#this is kind of risky to main tag but whatever

[egotistic-queer]

hi mw fans that follow me and are my moots how would you feel if i posted drawing references on my takes of the tulpar crew yap yap yap something about shape language and just how i draw them all (i was analyzing how exactly i draw them all today in class to get a better handle on how i draw them all)

[toruro]

— ✧ bark (like a dog)

a part of new rules ... a svt performance unit x mafia au series !

description. kwon soonyoung is hot. he's fucking smoking, but also painfully out of your reach—being your father's main hitman assistant means that, by the books, he's pretty much off limits. but then again, when did silly stuff like rules ever stop you?

genre. smut (18+), brief angst, mafia au

warnings/tags: PLEASE READ! mentions of murder & death bc hoshi is a hitman, descriptions of blood, reader is daughter of mafia boss, mean dom hoshi, gun play (unloaded), or4l (m receiving), jealousy, sp4nking, breath control, praise kink, blindfolds, th1gh r1iding, pet names (princess, angel, good girl), consent is SEXY

w/c: 7.3k

a/n: thank u @gyuswhore for proofreading hehe ... anyways this is like smut w a hint of plot. sorry not sorry my head's been so full of him

You don’t get nervous.

Not when you overhear your father talking about some risky new plans and not when you go out and know there’s a target on your back.

Not when you snuck out your apartment tonight without your bodyguard to just pop into the galleria that you heard some of your father’s men talking about. Which, by the way, you totally didn’t do because one of them mentioned Kwon Soonyoung being there. Yeah. Totally not.

You weren’t nervous when you waltz into the galleria, in some pretty dress pants and a cute black t-shirt that may or may not have been showing a lot more skin than your father likes. The night was going great, honestly. Fantastic, even.

Until your eyes landed on the very reason you even decided to come here. Kwon Soonyoung.

Again, you don’t get nervous. It’s simply not in your DNA.

So why does having this man next to you make your vision bleary and heart heavy?

“Did you like it?” you murmur, toeing at the grass beneath you with bare feet. You’re at your father’s house now. Soonyoung caught sight of you after you caught sight of him laughing with another woman, which totally shouldn’t have bothered you but you felt green boil in your stomach anyways.

And you watched her lead him into some other hallway with a man and then Soonyoung was gone. He was doing whatever he does, you know? You don’t want to pry into his work, but seeing as he’s your father’s favorite man, it’s kind of hard to avoid the truth.

Soonyoung was definitely just doing his job. Talked to the woman, peppered a few kisses on her cheek to butter her up, got her to introduce to a man who was maybe probably definitely his target, and then he walked out again, fixing his coat over his shoulders as he returned alone. He took you home after that.

You squirm just at the thought. Nightly zephyrs pinch at your skin as you stand in the backyard, but as you feel Soonyoung’s gaze burn into the back of your head, your body warms nonetheless.

Even turned away from him, you can practically feel the way his eyebrow cocks up. “Like what?”

You scoff and roll your eyes even though you know he can’t see you. Oh well, he probably knows anyway. “You know what I’m talking about.”

“I’m not sure I do, angel,” he replies without hesitation. Your mind races at the nickname, not because you think it’s a term of endearment, but because you’re almost sure that he’s mocking you. Angel. Fuck, everyone knows you’re anything but a damn angel, and you’d be an idiot to think Soonyoung meant anything other than to belittle you right now.

“Sure,” you mutter dryly, running one hand down your face, before turning around to face him. Kwon Soonyoung is hot, as always, with his dark messy hair falling right over his eyebrows, one of which has a little slit carved into the edge, his plump lips and sharp eyes that watch you carefully.

Even under the dim light of the night sky, he seems to glow beneath the moon.

“Are you going to be all pouty like this for the rest of the night?” When you don’t respond, he huffs loudly. You don’t want him to be annoyed with you, but you cross your arms over your chest and press your feet into the soil stubbornly anyways. “Am I going to have to call Taehyun to drive you home?”

“What, you don’t want to bother doing that yourself?” you snap. Fuck, you don’t even know why you said that. It isn’t Soonyoung’s job to take care of you in any way. Sure he indirectly does that by heeding your father’s order—by killing off any threats when they pop up, but nowhere in his title’s description does it say he needs to take you home, to coddle you, to watch over you.

“You want me to take you home?” he asks, and you want to fucking strangle him because if it wasn’t painfully obvious, then to make it clear once more, yeah you want him to take you home. You want him to pull you to his car and press a hand on your thigh and then creep it up your legs until your squirming under his touch and—

You need to stop getting ahead of yourself. Your relationship is—god, you want to say it’s professional, but you can’t even call it that. You and Kwon Soonyoung, your relationship is somehow both less and more than professional.

It’s so intimate—he’s your father’s most loyal worker, he’d go to any lengths to keep your family, to keep you, safe. And yet, even after you’ve seen the blood on his clothes and the imprint of his gun in his pants, he’s a stranger.

Not because you don’t know his favorite color, or because he doesn’t know what kind of food you like, but because even as a million thoughts run through your head, you’re pretty sure he can’t figure out a single one of them.

Finally, you speak up, reverting the topic without answering his question. “Do you really not know what I’m talking about?” Your voice is smaller this time.

“Are you trying to play a guessing game with me?”

Your glare hardens on him. “Fuck you,” you spit out, and Soonyoung puts his hands up in a surrendering motion. “The galleria—did you have fun? Did you like it?”

“Well angel, I hate to break it to you but I was just doing my job. Not that you would know, since you’ve never had to work a damn day in your life, but I don’t necessarily love my job. So if that’s what you want to know, then I guess you have your answer.”

“And with her? Did you—”

“What are you talking about?” he cuts you off harshly, and you’re slightly taken aback by the way his voice booms louder.

“Didn’t know kissing pretty women was a part of your job,” you murmur gruffly before finally making your way to the door that leads back into the house.

“Where’re you going?”

“I also didn’t know that keeping track of where I’m going was a part of your job.”

“You’re not making any damn sense right now, I hope you know that.”

Slipping on some socks, you go on, “Is listening to me a part of your job too? If not, I suggest you just leave me alone and—”

“God, what the hell are you goin’ on about, with all this job shit? Since when did you care about what I do to get a job done?”

“It doesn’t matter anyways,” you conclude, going to open the door before Soonyoung’s hand stops you.

“Stop being a brat,” he hisses, causing you to press your lips together tightly.

“I am not being a brat,” you scoff, ripping your arm away from him. “If anything, you’re the attention seeker who—”

“Excuse me? I’m sorry, attention seeker?”

“Well you were basically throwing yourself at that woman and—” Your breath hitches when you realize what you’ve just said, and you slap a hand over your mouth as you look down.

Soonyoung clicks his tongue, but it’s not as disappointed as you except … if anything, he sounds … sorry. “What do you want from me? You know it’s my job.”

You scoff, shoving your head in your hands out of humiliation. “I think you know exactly what I want from you,” you mutter. Now you’re not really sure what you’re expecting from Soonyoung but it’s definitely not his strong hand on your wrists, forcing you to look up at him.

“Do you want me to take you home or not?”

You look at him, mortified at the bluntness of his suggestion.

“I—what?”

“Look, you’re not very discreet and—”

“Oh my god, stop talking. I need to go and—”

Soonyoung grabs your face. It’s gentle, but his touch is firm and his eyes don’t break away from yours for a moment. His fingers press into the plush of your cheeks, and there’s a both nerve-wracking and alluring aura to it.

“Let’s take you home, or I tell your father where you were last night. How you left your cozy little apartment without your dear Mr. Choi who, if I recall, is supposed to accompany you wherever you go.”

You gape at him—there is no way he’s threatening you right now. You blink once, and then twice, and Soonyoung’s gaze remains unwavering.

Fuck.

Which is how you find yourself seated patiently on Soonyoung’s couch, thighs pressed together and hands on your knees cutely as you watch him fill up a glass of water. You wonder if he can hear the beating of your heart.

If he can, he doesn’t comment on it, instead breaking the silence when he walks over to you, “I hope you know what you’re signing yourself up for.”

You grin immediately. “Some fun, of course,” you reply, mentally marveling at your own wit.

Soonyoung fucking laughs at you. His eyes are peering down at you carefully as he juts the glass of water to you, and he doesn’t have to say anything for you to know that you should just take the damn glass and drink.

His gaze doesn’t waver when you bring the glass up to your lips, slowly but surely downing all its contents and letting the cool water attempt to put out the flames that burn in your stomach. “Good job,” he murmurs, smoothing one hand over your head when you place the glass on his coffee table, the simple but impactful words sending shivers down your spine.

Making the risky decision to test your luck once more, you bat your lashes and bring your arms closer together in front of you so that your tits bunch up, giving Soonyoung a perfect view from above. “So? When’s the fun gonna start?”

Something in his eyes darkens, but you choose to ignore it as Soonyoung slips his dark work coat off, letting it fall behind him on the coffee table. What follows is a heavy thud and clank and your stomach churns at the thought of what caused such a sound.

“Listen,” Soonyoung says, his voice firm but not as demeaning as before. “I need to know where your head is at.” he pauses.

You pout and then raise a challenging brow. “You don’t think I can handle it?”

Soonyoung chuckles, and reaches back for his coat, rummaging through the inner pockets for a moment as your blood runs cold in realization. He unsheathes a heavy black gun from the dark fabric, holding it close to his dress shirt as he smooths a finger over the barrel.

You try to move your fingers but they’re frozen in place as he watches the look on your face contort into some odd look of awe.

“Let me rephrase that,” Soonyoung murmurs. “I need to know how far you’re willing to go.”

The air is stuck in your throat and your lungs squeeze and writhe for some semblance of sanity, but the way his thick fingers caress the heavy metal of the gun has your vision going blurry. He’s tracing over all the dips, the curves, the crevices, and you can only imagine what it’ll feel like if you had the cool, heavy, pistol pressed against your skin while Soonyoung’s fingers are all over you.

Your eyes are clouded, and he stills for a moment, subtly sliding the gun past his side and hiding it behind his back with one hand, using the other to grab your chin and tilt your head so you’re craning your neck to look up at him.

“So be honest with me right now.”

He doesn’t say it, but you know what he’s asking for. You don’t have to think about your answer, not one bit, and that’s because through everything, you trust Soonyoung. You trust him with your life, and you trust him with more.

“I’m willing to do whatever you want,” you tell him almost immediately. There’s no hesitation, no apprehension—Soonyoung knows when he looks you in the eye and he swears he feels his heart grow ten times in his chest when your pupils dilate.

Slowly, he brings his hand from his back to the front, the grip of the gun pressing back against his lower abdomen as he squeezes your cheeks together with his other hand. Your lips bunch together in a pucker and he pinches the bottom lip for a moment, rubbing the pads of his fingers against the drool that slides down his chin.

“That’s a pretty bold statement, princess,” he finally says, a sharp clicking sound resonating through the room when he shifts the gun in his hand.

“I can take it,” you insist through squished lips, looking up at Soonyoung with some kind of determination that boils his blood with pure passion.

“You’re confident …” he mutters, holding the gun close to your cheek, pressing the cold metal against your warm skin. You can’t be sure if action helps you cool down or only heats you up anymore, but a wanton whimper escapes your lips and suddenly you have your answer.

Soonyoung watches how you swallow at the contact, fingers quivering by your side and he lets his hand relax for a second, holding the gun by his side. “It’s unloaded.”

“I-I wouldn’t care either way,” you mumble, slightly annoyed that Soonyoung dropped his hand. “I trust you.”

Soonyoung smiles, letting go of your cheeks and instead gripping the back of your neck, running his thumb up and down your collarbone. “It’s okay to be scared, angel. Two taps to stop,” he tells you, pointing at his wrist.

You roll your eyes tentatively, unsure if it’s the right move. When Soonyoung quickly presses the muzzle against your lips, you deduct that rolling your eyes was, in fact, the best thing you could have done.

“You’ve got some nerve,” he mutters, feigning discontent as he tries to ignore the way his dick twitches in his work pants when you part your mouth and let the gun sink further into your mouth.

The taste of metal on your tongue is unfamiliar, and frankly the hardness of the gun is quite uncomfortable but when you press your tongue against the base of the barrel, and swirl it over the sides, you imagine it’s Soonyoung’s cock in your mouth instead.

He’s steadying you with his hand pressed at your neck, holding the gun at an angle above you without moving it. The sight of you sucking and struggling, drool dripping down your chin and skin flushing—he’s in heaven he swears.

Cute eyes looking up at him with such desperation, pleading with him silently because you can’t speak—not with the way his gun is stuffed between your pretty lips. “Fuck, how does it feel princess?” he groans at just the image alone.

You’re silent, because of course, how could you say a thing. The only sounds that bounce off the walls are the filthy slurping of your tongue and the hollowing of your cheeks, tears peeking from your waterline as Soonyoung presses the gun further down your mouth, the now slick barrel sliding easily past your teeth.

Your jaw aches and you gag as you adjust to the feeling, but the reality of it all starts to hit you, and it’s dizzying. Soonyoung—fuck, he’s here in front of you with his gun shoved down your throat and you’re looking up at him like he has all the answers to the universe and more.

And more is exactly what you want, and Soonyoung can tell because even as squeaks erupt from your throat and your fingers tremble when they fly up and grip at his thigh, you don’t pull away and you don’t tap out.

It’s worrying for a moment, because here you are with tears streaming down your cheeks but he can hear your silent pleas of don’t stop, please, please, please, don’t stop, and he feels he might go insane at the thought that you’re just as deranged as him.

“So pretty,” he praises, and you press your lips down and whine at the way the words have your cunt throbbing. Slowly, Soonyoung starts to pull the gun out of your mouth, your jaw going slack at the feeling of your tongue being free, but your face is on fire and you just need to do more.

You continue to lap against the gun, swirling it over the circular muzzle when he’s just about pulled it out all the way, not breaking eye contact with Soonyoung for even a moment. It’s addicting, the way he watches you—bottom lip lodged between his own teeth and jaw clenched tight as he imagines it’s his cock inside your mouth instead.

“God fuck, you’re insane,” he says when you kiss the side of the barrel one last time before he carefully places the pistol behind him. For the first time tonight (and ever, for that matter), Soonyoung kisses you. He grabs your warm face and leans down to smash his lips against your swollen, tired mouth.

You’re fatigued already, he can tell, and takes this as his chance to press his tongue against yours and explore the very mouth that sucked against his gun just moments earlier. He can still taste the metal on your tongue, letting your lips melt together as one for just a moment before pulling away.

He can tell there’s a complaint threatening to leave your lips, but he makes sure it shrivels when he shoots you a knowing look. “You deserve a reward, don’t you think? Did s’good for me …”

You nod eagerly, and Soonyoung is thoroughly surprised by how quickly you’ve bounced back, trailing his fingers down from your face to your waist, pulling you up to stand on your feet. Your legs are wobbly and for a moment, you stumble forward but Soonyoung catches you, his arm steadily belted around your hips.

“Already done?” he asks, but it’s more of a tease than anything. Still, you take it as a challenge and shake your head as he leads you to his bedroom. It’s dimly lit, only the moon through the window and its reflection against a mirror leading you the way to his bed as he hops on, laying back as you stand by the foot of the bed.

He raises a brow. “What are you waiting for? Strip.”

“W-what?”

Soonyoung is still fully clothed, legs spread slightly as he hikes one knee up and watches you expectantly. “Princess,” he coos, “I said strip.”

You shudder at the request when it finally sinks in, and you quickly follow by pushing your pants down and pulling your shirt off your head, leaving you completely topless, your lower half donned with nothing but a set of black satin panties.

Soonyoung swears his heart stops at the sight, and just as you’re about to push them down, he holds his hand out. “Leave them on, come here.”

He doesn’t have to ask you twice this time, and you crawl onto the foot of the bed before making your way in between his legs, only stopping when Soonyoung places his heavy hands on your shoulders and smoothes them down your bare arms.

You sigh contently at the contact, instinctively shooting one hand between your legs to rub at the growing ache. You hardly make it though, Soonyoung’s hand shooting out and stopping your wrist halfway. “Thought you wanted a reward? Getting ahead of yourself, huh …”

You shake your head vehemently. “N-no—I jus’—need something, need you, Soonyoung,” you confess, leaning forward in hopes that he’ll meet you halfway for a kiss.

He doesn’t, opting to watch you amusedly as you squirm on all fours in front of him. “Show me how much you need me,” Soonyoung rasps out, helping you settle over yourself over his thigh before placing his arms behind his head and leaning back against the headboard casually.

Your eyebrows knit together, and you place your hands on his chest for hardly a second before he swats them away. “W-what?”

“Did you not hear me the first time?” he asks, and he’s definitely mocking you with his tone. “And keep your hands to yourself—you only get to touch me if you can prove to me you want this.”

“I want it, Soonyoung, so bad! So, so, so bad, you don’t understand!” you whine, bouncing yourself up and down to punctuate your word but gasps leaving your lips at the friction it leaves behind.

“Yeah well,” he sighs, adjusting his body so he’s laying even further back down. “Make me understand. Make yourself cum.” Your plush lips part, agape at his proposition. Why he can’t just fuck you into the sheets right here and right now is beyond you, but Soonyoung’s eyes light like a flame and you aren’t sure if you want to add fuel to the fire or put out.

Tentatively, you rut your core against the hard muscle of his thigh, the friction of his dark dress pants shooting pleasure through your flimsy panties. You have half a mind to rip the damn fabric off, but the rubbing of cloth that bunches around your clit is more pleasurable than anything.

“See,” Soonyoung murmurs, as you repeat the motion of rocking yours forward and back in a slow rhythm. “Pretty angel does know how to work for something. Let’s see if you can keep it up,” he hums, and you glower down at him.

“I-I know how to work,” you huff, grinding down extra hard as a means to prove your point, but your argument falls flat when you whimper, hands falling forward on his chest as your body lurches forward. Soonyoung’s own firm grip lands on your wrists, yanking them off of him.

“Do you, now?” he scoffs. “Can’t follow simple fuckin’ directions,” he says under his breath, and instead of glaring, your eyebrows furrow as you hold your arms close to your chest, massaging your tits yourself to keep your hands occupied.

“‘m sorry Soonyoungie,” you say softly, losing the attitude that held your head up and replacing it with a wave of compliance as you cling onto the friction against your cunt, desperate to not let your far-away orgasm to ebb away.

“Soonyoungie, huh?” he mutters, watching the way your tits bounce when you work your body in a harsher up and down motion, letting the soiled fabric of your panties to stain his own pants. “Cute name, but you’re gonna have to work a bit harder,” he comments, and he’s true to his word because Soonyoung does think it’s cute. He thinks you’re cute, and hot, and pretty, and the only person he wants to stick his dick into, but fuck, if he doesn’t want to make you beg, make you sob for it …

Fervently, you start to find a pace that’s steadily increasing, thighs burning and twitching at every brush of your sopping pussy over him. You’re wet—so wet—and you know Soonyoung can feel it through his pants. How he’s so still and composed is beyond you, and while you try to think about what’s running through his mind, your brain goes empty the second you feel one of his hands on your hips.

“So spoiled,” he chides, and you want to shake your head and protest, ‘cause no! You’re not spoiled! But you know damn well that’d be a lie, and as you feel Soonyoung flex his muscle beneath you and use his hand to help swivel your hips, it’s only confirmed.

“Hnggff—S-Soony—”

“S’okay,” he groans, when the knee that’s wedged between his legs brushes against his crotch that holds his undeniably hard cock. You both shudder at the feeling—Soonyoung because of the small but relieving stimulation, and you because of the anticipation of feeling him inside of you. “Go on, baby, can tell you’re close. Fuck yourself like this—I know you can do it.”

“Hurts,” you sigh softly as your legs begin to tremble and give into the fatigue. “Soonie, I can’t, I—” you cut yourself off with your own high pitched moan when he hikes his leg up a little higher, causing you ro shift forward and arch your back so that your clit was pressed perfectly against his thigh. “God, fuck.”

“What do you mean you can’t, angel?” he coos in that both infuriating and pulsing tone of his. “You’re doin’ it for me right now …”

“I—I …” the words dry right on your throat when your orgasm crashes into you, the ghost of Soonyoung’s name on your tongue as you fall forward. You know he told you no touching, no holding, none of that, but fuck, even he can’t be mad when you press your face into his chest with low mewls bubbling up in your throat.

Securing an arm around your waist, he bounces his thigh upwards to push you through your fall, squeezing out every last bit of pleasure you’ll allow him until you’re whimpering from the overstimulation but too exhausted to pull away.

“‘m tired,” you whine through broken gasps, as you pull away and look up blankly at the ceiling. Soonyoung watches the way your tits shift with every inhale and exhale, and before he knows it he’s fumbling at the buckle of his belt and shoving his pants and boxers down so his dripping cock can finally breathe.

The sound of his length slapping against his firm abdomen has you blinking into reality quicker than you can think, and you glance at Soonyoung who sits in front of you. His cock is standing up, pulsing tall and proud, adorning a pretty, angry tip that smears precum over his defined abs.

“Too tired?” he piques, but with the way that drool dribbles at the corner of your lips, he knows he already has an answer. Grinning when you shake your head vigorously, he shifts himself so his bare legs hang over the edge of the bed, his hands placed behind him as he leans back. “Get on the ground.”

Two hours ago, you would have shut down the proposition immediately. Getting on the ground for a man? Completely out of your scope. Unfathomable, honestly.

But Soonyoung’s voice is so … it’s—he isn’t proposing, or suggesting, or asking, no … Soonyoung is demanding and you’d be damned to let him think you’re anything less than obedient. Quickly, you push yourself up and crawl over to where he’s sitting before slipping off the bed and slotting yourself between his legs.

As you sit back on your heels, the wetness of your core slides down your thighs and as your legs press together, the arousal smears against your supple skin, undoubtedly making a mess. It feels so dirty and lewd but as Soonyoung watches you with dark eyes, you feel like the most beautiful person on the planet.

Gentler than you were expecting, he uses one hand to hold your chin, forcing you to look up at him. “Angel got a smart mouth, huh,” he says, as if he’s talking to himself as he runs a thumb over your lips, starting from the top then circling down to the bottom. He scoops up some of the drool that you hadn’t wiped away and then pushes it all back into your mouth from the corner of your lips. “You think you can put it to good use?”

“‘course I can,” you say a bit more proudly than Soonyoung enjoys. You’re cute, yeah—fuck yeah—but you look up at him like it’s some sort of challenge and he just needs to remind you of who’s really in charge.

And so he holds you by the crown of your head, guiding your mouth close to his cock which dons a dribble of precum. You stick your tongue out at the sight, eyes wide in anticipation as he uses his other hand to guide your own fingers to your thigh. “Same thing,” he tells you, “two taps and I’ll stop.”

