#this isn’t about like cool smear frames or something we all didn’t notice but even then people who post those cool findings never demand

[kimtsunoyaiba]

I don’t talk much here about anything outside of Kimetsu itself, but I’ve noticed some people in this fandom try to take credit for… literal screenshots. It’s a bit wild.

[binniesthighs]

cherry knot | reader x ryujin

a/n: you may be thinking to yourself, ro! a gg fic?? how unlike you!! well, boy do i have news for you 😂 truthfully, i’ve always been toying with the idea of writing a lil somethin’ (esp for ryujin god i love her) so i thought why not! if this isn’t your cup of tea, that’s totally okay <3 those who do read, thank you so much for reading and i hope that ya like it hehe and let me know what you think of it! :D (thank you @dom--minnie​ for enabling me too ;) 

cherry knot | reader x ryujin 

🍒 Pairing: self insert, female reader x shin ryujin 

🍒 Genre: fluff n’ a lil bit suggestive 

🍒 Tags: friends to lovers, high school au (everyone depicted is 18+), all girls school au, high school crush!ryujin, shy!reader, confession of feelings, that good, good makin’ out, ryujin being flirty and smug as hell bc i love her, yeah this is just me gushing about shin ryujin, ro trying new things on the blog :) 

🍒 Word count: 2.9k 

🍒 CWs: mentions of food and eating reader included

The grass felt sticky and uncomfortable under your crossed legs, and when you swiped your hand against the skin, you could feel the indentation from the blades. Your knee-high socks felt itchy too; everything felt itchy. Even the cotton of your shirt felt like it was suffocating, and the bow tied around your neck which hung loosely should have hung even looser. 

To distract yourself, you plucked up the blades of green and tied them into knots absentmindedly. It was easier to pay attention to your idle hands compared to paying attention to her. 

Could she even tell that you were looking? Could she see out of the corner of her eye when she threw her cotton-candy pink hair behind her ear? Could she tell that you watched as she gulped down the lemonade and caught a glance at the peachy fuzz of her neck exposed by her collar? 

Stop looking. Stop looking. 

Your other friends tied up their hair in clips and with lazy hair ties to free their sweating necks from the sun. No matter the sweltering heat, it was always tradition for your picnic just before the summer vacation. One of them had brought a cake and each of the girls attacked it viciously with small forks and smeared bits of frosting on each other’s noses. 

“Come here!! You’re next!!” They beamed while launching themselves in your direction to dot your nose with the white cream. 

A flurry of high pitched giggles peeled out from each of you once another frosting victim had been dubbed. Your cheeks felt furiously hot knowing that she was looking; and that she was laughing along with the rest of them. 

“Awwww cute.” She adored with a smile that turned her dimples into whiskers on her cheeks. 

You quickly wiped it off with a handkerchief that settled into your damp hand.  

She’s looking, she’s looking…

The other girls pranced around the checkered picnic blanket in their white socks--undoubtedly painting them with green that their mothers would scold them for later. Their careless steps made a mess of the food wrappers and canvas backpacks that held down the corners of the thin fabric. The joyous cheers of the girls seemed to harmonize with the song of the cicadas in the trees; both sounds reminded you of the coming of the summer and the humid weather that makes the air dense. 

One of the girls brought out her phone and played loudly from it one of her favorite songs which she knew every word too, regardless of the fact that her tone was far from the singer’s. 

You and your friends never cared much for how others would view you. Even at school when you would march through the hallways arm-and-arm, others would stare at the way that none of you batted an eye at those who would glare. 

They were just jealous was all. 

“Be careful!!” You found yourself scolding, “What if you fall running around like that?” 

In response, your friends promptly stuck out their tongues in your general direction. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Ryujin coolly popped another cherry into her mouth from the bowl by her crossed legs. “If they fall, let them! It's funnier that way.” 

She threw a wink right at you, which you almost didn’t catch because you had quickly averted your eyes to become much more interested in the tiny tea-cakes. 

“You’re always worrying Y/n! Its summer!”

“I-I do not.” 

Ryujin chuckled in that way that always made you feel like your heart was just about ready to leap out of your chest. 

“Lighten up! Come on!” 

Before you could process it all, your friend patted down the wrinkles in her skirt and threw off her shoes. She rose, and neared your corner of the blanket with hands outstretched. 

“Stop worrying about things or if people are watching!” She scolded you with a cute and tiny pout, “Get up!” Ryujin wriggled her hands with emphasis to show you that you could take hold of them. 

“W-what…?” 

The other girls giggled on, hardly even noticing the two of you over their singing. 

You grabbed onto her hands, already loathing how damp your own felt against hers out of your own nervousness. She still held onto you tightly, saying nothing of them and helped you to your feet. Immediately she brightened once you played along and started to swing your arms in tune with the song. Your friend lip synced to the rap part and you felt just about ready to swoon from how cool she looked saying the words with ease. 

“Dance with me!! Don’t pay attention to people walking by or anything like that!” 

Ryunjin led you by the hand to the patch of grass with little white and pink flowers laced into it. You really did try to pay attention to dancing, but everything else seemed to be distracting even when you tried hard enough. She brought your hand up higher to spin her, and when she twisted, everything seemed to happen in slow motion: the billow of her plaid shirt, her rosy-pink hair which swiped just at her shoulders, even the way that the sunset melted behind her into swirls of sunburst yellow and vibrant orange. It was like she was all a part of it. 

“Your turn!” She said, twisting you too. 

You didn’t realize that you would have been as dizzied by it as you were, but when you lost your footing, she was just as quick to help you with her hands carefully grasped onto your shoulders. 

“You okay?” Ryujin asked, out of breath, but still genuine. 

“I’m fine!” 

Your knees wobbled with barely any strength to them, but you mustered every bit of confidence that you had to keep being this close to her. You surprised yourself when you reached back for her hands to continue swinging them between you. 

The other girls collapsed back onto the blanket in a pile of shallow exhales and airy laughs that they exchanged between them. 

“No more dancing, I-I can’t do any more…” One of them announced while leaning against the shoulder of another one of your friends. 

“I forgot! I brought this!!” One of your friends with pigtail braids dove deeply into her backpack and pulled out nearly all of the contents before finding the small cube-case which was decorated with an obscene amount of keychains. “My camera! We have to take some pictures so that we can remember this!” 

The other girls squealed in agreement and ganged up on her to fit into the frame of the white Polaroid camera that she had also splattered with stickers. 

“Here, I wanna show you something.” Ryujin drew your attention back to the blanket where she settled back down with her own bag draped over her legs. 

“What is it?” 

“Ryujinnie! I wanna take your picture too! Your pink hair is so pretty…” One of your friends cooed with a sad downturn to her lips, “I hope that you never change it.” 

“Hmm, I don’t know. We’ll see. My cousin has been saying that she wants to see what I would look like blonde these days.” 

The small talk didn’t concern you too much, you were more concerned with what it was that your friend had to show you. 

“I’m going on a trip with my cousins soon so we’ll see what happens.” 

Your friend sighed, and skipped over the mess of the blanket to pull Ryujin by the wrist to the walkway a little farther off. “You’d look so cute over here!” 

She pardoned her, and stumbled after the eager girl to let her take a Polaroid of her. Even from far away, you could still hear the two of them admire the picture with happy little expressions of “ah! I told you that it would look good!” 

The two girls returned, and you began to worry if your friend even remembered what she had said in the first place. 

What is it? What does she want to show me? 

“Shoot!!” Another one of your friends huffed out while looking at her phone, “I forgot that I have to tutor the middle schoolers today!! I’m late!!” 

The girls went to action in a mere matter of seconds sweeping up the picnic assortment and shoving the leftovers into their backpacks. 

You helped them and tried to look over to your other friend who didn’t return your glances. Perhaps she really had forgotten. 

You let your imagination run wild for just a few moments, although the more that you did, the more it all just seemed preposterous. Maybe it was a confession letter, maybe she had written for you one of those poems like she had liked to do, maybe she had rather wanted to talk to you about something...say something that you wanted to say back…

“I’m going to stick around.” Ryunjin said suddenly with her hands on her hips. “Y/n, you’re welcome to stay too if you want. We don’t exactly have to go home yet since the sun’s still up.” 

Your friends looked to you for your answer, to which you stammered out an, “O-okay…” The best that you could. 

“See you later!!” They called after with their shoes only half-slid onto their feet. 

You waved them off, but the farther that they walked away, the more the realization started to hit you that you were alone with her. The sound of your heartbeat echoed in your ears, and you calmed it trying to think about anything else but the fact that now her attention was truly undivided upon you. 

“You said that you wanted to show me something?” 

Your friend nodded, and patted the grass beside her for you to join her. She gathered up the small bundle of cherries left behind and positioned them into her lap. 

“I learned this trick a little bit ago and I wanted to show you!” 

“A trick?” 

She nodded, and plucked from one of the crimson berries a stem which she put directly into her mouth. 

“What are you doing?!” On the surface, it didn’t seem like the most sanitary thing to do. 

Ryunjin stifled a laugh and lightly hit you on the arm to chastise you. “Just wait a minute!” 

You watched in your confusion as her face contorted a little, and her eyebrows twisted like she was thinking. Her cheeks puffed a little too, and you could tell that she was doing something with it in her mouth--it was only then when you realized that you had been intensely observing her mouth. 

In your embarrassment you threw your eyes in the other direction, but it was no use one you heard her start to giggle at how flustered you had become. 

“It’s okay, you’re supposed to look.” She assured you. 

“What-what is it?” 

“Annnnd done!” Your friend proclaimed proudly and you struggled to meet her again without feeling like your whole face and the tips of your ears were burning up. 

Right on the pink of her tongue she had tied the stem into a tiny knot which she displayed proudly. 

“You...did that with your tongue?” 

“Mm-hm!” 

Your hands reduced back to their clammy state, and they found the grass between your own folded legs to find something to do. 

“That's...that’s pretty cool…” 

“I know right?!” 

Back came your friend's little dimples, and this time your chest started to feel like it was swelling with heat. 

Stop looking, stop looking…

“I can teach you how to do it some day if you’d like.” Ryujin’s tone dropped lower, and more serious in the way that some had thought to be intimidating. To you, there was nothing more that could make you feel the beat of your own heart more obviously. 

“Teach me? How??” 

The question felt like a butterfly in your lips, fluttering and ticklish, light and uncertain. You met her eyes the best you could; even though you knew that there was nothing about her that you didn’t already know, or that was threatening. 

Your friend tilted her head, inspecting you and the way that you could barely keep your glance away from her lips--stained just a little red from the cherries--then smiled. 

“W-what? What is it? Why are you smiling?” 

She sighed, and craned forward on one of her hands in the grass, bridging the distance between the two of you to caress down the side of your face, all the way to your jaw with the back of her fingers. 

“You’re just too cute.” 

“Hm?” Your chest threw itself up and down, and you could thinly feel the breath that tried to fill your lungs when she was this close. 

“I just can’t handle it any more.” 

“Me?” 

Ryunjin nodded, softening her eyes until they were nearly closed, and rid the two of you of all space, leaning over just so you could feel the weight of her chest nearly pressing into yours. At first, she placed the lightest of kisses into you, so light that it barely brushed against your lips, but merely imprinted upon them. She leaned back, leaving you with the ghost of a feeling of her upon you. It felt a bit unfair how fleeting it was, and how she looked at you like that: smug as ever, but as blissful as she always was. 

Your breaths tried to make sense of it all, if it had just happened, and what to think of it. As quick as it was, all you could want was to feel it again. 

“Ryu--” 

She cradled both sides of your face in hers, leaning in with more fervor and parting your lips with hers, leaving you to squeak from the sudden movement. You couldn’t figure out how to kiss back at first, or if you should hold her too. Your head felt like it was spinning in circles from your disbelief when you could taste the tiny tang of the sweet and sour cherries which lingered on her lips. She rubbed her thumbs into your cheeks, and angled you better to let her growing smile paint your own mouth from corner to corner. 

At last, you were able to find a rhythm which suited you, and you kissed her right back. She giggled at your stroke of confidence and the vibrations made your whole body tingle. Your feet had surely fallen asleep where you had folded them beside you, but the numb feeling of them dissolved once her hands fell to your shoulder where she held to you tightly. The pressure from the tips of her fingers made you shiver, and you too smoothed down the pink shine of her hair. 

The warm and ticklish feeling of her tongue grazed your lower lip where she changed her approach and deepened her kiss. The heat of tongues finally met in the middle testing and learning more of the other the closer that you became, and tiny airy gasps got stuck between both of your curiosity. In your lap, her hands found yours and they laced together and held tight; each digit wrapping the other and becoming one with the eagerness of her thumb rubbing little circles into the squishy parts of your hand. 

After the heat of your passion started to melt, you found yourself hiding your giddy laughter the best you could once she started to peck at your lips over and over until you felt like she had kissed you so close to the brim that you would overflow. 

“I said that you’re cute and I mean it!” She snuck the phrase in between a couple more kisses, eliciting you to fold up in your giddy embarrassment from the compliment. 

Ryunjin pulled away, and popped another cherry into her mouth from the bundle, then threw her arms around your shoulders. You simply let your hands rest in her lap covered by the plaid of her skirt; shaking from the release of the endorphins and the adrenaline. 

“Ryujin...I wanted to tell you that I’ve had a crush on you for a...really long time…” You shied, but she brought your chin back to look at her directly. 

“Good. Me too.” 

You couldn’t even process the combination of her words for them to make sense. White noise filled your ears, even though it should have been obvious from the way that she had kissed you like that. 

“Oh! Here. I wanted to give this to you too. Something to remember me by.” 

She reached for her bag, and pulled out a white-out pen from the front pocket. The Polaroid had faded into its full color, and she focused with her tongue peeking from her mouth as she wrote the message: 

see you soon <3 

- ryujinnie 

Over her head in the picture, she doodled a few hearts, then she blew on the ink to dry it. 

“For you!” 

You took the picture with your hands still thoroughly shaking, and all you could utter was a “thanks” while you took in your friend looking as gorgeous as she always was. You knew then that you would treasure the image forever, and the day which it was taken. 

“Who knows,” Ryujin started, and let her head fall to your shoulder where she nuzzled in, “This might be the last that you’ll see of my pink hair too.” 

You turned the picture over, already sensing how it made your heart feel like it was aching sticky and sweet, just like the cherries. 

~🌹~

Bunch of (Ro)ses! 

@minaamhh @dazzlehoseok @synnocence @jjewibeans @hyunsluvv @unexceptional-h @bobawithchaitea @lechanters @sailorhyunjinz @silencefavarchive @lunarskzzz  @yourdaddychan @bubblelixie @spnobsessedmemes @cherrychngkyn @iwanttobangchan @dom--minnie @waterthemoon @pastelracha @mistakensilence @hotgorloikawa @bowlofblueberries @lmhmins @eunaeiekim 

[triplexdoublex]

Sex Drive part 2

Pairings: Colson x Reader, Colson x Reader x Rook Reader x Rook

Warnings/tags: smut, unexpected exhibitionism, threesome, double penetration, anal, choking, hair pulling, mild spitting, humiliation, jealousy, being walked in on

Authors note: Being wet DOES NOT = consent irl, just had to put that out there as it may seen I’m suggesting that in a certain scene, Kells is just saying sexy shit and reader is 100% consenting.

Part 1 here

*************

“I knew you wouldn’t be able to go without sex the whole month,” you tease with a giggle as Colson secures his black flag bandana around your eyes from behind you. “Can’t even make it two more weeks, huh?” You tease.

He roughly grips your jaw, turning your head to speak into your ear. “Funny, I don’t remember giving you permission to talk,” he grits through his teeth as he strips your body bare. “Now, walk!” he commands, pushing you forward.

“Oooh where are we going?” You question playfully.

“Don’t worry about it,” he quips, shoving you through the doorway of the adjoining hotel room, unbeknownst to you.

Once inside the room he quickly removes the bandana from your eyes and tosses you down on the bed before you have a chance to view your surroundings.

“Colson?” you push yourself up on your hands confused. “This isn’t our ro — Jesus Christ!” You shriek when you take notice of Rook sitting in an oversized chair in the corner of the room, his elbows resting on his knees with both hands wrapped around the neck of a beer bottle between his legs, his eyes scoping out your naked frame. “What the hell is going on?” You look quizzically between Colson and Rook while clutching a pillow over your exposed body.

Colson looks proud of himself, smirking as he watches your face morph through a series of reds, settling on the brightest. If there was one thing stronger than Colson’s jealousy it was his humiliation kink. He loved the way you blushed and got all shy and flustered whenever you got embarrassed, and he couldn’t think of anything more embarrassing for you than one of his best friends seeing your most intimate areas… and perhaps even touching them — with your permission of course.

“Is someone gonna answer me, what’s going on?” You repeat.

“Well I figured with all the times I’ve caught you checking out Rook I’d give you the opportunity to fuck him.” Colson answers nonchalantly.

“Colson I thought we established I was only checking him out to make you jealous so you’d be more rough with me,” you remind him. ‘Ok maybe the use of the word ‘only’ was stretching the truth a bit,’ you think to yourself. You know damn well that wasn’t the only reason. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t find Rook attractive. “That’s why I’m punished, ‘no dick for a month’ remember?”

“That’s not what I said — I said you’re not getting MY dick for a month. You’re welcome to have Rooks….while I watch of course,” he smirks.

As if that was his cue, Rook stands and walks over towards you. He places his half drunken beer on the nightstand and takes a seat at the foot of the bed.

You swear your heart stops beating for a full ten seconds before you can form words. “Have you gone insane!? You want me to fuck Rook...while you watch?” You question in shock, certain he has lost his damn mind.

“Well, I mean, you’re free to say no… but let’s be honest, we both know that you won’t,” Colson sits on the bed next to you and snatches the pillow covering you from your grasp. “Just look at that pussy, glistening!” He prys your legs open to show Rook just how much the whole idea already has you absolutely dripping. “Now does this look like the pussy of a girl who’s about to say no?” he runs a finger through your slick folds gathering your arosal and turns to Rook who just bites his lip and shakes his head.

There’s no hiding the fact that you want this, you’re more shocked at how into it Colson seems, but he’s right, you certainly weren’t gonna say no.

“Don’t be shy, come have a taste Rookie,” Colson taunts holding out his glossed finger. Rook moves further up the bed, opposite colson, one boy now on each side of you. He leans in and extends his tongue curling it around the silken thread of your excitement stringing from Colson’s finger, and pulls it into his mouth.

“Whatcha think bro, how she taste?”

“Mmmm, fuck! Amazing actually!” Rook exclaims, smacking his tongue against his lips, savoring your essence. “No word of a lie bro, some of the best pussy I’ve ever tasted, ya lucky bastard.”

“Yeah?” Colson’s chuckles at his enthusiasm. “Well help me get her warmed up a little, then she’s all yours,” he says gently stroking your clit. “Although she clearly doesn’t need it,” he jokes, amused by how wet you are. “But something tells me she’ll enjoy both of us playing with her for a bit. Ain’t that right baby?” He smirks, looking at you.

“Please,” you squirm under Colson’s touch and the anticipation of Rooks.

Slowly Rook begins trailing the tips of his fingers up your inner thigh, inching closer to where to want it most before finally joining Colson’s. They join forces , sandwiching your clit between both of their fingertips as they work you methodically.

