tell them Nana’s name, or anybody else’s.”

“Good. Really good. What do we do if she gets us and takes us back to America?”

James swallows - this part scares him, just a little. He doesn’t remember America, not really. He was only a baby. And he remembers it being a fun place for a holiday, from the trial. But he knows Izzy is scared of America, scared enough to wake up at night crying because she dreamed about going back, and so he is, too. “We find a phone,” He says, very soft and very slow. “And we push the numbers 9, 1, 1. And that will go to people who will help us in America.”

“Good, good job, Jamie. What do we say when they pick up?” They’ve rehearsed this, over and over again. It’s the most important part of the Get Ready game. 

“I say… ‘my name is James Timothy Gallagher, and I have been ab-... abd… I have been kidnapped.’”

“Perfect. And if it were me, I would say, ‘My name is Isabella Nicole Gallagher, and I have been abducted. I am six and three quarters years old and my brother James is with me and he is four, and we are English.’ Then what?”

“We say, um, we say our… our dad is Jackson Gallagher and he has been kidnapped too, probably, and he needs help. And Savannah M-... Mark-set-”

“Marcoset,” Izzy says quietly, sounding out each syllable for him.

“Mar-co-set… is who took him. Then… we wait for help to come.”

Izzy nods, and she rifles through the flashcards, scanning over the names and places and numbers she has carefully, painstakingly, been writing down while casually asking the librarian question after question. How to call emergency services in England, America, Canada, France, Russia, and the country Georgia. Her information, to hand to people, so she won’t have to repeat herself, is copied on six cards. 

Under the flashcards, a photo of she and her dad and James that Grandpa took, at the park. It’s a photo where her dad is smiling, and he doesn’t look scared or upset or closed-off. Just happy, with them. It’s the photo she wants to have to show the police officers who she has to hope will help them. 

It’s the photo she’ll have if…

“What do we do,” She asks, and her voice is thinner, trembles just a little. “What do we do if she takes him away and we get left behind?” 

James crawls over to her in a flash and holds on, putting his arms around her waist and tucking his head under her chin. His hair tickles under her jaw. “We go all by ourselves,” He answers, in his high voice. “You and me, Izzy and Jamie. We go by ourselves, and we go find Nana.”

“Right.” Izzy closes her eyes against a rush of heat, of tears. “I-I have a card-” Her voice catches and she clears her throat. “Dusty in here,” She says, hoarsely - her grandpa says that sometimes when he’s pretending he’s not teary - and forces her racing heart to calm. Stop it. If Dad is gone, you have to be the grown-up, then. When she finally speaks, she manages to keep her voice slow, and even. No sign of her fears at all. “I have a card with Nana’s whole name and address on it, and which buses we take to see her. We can-... we can do it ourselves, all by ourselves. I know we can. But-... you have to be very good and quiet, so we don’t make anyone look at us and the bad guys can’t find us.”

“So Mom can’t find us,” Jamie whispers.

She nods, chin moving against his hair. “Right. We have to go very fast, and be very very quiet, so Mom can’t find us. But with our Get Ready bag, we have everything we need, if Dad-... if dad can’t help us. Okay, last question for our game and then we’ll be done. Do we tell Dad or Grandpa about Get Ready?”

“No.” Jamie answers right away, immediate. He knows this one. “Because, because they… might tell Mom about it.”

“Right. Even if they don’t want to tell her, she might be super mean and hurt them lots to make them. She used to hurt Dad until he would tell her things she wanted to hear, before, and she’ll be even madder now. But… if we don’t tell them about Get Ready, then they can’t tell her, right? So we can go find Nana before Mom does, and if Mom gets to Nana before we can, we have food and everything for a few days until the police officers help us.” Izzy holds him tightly, resting her chin against his hair. “I’ll take care of you, James. I promise, I won’t ever let her hurt you.”

“Dad won’t let her hurt us neither,” Jamie answers, but he likes the cuddles, and he doesn’t pull away. Izzy doesn’t hold him very often. 

“No, I know. I know he won’t. But… if he can’t stop her…” Izzy sets her jaw, closes her eyes against the memory of the bright red spots layered over older scars around her father’s neck when his big black necklace first came off. “If he can’t… I can. I just have to be very strong, and very smart, smarter than she is even. I have to be smarter than all the bad grownups.”

“And I have to be quiet and brave.”

“Right. And you’ll be very good at it. I know you will.” She squeezes him, so tightly both of them ache, and then pulls back and away, shoving the backpack back into its hiding spot, opening the bedroom door. The two of them get back to the living room just as their grandpa’s phone call finishes in the kitchen, and by the time he comes back in to ask them what they want for snacktime, James is back building his tower of blocks, and Izzy pretends she’s been on the couch with her chapter book the whole time, sitting open in her lap.

She doesn’t realize she opened it upside down until her grandpa’s gone back in the kitchen to get their snacks ready, and she flushes, embarrassed at the stupid mistake.

Still, she’s… she’s pretty sure he didn’t notice.

Every time they play, James remembers a little more without her having to tell him. Maybe… when their mom comes for them… Izzy can save Jamie - and then get help to save her father. 

And he'll be proud of her.

He will.

----

@astrobly @finder-of-rings @burtlederp @wildfaewhump @whumpiary @whump-tr0pes @moose-teeth @orchidscript @sableflynn @pretty-face-breaker @raigash @vickytokio @eatyourdamnpears

[bagelbright-tok]

Reflection

Jotaro (3) x Fem!Reader

[FINISHED FIC]

Warning(s): Violence, descriptions of life threatening injuries, descriptions of blood, life threatening experience, trauma, descriptions of pure anguish, five stages of grief, depression, angst, poor writing, I did not double-check or reread anything.

Word Count: 1946

__

I’m Sorry.

__

It'd already been several hours since Polnareff burst out of the bathroom, panicking about an enemy attack. The enemy being the man with two right hands. The man who had slaughtered Polnareff's sister. It was understandable that he wanted to go off on his own to hunt down the monster, but it wasn't smart.

Not smart at all. In the hotel, in Jotaro's and your shared room, you expressed your worry.

"I'm so nervous. I've never been so full of anxiety." You say quietly, plopping on the bed. "I'm sure he can fend for himself, but not even he knew what the enemy's ability is."