“Okay,” you agree, verbally this time with a nod before pushing your tongue back out in hopes that he’ll speed it all out because fuck, you haven’t ever wanted to feel a cock in your mouth this badly. But who can blame you? It’s so long and thick and—god, it’s so heavy when he taps that tip against your tongue.

You open your mouth wider, anticipating him to push it down further like he did with the gun, but you should’ve known better. Should’ve known that Soonyoung likes toying around with you.

Soonyoung lets you lap precum off his shiny tip, swirling over the slit for just a second before he’s lifting his cock and then slapping it back down on your tongue this time. The contact is light, but the thickness of it all and the ache in your core has you pleading for more.

When a desperate whimper rips through your throat, Soonyoung grins. And so he does it again. And again. And again. Slapping his cock on your tongue until he can’t handle it anymore, cock throbbing at just the thought of you sucking against him like you did his pistol, and slides his length into your mouth without warning.

“Fuck,” he moans, and you vaguely wonder if there could be anything that sounds more melodic. You press your tongue against the length, hardening the tip and tracing it over the curves, the veins—anything and everything you can feel—as if you were trying to memorize him bit by bit.

Soonyoung basks in it, the image of you stuffed with his cock in your mouth, lips puffy but eyes somehow begging for more. He loves it, he tells himself in his head. Such a spoiled girl, but then again, his spoiled girl.

“Ready?” he asks, stiffening his hold on your hair and giving you a knowing look. Meekly, you nod with his cock still spreading your lips, and with nothing more than a nod, Soonyoung pushes you down his full length, nose pressed against his pelvis as you struggle to breathe through your nose.

And it hurts so good—your jaw is sore and you’re on the verge of gagging because he’s so big but something about the way your lungs burn and throat tightens has your mind set on not stopping.

Soonyoung is watching you intently when he finally lets go, pulling you off of his length and allowing you a moment to breathe. He wonders how far is too far with you, but when you just pant heavily, looking up at him with your tongue stuck out once more, inching closer to him, he figures he’s still got a long way to go.

So Soonyoung does it again; softly murmurs, “Take a deep breath,” and then yanks your head down until all you can feel is his cock bullying its way through your lips, your hollowed out cheeks, your throat. His loud moans egg you on, and you nearly start to tremble at the way you start to feel light-headed. He holds you down for longer this time, and this time, tears are gushing down your face but no, you won’t relent.

Its enthralling for the both of you, and it doesn’t stop. Soonyoung starts a pattern. Push down, hold, release, repeat. Push down, hold, release, repeat. And he does it until he feels his cock twitch in your warm mouth and has to almost push you back to hold off from cumming.

He just can’t do it, not yet. Not until he’s felt you flush against his skin, bodies intertwined as he fucks into you.

So when he pulls you off this time, you know it’s the last (for now, at least). You breathe steadily, in through your nose and out through your mouth as you recuperate, staring at the floor. Gingerly, Soonyoung hooks his hands under your arms and pulls you up so you’re sitting next to him on the bed.

“Are you okay?” he asks worriedly when he catches the clouded look on your face. When you slowly look at him and nod with a dazed smile, Soonyoung just knows he’s in love. You look so happy, so eager to submit and he loves the way you trust him, loves the way you know he’s going to treasure you.

“Sit here,” he instructs, pressing a kiss to the corner of your puffy lips as he stands up and walks over in front of the bed where his dresser is.

You frown at the idea of him being away from you. “Need it no-o-ow, Soonie,” you drawl out, standing up and making your way to Soonyoung, reaching out to place your palm against the hard muscle of his back. You run your hand over him, and for a few moments, he lets you.

You can feel the twitch of each hard earned, firm muscle as he moves around through his desk space, and you silently wonder what it’ll feel like to dig your nails into his back in another heated moment. Fuck, you’re so down bad.

“You’re so greedy,” Soonyoung mutters, finally turning around to grab your wrists. On one side, you feel something cool and soft press against your skin, and glancing down, you recognize it as the feeling of black satin against your arm. “I told you to sit down, didn’t I?”

You frown, but oblige anyways, shuffling over to the middle of the bed, sitting down neatly on your knees as Soonyoung stands in front of you by the edge. He’s holding the ribbon in both hands now, the silk taut as he holds it up to your head.

“You okay with this?” he asks, pressing the silk right up against your eyes that have since fluttered shut, but he doesn’t quite tie it just yet. You inhale deeply for a second and then nod. “Words princess. I need words.”

“Yes,” you comply. “I’m okay.”

As soon as you’ve given him the green light, he’s bringing the two ends of the silk behind your head and tying it into a tight knot. “Is it comfortable?” he asks sincerely, waving a hand in front of your face. “D’you see that?”

“Uhh, yes and no,” you respond, slightly confused and still getting used to not being able to see anything.

“Good,” he says to himself, and you feel the mattress dip, causing you to lose a bit of your balance, jutting your hands out to grab onto anything. Immediately, you feel Soonyoung’s hands on you, and your muscles lose their tension. “Relax. I’m right here.”

Those seem to be just the words you need to hear, because you’re sitting back down, sitting a bit more comfortably this time as you feel Soonyoung shift around on the mattress. This is Soonyoung, this is Soonyoung, you remind yourself, and he’ll always keep you safe.

“C’mere,” his thick voice breaks through your thoughts, and you flail around for a moment trying to trace his voice. There’s a hand on your shoulder soon, guiding you toward the direction of the headboard and you tentatively crawl over, yelling out in surprise when you quickly feel two hands wrap under your thighs and lift you up.

Your shock is soon replaced with a burning desire when Soonyoung finally places you on his lap, and you can feel his rock hard length pressing against your inner leg as you settle over his thighs. All you can hear for a moment is your sharp breaths, but then there’s a hard smack against your ass.

“Go on angel … you know what you want to do—what’re you waiting for?”

You want to curse Soonyoung right now, because how the hell d’he know? But then again, you don’t really care because here he is, egging you on.

So gingerly, you lift your hips over him and shuffle forward so that your stomach is pressed against his chest. You feel one of his hands find purchase on your waist while the other reaches between the dripping mess that starts to splay between your cores and positions his cock against your soaked folds.

And then he’s presses rough kisses into your neck and sliding his tongue over your collarbone, murmuring, “Go on princess, go on,” and you can fucking hear the own want in his strained voice. Soonyoung is just as far gone as you, but you don’t have the liberty to linger on that fact for more than a moment before your cunt takes hold of all your senses and you instinctively sink down on him.

The moan Soonyoung let’s out is deep, gruff, guttural, and has your walls instinctively clenching around him and your hazed frenzy. “Good girl,” he grunts as you steady yourself with your hands on his shoulders.

Your head swings around for a few moments as your eyes well up with tears from the initial stretch, but soon Soonyoung’s soft words of praise are pulling you down to reality and reminding you that he’s right here, that this is happening, whispering sweet and filthy nothings into your ear as you adjust to having him inside you.

“See,” he croons, stroking your chin with his thumb as you slowly grind down on him, both of you letting out soft gasps at the feeling. “Being so good for me, princess,” he hums, and you can’t even see the expression on his face but you know he’s not finished. “Wonder what the boss is gonna think of this,” he chuckles under his breath.

Your fingers tighten on his shoulders at his words, hugging his head close as you anticipate what he’s about to say next, trying your best to keep your soft mewls to yourself. It’s hard—really hard—because Soonyoung is big and he’s jutting his hips upwards sharply but sporadically, making it impossible to tell when he’s going to be punching moans straight out of your lungs.

“So good. Being so good for me, but so bad for everyone else,” he whispers into your neck as you start to bounce your hips to meet his thrusts halfway.

“Fuck,” you moan, both from the way he’s battering your inside, reaching so deep you don’t even know how he’s fit.

And Soonyoung doesn’t stop there, at least not with his words. “Sneaking out—” He snaps up harshly, his fat tip pressing against spots inside your cunt that have you writhing into him. “—Lying to your dad—” He continues to punctuate himself with more rough, emphasizing thrusts. “—Going out unattended—Breaking the rules—” He grunts out especially loudly at the last one, burying his head into your beck from the pleasure that radiates you both. “But you won’t do that to me, right princess? G’na be my good girl, right?”

“A-always,” you stutter out through strangled gasps for air as your body lurches around from the deep pounding of his hips. You’re so close—fuck it, you’re nearly there, and you pulse around him, digging your face into his hair from above as you try your best to swivel your hips but then, it all comes to a halt.

“Wha—what?!” you nearly shriek when he grips your hips so tightly that you both still, and suddenly the knot that’s been tying so carefully at the base of your stomach is unraveling and not in the way that you’d like. Your orgasm ebbs away into some far distance that you can’t reach, especially not in the frantic state you’re in after having lost just what might have been the best high of your life. “Why would you do that?”

Soonyoung watches your pained expression from below with the slightest hint of a smile on his lips, quirking an eyebrow at your accusing questions. He presses a hand down on your stomach when you try to buck upwards for some—any—sort of relief. “You already came once. You didn’t think you’d get the second that easily, did you?”

Any snarky remark you’d be able to come up with withers away and all you’re left with is a big fat frown. “I—” you stutter in short breaths before huffing out, “I was s’close.”

“I know princess. But you can be good, right? Good for me?” he mutters, caressing the side of your face with the back of his hand before tugging at the silk, letting the blindfold fall from your eyes and land on his abdomen. Your eyebrows are furrowed in a way that Soonyoung can only describe as cute, and from beneath you, he brings his palm down on your ass harshly, the sound of the smack resonating through his room.

As you blink your eyes into comfort, adjusting to the dim light, Soonyoung lifts his hip, causing his length to shift deeper inside of you, and you lurch forward at the sensation of him kissing your cervix.

“Holy shit,” you whisper, eyes pressed closed tightly as he steadies your hips with his hands and in one swift movement, flips you both over so your back is to the mattress and he hovers on top of you.

You’re overwhelmed with it all—being deprived of your vision for so long and now you get to take it all in—the beads of sweat rolling down Soonyoung’s pretty peaks and valleys of abs, his dark hair splayed all over the face, flush cheeks and furrowed eyebrows as he focuses his vision on where his cock meets your cunt—fuck.

“You wanna cum?” he grunts in your ear, grabbing your face and forcing you to look him in the eye as he draws his hips back, slamming back into your sloppy cunt. Then he brings his lips right by the shell of your ear and in a hoarse, mangled whisper, he demands, “Beg for it.”

And beg you do.

You wrap your legs around Soonyoung’s waist and dig crescent moons into his shoulders, draw pretty red lines into his back and you sob into the sheets, into his shoulder. And your walls hug him in again and again and let him whisper filthy words into your ears until you can’t even comprehend the depraved images he’s drawing into your head.

Ecstasy courses through your veins and your body knows nothing other than the enigma that is Kwon Soonyoung who pushes you so far, until you’re breaking beneath him—a wailing mess as you tell him how good it all feels, how his fat cock batters your cunt so well that you can do nothing other than choke out sweet ‘thank you’s and hoarse, ‘please’s.

And he makes you work for it, just like he promised, urging you to beg just a little more, swiveling his thrusts so that each stroke hits all your sweet spots, finally giving in when he mutters into your neck, “Let go princess, let go.”

And when you finally feel every string that’s been so meticulously woven together, teetering at the edge of breaking for ages, you let it all snap. Crying into his skin as you let him fuck you into an orgasm, hitting you harder than you could even imagine as every muscle goes limp and all you know is Kwon Soonyoung is here next to you, and he here to stay, because after a few more pumps his hot cum is filling you to the brim and more.

Soonyoung kisses you like he could swallow you whole. Like he could bathe in nothing but your arms and be the happiest man alive.

It’s the realization that hits you when he collapses over you, the smell of sweat and sex consuming you as your mouths connect in a maniac passion. More. It’s always more with Soonyoiung. He’ll protect you and more. He’ll hold you and more.Stroking the curve of your hips gently, you know—he’s going to love you and more.

a/n. first part of new rules is done, three more to go! chan will most likely be next, so stay tuned hehe! i hope u all enjoyed :3

tags. @synthetickitsune @leejihoonownsmyheart @dahliatopia @gyuswhore @hoeforcheol @5xiang @hajimelvr @miriamxsworld @lixiel0ver @josefines-things @mimisxs @kawennote09 @bbyjjunie @rubyreduji @todorokiskitten @98-0603 @whippedforjihoon @xiaoting999  @hipsdofangirl @valenhui @nikkixpenguin @minnie-mouser22 @minhui896 @seokchannieworld @yunjinified @dnylwoo @nishloves @woozarts @etherealyoungk (strikethrough could not be tagged) join here!

[bpsmuts]

The Coachella Experience - Lisa

Lisa x Male Reader

Words: 1.522

Summary: Lisa always wanted to try something risky, Coachella seemed to be the best choice...

After a minutes walking, you took a left turn and walked under a tent, back outside. It looked very pretty and one wall had a neon sign, reading "Pinkchella". "This is us! Finally!" sighed Rose as she fell onto a beanbag.

Jisoo and Jennie also sat down at a table and got out their phones, leaving you and Lisa just standing there. "So... what now?" You asked her.

"Whatever you want. We can go around the festival, chill here for a bit. Its up to you, I'll just tag along" Lisa responded, giving you one of her cute smiles.

"Let's explore then!" You say and before you could even take a step, Lisa grabs your hand and the two of you head out to the main festival site.

Lisa basically runs through the crowd, you trying to not break her wrist, follow closely still holding her hand. The two of you eventually arrive on a rather excluded location. You see maybe 10 people below the hill you're on.

"Where are we Lisa?" You ask her. "At the best and also HIDDEN spot on the festival site!" She says, putting special stress on the hidden part. "You see, the main stage is close enough for us to hear the music, but we're far enough as to not be disturbed by anyone" Lisa explains, whilst sitting down in the grass.

You sit down next to her, still holding her hand, taking in the view. "Wow Lis, this place is really cool. You can actually see everything from here"

"Yep, sometimes people come up here tho, to umm... you know. Be alone... and not be disturbed" Lisa says rather awkwardly. "Alone and not disturbed?" You ask, accidentally locking eyes with her.

"You know what Im talking about... 2 people... having some alone time" Lisa tries to explain. "I dont think I get what you're saying" You respond, having to laugh at your own stupidity.

"Sex! Y/N. People have Sex up here sometimes" Lisa finally says, still locking eyes with you.

"Ohhhhh... I get it now" You laugh. "Wait... You didn't get me up here to... umm.." You stutter for words

"Oh no no no Y/N. Like, I was just saying that people sometimes do that here." Lisa replies, finally breaking eye contact and looking away shyly.

After around 10 seconds of silence, Lisa asks "Have you had.. umm.. alone time with someone on a festival before?". She still didnt make eye contact, looking away.

"Umm.. No actually, you?" You reply. "Nope, I've always kind of wanted to try it, but I get so nervous" Lisa admits.

Not knowing what to respond, you sit there for a bit, before Lisa grabs your hand and gets up again. "Lets go back to the girls, I think we wanted to check out the festival together!"

The both of you stand up and start walking off the jhill, towards the festival site. You stop her tho. "You know, if you want to you know...-"

Lisa interrupts you "Okay, lets stop talking around the word. I want to have Sex at a festival!". "Okay, so if you want to have sex, but always end up getting too nervous, maybe you should start slow" You suggest.

"And how would I do that?" Lisa asks curiously. "A kiss.. or some simple touching." You suggest to her. "Hmm.." Lisa falls quiet for a moment. "Do you... want to kiss me Y/N?" She asks silently.

"Me?... Umm, Lis I work for you". "So? It wouldnt be thaat weird" She replies. "Plus, you've also never had sex at a festival before" She adds to her point.

"Okay, woah woah. Lisa. We just went from maybe kissing, to us having sex. What if someone catches us?" You ask her. "They won't and if its one of the girls, they wouldnt tell. Trust me Y/N" Lisa looks at you, with her cute eyes and smile.

"Okay, how about this. We kiss. Once. Here. Then think about it and see how we feel tomorrow. Deal?" You ask her. "Deal!" Lisa responds.

"So how do we do this?" You ask, getting nervous. "What do you mean? Haven't you kissed a girl before?" Lisa mocks you a little. "I have, plently, but never someone like you... on the spot like this" You say, trying to defend yourself.

"Someone like me? Whats that supposed to mean?" Lisa asks, as she slowly gets closer. "An Idol. A Superstar. A Celebrity". "Just pretend, that Im a normal girl. Which I am. I have Boobs. I have.." she gets closer to you and whispers "a vagina" into your ear seductivley.

"Haha, very funny." You say as you pull her closer. Now less than an inch are seperating your lips from her's. "I wasn't lying you know" Lisa says. "I know you weren't, but we have a deal" You respond.

"Deals are meant to be broken" Lisa snaps back. "Thats promises, Lis." You correct her, as the tension starts to rise even more between you two.

"Then I promise you, that I won't have Sex with you tonight" Lisa counters. "Ah fuck it" You respond, before pulling Lisa in and planting your lips on her's.

The two of you start to deepen the kiss and move to making out shortly after. Lisa takes your hand and places it on her boobs, leaving you squeezing and carressing them, earning you a small moan.

You break the kiss and ask "Do you want to do it up here?". "No, lets move back up onto the hill, I want a view" Lisa responds, pulling you behind her.

She lays down onto the grass, starting to pull down her skirt and revealing white lacy panties. After you get your pants off, you lock eyes with her. "White and Lacy? Wow, you really are a secret slut Manoban"

"I come prepared". You don't want to waster anymore time, so you help Lisa take her top off, giving you a site of her small but unbelievably beautifull boobs.

You fall back onto her, kissing her lips, before slowly moving down to her nipples. "A-Ahhh" Lisa lets out a moan of relief, as you start circular motions around her nipples, while your hand had moved further down into her panties.

Your head catching up, moves further down from her nipples, towards her panties aswell. "On or Off, Lis?" You ask her. "Off, they're yours now!" She says, breathing heavily.

You pull down the panties and lay them over your shorts next to you, before moving your head between her legs. You start by kissing her folds, before starting to lick them and eating Lisa out.

"A-Ahhh Y/N! AHH FUCK" Lisa cant hold her moans any longer. You continue to eat Lisa's pussy for a couple minutes, before moving back up to her face.

"Would the idol like to taste herself?" You ask her. "Yes please" Lisa says, completely out of breath. You kiss her, letting her taste her own juices on your lips.

Lisa breaks the kiss "I want you Y/N. I want you so deep inside of me. Please" You dont let her tell you that twice and line up your dick, before slowly pushing it inside her.

She starts to moan louder and louder, giving you a slight fear that others can hear you, but at the same time you didn't care. You were having Sex with THE Lisa Manoban... from Blackpink.

You continued and picked up the pace, to see Lisa's response and after a couple minutes, you could start to feel yourself get closer. "I'm getting close Y/N" Lisa said, like it was a perfect movie. "Me Too, Lis"

"Let's cum together Y/N" Lisa suggested inbetween moans. "Ready?" You asked her, getting a nod in response.

You could feel here pussy getting tighter as you let lose and felt your cum pump into her. "AH FUCK, Y/N" Lisa moaned as she orgasm'd.

After you both reached your climax, you collapsed next to her. "That was perfect, Lis" You told her, catching your breath. "It really was, Y/N".

The two of you both layed in the grass, enjoying the sun on your naked bodies. "Have I ever told you, that I actually really like you calling me Lis?" Lisa asked you. "Nope, but thats good to know" you respond.

"Yeah, makes me feel cute" Lisa laughs as she gets up and start to put her clothes back on, handing her white panties to you, as you do the same.

"These are yours by the way" she says. "Why? Don't you want some... protection... it is pretty windy and I wouldnt want anyone seeing a white substance run down your leg"

Lisa smirks, "No, keep them. Take it as a trophy... for having sex with an idol. Plus I have a backup in my bag by the tent".

You take the panties and stuff them into your pocket, before putting on your shirt. "Ready to go?" Lisa asks you. "Yes, Lis" You smirk.

The both of you walk off, hand in hand and make your way back to the tent.

[scoobydoodean]

I just perused your tags about Dean’s narrative heart, and Sam’s motivations, and I’ve been full of thinky thoughts. There’s nothing to really disagree with in your premise, but I am trying to piece that together with something external to the story.

I knew before I watched the first episode that Sam was The Chosen One, but I didn’t really start watching until s12, and had some catching up to do. So I’m trying to wrap my head around making your Chosen One act so… morally grey. It’s a risky move, but I feel like if Kripke’s story had enough to keep us all so fascinated more than a decade after his personal involvement, maybe there’s a deeper reason Sam seems so young.

Maybe that’s just it, though. Whatever we think we know about his childhood, and Dean’s parentification, Sam is only 22. He’s not sheltered, but he is still maturing.I’m showing my creaky bones here, but to me, Sam behaves consistently with his age group. BUT he’s deliberately not presented against a backdrop of college kids, and Dean leaning into the macho party boy in the first few years sort of deflects from that, like sleight of hand.

And so Sam sliding from the Chosen One straight into addictive behaviours does make a strange kind of sense, because there’s part of the wound the addiction is patching up.

I’m sorry for rambling into your inbox, but I’m pretty interested in your thoughts on this.

I think maybe it helps to know that one of Kripke's influences was Star Wars and to consider this through that lens. Dean was partly based on Han Solo, and Sam was partly based on Luke Skywalker. Luke matures over the course of the original Star Wars trilogy, but he had some growing to do between episode IV and episode VI (and the fact that he has matured is something the characters specifically make note of in the jump from "The Empire Strikes Back" to "Return of the Jedi".

I also think it's reasonable to think Kripke decided to take Sam in a sort of hybrid Luke/Anakin direction after he completed the pilot (Star Wars Episode III where Anakin turns to the dark side came out in May of 2005, and Supernatural began airing that Fall). Playing out the Chosen One trope with Sam, in a Star Wars context means that him going grey and then dark is exactly what you want, because that's exactly what happens with Star Wars' Chosen One, Anakin. When we consider that the only people actually calling Sam The Chosen One in Supernatural are demons... well. Sam, the "chosen one", is actually destined to be used by the dark side (demons). He just doesn't know that in season 4 (or doesn't believe it).

In Star Wars, anger and hatred are considered primary tools of The Dark Side. Anger and hatred are big motivating factors for Sam in season 3 (where he really starts to turn morally grey) and 4, and season 5 is in some sense supposed to be about Sam maturing and learning to let go of some of his anger because it's something Lucifer (The Dark Side) can use (5.10, 5.11, 5.20). I'm not a big fan of anger being treated as "the bad emotion", but it is a big deal in Star Wars, and it helps make sense of what it means for Sam to have a chosen one storyline over the first 5 seasons.