“Oh, fuck,” your voice shakes, a cocktail of nerves and pleasure coursing through you. As good as it feels and as much as you want it , you can’t help but be a little anxious, it’s been a long time since anyone but Colson has seen you naked never mind touching you like this. “You two are gonna be the death of me,” you moan breathily arching your back up off the bed.

“Relax slut, this just the beginning” Colson leans in, his warm breath ghosting over your nipples as he glides his fingers down to your entrance. He easily slips in two of them, the cool metal of his rings bumping against your warm heat with every curl of his fingers; Rook now having solo reign over your clit. Colson’s free hand grips your breast, his thumb and forefinger tugging at your nipple, before taking it into his mouth. Rook follows suit attaching his mouth to your opposite breast, making sure to leave soft violet markings in his wake, claiming you, if only for the night.

“Alright, I’ll let you take over from here,” Colson says to Rook, slipping his fingers out of you. “Be a good girl for Rook,” he grips your chin smearing your juices along your jawline before retreating to the oversized chair in the corner, where he begins palming himself through his jeans. And like a shark to blood, Rook is drawn to your scent, his mouth moving up your chest, and neck, devouring your slick remnants with open mouthed kisses, while he continues to massage the sweet spot between your thighs.

“You taste so good,” he smiles against your mouth before kissing you. His tongue prods at your lips , begging for entrance. You part your pout welcoming him inside; your tongues beginning a do-si-do. He feels so foreign in your mouth; taboo in the best way.

“Yeah?” You break the kiss. “Why don’t you taste it straight from the source,” you say seductively.

“Yes ma’am. Don’t gotta tell me twice,” Rook smirks before disappearing between your thighs.

“Now we’re getting somewhere!” Colson chides from the corner of the room, freeing himself from the confines of his bulging jeans. Slowly, he strokes himself in rhythm with Rooks tongue fucking in and out of you, watching as he gathers your sweetness on his tastebuds.

“Mmmmm, God—“ Rook huffs in unbelievable enjoyment against your core, before attaching his lips snugly around your clit, providing it with gentle pulsating suction. It’s different than you’re used to — Kells being more of the rapid tongue flicking type— but damn, if it doesn’t feel equally as good.

“Uhh, yes! Just like that, Rook. Don’t stop!” You exclaim in pleasure; one hand gripping the sheets, the other the back of Rooks neck.

Hearing you say Rook’s name like that has Colson squeezing his cock harder and faster, his jealousy unintentionally tightening his grip. He’s enjoying watching you be pleasured but can’t curb feeling possessive, in fear that perhaps you’re enjoying this a little TOO much.

“I still... Mmm...can’t… get over… how good you taste,” Rook speaks between open-mouth kisses to your tenderness. “I swear I could eat you as my last meal,”

“Dawg, keep talking to my fucking girl like that and it WILL be your last meal,” Colson half jokes, his jealousy peaking for sure — now beating his dick as if it were Rook. “How ‘bout you just shut up and fuck her now, before I change my mind.”

“Ready?” Rook questions with a smirk ,from between your thighs.

“Ready!” You squirm impatiently, already missing the contact of his tongue .

Quickly, Rook strips off his leather vest and other clothing until he’s completely naked. Just as he’s about to get settled between your legs Colson pipes up again from the corner.

“Baby I want you to ride him, lemme see those titties and ass bounce for me while you fuck yourself on his dick.”

“Mmmm hell yeah! I wanna see too,” Rook says excitedly, moving to lay on his back; arms behind his head.

“You’re pushing it Rook!” Colson warns.

“Baby, chill,” you giggle at how flustered Colson’s getting. “I know this pussy only belongs to you,” you turn facing him, spreading yourself open. Colson groans at the sight, his eyes momentarily slipping shut as he tries not to bust right there. “Besides—,” you smirk. “This was your idea.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah C’mon… less talking, more fucking,” Colson orders.

You climb over Rook who’s waiting with cock in hand pointed towards the heavens and squat over him, hovering just above the tip before sinking down to the hilt with a moan. You push back up, and come down fast, your skin echoing off Rooks with a slap.

“Ugh fuck!,” Rook sits halfway up to mouth at your breasts and neck as you continue to bounce in his lap.

You turn your head back slightly to watch Colson, his teeth sunken deep into his bottom lip, eyes so intensely glued to every roll of your hips, and his hips thrusting up to fuck into his own palm. You turn back to Rook and pick up the pace riding him harder and faster knowing Colson’s close to finishing. You don’t know what burns more the desire inside of you or your thighs, but you don’t stop, determined to make both men and yourself cum at any moment now.

“Oh, Rook!” You cry out with your head thrown back and hands planted firmly on his tattooed chest. You’re so so close.

“Ahww, shit, you gonna cum?” Rook questions out of breath. “Me too.”

Just then the hotel door clicks open “Hey, Rook have you seen Kel— WHAT THE FUCK!!” Exclaims Slim completely caught off guard by what he’s seeing, bringing you and Rook to a halt. “Girl, I know you think it’s cute to make Kells jealous and shit so he’ll choke or whatever crazy shit you’re into but you took it took it too far this time, cuz Kells about to choke both you to DEATH when he finds out.”

“Yo! Why the fuck does everyone keep talking when I’m tryna cum?” Colson yells annoyed and on the edge from the corner of the room.

“Kells???” Slim questions peering around the door. “Da fuck is going on in here? Ya know what, second thought, I don’t wanna know. I— I’m just… I’m just gonna go,” Slim states in utter shock and confusion as he backs out the door.

“Good idea, try fucking knocking next time maybe? Rook shouts after him.

“Fuck, my legs are killing me!” You huff as soon as you hear the door click shut, shifting your weight onto your knees. Immediately, Rook takes over, snapping his hips up and into you from below.

“Aye, I can’t take this shit no more my hands about to fucking fall off, lemme get in there,” Colson says getting up from the chair and kicking off his jeans and boxers. He tugs his shirt over his head and climbs behind you on the bed. He spits in his hand ,coating his cock with his saliva, then brings the tip to the only hole not currently occupied: your ass. You’re no stranger to anal; it is Colson’s favorite afterall. You welcome the penetrating stretch as he pushes in. It’s slightly awkward at first as the boys figure out and establish a rhythm that works for all three of you. Their cocks pound in and out of you in unison; one in each hole, providing you with the most pleasurable, satisfying fullness. “Unh, baby so fucking good for us. Taking it so well,” Colson praises you through gritted teeth . “You like being a little whore for us like this, huh? Rook fucking your pussy while I fuck this ass?” He asks crudely with a hardy slap to your backside.

“I fucking love it — YES! Treat me like a fucking whore!” You exclaim in wild passion, as you teeter on the edge of orgasm.

“Oh we’ll treat you like a whore alright!” Colson speaks through his groans, grabbing a fistful of your hair using it as leverage to pound into you harder.

With your head yanked back in Colson’s grasp, Rook takes advantage of the unoccupied column of flesh above him, wrapping his hand tightly around your throat. The way both boys have you feeling like a used plaything has you cumming in seconds, riding out wave after wave. The noise they make as you clench around them both is like heaven; Rook’s slightly louder and high pitched than Colson’s deep throaty rumble. They cum almost in perfect time with eachother; with Colson just a few seconds sooner, filling your ass with his warmth, as Rook pulls out, busting his load up onto your stomach. The three of you collapse into a sticky sweaty mess, both boys rolling to your sides; the air thick with heavy breathing and the smell of sex.

The way Rook looks completely spent and fucked out of his mind is hilariously adorable; still trying desperately to catch his breath, his leg visibly twitching and shaking and his hand running through his sweaty hair with a ‘did that really just happen?’ expression on his face .

“You ok there buddy?” Colson’s laughs, reaching over you to give Rook’s arm a tap with the back of his hand. Colson’s used to having crazy sex with you by now.

“Umm ...I think so.” He releases a long winded breath followed by a brief chuckle.

“You know what my favorite part about this was?” You turn to Colson. “I broke you!!” You tease.”Not only did I get Rook’s dick but I got yours too! Slim was right when he said you wouldn’t last through my punishment with your sex drive!”

“For the record, I said you weren’t gonna get my dick in your PUSSY, for a month. Now correct me if I’m wrong but wasn’t that your ass I just fucked? Nice try, you’re still punished.”

*******

Tag list: @dannyboy-trash (won’t let me tag you) , @famousobservationfan @blxxdyvalentine19xx

[penaltbox]

beautiful to me - shane pinto

here’s a repost of an old favorite! if you like it let me know!!

word count: ~2.3k 

__

You watch his chest rise and fall, his lips parted slightly as he sleeps heavily. He has no clue you’re awake yet, and if you had to guess, he probably wouldn’t be up for another hour or so. He was still jet lagged, even if he wouldn’t admit it, so you knew to let him sleep. 

You lay there next to him, the sunlight streaming in on the both of you, keeping you extra warm. You missed having him so close by, having his skin pressed against yours in the early morning hours. You were immensely proud that he’d gotten to go play for his country, but you loved having him back and being wrapped in his arms. 

A little grumble in your stomach has you carefully slipping out of his grasp, reaching for his NoDak hoodie that had been tossed aside the night before. Your thoughts fade back to the need, the slight desperation you’d both had when he was finally home and you could spend the night together again. You spy your bra on top of your desk and laugh, knowing he’d launched it behind his head as soon as he’d gotten the clasp undone. Patience was not part of his game this time. 

You put the bra on your closet handle before walking out of the bedroom with a smile on your face that you can’t shake. That seemed to happen a lot when Shane was around. You make a pit stop in the bathroom before heading to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee. Leaning against the counter you scroll through your phone, looking at the pictures you’d forced him to take at dinner the night before with your friends and his teammates. It was a welcome back dinner that you’d coordinated and he’d had no idea, but you’d managed to get him a little dressed up so pictures were necessary. 

The coffee finishes brewing and you pull a mug out of the cupboard above it, setting an extra down for when Shane finally woke up. As you set the pot back down two arms wrap around your waist, making you jump and almost drop the hot liquid. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Shane says quietly, a little laugh fanning across your neck, “good morning, baby.”

You can’t help but smile anyways, turning your head to look at him and finding a match one on his face, “I didn’t even hear you walk in. I figured you’d still be sleeping for a while.”

“Bed got cold.”

He kisses your cheek before nuzzling his head into your neck, squeezing your waist a little tighter. You reach back and slip your fingers into his hair that’s all over the place. You don’t hesitate to run your hand through, tugging the strands in every direction. You feel him relax against you and you turn to kiss his head. 

“God, I missed this. The Czech was cool but Cole isn’t quite the same size as you for cuddling,” he says, making you laugh so hard you almost snort. 

“Cut it out, did you really try and cuddle him?”

“Definitely, but he’s not as nice to hold. Especially compared to last night with you,” his tone drops as he stands up, turning you around to look at him. 

You see the spark in his eye as he smirks, leaning down to kiss you with no hesitation. You press your lips against his, arms going around neck to try and pull him closer. He parts your lips to deepen the kiss as he slips one hand under your sweatshirt. You let him hold you close before you have to catch your breath. 

You pull back a little and lean your forehead against his, “didn’t get enough last night or something, Pinto?”

He huffs a little and shakes his head, “I just have a hard time seeing you in my clothes and not losing it. But I also know you need your coffee first so why don’t we do that? We can always come back to this later.”

Your heart floods over how well he knows you and you pick your mug up, stepping out of the way. He fills his own mug while you open the pantry door, looking for some food to make you both. 

“What do you think of chocolate chip muffins?” You ask, looking over at him. 

“Don’t know if that’s on the diet plan,” he says, “but I don’t really care either. That sounds good to me.”

You pull the packet from the shelf, grabbing a bowl and ingredients, Shane hovering close in case you needed any help with things as you start to mix it all together. He talks about the tournament more and you listen, loving how excited he was even though they didn’t finish exactly how they’d wanted to. You knew it had been really good exposure for him as a player, even if he’d already been drafted. 

He’s mid-sentence when you turn and look at him, trying to suppress a smile from your face. He gives you a funny look and you reach over quickly, smearing a bit of the batter on his nose. His jaw drops and he sets his mug down immediately, reaching up to wipe it off. His eyes lock on you and you can’t help but give him a wink, challenging him to try and retaliate. 

“You little shit,” he mumbles, carefully stepping forward as you step back. 

You laugh and hold your hands up, trying to keep him at arms length but he’s quicker than that. He grabs your wrist, pulling you against him. You try and fight back but he’s stronger, and soon he’s wiping a bit of the batter on your cheek as you lean heavily back against him. 

“Shane, no!” You squeal, trying to turn your face away from his attack. All it does it smear the muffin batter across your cheek and you look up at him, shocked. 

He’s laughing now as he lifts you up, his arms tight around your waist as he spins a couple times. He sets you down carefully, kissing your cheek and taking some of the batter with him. 

“Mm, tastes ready to go if you ask me.”

“You are such a pain in my ass,” you say, giggles still coming as you reach for the pan to put the muffins into. 

“Your favorite pain in the ass though,” he points at you, smiling proudly. 

You nod, not being able to deny that one, “what do you think about maybe running to the mall and getting lunch today?”

Shane shrugs, finishing off his coffee and rinsing the cup with a sigh, “that’s fine. You sure you don’t want to just hang out here today?”

“No, no,” you insist as you clean your cheek off, “we should get out. Once the muffins are done we can grab a shower and get going.”

He gives you a look like he doesn’t believe you and you push his shoulder in response. He swore it took you forever to get ready when it came to leaving, but you swore he was just impatient. 

You pop the muffins into the oven and set the timer, walking over to Shane after. He opens his arms without even thinking and you slip yours around his waist. He rocks you both back and forth, kissing your head. Whether he realizes it or not, he starts to trace the letters of his last name on the sleeve of his sweatshirt you’re wearing. You smile and let him continue, enjoying the feeling. 

It’s a good quiet as you stand there wrapped up in him, his heart beat clear under your ear pressed against his chest. He’d been gone long enough and you’d learned to appreciate these kinds of moments with him. He’s the first one to break the silence this time and you don’t expect what he says. 

“I like seeing you with my last name,” he whispers, causing you to look up at him. His fingers are still on the letters on your sleeve and you nod. 

You can’t help but blush from his words, ducking your head back into his chest. You’re trying to think of a witty response when the timer goes off. You let go of Shane and grab the oven mitt, pulling the pans out. 

“Should we maybe go shower now and then come grab these?” You ask, looking back at him. 

“Good idea,” he nods, grabbing your hand and quickly pulling you down the hall. 

You laugh, trying to get him to slow down, but it’s no use. He’s too much bigger than you for anything to be effective. He turns the shower handles on and adjusts the temperature while you pull an extra towel from the closet for him. 

You strip down and step in, letting the warm water wash over you. Shane steps in a second later, huddling underneath the stream and kissing your shoulder. You usually couldn’t keep things under control when you were together, but this time it’s different. 

Shane is being gentle, rubbing your shoulders and telling you how pretty you looked the night before, ‘not that you don’t look pretty now’ being tacked on with it. You smile, letting him talk and talk, as he seems to not be running out of things to say. 

You both take your turns getting cleaned up, a blush taking over your face when he watches you shamelessly. He doesn’t have to say a word for you to know his mind is on other things, but he behaves himself. 

He steps out of the shower first, holding your towel out for you and holding a hand out as you stepped out after him. You head right for your room, opening your closet to try and find something to wear. Shane wanders over to your speaker, turning it on and shuffling a playlist on his phone. 

You immediately start to dance a little, loving the song he’d picked. You slip a bra and underwear on, walking over to Shane as he sits on your bed. He reaches out to hold the hand you stick at him but he doesn’t move, other than the big smile that covers his face. 

“Dance with me, baby,” you smile, trying to tug him with you. 

“I don’t wanna dance right now. You do your thing,” he laughs, watching you like it’s the best thing he’s seen in weeks. 

You shrug and continue around your room, mouthing the words and pointing at him every so often. You’re pretty sure he takes a video of it, but you couldn’t care less at that point with the way he keeps laughing, the sound filling your room along with the music. You were so happy to have him back. 

You finally get your outfit pieced together, walking over to Shane and giving him a quick kiss, “okay I’m going to go do hair and makeup.”

He groans but lets you go, finally standing up to get his own clothes on. You go to work in the bathroom, noticing Shane after a couple minutes out of the corner of your eye. He stands in the doorway, leaning against the frame and watching you get ready. He doesn’t say anything, but the curious look on his face makes you blush, his gaze a little more intense than usual. 

Instead of any response from him as to what he was thinking, he brushes his teeth quickly and kisses your cheek, leaving you to finish up your routine. Once you get the finishing touches done you put everything away, going to find where Shane had wandered off to. 

In the corner of your sectional couch, with ESPN on in the background, you find him trying not to nod off. You laugh and walk around, planting yourself between his legs and leaning back against his chest. 

“Huh?” He asks, startling a little. He wraps his arms around your waist and tries to blink hard, willing himself to wake up. 

“I knew you weren’t ready to be up and moving,” you say, leaning your head back against this chest, “you need more sleep, don’t you?”

He sighs, leaning his head back against the cushions, “I mean maybe like a power nap. I’ll be good to go after that.”

You grab one of his hands, lacing your fingers through and agreeing, “maybe we should just stay in today. Stay on the couch and watch some movies or whatever. I’ve got a new bottle of wine I haven’t opened yet.”

You turn a bit to look up at him, smiling when you see his jaw dropped. You laugh and reach back, trying to push his mouth closed, but he sticks his tongue out and licks your finger. 

“Shane, that’s gross!” You giggle, wiping your finger on his pants. 

“It’s gross that you made me get up and shower just to change your plans and have us stay inside all day,” he huffs, but holds you tight against him. 

You hum, settling back into him, “tell me you don’t wanna stay here instead and we can go.”

“Well,” he says with a shrug, “we’re already comfortable here so I don’t want to make us move. Plus you’re the cutest thing when you get wine drunk and start telling me how much you like me so staying in sounds good with me.”

You groan and cover your face, because of course he’d bring that up. He loved to pick on you about that and you had yet to have anything like that you could pick on him for. 

“It’s okay, baby. You might be a little wild and crazy sometimes, but I still think you’re amazing. I’m the lucky one here,” he says, looking down at you with one eyebrow raised and a little smirk on his face. 

“You’re getting soft, P. I like it,” you smile, snuggling back into him. 

You let out a big sigh, letting your eyes close as you feel a wave of tiredness wash over you. Maybe Shane was onto something with the whole staying home thing. He’s almost asleep when he mumbles something you manage to catch before you fall asleep yourself. 

“Love you, beautiful.”

[commander-diomika]

Pairing: Grizzop drik Acht Amsterdam/Oscar Wilde

Word Count: 1700

Rating: Explicit

Additional Tags: Pet Play, Under-negotiated Kink, Collars, Gags, Xenophilia, Mushblins, Choking, It/It's pronouns, Verbal Humiliation, Kinktober 2021

Prompt: Pet play / Body Worship / Bukkake

Summary: "There is no mode of action, no form of emotion, that we do not share with the lower animals. It is only by language that we rise above them." Oscar Wilde

The main reason Grizzop was so furious when Wilde called him an "it" was that he hated how it turned him on.