"You need to stop worrying. It's his problem. He's the one who decided to go off on his own." Jotaro said calmly, in his usual monotone voice. He removed his hat, placing it on the nightstand. "He even said when we met him that he was coming with us to get revenge for his sister."

You sigh, finally laying down on the edge of the bed, "You're right. I guess I just get attached too quick," You admit with defeat, "I'll miss him. He was like the… the comedy break in this depressing trip."

"Hm." Jotaro agreed, removing his jacket and setting it wherever he could.

Jotaro got in bed and finally you decided to place yourself in a more comfortable position on said bed. 

____ You'd been dating Jotaro for about two years now. You've had your Stand, Knight's Cups, since you had been born. It was more of a defensive than offensive, but could do damage if used correctly.

Knight's Cups could create barriers. These barriers were usually cloudy but mostly clear. You could create as many as you wanted, but the more you created the more energy you used. The same applied to size. You could make a barrier around the entirety of the world, but that would kill you before you were a quarters way done. You tend to stick to singular barriers to protect yourself or singular barriers around the enemy to capture them in a way. In some cases, you could shrink the barrier with someone inside. This would obviously crush them to death. You had no limit as to how small you could make your barriers. As with most Stands, there was the downside. Your Stand was the barrier. If the barriers were actually penetrated or cracked, it would seriously harm you.

___

The next day, likely around lunch time. You, Jotaro, Joseph, Kakyoin, and Avdol were all sitting around the table, an extra seat bothering every single one of you. It was empty. It shouldn't be an extra seat. It should be occupied by the silver haired Frenchman. Avdol was most bothered by it. It was obvious in his silence and disturbed facial expressions.

Eventually, Avdol stood, "Excuse me, I need some air." He casually left the table and went outside.

After five minutes, you spoke, "He didn't just go out to get some air, did he?" You look up and around the table.

They all shook their heads. The somber mood turned tense as everyone stood up at once and rushed out of the building. Without another word spoken, everyone split up. Jotaro went one way, Joseph went another, Kakyoin took a different route, and you went running where your gut told you to go. Eventually, you felt relieved to see Avdol's familiar red robes in the distance. You caught up with him, and became happier when you saw him tackle Polnareff. Concern quickly took over though when you saw a bullet fly by, nearly missing Polnareff.

You jumped in front of them, using Knight's Cup to create a barrier just to cover you, Avdol, and Polnareff. A bang rang out, and you felt a small throbbing pain in your stomach. It felt like someone grabbed a piece of your skin and ripped it out. But nothing had actually hit you. You focus on the cloudy figure in front of you. A cowboy with a gun. He shot at your barrier, which really did nothing but pain you.

"Does this guy even have a Stand? He's shooting a gun-" You were confused until Polnareff interrupted,

"That is his Stand!" Polnareff got up and dusted himself off.

Avdol did the same. "Lower the barrier, [Y/N]. All three of us can take him on." Avdol began to summon his Stand.

Polnareff already had Silver Chariot out. You nod, and as you were about to remove the barrier, you felt a great pain in your backside. It was different than having your barrier hit. Something was physically stabbing your backside. You groaned as your body reacted by arching. Your barrier went down.

"[Y/N]!" Both Avdol and Polnareff yelled at once. They tried to rush to you, but another bang rang out.

Everyone was caught off guard. Avdol was shot in the head. He collapsed in front of Polnareff and beside you. You tried to remain standing as the sharp object within you was removed.

"Avdol!" Polnareff yelled out, now focusing his attention on Avdol. 

You tried to attack the cowboy with a barrier, but a bullet can move faster than you. You felt the horrendous pain of a bullet entering your chest and nearly piercing your heart. The blood spilling from your back had already soaked you in its warmth. It only got warmer when your chest began to bleed as well. You couldn't stay up anymore. You fell backward, now spilling blood in the dry sand of Calcutta. The sand easily soaked it all up.

"No! [Y/N]!" Polnareff was now knelt between you and Avdol.

"Polnareff! Avdol! [Y/N]!" Kakyoin had come running. Everything happened so fast. 

Kakyoin had arrived just as Avdol and you were shot. He could do nothing. Neither could Polnareff. In just one minute, two people had died. At least, that is what was believed.

__

You couldn't protect Avdol, you only hoped for the best. But you knew you couldn't beat a bullet. Your barrier had gone down and so when you saw where Hol Horse was aiming, you put a half barrier over your heart. You couldn't protect whatever damage Hanged Man had done. If you'd known Avdol was going to get shot at, you would have put a barrier around him.

Right now, your only chance of survival was not bleeding out. Unfortunately, Polnareff and Kakyoin didn’t realize you were still alive. They ended up driving off, away from Hol Horse but being chased by J. Geil. Little had you known, you would be rotting next to Avdol’s dead corpse. Soon, hope for survival diminished. You were slowly slipping. You didn’t know how you lasted as long as you did. As things began to fuzz between reality and the great beyond, you heard the commotion of people surround you and Avdol. You could hear Joseph and Jotaro speaking.

“A-Avdol..? [Y-Y/N]..?” It was a shell shock for the old man. He groaned in distress as he looked at his friends’ dead bodies.

Jotaro was most upset. He was staring right at his girlfriend’s corpse. Blood spilled from your back and your chest. He staggered.

“J-Jotaro… You shouldn’t have to see her like this..” Joseph looked over at his grandson with pity and sorrow.

“[Y/N].” Jotaro’s usual tone was dry, almost cracking under the wave of emotions that crashed into him, toppling his strong form.

The teen’s eyes were wide, full of horror, shock, and pure sadness. She couldn’t be dead. They were just eating an hour ago. She wasn’t dead. Jotaro took a step forward, falling to his knees in front of her lifeless body. Who had done this? If he were to find out, he’d give them Hell, and then some. He gritted his teeth. Why did this have to happen? To him? To her? To [Y/N]? Couldn’t he do something? Anything?! He had one of the most powerful Stands and yet all he could do was remain still and allow the depression to roll in. How could he further this journey to save a woman he loved when he would lose another lady he loved? How would he cope? He would just have to. Do what he did best. Bottle up his emotions.