Within that whole framework, there's also definitely a lot about growing up and becoming more mature (like Luke Skywalker did) and the tension of whether the protagonist will be consumed—essentially—by the ghost of his father (just like Vader initially tried to lead Luke to the dark side).

There's an intersection somewhere in this ask with "being the main character" I think? But I don't actually consider Sam to be the sole lead of Supernatural. From a story perspective, that simply hasn't ever been true whether Kripke intended it or not (and I don't even think he did. I think Sam functions as the sole lead in the pilot episode just like Hughie functions as the sole lead in the pilot for The Boys as a relatable vehicle for the audience to be introduced to the world. After that, we get Butcher and Homelander and everyone else and realize it's an ensemble show). Beyond the pilot, there is simply nothing that materially or narratively distinguishes Sam as a sole lead beyond Jared's name being first on the call sheet. He doesn't get more screen time than Dean (Dean gets more in almost every season and there are several episodes Sam is barely in), Sam doesn't get more dialogue than Dean, the found family does not center around Sam (it centers around his brother). He isn't even centered as the most competent fighter in action sequences. I don't say that to suggest Sam isn't a lead, but that seasons 1-5 are about Sam and Dean, and both are leads, which means Sam can be morally grey and even unlikeable at times (and so can Dean) as long as the brothers contrast/oppose one another in those circumstances so the audience doesn't become totally alienated. If Sam was actually the sole lead in any material way, they wouldn't have had the space to explore Sam's "dark side" this deeply, I think. At least not without entirely reframing what kind of story Supernatural is/what it's about.

[pinkywritesstuff]

A Little Introduction For You/DA RULES!!

Have you ever had an Animaniacs/Pinky and The Brain fic you've always wanted to read? Do you have that one nagging idea that just sticks in your mind and invades your every waking thought? Hi guys!!!! I'm Pinky and you probably know me from my blog @theonethatyaks93. You've probably seen my random Pinky and The Brain and Animaniacs posts floating around here for some time (January of 2023 was when I joined but I've been in the Animaniacs fandom since 2020). But I also write fanfiction for funsies and since the Animaniacs/Pinky and The Brain fandom has slowly been waning, I decided to make a sideblog to accept requests for fanfics!!! This is so the fandom can stay alive and other people can find it too!! I'm a tad bit late to the party, but I hope that you guys enjoy what I have in store! Now below: I've listed some of the rules, restrictions, and information about how-to submit a request here!!

To make a request, all you have to do is drop it into the ask box here on this blog! I do not want fic requests on my main blog!! Thank you!! :) <3

I tried not to set too many rules but here are the main ones(Most of this is taken from my announcement post on my main blog):

There will be absolutely NO 18+ content allowed. There are a ton of fics out there with mature labels that you can find; you don't have to look hard. I do not feel comfortable writing that stuff yet. Don't ask for smut of any kind because you will not get it, I guarantee that. The farthest I want to go is deep kissing (i.e. tongue) but I'm only willing to do that for Pinky and Brain exclusively, since it doesn't seem to bother the fandom that much. I WILL NOT do that stuff for Yakko and Max because it doesn't sit well with me since they are so young. If deeper, more aggressive kissing is involved in Brinky fics, the tag: mildly spicy mice, will be used to indicate this. It won't be in every fic, I promise. :)

NO WARNERCEST REQESTS!!! That will get you promptly banned off of both my blogs for the foreseeable future. I HATE THIS SHIP SO MUCH AND IT'S DISGUSTING!!!! This also ties into the no 18+ content label mentioned earlier. Do not ask for this.

Fic requests may take up to a week or more to complete. It will depend on the ask itself and the story ideas I compile together. I'm very busy with other life things and stresses that it will be difficult to find the time to work on these. I will optimize weekends for fic writing to my best ability, but I will let you guys know if I'm taking a break. When I'm taking a short break, the ask box will be closed temporarily, but it will be re-opened.

Other ships such as Billie x Julia, Wakko x Louie Duck, and Dark Pinky x Future Brain will be accepted if you request them. If these take longer to make, it's going to be because I haven't written for these ideas before and I will need time to make sure everything is done decently. I'm also accepting AU ideas such as gender-swaps (I have a really good idea if y'all want to see a gender-swapped Pinky and Brain) . However, parody ideas will be extremely risky to request since if I haven't seen the material, I can't make the parody and if I have seen it, I might make a whole fic based on it rather than just a simple one-shot. I am also not accepting Wakko's Wish requests until further notice; I have a few pending and I will get to those eventually, thanks for being patient.

If your request takes longer to complete and it's not a parody or a ship I haven't worked with before, it's likely because I am working on a fic for AO3, most likely my one-shots, or a tedious multi-chapter. Don't think I've abandoned your request; I will get to you ASAP after I'm done with whatever project I'm on.

Certain things that are banned from the askbox: mean comments, smut requests, Warnercest, non-Animaniacs/PaTB requests, harassment of other individuals. Certain ships, such as Warnercest and Brain x Julia will not be allowed either due to personal or emotionally scarring reasons.

Last thing: Enjoy it!!! Make requests that are angsty, silly, fluffy, sad, or happy! Think about what you've always wanted to see in a fanfic, or an idea that you would enjoy seeing my take on. Just make sure to follow my rules and boundaries so we can all enjoy this as a fandom.

I'm really excited to see what I can do!!! And I'm also really excited to see all the fun ideas you guys can come up with!!! I'm hoping I can make this fandom proud and maybe inspire others to dive into the realm of writing!! Gather your requests and let's all have some fun!! Narf!!!

-Pinky (theonethatyaks93)

[ynscrazylife]

Kate x teen sister yes yes yesssss okay I don’t really have the best ideas but I second you writing something for that so I’m going to give it a shot and suggest maybe like maybe her sister tries being superhero-like to get kates attention bc she’s been so busy getting into the hero world but like reader obvs isn’t prepared for that kinda stuff and then yeah Kate helps them out from a risky situation and then it’s all nice (albeit a bit of a rant from Kate abt her sisters irresponsibility) and sisterly resolved! Yeah again I’m not good with ideas and don’t usually rec but I love Kate Bishop too much to let it pass

Jealousy, Jealousy

Summary: Your big sister Kate comes to the rescue when your attempt in being a vigilante gets you in trouble.

Warning: Reader gets captured and beat up (not too descriptive)

Request to be on a taglist (or multiple) here! (Taglists are at the end of the fic)

Main Masterlist | MCU Masterlist

PSA: Do NOT copy, steal, translate, plagiarize, republish, etc any of my works on Tumblr or any other platform. Also, do NOT claim any of my works as your own. All of these works are either requests I’ve gotten that people have wanted me to write or original ideas I’ve had for works. If you happen to take inspiration from anything I’ve written and want to write something inspired by that, please a) ask me first and b) IF I say yes, credit me as inspo in your post by tagging me and link whatever work of mine that inspired you. Thanks.

Jealousy was an infectious, suffocating disease . . . And unfortunately, you had caught it.

As much as you tried to help it, over the years, jealousy over older sister had seeped in and invaded you over the years. It was subtle, silent, at first but lately, it was attacking with full force and twisting up your insides. By now you were aware of it, and knew it wasn’t good, but what was there to do about it? You were jealous. It was a fact.

Jealous that she had become a star archer, could fence so well, was a master in martial arts, and got to go off to that fancy, expensive college. You were pretty good at martial arts too, as Kate needed a partner to practice with at home when you guys were younger, but not as good as her. Other than that, you were pretty average at everything else, at least, in your mind, that is.

All this jealously spilled out one day when you were visiting your mother in prison and were updating her on your life. You hadn’t spoken to Kate since finding out she had gotten your mother arrested. She tried to explain, but you were too overwhelmed, too shocked, to listen.

You were recounting to her how of course Kate had become a superhero and was working with the one and only Hawkeye when she interrupted with: “You can be a hero, too, honey.” Her voice was sweet, a little too sweet, but you didn’t pick up on that — wouldn’t notice it until later.

This made you stop and blink. “What?” You asked dumbly.

Eleanor smiled. At the time . . . It seemed sincere. “You want to be a hero, do you not?” She asked with an innocent shrug.

You couldn’t deny that the idea had run through your mind. That kind of job must not only be exhilarating, but also rewarding—getting to help people, change the world, and work with other heroes. Work with Kate. Get closer to her. It was the perfect opportunity to bond with her, though you shoved that feeling aside. Why did you have to be the one to reach out to Kate? To get her attention? Couldn’t she reach out to you?

Your mom always had a knack for knowing what you were thinking. “Maybe,” you admitted, suddenly feeling small. You didn’t think anything of it and just wrote it off as anxiety.

“You can be a hero, Y/N . . . You can help me. It’s horrible in here, honey. You can free me,” Eleanor said, moving closer to the glass separating the two of you and putting her hand against it.

You furrowed your eyebrow in confusion, but mirrored her action. “How?” You asked. It never occurred to you that you could help your mom.

“I’ll give you the number of the woman I’ve been working for, Valentina. She could use a smart agent like you. Do some good for her and then . . . You can get Valentina to get me outta here. She’s a little unhappy with me right now, but I know you can show her that none of it was my fault,” Eleanor exclaimed.

It was intriguing — but something felt off. The name Valentina . . . It was familiar. “I think Kate said—” You began.

“Kate’s confused,” Eleanor intervened, a little sharply. When she saw you start to pull back, she quickly continued. “She’s misguided. So is Hawkeye. They misunderstood our work. Valentina can show you—how her agents have helped people. Tell her I sent you.”

If she wasn’t your mother, if she was anyone else, you’d be more suspicious than you were. But you were inclined to trust her, she was your mother. And you and Kate didn’t really get along. So you decided to give it a shot, see if Valentina was really helping people or not.

Of course, when you contacted her, the lies spilled off her tongue so quickly and easily. The proof she showed you — it was an elaborate web of fakes. You were being manipulated, although you didn’t know it at the time, by both your mom and Valentina. You were convinced that you could help both her and innocent people, so you started doing missions for her . . . Which is how you ended up captured by Kingpin’s allies.

You were sitting, tied to a chair with your wrists and ankles handcuffed and duct tape over your mouth, glaring at your captor who was holding your phone. “Let’s see how much you mean to them, dear,” the man mocked, and then proceeded to dial Valentina’s number.

On the last ring, she picked up. “Did you do it?” Valentina asked neutrally.

You watched the man like a hawk as he brought the phone to his lips. “We’ve captured your little agent,” he said gleefully in a sing-song voice.

Your glare sharpened and you heard Valentina curse. “Let’s say . . . 25 grand?” The man said.

You were sure that Valentina had the money, so imagine your surprise when all she did was scoff. Your gaze shifted to the phone, missing how the smile on the man’s mouth grew wider.

“You think I’m going to pay that amount of money for a rookie agent who got herself captured?” Valentina could clearly be heard saying. There was some shuffling, as if she was moving the phone, and then she muttered to someone nearby, making you strain to listen: “I knew she’d never make it if I had to make her believe that she was saving helpless people.”

You could barely believe your ears as you were forced to listen to Valentina mock you, eyes wide and cheeks burning in embarrassment. The man, though, he loved this. He was eating it up.

“You lied to her, then? To recruit her, I suppose?” He guessed, keeping his eye trained on you. You could feel his taunting glare and it just fueled the burning fire inside you.

“It’s none of your business,” Valentina snapped, before forcing a breath. “Look, the girl knows jack shit about me so there’s no use in questioning her—” She laughed. “—just have your fun with her and dump her somewhere, alright? I have no time for this, I’ll get what I want from you another way.”

“We already knew you were interested in us when you sent the girl here — but openly admitting it? That’s bold, especially with who our boss is,” the man said, not paying attention to you anymore.

“Kingpin’s dead, everyone knows that,” Valentina said, and then laughed again. “Have fun with your toy. I know I did, while it lasted.”

With that she hung up, having no clue that you heard all of this. Meanwhile, your mind was reeling . . . How could she give you up like this? What did she mean by you knowing “jack shit”? She told you a lot about herself and her business . . . Unless it was all lies . . .

You let out a muffled, angry scream through the duct tape. You had had an inkling that something was off with your mother’s story — especially about Kate being confused and misguided — since the beginning. Hell, you had been weary of her ever since she had been arrested, as you never knew the full reason why. You had never wanted to know, you still clung to hope that your mother was who she says she is, that your world wouldn’t be thrown upside down like Kate’s was.

Well, now it was definitely on a rollercoaster. Everything was shattering into tiny pieces that you weren’t sure you could put back together, and all you could do was blame yourself. God, you felt so stupid, so useless.

The dread set in when you looked up from where you had been staring at the floor and the man was walking towards you, still smiling like the Cheshire Cat. No one was coming for you.

“We’re gonna have some fun, darling,” he sneered.

It was hours later when you started to hear crashes and bangs. You looked up at the door curiously — what was going on? Who was here? You got answer when the door burst down and, to your surprise, two purple-clad heroes entered.

“Y/N!” Kate cried, immediately running over to you. She removed the tape from your mouth and then undoing your bindings. Clint stood at the doorway, watching silently.

Your eyes widened and you ignored the sting on your lips. God, you never thought you’d be so happy to see her. “Kate . . . How did you know I was here?” You asked — confused, but grateful.

“A friend of ours used to work with Valentina — she has connections and, uh, ways of discovering things,” Kate answered cryptically. Honestly, you didn’t really care about how she found you.

“She lied to me,” you mumbled, shifting your gaze to your lap, embarrassed. “Mom told me that by working with Valentina, I could help people . . . Help her. They both lied to me.”

Kate’s heart broke as she listened to you. Despite your strained relationship, she was your big sister. She’d always look out for you. “Yeah . . . I’m sorry you had to find out the hard way,” she murmured softly, petting your hair to soothe you.

Your gaze slowly found Kate’s. You had expected her to be mad at you for falling for this, but instead all you saw were tears and regret. “I wanted to be a hero like you,” you admitted, shaking your head in disbelief. “I was stupid to think that I could do that.”

“Hey, you can be a hero, Y/N. You just need the right training. Clint helped me become a hero and now . . . We can help you,” Kate assured you.

You just shrugged, still caught up in Valentina’s words. Kate decided to let it go for now, as the last thing you needed was to feel like she was persuading you into something.

“I can already tell you’re a great kid, like your sister. You were brave even to go up against these guys. Let us help you, okay?” Clint said in a soft tone he’d usually use with his kids.

You nodded slowly and Kate smiled warmly. She wrapped her arm around you, supporting most of your weight. Clint came to your other side and they both helped you walk out of there.

You knew it wouldn’t be easy to repair your relationship with Kate, but at least it was a start. You were safe with her and Clint and found yourself leaning into her. She cared for you. She loved you. And you loved her. She was family—your big sister, your protector.

“Thank you, Katie,” you murmured to her as the three of you walked out.

“No need to, Y/N/N,” Kate said, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I’ll always be here to save you.”

And so it began — the green envy started to seep away.

Permanent Taglist: @natasharomanoffismywife @hehehehannahthings @paulawand @blackbat2020 @cerberus-spectre @snipyloulou @cc13723things @passionswift @drayshadow @amaryllis23 @storysimp @lamieshelmy @galacticstxrdust @a-lil-bit-nuts @marvel-to-infinity @maryseesthings @lovelyy-moonlight @dumb-fawkin-bitch @thewidowsghost @cowboybabyyy @rootbeerfaygo @immathinker @espressopatronum454 @ladyrebel29-blog @1694 @trashyxxkawa @loverofthings2425 @kabloswrld

Marvel Taglist: @stephanieromanoff @summerlovingbaby @ineffablebean @procrastinatingsapphictrash @prettysbliss @caseyfish-blog @sarahp-stan @basiclesbianbitch @mycosmicparadise @xtraordinaryfangrl @peggycarter-steverogers @ima-gi-nati-on @hi-i-1 @mmmmokdok @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @mads-weasley @tenaciousperfectionunknown @afraid-to-be-me @lilclownx @acertainredhead @lilymurphy03 @thanossexual @avengersz-biotch @mjaudrey @un-name-d @leyannrae @buckyandstevesslut @kuzomekou-blog @nylevea @suckerfornatstits @bentleywolf29 @bunnyweasley23 @ss @pianogirl2121 @beth-gallagher22 @pleasantbearscissorstoad @marvelwomen-simp @wandaswifeyforlifey @that-napa-know-how @wisteriaandauroras @mirakeul @eternallyvenus @thatoneshykid13 @jeminiepabo @skagelynn @redsakura101 @todaywasafairytale07 @yelenarmnv @lazyloki-blog @nerd-88 @fairydxll @v0idl1nq_ @inluvwithfictionalwomen @scarthefangirl @marie45019 @strangegardentaco @froufrousnowman @raajali3 @freyathehuntress @youralphawolf72 @otomefan @uwiuwi @princessprudy @ofherscarlettwitchways @liltimmyst @yoalchumly @mythixmagic @gitasofia @hlvstia @lovelyy-moonlight @wandsmxmff

[llvr-92]

DGM Pairing - LaviLena - Part 2

it takes so much time but here is the second part of why Lavi deserves Lenalee the most & why I think Hoshino sensei setting them up as a couple, I hope you enjoy this post. also, you can find part1 under LaviLena tag in my blog:                     

Part2:Noah's Ark Arc:

· So we started this arc with Lenalee getting sucked by Lero into the “Noah’s Ark”, as everyone falls on top of her she was unconscious the first person to go to her & pick her-up is Lavi, just look how he is protectively\closely holding her. (CH90- EP76).

· As they were fighting Debito & Jedero, Lavi told Allen to protect Lenalee and the other “Chouji” until he found the real key (CH100 – EP82).

· After that the crew leaves Krory behind Lenalee wanted to go back to him, Allen stopped her & kind of share a cute Allena moment but Lavi has to ruin it for them, Lavi is probably jealous of how Allen is holding her & how close his face to Lena face isn’t he?. (CH105-EP83).

· Allen was helping Lenalee to climb the stair he is holding her hand and then Lavi commented that “he wants to switch place with Allen”, Allen reply was “your real motivate is so obvious Lavi, he just wants to hold Lenalee’s hand”, After Lenalee letting her thought out loud, Lavi teased her about never finding a lover if she “didn’t think more sexy thought”, which makes her angry & replied to him “its none of your business Lavi” & Lavi’s answer was “it’s none of my business but…”, Lavi seems so lost to put any other word as he was also blushing & frustrated so he had to change the subject, from the way Hoshino sensei drew this scene I think it will return in the future arc you can see Lenalee noticing Lavi blushing toward her in the below right panel with a “?”, maybe she will have a flashback related to this scene in the future. (CH110 – EP84).

· After receiving the bad news about Kanda & Krory, Lenalee was terrified\worried but Lavi reaches out to her squeezed her hand & told her to get a hold of herself, at this point “I love how Lavi knows her personality & how will she react then he just act accordingly to comfort her. (CH111-EP85).

· Lenalee & Chouji are Locked-up, Lavi is the one to fight to free these two & manly to free Lenalee you can see Lenalee apologizing for Lavi as this fight is on away for her sake. (CH112).

· Lavi is shifted into Road dream world, but what Road exactly used to prepare the worst opponent for Lavi, worst dream by reading his record & peering into his memory, his opponent was his former self “Deak” & an interesting conversation started between the two\bookman, this is the important dialogue stated between the two:

· Deak to Lavi “the place of your heart doesn’t exist in this world, no matter whose heart let you in you can only watch them that’s is your punishment”, after this dialogue Lavi reply “I already know that” which is incorrect he doesn’t know as Deak answered him I wonder? Then it just happens that Lenalee appears in the next panel with this text “your eyes of the past were never lit with that weak light” as if it indicated that “Lenalee is currently Lavi’s light” (CH114-EP86).

§  But let's not forget Road real purpose is to break him mentally & for that she used Lenalee by sending her inside a coffin knowing how Lavi will react, perhaps after reading Lavi memories/record she discovers Lavi feelings for Lenalee which at this point “Lavi himself still doesn’t know his feeling yet”.

§  After he saw Lenalee he jumped & rushed to her side & he holds her closely “just take a look at how Hoshino sensei drew Lavi facial expression, how much he is so terrified”, also didn’t Lavi said a while ago this is just a dream/an illusion created by Road Kamelot yet he reacted this way toward a fake Lenalee “Lavi just can’t think rationally when it’s involving Lena” (CH114-EP86).

·  We had a flashback when Lavi first joined the order & his first meeting with Lenalee, again Hoshino-sensei choice for drawing Lavilena encounter is too beautiful, first, she gives us an overall view from the top just to showcase “there are a lot of people on the area”, but Lavi’s eyes set on Lenalee & on the same time Lenalee look at him while crying. “it’s like this is a girl & a boy encounter by fate, Lavi was so far away, yet they look at each other in the same time.

also regarding his encounter with Lenalee I believe it’s related to an answer which Lavi provided in the discussion room here is the question “Does Lavi have a thing for a cute girl with big breast” Allen answered “he’s a menace”, where Lavi had to stop him and answered “Hey, hold on! People think I only care about looks, but I'm pretty picky about personality too, “sometimes you see a girl and it just hit you” & just after this question Lavi stated that he is interested in Lenalee. 

We also seen Lenalee sitting beside him in the cafeteria, she looks comfortable with him even though he is a newbie she even pats his back.

· After breaking Lavi mentally Deak takes over his body, a fight started with Allen, Lavi was ruthless & powerful as the last hope Allen used “Lenalee is crying” hoping to influence Lavi emotionally & bring him to his sense, but why “Allen used Lenalee name, perhaps he knows that Lavi has a feeling for her, he is weak against her tears? “I will write about this in part 3”, anyway instead of influencing Lavi positively, it seems that “Lenalee name triggered him to punch Allen even harder, “just look at Deak gaze when Allen mentioned Lena name”.

why he seems pissed? This is just an assumption but “as Deak is the one taking over, he was furious because the reason why Lavi is changing is Lenalee, he knows Lavi is falling for her isn’t he? otherwise why using Lenalee as the main person to break his heart on Road dream, why Lenalee is one to appear in the flashback, why he is trying so hard to convince Lavi “she is nothing more than a small piece of history?”, falling for her will interfere with Lavi recording as he stated while Lavi’s holding Lenalee “don’t let your heart distract you & interfere with your record”, meaning whatever Bookman clan trying to achieve is at risk as we saw “Lavi breaking his bookman role multiple time for Lenalee sake on the previous arc, this arc & the upcoming arc as well.