“Of course, you’ve just got this shit lying around in your office, you perv.”

Wilde finished fastening the collar and lead around Grizzop’s neck. He took Grizzop’s face in one hand and leant forward, faces close. Despite the width of Grizzop’s mouth, Wilde’s hands were big enough to grip his cheeks in fingers and thumb.

“Pets don’t talk.” Wilde said flatly.

But they do bite, Grizzop thought and lunged to chomp down on the hand wrapping over his face. His teeth snapped together on empty air. Curst, but Wilde was faster than he’d anticipated.

“No no, none of that either,” Wilde said, and from the same drawer that contained lead and collar, he drew another leather strap. “I don’t have any gags big enough for your filthy mouth but, this will do fine.” He jammed the collar into Grizzop’s mouth, pulling it and cinching it tight. It drew Grizzop’s lips back in a broad snarl but left him unable to close his teeth together. His tongue moved around the leather, tasting it and feeling a little drool leak from one side of his mouth.

“Maybe I liked it. When you called me “it.”” Grizzop stood tall and proud on the other side of Wilde’s desk, but his cheeks were stained with a nice kelp-green blush. “Maybe I want you to do it again, but naked this time.”

“You like being called an “it,” a creature?” Wilde stood thoughtfully. “I think perhaps you should be the naked one, then.” He came around the other side of the desk and locked the door. “Take your clothes off, then. Animals don’t wear clothes.”

Wilde shoved a firm hand between Grizzop’s shoulder blades. Grizzop probably could have resisted. He was certainly stronger than this fop, but then again, he’d asked for this, hadn’t he? Asked to be pushed around by a bard in a fancy suit who saw him as nothing more than a beast, and what exactly did that say about him?

He let his knees hit the floor, resigned. He gave a surprised yelp as a yank on the lead sent him down to all fours. He’d forgotten the collar was attached to a lead, firmly wound around Wilde’s hand.

“That’s a much better look for you, pet.” Grizzop growled at the rush of wet between his legs at the word.

Wilde walked a slow circle around the kneeling goblin. Grizzop couldn’t help but eye his soft leather shoes with scorn, low ankle boots that looked like they’d never touched a forest floor or felt the stain of mud on their thin soles. He lifted his head to watch Wilde’s curious, observing path around him. Suddenly there was an uncalloused hand on one ear, pulling his head back down.

“Eyes down, pet, whilst I examine you, or I’ll put blinkers on you as well as the gag.” Wilde said in a soft and sly voice.

As Grizzop leant his head down a small stream of drool fell from his open mouth onto the wood floor. Wilde’s shoe appeared in his eyeline, smearing the saliva along the floor. He gave a small, disgusted sounding humph as he did so.

“Who knew that all it would take to reduce you to a drooling mess was just to treat you like this.”

After tying the lead off onto a leg of his solid desk, Wilde returned and ran both hands experimentally down Grizzop’s flanks. Standing behind, he put a foot between Grizzop’s thighs and kicked them apart. Grizzop felt another flush at his rear being exposed. He could already feel his slit, open and wet, several tendrils peeking outwards of their own volition. He felt like a show animal, being inspected, weighed, found wanting by Wilde’s dispassionate gaze on him.

When Wilde’s hand cupped his sex, Grizzop felt a pathetic mewl rising in this throat. He quickly clenched his teeth around the strap to cut off the sound.

“My my, do goblins go into heat? Get desperate to be fucked and had? Is that what this is?” Several long fingers dipped inside him, feeling the slick there.

Wilde brought his mouth closer to Grizzop’s ear, leaning his body over Grizzop’s kneeling form. Grizzop could feel the warmth over him. “Or do you just like being treated like the animal that you are?” He accented this point with a slow thrust of fingers. Grizzop felt his tendrils winding around Wilde’s hand, welcoming him in like a friendly, traitorous cat. “You look good like this, pet. I see now why you reacted the way you did to my calling you an “it.” Excited you, didn’t it? And sex and violence are inextricable for a thing like you. Just an animal.”

Grizzop didn’t even try to bite back his mewl as Wilde withdrew the hand.

“Well, I have to see that my pet is good working order. Test its limits, of course.”

Wilde walked back to the desk, opening another drawer, and Grizzop felt his head spin. What was he doing here? He wasn’t even properly restrained. He could take his hands off the floor and undo the collars around his neck and mouth. Easily. He could just stand, pick up his clothes, and walk out right now.

He tried to slurp the saliva back into his mouth and failed, another few drops joining the growing pool between his hands, which were apparently glued to the floor. His claws gripped, scratching little marks into the polished floorboards.

Wilde came back, taking a position behind Grizzop. A hand wrapped around one long ear, drawing it out, stroking, pressing, exploring. In another scenario it could have felt tender. Here it just felt… curious. The other ear received the same treatment. He couldn’t help but sigh as Wilde gathered both ears in one hand and pulled his head back, not rough but firm. As Grizzop lifted his head, he felt his back arch naturally.

Grizzop gasped when he felt the touch of something at his entrance. Something big. The toy was cool and already slicked with something, and he felt his own wetness mingling with it, tendrils parting and pushing aside, welcoming the intrusion.

His mouth, on the other hand, gave a noise of protest as Wilde pushed the toy inside. It was far too long to be fully seated inside of him, but the girth of it was enough to stretch and sting despite the wetness there.

Wilde ran a soothing hand up Grizzop’s flank, but his voice was patronising. “Shhh, shh pet. I know what it can take.”

Grizzop tried to growl but it came out a whimper as the toy was withdrawn an inch and pressed in, finding a little more depth than he thought he’d had.

Wilde made a self-satisfied noise, stroking the toy a few more times into Grizzop. The goblin grunted, instinctively tried to lean his hips forward to lessen the depth of the strokes. Wilde’s hand dropped the ears. Faster than pencil-pusher had any right to be, Wilde threaded a hand into the collar around Grizzop’s neck and gripped, preventing him from leaning forward. The next thrust of the toy bottomed out and Grizzop’s whole frame was pushed forward. His breath came forced and ragged as his throat was constricted against the front of the collar.

Having found the limiting factors on either end, Wilde started fucking the toy into him in earnest. Grizzop was left with the choice to brace against the floor and take it, or let his body be pushed forward and choke into the collar held firm in Wilde’s hand. He felt blank and dizzy.

Grizzop braced, survival instincts the only thing left to him. The wet sound of the toy’s thrusts inside of him and his panting, wet and muffled by the strap in his mouth, were the only sounds in the room. The puddle of saliva on the floor in front of him spread.

He didn’t even notice when Wilde took the hand off the collar, but he did notice when inquisitive fingers explored around his spread-open hole, stroking the tendrils, gripping them as they twined and sought.

“God, it’s just a wet, eager hole, isn’t it?” Wilde said. He at least had the decency to sound slightly breathless as he kept up, unrelenting. His clever fingers had already deduced what Grizzop’s tendrils would like, spreading the wetness and jerking them off around the toy.

With a sick swoop of his stomach Grizzop realised he was rutting back into the stroke of the toy inside him, hot and breathless, knees sore on the hard floor.

“This is the proper look for you, ceature,” Wilde continued without letting up. “It’s just a good, slutty pet, taking this cock deep in its squirming hole.”

Grizzop felt his whole body flush and with a particularly quick and brutal twist of his tendrils, he came with a sob. His weight went out from his limbs in a wet gush and he hung, limp and gasping against the collar.

Wilde made another one of those insufferably self-satisfied sounds, lowering Grizzop to the floor. He went, boneless and pliable, his chest smearing into the drool beneath him.

Fingers, tainted with his own bitter juice, probed into his mouth around the leather.

“Now, did I fuck the biting instinct out of it?” Another finger, running over his pointed teeth. His jaw ached from being held in this awkward position, and he couldn’t find the energy to bring his teeth together.

Wilde’s quick hands unclasped the gag from Grizzop’s mouth. Wilde untied the lead from the desk, and when he tugged, Grizzop crawled on hands and knees without complaint.

Wilde toed off those soft boots and shucked his pants, settling into an armchair and spreading his legs. Pulling on the lead, he brought Grizzop’s closer.

“You may use your mouth on me, pet. And if you bite me, you won’t like the results.”

Grizzop didn’t even try to reply. At this point, he felt like he’d forgotten how. Wilde gripped him firmly by the base of his ears, and Grizzop let his quiet, wet mouth be pulled into Wilde’s cunt.

[softboywriting]

Opposites Attract | Shawn Mendes AU

Summary: Shawn. He is your brother’s friend, bad boy, long time crush and now, your new housemate. You’ve had it bad for him since you were a teenager, and he knows it too. There’s just one little problem, he isn’t your type. Or is he? Will Shawn prove to be more than the guy who picked fights and got in trouble or will he be the same guy you knew growing up? [bad boy] [fluff] [mild nsfw]

Word Count: 11k

|Masterlist In Bio|

The day you told your brother you needed a roommate because your old one moved in with her boyfriend, you were just intending to vent. Zack was halfway across the country going to college to be a lawyer, how was it he just happened to have someone to move in with you? It was the last thing you expected to hear from him, that he knows someone looking for a place, but you were desperate and rent was due soon.

The day Shawn shows up is one you won’t be forgetting any time soon. It was six in the morning, you had just woken up and gotten out of bed. It was a nice morning, cool, so you had the windows open while you made breakfast. The sound of birds was beautiful as you sang along to the radio on the kitchen counter. Life was good. Until the sound of a very loud motorcycle interrupted everything.

Loud engines weren’t anything new in your neighborhood. Most people had second hand cars and not all of them were the best. You live in a college town, beat up cars is the norm. But this was different because it was clearly a motorcycle and it was in your driveway causing a racket.

Before you could get to the front windows the sound stops. The engine shut off. You opened the door and that’s when you saw him. Shawn. Standing by his bike unloading a huge duffle bag that’s strapped to the back. When Zack said he had a friend coming to meet you about the roommate offer, you didn’t expect him to bring his stuff. In fact you didn’t remember Zack telling you which friend it was.

Shawn turned and smiled at you, a hand raised in greeting. Your heart stopped. Of all of Zack’s friends, it had to be Shawn that needed a place to stay. Shawn, the guy who picked fights with everyone in school. Shawn, the one who stole a car with Zack when they were sixteen and drove it into your neighbor’s pond. Shawn, the one who bought you your first shot when you turned nineteen and then knocked out your boyfriend for flirting with some girl at the club you were at. Granted the last one was well deserved and Gauge, your ex, was an asshole. But it just had to be him. The one person you have a history of feelings for.

You couldn’t believe you were staring him down on your front porch after all this time. All six foot and three inches of muscle, tattoos, piercings, perfect wavy brown hair and a photo ready smile. He was a handsome, problematic son of a bitch and you were playing with fire the moment you let him into the house.  

_____________________

One month. It’s one month of living with Shawn before he asks if you have a boyfriend. You’re in the bathroom, the door is open, and you’re washing your face. It’s just a normal Tuesday night and he just pops the question.

“So, you got a boyfriend?”

He’s leaning against the door frame oh so casually, arms crossed in his black tank top that shows off his full sleeve of tattoos going up to his shoulder. He’s huge, way bigger than you remember him being and you think it’s definitely because he’s bulked up. You couldn’t imagine being on the receiving end of a punch from him when you were back in high school, you definitely couldn’t imagine it now.

“Uh, no.” You turn to look at him with your face scrub smeared across your face. “Why?”

“Just curious.”

“Why?”

Shawn shrugs and you aren’t buying it.

“You looking to knock someone out? Because that’s what you did to my last boyfriend.”

He chuckles and leans his head on the door. “Gauge was a dick. You really haven’t dated since you were nineteen?”

“Oh I’ve dated.” You rinse your face and grab your moisture. “I just haven’t had a boyfriend, like a long term relationship.”

“So you’ve had hook ups?”

“Dates.” You level your eyes and pull away your hairband keeping your hair out of your face. “Hook ups imply sex.”

Shawn follows you as you walk out of the bathroom and head for the kitchen. He’s like a puppy on your heels and you can’t help but feel like he is asking all these questions for a reason.

“So you haven’t gotten laid in a while?”

“Shawn!”

“What?” He raises his hands in defense and walks back against the counter. He crosses his arms and smirks. The audacity. “We’re adults. Sex is an adult topic.”

“I’m not talking about my sex life with you.” You sigh and open the fridge to find something to make for a late dinner. You had worked over time, picking up a half shift for a friend who had to pick up her sick kid at daycare.

“You’re such a goody two shoes.”

“And you’re a nosy Nancy.”

Shawn rolls his eyes and runs a hand over his hair. “Curiosity is not nosiness.”

“Arguable. Why do you want to know anyway? Why are you curious?”

He shrugs. “We live together. I just thought I’d get to know you a little better. It’s been a few years since we really talked.”

You pull a pack of chicken from the fridge and walk around him to grab a cutting board. “Well, I’m pretty much the same person.” You look at him and give him a once over. He doesn’t fail to notice. “It seems you are too.”

“Yeah? What’s that mean?”

“It means I’m not going to hook up with you. You’re my brother’s friend and even if you weren’t, you aren’t my type.”

Shawn scoffs and grabs a banana from the fruit basket behind him. “And what is your type?”

“Good boys.” You quip, walking around him again to put your chicken in a pan.

He chuckles and remains quiet. You’re shocked.  That’s what it took to shut him up huh? You feel like this isn’t the end of this conversation. Shawn wasn’t one to relent so easily. And while he wasn’t your usual type of guy you might flirt with, you’d be damned if you said he didn’t pique your interest.

____________________

It’s pouring rain the day you lock yourself out of the house. A week ago your washer took a shit and you’ve worn everything in your closet. You packed everything up that morning and took it to your parents house half an hour away. You decide to drive home at the first signs of a storm, your mom saying she would finish up your laundry for you if you wanted to pick it up tomorrow.

By the time you pull in the driveway, it’s pouring rain and thunder is rumbling across the sky. Shawn’s bike is parked under the eve of the side of the house with a tarp over it. You hurry out of the car and up to the front door. You scramble to find your house key on your keyring and realize it’s not there. You loaned it to Shawn when he lost his keys a week ago. He found his eventually but he didn’t give you back yours.  

“Shawn!” You yell, pounding on the door. “Shawn let me in!”

The wind picks up and you shiver, pulling your jacket across your chest in an attempt to keep some of your body heat in. There is no response from inside the house. You press the doorbell relentlessly and start pounding again.

The lock clicks and the door opens to a soaking wet Shawn in a towel. “What the fu-”

“About time!” You push past him and into the house, water dripping off every inch of your body. “I need my house key back by the way.”

Shawn closes the door and turns to face you. “I’m sorry?”

You push your hair back out of your face and stare at him. He’s just as soaked as you but for a much better reason. There’s water running off the end of his nose and you can’t help but stare at his piercing. He’s got a ring in it today instead of his usual stud. It’s hot. Way too hot.

A grin spreads across his face and he licks some water off his lips. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” You snap out of your daze and remember that you’re drenched. “Give me my key when you’re done showering.”

“Yes ma'am.” He saunters past you, winking as he pushes his hair back. It’s so cliche but god damn did it work. You were fucked for him.

Fifteen minutes later and you walk into the kitchen to start some lunch. Shawn is already in there, sitting at the table looking at something on his phone. He’s still half naked, just wearing a pair of his running pants. You wish he wasn’t in there though because you are in clothes you usually reserved for men you were trying to get into bed with.

All of your clothes were at your parents house. Literally everything but one pink nightie like tank top and a pair of silky black shorts. You can’t help the flush that rises on your cheeks as you turn away from his gaze to start making a sandwich.

“That’s an awful pretty outfit for making lunch in.”

You won’t turn and look at him. You know he’s right behind you now. “Yeah well, all my clothes are at my parents house.”

“I have clothes you can wear.”

Good point. But you weren’t going to ask him for clothes. You didn’t want to smell like him and have thoughts of him being all over you. God no. This was bad enough, having him stand behind you and chat about your lingerie.

“It’s fine. I’m already wearing them.”

You see his arm, tattoos all up the forearm, before you feel his body against your back. He’s hot, in every sense of the word. He reaches up to get something overhead in the cupboard and he is so obvious. This is so painfully intentional it hurts.

“What are you doing?” You ask, trying your best to sound completely neutral.

“Getting a bowl for cereal.”

He leans forward, on his tiptoes no doubt as he presses flush against you, pressing you into the counter. He’s so big and so…fuck…you push back against him in an attempt to get him to move off of you but it ends up resulting in him dropping his head to your ear.

“You wanna do that again?” He purrs, free hand coming up and grabbing your hip.

Your body heats up, flushing from head to toe as he stands there’s waiting for your answer. You are so hot and so turned on you’re glad he can’t see your face.  

Shawn lowers his cereal bowl from the cupboard and places it in front of you with a chuckle. “I might not be your type but I definitely turn you on.” He slides his hand over your stomach and places a kiss behind your ear. “I know you think about me, and it’s okay, I think about you too.” He gives your hip a little squeeze and steps back with his bowl.

Immediately you miss his heat, but it’s fine because you generated enough of your own to melt the polar ice caps. You let your shoulders fall as you stare blankly at the sandwich fixings on the counter before you. You can hear him idly making a bowl of cereal behind you and you just…can’t turn around yet. You can’t face him. He absolutely knows you’re completely fucked for him and he is going to play it to his advantage.

____________________

Shawn is surprisingly well behaved for the next week. He doesn’t flirt with you or anything. The most he says that’s outside of a normal conversation is that he likes your outfits for work. There’s no insinuation to the compliments, it’s just him genuinely telling you that you look nice.

Saturday night a few friends invite you out for drinks at a club in downtown for your friend Trisha’s birthday. They ask you to bring Shawn after meeting him one day when he brought you your lunch you had left on the counter at home. You know the girls just wanna oggle him and that’s fine, Shawn is definitely a gorgeous guy.

The lot of you get to the club and post up in a booth on the outside of the dance floor. You and Shawn sit beside each other facing Trisha and her boyfriend Oliver while your other two friends Kate and Macy head to the bar to get drinks.  

“You wanna go dance?” Trisha asks you, leaning her head on Oliver’s shoulder. “I love this song!”

You scoot out of the booth and Shawn has ahold of your shirt. You glance back and he releases you, looking away. Did he not want you to leave him?

“What’s wrong Shawn?” You ask loudly over the music and he shakes his head.

“Nothing. Go have fun!”

Trisha drags you away, giggling as some bass boosted Taylor Swift song starts to play. Kate and Macy join the two of you and together you guys dance and sip your drinks.  

Time passes quickly while you’re having fun. Songs start to blend together, bodies in never ending motion as you completely let go of all your worries for a few hours. You’re sweaty, drunk, a total mess as you walk up to the bar for a glass of water. You may be at your limit but you know you still need water.  

Shawn is sitting at the end of the bar, chatting with some girl with long blonde hair. You catch his eye and he looks past the girl to you. She doesn’t seem to notice and you can tell by the way her very animated story is still going on. Suddenly your view is blocked by a guy in a black shirt that smells like cheap cologne.

“Hey sweetheart,” the guy purrs, leaning against the bar.

“Hi.” You turn to face the bartender who’s got his back turned while making a drink.