But- there was something. Something his Stand’s hearing could pick up. He was shocked now. Less negative, more positively. Was it shallow breathing? A very faint heartbeat? Yes.

“Jotaro-” Joseph tried to comfort the teen, but Jotaro wasn’t having it.

“Shut it, old man.” Jotaro swung his hand up to Joseph, signaling for him to shut up. “I hear something.”

“Jotaro, I know it can be hard, I have experienced this before, but-”

“Shut up!” Jotaro yelled, “I think- I think [Y/N]’s alive.”

“What? Jotaro are you sure?” Joseph was shocked, but was doubtful. It could be denial, or perhaps Jotaro finally lost his marbles.

“Yes. I can hear her.” Jotaro quickly responded, shuffling back to his feet and scrambling to you. “[Y/N]. [Y/N]!” He took hold of your limp form and began to shake you a bit, slightly waking you.

You groaned out of reaction to the sudden movement. You still remained relatively unconscious. Jotaro was suddenly relieved. He sighed, almost chuckling out of happiness.

“A-- Avdo-l…” You slur out, barely able to really think.

“Is Avdol alive too?” Joseph was curious as he went over to his friend’s body.

Jotaro could only hear your life. Avdol was dead. Jotaro shook his head, relieved his love was alive, but sad his friend was dead. Right then and there, they had to figure out what to do. As immoral as it may be, you alive was more important than their already dead friend. But, they agreed that Jotaro would take you to treat your wounds while Joseph would bear the burden of having to give his fallen friend a shotty funeral.

***

You would awaken, alive, not necessarily well, but alive. You quickly shot up from your laid down position, immediately regretting it as pain soared from your back to your entire body. You suck on your teeth and groan, instantly falling back down onto the ground you were laying on. Jotaro was there, waiting for you to return to the world. The black haired teen quickly ran to your side, making sure you were okay.

“Are you okay? What happened?” He began to question you, still worried.

“I- Ugh- I’m fine, Jojo. Polnareff got attacked, me and Avdol-” At the mention of his name, you turned your head around to see if he was also there, “Where is Avdol? Is he okay? He got shot. Jotaro, Avdol got shot! Is he-!?” You began to panic quickly, almost breaking into a sob just remembering the scene.

Jotaro’s shaking of his head interrupted you. It left you speechless. A singular silent gesture left you gasping for words. You moved back to sitting up. You grabbed Jotaro and pulled him into a hug. Jotaro was surprised and fell into it, unsure of how to react. You grabbed at his back, getting a grip into his black jacket, basically clawing into his backside. You choked on the sobs that hiked through your throat. For a moment, Jotaro just let you break into him. Though the edgy teen did realize that maybe hugging back would be good. Cautiously and slowly, he wrapped his arms around you, hugging you back for comfort. He didn’t apply too much pressure due to the stab wound on your back and the small bullet wound in your chest.

Jotaro could really only utter two words for you; “I’m sorry.”

___

E N D

[abluescarfonwaston]

“Damnit Lambert!” He coughed violently. Rolling over to curl in on himself. “Why didn’t you warn me you had a bad batch of tawny owl?”

He wrapped the cut on his leg. Scrapping guts off his armor. “What are you on about. It was fine.” He wanted to roll up into a ball too but the cramping was only going to get worse and they still had to get a trophy off the damn thing.

“This,” Aiden groaned pathetically. “Is not fine.

“This is what fucking tawny owl does Aiden!” The pain making him snappish. “It helps and then it wears off and you want to claw out your guts. That’s how it fucking works cause this life is a goddamn nightmare!” He stabbed between the vertebrae hard and severed its head quickly.

“Fuck what?” Aiden rolled over. Sounding extra pathetic about it which just pissed him off more honestly. “Who taught you how to make potions Lambert? Cause I need to stab them.”

 He spun on him. Knife to his throat. “Don’t ever fucking threaten them Cat.”

Aiden watched him. His slow heart beating faster than Aiden’s. The stench of the corpse filling their noses. The potion curdling their guts. “Sorry.”

He hated that. How earnestly he apologized. He sat back against a rock. Stared at the things leathery skin. “Vesemir taught us.” Aiden waited. Or maybe he just couldn’t think of a response over the pain. “He was a fencing instructor. He taught us what he remembered but. It’d been a long time since he learned.”

“Lambert?” He groaned. “If this is what all your potions are like then destroying that bag would be an act of love for you and self-defense on my part.”

“They’re not. All this bad.” He defended but honestly some of them were far worse. “Swallow’s decent.”

“Lambert?” He grunted. “You’re a great fighter. But we are never using your potions again.”

He took a sip of the freshly made Petri’s Philter. To test it out. He’d made it like Aiden had shown him but it was the first time he’d done it himself.

“You cheater! Taking a potion before we spar!” Eskel cuffed him.

“I was checking if it came out right.” An idea popped into his head. “You can use one too. Petri’s Philter. See whose works better.”

“Not a fair comparison.” Geralt pointed out. “Eskels better at signs than the rest of us.”

“What are you scared?”

Eskel eyed him unimpressed but went to grab his. Took a swig. “How do we want to do this?”

“Who can toss Geralt the furthest?” He suggested ruefully.

Geralt’s protests when unheard as Eskel launched him into the base of a snowbank with Aard.

He glared at them. Covered in snow.

“Come on Geralt! It doesn’t count if we use a different person the second time.”

“I’m going to throw both you in the river.”

“Just the loser.” Eskel argued.

“Then I don’t get to throw you in.” He grumbled crossing the courtyard to them.

“Nah I’m willing to take that bet.” They both looked at him like he was being daft.

He adjusted his glove. Don’t fail me now Aiden. Launched Geralt into the air.

He landed with an oft and a puff of white snow. Halfway up the snowbank.

He grinned as they sputtered.

“Guess it works.”

“How’d you learn this Lambert?” Vesemir asked as he copied down the last recipe Aiden had had the chance to teach him.

“Found a cache with the information.” The cache was another witcher but he wasn’t going to tell them that.

“Right.” He felt Vesemir watching him. Not believing him.

He dug his heels in. He didn’t owe the old man answers. Didn’t breathe a word as a cold wind whipped through the giant hole in the wall. He wondered if the Cats had caused that one. He didn’t ask but he wondered.