·  Then Road stated something important I do think this will also be used on Lavi’s arc “if we ever reach there hopefully” once he becomes the bookman, which is “bookman are just onlookers for the sake of his record, he just walked alongside you guy” “those are that kid’s true feeling, you notice that Hoshino sensei put the text on Lenalee panel, even the anime version when Road said those words the frames were on Lenalee”

first, you see how these words affected Lenalee just look at how Hoshino-sensei draws Lenalee eyes she looks broken/desperate “Perhaps for the first time Lenalee was terrified from Lavi as a person”. after Lavi burned himself, Lenalee was also desperately hitting her leg wanting to save Lavi but unfortunately she didn’t have her innocence, once Allen & Lavi are out from the petrified fire she goes to “Lavi first”, instead of sharing a touchy moment, she gives him her Iron fist of love, but why Lenalee punch him in the first place I know Lavi was reckless, but it’s the same for Allen he was reckless against Tiki he didn’t get a punch, you may call me a biased but “Lenalee punching Lavi seems an act a girlfriend will do when the boyfriend had done risky thing & it’s a different vibe from when she hits Allen in the next chapter ”.

· Lavi lent his coat to Lenalee as she was revealing to much skin, just look how cute she is on Lavi’s coat, also isn’t Lavi acting like he is the perfect boyfriend, not to forget he showed a proactive side toward Lenalee being in a room with the womanizer Cross he had to rush to her with the other boys. “Lenalee are you sure he didn’t do anything to you?”

·  Personally, this arc was my favorite because I got attached to Lavi’s background & his suffering, I also know on this Arc that Lavi is hopelessly in love with Lenalee & not to mention through the years Lavi changed his name 48 times and all the previous persona are the same but Lavi differ before he was disappointed on the human race, didn’t get attached to anyone, he was only concentrating on recording, but all that changes once he encounters Lenalee, Lenalee changed him, did Lenalee changes Allen persona in any way? I don’t think so, we all know what motivates Allen it’s his promise to mana, so I do hope she gives Lavi a chance, but also Hoshino sensei put some elements which make this ship Impossible to Happen, which make me ship them more  T_T.

· I will be happy to receive any feedback positive or negative are all welcomed, BTW Part three is already finished I just need to do the final revision, but I haven’ really thought that it would be the longest one ^_^, what you all think shall I tried to delete some part or keep it long as it’s, I mean I have put extra thing such as why I support this ship, what I hate about it, my point of view about Hoshino sensei writing, an example from different Manga related to couple-endgame…..ETC.

[ace-oreos]

You must be so sick of alpha and Fordo asks but you’re latest fic has given me angst potential- maybe a one-shot with alpha working with the bad batch to find Fordo post order 66 an him just breaking at the seams when he finds his Vod because he thought he lost Frodo like he lost Sev. Tears and man hugs ensue

Oh I am NEVER sick of Alpha and Fordo asks - they’re such a fun chaotic duo to write for. :D Also, Alpha working with the Bad Batch is something I never knew I needed until I saw your ask and I would absolutely write something with all of them again. I cannot express how difficult it was to not go off on a tangent about Hunter.

In true Sev style, I chose Kashyyyk as the main location for this one. It’s just so useful for these kinds of things.

Also. Y’all. I did not realize until I was four pages into this that I forgot Echo. So uh... whoops?  😅 😂 With that in mind, let me warn you that this is WAY longer than the other fics. I have no idea what happened. I have no idea what I’m doing.

Also also, thank goodness for Wookiepedia lmao

Edit with tags: @dudewhynotthis @merspots @the-mandalorian-clone-lover @delta-the-mando (taglist is open!) 

“Captain.” The sergeant keeps his distance even now, face inscrutable as he surveys Alpha. 

“Alpha,” he corrects half-heartedly, more for the sergeant’s sake than his own. 

“Alpha,” Hunter amends. “We’ll be entering the Mid Rim soon - maybe an hour, hour and a half tops.”

“Good to know.” Alpha knows he sounds despondent at best, but he’s hit enough dead ends by now to know all too well this will likely be a fruitless endeavor. There’s nowhere in the galaxy safe from him - not when his brother’s life is hanging in balance.

But it’s a big galaxy, with little regard for individual yearning or emotion. Alpha can vow to upend the galaxy as much as he likes, but the fact is they’ve only so much time, and only so many resources, and...

And maybe Hunter picks up on that, in that way of his as he observes Alpha without further comment. The sergeant is as much his vod as anyone else Alpha has encountered. Still beyond him sometimes, a little too other for Alpha to ever fully mesh with him or his brothers, but he’s a good soldier. A good man. 

“We’ve always got room for another,” are Hunter’s parting words as he makes his way back to the cockpit. 

If you find out your brother was dead all along. 

Alpha doubts it was anything less than a genuine offer, but it isn’t the only route. Not until I’ve exhausted every other option. And even then....

It doesn’t do, to let himself become so intertwined with a brother until he isn’t entirely sure he knows who he is without the other. He’d tried, both for his brothers and for his own peace of mind, to put a stop to it before it went too far. And maybe that was Jango getting in his head more than Alpha ever should have allowed, but he’d thought it was the right thing to do.

Sometimes I can’t help but wonder...

________________________

“ - you know as well as I do we’ve been going in circles for weeks now - ”

“Yeah, you might’ve mentioned that once or twice…”

“You said it yourself - we’ll get ourselves killed if we aren’t careful.”

“So we’ll be careful.” Hunter’s voice holds a note of finality. “We can keep rehashing this conversation, or we can help a vod.”

Alpha doesn’t catch the muttered reply, but it’s hardly amenable, if Hunter’s sigh is anything to go by. He can’t blame them, really - Fordo isn’t their brother, and outside of combat they’ve little common ground. And it’s only natural for Crosshair to raise the questions none of them are yet ready to face. Alpha thinks he could learn to like the man, given time. 

He reigns in his thoughts before entering the cockpit. The least he can do is put on a rational front. This whole thing isn’t at all rational, but the Bad Batch seem to understand better than others. It runs deeper than brotherhood here, whatever it is, and Alpha is irrepressibly reminded of Fordo, somehow - 

(And osik, does that thought burn, dig under his skin to remind him once again that he failed, that should he redeem himself it will be not on his terms but likely an inconsequential whim of a galaxy that cares nothing for them or everything they’ve fought so hard to hold on to - )

“Y’know, I’m not sure we’ve ever been to Kashyyyk,” Wrecker muses. “That’s a first.”  If he’s trying to divert Alpha’s attention from Crosshair, it’s a skillful effort that almost takes Alpha aback. “‘Course, I only remember the fun parts,” he adds as an impish afterthought.

“Anything with explosives, you mean?” Alpha asks drily. 

Wrecker grins. “Something like that.”

You and Fordo would get along fine.

What leaves his mouth is, “I don’t suppose anyone has any relevant information about this place?”

Right on cue, Tech pipes up from his position alongside Crosshair. “Actually…”

Tech is just as much of an efficient distraction in his own right. It’s not exactly the height of strategy on Alpha’s part, but once again it redirects attention. He has no doubt Hunter sees right through it; still, the man has enough tact to refrain from commenting.

You understand, I think, Alpha decides, watching exasperation and amusement play across Hunter’s face in turns as his brothers’ bickering fills the cockpit. You would go to hell and back for them, wouldn’t you, Sergeant? 

Hunter casts him a wary glance. Alpha holds his gaze.

There’s too much we can’t say. It’s okay, vod - I think I’m starting to understand too.

________________________

Kashyyyk is dishearteningly vast, all sprawling jungles and endless island chains set on a swath of ocean that dissects the planet’s hemispheres. Getting in was no easy task, what with the Imperial blockade cutting off the planet from others in its sector. But Tech’s adroit piloting had come through, and they’d slipped past the blockade with little disturbance.

“You really think your buddy is here?” Crosshair asks dubiously, surveying the area with a distinct air of displeasure.

“I’ve seen the records,” Alpha says, as much to reassure himself as the other man. “The Empire’s tighter with the book-keeping, I’ll give them that. Fordo’s unit lost contact not long before Order Sixty-six went down. If they made it out, it would be on record somewhere.”

“And if they didn’t?”

Alpha battles his temper into submission before replying. “Then they would be confirmed KIA. But they’re still listed as missing as of two weeks ago.”

“Sounds like you’re leaving an awful lot to chance,” Crosshair opines. There isn’t malice in his voice so much as an unmistakable note of disapproval. “What’s your plan if it turns out they were just waiting for reinforcements and pulled out days ago? That leaves us here in the heart of Imperial occupation.”

“I haven’t forgotten,” Alpha says grimly. “But if they lost comms before the order came through, then there’s a chance they aren’t with the Empire. Their main focus would be survival, not falling in line nice and neat like Palpatine expects.”

It’s clear there are a number of objections rising to the forefront of Crosshair’s mind, but the man keeps them to himself. There’s a conflict brewing there, Alpha knows, but that’s a matter to address at another time. 

“There’s an area south of here where all comm signals go dead,” Tech announces, tapping furiously at the device mounted on his vambrace. “According to intel, the Wookies call it the Black Forest.”

“Sounds inviting,” Hunter says. “What’s the deal with it?”

“A prison ship crashed there centuries ago,” Tech relays. “The Wookies believe it’s cursed, so they avoid it whenever possible. It’s possible Fordo and whoever was left were driven back by the Seps - or it was a desperate bid and he was banking on the droids not following somewhere they can’t maneuver well. But why cut himself off from allies…?”

“The forward operating base was set up in Kachirho,” Alpha muses aloud “There was another commando squad deployed here, but they were retasked shortly after Order Sixty-six. If Fordo’s here, I doubt he would hang around anywhere with high Imperial activity.”

If he were operating alone, the decision would be simple. But he has the welfare of four other men to consider now; one wrong move, and they’ll all end up on the business end of a blaster.

With that in mind, Alpha looks to Hunter. “Sergeant. What do you think?”

“It’s your call,” Hunter answers. “If you have reason to think your brother is hiding out here, then I think it’s worth taking a look. So long as we go careful, I don’t see why the Imperials should notice us.”

Wrecker’s chuckle fills the comms. “Famous last words.”

_________________________

For all that they have a reputation for being unorthodox - a reputation that is doubtless justly earned - the Bad Batch can pull off stealth pretty well, too. It comes as a bit of a surprise, if Alpha is being honest, but if nothing else the overarching threat of Hunter’s wrath is enough to keep them in line. 

“Keep an eye out for slavers,” Tech warns. “The whole planet has been a hotspot for them ever since the CIS first let them in.”

It’d be just our luck to run into slavers, Alpha thinks wryly. Individually they’re not much of a threat, but a group of Trandoshans spells trouble for anyone. Even without the training to back it up, their brutality can overpower even an ARC trooper. ‘Course, it’d be just like you to get into a mess like that, Fordo…

“We’ll be a bigger target if we travel as a group,” Hunter says. 

“If we split up we might as well ask for a death sentence,” Alpha cautions. Typically his first choice would be to operate alone, but between the slavers, the Imperials, and the remnants of the Separatist forces, he’s starting to think their strength might lie in numbers this time. 

Alpha mulls it over. Greater numbers means slower going. If we split up, we’ll be able to cover more ground. It’ll be risky, but - payoff is worth it. 

“We’ll move faster this way,” Hunter says, echoing Alpha’s thoughts. “Wrecker, Tech, you’re with me. Cross…” He fixes his brother with a stern stare. “Don’t do anything stupid. Alpha has my full permission to stop you by any means necessary.”

Alpha rewards the sergeant with a wolfish grin. “I’ll hold you to that.”

He can’t read Crosshair half as well as the others, but the sniper doesn’t appear altogether displeased. He merely shrugs when Alpha jerks his head towards the route they’ll be following, and trails after him without argument.

Silence lays thick over the jungle. There’s an odd rustle here and there, interspersed with faint growls from time to time, but progress is relatively smooth. Alpha takes pains to remain on guard; just because he can’t see a threat doesn’t mean they’re in the clear. 

Before long the silence is disconcerting. Given the planet’s Wookie population, there should be regular movement around them, or some sign of existence. But this stretch of the jungle is oddly lacking. 

“This doesn’t feel right,” Crosshair mutters. 

“Guess no one’s home,” Alpha answers absently, scrutizining the terrain. “Look - there’s no sign of a fight. Maybe no one was here to begin with.”

“Kachirho isn’t too far from here,” Crosshair points out. “You don’t think it’s a little odd that this path hasn’t been used at all?”

“It is,” Alpha allows, “but look at it this way. We’re traveling the way we’ve been trained to in this kind of setting. The Wookies probably have their own methods for getting around.”

“It’s still weird,” Crosshair decides. “And if your brother really was here, we’d have found evidence of that, too.”

He isn’t wrong, but it nonetheless stings to hear the man voice the doubtful thoughts that have been creeping up on Alpha. Still, we’ve come this far. What have we got to lose?

(More than he’s willing to surrender. But Crosshair doesn’t need to know that.)

“Let’s keep moving,” Alpha says, sharper than he intends. 

“Hang on,” Crosshair says suddenly. “Contact - ”

Alpha pivots in time to see a Trandoshan emerge from the surrounding foliage. The lizard is taller and more solid than he previously anticipated; instead of hitting it head-on like he initially planned, Alpha redirects in order to avoid being gutted on the lizard’s knife. 

He hears the shot and the telltale thump of the lizard falling to the ground. As Alpha picks himself up, Crosshair scans the area through the scope of his rifle. 

“Oh, shab,” the sniper hisses. 

It doesn’t take long for Alpha to locate the cause of Crosshair’s disgruntlement. A group of Trandoshans lurches towards them. Alpha does a rapid assessment: each lizard is packing some sort of ranged weapon - including slugthrowers, he notes unenthusiastically - and most are carrying an assortment of knives.

“Ideas?” Crosshair asks tersely. 

“They’ll just follow us if we run,” Alpha says. “It’ll save us trouble in the long run if we take them now.” 

“I can see why Hunter likes you,” Crosshair says, oddly nonchalant considering the circumstances, and fires. 

With Crosshair covering ranged attacks, Alpha elects the more up-close-and-personal option. The slavers have the advantage of size, but Trandoshans aren’t renowned for their intelligence. As long as he stays in motion the risk of having his throat slit is greatly reduced. 

Alpha targets a straggler first. He hits low, knocking the lizard off balance and sending it staggering into another. The other makes a grab for him, but Alpha is already ramming his vibroblade into the first slaver’s exposed neck. Using the limp body as a buffer, Alpha pushes against the other lizard, trying to force it onto its back foot. 

Just as he feels his opponent’s defense start to give, another three descend on him. Cursing, Alpha throws himself aside before they can hem him in. One of the slavers has enough presence of mind to bring his knife down on Alpha’s unprotected back; the force of the blow has him crashing to the ground. 

Alpha scrambles for a foothold, but one of the lizards seizes his leg in a vicelike grip. He writhes instinctively, kicking out with his other foot. He feels the impact more than sees it and wrenches himself free. 

Just as a third lizard fills the other’s place, there’s a crack from Crosshair’s rifle, and the lizard topples. Alpha springs to his feet to avoid being crushed by several hundred kilos of Trandoshan. The others are wary now, trying to divide their attention between him and Crosshair. 

Alpha doesn’t give them time to choose. This time he uses his blaster to put a round through the closest target. It’s not quite enough to put the lizard out of commission entirely, so he follows up with a quick succession of bolts. 

It’s not exactly an even match, but things aren’t going as badly as he first feared, Alpha thinks. No sooner does the thought cross his mind than his helmet flashes a warning. He turns to deflect the attack coming from behind, but he moves too late and steps directly into the strike. 

The slaver’s curved knife skids off Alpha’s breastplate and sinks into his bodysuit in the gap between the cuirass and the shoulder bell. Alpha manages to pull away, but not before the knife catches the underside of his arm and slices a gash halfway down his bicep.

A line of pain sears through his arm. There’s no doubt the Trandoshan cut deep into the muscle. That arm is effectively useless now; Alpha grimly switches his knife to the other hand. 

He doesn’t have eyes on Crosshair from his current position, but the rasping breaths and occasional curses over the comms suggest the sniper isn’t having an easy time of it either. Time to fall back and reassess.

“Let’s pull back. We might be able to lose them.” Alpha bites the inside of his cheek to suppress a hiss of pain when his wounded arm is jostled. “We can’t take them now, at any rate.”

“You might want to rethink that, alor’ad…”

Crosshair jerks his head to indicate the slavers pouring into the area. There’s a slim chance they’ll be able to slip by, but not without risking serious injury. Slowing down to accommodate a bad hit would mean certain death or capture.

Pinned down. Shabla brilliant. 

Alpha makes an effort to keep his rapidly rising alarm in check. “We’ll have to hold them off, then.”

“There’s no way,” Crosshair objects. “We’re outnumbered eight to one.”

Alpha sends a slaver sprawling rather than answer. He can see it as plainly as Crosshair, but he’s not going to lay down and die, not when his brother is still out there somewhere, not when there’s still a chance they could pull this off -

He hasn’t been this close in weeks and it isn’t his place to gamble anyone else’s life but his own, but even now he can’t bring himself to give in and he understands in a sudden flash of clarity that this is where he will always fail - because he has a foothold, now, and even though all logic points to turning back for once he can’t give in - 

An arm clamps around his neck. Alpha thrashes, trying to throw his attacker off, but now that he’s been caught off guard the lizard has an advantage. His vision begins to blur at the edges and he redoubles his efforts, fueled in no small part by panic at being unable to draw breath. 

He doesn’t know where Crosshair is anymore. He can hardly see beyond his own hands, scrabbling desperately at the arm locked around his neck. 

No sooner does his vision begin to fade than the crushing pressure on his neck abruptly loosens. Alpha hits the ground gracelessly, coughing violently as he tries to inhale. His breath rattles in his throat, but his vision gradually returns. 

He lurches to his feet and assumes a defensive stance as best he can. He’s lost track of how many slavers are still standing - too many is his best estimate.

But the man standing before him isn’t an enemy. He’s -

“Vod,” Fordo says softly. 

Alpha can only stare at his brother in stunned silence, momentarily deaf to the ongoing struggle around them. Fordo....

“Later,” his brother promises. 

______________________

“So how’d you end up running with them?” Fordo asks with a nod towards the Bad Batch. 

“It’s complicated,” Alpha says lightly. “Too much to unpack now, at any rate.”

Fordo laughs. He’s battered and weary, with something lurking in his gaze Alpha can’t quite decipher yet, but it’s Fordo, and that’s more than enough. 

“It’s quiet here,” Fordo remarks. “I like that.”

“‘S nice,” Alpha agrees. 

They’re still hovering just above the surface. Tentative. It’s not exactly what Alpha is accustomed to, but for Fordo’s sake he lets his brother take the lead. 

“Everything’s gone sideways, hasn’t it,” Fordo says suddenly. 

“It has,” Alpha admits. There’s no use pretending otherwise. “But we’ll find a way through.”

Fordo flashes a small smile. “You’re good at that.”

Alpha merely shrugs. There’s a thousand other things he wants to say, but he hasn’t the faintest clue where to begin. Finally he ventures carefully, “Y’know, for a while now I thought this mission did you in.”

Fordo lets out a long sigh. “I was starting to think it might, myself.”

“I…” Alpha breaks off, startled by the sudden pressure behind his eyes. It worsens when he tries to continue. “I don’t know what I would’ve - ”

He falters again. I care more than I should. I never should’ve let that happen, but even now I don’t know if I regret it.

“Alpha,” Fordo says softly, and pulls him into an embrace.

Alpha doesn’t know how much time passes before he finally disentangles himself from Fordo as gently as he can and scrubs at the hot trails on his face. He can’t quite bring himself to feel any shame over it. He’s never been given to such displays, but… Fordo is his vod. 

“So what’s the plan, alor’ad?” Fordo asks with a familiar note of mischief in his voice.

Alpha smiles despite himself. “It’s a big galaxy.”

“We’ve got time.”

“Yeah,” Alpha laughs. “We have time.”

[snowdice]

Little Kestrel (Part 4)[Birds of Different Feathers Series]

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Logan & Patton & Virgil (future Virgil/Patton but not in this story)

Characters:

Main: Logan, Patton, Virgil

Appear: Thomas

Mentioned: Janus

Summary:

It was supposed to be a quick job either way. Either Virgil would assassinate King Thomas of Prijaznia or he’d be caught and get executed. Yet, when Virgil gets the wrong bedroom and gets caught by Prince Logan and his future royal advisor, Patton, the job ends up getting way more complicated for the 14-year-old. He also ends up sleeping in a (actually pretty comfortable) closet for a few weeks…

Notes: Implied/referenced child abuse, assassination attempt, knives, torture mentioned, captivity, teenagers being really dumb

This is a prequel to Kill Dear. I wrote it 100 words at a time on my blog, but this is the edited version. If you want to see how it was crafted, look at the tag proofread stories.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Logan’s statement did not appear to go over well with the small assassin. He went still and curled over into himself as though to protect his more vulnerable areas. Honestly, Logan thought agitated, Logan hadn’t threatened any bodily harm. He’d even prefaced the statement with an apology even though he didn’t feel as though he had anything to apologize for! Just like father had taught him!

Patton shot him a glare, telling him he was somehow in the wrong despite the fact that he’d been the one who was almost assassinated. Logan grumbled and returned to quietly sulking in the background while Patton cooed at the assassin, trying to cajole him out of the ball he’d wrapped himself into.

Logan did have to admit the situation was odd. He was young. He didn’t even know anyone trained assassins so young. His kingdom did have a guild of trained assassins/spies, but one couldn’t even join the military until one was of age (though they could start training at 16 with special permission) and all assassins must have at least a year of military training before being considered. It would be years more before they were sent out on actual missions.

So, where had this young boy came from? Surely, he wasn’t acting of his own volition, especially considering his age and temperament. What was his or whoever had sent him’s greater purpose? One didn’t attempt the risky act of regicide without some reasoning. Why did he only have one weapon? Most hired killers would be provided with a backup at the very least and more than likely an arsenal. Why was he acting so skittish? It was a strange attitude for a trained killer.

He had piqued Logan’s curiosity and Logan wanted answers.

“There, see?” Patton was saying. He was hand feeding more of the cookie to the assassin who looked just as startled by this fact the second time around as the first. “How about a compromise?”

Logan eyed him suspiciously. He was willing to let Patton lead since Logan was well aware of his own shortcomings when it came to tact, but his friend also had a bit of a bleeding heart. Logan refused to let him put himself at risk.

Ironically, the assassin seemed to be on the same page as Logan. His eyes tracked Patton distrustfully. “Compromise?” he echoed.

“Yes!” Patton said, unconcerned with the blatant discomfort in the room.

“We’ll ask you a question and you answer it,” Patton said. “Then you can ask a question and we’ll answer that. Then we can keep going back and forth like that.”

The assassin seemed unsure about this, but he slowly nodded. “What’s your question?” he asked.

Patton looked back at Logan and inclined his head. Logan took a step forward. “Who are you?” Logan asked. The assassin hesitated.

“Maybe a more specific question,” Patton suggested. “We’ve got plenty of time and ‘who are you?’ is a bit of a big question. There are so many different answers!”