“I saw you dancing out there. You look like you know how to move.”

“I do. I learned to walk when I was a baby.” You deadpan, trying to give this guy a hint that you aren’t interested.

He laughs, as if you told an actual joke. “You’re a tough one huh? I love feisty girls.”

“I bet you do.” You push away from the bar to go join Macy and Kate. The guy’s hand wraps around your wrist and he pulls you back.

“I wasn’t done talking to you.”

You jerk your arm away and rub your wrist. “Don’t touch me, and I was done talking to you, so step off.”

The guy steps toward you and suddenly you’re staring at the back of Shawn’s head. He has stepped between you and the douchebag. “The lady doesn’t seem interested, why don’t you move on?”

“Why don’t you mind your business pretty boy.”

Shawn chuckles and you’re all too familiar with that particular laugh of his. It meant bad news for whoever he was chatting with. “You should really just leave her alone.”

“Fuck you gonna do about it?” The guy shoves Shawn and you step back to avoid getting knocked over.  

“Shawn don’t,” you mutter as if he was going to hear you over the music.

Before you can manage to actually say something loud enough for either guy to hear, Shawn’s arm is pulled back and he’s punching the guy in the face. The guy reels back, catching himself on the bar and people nearby start to gasp and clear away. Security steps in just as the guy lunges for Shawn.

You back away and go back to Macy and Kate. They’re both totally wasted and Trisha is at the booth with Oliver making out. You aren’t sober yourself and you don’t know what to do. You don’t want to watch Shawn fight and you sure as hell don’t want to get kicked out for getting involved. You watch from across the dancefloor as security drags both of the men outside and you grab your purse off the booth seat. You don’t bother telling anyone you’re leaving, you were just going to take a cab anyways since Oliver started drinking and he was meant to be the designated driver.

Once outside you see Shawn by his bike, wiping his face with the back of his arm. You go over to him and he looks at you as he swings his leg over the seat of the bike.

“What the hell was that about?”

“That guy was harassing you.”

“I would have been fine. I’ve dealt with assholes before.”

Shawn rolls his eyes. In the lights of a passing car you can see blood on his face, smeared from his nose no doubt. “Yeah well, he shouldn’t have grabbed you. That’s a red flag that he will do much worse given the opportunity.”

You fold your arms over your chest and look away. “I would have been fine.”

“Yeah, maybe so. But what about the next girl he preyed on if you got away?” Shawn kicks the bike to life and gets himself steadied. “You want a ride home?”

“No. I’ll call a cab.”

“Suit yourself.”

He pulls out onto the street and you watch as he takes off, the engine growing ever distant. You call a cab and wait, sitting on the edge of the street. Fights like this is why Shawn wasn’t exactly your type. Why he couldn’t be someone you got into a relationship with. It’s been four years since you saw him before he showed up ready to move in and he really was the same guy. You can’t believe you let yourself get involved with him, at least you didn’t let it go too far yet. You could still keep your distance. Maybe.

_____________________

Shawn doesn’t come home for a week after the fight at the club. You have no idea where he’s staying or if he comes home while you’re at work. He hasn’t called or texted you and his bedroom door remains ever open. You did try calling and texting him several times but to no avail. You can’t figure out what went wrong, what happened. You think maybe it has something to do with the fight at the club but he didn’t seem to care if you were mad at him about it so you dismiss that as a reason.  Your other worry is that he’s in jail for some reason, for what, you have no clue.

Friday you walk out of the laundry room, the landlord had called a guy to fix the washer a few days ago, and you see Shawn standing in the kitchen with his back to you.

“You came home.”

He turns and you drop your laundry basket. He has a little black ring in his lip. That was definitely new. And he also has a butterfly bandage on his eyebrow that makes you think he may have gotten into another fight.

“Are you okay?” He chuckles, walking over to you and crouching down to help you gather the laundry you’ve dumped everywhere.

You just gawk at him, eyes fixed on his lip. It’s so hot. You didn’t think he could be sexier but God you were so fucking wrong. “Uh, yeah. I’m fine. Where were you?”

“I was staying at a friend’s.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I needed some time to think. Sorry, I just…I needed to get away.”

You reach out and touch his eyebrow. There’s a cut leading up into his hairline from it. “Are you okay?”

“That?” He touches over your fingers and you pull away. “I stood up too fast at work. The car I was under wasn’t as raised as I thought.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah…I’m kind of a clutz I guess.”

“You? Never.” You smirk and he smiles as he stands and passes you the laundry basket. “How about the lip ring?”

“You like it?” He moves it with his tongue. “My friend Casey did it for me.”

“It’s… different.”

He grins and you flush, breaking eye contact. “You like it don’t you?”

“It’s dumb.”

“Uh huh.” He bumps your basket to get your attention and your eyes snap to him and his eyes soften. “Do you like it though, for real?”

“Yeah.” You smile. “It’s nice. I’m glad your home.”

“I’m glad to be home.”

_____________________

Waking up to the smell of sausage is a treat. You never have time anymore to make breakfast that is more than a bowl of cereal or a microwaved breakfast sandwich. So when you wake up and the house smells like breakfast back home, you almost cry.

You wander into the kitchen, expecting your mom to be making waffles on her old griddle and sausages in her cast iron pan. No. You get something entirely better. It’s Shawn.

A sleepy, messy haired, glasses wearing Shawn standing at the stove in a worn to hell tee shirt and jogging pants. He’s looks incredible, like an angel in your kitchen.

“Hey you,” he grins, turning to look at you. “Good morning.”

“What’s all this?”

“Breakfast.”

“Breakfast?”

“And an apology.” He sighs softly. “For fighting and not coming home.”

You didn’t expect that. Not from him. “It’s okay, you’re home now.”

You walk into the kitchen and lean against the counter beside him. He’s got eggs in one pan and little sausage patties in the other. Not just cooking but multi tasking. Wow. “I didn’t know you could cook.”

“I can get by.”

“It smells amazing.”

Shawn flips his eggs and looks over at you. “How do you like your eggs?”

“Over easy is fine. Soft yolks are fine but hard whites are a must.” You watch as he moves easily from pan to pan, checking the food before taking it out and serving it on two plates with toast he had already made.

“I saw Gauge yesterday.” Shawn says as he sits down with you at the dining table. “He brought his car into the shop.”

“Yeah? Still a piece of shit?”

“Yeah.” Shawn laughs around his toast. “He said he was looking for you.”

“What? Why?”

Shawn shrugs. “Dunno. I told him you left town years ago.”

You take a bite of sausage and sigh. “I know what he wants. He thinks he can get me back. He messaged me on Facebook a few weeks ago but I blocked him. He was on some bullshit about how he’s a new man.” You roll your eyes. “Like he was ever a ‘real man’. What a joke.”

“I know you aren’t really looking for anyone right now so I just wanted to steer him away, and he’s an asshole.”

“I’m not looking for anyone? Who said that?”

He pushes his remaining breakfast around on his plate and clears his throat. “N-no one said anything. I just sort of figured since you haven’t had anyone around since I moved in and stuff.”

“I haven’t had anyone around because you moved in. You’re hard to explain.”

He snorts.

“Come on. Seriously. Can you imagine going to a girl’s place and there’s this fit, tattooed and pierced guy living with her? Wouldn’t you be suspicious?”

“You have a point. So it’s my fault you haven’t been dating?”

“Well… Not completely.”

“Not completely?”

“It’s whatever.” You finish your food and take your plate to the sink. “Thank you for breakfast. It was really good.”

“Of course and…if you need to talk about…y'know stuff, I’m here.”

“Thanks Shawn.”

“Anytime.”

_____________________

“Do you remember that place we used to go camping with our families?” Shawn asks one day while helping you clean up the kitchen. It’s chore day and the two of you have been scouring the house top to bottom for hours.

“The spot at Summit Park?”

“Yeah! I couldn’t remember the name of the place. I had a dream about it last night. Do you remember when me and Zack caught that massive catfish up there?”

“Ohmygod yeah!” You rinse the sink and turn to face him. “I haven’t been there forever.”

“Let’s go then.” Shawn tosses his cleaning rag in the sink and peels his dirty shirt off over his head. Jesus Christ you could see him shirtless a thousand times and you’d never get used to it.

“What? Why?”

“Because it’s fun. Let’s get out of the house, get away from town for a few hours. We need a break anyways.”

“Okay…yeah…let’s do it.” You head to your room to change into something that isn’t your old sweats and holey tee shirt.

You meet Shawn outside and you stop when you see he’s on his bike instead of waiting by your car. He’s even got an extra helmet sitting on the seat. Oh no. Oh hell no.

“Come on,” Shawn grins, patting the seat in front of him.

“No way.”

“Yes way.”

“I am not getting on that death trap with you.”

He climbs off and stands before you with your helmet tucked under his arm.  "When are you going to trust me?“

"When I lose my mind.”

“Oh come on.” He sets the helmet on your head and the buckles dangle beside your face. “You know I would never hurt you.”

“It’s so dangerous,” you eye the black and silver bike warily. “What if we crash?”

“Honey I’ve been driving this thing since I was eighteen. I think I know how to handle it. Besides, were just going to Summit. It’s all highway and dirt roads the whole way there.”

“There’s no seat belts.”

Shawn lifts your arms up and swings them a little. “Got'em right here. You hold onto to me.”

You groan. Part of you swore years ago you would never get on a motorcycle. They’re dangerous and unstable. There was something terrifying about driving at high speeds with no seat belts or enclosure that put you on edge. But there is also part of you that wants to do it because it’s Shawn. It’s Shawn and you actually do trust him.

“Okay.” You close your eyes and take a deep breath. “Lets go before I change my mind.”

Shawn smirks. “I knew I could get you to do it!”

You regret everything immediately. Shawn is a jerk. A complete jerk. The second the two of you get out on the seemingly endless highway that leaves town he kicks the bike into high gear and starts flying down the open road. You have to hold on for dear life as he approaches what you assume to be a hundred miles per hour.

You close your eyes, grip him like he’s all you have left in this world, and wait for it to end. You feel the bike jerk, Shawn changing lanes around a car no doubt and you make the mistake of opening your eyes. A red car passes in a blur and for some reason your brain convinces you to look forward in response. Regret. Big mistake.

Shawn is in the middle of a cluster of cars and trucks. He’s weaving in and out, not slowing down for a second. The back end of a semi approaches rapidly and you dig your nails into his jacket and let out a scream. As soon as you’re sure you’re going to become a human version of a fly splattered on the back of the semi’s doors; Shawn is turning, jetting over in front of a car and taking off, speeding up to whatever you assume is the bike’s max speed.

There are no other cars as far as you can see, just open road, trees and farmland. Shawn is laughing. You can feel it in your chest. He lets out a loud yell, tilting his head back and just hollering into the vast emptiness, adrenaline coursing through his veins no doubt.

Ten more minutes of rumbling, rushing, wind whistling agony and Shawn finally starts slowing down. He turns at the sign that says Summit Park and you can’t even yell at him. Not yet. You’re still reeling, heart pounding from his little stunt.

Shawn kills the bike and you stay frozen against his back. He puts his hands over yours and you just aren’t quite ready to unpeel yourself from him. Your hands are stiff, fingers dug into his jacket.

“We stopped.” He pats your hands. “Hey, you okay back there?”

“You’re a jerk,” you whisper into his back. “A huge, metric fuck ton of a jerk.”

He chuckles. “You lived though.”

“Barely.” You peel yourself away from him and he gets off, leaving you sitting on the bike. “I’m never riding with you again.”

“Why? Because you got a little scared?”

“Because you almost killed us! You were weaving in and out of traffic like a mainiac!”

“It was fun! I was completely in control the whole time. I thought you trusted me.”

You pull off your helmet and set it over the handles. “I trust you enough. That was…that was…you didn’t give me any warning.”

He steps forward and takes your hands. “I’m sorry.” He looks down and you can tell he’s serious. “I just thought it’d be fun to get you a little adrenaline high.”

“Just…warn me next time.”

A smile spreads across his face and he gives you that troublemaker look. “Next time huh?”

“Shut up.” You drop his hands and shove him a little.

“You liked it!”’ He wraps his arms around your waist and spins your around as you squeal. “No, you loved it didn’t you?” He sets you down and kisses your head, making your heart stop.

“You’re pushing it.”

“I’ll keep pushing it.” He purrs and steps away toward the camping area. “Come on, let’s go explore.”

You shake your head and follow after him. Sure you’d been scared to death but part of it was fun, the adrenaline rush was unlike any other. What was he doing to you? Ugh.

____________________

Shawn sits on the dock beside you and passes you a bottle. It’s definitely not water and you raise your eyebrows at him. “Really? Day drinking?”

“It’s just a little bit. You seem tense.”

“Have you already drank some?”

“Not yet.”

“You aren’t going to drink and drive.” You set the bottle on the opposite side of your lap out of his immediate reach. “I’m fine, and I’m not having any alcohol. Where’d you even have this?”

“In my bag on the back of the bike.”

You sigh.

“Come on.” He bumps against your side. “We don’t work tomorrow, we could just stay out here and get away from our boring lives for a few hours. I’ll rent a cabin for us.”

“But I didn’t bring any clothes? And what about food? We can’t just go camping impromptuly.”

Shawn reaches around your back and grabs the bottle. He opens it and takes a drink much to your protest. “We can if I can’t drive us home.”

“Shawn!”

He takes another drink and smirks at you.

“I can’t believe you.” You lay back on the dock and stare at the sky. “This is the dumbest thing you’ve ever done.”

“Nah, it’s not even in the top ten.” He sets the bottle down and gets up. “Stay here, I’m going to go to the ranger station and pay for a cabin.”

You close your eyes. How on earth did you manage to let him rope you into this situation? You never should have agreed to ride on that bike with him. Now you’re stuck out in the middle of nowhere on an impromptu camping trip. He was going to pay for this.  

A few hours pass and the sun begins to set on the lake. Shawn had gotten a cabin close to the water and some food from the ranger station. You forgot they had a little store in there for campers who forgot things. You and Shawn spent the majority of the last few hours hiking in the woods and looking for firewood while chatting about the good old days when your families and some other family friends would all come out twice a year for a week long camping trip. It’s not going as bad as you thought it would and you are actually having a good time reliving your youth.

You’ve gotten a fire started in the little pit outside the cabin and you and Shawn are sitting around it eating your pop tarts and trail mix he picked up. The sun is almost below the horizon and you can feel the temperature drop a bit. It’s chilly and Shawn comes over and puts his leather jacket around you.

“Remember the first time we kissed?” He asks as he sits on the log beside you.

“What?” You laugh, looking over at him. He looks so good in the glow of the fire light. It dances off his eyes and the ring in his lip. Fuck he looks incredible. “We’ve never kissed.”

“Oh yes we have. You don’t remember? It was here.”

“What are you talking about? How much of that bottle have you drank?”

He stokes the fire with the big stick you found earlier behind the cabin. “Wow. I’m hurt you don’t remember. It was probably the second to last time we all came up here. I think it was right before graduation.”

“When you snuck that bottle of jack daniels from your dad’s liquor cabinet?”

“Yeah, and all of us kids sat around the fire after our parents went to bed and passed it around.”

You laugh. “Yeah, that was the first time I ever had alcohol. God it was so gross.”

Shawn smiles at you. “You were only like sixteen right?”

“Yeah, almost seventeen. You were such a bad influence.”

“Hey, I just brought the booze. I didn’t make you drink. Anyway, we were all playing truth or dare remember?”

“Oh God yeah. I remember! That’s when Derek kissed me because I fessed up to never having been kissed!”

Shawn’s face falls. “It wasn’t Derek.”

“What? Yes it was. Derek was sitting next to me and you were over by Kelsey and Kaley and they were all over you because you had just gotten that tattoo on your forearm.”

“Yeah but when Derek got up to piss or something I came over and grabbed the bottle and sat down. And why do you remember that the girls were all over me? You jealous?”

“Fuck no.” You roll your eyes. You were at the time of course. “And I didn’t realize you came over.”

“Yeah I came over and we started truth or dare. You confessed to never having been kissed and like an idiot I said I’d fix that and you said okay and I kissed you. I shouldn’t have because you were really out of it and that was no way to have a first kiss.”

“I-” you shake your head. “That makes sense actually. Because I asked Derek about it a few weeks later and he acted like he had no idea what I was talking about. I guess it wasn’t acting.”

“Yeah so…”

“So…now what?”

“We can get in the lake? Go for a swim? I’m not even remotely tired yet.”

“You’re out of your mind.” You look over at the calm waters of the lake in the cool evening air. “It’s too chilly for swimming. It’s nearly November.”

“Nah.” Shawn stands up and pulls his shirt over his head.  

“No, oh my God. You are not going out there!”

Shawn smirks. “The hell I ain’t. Are you coming with? Or are you a little chicken shit?”

“I am not a chicken shit!”

He pulls his belt off and tosses it aside, going for the fly of his jeans and getting them ready to push down. “Prove it.”

“No! I’m not getting in that water.”

“Chicken.” He tugs his jeans off and heads for the lake. His big form is illuminated by the soft moonlight and you can’t help but stare. How was it that he looked good in the dark? How was that a thing?

You follow him down to the dock and stand there with your arms crossed as he lowers himself onto the wood slats. “Go on, get in.”

He sticks his feet in. “Oh yeah, that’s chilly.”

“You aren’t gonna do it. Drop the tough guy act.”

“Oh I’m gonna do it.”

You roll your eyes and turn to go back to the cabin. “I’m going back to the campfire. If you need me I’ll be-”

Your foot catches a loose plank and suddenly you’re not on your feet and all you can see is darkness followed by cool water flooding into your nose and seeping into your bones. You surface, body cold as hell and you look around for Shawn.

“Are you okay?!”

You whip around, desperately treading water to stay afloat. “What the fuck am I supposed to wear to bed now?” You shout, as it’s the only thing that comes to mind after you register that you aren’t dying.

“I have spare clothes in my pack on the bike.” Shawn says as he gets closer. “I’m more worried about you. Are you okay? What happened?”

“One minute I was on the dock and then I tripped and here I am!”

Shawn gets closer and you grab on to his arm. “Easy, damn you’re gonna leave bruises.”

“I can’t stand up.” You kick your legs tiredly. You hadn’t been swimming in ages, you were not cut out for it. “It’s too deep.”

“Oh. Fuck.” Shawn grabs on to you and you float against him. He’s not moving which means he’s just standing on the bottom of the lake where it’s shallower. Must be nice.

“Can we just get out? It’s cold.”

“Yeah. Hold on to me.”

You wrap your legs around his waist and he puts one arm around your back as he heads for the shore. The water gets lower and lower as Shawn walks up the sandy shore line until you’re fully up on the land. He doesn’t put you down though, no, he just carries you effortlessly to the campfire.

“I’m f-freezing.” You double over in front of the fire and Shawn goes to his bike. He returns with a pair of boxers and a tank top.

“This Is all I have. Let’s go in and get you out of these clothes. I’m sure there’s a blanket in the cabin.”

The next hour or so you spend curled into Shawn while wearing his boxers and tank top with his leather jacket around you. The cabin had no blankets and only a large fold out camping cot to sleep on. It was no surprise though, the cabins are basically just a rustic shelter from the elements with a working sink and toilet.  