“Aiden what did you use in this necrophage oil?” He sniffed the vial walking over to him.

He perked up from his disappointment over how many less necrophages he’d killed to tell him.

He laughed full bodied and loud. Aiden wasn’t smiling when he finally managed to stop, wiping a tear from his eye.

“I thought you were just shit at fighting but that’s garbage. What’s it supposed to do? Make them itchy? Impotent? Hurt their feelings?”

“Well how do you make them then?”

Next spring he wondered how many Cats were using Vesemir’s recipes.

“Damnit.” He cursed. Shoving the broken arm piece back together. Trying to sow the gash closed.

Aiden watched him from across the fire. Lazily rotating the fish they’d bombed from the water. “You really need to just replace that mutt.”

“Fuck off pussy I don’t have the diagrams on me and were nowhere near anyone who knows how to make it.”

“Well no one’s going to be able to figure out what it was supposed to look like from that.”

He stared at the mangled and ruined armor in his hands. His fingers dug in and the thread he’d used on it snapped. It fell back apart.

He tossed it away with a frustrated scream and ran. Ran until his lungs burned and his feet ached and the exhaustion finally over powered the anger.

Aiden was asleep in his bedroll. His fish still waiting for him- although they had long gone cold. He chewed the small bones not bothering to pick them out.

A small set of papers sat rolled next to it.

He unrolled it.

Kicked Aiden.

“I can’t fucking wear this!” He shoved the diagram back to him.

“It’d be just until you could get new armor. You can’t work in a shirt and pants.”

“Cause Cat armor is a huge step up from that!”

Aiden scowled at him. “Oh cause people thinking for half a second you might be a Cat is worth dying over. Just show off your medallion and bark at them. I’m sure they’ll figure it out.”

“You’re fucking right it is!” He grabbed his medallion and bared his teeth. “I’m not a Cat.”

They had murdered his school. Killed so many. Destroyed the closest thing he had to a home. It was a shitty home and he hated it. Some days he wished they’d finished the job. Some days he was glad he had a home at all.

Aiden face shuttered closed. “Well we can’t all be Wolves Lambert.”

In the morning he was long gone. The diagrams laying in the morning dew.

He picked them up.

However upset they’d be at him for wearing them wouldn’t match how upset they’d be if he didn’t come home. Probably.

He found a leatherworker and had a set made.

“What are you wearing?” Eskel blocked his entry. “I almost shot you Lambert.”

“Glad you didn’t.” He shoved him out of the way. “I’m tired. Piss off.”

He grabbed him. “If Vesemir sees you wearing that-“

“It was this or go without armor so Fuck Off Eskel.”

Eskel studied him. Let go. “Let me warn the others at least. You know that,” He motioned to the armor. “Is going to bring back bad memories.”

“Would you preferred I died out there?”

He raised his hands placating. “Didn’t say that. Happy you’re home.”

“Yeah well that makes one of us.”

No one asked about the armor. They left a set of wolf armor diagrams for him outside his door and he spent the winter in clothing and furs.

No one why he had cat armor. He didn’t offer to explain. He wouldn’t have answered if they did. Would have made it very clear it wasn’t a topic for discussion.

But no one asked.

He sat in his room and stared at it. It looked so similar to Aiden’s. Which of course it did.

We can’t all be wolves Lambert.

No. But why you have to be a cat? Anything else would have been fine.

He gasped short and quick and barely breathing at all. His eyes losing focus. Pinned to the tree by the dead monster’s antlers.

What a shitty way to go.

“Wooh. Glad I came. Thought I smelled wet dog.”

He raised his head. Vision spinning as he did.

A cat. His cat. Aiden.

The world went dark.

“Look who returns!” The fire popped as he opened his eyes. “Holding up alright?”

“Love questions like that.” He whispered as Aiden lifted his head and raised a potion to his lips. “Holding up? Holding up what? My dick?”

“Well you certainly are one so I wouldn’t put it past you.” The vial moved away. His head was lowered onto Aiden’s thigh.

“This is shit and you know it.”

“Yeah. It is.” Aiden craned his neck upward at the stars. “I was really looking forward to yelling at you.”

“Do it you pussy.”

“It’s no fun if your injured bitch.”

“What think I can’t take it?”

“Take what? My dick?” He chewed something loudly. “Come on. Even a lone hunter can use a helping hand some time.”

“Don’t quote Vesemir at me you prick.”

“Oh I’m a prick now? What an upgrade.” A different flask came back and he drank greedily. “And I wasn’t. Guxart said that.”

“Sounds like a dick.”

“No. I like dicks Lambert. He was pussy.”

He chuckled. Which hurt. It pulled at his wounds.

“Did you know it was me?”

“Knew it was a wolf.” He dropped some of the jerky on his chest. He nibbled on it. “Hoped it was you.”

“Would you have helped? If it wasn’t.”

He was quiet while he considered. If he weren’t so tired it would piss him off. “Yeah. I would have.” He believed him. Because it was Aiden. “Glad it was you though.”

“Why?”

“Cause I missed my mangy mutt. Who else is going to teach me how to fish with bombs?”

“I started building a boat. So I could do it on the lake.” He was starting to feel hazy. Aiden’s potions sometimes had painkillers going for them. Which was nice. “At Kaer Morhen.”

“Bet it’s going to leak like a drunkard.”

“Yeah. Bet it will.” He thought of the lake and keep. “I hate that place.”

“Can’t say I understand why you go back.”

“Why do you go back?”

“Go back where? At best the cats have a traveling caravan of misery these days. I don’t visit.”

“What? But winter sucks.”

“Not going to argue with that.”

He had a brilliant idea. “Come home with me. We can sink my boat together.”

Aiden looked down at him. So sadly. He reached up for him in confusion.

“They’re assholes but the keeps pretty big so we can just avoid them. We can sleep in my room. I’ve got a lot of nice furs. It’s pretty. Please?”

“Sure Lambert. Sure.” He cupped the hand that had found his cheek. Kissed it. “Don’t worry. I won’t hold that against you in the morning.”

“If you were there maybe I could breathe. Cause.” It was really hard to keep his eyes open. His hand was heavy in Aiden’s. “The one good thing this life gave me. Was there.”