“Very well,” Logan agreed. “Let’s start with, what’s your name?”

The assassin considered him, looking overly cautious for such a mundane question. “It’s Virgil,” he said after a moment.

“Last name?” Logan prompted.

“I-” he hesitated, looking distressed. “I don’t have one.”

“You don’t have one?” Logan asked.

And… he was curling up into a ball again. “Sorry,” he said softly. He started to cry again.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, hey,” Patton soothed. “That was good.”

Logan frowned. It was not ‘good’. It had given them basically no information. “Why-”

“It’s Virgil’s turn to ask a question, Logan,” Patton said. Logan almost groaned. This was going to take forever, wasn’t it?

Virgil’s eyes bounced between them. “Why haven’t you called someone to take me away yet?” he asked.

“We wanted to ask you a few questions ourselves before getting the castle guards involved,” Logan answered.

“Are…” he shut his mouth, likely realizing he’d have to wait for his next question.

Logan considered him. “Why do you have no last name?” Logan asked.

Virgil looked away. “I’m an orphan. I don’t know who my parents were, and no one bothered to give me one.”

“Ah, that makes sense,” Logan acknowledged. “And your question?”

“Are…” Virgil said. “Are you going to torture me if I don’t answer something right?”

Patton let out a little pained exhale.

“Why would we do that?” Logan asked.

“Why wouldn’t you do that?” he replied.

“Where the hell are you from where that’s a question?”

“Why the hell should I tell you?”

“Why the hell would you be defending a place that makes you think that’s a normal question?”

“What the fuck are you even on about?”

“Okay,” Patton cut Logan off before he retorted in kind. “I think that’s enough of the question game at the moment.” He stood up and walked back over to the plate of cookies.

“He-” Logan started to grouse and got a sugar cookie pushed into his mouth to silence him.

Logan frowned around the cookie as Patton went back and offered the other cookie to Virgil. Virgil turned his head away from it. Logan’s eyes watched the assassin as Patton thought for a moment and then tore a bit of the cookie off. He ate the bite himself before offering the cookie again. This Virgil was a suspicious thing, Logan thought as the boy slowly ate a bite of cookie.

It made Logan’s curiosity itch even more, but at this rate he wasn’t going to get any answers. He polished off the sugar cookie and then walked over to sit on the floor next to where Patton was kneeling.

Virgil watched him move and Logan met his eyes. “No, by the way,” Logan thought to answer. “We aren’t going to hurt you.”

Logan tried not to bristle at the disbelieving look on his face. Logically that distrust had nothing to do with Logan personally, but with whatever his experiences were before this.

Logan tilted his head at him. “Why the one knife?”

Virgil blinked at that. “What?”

“The knife,” Logan reiterated. “You were clearly here to use it, but you only have one. It seems odd.”

“Uh…” Virgil said. “I don’t know. That’s all they gave me.”

Logan nodded. “Me or my dad?” he asked. “Or both?”

Virgil clearly didn’t want to answer. “The king,” he said.

Logan nodded, and it suddenly hit him exactly what would have occurred if he and Patton hadn’t happened to be awake. Virgil seemed to see the realization on his face. He braced himself as though expecting to be struck. Logan felt suddenly nauseous, the idea of a dead father hitting a bit too close to home after…

“And the guards?” Logan asked.

“I didn’t,” Virgil rushed to say. “Just a light sleeping potion. They probably didn’t even notice anything happen.”

“Okay,” Logan said. “Good.”

“What are you going to do with me?” Virgil asked.

“We’ll hand you over to the guards,” Logan said. “They’ll figure out what to do with you from there.”

He nodded, looking small, and Logan refused to feel guilty for it. Virgil had come here with the intention of killing Logan’s dad! Logan had no reason to feel guilty about turning him in. Besides, it wasn’t as though any of them were going to hurt or kill a literal child. Dad would never let them anyway. He’d be fine! There was no reason for his sad eyes that seemed almost too big for his face to make Logan want to squirm uncomfortably.

Logan sighed. “Are you still hungry?” he asked. “We do actually have more than just cookies in spite of Patton’s efforts.”

“We don’t have any more jam though because of Logan’s efforts earlier,” Patton said sweetly. Logan pursed his lips but didn’t deny it. Instead he just walked over to where they’d stored their extra snacks.

“How about some cheese?” Logan suggested, “and perhaps some milk to drink?”

“Why are you trying to feed me?” Virgil asked.

“Because you look hungry. Are you?”

He bit his lip and nodded. They split up the cheese between the three of them which seemed to soothe Virgil’s worry of poison. He ate what they offered him without complaint and drank most of the milk.

Logan managed to squeeze a few more answers out of the boy, but nowhere near enough to satiate his curiosity. Eventually, morning came, and Logan sighed. “We should probably…” he said, “turn you in.”

The boy looked like he might burst into sobs, but he just hung his head. Another stab of that unfounded guilt shot through Logan and the frown on Patton’s face just made it worse.

“I’ll talk to my father first,” Logan promised. “He’s a kind man. Nothing bad will happen to you.”

Virgil clearly didn’t believe him, but Logan knew it would be okay in the end.

“We should probably hide him before we leave though,” Logan told Patton. “Just in case.”

Patton nodded and looked around. “Closet?”

“That will be adequate,” Logan agreed. He turned to Virgil. “Those bracelets make your arms stay in place as you have seen, but I can move them at will. I’ll take your arms and guide you to the closet. You walk behind me. Understand?”

Virgil nodded and Logan picked up both of his wrists, pulling his arms in front of him and then using his grip to help the boy stand. He didn’t resist being pulled to his feet or led to the closet.

“Alright, let’s go,” Logan said. Patton had on his unhappy face, but Logan did his best to ignore it. This was the correct decision. He and Patton left his bedroom and crossed to his dad’s room. Logan knocked. He’d expected that he’d have to wake his father since it was still very early in the morning, so he was surprised when the door opened before Logan had even finished knocking.

“Logan,” Father said. “I was just coming to see you.” He was already dressed, and Logan raked his brain for any early morning appointments for today and came up blank.

“What about?” Logan asked.

“There’s been word that Lamir’s new Queen may be considering an alliance with Mocnejsi. Seeing as I knew her mother fairly well, I’m hoping I can talk her out of it,” he said.

“What should I do?” Logan asked.

Father turned back into the room. “You’ll stay here and oversee things while I’m gone,” he told Logan over his shoulder. “I’ll only be gone for three weeks and there is nothing major that will need to happen. Just make sure everything runs like usual.”

“You’re going to be gone for three weeks?” Logan asked.

“Yes,” Father confirmed.

Logan glanced at Patton who had turned to him, hands clasped and was shooting him his best pleading expression. “Okay,” Logan said, “have a nice trip.”

Want to read more? Click below!

Part 5

[reluctant-mandalore]

The First of Many: Part II (Din Djarin x Reader)

 The Mandalorian in recent days has become quite cold to you after your wonderfully failed, kind of, confession. Desperate to not have the man of your affections hate you completely, you attempt to mend your friendship by trying to forget your feelings altogether. However, things like that never seem to go to plan. 

Part I || Part II

Word Count:  2,804

Warnings: Angst. Sad little reader. Pining. Slow burn with a little bit of fluff. Just a dash at this point thou. 

a/n: Hello~! Here is the long awaited part 2! School has been stressful ever since I returned from having surgery. Hopefully I can get back into writing more frequently soon! I have some requests lined up that I can’t wait to dish out :3 Also, anyone who wanted to be tagged on the first part has been tagged at the the bottom! 

  Months had passed since your beautifully failed confession, if you could even call it that, to the Mandalorian. You had hoped that with time your Mandalorian companion would begin to open up to you once more. Maybe possibly mending your now strained friendship. Of course, with your luck, the exact opposite happened. If anything the bubbling relationship between you two had dwindled down to a fine point. Mando had been avoiding you like the plague and his attitude towards you had worsened significantly.

  Whenever possible, he would find a reason to leave the room and would barely utter a word to you unless he deemed it necessary. When he did speak it was curt and often filled with a feeling of annoyance. He wouldn’t even look in your direction at this point. Choosing to ignore your presence all together at times. As it seemed, Mando had appeared to have turned to hating you all together. It truly looked like your feelings were unrequited and very much unwanted.  

  Due to his cold behaviour towards you, you at first tried to get over your feelings for him. Hoping that if he noticed, maybe things would go back to how they were before. You tried to tell yourself to just let those feelings disappear, he obviously didn’t feel the same, but letting them go was easier said than done. These feelings had clawed at you, begged you to release them, to let them thrive. You resisted them the best you could, not wanting to bother Mando with your unwanted feelings anymore. Knowing that he hadn’t appreciated them in the slightest. You had decided to try and shove them down deep, trying to act as if they weren’t there are all. Hoping this would fix whatever had broken between you two. 

  Anytime they attempted to escape. you fought harder to keep them at bay. With every inch they took to freedom, you took two inches back, pushing them into the darkness of your soul. Fighting desperately to ignore them and forget that they ever existed. However, no matter how much you tried to forget them, in the end your heart wanted other things. At times you found your emotions spilling over and out. They grasped for the Mandalorian, trying to pull him to you and yet they failed every time, only pushing him farther from you. Your heart, mind, and soul, were at a total war with each other. Fighting for dominance over how to deal with these romantic feelings you possessed for Mando. 

  Did you try and mend what had been broken? Did you try to get over your crush? Did you just come clean to him? Should you confront him about it? Maybe you should apologize for upsetting him? Should you just quit working for him and leave all together? 

 So many questions left unanswered swarmed in your mind and you honestly didn’t know how to handle the situation. Mando was becoming increasingly hard to deal with in regards to his attitude and behaviour to you. It felt as if he was offended by your feelings all together. Maybe he was? Maybe you had stepped over a boundary that he had set for himself. 

   In the end, you decided that it may be better to mend what was broken. In other words, not wanting for the bounty hunter to completely dislike you, lead to you beginning to try and fix your friendship with him. It was fine if he didn’t return your feelings, you’d get over them eventually. Right? 

  This didn’t mean you two had to stop being friends. However, no matter what you tried, it seemed like even a friendship at this point was out of the question. Any conversations you tried to start with the man were easily shut down and when you would enter a room he was in, he would find a reason to leave it as soon as possible. He was avoiding you at all costs, only every interacting with you if it had to be done. Had you really offended him that much? 

  The realization that maybe relationships weren’t part of his religion had dawned on you the one day. There was a possibility that the Mandalorian people didn't like to have those types of relationships. Maybe even not being allowed to have them at all. If this was the case, it was likely you had stepped over a boundary which he had set up for himself and you had made him uncomfortable. Of course, you wouldn’t know for sure until you could ask him about it. Which would not be happening soon as he clearly did not want to interact with you at all in the slightest. 

Why did these kinds of things always happen to you?

  At this point you were just trying to not get fired, but at the same time if he did dislike you as much as he put on, maybe it would be better if you did leave. The last couple days on the Razor Crest had your thoughts consumed by the Mandalorian and the possibility of you leaving your position as the on board babysitter. It might be better that way. Not only for the both of you, but for the child as well.

   It had become very obvious that you two were no longer getting along and you were afraid that it would affect the child. To see two of his most favourite people in the galaxy behaving the way you two were could be difficult for him and would not be good for his development. The child was very important to you and you adored him to no end. You couldn’t bare to see him upset over such grievances. 

  The child's happiness on your mind, you had decided to bring up the issue to Mando. The main issue being your employment of course and the downgrade of your relationship to the adoptive father. If you were to keep working for him, both of you needed to act like adults and work out your problems. If these problems couldn’t be resolved then you would have to resign. Simple and yet heartbreaking all the same. You didn’t want to leave, but you might have to at this point. Even though he had been pretty dedicated to not talking to you, you knew he would talk to you about these issues if it was for the child's continued well being. He cared after the child more than anything. You knew that, saw it every day. He would do anything for that kid. 

  Finding him in the cockpit, you had intended to lay everything out right away, only for the Madnalorian to turn to you and be the first to talk. However, it wasn’t wasn’t for the same reason as you. Caught off guard by him actually addressing you first, you almost missed what he had said. He was informing you that he had found a job while at the local cantina earlier. Hearing this, your previous thoughts from earlier had completely left your mind. The more details from him you heard, the more worried you became about the job. You had a mauled over the details for most of the day after hearing them, starting to become very concerned the more you thought about it. 

  As he had begun to get ready for his departure, you had tried to express to him your concerns in regards to the job, but he seemed to strike them down each time.   

“I have to complete this job, I already accepted it anyway.” The beskar covered man had said to you, his voice sounding irritated through the modulator as he gathered up whatever he would need on this job. You weren’t happy with his answer, biting the inside of your cheek as you watched him go about the Razor Crest. 

  In all honesty, this job sounded more dangerous when compared to the others, at least, to you it had. To the hunter it may have just been a walk in the park, but to you, it just seemed too risky. Not only that, but Mando would be gone for much longer than he usually would when he left for jobs. A few days was very normal, the longest before now was just under a week. However, this time he would be leaving you alone with the child on the Razor Crest for at least 2 weeks, maybe longer if things went sour.  You understood that before now jobs this long were probably normal for him, but now he had the child and you to worry about. Leaving you two alone for that amount of time seemed far too long in your opinion. What if someone attacked while he was gone? You knew some basic defense, all of which Mando had taught you, but you definitely could not fight off another bounty hunter if they came for the kid. 

  Another thought had clawed at your mind though, which was the Mandalorian’s safety. Lately, he seemed to be taking riskier and more dangerous jobs. Before, the jobs seemed tamed and very simple. Some of them you could probably complete on your own if you really wanted to, mind you, that may be stretching the truth just a bit. You highly doubted you could ever be a bounty hunter like he was. You’ve seen him work a couple of times and honestly you knew just how good he was, probably one of the best. So, you weren’t ever too concerned when he left on jobs, but now? He just seemed to be throwing himself at the most difficult of jobs with the most deadly bounties tied to them.

 “Don’t you think you’ve already risked your life enough these past couple weeks? I mean…” You trailed off trying to collect your thoughts, wanting to put it in a way which didn’t offend the man before you. “It just seems too risky this time and you’ll be gone for so long.”  

 “Everything will be fine, I’m the Mandarloian here aren’t I?” He replied quickly, almost defensively. You hadn’t meant for it to sound like you were doubting his ability, you were truly just concerned. Obviously, you had failed at doing so as now his posture was more stiff and stand offish, signalling a more defensive nature from him. 

“What if it doesn’t turn out fine? What if the worst happens?” He seemed to pause at your words this time, his body stiffening as you continued, “What would the kid and I do without you?” 

“Listen-”

 You cut him off before he could finish his words, worried etched upon your features, “-We need you. The child needs you. I need you. We won’t survive if something happens to you Mando.” 

  Your head lowered and your gaze shifted as you felt tears begin to form at the corners of your eyes at the dreadful thoughts running through your find. Not wanting to seem weak before the Mandalorian, you had tried to stop your tears and continue your thoughts to him, only to be cut off by his own actions. His gloved fingers had suddenly come up to grasp your chin, pointing it up towards him and making you stare up into his helmet’s visor. 

  At first you were worried you had overstepped again, that you had insulted him in some way. You had wanted to make him happy with you once more, not more upset, but you never seemed to say or do the right things. It appeared that he was going to lay into you about your unwanted opinion on the matter. Instead, to your surprise, his other hand came to wipe at your tears as they began to roll down your cheeks. 

“I won’t let anything like that happen. I especially won’t let that happen to you.” His voice came out softly through the modulator, “This is my way of life. It’s risky and not the most fair, but this is the way.” 

  Silence had fallen between you two at his words. Nothing was being uttered anymore as you just gazed up at him, your tears beginning to dry and a flush replacing them in their wake. This was the closest you had been to the Mandalorian ever since that incident months ago. Your heart soared for being in such closeness to the man of your affections, especially after all that had happened.

  He almost appeared to be admiring your features, allowing his thumb to run against your bottom lip softly. His other hand was firmly on your lower back now, holding you close to him, allowing his body to press into yours just enough to remind you of your closeness. He was embracing you, holding you close to him just as any normal lover would. 

Now you were just confused beyond belief. 

   Didn’t he hate you? He had made that quite apparent in the last couple months. Why was he embracing you? He couldn’t have hated you if he was holding you like this. On one hand, you were thrilled as your worry about Mando disliking you disappeared. On the other hand, you were still very confused about the closeness. Mando had been avoiding you like the plague for months now, acting as if he had straight up hated you to the very core. Why was he suddenly acting so nice to you? Did something change? Maybe he liked you this whole time and the whole grumpy attitude was just some weird Madnalorian courting thing? You really should as him more about his way of life. One thing was for certain, and that was the fact that the Mandalorian was confusing as hell when it came to social cues. 

  For months, you had fought to keep your feelings at bay, trying to extinguish the flame in your heart that yearned for him. You stomped on those feelings, threw them to the wind and spat on them. Only to pick up the pieces again and sulk at how weak you felt for letting such a little crush control you the way it did. Everything in your being tried to forget those feelings. Trying to forget how much it hurt to not have them returned while desperately grasping at whatever little friendship you still had with the Mandalorian. Thinking that it would be for the best if you did. Yet, here you were, being embraced by the man you swore hated you just a second ago. 

  At this point, the feelings you had so tiredly tried to ignore for the past weeks had started pouring out of you. Leaning towards the Beskar cladded man and settling into his embrace, one of your hands came to place itself firmly on his chest, “Mando…” His nickname leaving your lips in a hushed whisper. 

  A small intake of breath could be heard through his modulator, almost like a gasp, at hearing you speak his nickname so sweetly. His grip on you tightened and he leaned in closer to you as well, his form towering over your smaller one. From this closeness you could feel the heat of him, even through all the armor he wore. The smell of leather and blaster powder was evident, radiating from him to you in waves. At this point you were a mere inches from him, one step forward is all it would take to press that sinful kiss to his helmet. The need to kiss him grew the longer you peered up at him. Did you dare? Would he even let you? You hoped so.  

  Standing on the tips of your toes, you moved closer, your eyes fluttering shut as you went to finally kiss the man you had been wanting all this time. Then suddenly, it stopped. He had seemed to collect himself at this moment, remembering what he was doing and who he was with.

 He straightened now, peering down at your flushing expression, letting go of you in the process before trying to look in any direction that wasn’t you. He cleared his throat, his voice coming out strained, “I need to get going.”

You felt your heart sink again, though admittedly, a new flicker of hope had begun to burn in you, “Yes... of course.”

Gathering his things, the Mandaloiran stood at the exit, staring in at the rolling hills of sand which the planet possessed. He seemed to be thinking to himself pondering on what to say next before turning to face you once more. 

“Wait for me. I’ll be back soon.” With those last words to you, he was off, making his way into the distance. You watched his form weave through the tall dunes, a hand over your beating heart and the other coming up to trace your bottom lip just as he had. 

  You had many questions for the Mandalorian upon his return. 

-----

Tags: Everyone who wanted to be tagged should be here. If I missed anyone or missed pinged I’m sorry!! 

@ holamor @ jellyfishpoptart @ jamesdeerest @retrofaek @morgannope @ lokilover-39 @ twentyonelaris @ murdermewithbooks

[ynscrazylife]

Ayo, I hope you’re having a good winter break! I have a request that I would *love* for you to write, I love like all your work ofc ofc. I’d really like a yn fic where like we were in the red room with Yelena, and then went dif ways once it broke down. We meet again on different sides of a mission, and have to fight which is tricky but in like a frenemies kind of way? Basically though we lose the fight and wake up to Yelena like taking care of us, but like in a begrudging enemies to friends way?

We’ve Gotta Stop Meeting Like This | y.b angst fluff fic

Summary: Yelena’s allegiances change when Y/N turns out to be her enemy on a mission.

Authors Note: Thank you for requesting!

Request to be on a taglist (or multiple) here! (Taglists are at the end of the fic)

Main Masterlist | MCU Masterlist #1 | MCU Masterlist #2

PSA: Do NOT copy, steal, translate, plagiarize, republish, etc any of my works on Tumblr or any other platform. Also, do NOT claim any of my works as your own. All of these works are either requests I’ve gotten that people have wanted me to write or original ideas I’ve had for works. If you happen to take inspiration from anything I’ve written and want to write something inspired by that, please a) ask me first and b) IF I say yes, credit me as inspo in your post by tagging me and link whatever work of mine that inspired you. Thanks.

header c @/piratanjo

Yelena was seconds away from metaphorically punching the annoying voice in her head, doing her best to ignore it as she lingered outside of the Widows’ training room. A voice that some would call a conscious, Yelena simply called it a bitch.

She knew it had a valid point, which only angered her more. She had to move and grab the cure from where Melina had directed her, but couldn’t bring herself to move her legs. If only the Widows would just turn around so she could see if—

And there she was.

Yelena hadn’t seen or spoken to Y/N in over a year—their last conversation being Y/N informing Yelena that she was going to be sent back to the Red Room. She hadn’t known how long Y/N was going to be in the Red Room, but if there was a chance she was still here, Yelena had to wait. It turned out to pay off, but it was a bittersweet discovery. She couldn’t deny her happiness and relief at seeing her best friend again, if only it wasn’t under these conditions.

The knowledge that Y/N was there was enough to propel Yelena towards the cure. She could only hope that the cure would work.

“I have another job for you, dear.”

Yelena did her very best to refrain from rolling her eyes at that too high, too sweet, too frequent voice that drifted into her ears. Her hand tightened on Fanny’s leash and she leaned against the tree her dog had been sniffing at, blowing some hair out of her face.

“A phone call would have done it, Valentina,” Yelena pointed out, biting back a scowl. The first time she had done a job for this woman was okay. It was nothing harsh and she got good money out of it. The second time? Yelena wasn’t aware that this would be an ongoing gig, but Fanny didn’t stop barking for those expensive treats, so she gave in.

Now? She was tired of it.

“I prefer to do my business the old-fashion way. Technology can be so . . . Iffy, which is why I need you for this job: I located an inhuman with strong powers involving the corruption of technology. Do you know how useful that would be? There’s only one problem — he’s being monitored by some S.H.I.E.L.D. agents for past problems they’ve had with him. I need you to make sure they won’t interfere with my plans,” Valentina explained, her smirk growing.

“And while I handle the agents, your plans are?” Yelena inquired, having decided to humor her. Natasha had mentioned something to her about S.H.I.E.L.D . . . Getting involved in her sister’s former spy agency may be risky, and she was sure Valentina knew that.

Valentina jutted her chin into the air, seemingly quite proud of herself. “The inhuman and I have been in correspondance. When the agents are distracted, we can finally talk business,” she answered.

Yelena raised her eyebrows. “What’s in it for me? You are aware of who my sister is, yes?” She taunted, lowering her head as she gave her “boss” a knowing look.