“I’m sorry I brought you out here.” Shawn says softly, petting your hair back. “You must be miserable.”

“No. It’s been an adventure.” You curl into his chest and he presses as closes as he can for you to get warm. “I know it sucks that I fell in and I’m cold now but it’s not your fault. You were just trying to get me to have some fun, do something totally different.”

“You’re really not mad?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Can I ask something totally unrelated?”

“Sure.”

“You said you don’t date because of me and other reasons. What’s the other reasons?”

You close your eyes and sigh softly. “I just don’t like dating to be honest. I’m over playing games with people. Phone tag, social media prowling, do you like me or don’t you? Hook up or more? I just want something stable, something permanent.”

“Something serious.”

“Yes. Exactly. Something serious. I’m ready to settle down, maybe have a kid before I’m too old.”

Shawn squeezes you tight. “I get that. I think I’m at that point too, wanting something serious that is.”

“Yeah.” You yawn. “Maybe someday we’ll figure it out.”

He chuckles and settles his hand in your hair. “Maybe.”

_____________________

A week has passed since the camping trip and you and Shawn have been spending a lot more time together. The two of you regularly eat dinner together, make each other breakfast and even go on jogs sometimes. So the night that some heavy storms roll in, you aren’t surprised that Shawn joins you on the couch when you can’t sleep.

“How’s it going?”

“Fine?” You look over at him and he puts his arm around your shoulders. “I just can’t sleep.”

“Are you still afraid of storms?”

“I’m not afraid.” You mumble, turning up the TV over the sound of thunder rumbling outside.

Shawn chuckles. “You’re definitely a little afraid of storms.”

“I just don’t like all the noise.”

“Uh huh.”

You lay your head on his shoulder and he runs his hand through your hair. The two of you sit in silence, watching the baking show rerun on TV.

“What’s it like?” You ask suddenly, brain wandering off and thinking about Shawn’s piercings.

“Hmm?”

“Your lip ring. Doesn’t it bother you when you talk or eat?”

“Not really.”

“No? I’d think it’d get in the way.”

Shawn turns your head to look at him and you swallow hard. “You want to know what it feels like, don’t you?”

“What? No?”

“Mmhmm. You were thinking about how it’d feel against your lips.” He leans in and you let out a little whimper. “You like to stare at my lips don’t you?”

“N-no.” You look down, his nose ring the only thing you can see he is so close. “I wasn’t…I don’t…”

Shawn presses his lips to yours and you close your eyes, balling your hands in the comforter on your lap. He pulls back just enough to talk. “Did it feel weird?”

You shake your head.

“Want me to do it again?”

You nod.

He leans back in and kisses you again, this time with a little more force. His hand finds its way into your hair and he licks at your lip. You give in and let him explore your mouth. He’s eager, tasting you and teasing his tongue against yours. He pulls your lip between his teeth you feel his lip ring bump against your bottom right fang tooth as he goes back in to stroke your tongue with his and you pull back.

“What’s wrong?” He purrs, eyes half lidded as he chases your lips with little barely touching kisses and nips.

“We can’t be doing this.”

“Says who?”

“Me. You’re…you’re not the type of guy I want to get involved with. I told you I’m looking for something serious.”

Shawn twists his fingers around in your hair, mouth still only centimeters from yours. “And I told you I am too. I’ll be your good boy.” He breathes into your mouth and bumps his nose with yours, eyes pleading. “Give me a chance?”

“I know you Shawn.”

“And I know you.” He presses his forehead to yours. “Please?”

“I’ll think about it.”

Shawn grins and toys with his lip ring with his tongue. “I’m gonna be a such a good boy for you. Just you wait.”

_____________________

Tuesday morning you find yourself in the backroom of the library where you work. Usually you work on the main floor but today you’re in the archives with some of the restoration crew. Your job is fairly simple, clean, dust, sort. That’s all. It’s extremely important though. Without a librarian like you, books would be everywhere and no one would be able to find anything.

You stand before one of the large metal shelves, returning books on ancient pharaohs that some researcher was using for his work. Some of the books are so old they have to be stored in air tight bags after each use to prevent further deterioration.

To your left you see something move. Just out of the corner of your eyes, a quick flash of darkness and then it’s gone. You figure it’s probably Kate looking for something.

You look back down at the book in your hands and sigh. Secrets of the Ancient Tomb of Cleopatra. You flip it open and suddenly there are hands covering your eyes.  

“Hello?!” You reach back, patting at the body behind you.

“Guess who,” Shawn purrs in your ear and you turn around.

“What’re you doing in here?!”

“Macy let me in.” He smirks. “I just gave her a smile and she was like putty in my hands.”

“Of course you did. Why are you here?”

He leans against the shelf opposite you. “I brought you some lunch.”

“You… brought me lunch?”

“Your favorite.” He grins. “Chicken parmesan from Alfredo’s Kitchen.”

You almost start drooling at the thought of it. It was seriously the best thing you had ever eaten but it was so expensive you rarely got to eat there. “You shouldn’t have.”

“Ah, c'mon.” He steps forward and cups your face in his hands. “It’s nice to get spoiled now and then.”

“You’re trying to sway me.” You narrow your eyes. “You’re buttering me up.”

“Maybe just a teensy bit?” He plays with his lip ring and you stare at it. “I don’t need to butter you up too much though do I?”

“Oh shut up.” You shove him back and he laughs. “Where’s this lunch then?”

“Up front with Macy.” He points to the doors to the main floor of the library. “And there’s another thing. Just something for you.”

You narrow your eyes and head for doors. He follows you out but when you get to the front desk to turn and say something he’s gone. On the desk there is a small floral arrangement of pink roses and little white flowers. The son of a bitch was playing with your heart strings now. He knew pink roses were your favorite, god, he was infuriating.

“You’re so lucky.” Macy sighs, face in the roses. “I wish I had a man like that.”

“He’s not my man.” You grab the take out box of food from Macy’s outstretched hands. “He’s…he’s complicated.”

“It always is with those types.”

“Macy.”

She laughs and sinks down in her chair. “Can I keep the roses on the desk?”

“Sure. I’m going to lunch.”

“I’ll let Kate know. Have fun!”

_____________________

“Pink roses huh?” You ask yourself as you open the front door carrying your vase of roses. Shawn was something else.

“Hey honey,” Shawn purrs as you walk into the kitchen. It’s smells incredible, like sauteed garlic and herbs.

“Are you seriously cooking dinner for me? And don’t call me honey.”

Shawn walks around the kitchen island and takes the roses, setting them aside before taking your hands in his. He’s got his glasses on, hair a mess, and he’s wearing your pink cat printed apron. It’s too cute.

“I’m making dinner for both of us, not just you.”

“Shawn. You don’t need to do all this just to get me to give you a chance.”

“You don’t like good boy Shawn?”

You roll your eyes. “I didn’t fall for good boy Shawn.”

His whole demeanor changes and he drops the good boy act, walking you back against the counter. “You fell for me huh?” He bites his lip as he looks you over. “You made your decision a long time ago, didn’t you?”

“I didn’t.”

“You did. Don’t lie, I know you.” He runs his hand up your side. “You’ve wanted me since you were a teenager.”

“Shut up.” You mumble, looking down but he tilts your chin up. “You’re the worst.”

He chuckles and leans in, nose bumping yours. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

You swallow thickly. He’s not. You’ve had it bad for him since you were about fourteen years old. He had it all. The looks, the attitude, an air of mystery and a bad boy reputation. He was exactly the kind of guy you didn’t need, but you wanted so bad. You’ve had it with good boys.

You run your hand up his tattoo covered arm and over his shoulder. “I…I wanna take it slow if we do this.”

“Yes ma'am.” He grins, leaning in and you pull your head back.

“I mean it.”

“I know. You call the shots.”

“Good. And one more thing-”

“You talk too much.” He grabs the hair at the base of your neck and brings you in for a heated kiss. It’s just as good if not better than the first one and he has you whimpering for him. Never did you think you would be coming undone in the hands of the one man you pined after forever.

______________________

Friday you get home early, walk into the house and drop your purse by the door. Shawn is home for sure, his boots are in the shoe tray. It’s unusual he’d be home before you, especially since you’re home early as it is.

“Shawn?” You call out as you wander toward the living room. “Did you come home ea-”

You get to the entryway of the kitchen to the living room and see Shawn. He’s pacing the living room and has his phone up to his ear.

“I can’t do that.” He stops and stares at the blank tv. “You know why I can’t.”

You lean against the wall and eavesdrop. It sounds like a pretty serious call.

“Yeah I remember. I’m not stopping by.” He starts pacing again. “You know why I don’t want to. It’ll look bad and I’m not about that anymore. I’m serious.”

You raise your eyebrows. What was going to look bad?

“Stacy, I know we talked about this.” He drops his voice. “I’m not doing that anymore. That’s final. We broke up a year ago, let it go. I’m moving on.” He shakes his head. “Yes I’m with her. No, you’re not going to change my mind.”

You feel a wave of jealousy washes over you and churn your stomach. He was on the phone with an ex girlfriend and it definitely sounds like she’s trying to get him to come over for a booty call. You don’t really want to hear anymore and you walk across the living room to go to your room.

Shawn turns as you cross the living room and calls out to you. You ignore him and go to your room, closing the door.

“Hey,” Shawn pushes your door open a minute later and you turn to face him.

“What?”

“I’m gonna go out for a few minutes. Are you alright? You seemed pissed or something.”

“I’m fine.” You quip. You can’t believe he’s actually going to go over to her house when he just said he wasn’t going to. Wow. Just wow. Your heart hurts, you thought he was better than this.

“What’s your problem?”

You cross your arms and let out a disgusted laugh. “Nothing.”

He crosses the room and stares you down. “No. What’s your problem?”

“Why would I have a problem? Go do whatever you’re going to do.”

“Oh cut the shit. You were listening to me weren’t you?”

You shrug. “I heard you on the phone. I dunno what’s going on.”

Shawn crosses his arms. “I’m not going over to Stacy’s if that’s what you think.”

“Okay? Not like I care. You’re an adult.”

“Oh my God you’re infuriating.” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Let me clear the air here. Stacy and I used to be together. We broke up. Then it became this weird booty call thing but I am done with that. I’m done. I don’t want you to think I’m gonna sleep around while I’m interested in you. I’m not going to her place, I’m going to meet Casey and help him with his truck. Stacy called out of the blue as I was getting ready to leave, I swear I am not going anywhere near her.”

“Oh…I just…” You look down, ashamed you thought he would do that sort of thing when he’s been pursuing you for months now. God you look like a dick.

“Yeah. That’s what I thought.” He pockets his phone. “You really think I’d do that? I want to be with you. I swear.”

“I’m sorry.” You turn and look away, guilty for feeling like he’d do something like that. He comes up behind you, running his hands down your shoulders. He kisses the back of your neck and you feel weak in the knees.

“I only want you.” He holds your hips. “You’re all I think about.” He kisses across your shoulder.

“I must seem like a bitch.” You sigh. “We aren’t even together and I’m acting jealous and jumping to conclusions and making you out to be a jerk when you’re not.”

Shawn wraps his arms around you and pulls you against him, his tattooed arm heavy across your chest. “Insecurity is a bitch, and it’s okay, I forgive you. Four years ago I was much different and I can understand your hesitations. I’m trying to be better now because I want better. “

“I’m still sorry.”

He rubs your shoulder lovingly “And for the record, we’re not together yet,” he purrs, biting at your ear. “Not until you decide on what you want.”

“Yeah.” You lay your hands over his arm. “I’m kind of a tease aren’t I?”

“The best kind, so I don’t mind.” He kisses your jaw and you lean your head against him. “I have to go meet up with Casey now. I’ll talk to you later honey.”

“Don’t call me honey.”

He steps away and pauses in the doorway. “Sorry, you’re right. Not honey. I meant Princess.”

“Shawn!” You throw a pillow at him.

“Ugh! You’re right.” He grins and you narrow your eyes. “Babygirl.”

“GET OUT!”

He walks away cackling and you sink on to the bed. He is actually going to kill you with the pet names.

______________________

“Get up, I’m taking you somewhere.”

You roll over and look at the shirtless body on the bed beside you. God. He looks insanely hot. Why did he exist? How?

“I’m sleeping in.”

“Nope.” He pulls your blanket down and you try to grab it back. “Get up and shower. I’m taking you somewhere and it’s a surprise.”

“But it’s my birthday, I don’t want to go anywhere yet.”

Shawn growls and crawls over you, pinning you to the bed. Your heart picks up and your eyes go wide. He’s so big, so, so big. “Get up.”

“Or else what?”

He leans in close and you flick your tongue out against his lip ring to surprise him. He presses his mouth to yours and you break your arm free of his hold to grip his hair, pulling harshly and making him bite your lip. You moan into his mouth and he rolls his hips down against you as you bite back.

“As much as I’d kill to take this further, we actually need to leave.”

You stare at him, lips throbbing and damp. He plays with his tongue ring absently and you wanna kiss him again. “It’s my birthday. Can’t we do what I want?”

“Yes, but I actually have an appointment we need to be at in half an hour.”

“An appointment? What is this surprise?”

Shawn pushes up and kneels, straddling your hips. He’s obviously half hard and it’s very visible against his tight black boxer briefs. He’s obviously not shy about it either as he palms over it while talking. “It’s a surprise. Hurry up and get dressed.” He says and crawls off your bed, heading to his room to get dressed as well.  

Half an hour later and Shawn is walking you into a building, guiding you by your hands since as soon you left the house he insisted you wear a blindfold. Honestly you had no idea what his surprise could be until you step into the doors and hear a very familiar whirring noise.  

You push up the blind fold and you’re standing in the entryway to a tattoo and body piercing shop.

“No.”

“Oh come on. I haven’t even said what we’re doing!”

“No! Shawn! I’m not doing anything here.”

He rubs his thumbs over the backs of your hands in his. “You always said you wanted a rose tattoo. A pretty pink rose.”

“You…”

You huff. Of course he would remember the conversation he had with you after getting his first tattoo when you were sixteen. You said you’d get a rose one day, right on your back shoulder area. God. You were sixteen and dumb but you did still want it. “You little shit.”

“Come on.” He grins, biting his lip. “Be a bad girl for one hour.”

“I-” you look around the shop and it’s so nice. You’d feel horrible if you walked out and wasted the appointment Shawn set up. “You’re a bad influence.”

“I’m the best influence, and I’m paying.” He pulls you in and puts his arm around your shoulders. “Come on, I set you up with Olivia. She’s incredible.”

Ten minutes into your tattoo and you’re really feeling it. You were told once that the pain gets numb and becomes more annoying than anything else. That isn’t the case. Maybe you’re a weenie to pain. Maybe you are too nervous and it’s all in your head. Either way you’re crying and Shawn has just sat down in front of you.

“You okay?” Shawn asks softly, taking your hands.

You’re sitting facing the back of the chair, arms hung over the backs of the armrests and your chin on the headrest.

“It hurts.” You take a deep breath as Olivia wipes some blood off your shoulder. “I know it’s almost done though.”

“It’s not numb? Is it like raw feeling?”

“It’s more like I can feel everything and it’s like I’m getting poked by a bunch of thumb tacks. I think I’m focusing on it too much.”

Shawn leans over and Olivia pauses. “It’s beautiful honey.”

“Don’t call me honey.” You grit your teeth and he leans in, pressing his forehead against yours.

“You’re doing so good.” He smiles and you can’t help but smile back. Though you’re sure it’s more like a grimace. “I’m so proud of you. My bad girl, getting her first tattoo.”

“Only, tattoo.”

“That’s what I thought too.” He leans back as someone walks over. You turn and look at a guy in all black with a bunch of facial piercings.  

“I’m ready when you are.”

“Are you okay alone?” Shawn asks, cupping your face. “I can stay.”

“I’m fine. She’s almost done.”

Shawn pecks your lips and stands up. “Alright Casey, let’s do it.”

“Wait, what are you doing?”

“You’ll see.” He grins and Casey chuckles.

The two of them walk away and you watch them disappear into another sectioned off station. You’re suddenly more focused on Shawn then you are on your back. Before you know it Olivia is finished and bandaging you up.  

______________________

Your birthday party is insane. Somehow Shawn got together with Kate and Macy from work along with a few other friends and they rented a private room at the club. You’ve been drinking and celebrating and dancing for hours now and finally you’re ready to rest.

You see the perfect seat. A black denim clad lap calling your name. You walk over and stand in front of Shawn. He holds your hips and smiles. “I need a seat.”

“I’ve got one right here.” He glances down and you straddle him, hiking your dress up enough to sit comfortably.

“How are you feeling?”

“Good. Happy.”

Shawn runs his hands up your sides and back down over your hips. His eyes have that hungry look you’ve seen a few times since he moved in. There was no doubt he was ready for that green light from you.

“Have you had any cake yet?”

“No.” You look over at a slice sitting next to you on the table. It was your favorite. Chocolate cake with whip cream frosting. “I should probably eat something.”

“Let me help you.” Shawn cuts a piece with his fork and holds it up for you. You bite the cake and he grins big. “More?”

“Mmmhmm.”

Shawn gives you bite after bite until you finish the slice. It’s oddly intimate, as if sitting on his lap wasn’t enough. “You got some frosting on your lip.”

You lick your lips and he shakes his head.

“Let me.”

He leans in and licks the corner of your mouth as he kisses you. The two of you make out lazily, hands in each other’s hair as you swallow the taste of each other’s kisses. Sweet, bitter, cinnamon and cream. Everything you’ve been doing shots of and everything he’s been sipping.

You roll your hips against him and he groans, teeth closed around your lip. You do it again and his head falls back.

“Are you giving me a lap dance?”

“Am I?” You put your arms on his shoulders and look down at his lolling head. You roll your body against his and he lets out another groan. He sure is sensitive tonight. “Tell me what you want.”

“You,” he rasps, fingers digging into your hips. “We need to get out of here.”

You lean in and press your lips to his ear. “Isn’t that a little bit wrong? The birthday girl leaving her own party?”

“Mmm, yeah. Ditching to fuck the bad boy. Such a bad girl.”

“That’s what you like right?” You giggle against his ear and he slides his hands over your ass, fingers toying with the thin lace trim of your panties.

“I also like sweet,” he bumps your jaw with his nose. “Good girls.” He kisses down your throat and you tilt your head back. “Who do just what I say.”

You let out a shuddery moan and he bites at your collar bones.

“Are you gonna be my good girl?”

“Y-yeah.”

“We should get going then.”

_____________________

You lay back and stare up at Shawn on the bed. He’s on his knees in front of you pulling his shirt off.  You’re already stripped down, a result of his skilled hands and urge to please, and you’ve got bites down your chest and stomach from him as well.  

Shawn tosses his shirt aside and your eyes go wide. He’s fit. That’s nothing new. But the little metal piece of jewelry in his nipple is new. Very new.  

“You are such a liar.” You smirk, sitting up in front of him. “You said you got a touch up today.”

He grins and bites his lip. “You like it?”

You run your hand up his chest and brush against the piercing gently with your thumb. He hisses and moans softly, the site is still very tender. “I’m not gonna lie, it’s hot. But why?”

“Lost a bet with Casey.” He moans again as you brush the little silver bar. “Fuck, you gotta go easy on me.”