“Love you Lambert. Love you too.”

“I asked you to come with me.” He said weeks later.

“I surprised you remember. You were pretty loopy at that point. Do you remember explaining why pigeons were the best bird too? Cause that was pretty funny.”

“You’re lying.”

“You wish I was.”

He scowled at him. “I don’t remember your answer.”

“I said I wouldn’t hold you to it in the morning obviously. I’m not stupid.”

“Oh.” The horses crunched gravel as they continued on. “I did mean it. I want you to come.”

Aiden kept his eyes ahead. “We both know that doesn’t matter.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” His horse picked up speed at his unintentional request. He tugged him in front of Aiden’s, halting him. “What I want doesn’t matter?”

“When has what we wanted ever mattered Lambert?” He flinched. Eyes stuck on Aiden’s reins.  “It was very sweet of you. But the other wolves would kill me for being in twenty miles of Kaer Morhen and we both know it.”

He couldn’t look away from his dark scarred hands. “Why’d you have to be a cat?”

“Why’d you have to be a wolf?” He moved his horse so they were side by side. Took his hand. “We get three out of four seasons together. That’s pretty damn good.”

“I want more. I want more than this life.”

“Hey. Maybe if you build good enough boats we can.” His hand squeezed. “We could be the first. Retire on some big lake and fish with bombs.”

“With a little house infested with mice because we can’t convince any cats to come within ten feet of us?” He into his golden eyes and for the first time could understand why people called them beautiful.

“With a tiny little house with a leaking roof that you always curse at.”

“We’re never going to get that are we?” He didn’t comment on the tears in Aidens eyes or the blur in his own.

“No.” Aiden squeezed his hand. “But it’s a nice dream isn’t it?”

“It’s awful. Why did you make the roof leak?”

“Why did you fill it with mice?”

“Cause I want it to be real.”

“So do I.”

They clicked their horses forward. Not letting go.

“So this house. Smells like rat shit huh?”

“Yeah. And our clothing gets all mildewy cause we just throw it in the lake to wash it and forget to hang it up.”

“Ugh. I hate that.”

“Yeah it’s awful.”

“But it’s ours?”

“It’s ours.”

“I had a friend. Aiden was his name.”

“Gonna retire to your vineyard wolf?”

“I might.”

“Good for you. Make sure Dandelion writes a song about your beer gut.”

“Lambert-“

“Pardon my interruption gentlemen.” Majordomo stepped into the room. “A gentleman just arrived looking for Master Lambert. It seems urgent.”

“Lambert?” Geralt shot him a confused look.

“Hey don’t look at me! I don’t know!”

“Let’s go met your guest.”

They pushed the door open and he looked to the left. Geralt to the right.

“Who are you?” Geralt asked. He turned to the newcomer.

He exhaled. “Aiden.” When he inhaled it was like coming up for air for the first time in months.

Scarred. Hair long. Covering one eye.

Alive.

“Hey Lambert. Been a while.”

“You fucking heartless asshole!” He yelled as he lifted him off the ground in a crushing embrace. “How fucking dare you.”

“Missed you too bitch.” As he attempted to break his ribs with the force of his hug. “Nice place you got here.”

“It’s Geralt’s and it sucks.”

“Yeah.” He mumbled into his ear. Not letting go. “Our place is gonna be way nicer.”

“With rat shit and everything.”

“Yeah.”

[moxfirefly]

Video calls and confessions

Part 2

Rated Explicit (18+)

Got around to that part teo for this one shot.

Hellboy/Cam!Girl

____________________

The world going to shit wasn’t exactly how’d you planned out your Friday afternoon. This morning you had woken up with enthusiasm and a desire to treat yourself.

You’d gone out to the city, had your nails done, grabbed an obscenely priced coffee and on your way had stumbled on a museum.

A little culture never hurt nobody.

For Christ sake it was a free entry day too.

So why then, as you admired priceless art and sculptures had literal hell descended upon the evening?

Creatures. Actual monsters. The screams of the public deafening.

That had happened about half an hour ago. In your haste you had thanked you fight or flight mode to quick into flight. The shaking in your body had cause you to run into one of the exhibit rooms most cluttered with random ‘junk’ whatever this art installation had gone for it was surely not for somebody to duck behind for safety.

You checked your phone. The news was reporting the attack of the art museum. Authorities had been sent as well as the B.P.R.D...

That made you pause and clutch your phone.

If the bureau was on its way then that meant Hellboy was too.

The very notion of possibly seeing him in the flesh made your heart skip a few beats. The two of you had been communicating on and off for a while now since the private shows had started. You knew mixing work and pleasure wasn’t smart but fuck, you had it bad for this guy.

There was a sense of relief washing over you. He’d be here, he’d take care of this mess. Maybe you’d finally see him and not through a computer screen. You knew things had escalated with him although neither of you had really properly addressed it.

“Please whatever is up there, if I survive this I’m fucking telling him I’m in love with him” You whispered to yourself. This possibly couldn’t be your last day on earth.

Something screeching and something akin to a human scream startled you. You hugged your knees closer and tried not to breath loudly. Gunshots and more screams could be heard.

Then something came crashing into the installation where you were hiding. Your scream was imposible to hold in. The creature was screeching so loudly, a sound that left your ears ringing.

Adrenaline made you run out as fast as you humanly could. You heard the great strides it took to catch up to you. This was it wasn’t it? You were gonna die?

Your legs kept pushing you forward even as your muscles burned with pain. Your eyes hurt from crying and your throat felt like it was sandpaper. Something like a claw reaching for your hair made you close your eyes. There was no way you wanted to see how this ended for you.

Two shots.

Loud and so very clear, the sound coming out of left field made you trip and fall. The screening fortunately had stopped.

“Miss?! You’re safe! Hey! You gotta get out of here now!” That voice you knew all to well. You looked up and saw red and a stone hand.

“R-red...” Your voice was small, a sob catching in your throat.

“Y/N!?” He was shocked, eyes wide as he knelt in front of you.

You weren’t sure how your body moved or if he moved you but somehow you’d ended up with your arms around him sobbing into his neck. Hellboy held you tightly, whispering that you were safe, an array of cusses slipped out as he breathed heavily.