Valentina slipped her phone out of her pocket, flipping it around to show the blonde an image. Yelena couldn’t deny the temptation: it was a briefcase full of thick stacks of money.

“Maybe with this you can throw your sister a proper funeral.”

Yelena grit her teeth, refusing to look up at the brunette woman. She knew if she did and Valentina wore her stupid smug smile, she’d punch her in the face and ruin her chance.

— — — — — — — — — — — — —

Was she making the right decision here? If her sister was alive and saw her going against S.H.I.E.L.D., what would she think? Oh, god, what if those agents used to be coworkers of Natasha’s? Yelena peered through the vent where she had been stationed, down into the room where the agents were talking.

“Do you wanna listen to any music?” One agent said to the other.

“Sure,” the other agent said. “Who let the fox out?”

“Yeah!” The first agent said and they high-hived.

Well. They were definitely not coworkers of Natasha’s. Yelena sighed, deciding not to dwell on this. She was too in deep now to back out.

The feeling of her phone vibrating in her pocket tugged her back into the real world. She glanced down at it to see Valentina’s contact name and a text saying: “Ready.”

With a soft sigh, Yelena maneuvered herself around and kicked out the vent. As it clanged to the ground, she jumped down, landing in her sister’s signature pose. Both agents jumped back, startled. She used that to her advantage to kick their legs and make them fall. Yelena went after the right one first, knocking him unconscious with just a few punches.

The other agent stumbled to get his footing and clumsily grabbed Yelena, but she shook his grip off easily and slammed him into the wall.

“You have five seconds to stand down before I make you,” a new voice said.

Yelena had been standing facing the vent she had just come out of, and when she heard the person, was transported back years.

“Oh my—Yelena?”

Yelena tore her gaze away from her sister long enough for her eyes to find the agent, and a smile bloomed onto her face when she locked onto the face of her dear friend Y/N. Y/N had been like a younger sister to her before.

“Hey,” she said, matching her friend’s grin. After a short moment of hesitation, Yelena stepped away from Natasha and embraced Y/N. This. This is the moment she had been waiting for ever since Y/N was sent away.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” Y/N whispered tearfully.

“And I’m glad you’re okay,” Yelena said.

Ironically, compared to past experiences, the former Widow found herself wishing that the person behind her wasn’t Y/N — which felt strange and unnatural to even consider.

She almost abandoned her mission right then and there. Almost let her guard down and turned around to face Y/N, because that had to be her. No one else had that distinctive of a voice that could implant itself in her memory. But she didn’t know what had led Y/N here and she needed the money, so she couldn’t surrender just yet. At least she had some advantage, because she was wearing a mask, Y/N wouldn’t tell it was her.

Yelena turned around. Thank god she was wearing her mask, because she couldn’t deny her surprise that it was actually Y/N. “Who are you?” She said in the strongest tone she could muster, standing tall.

A quick flash of confusion washed over Y/N’s face before she hid it, and that told Yelena that something was familiar to her. Would she catch on?

“You thought you disabled all the alarms when you entered, right? Well, there was one that you missed. When my friends, some high-up S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, got the message, they asked me if I could check it out. I was in the area,” Y/N answered, shrugging. She took a step forward, eyes flickering to the unconscious agents on the ground. “Who are you?”

When Yelena didn’t answer — really, what could she have said? — Y/N took another step. “Who. Are. You?” She repeated, frowning.

Yelena jutted her chin into the air. “I don’t want to fight you,” she said, and it was the truth.

Y/N merely scoffed. “Is that why you took down those two? Whatever your plan was, you’re not getting away with it,” she said, and quickly leapt into action. She shoved Yelena into the wall, which she took with a grunt.

Now what? She had to fight back. It would be suspicious otherwise. If Y/N beat her and unmasked her then there was no getting out of this now.

The two went back-and-forth, neither gaining the upper hand for long. They went all around the room, until they ended up in the positions they started in. Looking over Y/N’s shoulder, Yelena caught a quick glance at Valentina in the doorway, her arm outstretched. Shit. Yelena recognized that device. If she used it on Y/N, like she was surely planning to, that would definitely hurt like hell.

“I’m sorry,” Yelena muttered, before she grabbed Y/N and picked her up, then quickly slammed her against the ground. She didn’t get up, just laid there unconscious.

“Good work,” Valentina complimented, and that caused Yelena to tear her eyes away from Y/N’s unconscious form as the guilt began to pool. “You’ll get the cash soon.”

With that, the businesswoman walked off. When Yelena was sure that she was gone, she stepped back, assessing the situation with a mix between a huff and sigh. The two agents didn’t concern her, but Y/N did. She couldn’t just leave her there.

Squatting, Yelena carefully draped Y/N’s arms over her shoulders, nudging her head so that it was leaned against her shoulder. Then, she stood up and quietly left the building, careful not to bump Y/N into anything along the way.

— — — — — — — — — — — — —

When Y/N came to, the first thing she sensed was a cool and soft sheet underneath her. Scrunching up her face, and waking up more, she realized that her head and left arm were bandaged tightly. Y/N couldn’t hear anything and there was no harsh light as far as she could tell, so she must not be in any danger.

This caused her to open her eyes, blinking a couple times to take in her surroundings. She definitely didn’t recognize this place, but knew that she had been resting on a couch. Looking over, her eyebrows crinkled with confusion when she saw the back of a long blonde’s head, but her eyes soon widened when the blonde turned around and showed her her face.

“Yelena?” She asked (more like croaked with her hoarse throat), not believing what she was actually saying. It couldn’t be her, could it?

The blonde met her eyes and gave her a sad, pitied smile. “Hello,” she greeted, her thick Russian accent making Y/N sit straight up, before wincing in pain.

“How—?” She asked, before remembering the events from earlier that day. “You knocked me out!”

Yelena averted her gaze to the ground and nodded, walking closer and sitting down on an armchair across from her. “I’m sorry,” she apologized, and appeared to truly mean it. “Trust me, I didn’t enjoy it. The woman who hired me was about to do something a lot more painful to you if I didn’t do something first.”

Y/N relaxed, leaning against the couch cushions. “Why did you go against S.H.I.E.L.D.?” She asked, changing the subject.

Yelena stood up and turned to her table, grabbing a glass of beer and taking a long sip of it before answering. “Money,” was all she said.

Y/N frowned and looked straight ahead at the wall. “I know it’s been . . . Rough to say the least, but I can’t do this, Yelena. Please don’t close up. Not with me,” she said, sighing as she recalled how fond she was of her and Yelena’s friendship.

There was a long beat and it felt like torture. “If you’re worried about our friendship being lost because we’ve barely spoken for the last couple years, then you’re worrying for nothing. I mean, we just did a classic Y/N and Yelena thing,” the Russian said.

Y/N turned to her friend curiously. “What’s that?” She asked cluelessly.

A smirk slid onto Yelena’s face. “We met on opposite sides again. Today, in the Red Room in 2016, and . . . Do you remember when we met? We mistook each other for the enemy,” she pointed out, chuckling at the memory.

This brought a smile to Y/N’s previously disappointed demeanor. “Do you think it’s time we stop meeting like that?” She asked.

Yelena shrugged, walking over and sitting beside Y/N on the couch. “Probably,” she admitted.

Permanent Taglist: @natasharomanoffismywife @hehehehannahthings @paulawand @blackbat2020 @cerberus-spectre @marrymemcgraph @kathryndimitrescu @snipyloulou​ @big-galaxy-chaos @cc13723things​  @passionswift @drayshadow @amaryllis23

MCU Taglist: @stephanieromanoff @summerlovingbaby @ineffablebean @okkulta @procrastinatingsapphictrash @prettysbliss @caseyfish-blog @sarahp-stan @thewidowsghost @basiclesbianbitch @mycosmicparadise @kidswhofightmonsters @xtraordinaryfangrl @peggycarter-steverogers @username23345 @ima-gi--na-tion​ @hi-i-1 @mmmmokdok @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @mads-weasley @tenaciousperfectionunknown @afraid-to-be-me @lilclownx @acertainredhead @natromanoffxox @lilymurphy03 @thanossexual @avengersz-biotch @kozumekoi @mjaudrey @un-name-d @leyannrae @buckyandstevesbitch @kuzomekou-blog @nylevea @suckerfornatstits @bentleywolf29  @bunnyweasley23 @ss @pianogirl2121 @@beth-gallagher22 @pleasantbearscissorstoad @marvelwomen-simp​

[har-rison-s]

pretty

request: Can I get a Stan Uris request? Reader is Bill’s older sister, maybe 15 while The Losers are 13, and the boys have a sleepover at the Denbrough house. She’s taking a shower and she forgets her towel so she yells for Bill to fetch her one but Stan is the one to hear her, so he gives her the towel. She notices he’s blushing and asks him what’s wrong, and he’s never seen her in a towel before and he blurts out that she’s pretty and it’s all cute and she’s like “you’re pretty, too, Stan”

A/N: What a cliché title.... Hi. Risky, risky, eheheheheh. Anyways, let's do this. An interesting and realistic, actually, request. At least I think so. I expect this to be a short one, but that's not bad. While this age difference made me squint a little, it's okay. Not if you're older, alright? I do not promote underage/of-age relationships. Happy reading!

IT masterlist

main masterlist

gif credit goes to owner!

Coca Cola cans, chip packets, crackers, water, jelly beans and bears, sour candy, slices of watermelon. Video games, cartoon series, board games, card games, television programs and films. Pyramids of cups, smelly socks, hats, pillows and plates. The perfect combo of a teenage boys' slumber party. 

A perfect weekend for the boys. The Denbrough kids' mother decided to let their kids have fun alone, do whatever they want, for a weekend. She and her husband drove up state to visit her parents. They warned the kids not to burn the house down, and, boy, did Bill's friends try.

Y/N was already used to Bill's friends causing chaos everywhere they went, always being loud and quite annoying, she must admit. Especially trash-mouth Richie. She couldn't stand him. But, like said, she had gotten used to them and their loudness. At least there were only four of them, and they were younger.

“Don't tell me Brooke Shields is home, too.” Richie begs his friend. They've been playing board games for hours, the MTV channel serving as background noise and when they switched channels, they heard music coming from upstairs. The Losers Club immediately looked at Bill.

“Sh-sh-she doesn't mind us being here.” Bill says, innocently.

“But it's weird. She hears everything.” Eddie states. Stanley sighs.

“She has music on, dumbass.” He tells his friend, eyes narrowed.

“Or rather, we can hear everything.” Richie says with a thick essence of mischief in his voice.

“Beep-beep, Rich.” Stan says, sighing along with the other two. 

“Say, Bill, does she have a boyfriend? Maybe he's coming over tonight?” Richie keeps pestering his best friend.

“Shut up, R-R-Richie.” Bill responds, careless to go any further with this stupid conversation. Richie snickers and looks at Eddie, waiting for him to join in laughing, but he doesn't.

“Bill, do you have Monopoly?” Stanley asks and Bill nods.

“In m-my room, up-upstairs.” He tells Stan.

“I'll get it, then.” The boy decides and walks to the living room's door to get to the stairs. 

“We all know what he's gonna do up there. And it ain't gonna be Monopoly.” Richie comments, which earns him a nasty glare from Stanley and a punch to his side from Bill himself. 

“Th-that's my-my sister you're talk-talking about.” Stanley hears Bill say to Richie.

Y/N decided to hop into a shower before she settles for watching a movie in her parents room and then going to bed. It is ten pm on a Friday night already, and she's got her friends coming over tomorrow, so she needs to have a good night's sleep. Even with her brother's never resting friends in the house.

She left the music in her room on while showering, but she also left her clean towel in the downstairs washing room. She realised it only when she was done showering - that there were no towels in her bathroom. Shit. She hopes Bill can hear her, she did hear him coming up the stairs.

“Billy!” She yells as loud as she can. 

Stan almost falls off the stool he uses to get to the top shelf from hearing Bill's sister yelling. Bill has a bad habit of putting board games on the highest shelf in his room. And she definitely has a loud voice. 

“Bill!” She yells again when there's no response. Not more than half a minute later there's a knock on her door. 

“It's Stan, not Bill.” The boy says through the door. “Do you need some help?”

“Oh, hi, Stan. Come in, the door is open and I'm in the shower.” She simply says. Stanley hesitates, but creaks open the door. “I'm in quite a crisis. My towel is in the downstairs bathroom, the blue one in a red basket.”

“Need me to bring it?” He concludes.

“If you'd be so kind.” She says shyly. 

“Right. I'll be right back.” Stan tells her and, after slowly and carefully closing the bathroom door behind him, rushes downstairs for the towel she asked for. She would be freezing soon. 

“What's the matter, Stanley? Saw something you shouldn't have?” Richie teases and Stan only groans, rolling his eyes at Richie. He makes for the bathroom of the first floor, which is right through the kitchen in the Denbrough's house.

Although Bill ignores Richie's snide question, he is curious why Stan jogged down the stairs without the Monopoly and went into the kitchen. It is his sister, after all. But he also knows Stan. Stan's very polite and reserved.

Stan fetches the towel from the red basket and holds it close to him, folding it over his arm. He goes back up the stairs in the same speed he came down them. He finds Y/N's room and bathroom again and knocks on the door, to warn her it's him.

“Please, open the door in as wide a slit as the towel is thick. Catch my drift?” Y/N's voice comes from inside the room.

“Uh-huh.” Stan confirms. He creaks the door open and squeezes the towel through the slit, her hand taking it once it's through. Stan shuts the door and sighs. He tried to keep his eyes semi-closed while giving her the towel, and it's quite self-explanatory why he did.

He walks back to the door of her room, heading for Bill's bedroom again. But Y/N stops him once again from getting to the Monopoly. “Thanks so much, Stanley.” Her sweet voice thanks him and he can tell that she's come out of the bathroom. 

“You're welcome, Y/N.” He responds with his back still to the bathroom door and her. 

She chuckles. “You can turn around, silly.” She encourages him. Stan gives her a chuckle of nervousness and hesitantly turns around to face her. He doesn't like to admit it, but it's some sort of new teenage experience. His cheeks blush immediately upon looking at her in only her towel and wet hair. “What's wrong? Is something on me, my towel?” She fusses quietly.

“No, no, you're very pretty.” He suddenly blurts out, without thinking. Once he realises what he's said, he wants the ground to swallow him right up. Great going! Why did you have to say that from all things, Stanley? Why?!

Now Y/N blushes. And she smiles. She can tell he's gone full panic mode - his eyes are wide and cheeks redder than before. “You're pretty, too, Stan.” She says after all. 

The boy gets even more flustered. He doesn't know what to say back. One thing only comes to mind. Come on, nothing can be worse than you already said. “Do you want to play Monopoly with us?” Stan asks and looks at her again, regaining his posture and the little amount of confidence he carries in himself.

“I'm not sure that your friends would like that.” Y/N admits. Stanley shakes his head. 

“Screw what they like or not. If you want to, come play with us.” He tells her and she chuckles. “If you don't, that's okay, have a good night—”

“No, no, I'll play.” She convinces him otherwise. “Just let me change first.” Y/N states, smiling wide. 

“We'll be—Well you know where we will be.” Stanley says and Y/N laughs. He even smiles at her, breaking out of his flustered state. He leaves her room and again walks into Bill's bedroom to actually get the board game they so much want to play.

Hope you like this!

Permanent taglist:  @gabiatthedisco @v0idbella @inlovewithmiddleagedcelebs @works-of-fanfiction @destiel-stucky4ever-loki-queen @stfxlou @ur-gunna-h8-ths@empressdreams @betweenloveandfire @but-legendsneverdie@deardeacy@thewinchesterchronicles@mavieesttriste16@mrsmazzello@benhardyseyes @langdonzvoid@intrrverted @the-freak-cassie-131

Stanley Uris tag-list: @nightbu-g

[realityhelixcreates]

Beta, Theta, and Me

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Thor (Movies), Avengers (Movies) Marvel Cinematic Universe Rating: PG Warnings: Swearing, Homelessness, Minor Nudity Relationships: Loki x Reader (But not right now) Characters: Tony Stark, Bruce Banner, Pepper Potts, Thor(Marvel), Loki(Marvel) Additional Tags:  A/B/O, Sorta, More Of An Exploration Of Life And Self Expression Within An A/B/O Framework, Loki Does What He Wants, But Loki Does Not Actually Do What He Wants, This First Chapter Is Mostly Setup, Bear With Me

Summary:  A homeless drifter enters a building, and wanders into a new life.

It was starting to get warm again. The danger of freezing to death on the streets was passing, but that meant a new danger approached: people. More people out and about meant more opportunities for you, but more danger as well.

More people meant more to beg from, but also more people that would be willing to hurt you in some way or another. It also meant more competition from other street people, who you knew from experience, absolutely were willing to hurt you.

You were surprisingly good at surviving out here on the streets. It wasn't ideal, not by a long shot. You suffered, you shivered, you starved, just like everyone else out here. But you didn't get sick as much as the others, you always seemed to know the best places and targets for begging. You were still relatively young, and could feign cuteness.

Most of the people out here were betas. Alphas didn't generally end up homeless, and Omegas were usually snapped up before it could happen to them. Just another example of social inequality.

You were no Omega, but you had the same, strong sense of smell. It helped you avoid danger sometimes, and choose begging targets-mostly Omegas, who were soft. Your dumbass, prepper parents had at least taught you some useful survival skills: climbing, rough shelter, even what weeds could be eaten. Sure, you weren't supposed to eat things that grew close to roads or buildings, but you were also eating literal garbage sometimes, so you were in no position to worry about that.

While the city center wasn't your usual haunt, with its hostile architecture, and its increased police presence, you had accidentally fallen asleep on the subway, and this was where they had kicked you out. It was a long walk back to the suburbs you liked to hide in, and you really had to pee.

The Avenger's Tower Museum was a landmark now, and a tourist trap. It was easy to slip in and find a restroom. With everybody so caught up in learning about famous heroes, no one paid attention to a random patron, even if she was dirtier that the usual visitor.

You knew the Avengers had a separate training compound somewhere out in the countryside, but that they could sometimes also be found here. You knew Tony Stark, in particular, had moved back to the upper reaches of the tower, after his house had been blown up. Perils of being a superhero, you supposed. You hoped they weren't here today. You were going to take advantage, and it felt a bit wrong if the heroes were here.

The bathroom was big, and the stalls were spacious and sparkling clean. You felt like a mud smear on the immaculate walls. Well, that was okay, you were hoping to take care of that problem, at least a little bit.

You hid out in one of the stalls, stripping your shirt off, but leaving your jacket on. You'd done this a few times before, and it was always risky, and took forever, but you had to clean up somehow.

When there was no one in the bathroom with you, you rushed out of the stall, soaked your shirt in the sink, wrung it out slightly, then dashed back into the stall. With the door locked behind you, you stripped off your bra and jacket, then began scrubbing yourself with your wet shirt. Darting back out, you got some soap, and rubbed it all over yourself back in the stall. You cleaned your whole body this way, drying yourself off with your sweatpants.

Now for the hard part.

Partially dressed, you soaked, soaped, and scrubbed each article of clothing in turn, hanging them around the stall to dry. This part took forever, and was extra risky, but it wasn't as if you had anything else to do today, and you didn't get the opportunity to clean your clothes very often.

It proved to be too risky. Someone must have noticed that you were acting suspicious, because the next thing you knew you were being hauled, half dressed, out of the bathroom and across the main floor. They were actually going to toss you out on the street without even all your clothes on!

“Oh hey, what do we have here?” Someone asked. It was a voice that didn't seem used to being ignored.

“Just a drifter, Mr. Stark. We caught her shooting up in the bathroom.” One of the security guards said. You both bristled at the total lie, and sank at the sound of the mans name. You hadn't wanted any of them to see you.

“I was not!” You protested. “I was washing up! There's nothing against the law about getting clean!”

“Is that why she's naked?” Stark asked, a little incredulous over what he was seeing.

“I was drying my clothes, but they pulled me out of the stall before I could get them back on.” You grumbled, not expecting anything to come of it. Maybe he would get you your clothes back before you were tossed out. Otherwise, you would be needing to dig around for a pair of pants.

“Seriously? All those training videos I pay for, and you really think throwing a half-dressed woman out on the street is part of acceptable procedure?” Stark snorted. “No, no, no. You-” He pointed at you with a flourish of his hand. “Come with me. And you two get ready for some sensitivity training sessions.”

He led you away from the security guards and staring tourists, into the back hallways used by staff. It vaguely occurred to you that you ought to be distrustful of being a homeless, half-naked woman practically alone in a hidden hallway with a powerful man, but...well, he was Iron Man. Yes, he had a reputation as a former womanizer, but no one had yet come forward to say that any of it hadn't been consensual.

Besides, if he really was like that, Mrs. Potts probably would have torn his spine out through his ass. As Alphas went, she seemed the very no-nonsense type. Maybe not arrogant, so much as not willing to put up with much in the way of shenanigans. Perhaps she'd chosen the wrong mate. Or perhaps her influence kept him from getting into even more trouble than he already did.  

“Were your clothes dry? Do you want me to send someone to get them?”

“Nah, they were still pretty wet. I was just gonna put them on and leave. I really wasn't doing anything wrong, seriously. I just wanted to wash up and get out. Didn't wanna bother nobody. But they are still hanging in the stall, so someone oughta get them.”

“Okay, can do. Here.” He tapped a code into a pad, and a closet door opened up. Peeking inside, you saw a lot of very organized janitorial equipment, including carts, vacuums, waxing machines, and uniforms. Stark pointed at those. “Get yourself some pants, please. I feel like a sleazebag here.”

You grabbed some pants as he turned his back.

“Get yourself a shirt too. And one of those vests. And a hat.” He said, and you did, putting on the new clothes. “I swear, my whole security team makes me look like some kind of tyrant. They're so severe! I mean, I guess that's what I should have expected, hiring on former S.H.I.E.L.D. agents. But they needed jobs after Nat dropped that truth bomb about HYDRA all over the internet...You knew about that, right?”

“Yeah, I think squids living under a rock at the bottom of the ocean even heard about that.”

“Well, they're good people, mostly, but they're just so serious. They had to be, to do their former jobs, and they just brought it with them into this job. It doesn't occur to them that tossing a naked lady out onto the street makes me look really bad, and isn't very nice to you either. Even if you were getting high in the bathroom, I don't really care. I'm not perfect, I've indulged in the occasional magic brownie. Can't judge. Grab that cart will you? Wall chart says it's about time for that bathroom to get cleaned.”

The man was an absolute chatterbox, and you had your hands on the cart before it registered that he had even said it. Was that how he always got his way? You were no Omega, and he was no Alpha, but he was powerful nonetheless, and he overwhelmed you with words. You just found yourself doing whatever it was he said.