You lean in and kiss his chest a few times around his pec. He watches you, hand in your hair as you flick your tongue out and barely touch the tender skin. That’s it for him.

He guides you back, crawling over you and taking your mouth with his. He’s careful of your back, making sure you’re comfortable as he explores your mouth, jaw, neck.  You’re so hot and turned on, you can’t get enough of him. You run your hands up his back, scratching gently as he rolls his hips against you.

“Shawn,” you arch up against him as he slides his hand between your legs. “Please.”

He lets out a little growl of pleasure as he teases you, mouth on your neck, driving you wild. “Easy honey,” he purrs against your ear. “I’m wanna take my time with you. It is your birthday after all.”

_____________________

Two months later

“God I’m so tired of this.”

You look over from the books you’re sorting and Macy is leant against the shelf in front of you. She looks like she’s in pain. “Macy? Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I’ve got horrible cramps this period.” She takes a deep breath. “Don’t you hate that?”

“Yeah.” You chuckle and go back to your sorting. Actually. You don’t remember your last period. “What’s today?”

“The twentieth?”

You stand up and place your books on the cart. “I’m going to take a lunch.”

Macy looks at you funny. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Just hungry.” You walk out of the archives and across the main floor of the library. You were far from hungry. You were about to be sick.

The second you get home you dig into the medicine cabinet. There’s a pregnancy test in there from your old roommate and you take it out with shaking hands. You can’t remember your last period, or the one before that. The night of your birthday you can’t remember if you used protection. You have every time since, for sure. But that first night. You just can’t remember.

You hear the front door open and Shawn calls out your name. You had texted him, asking him to come home for lunch. He knows something is wrong because you never ask him to leave work.

“Honey?” He knocks on the bathroom door and you wash your hands, leaving the little white test stick on the counter as you open the door.

“Shawn…”

“What’s wrong?” He holds your face, checking over every inch of you. “Are you hurt? What ha-” He’s seen it. The stick on the counter.  

“We fucked up.”

“What…” He looks from you to the counter and back three times. “What?”

“Two lines.” You pull away and grab the test, holding it up for him to see.

Shawn takes the test with shaky hands and looks at the two very bright pink lines in the indicator window. “You’re pregnant.”

“At least two months, since my birthday. I can still go and-”

“I’m gonna be a dad.” Shawn says softly. He tosses the test at the counter and grabs your hips. “I’m going to be a dad!”

“What?” You shake your head. “You’re excited? This isn’t supposed to happen, we fucked up. This…I-”

Shawn smiles. “You said you wanted a kid. You said you wanted something serious, to settle down, right?”

“Y-yeah but I…we just…So soon?”

He cups your cheeks and stares at you lovingly. “I’m here for you. Whatever you decide. I’m ready. I’m ready to go all in if you are. I’m ready for a white picket fence with a dog in the yard and a baby on the way. We’re halfway there, we already have the house and the white picket fence.”

You holds his arms and he trembles, tears in his eyes. “You’re sure?”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my whole life. We’ve known each other for years, I know we just got together recently, but I think this is how it’s supposed to be.” He leans in and bumps his nose with yours. “I’ve never been happier then I have been the last two months and I can’t see myself with anyone else.”

You laugh softly, and he kisses you.

“I love you.” He kisses again. “I love you and I want to marry you and have babies with you and spend every damn day with you.”

You wrap your arms around him and he holds your head to his chest. “I love you Shawn.” You close your eyes. “I love you more than anything.”

“I love you too honey.” He kisses the top of your head. “I can’t wait to start my life with you.”

“I think you already have.”

“Yeah.” He chuckles. “And I couldn’t ask for more.”

End

——-

Thank you so much for reading! Please reblog if you enjoyed it :) -A

*****Note: none of my works should be posted anywhere outside of my linked accounts. I do not give permission to repost with or without credit to my accounts. Please notify me of any reposted fics.*****

[whumpqin]

Perfect the Way You Are

Next official chapter installment! This one was a little more difficult to write than I thought, but I pushed through and wrote it. This one’s kind of rough, heed the warnings!

Elisha tag! @faewhump @imagination1reality0

CW: Pet whump, creepy/intimate whumper, noncon touching (non sexual), dehumanization, knifes, torture used as punishment, fantasy racism, victim blaming, mentions of abduction, mentions of broken bones, lotta icky language in here by the whumper

Word count: 2,243

The knife slid into his stomach, cool metal biting against his warm, inflamed skin. Elisha keened, swallowing thickly against the scream that threatened the escape from his lungs.

“You’re perfect, you know that?” the devil’s voice whispered above him. A constant reminder of the hell he was in. “Jeremiah was right about one thing, you do take pain well. You take everything so damn well. Sometimes I wonder what goes on in that fiery head of yours that makes you so reserved.”

“Pl-please… it, it hurts…” A hand was placed on the side of his face, smearing his own blood against him. 

“Shh, I know, pet.” Aridai pulled the blade out, finally letting him breathe without worry of further injury. That’s what they had told him to do, breathe. “It’s supposed to hurt. Now… recite your rules for me while I work on this next bit.”

This was the worst day of his life.

He hadn’t expected it to get any better, of course. They had abducted him. People who do that generally don’t have good intentions. But, for the most part, they left him alone in the dark to either starve or go crazy from the lack of human interaction and stimulus.

Today, Aridai clearly had other intentions. They had wanted a “de-stress” session, and after Elisha had affirmed his false name and his new rules they had gotten right to work cutting off of his shirt and sinking that knife into wherever they felt necessary. Even with the permission to use his voice, no amount of begging aided him against Aridai’s cruelty. Everything went unheard and there was no mercy granted.

“O-one. My, my Masters should, hnnk! Should always be ah, ad-addressed as Ma-Master..!” Elisha’s voice cut off in a shrill cry, unable to keep quiet any longer as Aridai’s knife dipped into his skin again. Terrified tears slipped from the corners of his eyes freely.

Elisha was humiliated at first when he was exposed. Embarrassed that someone else saw his thin frame besides the plants that sat next to his mirror back home. He had always been a private person, and this was just a violation of the boundaries he had put in place for a reason.

It was clear that Aridai had no boundaries. None besides the rules they set for everyone but themselves; a free spirit that rose above the masses of normal folk. 

“Good boy. You’re being so good for me,” they said, pleasantly smiling as if Elisha couldn’t see the metaphorical horns peeking from underneath their cardboard halo. “Keep going, Caleb.”

Two, hnk!” He squeezed his eyes shut as a long draw of the knife cut across his chest, continuing the pattern that only Aridai could see the product of. Like he was some carving of theirs. “Nev-never, hh, question your, nn, m-my Masters.”

Aridai had been angry with him. Elisha’s fear was so intense that he couldn’t stop himself when he tried to squirm out of their grasp, thrashing his tail around in unspoken anxiety. It was hard not to be afraid of someone approaching you with a knife, especially when your hands were tied behind your back and you were chained to a wall.

They had dragged him to the ground and straddled him, effectively preventing him from being able to pull away anymore. Then, Elisha had to face their ire, and he quickly learned that the only thing worse than Aridai was their vicious temper.

“Th-three. Do wha-what I’m, hnn, told, regard… regardless of the- ah, consequences..!” He gazed up to Aridai, pleading, and they only watched him with satisfaction.

“Good. That’s one you’re still working on, isn’t it?” They asked, a light tilt to their head. “Do you feel bad for being mean to me?”

“Ye-yes..! Yes, I do, please, I’m sorry! I’m sorry, I won’t pull away again, I won’t, I won’t..!” Bloodied hands found their way to his face again, this time with a thumb resting over his lips.

“No, you won’t, will you? You’ll learn to know better than to pull away from your Master. And you can stop that mumbling, now.” The thumb rubbed across his lips, gently, inviting for all the wrong reasons.

There was nothing that would provoke a Cambion’s instincts better than to wave a hand in front of their face. It was like asking them to bite you, an instinct whose origin was long forgotten to the old days. It was a lesson that Elisha remembered learning from his mother when he was young and naive and definitely not prepared for a world like this.

Everyone, who was smart, knew this. But most humans who knew well to avoid such things often spread rumors about the dangers of a Cambion’s bite. Elisha knew all it did was break the skin and draw blood, but everyone feared that their devilish nature would seep into them like a venom, tainting their bloodline and cursing their children. Like they were a wild animal.

What Aridai was doing was dangerous, but it was also a challenge. They were daring Elisha to bite, to go against his Master. They were waiting for another slip up.

Instead, Elisha shivered from the cold, wounds weeping blood as he stared up at them like an injured puppy. He merely swallowed, the only giveaway that he was thinking of anything at all, and made no move besides the occasional flick of his gaze as Aridai’s leg shifted. 

Finally, they smiled. “You’re so strange, Caleb. Though I guess that is the appeal.” Aridai’s hand withdrew and instead braced against his chest, preparing another series of cuts to complete their “carving”.

“Wha-what does..?” Elisha clamped his mouth shut, unsure if that was considered “questioning his Masters” or not. He didn’t want to chance it after he had already made them so angry.

“What? What was that? Did you say something to me?” Their gaze landed on Elisha, and he couldn’t tell if their expression was full of curiosity or fury. He couldn’t tell anything about them anymore. “Go on. I’m listening.”

“I-I’m sorry, I ju-just…” Elisha’s gaze frantically searched for something so that he could give them an excuse, something that would make them less angry. But his mind was already burning from the pain, as he quickly realized that he was out of options when Aridai laid the knife on a portion of his skin. “I-I don’t, don’t know what-what you mean…”

“What I mean? Oh! You mean your appeal? What makes you so interesting?” When Elisha nodded nervously, they laughed. Aridai was always laughing for some reason or another. “Oh Caleb, don’t sell yourself so short. You were like a little diamond in the rough.” A pause, a little light flickering on in their head. “I’m gonna call you that now. But, anyway, just a moment.”

They carefully carved more sections into his skin, finishing their work. This next part was more quick than the others, and Elisha was able to take some strange comfort in that. When Aridai pulled away they took some fabric out of their pocket and pressed on his wounds, and he felt parts of his ribs shift in a way they definitely weren’t supposed to. He keened, but he didn’t move. He wasn’t allowed to.

“Had to finish before I lost the image in my head. Now we can have a chat. So! I guess… you’re asking why you of all the easy pickings of the world, huh?” They tilted their head as Elisha nodded with a whine. “Way to be nice to people, Caleb.” The guilt was immediate, and added a further tightness to his chest that he didn’t think possible. “Poor little diamond… so lost on why it won the lottery when it picked stupid numbers on purpose, huh?”

What does that even mean? Elisha’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Hm… Too ambiguous for you? Alright, lemme dumb it down for you.” Aridai learned close, uncomfortably so, to Elisha face. They used their free hand to brace themselves beside his head. “You were perfect, Caleb. You don’t even realize how long it took for us to find someone as perfect as you. No friends, no family, no one to look for you when you disappeared. When we were watching you, you seemed so much different than other Cambion. They tend to be the talk of the town, y’know? People notice when they leave, because they’re so damned relieved that they’re gone.. But you…” They shifted, removing their hand from the fabric to touch his face again. He resisted the instinct to pull away like he had stupidly done before. 

“Absolutely no one would miss you when you were gone, besides the people who would want money from you.”

Elisha swallowed, trying to not let the immense weight of Aridai’s words crush him.

“Now, I’ve met a fair amount of Cambion. They’re feisty creatures, and way too stubborn for their own good. But you’re different than your kind, Caleb. You’re tamed.” Aridai ruffled his hair, staining it with blood. “You’re so nice and reclusive. Not at all like all the other ones I’ve cut up before.”

A flicker of fear flashed in Elisha’s eyes as he fought to breathe. They had seen Cambion before? Did they kill them?

They tilted their head to the other side. “I guess… in thinking about why you were taken… I guess you were just perfect the way you were. You were practically begging to be taken.” Aridai finally leaned away, pulling the bloodied fabric from his chest. “Jeremiah said it was all an act. Fake, or something. But I can tell. You try too hard to be pretending. You actually think all that nice and kind bullshit makes a difference in the end..”

He felt sick. Elisha didn’t want to believe that what they were saying was right. It all felt wrong.

This wasn’t his fault. There was no way that they were looking for someone like him. He was just in the wrong place, at the wrong time, and they took him. 

Elisha had been trying to change. He had to believe that it was worth it.

“S-someone… they-they have to. Some-someone will look,” he argued quietly, voice wavering from tears unshed. “It’s, it’s the right thing to… to do.”

Aridai laughed again, plenty amused. “Who’s going to look for you, Caleb? Name someone for me.”

He tried to search his mind. His mother? No… he hadn’t talked to her in years. Elisha couldn’t remember the last time he talked to his neighbors… and the only person he carried a conversation with outside of plant life was the grocery clerk at his local store when he craved some sort of interaction from people.

“My, my landlord, sh-she’ll know I’m, I’m missing, she’ll call the, um, the police.” Elisha felt confident in that regard. The police took care of things. They found lost people and brought them home to their families.

“What do you think the police are going to do? Track you down, bring you back home? Let you live comfortably in your house again and lock up the poor, bad people who did this to you?” Aridai’s eyebrows upturned in mock pity. “I’ve been skating underneath their radar for years. They’ll give up after a month or so, and mark you down as another cold case that never gets solved. That is, if they give a Cambion like you the time of day.”

They moved, finally getting off of him and settling into a crouch next to them. Elisha tried to look away, he didn’t want to see their face anymore, but Aridai reached forward and forced their eyes to meet.

“If you had told anyone about yourself, then maybe. Maybe you would have a chance.” They grinned, sinister and cold. “Face it, Caleb. No one is going to look for you, because you’re a nobody. And you only have yourself to blame for that.”

The tears that threatened to fall finally made food on their claim. Elisha gasped, trying to force down the inner hurt that he felt, but he knew that bits floated to the surface. He bit his lower lip hard enough to draw blood, but the taste wasn’t enough to get him to stop.

It felt like Aridai had cut them with broken bits of glass, mentally and physically. He wanted to curl up in a ball of shame but he couldn’t even move to get away, even if he was allowed to. Don’t break down in front of them. Don’t do it. Don’t show weakness.

For once, he agreed with his instincts.

It was a blessing when Aridai finally stood up. “I think I’m done here. This was really fun, Caleb. Maybe we’ll shape you up enough to participate, hm?” They let out another series of lighthearted chuckles, and the sound was like nails on a chalkboard. “I’ll send in Jeremiah to clean you up. Honestly…” Aridai held up both hands, which were covered in Elisha’s own blood. “We’re both a pretty mess.”

They quickly retrieved their implements, looking him over one last time, before ascending the stairs to the rest of the house. The top of the basement shut with a loud slam, and he caught the sound of a lock as it clicked into place.

In the dark, Elisha finally let out the breath he didn’t realize he was holding, and felt the cracks underneath his skin that were beginning to show deepen.

[house-of-tykayl]

cystar tho (headcanons)

imagine

cyborg and starfire are the cuddliest couple ever. the PDA is incredible. star will perch on his shoulders like he’s a climbing post/bird perch and generally just drape herself all over him bc he’s got a lot of surface area and she wants comfy. and cy will just grab her out of midair for huggles before letting her float away again like a balloon headed straight for the atmosphere. star will float higher when she wants to look over his shoulder at something (bc hes the only titan taller than her) and sometimes cy will just reach up and touch her waist and lead her around in the air like that while they chat

the other titans support them, but are simultaneously disgusted by the excessive amount of PDA. cy sometimes milks star’s affection to troll everyone, especially at the breakfast table. “hey star i havent had my morning kiss today” “oh apologies” “do that long tongue thingy again babe” “if you two dont let me eat my waffles in peace for just ONE morning i will open a portal to the seventh circle of hell and chuck the both of you inside”

star is living for the unabashed affection bc cyborg has no qualms about being proud boyfriend in public. like he’ll wrap an arm around her and go “hey star’s my girlfriend :)” and the grocery store clerk’s like “we know, that’ll be $15.99″ and star’s just beaming, holding the plastic bags full of snacks and unorthodox food combinations

if cy’s generous with the lovin wait till you see star lmao. “you are looking most beautiful today!” she keeps saying shit literally no one else will say, either (possibly) coz of the robot thing or just coz starfire’s being starfire, and cyborg’s just like *clutches_chest.jpeg* because she a lil weirdo but she makes him feel normal and appreciated and that he’s great the way he is, that he’s desired even if a lot of him isn’t organic anymore. like yes!! my boyfriend is comprised of 80% robotic parts!! he is extremely strong and the “cool”!!! is he not absolutely wonderful???

ok but starfire can almost never get enough touching, and cyborg’s just like aight *picks her up and carries her around on his arm for an hour* and she’ll just be giddy the entire time

more under the cut

star doesnt have a lot of preconceived notions of what a normal human relationship is, outside of things she sees on TV and robin’s incomprehensible push-pulling over the years. so she doesn’t care one bit about the fact that she’s cuddling a robot. she’d figured starting a relationship with anyone on earth would be something different for her regardless– so a lot of the things cyborg used to think a partner would find problems with, end up not happening because man, this alien chick. “may i lay together with you in your bed?” “girl are you saying you wanna sleep while standing up?? on my charging port???? surrounded by 3478012 cables and wires?????” “is there no room? then may i sleep on the floor?” she just wants to be with him

heck more bed shenanigans would involve like, cyborg awkwardly trying to lie down on star’s bed, and it feels weird coz he hasn’t slept in a real bed for years and while it feels nice he’s kinda sinking into the mattress and he’s self-conscious about leaving a dent in the frame?? or like rolling over at night and squashing star which would be awkward coz he’s more than a little heavy?? then star hops in and cuddles close and is all like shhhhhhhhh slep time

silkie is usually very happy about cyborg’s presence in star’s room, if only because he can gnaw on cy’s legs while they sleep. cy begins to think it’s also revenge since there’s a lot less space on the bed with himself in it, and silkie struggles to find room near starfire to sleep at night. they eventually just get a bigger bed. silkie is a lot less stressed– but cyborg still wakes up with chew marks in his legs

if either of them are too tired from a battle that day, the other will carry them to bed. BB laughed his ass off the first time he saw starfire princess carrying cy to his room (star’s perfectly capable of carrying his weight but her arms aren’t necessarily long enough to hold onto him properly, making it a little cumbersome and awkward), but cy just tiredly gives B the finger

cy will talk to star in awkward broken tamaranian and she’ll get all giggly. everyone else assumes it’s cute flirting, but he’s actually whispering dirty, raunchy shit. that she taught him. and she continues to teach him tamaranian, occasionally dropping new words while otherwise speaking english, and waiting for him to ask about what they mean.

cy will sometimes smack star’s ass and then run for his life before she can return the favor, because he always ends up with an overly-enthusiastic handprint-shaped dent in his ass. it’s a terrifying game of tag. BB will chase them chasing each other with a camera to add to his album of “cyborg’s dented ass” photos that he shares with the whole titans network

cy teaches star about the niches in earth/american culture, the kinds of things that are a little harder to learn about on your own, or things she otherwise wouldn’t have had a reason to learn. he tells her about old american tv shows and explains obscure slang words and how to make telemarketers hang up first and what the contra code is and why he mashes it in every time he boots up a new video game. it’s a crash course mix of useless trivia and miscellaneous culture that makes star’s head spin– but she’s excited about learning all the same, the power of just knowing more makes her feel more comfortable on a planet where she is always a foreigner

it’s kinda why star adores all the different nicknames cy has for her like “fly girl” “baby doll” etc because it makes her feel “in” coz she gets all these cool nicks of names like other earth people!! she fits in!!!! and he’ll say it so fondly it makes her blush half the time. cy definitely notices and thinks its super cute at how excited she gets over pet names. she tries to nickname him back at one point but it felt awkward and she struggled to come up with them, and cy reassured her that he liked her saying out his name anyway, its cool. just be yourself babey

cy loves teaching star things in general, he’s patient and she’s always an eager student. he once took a few hours showing her how to play video games and while she didn’t really take to it, she did learn how to not break the controller whenever her virtual car’s about to crash into the divider (she still shrieks when it happens though)

initially, star is a bit nervous about touching some of cyborg’s robot parts like the implants and consoles coz she’s not sure how to deal with them? alien tech is one thing and earth tech is another, and then there’s the advanced shit that made up cyborg’s body and literally keeps him alive. she’s petrified at the thought of accidentally breaking something like what if she presses the button that turns off his lungs???????? and cy is like why the fuck would i have a button to turn off my lungs?? so one day cy just sits her down so she’s leaning back against his chest, and he looks over her shoulder as he shows her how to navigate his arm console. press this button and choose this option, no the screen wont break even if you press hard, dont use the browser to download malware on my arm like BB did, etc. the ui’s pretty intuitive and star gets it pretty quickly, then she gets all excited. cy teaches her about all the maintenance he does on his body and how his charger works and all that shit and she like oooooo

“if the t-car is your baby, does this mean i am its mother? cyborg does she like me enough? should i assist in changing her oil? *panicking* WILL SHE ACCEPT ME AS HER ADOPTED K’NORFKA?!”