The knowledge that you were here, if he’d been a millisecond too late, all crashed down on him as he picked you up and carried you to safety.

You could’ve died, was all that ran through his head.

You’re alive, was all that ran through yours.

_______________

One helicopter ride, a medical exam and a shower later you found yourself at the home base of the B.P.R.D. A nice young woman by the name of Alice had loaned you some clothes and had taken you to Hellboy’s room to wait. A debriefing was happening and all you could do was sit tight.

You resolved to canceling all your cam shows for the week stating you had fallen terribly ill. There was no way you could work, your hands were still shaking as you typed out the post and notified your one on one shows. It felt like hours as you sat on the couch, you had looked around at his room, seeing and array of personal items that made up his personality.

Such a big part of you often dreamt about this but your nerves had you glued to your spot.

The door opened and Hellboy came barreling in like a tornado. You flinched and bit too hard on your already chewed off nail, so much for that manicure.

“I’m so sorry, I wanted to leave that stupid meeting but it’s fucking mandatory because Daimio thinks it’s necessary, asshole that guy I tell ya-“ He took in your state, the still slight tremble in your hands, the few scrapes here and there. You looked small and scared and it absolutely destroyed him.

In his silence he made his way towards the coffee table and sat in front of you. “You know I often fantasized what it be like to see you in the flesh, this wasn’t how it usually went I promise” He smiled and for the first time in this piss filled day, so did you.

“How would it go?” You asked softly.

“Some mood light, a little wine maybe some music” The two of you chuckled. Your chuckles quickly dissolved in you trying to hold back your tears.

You were almost killed tonight, the shock would take some time to subside. “Hey hey kid, it’s ok, I’ve got you. Ain’t nothing gonna happen to you on my watch” Hellboy’s flesh hand rested on your knees.

You leaned forward and rested your forehead on his shoulder. “...When I read you guys were sent out, I really got excited that I’d finally see you” You felt his flesh hand stroke your hair.

“I’m in love with you” You blurted out, his hand going to still. “I said, if I’m making it out of this alive I’m telling him, so I’m telling you...” You looked up at him, e/c meeting his golden ones.

“I-Im not dancing around this no more, I’m tired of pretending that what’s been going on isn’t just some work thing that I do, fuck, I love you I really do and I think you do too” Your mouth want dry again, the scratchy sensation making you swallow.

Hellboy searched out your eyes, something in his head was going a mile a minute. Was he searching for a lie? Something disingenuous?

That all died when he lunged forward and kissed you.

A kiss that truly and utterly left no worry.

You were kissing Hellboy. You were gripping Hellboy by the scruff of his shirt. The way his lips molded against yours, the abnormal warmth to them, the softness to them, the roughness of his scruff.

Pulling back for air felt obligated but he’d insisted by pressing the stumps of his horns against your forehead. “Wow...that’s...so much better than I could’ve imagined” He was star struck in a way and it honest to god made you laugh.

The days events took a back seat for now you wanted to take in the being before you. You scanned everything you normally did while on cam with him. Your hands explored his face, running across scars and hair.

Then you remembered what lay to his right and your heart raced.

You gripped his stone hand, fascinated by the texture of stone, how he held your hand with so much regard to his strength. The patterns, the markings everything has you entranced.

“Extraordinary” Was all you could muster as you rubbed on what would be the inside f his wrist. “I’m sorry, is this weirding you out?” You looked at Hellboy only to find him grinning. “Having a beautiful girl touch me? Yes it’s completely weirding me out” He mocked and you couldn’t help but playfully shove him.

“God I need a beer, can we...?” He was leaning over toward the mini fridge next to the couch and pulling said drinks out. “Read my mind, beautiful” He offered one towards you.

This morning you were going about a normal routine, and now after a near death experience you were in the room of a man you had been falling in love with for months. The twist and turns of life.

Around round 3 you’d excused yourself to use the bathroom. As you washed your hands and saw your normal pristine face a little worn down from the stressful events you frowned.

But there you stood in Hellboy’s bathroom. Surrounded by things all him. The tips of your fingers ran through a brush of his. This was a reality right now.

You stepped out and caught him shrugging off his coat. Busying your thumbnail again at your teeth you watched his now visible arms flex with the movements.

“All good?” He smiled leaning against the dresser.

There was a pregnant pause in which the two of you merely just ogled one another from across the bed.

You moved first.

You walked over the bed and stood on it, you reached out a hand that he took without hesitation and with the extra height from the bed you met in a heated kiss face to face. You wrapped your arms around his neck, you felt his around your hips.

In a wordless haste you yanked at his black T-shirt and busied yourself with taking off yours. He watched mesmerized, as always, the revealing of your skin.

The image before you though, god you wanted to scream.

Hellboy undoing his belt and swiftly yanking the whole thing out of the belt loops without breaking eye contact. Off were your pants, and on was him as he took you down on the bed.

It was a haze, breathless kisses and chants of desire. He one handed the button of your jeans and his own. The brief separation to take the offending items off had the two of you giggling almost. In record time he was back on you and you welcomed it with a ferocity to your kisses. Tongue slipping into his mouth, you swallowed a groan of his that vibrated all the way to your cunt.

He was here, you were here. Physically.

You grinned as he trailed kisses over both your covered breast. “Take-fuck-take it off please, now right now” You felt the air leave your lungs when he simply broke the bra in half and met his reward, two beautifully round breasts he had craved more than any meal. Hellboy pressed his face between them and inhaled before leaving a series of bites and marks. Each time he bit down your raised your hips in search of friction.

The heaviness in the air, the warmth of him lapping and sucking at your breast. The heated tongue wrapping around a nipple. Hellboy devoured you, and if your breast had him like this...

“Baby please, wanna touch you too” Your hands ran down his back, sharp nails leaving a path. Hellboy shuddered as he left a nipple with a loud pop. “Go on, I’m all yours” That very comment sent a gush of heat and you bit your lip to hold a moan in.

You nudged him to lay on his back and you climbed on top of him. Hands running over your body, the feeling of that stone hand gently cupping your rear was enough to make you grind down on him with purpose.

“I promised you something every time we spoke, you remember what that was?” You rubbed yourself on him as you began to trail down his body. Hellboy’s eyes were fogged with lust. “Oh, you remember” You kissed his stomach, nails scratching his sides before hooking into the waistband of his underwear.