You followed him out to the bathroom, fully dressed, and dragging the cart behind you, expecting to collect your wet clothes and leave.

“Now, don't forget to put on your gloves, and one of these masks here, so you don't breathe in the cleaners. You know,” He said at your bewildered glance. “Since you like cleaning things so much.”

“U-um...”

“Code's twenty-four thirty, check the wall chart for what's next. You can read and write?”

“Yes...?”

“Great! I'll get an application sent to you at the end of the shift. Have fun!”

He strode off into the crowd without a second glance back, and disappeared into the crowd, leaving you deeply confused, hopeful, and just a little repulsed.

You had a job now, it seemed. All of a sudden, you were gainfully employed. He had the power to completely reorder your life on a whim. That was terrifying, but also an opportunity you didn't want to let slip. If he was feeling generous, you would take advantage of it.

You put on a pair of gloves, and slipped a paper mask over your face. It was time to go to work.

                                                                                                                                                  *****

This was a little harder than you had thought it would be. Since you hadn't done this before, or gotten any training at all, you were mostly just guessing what cleaners to use, and what proper toilet cleaning procedure might be. You weren't sure how to open the automatic paper towel dispensers in order to put in new rolls, or where to put the wet floor sign when you mopped. Also, people kept coming in and ruining your work, though you supposed that was part of the point.

It took about an hour for you to get the whole place scrubbed, restocked, and shining. You had cleaned every speck of dust or dirt, and paid close attention to every tiny detail. That ought to be satisfactory.

You wheeled the cart back into the Employee's Only halls, only to be stopped by a tall, frowning woman.

“Who are you?” She demanded. “Who told you you could take this cart?”

“New hire.” You said, hoping she would see that you were busy and let you go on your way. You didn't like the look of her.

“I wasn't informed of any new hire!”

“Very new. Just came on this morning.”

She grasped the cart, stopping you in place.

“I run the janitorial department. I wasn't informed of any new hire. I'm notifying security.”

“Mr. Stark brought me on himself!” You protested. “Just this morning! It was real sudden, but that's what happened.”

“Bullshit. I'll just ask him directly, shall I?” She whipped out a very smart looking phone, and pressed a single digit on its nearly flat face.

A minute passed. Dragged. Stretched. The woman's' frown grew deeper, and you struggled to refrain from sarcastic comments about her perceived self-importance.

Finally, the phone picked up.

“Yo.” Came Stark's bored voice.

“I've caught a vagrant in the D-3 hallway. She's either trying to steal or to spy. She says you personally hired her this morning.”

“Huh? Who?”

Your heart sank. Seemed like the game was over.

“Oh yeah! She's our newest janitor. Real passion for cleaning.”

“Wh-really? But sir!”

“Don't worry. Florence. Didn't you just send me an email suggesting you were short-handed since Anne got married? Well, there you go! Problem solved, and almost immediately. Get along now. Bye!”

“But-” The phone went dark again. You were honestly surprised he had answered in the first place. The man was a billionaire, on top of the world, a hero and one of the most famous figures mankind had ever known. Smash together King Tut, Einstein, and Elvis, and the resulting super-person would still have nothing on the fame of Anthony Stark. And 'Florence' here was a grump who seemed to think a bit too much of her own importance.

She glared at you. You shrugged.

“Fine. Show me what you did.”

You took her to the bathroom, proudly showing off your sparkling work.

“So you took this cart at nine fourty-six, and have only gotten back now...it took you an hour to do this?”

You weren't completely in love with her tone.

“Where did you get your training?”

“Uh...”

“Thought so. He just grabbed you and tossed you into this didn't he? Look, taking a whole hour to clean one bathroom is not going to cut it. This building is ninety-three floors, and each one has several bathrooms which, incidentally, will not be the only things you will be expected to clean. You will have to speed up.”

She glanced around. “I see what you've done here. You've scrubbed literally everything. Behind the toilets. The underside of the sinks. The trash cans. You can't do this every time. It'll just take too long. You need to learn the basics before you start doing all the extra stuff.”

Well that was new. Getting reprimanded for doing your job too well.

“Come along. We'll do another bathroom. I'll show you the basics.”

You followed her out of the bathroom and into the hidden halls.

“We don't go wheeling the bathroom carts out among the museum tours.” She lectured. “Even though we are cleaners, anything associated with toilets becomes associated with filth, in the laymans eyes. There are maps here and there, but if you think you're going to work here, you'll get the layout memorized quickly.”

You spent another hour and a half learning basic bathroom cleaning techniques. This was apparently what you would be spending most of your time on. Every bathroom on the ten museum floors was scheduled to be cleaned once per two hours, and every bathroom on the dozens of office and lab floors at least three times per day. You would not be alone in doing this task, but since, as had been pointed out, the janitorial team was shorthanded, you would have to do many of them, and you would have to learn to do it fast. Florence didn't seem terribly convinced that you would be able to.

She sure had a lot to say about you; carefully cloaked jabs at your appearance, hygiene, and intelligence. She even seemed to insinuate that you smelled bad, on the elevator up to the highest level of labs that you would be given access to. You felt that was rather unfair; you had technically just washed, and you were even wearing fresh clothes!

Upon disembarking the elevator, Florence led you to each of the bathrooms on the floor, and you glanced into the labs. Away from the museum, you didn't have to sneak through hidden halls to avoid being spotted by the general public, and could see what was going on around you.

There was a lot of...very sciency stuff going on in those labs, and you didn't understand a lick of it. But it might be nice to learn sometime.

A loud, but faraway sound penetrated the lab, like a roaring wind. You'd have guessed that it really was nothing but the wind, rushing around the building, dozens of floors higher into the air than you'd ever been, except...

Except that everyone, Florence included, paused in what they were doing, and looked toward the ceiling. As if they'd heard it before, and knew it heralded something. One man, far down the hall, left his lab and booked it to another elevator.

“What was that?” You asked, mildly nervous.

“Nothing we need to concern ourselves with.” She answered. “We should go back downstairs. Khalil should be getting in soon; I'll have him show you how the floor waxers work, and where the box and trash compactors are, while I scrape you up an application, and get you entered into the system.”

As she led you away, a column of prismatic, screaming light faded from a special platform, far, far above you, and two people stepped onto the very top floor of the tower.

[ijustreallylovezebras]

Courtney’s Crisis Writing Challenge

So yeah as I’m sure all of you are aware of by now I’m having a crisis

and I figured what better way to deal with an emotional crisis than to do a writing challenge and read all the wonderful thing’s y’all can write to distract myself from my ever-growing list of responsibilities

maybe i should change it to Courtney’s Procrastination and Existential Worry Writing Challenge instead

ANYWAY

This is a whole-ass mega writing challenge, going across ALL the people I’ve ever written for and all the people I lowkey want to write for/kinda have a current obsession/love for atm

I’ll give a full comprehensive list below the rules 

But yeah this is going to have an English Literature theme bc I’m a nerd like that and have been reading too many books lately, again, to distract myself

So the prompts are split into three categories - “The Heartbreakingly Beautiful”, “The Hilariously Relateable” and “Fuck I’m Drowning In Fluff”

yeah the categories are just what went through my mind when I read the things these authors wrote

The Rules

1) You don’t have to be following me but it would be nice because I’m lonely and want friends plz

2) If your piece of writing is over 500 words, please use the ‘read more’ feature

3) Reblog this post to get the word out (and tag anyone who may be interested!)

4) It’s going to be one person per prompt but if needed I can add more prompts

5) Smut is fine but please leave warnings as appropriate (THOUGH NO UNDERAGE CHARACTER SMUT THANKS)

6) On the back of that one, no inappropriate pairings pleaseeeeee

7) Also please make sure you leave appropriate warnings at the beginnings of fics if any sensitive subjects are brought up (e.g. mental health etc)

8) Ships and OC’s are welcome

9) Tag me in your writing! - on any of my blogs or all three if you’re keen whoooo

10) Use the hashtag #CourtsCrisisWC

11) If you want to enter send me an ask with the prompt you want and the pairing you’ll be writing it with - again the ask can be sent to either of my writing blogs

12) The deadline for this is 15th December (this can be extended if y’all need it)

Characters/People/Pairings

Okay so imma split this section into parts real quick

Main Blog

1) Pretty much anyone from the MCU is welcome - with the exception of Tony Stark and Clint Barton

2) Tom Holland & Harrison Osterfield and HOCO cast and the Holland boys (NOT PADDY) 

3) Any of Les Amis

4) The characters from Peaky Blinders as well

5) Poly ships (e.g. Steve x Reader x Bucky or Tom x Reader x Harrison)

Side Blog

1) Ben Hardy (+ Warren Worthington)

2) Joe Mazzello (+ Eugene Sledge, Gardner Langway, Pat Murray, Dr Tim Murphy)

3) Gwilym Lee (+ Charlie Nelson)

4) (BoRhap!)Queen members (Freddie only platonically)

5) Roger x Reader x Ben

6) Joe x Reader x Ben

7) The Hargreeves Children (older!Five only)

8) Richard Madden (+ David Budd, Robb Stark, Prince Kit)

9) Taron Egerton (+ Eggsy)

10) Rocketman!Bernie Taupin and Ray Williams

11) Smosh Members

12) Jake Gyllenhaal (+ all his various characters)

13) Chris Evans (+ Ari Levinson, Frank Adler)

Just For Funsies (i.e. current obsessions I don’t officially write for but lowkey want to)

1) Ashton Irwin

2) Calum Hood

3) Sebastian Stan (+ Chris Beck)

tbh y’all can just send me a person and I’ll let you know if I’m cool with you writing for them but judging by this list I think you can rest fairly assured that I’m going to be okay with whoever you want to write for

Prompts

The Heartbreakingly Beautiful

“I have measured out my life in coffee spoons” - The Lovesong of J. Alfred Prufrock by T.S Eliot // the most beautiful and wonderful poem ever written don’t fight me on this // ( @writingsoftheloser w/ BLANK)

“I am so busy keeping my head above water that I scarcely know who I am, much less who anyone else is” - The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath

“Don’t ever tell anybody anything. If you do you start missing everybody” - The Catcher In The Rye by J.D Salinger ( @takenbyheartstrings w/ Peter Parker)

“I should have made it as hard for you to leave me as it is now for me to leave you” - Jane Eyre by Charlotte Brontë ( @bensakindofmagic w/ Ben Hardy)

"The universe is bigger than anything that can fit into your mind." - Love Letters To The Dead by Ava Dellaira ( @petersfreckles w/ Peter Parker)

“You never forget the face of the person that is your last hope” - The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins ( @tom-holland-stuff w/ BLANK)

“Hope may be the thing that pulls you forward (may be the thing that keeps you going) but that it’s painful and dangerous and risky it’s making a dare to the world and when has the world ever let us win a dare?” - The Knife of Never Letting Go by Patrick Ness

“We can't fight another person's battle, no matter how much we want to.” - Holding Up The Universe by Jenifer Niven

“I'm sure I never used to be so sensitive. I think it is due to this nervous condition.” - The Yellow Wallpaper by Charlotte Perkins Gilman

“Sometimes, I feel the past and the future pressing so hard on either side that there's no room for the present at all.” - Brideshead Revisited by Evelyn Waugh

The Hilariously and Painfully Relatable

“As far as I'm concerned, I came out of the womb spouting cynicism and wishing for rain.” - Solitaire by Alice Oseman

“Real courage is when you know you’re licked before you begin, but you begin anyway and see it through no matter what.” - To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee

"And now that you don't have to be perfect, you can be good." - East of Eden by John Steinbeck ( @queen-paladin w/ Joe/Eugene/Charlie/Les Amis boy)

"We cross our bridges as we come to them and burn them behind us, with nothing to show for our progress except a memory of the smell of smoke, and the presumption that once our eyes watered." - Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead by Tom Stoppard ( @lilulo-12 w/ Bucky)

"It's just that…I just think that some things are meant to be broken. Imperfect. Chaotic. It's the universe's way of providing contrast, you know? There have to be a few holes in the road. It's how life is." - The Truth About Forever by Sarah Dessen ( @sataninsatin w/ Detective Loki)

“It was books that made me feel that I was not completely alone” - The Night Circus by Erin Mogenstern

“Was there some kind of rule against drop kicking arseholes in the face? Probably. They always had rules against things that needed to be done” - Made You Up by Francesca Zappia

“I would challenge you to a battle of wits but I see you are unarmed” - Much Ado About Nothing by William Shakespeare ( @icantspellanything w/ Poe Dameron)

“Some people are born with an ear for music, some people are born with a talent for drawing, some people...have a built-in radar that tells them where a comma needs to go in a sentence.” - Our Chemical Hearts by Krystal Sutherland

“Sometimes people are beautiful. Not in looks. Not in what they say. Just in what they are.” I Am The Messenger by Marcus Zusak

Fuck I’m Drowning In Fluff 

“You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you” - Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austin ( @mavalenovaninagavi w/ Andrew Garfield!Peter Parker)

“I love her, and that’s the beginning and end of everything” - The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Flitzgerald ( @angiefangirlworld-2 w/ Ben Hardy)

“Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.” - Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë ( @fichoe21 w/ Bucky)

"The curves of your lips rewrite history." - Picture Of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde ( @sarahp879 w/ Bucky)

"[BLANK] was right. [They] never looked nice. [They] looked like art, and art wasn't supposed to look nice; it was supposed to make you feel something." - Eleanor and Park by Rainbow Rowell ( @writing-of-a-british-bitch w/ Eggsy/Warren)

“Here’s my secret. It’s quite simple: One sees clearly only with the heart. Anything essential is invisible to the eye.” - The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupery

“Love is worth everything. Everything.” - Everything Everything by Nicola Yoon

“I loved her against reason, against promise, against peace,  against hope, against happiness, against all discouragement that could be.” - Great Expectations by Charles Dickens ( @natdoesthings w/ Jake Gyllenhaal)

“I just want you to know that you’re very special and the only reason I’m telling you is that I don’t know if anyone else ever has” - The Perks of Being a Wallflower by Stephen Chebowsky ( @d-is-for-delightfull w/ Enjolras)

“Don’t you understand? You mean more to me than anything in this whole world!” - Peter Pan by J.M Barrie

[faresramettas]

Rating: Mature Relationships: Niccolò Fares/Martino Rametta Additional Tags: Canon Compliant, Slice of Life, Conversations, Fluff, Making Out Summary:

"I think this summer is going to be good."

Snippets of Marti and Nico's life over three days.

read on ao3 or below

Day one

“You look so good,” Nico says, words mumbled against the warm skin of Marti’s neck.

They’re in the Villa Ada park and it’s late, later than they were supposed to leave, but good music and cheap drinks make time fly.

Marti is being kissed drunk and senseless against a tree and he supposes that makes time fly too.

They came for a DJ set at the summer festival being held at the park, a free-entry electronic music night by the lake. The place was nice. Marti had come to the lake in Villa Ada before, but never for this festival.

He liked the atmosphere, noticed how the tall trees were washed white by the flashing lights of the main stage, while the fairy lights wrapped around the fence on the edge of the lake reflected little yellow dots on the surface of the water.

The quiet of the park was broken by the volume of the music, the deep bass vibrating underneath his feet and inside his ribcage. His skin was sticky with sweat and humidity, but a miraculous light breeze made the high temperature bearable. Marti especially appreciated how there was plenty of space to dance without being squished between a dozen other sweaty bodies, and deckchairs strategically placed to sit and chill under the stars.

He liked being offered a choice about the kind of night he wanted to spend, and he and Nico chose to spend it dancing and drinking for hours.

Now, Marti can hardly call stepping in a semicircle and bobbing his head and shoulders to the beat “dancing”. But he has learned not to care. Nico has taught him not to care, with his contagious energy and silly dance moves that Marti is embarrassingly fond of.

Beer makes people bold, but maybe summer does too, and they dared dancing closer than they usually allow themselves to, judging the environment and crowd to be safe.

Stealing touches becomes an addictive game once you start playing it. A lingering hand on the hip, fingers brushing necks, a firm palm on the lower back to steer the other through the crowd. Marti briefly linked their fingers in the queue for the bar, and every time Nico cupped a hand against his pierced ear to talk, he pressed his lips to it, hot and soft.

Well past three in the morning, Nico grinned at him with the tip of his tongue poking between his teeth and asked him if he wanted to leave. Marti nodded and smiled back, dopey and tipsy, letting Nico grab his wrist and guide him towards the exit.

Once outside the festival area, the park was dark and completely empty, illuminated only by moonlight and the glow of the party behind them. They walked towards the exit, the lake on their left, grass and trees stretching for kilometers on their right to the other edge of the park.

Nico took his hand and dragged him in that direction. Marti drunkenly stumbled a little to catch up with Nico's strides, his hisses of Ni, wait met with chuckles and a squeeze of his hand.

“You don't trust me?” Nico teased, turning his head with a smug smile.

He didn't have time to ask where they were going before he was being pressed against a tree and kissed.

And that, that was risky, Marti knew it. But it was thrilling, too, a sense of met anticipation unfurling in his lungs and stomach.

He had wanted to kiss Nico the whole time they were dancing. Almost had. So Marti sighed and kissed Nico back, hummed happily in the back of his throat.

And this is where they are now. Nico kisses him and he tastes bittersweet, like beer and mixed drinks. He barely gives Marti time to breathe, one hand grabbing his waist and the other on his jaw and neck, pulling him closer, Marti’s own hands holding Nico’s face, fingertips sinking in his curls.

Marti can hear his own heartbeat, feel it pulsing in his temples. He tries to keep up with the intensity of it, how Nico sucks on his upper lip and licks inside his mouth, but he breaks the kiss on a drunk giggle he can’t hold back.

He likes kissing Nico so much.

"What if someone sees us?" he asks. Not because he's really worried about it, he just wants to exasperate Nico a bit.

“There's no one here, Marti", Nico groans, rolling his eyes.

Marti ruffles Nico's hair and it's so sweaty it sticks up like a wild mane. It makes him snicker like an idiot, and Nico presses his lips to his amused smile for another long kiss.

Nico nudges Marti's lips open with his tongue and nudges his knee with his own at the same time. Marti slides a bit down and widens his legs so Nico can stand snug between them.

He mumbles something about how good Marti looks in his white shorts. Something about the way they made his thighs look. It makes Marti flush and hide his face in Nico’s neck, mouth at the side of it until Nico tips his chin up to chase his lips again.

Nico's hands are on his face and he uses them to tilt his head back to deepen the kiss, fingertips buried in the curls matted to the sides of his face, thumbs pressing his jaw slack. Marti exhales harshly from his nose and angles his head according to Nico's movements, the pressure of his hands. Nico curls his tongue around his, sucks on it, kisses him so thoroughly Marti can't keep up.

Nico doesn't often kiss him like this, hungry, sloppy. There is always a perfect balance of give and take in their kisses, a familiar meeting each other halfway that's become muscle memory to Marti, a carefulness in the way Nico holds him, like he is something precious.

So when Nico kisses him like this, Marti doesn't know how to catch up, overwhelmed and so responsive to this kind of physical attention that his brain switches off, reacting in slow motion. He feels himself melt into Nico's touch and back into the tree, thankful that he's propped up against it because he doesn't think he could stand on his own right now, legs too shaky to hold himself up, hands hanging uselessly around Nico's neck as he exhales through his nose and moans softly into Nico's mouth.

He lets himself be kissed hard and breathless and lets Nico take, lets that balance of give and take tilt and doesn't mind a single bit.

Nico presses his full weight into him, slotted between Marti's legs. The music from the DJ set is still playing in the distance, and Nico moves his hips to the thump of the bass.

He's half hard, Marti can feel him against his stomach, and it makes his breath catch, makes him squeeze his eyes shut to focus because he's getting hard himself.

It's not easy to stay grounded when Nico pants drunk sweet nothings between kisses, that Marti can only respond to by clutching him closer and whining into his mouth.

Nico latches his lips to his jaw, kisses him wet and messy down the column of his neck, bends down to smooth his left hand over Marti's thigh and hitch his leg up, almost hook it around his hip. He caresses his kneecap with his thumb and his lips never leave Marti's.

Marti is tipsy and being kissed so dumb he can't move, but he holds onto the last thread of sanity left in his brain and plants his shaky hands on Nico's chest to reluctantly push him back, blinking at him with heavy eyelids.

"Can we go home?"

"Can I suck you off?" Nico replies, hands slipping under Marti's shirt.

Marti snorts, tapping his useless fingers on Nico's cheek.

"I'm not getting my dick out in a park," he hisses.

It makes both of them laugh, their drunk silliness breaking the thick cloud of lust hovering over them in that moment.

Nico rests his forehead against his to catch his breath, chest heaving. Marti starts feeling his hands and toes again, tingly from the blood rush, brain still processing in slow motion, heart pounding. He's sure if he closed his eyes and listened, he could hear Nico's too.

When he suggests they get a cab home, Nico snags Marti's phone from his back pocket with the hand not currently on the side of Marti's face and dials the number to a taxi company. He fumbles over directions, not knowing the precise address to the entrance on the lake side of the park.

It makes Marti burst into giggles, to the point where Nico covers his mouth with his palm, that Marti licks without hesitation, earning a wide-eyed scandalized reaction from Nico.

"You know there's an app for that," he can't help teasing when Nico hangs up.

"Shut up," Nico whines, leaning his head on Marti's shoulder. "I'm drunk."

Marti laughs and strokes the back of his head, looking down at him with a fond smile.

They take a few minutes to adjust their hair and clothes. Marti shakily pushes himself up and off the tree and dusts off the back of his shorts, but the dirt won't come off.

"They're ruined," he frowns.

"I'm so sorry," Nico says, saccharine and mocking. He doesn't mean it all. From the look on his face, Marti may even think he's proud of it, for whatever reason.

Marti acts offended and pushes him lightly, but Nico pulls him back in with both hands around Marti's wrists and kisses him again, slow and gentle. It’s a whole different kiss and Marti has to break it to preserve his brain from turning into mush again.

"You ruined my shorts. You have to make it up to me."

"Oh," Nico says, raising a brow. "And how?"

Marti hums and pretends to think seriously about it. He rubs Nico's lower lip with his thumb, dragging it down a bit.

"I have a few ideas."

-

Day two

It’s hot. It’s too hot.

They were supposed to go to the beach with the boys today, but after going to sleep sometime around five in the morning, they woke up past noon with the dull headache and dry mouth of a hangover, considered taking the train to Ostia in thirty-four-degree weather for a minute and decided to camp out in Nico’s living room instead, lying on the couch with the bliss of air conditioning on.

Nico's parents weren't home, anyway, wouldn't be for another couple of days.

Marti is sitting between Nico's legs with his back to Nico's chest, both of them in their boxers. He's comfortable. Warm but not sticky, not sweating. Nico is brushing the top of his shoulders with his thumbs in a lazy back and forth that Marti is mirroring with the hand smoothing over Nico’s thigh.