(the t-car is a sassy one, easily jealous and protective– but ultimately, she does approve of starfire, if only just barely)

they spend a lot of time in the garage together. whether cy’s fussing with the t-car or putting together a new gadget, star’s a helpful assistant when it comes to welding or heavy lifting. and while she doesn’t necessarily get programming, she still helps cy with all the calculations and math involved in it; the concept of physics as she has encountered on earth is primitive compared to tamaran, and cy will often challenge her to crack a tough equation before his computer can. while the computer usually gets a result first, star will just explain that its answer was wrong in the large scheme of things, before she starts going in depth into that nerdy science shit to find a more effective way to wire whatever project they’re working on and cy’s just like  ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ heart eyes ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ at how smart she is

they fucking love food. while all the titans are hanging out in the common room, star and cy spend an inordinate amount of time in the kitchen. star will literally eat anything, at any time, and cy would go like “yo star want a sub??” and shes like “YES I WOULD LOVE THE EDIBLE SUBMARINES” and they go make the tallest sub ever and then Eat it

they just cook together a lot, one of them being head chef for the hour and the other being the kitchen assistant. cy’s usually in the lead when they’re making food for the other titans (to prevent food poisoning), and star is happy to learn new recipes that aren’t lethal to her friends– that, and licking all the mixing bowls clean. cy purposely gets sauce etc on his face so that star will see and lick it off too. then star will very unsubtly smear food on her face so that cy will wipe it off with his finger and then things get handsy. (they’re both aware it’s a game, but they pretend like they don’t.)

cy gets them matching aprons and a tiny chef hat for star. she asks him why it’s so tiny or even necessary but he just thinks its cute af on her lol

it helps cy’s ego when star will also eat literally anything he puts in front of her while enjoying it unironically. of course, cy quickly learns that starfire’s favorite “earth” foods are things that most people wouldn’t consider food at all, so while he’ll prepare Real Food for himself, he had to start a new custom cookbook for the random combinations of ingredients that starfire likes to ingest. he’s torn between feeling like his chef skills go to waste on her, or being proud at how good he’s become at figuring out the kinds of food combos she likes based on the flavors and consistencies she’s inclined to. but ultimately she’s just so cute and happy when she smiles at the taste of m&ms on raw steak that cyborg’s just like ahh. fine.

cyborg: *sighs while writing* “edamame in a cherry-chocolate reduction: get a handful of fresh edamame, washing is optional, pour hershey’s chocolate sauce all over it, add cherries but don’t remove the pits or the stems, sprinkle in some drops of 7up, then cover that shit in mustard. stick it all in the microwave for 1 minute, doesn’t really matter what temperature? prep time: 3 and a half minutes. the fuck did i just write”

star: *wolfs down that edamame shit like its the best goddamn thing ever*

raven:

meanwhile, while cy can’t stomach star’s tamaranean food, he does go out of his way to learn how to prepare the stuff himself, for whenever star’s sick or feeling down. the nostalgic taste of home tends to help her feel better. the bowls of wustlepus might keep trying to strangle him, but hey, cy can handle it

cy used to think we was master of stuffing his face, but he quickly found out that you do not challenge an alien with 9 stomachs to an eating competition and expect to win. it’s still fun, of course, to pick a restaurant and watch her slowly but surely put away food with a grace that cy doesn’t (care to) have. robin and BB cheer will them on, raven is disgusted but plays referee anyway (even though it’s not like the result ever changes)

“are the table manners required for today’s duel of excessive food consumption?” star will ask cy innocently, but she’d be smiling a lil smugly because she knows she’s gonna win like always

(at some point, the restaurant manager will start eyeing them nervously from the doorway of the staff room, unsure about whether to ask the titans to leave before they run the kitchen dry, or to take advantage of the publicity.)

cy and star are a couple that isn’t inclined to subtle about anything. that means smooching all the time. mwah noises. flirting. glomps. yelling at shit together for fun– cy just expresses himself loudly, while shouting at each other is a form of affection on tamaran. they’ll sometimes wrestle, sometimes arm wrestling and sometimes all out full-body on the floor (actual wrestling tho, not a innuendo; star usually wins). they keep denting walls and furniture with their messing around and the other titans are like /(e_e)\ *passing out earplugs* and at some point robin is like guys… just… keep it in your rooms please

but being loud isn’t exclusive to daytime. nobody fucking knows how the hell an alien and a robot get it on, but based on all the god damn noise at night, they’ve apparently figured something out. maybe more than one something. it is a mystery

“hey, star… ever heard of a vibrator?”

most of their making out happens in the gym tho, let’s be real. they’ve been checking each other out for years in there. now they just get frisky after (or during, or before) a workout, culminating in yet another “workout”. they never lock the door, and after enough incidents the other titans just end up boycotting the gym entirely in lieu of the other training room

with the added privacy, star opts to work out in the gym without a top on. or a bra. then she heads for the treadmill

“you never wear clothing, cyborg, so why should i?”

cyborg keeps dropping his weights on himself and just ends up covered in dents, two mangled prosthetic legs, and having done no training at all

they’re such a peppy excited pair that sometimes things can get a bit too wild. there’s a pile in the back of cy’s room made up solely of dented/crushed/melted/ripped arm and leg prosthetics, all damaged because cy was busy pampering his superpowered alien gf a lil too much. starfire feels super bad but cy is like, he has to fix his limbs after a lot of battles anyway, it’s no big deal. he also hasn’t bothered to suggest a workaround yet because watching her lose control is hot (and maybe getting his hand melted is kinda kinky)

they sometimes troll the other titans– usually robin– by whispering in tamaranian behind them and snickering, pretending like they’re talking about them. robin used to be extra miffed by this, but after learning that cy’s tamaranian is actually still shit enough that he has yet to learn to string together a proper sentence longer than 3 words, robin knows they’re just fucking around with him. at one point robin turns around on the couch and throws some tamaranian right back at them and cyborg’s like :O what the fuck? what the fuck?? and star’s like yeah actually robin asked me to teach him tamaranian too. and robin’s like :) and cy is grumpy he can’t antagonize him with it anymore (and that it’s not exclusively his and star’s code language anymore, but really, you can’t own a language like that)

star likes to cart cy around while flying, but he’s just so bulky that he doesnt look all graceful and shit like robin; he just looks kinda goofy dangling in the air with her holding him under the arms. but even if he felt a little self-conscious, he forgets it quickly when she lets him skim the ocean with his feet or take him up over the clouds– he’d thought he lost everything with the accident that left him a robot, but getting to fly like this is something he never could’ve even dreamed of even when he was all human. like. this must be what it actually means to be living. everything happens for a reason

cy gets a UV lamp installed in his body just in case they get stuck somewhere and there’s no sunlight for star, he can’t replace the sun but it might help

he also turns his heaters up a bit when they’re cuddling coz he knows she likes warmth, as long as he’s not running the risk of overheating his system, but his metal parts can be cold to the touch and while she doesnt mind it at all he just wants her to be cozy….

cy’s like the only titan taller than star, so she usually floats to be eye level with him. he big and bulky and strong and he reminds her of galfore, and that’s part of why she always felt protected and safe around him. not to mention star’s been getting taller than most earth people her age; she sometimes feels like a tall poppy, sticking out of the crowd too much. so she lowkey enjoys being smol for once compared to cyborg, especially if she ever feels like hiding behind him, or being carried by him, the comfort of a sort of bodyguard that she doesn’t necessarily need but is there if she wants

i keep bringing this up but star sitting on cyborg’s shoulders/arms like. the result is this tall stack of a couple that towers over all the other titans– then like everyone will be chilling on the couch when they hear making out noises from above and they look up and its just star floating around cyborg’s head as they smooch and everyone’s like -_-

all the meme fun aside, they’re always able to confide in each other whenever they’re upset. they’ll sit together in silence and just lean on each other or hug and wait for someone to spill. if (when) it comes down to “will i ever fit in?”, because that kinda worry never completely goes away, they’ll be reassured that they know the few places they’ll always be accepted– and that’s in the titans, or in the unconventional relationship between a half robot and an alien nuclear bomb

star likes being around cy coz he’s so sturdy, in more ways than one– he’s strong enough to tank stuff so it’s safer to roughhouse with him. she loves being able to give the biggest of hugs without worrying too much about crushing a ribcage (earthlings and their Fragile Little Bones!)

cy loves how small star is compared to him bc shes fun to pick up or pluck from the air and cuddle ♥ and she’s so warm, just radiating heat both literally and metaphorically and she’s so full of life and heart, and cy’s once again reminded of what it really means to be human– by a goddamn alien, no less

they like to touch each other’s faces, just caressing n stuff like they do in “how long is forever” and the teen titans go comic #24, staring into each others eyes and shit and going all (uwu) they just love to touch each other okay even back when they were just friends!!!!!!!

HAVE I MENTIONED THE SMOOCHES. star will just kiss cy all over his face because its fun and she knows he likes it. then cy returns the favor, except with increasingly exaggerated kissing and nomming noises because it makes star laugh and blush like crazy. it’s horribly embarrassing for anyone else watching. star & cy are usually standing in the middle of the corridor by this point, and then robin was gonna head to his office, but once he sees the path is blocked– by this no less– just returns the way he came without a word

if anyone tries to make star feel uncomfortable for being alien or misunderstanding something, which does still happen sometimes, they’ll quickly find out they’ve got the goddamn terminator comin for their ass. or they’ll turn around and see 6 foot tall robot man with arms crossed and red eye glowing and he’ll be like (: hey there (:

star keeps leaving the garage with motor oil all over her face. none of the other titans knows how to address it, or if they even should, so they don’t

anyway theyre in love

[jamielea81]

A Walk in the Park

Chapter 8

Description: When your husband dies in an accident, you try to move on with your life. When the memories of your shared home become too much even after two years, you make a drastic change and move to California. A new career, a new way of life, and an attractive new friend help you move on to find the happiness you need. *This will be a slow burn*

Pairings: Chris Evans x Reader Tim OFC x Reader (face claim Tom Welling)

Warnings for this chapter:  Angst, a lot of it. Curse words. A tiny bit of fluff.

Unbeta’d, so all mistakes are my own. This is purely for fun. Comments and reblogs give me life. Tags are open. Please send me an ask if you would like to be tagged.

Read chapter 7 here

 Time stood still, at least it felt like it had. You couldn’t breathe and the tears were still rolling down your cheeks. Erika still had a firm hold around your waste as your hands slowly slipped from her shoulders. You quickly wiped away the tears on your face with the backs of your hands. “I should go.” Your voice barely above a whisper, but they both heard you.

“Y/N, don’t.” Erika says releasing you from her hold. She smooths your hair, tucking pieces behind your ears. “You should stay, talk to him.” She says this only to you, leaning in as close as possible.

“What’s going on? Why are you crying?” Chris asks. He’s voice is even. You can’t look at him, not with your face a mess and the tears only slightly slowing to a stop.

“I’m going to leave you two to talk.” Erika says. You grasp her hand trying to get her to stay, but she only squeezes yours and then pulls away.

You hear the sliding door open and then close. You still don’t dare look up. Wrapping your arms around yourself, you begin to bounce on your feet. A chair scraps against the ground and you look up. Chris has pulled a chair from the patio table and sat down. Dodger by his side eagerly waiting for attention. This time he’s not looking at you. Fuck this. You start walking toward the patio door but Chris reaches out grabbing a hold of your wrist. He doesn’t pull hard, but just enough to let you know he doesn’t want you to leave.

“Talk to me. What’s going on tonight?” Is that sincerity in his voice? You really shouldn’t be surprised. He’s a good person, you know that, even if has been a shitty one as of late.

“Besides the fact that this is the most you’ve talked to me all night? Maybe even the last two weeks.”

He scoffs, releasing your wrist. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

You stop and turn toward him. Letting him see your tear stained cheeks in the light that illuminates the patio door. You’re angry now. This game that is being played isn’t fair and your tired of it already. You’re too old for this shit. This behavior is expected from a teenager, not a grown man nearing 40. Licking your lips, you walk toward him and for a second, he must think that your going to hit him because he almost flinches. You grab the chair across from him at the table and take a seat. Dodger immediately comes to your side and whines for your attention. You look down at him and start to stroke his head. “You’ve been ignoring me.” You keep your head down, still concentrating on Dodger. He starts to speak but you cut him off. “Don’t deny it. We went from talking, texting and seeing each other every day to you not responding to texts.”

He sighs. “I told you I was going to be busy for a while.”

“And I understand that.” Your voice slightly raised and you cringe after the words come out. “But this started before you even told me that. I’m not selfish, I know you have other friends. I don’t expect you spend all your free time with me.”

You paused to catch your breath and calm yourself down a bit.

“Then what do you expect of me?” Smugness in his voice.

“For you to be my fucking friend Chris. What happened to the guy who held my hand at your last party saying that he would be there for me? I felt like I was inconveniencing you if I even dialed your number or sent you a text. You were pushing me away.”

“I wasn’t.”

“You were. Are.” You blew out a big puff of air. “I wasn’t invited tonight and I didn’t want to come. You know how persistent Erika and Emma can be.” He nodded. “If you need space, I’m fine giving it to you. But don’t take too long. I may try to act like I’m strong, but I’m not really. I’ll take all the friends I can get.”

You got up and walked to the patio door. Chris jumped to his feet, grabbing your elbow, turning you around and pulling you into an embrace. Your arms slack at your sides, not willing to give in just yet. “We’re fine. I promise. We are friends Y/N.” He moved one arm to hold against your back and the other cradling your head, stroking your hair slightly with his fingers. “Please.” His voice small and needy. You slowly lift both arms to hug him back. Taking deep breaths and exhaling them slow. You nod your head a few times because you don’t want to speak at this moment. You pull away slowly from his embrace.

“I’m going to go.” You say pointing at the door.

“Don’t, please stay. You can go in through my bedroom,” He’s pointing to a pair of French doors about feet away. “You can get cleaned up in there before coming back in.”

“I-I don’t think so. I’m tired, it’s been a long night.”

“Please stay, at least for a little while?” He gives you a dopey smile, clasping his hands together.

“Okay.” You walk to the French doors opening one, looking back at Chris who is watching you, and then you slip inside.

There’s a lamp turned on sitting on his end table next to his bed. Your grateful, because the last thing you need is another fall leading to another sprained ankle. His bedroom is large with dark wood flooring, a king-sized bed, and a tan sofa at the end of it. There’s a painting above his bed of a city, you assume Boston because you definitely spot a Red Sox logo. On the wall opposite the bed is a flat TV screen mounted to the wall. Below it, a chest of drawers with various size photo frames housing pictures of Chris’ family. There’s a bathroom next to his closet. You walk inside and open the bathroom closet looking for a wash cloth. You end up finding a package of wet wipes which causes you to raise a brow. Interesting. Your eye makeup is practically shot. Mascara and eyeliner are smeared down to your cheeks. Thank goodness for wet wipes. You take one out of the container and wipe away the smears. You blow your nose a few times, and then pinch your cheeks to give you a little bit of color. After taking a few calming breaths you open the bedroom door and walk into the kitchen.

Erika and a couple of the guys are seated at the kitchen island. Tim and Chris on the couch playing a video game while Emma and Joanna watched. Erika mouths “are you alright?” You answer with a shruggy head shake and bob. Truth is, you’re still not sure how you feel.

You open the refrigerator door grabbing yourself a water bottle. “Hey babe, do you want anything?” Babe? Where’d that come from? You are so not at relationship nickname status yet.

“Yeah, grab me a beer.” - “No, I’m good.” Chris and Tim say at the same time. Your eyes go wide and you look to Erika who is once again mouthing words to you, this time it’s clearly “Oh my God.”

You grab a beer and take it into the living room handing it to Chris who says thanks without looking up. Tim looks over and then pauses the game. His eyebrows are furrowed in concern. Standing up, he sets the game controller on the coffee table and walks toward you, stepping over Chris’ legs. “Are you alright?” He takes your hand in his and tucks a section of your hair behind your ear.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. I was outside getting some air and something flew into my eye. It made my eyes water like crazy.” When did I get so good at lying?

“Okay. I was worried something upset you.”

‘No, I’m fine. But I am going to head home. I have to work all day tomorrow.” You let go of his hand and opened up the Uber app. “I’m just going to get an Uber.”

“I can drive you,” He looks hopeful and you feel a little bad that you just want to be alone right now.

“No, stay. You’ve worked late all week. Hangout and have a good time.” You give him a smile.

“Okay. I’ll walk you out.” He takes your hand and leads you to the door.

“Bye guys.” You half yell. You hear an echo of goodbyes and Chris kind of does a half wave. Whatever.

Your driver’s only a couple of minutes away. You and Tim walk to the end of the driveway and wait in silence. It’s cooled down a lot and your body shivers slightly. Tim notices and throws an arm around you pulling you in close. He smells wonderful. It’s clean soap and lavender. The car pulls up and Tim hugs you with both arms, kissing the top of your head. You pull back slightly leaning your face up as he leans down and you kiss. You’re not really the type to put on a show, so you keep it short and sweet.

‘I’ll call you.” He says as you open the back-passenger door. You smile and wave.

An hour later, as you’re climbing into bed, he calls you. Tim’s a man of his word. Although you don’t see him as much as you’d like, he’s attentive and reliable. These a qualities you like.