He was going to have a stroke.

Hellboy watched you slide his underwear down. Eyes hungry and mouth engulfing his cock. He bucked up without meaning to but you caught most of the onslaught by closing up your throat. A minor choke and you were back on track.

Fuck he was big and thick, you did your best swallowing as much as possible before settling the rest with your hand to jerk. The gut punched groan that left him egging you on. He saw your head bob, the way your lips stretched around his length, the blissed out look as you sucked earnestly. “Shit shit, you look beautiful” Hellboy reached a left hand across your cheek.

Letting him go with a breathy inhale, spit on your chin you jerked him lazily.

He was putting this look away for a rainy day. You had no right looking so utterly debauched and perfect.

“C’mere and kiss me, beautiful” Hellboy whispered softly and you obeyed crawling on him to meet him in a sensual slow lip lock.

Underwear gone, or more so also ripped apart. You were now on top of him about to guide his cock into your drenched hole. The initial burn was actually delicious, that breach between pain and pleasure sending a delightful shock through your body. Once fully seated on him you reveled in stretch and burn. “God this is, fuck I-“ You moaned as you tested with a sway of your hips, he was hitting your spot perfectly. You rested your hands on his chest and he gripped your waist.

Hellboy was gone, the sight of you riding him, lost in your pleasure caused by him nevertheless. It was the most beautiful thing he’d ever see. Lost to it all you fell forwards, burying your face in his neck. Your impending release had you stuttering your hips. “I got you baby, I got you” He muttered against your ear. You moaned as he held you, hips pistoning upwards to drive that orgasm out of you.

It crashed something fierce, running all over your body and coming out as a scream against his neck. You felt limp as a noodle but held onto him as he fucked his way through yours. When he came he yanked another orgasm out of you along with his.

The two of you laid there, a mess of limbs clutching at each other. Hearts racing, lungs trying to catch up.

Exhaustion won. You fell a sleep on Hellboy, still inside of you, his mouth against your temple.

There was no turning back now.

[hatterstan-shameblog]

For the headcanon thing

I think Hatter likes to watch bad movies. Like the really bad ones. The ones that make you roll your eyes/laugh/cry at every single thing about it, doesn't matter if it's plot or acting. But you know what he loves more than watching those awful movies alone?

Watching them with someone else.

"hey, Mori, wanna watch a movie?"

"...no."

"c'mon, you'll like this one."

"no, I won't."

"...no, you won't. But I will enjoy your presence. C'mon bro, do it for the sake of bonding time."

"*sigh* fine..."

(inspired by real life events)

💕 Sleepover 💕

Rating: PG13 for language and alcohol consumption

Relationship: Takeru (Hatter)/Aguni

Tags: banter, friendly insults, Just Guys Being Dudes, drinking, swearing, love confessions (sort of), They Talk A Big Game But The Love Is There

Bangbangbangbangbang!

“Mori!”

Bangbangbangbangbang!

“Moooooori, let me iiiiiiiiiin!”

Clunk!

Click!

Creeeeeeaaaaaak!

Aguni opens his apartment door, wincing at the slap of summer heat that greets him as he does.

“C’mon man,” an overheated and impatient Takeru implores, “it’s miserable out here!”

“You bring me samosas,” Aguni asks, crossing his arms across his chest, “Because I’m not letting you in without my samosas.”

Takeru’s face twists into a look of shocked indignation.

“Would you really leave me—your best friend on this beautiful green Earth—to swelter and die on your doorstep in this blazing summer heat…all because I forgot the samosas?”

Aguni considers.

“No. I’d ask you to swelter and die in the parking lot. Neighbors’ll kick up a fuss if you block the stairwell.”

“Well it’s a good thing I got two orders this time,” Takeru shakes the bag enticingly, “so we don’t even have to share.”

“Someone’s splashing out,” Aguni murmurs, taking the bag from Takeru’s outstretched hand and standing aside so the man can enter his home, “Don’t suppose there’s a reason for all this…”

“Maybe I just wanted to be nice,” Takeru says flippantly, toeing off his shoes, “a little ‘thank you’ for welcoming me into your home.”

Aguni carries the bag of food over to his coffee table and sets it down, being careful not to disturb the place settings he had so thoughtfully arranged. Two plates, two spoons, two glasses of water—all neatly placed in the center of his new, sage-green placemats.

Hopefully nobody spills curry on them.

“You brought one of your weird movies again, didn’t you?”

Takeru rolls his eyes. Shoving his arm into his messenger bag, he rummages around its contents for a moment before yanking a dark, thin rectangle and holding it up for Aguni to examine.

“The 1977 horror classic, House,” he explains with an edge of exasperation, “is a critically-acclaimed work of art that has been inspiring both film fanatics and the average man for nearly half a century.”

“Straight from the back of the box,” Aguni mumbles, opening the stapled-shut paper bag and peeking at the containers inside, “Anyways, I thought you didn’t like scary movies.”

Takeru scoffs.

“Not sure what gave you that idea,” Takeru says, shoving his feet into his slippers—yes, his slippers, black velvet with red-and-gold dragons embroidered on the front because ‘I’m here enough to warrant my own damn slippers’ and ‘these are fucking awesome,’ “We saw Hereditary in the theater!”

“And you were scared the whole time,” Aguni points out, gingerly lifting their food out of the bag and arranging the containers on their respective plates, “You had to sleep with the lights on for a week. Screwed up your cat’s sleep schedule and everything.”

Takeru swans his way over to Aguni’s refrigerator and opens it, more or less sticking his whole head inside to examine its (admittedly meager) offerings.

“It’s not my fault that Ziggy is such a smart, beautiful boy who knows what ‘lights out’ means. And besides,” Takeru says while examining the bottle of white wine Aguni had put in to chill, “I’ll be staying here tonight, so it won’t be an issue.”

“So the cat gets to sleep, but I don’t?”

“You, my dear, get a evening of my company, complete with scintillating conversation, cultural enrichment, and—as we have already established—your very own order of samosas,” Takeru calls out from the kitchen, rummaging for a suitable pair of wine glasses, “And besides, I plan on sleeping deeply and comfortably knowing that any and all monsters would no doubt eat you first, giving me ample opportunity to flee the scene…”

Aguni lifts the lid off his curry, admiring the rich yellow hue and inhaling its bold spices. There are even a few extra chilis lying on top, which is a lovely surprise.