Air conditioning is the only thing that makes touching possible in this heat. That makes sleeping in the same bed possible. Nico has it in his bedroom, too, something Marti is very thankful for and takes advantage of as much as he can, having spent every summer of his life without it, often sleeping upside down in hope to catch a breath of wind from the open window in his room.

So they could have stayed in Nico's bed, but the living room is closer to the kitchen, and moving from the bed to the couch would give them the illusion of actually doing something, Nico said.

Or something like that. He didn't have time to argue the flaws in Nico’s logic before Nico was taking his hands and helping him up off the bed.

At least they're not hungover anymore. So that's a good thing.

"Who invented air conditioning?"

It's a rhetorical question, and he'd be surprised if Nico had the answer to it. Or maybe not so much. Nico is a well of curious facts.

"Someone who needs to be made a saint."

Marti hums in agreement. "Too bad not all of us can afford this bourgeois luxury," he teases, craning his neck up.

"Then aren't you lucky that your amazing boyfriend has granted you access to this comfort?" Nico says, pinching the back of Marti's neck.

Marti chuckles softly at his funny eyebrows.

"I am very lucky."

He's not talking about the air conditioning.

Marti settles back against his chest and caresses Nico's knee. He glances up at the big white windows with the blinders half drawn. At the puppets hanging by their threads. At the painting on the wall. At the stacks and stacks of books, vinyl records, DVD cases.

Everything here is so familiar it feels more like his home than his own does, and yet he could discover something new on those shelves every day.

He looks down. They're almost lying down, but their feet don't even reach the other end of the big leather couch.

Marti is very fond of this couch. Of the memories it holds.

He snuggles up to Nico and leans his head back on his shoulder. Nico rests his chin on top of it. He starts absentmindedly playing with Marti's right hand. He lifts it up and turns it around like he's examining it, laces and unlaces their fingers. He lays it back on top of his own leg palm up and traces it with his index finger. Marti follows the movements with his eyes, lips curling up in a smile.

"I think this summer is going to be good," he says.

"Because of the air con?"

"No," Marti scoffs, elbowing Nico lightly. Nico chuckles and kisses the top of his head.

He caresses Nico's thigh, trying to put his thoughts into words.

"Last summer was... really bad. For me."

It's a bit sudden, this change of mood. Nico senses it, maybe, and flattens his hand on top of Marti's to hold it. He doesn't know what Marti's about to unpack on him but he’s already comforting him.

"Because of your parents?" Nico asks.

Marti nods. "Yeah. But something else, too."

He's never talked about this before, not even with Nico. There's still something too shameful about admitting it.

He swallows, focusing on their intertwined hands as he gathers the words.

"I had feelings for someone. Long before that summer. It was the first time I liked a boy, and it made me do some shitty things to people I care about.”

He frowns, worrying the brown leather of the couch between his fingers. An unconscious, nervous gesture.

“He and his girlfriend broke up before school ended, and in part, it was my fault. I felt so guilty, all the time."

Marti feels, in a way, like he's reliving another moment of revelation, on a different couch. Only the subjects are reversed, and this is not nearly as scary. But he doesn't know how Nico will react, and the words feel like lead at the bottom of his throat.

A pause.

"It was Gio."

His heart beats loudly in his chest. Waiting for Nico to say something is nerve-wracking, and he doesn't dare look at him.

"I get it. You have good taste in men."

Marti scoffs, incredulous, and turns to slap Nico's chest.

"You're so stupid."

"What, am I wrong?" Nico says, smiling at him.

Marti shakes his head, chuckling despite himself. Here is he, pouring his darkest secret out, and Nico still manages to be the surprising one.

Nico clears his throat, then. "Seriously, though. I get it. He's your best friend. He's safe. He's wonderful. It makes a lot more sense than you may think."

He sounds honest, and kind. Marti sighs.

"I guess." He looks down, spreads his fingers out on Nico's thigh. "I don't feel guilty about that. Not anymore. But I meddled with his and Eva's relationship. I can't live that down. Eva and I are okay now but..."

"Does he know?"

"No. I can't tell him. Someday, maybe. When we're old and wrinkly."

Nico hums and squeezes his hand. "It's Gio. You know he'd understand. He'd forgive you."

Marti shrugs. "I don't know."

He can't tell Gio what he did to him and Eva, because he can't tell Gio the reason he did it. He can't put their friendship at risk. Not now.

Nico brushes away the hair at the back of his neck and presses a kiss to it. “Can I ask how you got over him?", he mumbles, cheeky.

Marti grins and tilts his head back, booping Nico’s nose.

"A weirdo followed me into the radio booth."

Nico laughs and brings his face up for a kiss. He moves to lie down and drag Marti half on top of him.

"Thank you for telling me, Marti."

Marti smiles and kisses Nico again, long and gentle. He already feels so much lighter with a portion of this weight off his chest.

"It’s going to be a good summer," Marti says, "because I’m with you. If the me from last summer could see me now, he wouldn't believe it."

Nico smiles so softly, it melts Marti’s heart like the July sun.

"I can say the same."

-

Day three

Being with Nico is like constantly being distracted. One moment, you’re walking into the kitchen to get a late-night snack, the next, you’re kissing him against the counter.

Marti likes Nico’s kitchen for many reasons, one of them being its wide counters. Perfect to sit Nico up on them. He bends down, grabs the back of Nico’s thighs and lifts him up. Nico gasps, his o-shaped mouth turning into a grin as Marti steps between his legs and wraps Nico’s legs around his waist.

Nico is taller than him now, and Marti has to lean up to kiss him. He unhurriedly parts his lips, rolls his tongue, one hand coming up to stroke Nico's neck.

He bends his head and presses kisses down the side of his neck, rubs the tip of his nose on the column of his throat. So much bare skin in front of him, he wants to pay attention to all of it.

Nico’s chuckle snaps him out of it.

“Do you want some fruit?” Nico asks, twirling a red curl with his finger. “Marisol bought it at the market.”

“Sure,” Marti smiles up at him. “In the fridge?”

Nico nods, pouts when Marti uncrosses his legs to move. Marti opens the fridge and grabs the bowl of fruit with peaches and cherries from the bottom shelf, then searches for a knife in the drawer while Nico makes grabby hands at him.

He stands back between Nico’s legs and places the bowl down by Nico’s hip. He looks up and Nico looks like a happy cat, with the way his lips are curled up at the corners. He bends down and kisses the corner of Marti’s lips, squeezing his waist with his thighs.

Marti peels the peach, cuts it in half and offers it to Nico, who takes a bite straight from his hand. The peach is ripe, and its juice runs down Nico’s lips and Marti’s hand. Nico takes Marti’s wrist and kisses the side of his hand, sucking the juice from it.

Marti mirrors him, leaning up to kiss Nico’s sticky chin. It’s sweet.

“What are we doing?” he chuckles, scrunching his nose.

Nico laughs too. They finish the peach with Marti standing comfortably between Nico’s legs. It’s messy, and Nico nips on his fingers when Marti feeds him, makes a whole show of sucking on them to rile Marti up.

Marti squeezes Nico’s thigh as a warning and shakes his head at him.

He doesn’t need to get ideas. They spent the best part of the last three days naked. He can still picture Nico after Villa Ada, pushing him against the wall by the front door as soon as they stepped inside and going to his knees, his pretty lips wrapped around him and getting him off hard and fast, Marti’s dirty white shorts on the floor. All the showers they took together, lips sliding across wet skin, Marti hugging Nico from behind and reaching around to stroke him.

Marti cranes his neck up and kisses Nico deep and slow, fingers sinking in the hair at his nape, until Nico is moaning into it and pulling back.

Marti gloats, satisfied.

He takes a cherry and puts it between his teeth, and Nico leans in and bites the other half. He plucks the pit from his lips and looks like he doesn’t know where to put it. Marti offers a hand for him to throw it. Nico blinks at him, looks surprised.

“Really?” Like that’s supposed to gross Marti out.

Marti shrugs. “Of course.”

Nico smiles softly and puts the pit in his palm.

They eat all the cherries. Not all of them come with kisses, but almost. Marti eventually throws all the pits back in the bowl, not wanting to leave his precious spot between Nico’s legs to reach the trash bin.

The window behind Nico’s back is open and the cool night breeze feels wonderful on his skin. A soft tune plays from the stereo in the living room, and they sway a bit, Nico’s arms around Marti’s neck and Marti’s around his waist.

It’s one of those moments that are so perfect, you want to freeze time and keep reliving them forever.

Nico yawns and rests his forehead against Marti’s.

“Wanna go to bed?” Marti whispers, and Nico nods.

“Okay,” he says. “Hold on.”

He moves his hands under Nico’s thighs and Nico crosses his legs around his waist, holding onto his shoulders as Marti lifts him up again.

Nico is heavy, but he can carry him to bed. He even makes a detour to turn off the music.

“I wouldn’t mind being carried like this the whole time,” Nico says, leaning in for a quick peck.

Marti huffs, crossing the threshold to Nico's room. “You overestimate me."

“Next summer, then. You’ll get buff. Lift me like a feather.”

Marti smiles.

“Next summer.”

[worryinglyinnocent]

Fic: Everything Money Can Buy (9/12)

Summary: The Greatest Store in the World AU. When misfortune strikes and leaves Emma Swan and her son homeless just before Christmas, the ever-resourceful Emma has a ready solution. They’ll move into Mills Department Store, a place they can only dream of affording to buy from. It’s not easy, having to deal with a perpetually grumpy doorman, a nasty assistant manager, and an extremely suspect Santa, but Emma and Henry soon learn that the kindness of strangers is something money can’t buy.

Swan Believer centric, with eventual Swan Queen and background Rumbelle and Dwarf Star.

Rated: G

=====

[One] [Two] [Three] [Four] [Five] [Six] [Seven] [Eight] [AO3]

=====

Nine

Emma was beginning to think that staying in the store over Christmas was actually the worst idea that she'd ever had. It would have been all right if it had not been for the staff party going on and taking over what sounded like the entire store.

She and Henry were once again secreted away in the cleaning cupboard where they had spent all their closing times before, and they had been quite happily listening to the sounds of customers leaving the store and departments shutting down, until they had come to the gradual and horrifying realisation that the staff were definitely not going home and the Christmas music volume was being turned up along with the level of chatter.

Under the cover of the loud music and talking, Emma had rested her forehead against the inside of the cleaning cupboard door, let out a stream of profanity that Henry had obediently covered his ears for, and wondered what to do next.

Henry, sensible soul that he was, upturned two empty buckets to use as seats in the cramped space and settled in for the long haul, opening the candied nuts from the goody bag that Astrid had given them and offering them to Emma. She took a handful, sitting down heavily on her bucket.

"Hey, at least we're inside," Henry said. "I wouldn't want to have to try and sneak in past all this."

"Yeah. I mean, they've all got to go home at some point." Emma paused. "I hope no one's sick and they need to get into this cupboard for cleaning materials."

"There are plenty of other cupboards, Mum, there's one on every floor."

"Yeah, but you know our luck. They’ll want this one." She sighed. "Although, that said, they'll probably be so drunk that they won't even notice us."

Henry gave a snort of laughter and they continued to munch nuts in peace for a while, listening to the festivities going on outside. Emma wondered what their friends were doing. 

Finally, she jumped up, almost hitting her head on the shelf above her, and Henry raised an eyebrow.

“Come on, we can’t stay in here all night,” she said. “There’s not going to be anyone in the basement. If we can get down there without anyone noticing us, then I reckon we can get back to the tent and hole up in there nice and snugly.”

Henry did not look at all convinced by Emma’s confidence in this plan, and she couldn’t really say that she blamed him. It was not one of her better ones, but she was getting claustrophobic sitting inside this cupboard, and she was working on her previous principle of everyone being too drunk to notice anything funny going on.

She bent down and peered through the keyhole. The cleaning cupboard being tucked away as it was, there was no one in her immediate sight line, even though she could definitely hear people close by. It was risky, but she thought that it was worth trying to make a break for it.

Carefully, she inched open the cupboard door and peeped through the crack. No one around, although she could see people talking together in the department beyond. Hopefully none of them would look in this direction.

“Come on, we’re clear. Let’s move out.”

Emma opened the door fully and Henry sped out behind her, making for the switched off escalator and then immediately hanging a swift left and jumping behind a plant pot as someone started coming up the escalator. It was Zelena, and the expression on her face was that of a woman on a mission. For a moment, Emma was worried that she’d seen them, and that this determination was to get them out of the store, but she marched straight past their terrible hiding place without giving them a second glance.

Henry looked at her, and it was clear from his face that he didn’t think much of her plan to get back down to the basement with no one noticing.

“Ok, so we’re not off to a great start,” Emma hissed. “Still, we’re out now and there’s not a lot of point in turning back.”

The escalator was clear by this point, and they hurried down it, not worrying about the amount of noise that they were making – the staff were making more than enough to drown them out.

Once they were down on the next level, it became clear that the majority of the staff were gathered in the Christmas decorations area, which they were going to have to make their way through in order to reach the next set of escalators. On the one hand, more people meant that they could hopefully blend in with the crowd better, but on the other hand, there were far more opportunities for someone to see them and realise that they really weren’t supposed to be there.

Emma dropped into a low crouch as they entered the fray, and Henry followed suit, the two of them peering out from behind a tinsel Christmas tree. They could see their goal beyond the racks of baubles and wreaths, and Emma tried to work out what the best way of getting there would be. The middle of the decorations area had been cleared into an impromptu dancefloor, and several staff were jiving about to a version of Underneath the Tree that sounded like it was being played underwater. Emma thought that a shop like Mills really ought to have a better sound system, before she realised that it wasn’t the sound system and was in fact a karaoke machine, with one of the waitresses from the tearoom doing the honours. Thankfully, it wasn’t Astrid. Emma didn’t think that she would be able to look their benefactor in their eye after such a performance.

“We could do a Macbeth,” Henry suggested. Emma just stared at him. “What? I’ve been reading Tales from Shakespeare in the books section. It was the kids’ version!”

“I didn’t even realise that there was a kids’ version of Macbeth,” Emma said. “Did they edit out all the cold-blooded murder or what?”

“Nah, they just kind of skimmed over it quickly. Anyway, we can do the whole Birnam Wood coming to Dunsinane thing.”

“Henry, you are making no sense and I don’t think that assassinating a king is going to help us here. I don’t think assassinating Regina Mills would help us either, especially as I don’t know which one of these many drunkards she is.”

Henry sighed and picked up the gold tinsel tree he was hiding behind, creeping along with it for a couple of feet and then putting it down again.

“Right, ok. I get it now.” Emma picked up her own tree and they made their way slowly around the edge of the dancefloor, stopping every time someone looked in their direction, until they made it to the safety of a rack of baubles, just as Zelena came back down the other escalator that she’d gone up. Whatever she’d been looking for up there, she evidently hadn’t found it, as she was just as determinedly walking towards Emma and Henry’s own goal. Emma rolled her eyes.

“What is it with that woman and being where we want to be?” she asked. “She’s at her work Christmas party for crying out loud, you’d think that she would be in here getting sloshed like the rest of them.”

They waited in the bauble aisle for a little while longer, listening to the increasingly dreadful karaoke, but Zelena did not reappear, and Emma decided that their position was too precarious for them to stay so close to the main revel as they were. It was time to make a move. Abandoning the Christmas trees, they crept down the aisles on hands and knees until they had a clear path to the escalators. Emma wondered if trying to slide down the handrail would be quieter than going down on foot but gave it up as a bad job. She’d only end up in a heap at the bottom with a broken neck if she tried.

The ground floor was blessedly quiet, and they were almost on the home stretch. There were sounds of hustle and bustle coming from the food hall, no doubt where the drinks and nibbles for the party were being dispensed, but thankfully, they didn’t need to go through that way to get down to the basement. They just had to get through jewellery.

It was dark in the jewellery section, all shut up ready for the Christmas break, apart from the flashing red lights in the corners of all the display units showing that the alarm system was activated. Some of the glass cases were ominously empty, and Emma knew that they contained treasures so precious they were locked up tight in safes overnight. She read the price tag next to one such empty space and almost fainted. Some people had more money than sense.

She dived down under the unit as she heard footsteps, pulling Henry with her. Whoever it was seemed to be as furtive as they were, and Emma peeped out to see who it was. She nearly jumped out of her skin when she saw that it was Gold, and not just because of the cheerful snowman jumper that he was wearing.

He didn’t see them, and he continued creeping in the direction of the basement escalators. Emma allowed herself a little sigh of relief. At least if they went down now, Gold knew their secret and it wouldn’t matter if he saw them. Maybe he had gone down with the specific intent of making sure that they were all right, although she wasn’t sure that he cared that much about them. She was about to make a move when more footsteps came through, the quick clacking of high heels followed by the heavy thud of steel-capped boots.

“Honestly Killian, why are you still in costume? You look ridiculous now that there are no children around.”

It was Zelena’s voice, and Emma peered around the glass to see the two of them entering into the jewellery section for reasons unknown but, Emma thought, highly unlikely to be benign. She knitted her brows as she watched them moving through the display racks.

“Well, I’ll gladly take it off if you want me to, Miss West, but since it’s so bloody hot, I’m not wearing anything underneath it.” Killian waggled his eyebrows and Zelena made a suitable noise of disgust, but then they were out of sight and out of hearing. Emma looked at Henry, who was looking just as concerned by these developments as she felt.

“I swear that there’s something fishy going on here,” she muttered. “I’m sure that Santa should not be spending so much time in the jewellery department. Anyway, they’ve gone. Let’s make a break for it.”

They took to their heels towards the escalator and crept down it as quietly as they could, keeping an eye out for Gold. He didn’t seem to be anywhere about, and Emma breathed a sigh of relief. They were almost home and dry. Almost safe. There were no other staff around in the basement, and the sounds of the party above them were muffled.

They began to pick their way back to the tent through the fake bushes they’d hidden in the previous night, and Emma caught sight of Gold. He was sitting on a camping chair a few feet from their tent, his head in his hands, rocking back and forth slightly. Emma was more than a little alarmed until she heard his mutterings.

“I hate Christmas parties,” he growled.

Emma peered through the bushes. He really seemed to be extremely upset, and she wondered if there was anything that they ought to do to help him, never mind the fact that they were supposed to be staying out of sight. He’d helped them after all, by keeping their secret. The least that they could do was return the favour.

“Are you ok?” she hissed. Gold almost jumped out of his skin, then turned around and saw her face. He came over and crouched down beside her.

“I’m not even going to ask how you managed to get through the crush upstairs,” he whispered. “And no, I’m not.”

“Anything we can do?”

Gold gave their hiding place the onceover and scoffed. “All things considered, I really don’t think you’re in a position to be offering help or advice.”

“Hey, just trying to return a good deed here. If it’s not wanted, then I’ll gladly make my way back to my tent.”

Gold sighed, and he stayed silent for a long time before speaking in barely a whisper through gritted teeth. “I’m a recovering alcoholic and free-flowing champagne is not exactly helpful.” He gave a snort of humourless laughter. “I’m hiding as much as you are.”

“Well, you’re welcome to use any of the tents that aren’t ours; there’s not really enough room for you as well as all our bags.

“Thanks. I think…” Gold tailed off, and then quickly stood up, shoving the fake bushes back in front of Emma as someone came down the escalator.

“Mr Gold! What are you doing down here in Camping and Outdoors, of all places!” It was Zelena. God, the woman was like a bad penny, she just kept turning up.

“Zelena, if you proceed to tell me that I should be on the outside of the building…”

“No, no, no, of course not! You should be upstairs enjoying yourself like everyone else. Champagne and nibbles!”

“I’ll pass, thanks.” He sidestepped neatly to hide Emma and Henry as Zelena came up to him.

“What are you doing down here?” she asked. “Anyone would think that you were hiding in dark corners for dark purposes.”

“No, just looking for a bit of peace and quiet.”

“Aw.” Zelena pouted, producing a sprig of mistletoe from behind her back. “Still, we can have a little party of two down here.”

“I’d really rather not.” He sidestepped again but Zelena had him cornered.

“You know, Mr Gold, I think I’m a little bit tipsy.”

“Miss West, if anyone in this building knows tipsy, it’s me, and I can tell you that you are stone cold sober, so please let me go home.”

He was almost out past her when Zelena grabbed his shoulders and dived in to kiss him. Above her, Emma heard a faint little gasp, and she glanced up to see Belle at the top of the escalator.

Emma closed her eyes and groaned; it was turning into a terrible romantic movie full of misunderstandings, and there was nothing that she could do to stop it. She wanted to tell Belle that all was not lost, that her little flirtation with Gold was still intact, that Zelena’s attentions were wholly unwanted, but she couldn’t exactly do that whilst hidden in a plastic forest.

Thankfully, cinematic pathos did not play out in real life, and Belle did not run from the scene in tears. This was reality and not a terrible romantic movie. Belle and Gold knew each other, and Emma knew that they were united in their hatred of Zelena.

Belle continued her descent down the escalator just as Gold succeeded in pushing Zelena off him.

“Alistair! I’ve been looking all over for you.” Belle marched smartly up to him, linking her arm through his and giving Zelena her sweetest smile as she pulled him away. “Come on, I’ve called us a taxi.”

“Where are we…” Gold cottoned on and leaned in to peck a kiss to Belle’s cheek. “Thank you, darling. What would I do without you?”

They moved away further into the camping section, leaving a fuming Zelena to stomp back up the escalator. As soon as she was out of earshot, Belle burst into a giggling fit, covering her mouth with her hand.

“I really do have a taxi waiting,” she said. “I can drop you at your place if you like.”

Gold shook his head, a blush rising in his cheeks. “It’s ok, it’s only ten minutes’ walk.”

“It’s snowing out.” Belle bit her bottom lip. “And with your ankle, you know.”

Gold relented. “Ok. Thank you, Belle.” He paused. “I was thinking… Since I haven’t got Bae this year… Would you like to come for Christmas lunch tomorrow? There’s enough food, I got enough for two. Of course, you probably have your own plans…”

“No, no.” Belle’s face lit up brighter than a Christmas tree. “No, that would be wonderful. Thank you, Alistair.”

She went up on her toes to press her lips against his, a much more welcome kiss than the one Zelena had given him, and Emma smiled as Gold returned it. A little Christmas miracle after all.

She waited until they had made their way up the escalator and the coast was definitely clear before she and Henry made their way back to their tent. She was surprised to find a small red envelope waiting for them. The envelope just read Happy Christmas in spidery hand. Inside was a card covered in dancing cartoon reindeer.

To Henry and Mum.

Best wishes for a happy Christmas and much better luck for all of us in the new year.

Alistair Gold

Emma put the card up in pride of place on top of their luggage.

Definitely a little Christmas miracle.