Takeru arrives at the table, glasses in one hand and wine in the other. He gives the spread a discerning once-over and then a nod of apparent approval.

“Anyways,” Takeru says, twisting off the top of the wine bottle (not without giving Aguni a look of distaste as he does it), “I’m a bit disappointed in you, Mori-chan. I thought you’d fight me more on this one…”

“It’s a losing battle,” Aguni concedes, sitting himself down in his usual spot and turning on the television, “I have too many brain cells and not enough patience to go through the usual theatrics.”

Takeru hands him a generously-full wine glass—not as full as his own, of course, but still more than what the average person might pour.

“This’ll help the brain cell problem,” he says with an over-enthusiastic smile, “probably the patience, too. Wine makes you sentimental.”

“Hmph.”

“See? It’s already working.”

“Yeah, well,” Aguni grumbles, taking a small sip of his beverage, “better get the movie started before I change my mind.”

Takeru begins his usual indignant grumbling as he fumbles with the DVD player. Aguni could help him, but, frankly, it’s entertaining to watch his friend struggle with the simple electronic setup.

When Takeru manages to get the tray open, he gives a small cheer of victory. Aguni stifles a smirk.

Hopefully the movie is this much fun.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

“Mori. Hey, Mori-chan.”

Aguni rolls his eyes, and then himself onto his side to face Takeru.

“What,” he grumbles, squinting in the dark as he tries to make out the other mans’ shape, “piano thing still got you upset?”

“It ate her fingers, Mori,” Takeru whisper-shouts, “and then it got the rest of her too! That’s enough to upset anyone!”

“It wasn’t even that scary,” Aguni mentions, shimmying his shoulders in order to find a more comfortable spot on his futon, “besides, you don’t even play piano, so you don’t have to worry.”

Takeru is silent for a moment—a blessed, beautiful moment.

“I guess you’re right,” he says after his brief contemplation, “but that’s not the only thing on my mind.”

“I’m guessing ‘sleep’ isn’t one of ‘em?”

Takeru scoffs. There’s a shuffling and fluttering sound from his neighboring futon as he turns to face his disgruntled companion.

“In due time,” Takeru says, “what plagues me now is more of a philosophical question.”

Aguni sighs.

“Remember the part where that guy got turned into a pile of bananas?”

“Yeah,” Aguni responds, “that was weird.”

“What if that happened to me,” Takeru asks, sounding genuinely concerned, “would I turn into a pile of bananas, or would I be a different kind of fruit?”

Oh, you’re different alright, Aguni thinks to himself, but he knows better than to say that out loud. Takeru’s using his ‘this is going to keep me up all night unless you give me a good answer’ voice, so Aguni starts thinking about how best to answer.

“I think you’d be melons,” Takeru concludes, “yeah…definitely melons.”

“Because of my round head and lack of hair?”

“No,” Takeru snaps, “well, that wasn’t my original thinking.”

Aguni subtly checks his phone—half-past one o’clock in the morning, too late to send Takeru home on a train to ask his cat these burning questions instead of him.

“Why,” Aguni asks, “do you think I’d be melons?”

“Well, like you, melons are strong and tough on the outside. Make a nice thud sound when you smack ‘em.”

“So do I,” Aguni mentions, “if you get the right spot. But I also hit back, so that’s not very melon-y, is it?”

“Hm. I suppose not. But,” Takeru says, “where you really start to resemble the melon is on the inside.”

“Inside, huh?”

“Yeah,” Takeru considers for a moment, “underneath all that tough rind, melons are soft. Sweet, too. Nothing fancy, they’re not trying to prove anything, they’re just…good. Like you.”

Aguni hadn’t been expecting something so…sentimental. It’s a touching departure from their usual quips and playful jabs, and it makes something warm and kind of familiar bubble up in Aguni’s heart.

“And also,” Takeru tacks on, “they’re green. And green is your favorite color! So it’s perfect.”

“I think you’d be a strawberry,” Aguni says after a beat.

“A strawberry? You mean only one?”

“Only one,” Aguni confirms, “but one of those fancy designer ones, the kind they grow in those hydroponic farms and sell in department stores for thousands of yen.”

“I heard about a guy who got murdered at one of those places,” Takeru says, “some yakuza guy who was selling weed on the side, someone put a hit out on him and used the body for fertilizer.”

“That’s…disturbing,” Aguni replies, “but that’s beside the point. Don’t you want to know why I think you’d be a single strawberry?”

“Is it because they’re red?”

“Sort of,” Aguni says, “Got a lot of seeds, too. Get stuck in your teeth pretty easily, if you’re not careful.”

“I am rather tenacious.”

“You are.”

Aguni considers his next words carefully. His relationship with Takeru is…complicated, and uncertain, and if anyone ever asked him what they ‘are’ he wouldn’t know how to answer.

“Strawberries are sweet. They’re sour, too. You’d know the flavor anywhere. And you…”

He pauses. Takeru, for once, doesn’t try to fill the silence with his own voice.

“…Well, those designer strawberries are all one-of-a-kind, just like you. So that’s why there’s one one,” he says slowly, “and I like strawberries. Might even, uh…love ‘em.”

“Oh, Mori…”

Something flops onto Aguni’s blanket—once, twice, and ah, it’s Takeru’s hand, and he’s looking for something. Aguni slips his arm from under the covers and covers Takeru’s hand with his own. This is apparently what Takeru had been searching for, because he pulls Aguni’s hand closer to himself.

“You know,” Takeru says, “now that you mention it, I think I might love melon, too.”

Aguni feels lips against the back of his hand—a soft kiss, gentle, a reassurance as much as an act of affection—and he’s glad for the dark of night that hides the blush of his cheeks.

“I feel better now,” Takeru announces, giving Aguni’s hand a light squeeze, “In fact, I think I’m falling asleep as we speak…”

“Hmm,” Aguni hums in agreement.

He’s still holding Takeru’s hand, and Takeru, his—neither seem too keen on letting go, at least, not for now.