@crimeshowtrash @cocomel0613 @flamencodiva @the—blackdahlia @thefandomzoneisdangerous @maddie-laufeyson @shameless-pope @tessvillegas @pivans @angelus320 @symonlyjen5 @inlovewith3

[keeroo92]

Hi! I love your writings so much! I saw your post of wanting some writing prompts. If you still would like some, I have one! Prompt: V and reader are set up on a blind date. Maybe Nero set them up because the 2 are so different from each other (opposites attract type thing). The entire date goes horribly wrong, but despite that, Nero ended up being right and they start falling for each other.

Ahhhh, my first prompt!!! Thank you so much, I had such a blast writing this! I’ll be working on your second one later today :3

Word count: 2,269

__________

Being single and living with Nero and Kyrie was such a pain. You caught them in all manner of compromising situations, from the way they stared at each other to walking in on them in the shower together. It was downright nauseating to see how lovesick they were. You’d been single for a long time, and as you complained about the living situation to Nero one day, he offered an alternative.

“I know a guy, you should meet him.”

He glanced knowingly at Kyrie but she just held up her hands in a classic gesture of “leave me out of it” and left the room. You were instantly on high alert.

“Uh… a guy? Care to be more specific?”

Nero smirked at your hesitance and you pressed a fingernail into the flesh of your palm to keep yourself from smacking the smugness right off his face.

“I’ll set it up. You free Friday?”

And thus on Friday night, you found yourself at a café downtown. You had a casual but flirty skirt on, perfect for the delayed summer heat. Kyrie had even done your hair. It was a weakness of yours, but she turned out to be a lifesaver and arranged a stylish French twist across the backside of your head.

All that work to dress up, and Nero’s “guy” was late.

By twenty minutes.

You stood in the lobby amongst a horde of patrons with the horrible orange bracelet Nero had given you so his friend would know who you were. He had blatantly refused to drop a single clue who you were meeting no matter how hard you prodded him.

You had to give Nero credit; he’d maintained his silence through an entire week. Impressive, considering how you even recruited Nico to needle him. He rarely kept any secrets from her, as her brash attitude tended to get under his skin and break his composure.

You snickered quietly, remembering how the two had bantered over dinner last night, when you heard a shy voice call your name. Your eyes glided up the figure of the man who had spoken with intense curiosity – was this “the guy”?

Oh, please let this be “the guy”…

His elegant appearance dashed every image you had pictured, none of them coming close to his poise. His converse shoes led to a pair of black jeans that fit just right under a dark button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up for the heat.

And he has tattoos…

The stranger leaned closer as he offered a single hand to shake yours, giving you a better view of his face. Raven locks framed his ethereal features and you spotted the edges of the same pattern of lines extended partially up his neck. His eyes were beyond description and you reached out to take his hand with a gracious smile.

And just like that the illusion shattered as his clammy palm grasped yours.

Well, nobody’s perfect.

“Apologies for my lateness. The hours of folly are measured by the clock, as they say.”

He released you quickly, much to your relief. He gestured toward the podium where a hostess stood, clearly struggling to keep up with the sheer volume of people in the lobby.

“It’s alright. Nice to meet you, um… Nero didn’t tell me your name.”

The man looked down and you assumed he chuckled, but with the noise of the crowd you couldn’t be sure. His eyes met yours once more in a piercing stare.

“You can call me V.”

“As in… V for Vendetta?” you asked with a dubious glance.

He stared at you blankly, clearly not comprehending your reference. You brushed it aside; it was a bit of a cult classic, anyway. The hostess waved you forward and you waited patiently as V spoke with her. He returned a moment later with an annoyed grimace, grabbing a thin jacket from the coatrack and gestured you outside before speaking.

“They lost the reservation, and the wait is over an hour.”

You sighed but maintained your cheerful mood despite the mishap. A glance around the area showed several alternate options, though they all appeared equally busy.

“Well, want to try the next block? I think there’s at least a sandwich shop.”

V nodded and waved a hand for you to lead the way. His mannerisms so far reminded you of a Victorian gentleman, and you couldn’t decide if that was a plus or not.

The night is young. Plenty of time to figure that out.

You stepped out from beneath the covered entrance to the café and paused at the lack of change in lighting. You looked at the sky and frowned at the clouds gathering overhead.

Within thirty seconds, it began to rain.

You hid under a small tree, its branches doing a piss-poor job of keeping you dry as you considered your options. A blur of motion made your eyes glace back at V to find him holding out his coat to you bashfully, his hair already damp.

Victorian gentleman is a plus. Definite plus.

You accepted his jacket with a grateful smile, threading your arms through the sleeves and pulling up the hood to discover it draped around you like a circus tent. Still, it was dry. And it smelled amazing. You took a deep breath, enjoying the hint of spiciness and masculinity in the fabric.

“Thank you,” you said, peeking out from behind the collar.

“Of course.”

The pair of you continued walking, silent as you tried to think of something to say. This was the part of first dates that you sucked at – small talk. You hated the tedious mundanity of surface conversation. Still, it was expected of you and you knew how to play the game, if nothing else.

“So how do you know Nero? He told me literally nothing about you.”

V smirked, his lips twisting in an adorable shape.

“We worked on a big job together a few months ago. I would not be exaggerating to say he helped save my life,” he responded slowly, “And you? You live with him, correct? How did you meet?”

The memory made you chuckle..

“A few summers back I was working at an ice cream store near his work and their AC kept going out. He came in at least twice a week and got a huge tub of strawberry cheesecake ice cream. Kinda evolved from there.”

V barked out a laugh, turning the corner beside you as he replied, “That sounds like Nero.”

You could see the sign for the sandwich shop ahead and took another deep whiff of V’s coat in preparation to return it.

This isn’t so bad.

Then you started sneezing.

“Bless you,” V said swiftly. He held the door to the shop open for you as you let out another sneeze.

You hurriedly removed his coat and handed it back to him as your eyes began watering. You knew what this meant.

Ugh. Definitely a potential problem.

“Do you have a cat?”

He looked at you quizzically, taking his coat as he answered in the affirmative.

“I’m allergic…”

He raised his eyebrows and took a step back as you sneezed yet again.

“I’m sorry, I hadn’t thought of that. Would it help if I kept my distance?”

You shook your head. The damage was done; you’d be sneezing like this for a while even if you went straight home.

“I’ll be right back.” You smiled at V again and headed to the bathroom of the sub shop. You blew your nose until nothing came out anymore, then stuffed a few more tissues in your purse for later. While washing your hands you noticed the dampness of your mussed hair and the makeup running from your eyes.

Shit.

You did the best you could to remove the smeared mascara and eyeliner, leaving behind a messy smudge of black on each eyelid. You released your locks and combed through them with your fingers, carefully saving the bobby pins.

Good enough, I guess.

You returned to V near the counter as he pondered his options. He glanced back to you and smiled gently.

“What?”

A light tint colored his cheeks as he replied, “Your hair looks nice that way.”

You sneezed.

Right over the glass covering the meat.

You saw V’s lips twitch with what you assumed was distaste as he took in the fine mist you’d deposited on the transparent glass. You looked at your feet in embarrassment, wishing the floor would swallow you whole.

“What can I make you two? Aw, man… I just cleaned that…”

Oh god, could this get any worse?

You turned away and rummaged in your purse for a heartbeat, handing V a ten dollar bill.

“Order me something with turkey.”

With that, you walked outside, barely able to keep from running.

It was still raining; if anything the pattering drops quickened. You sighed, taking shelter under the miniscule marquee. You wrapped your arms around yourself as the air cooled, fighting off the goosebumps cropping up on your forearms.

The door to the shop swung open beside you and V came out with a small bag. He spotted your posture and shuffled his feet for a moment before speaking.

“Would you like to borrow my coat?”

The appeal of the heat was too strong, and you nodded with a grateful smile. He handed you your sandwich and draped his jacket across your shoulders with a smirk. The two of you seated yourselves at one of the plastic tables sheltered from the rain and you unwrapped your meal to dig in, pausing as you saw the meat.

“They were out of turkey, I hope roast beef is alright,” V murmured apologetically.

“It’s fine, thank you.”

You took the first bite and noticed he didn’t have a sandwich of his own. Pointedly, you stared at the empty spot on the table until he awkwardly spoke again.

“I left my wallet at home.”

You sneezed.

Twice.

V cracked a small smile and suddenly the whole situation was utterly ridiculous. Not a single thing tonight had gone as planned. You smiled back, snickering. He chuckled along with you and all the tension shattered as you shared a moment of mirth.

“This really has not been our night,” you commented dryly between laughter. He shook his head with a smirk, agreeing.

As the last few chortles faded away, you carefully split your sandwich in half and handed it to V on a napkin. His eyes widened before he accepted it with a rueful smile.

“Thank you. And I’ve enjoyed it, regardless.”

You flushed as you caught the gleam in his gaze, like you were the only other person in existence. You took another bite and held your breath, swallowing as fast as possible to subdue the next sneeze.

“So have I.”

The two of you spent the following few minutes eating and chatting, getting to know one another better. You found his wit charming, his attention to your every word like a small flame in your chest. He made you laugh, between sneezes. Made you roll your eyes with a line of poetry. Made you cringe as he described his family.

All too soon, the night wound to a close. V walked you back to your car, carefully making sure he walked on the portion of the sidewalk closer to traffic. You enjoyed the deep hum of his voice and indulged in one last sniff of his coat as you reached your vehicle.

“This is me.”

V frowned, glancing at the ground as you removed his jacket and held it out to him. He took it hesitantly, almost hiding behind the gesture as he replied.

“I had a wonderful time. Thank you for your company.”

You sneezed, holding up a hand to cover your mouth and nose as you blushed.

“I did too,” you said once it was safe.

He gave you a nervous look, his anxiety obvious as he leaned forward to close the gap between you and place a light kiss on your cheek. You pulled him closer, wrapping your arms around him in a quick hug before stepping away and unlocking your car. You paused as a thought struck you.

“Hey V… let me give you my number.”

He smiled, brushing his black hair out of his face as he waited patiently for you to find a pen. You didn’t have any paper and ended up writing the digits on his forearm, right along one of the dark lines of his tattoos. He blew on the ink to help it dry before donning his jacket once more.

“I’ll talk to you soon,” he assured you as you started the car. You gave him one last smile as you backed out of the parking spot, waving as you drove away. You couldn’t help but glance at him in the rearview mirror, watching his slim figure shrink with distance. He watched you go, not moving until after you turned the corner.

You sneezed.

Despite the rain, the allergies and all the small hiccups of the evening, you found yourself excited to see V again. You weren’t the type to sit and wait by the phone, but even so it didn’t take long for his first message to appear a mere twenty minutes later. You grinned like an idiot when you heard the soft ding, making Nero smirk knowingly from where he sat on the couch with Kyrie.  

[sixx6ixxsixx]

Something Else

Title: Something Else

Rating: T

Pairing: Spacestar 1.0, Paul Stanley/ Ace Frehley

Characters: Ace Frehley, Paul Stanley

Summary: Set in the Attack of the Phantom universe, Ace is feeling a little bad about not being able to get the boys out of Deveraux’s lair. Paul makes him feel better.

Notes: Half of this was written last year before my big writing hiatus, I just felt like finishing it would be good for me to write something other than Motley Crue. 

Paul could hear the softened guitar notes as he approached the door of the pad. Gene and Peter had chosen to spend some “quality” time with the fans, they were still buzzing from the fight and needed to cool off, but Ace had disappeared as soon as they came off stage. It wasn’t like him, Ace loved messing with fans after the shows, he loved the energy they all had. Still, tonight had been a new experience for them all, they’d never had to fight off animatronic versions of themselves in front of a few thousand fans before.

Paul stood silently at the door and listened to the music, making out what must have been some new lyrics Ace was working on. They were slow and had a different energy than anything he’d heard him write before.

“You can come in, Paul, I won’t bite.” His words were playful but his voice was tired.

Paul swung himself around the doorframe, leaning against it. “How’d you know?”

“I know you... I knew you’d be the one who noticed if I wasn’t there. That and your boots have been squeaking since the ghost ride.” He smiled softly and moved across to one side of the noodle sofa, putting his guitar down when Paul sat next to him.

“You alright?” He shifted, resting one arm on the back of the cushions, waiting for Ace to meet his gaze. He didn’t.

Ace reached down, fiddling with the hem of his boot. The corner of his mouth twitched to the side, the way it often did when he thought and, after a moment, he shrugged. He had no answer. Of course he wasn’t ok, he almost... but how could he explain that to Paul? Paul had only ever saw the best in them. He had overlooked the flaws and limitations of his band- his team- and worked through to keep them together. Ace had seen him work for months with Gene before they could go public and he had never admired anyone more because of it.

As he shook his head, Ace’s hair fell in front of his face. He found it a brief comfort as he felt his eyes begin to sting, tears building. He wasn’t sad, not in the slightest, just... overwhelmed.  He felt the cushion dip as Paul scooted even closer.

With the fragility he had used with Melissa earlier, Paul reached up and, with the back of his finger, brushed the stray hair from the painted face. “I’m here.”

Ace leant into the touch, eyes closing to halt the tears. “Why are you so... You’re something else, really.” A soft smile playing about his lips as he let his hands reach up to cover Paul’s. “I’m ok. Today’s just been a bit difficult.”  

“Well, I’m here when you wanna talk. You know that.” He smiled wide and took his hand back. “Anyway, what am I?”

The question took Ace by surprise, he hadn’t really noticed he’d said it, something else. “Umm, I didn’t... I just meant not like others.”

“None of us are like others.” Paul’s laugh warmed Ace but his words struck him cold. He didn’t expect Paul to understand. How could the lover of KISS be so blind to him? Maybe he just didn’t want to see him. Ace wouldn’t blame him.

He wanted to laugh but nothing came out. Ace was staring into the deep brown of Paul’s eyes. The thick black outlines and sharp shapes only drawing him deeper. If it weren’t for the fact he trusted Paul entirely, he would swear he was using his powers to keep him mezmerised.  

He was so tired, he didn’t want to play this game again tonight. Every time they were alone, it was the same. Paul would be perfect and oblivious and Ace would try and get his attention, failing and giving up. “I’m going to sleep. Tonight’s been rough, I had to punch my own beautiful face.” The amusement in his voice fake enough to make Paul roll his eyes.

“Please, Ace. I know I can help if you just talk to me. I’m not letting you go tonight unti-” Ace had already pressed his dark lips against Paul’s, cutting him off and smearing red into the white around them. He pulled away fast.

“I’m so sorry, I don’t... I’m sorry.”

“Was that the problem? Because, if it was, you’re an idiot.” He grinned and shifted close enough to press his body against Ace’s. Leaning in, he kissed the guitarist softly. Ace fell into the touch, he didn’t want to overthink it in case he woke up or something. He’d wanted this since the day he’d met. Paul had always been special to him, so elegant. He understood how someone like him could control the power of the stars so easily.

Paul broke the kiss, barely. He kept his arms on Ace, face inches from his. Ace opened his eyes, they were very watery. This was so much to take in and it couldn’t have happened at a worse time either. This wouldn’t have happened at all if tonight had gone wrong, if Paul were...

“Ace...”

“I nearly got you killed earlier.” It fell from his mouth and his voice shook. “I nearly got you all killed. I was supposed to get us all out of there and I couldn’t! I wasn’t strong enough and if I can’t even do that, something so simple as to vibrate particles to a speed that the fabric of reality splits around us, how can I look after your heart?”

“We all lost our powers, this isn’t on you.”

“I could’ve lost you.”

“Hey, come here.” Paul pulled the wiry frame close and kissed his head. “You won’t lose me. I’m right here, I’m going nowhere.” Ace melted into the hug and closed his eyes. He couldn’t imagine his life without Paul and, despite what he thought he knew, Paul maybe felt the same way.

“I’m just sorry, I didn’t want you to find out like this either.” Ace’s voice was a whisper now. If he were any louder, his voice would have cracked, he could feel the tension in his throat choking him, he buried his head deeper in Paul’s chest.

“If it was left to you, I wouldn’t have found out at all.” Paul smiled into Ace’s hair. “I’m just to know. It saves me trying to tell you how I feel.”

“Isn’t romance your whole thing?”

“Yeah but you’re... something else.”

[1-1snailxd-art]

Sides of a Hero

RE-UPLOAD BECAUSE THE OTHER POST GOT DELETED ACCIDENTALLY 

Chapter index --------- Chapter 17 

Chapter 18 - Aching in my Head

Summary:  Although Terrence had been away, he still sensed that something was wrong and thankfully he acted on his instinct and alerted others to Thomas’ radio silence. 24hours of silence may seem like nothing to some, but for someone like Thomas, it was definitely a red flag. Terrence and Joan gain access to Thomas’ house, not entirely sure what they are expecting/hoping to find.

————————————————————————

PLEASE, check the warnings on the chapter index if you aren’t familiar with them. Stay safe. Things will get better, I promise.

————————————————————————

The moment he opened his eyes, Thomas regretted the action. His head pounded and he felt like he was laying on a bed of spikes rather than his supportive mattress. Despite the low light that filled the room, his eyes burnt as if he was looking directly at the midday sun and he squeezed them shut as his head exploded with a new wave of pain.

The pain was excruciating, to the point he couldn't think straight, and it felt like his senses were barely functioning. Feeling the burn of acid rising in his throat, Thomas painfully stumbled towards the bathroom; not daring to open his eyes more than a slither in an attempt to lessen the pain in his head. Finally leaning over the cool porcelain bowl, Thomas was faced with the horrible sensation of expelling only bile thanks to having not eaten since the previous evening. Folding his arms across the bowl, he rested his forehead on his arms as his stomach continued to heave and churn. It felt like his skull was going to burst open with the pressure in his head and he silently wished it would just so the pain would end.

  **********************************************************************************

 Joan pushed the door open, swiftly pulling the key out of the lock as they strode inside with Terrence quickly pushing past and heading for the lounge.

"Thomas?" Terrance scanned the empty couch before heading up the stairs.

Joan paused at the dining table, scanning the downstairs area and confirming that everything was where it should feasibly be. Nothing was out of place and Thomas' laptop was set down neatly on the table. Any other time Joan would have felt comforted being there, but today they just felt lost.

 As Terrance reach the top of the stairs, he heard coughing coming from the bathroom and felt his heart skip a beat. Despite his mind screaming "danger", he charged into the bathroom without a second thought. The relief that flooded Terrence's body upon seeing Thomas was quickly turned back into worry as he took in his friends trembling form.

"He's here, Joan!" Terrence called over his shoulder before kneeling behind Thomas and resting a comforting hand on his back. "Hey buddy, you alright?"

 Thomas knew someone was in the room with him and was beginning to register that there was a hand on his back, but he couldn't quite hear what they were saying. As Thomas lent back, Terrence helped guide him so he could lean against the wall in the small room. Joan appeared in the doorway and locked eyes with Terrence.

"What happened?"

"I'm not sure yet." Terrence moved next to Thomas to give him something stable to lean against. "Thomas? Talk to us."

Terrence's voice was soft and gentle, and Thomas was relieved when his brain was able to function enough to connect what he was hearing to his conscious thought.

"Terrence?" mumbled Thomas softly.

"Yeah, man. It's me." Terrence gently placed a hand on Thomas' forehead to check his temperature; he was warm, but not to any concerning degree. "What's going on?"

"Headache."

"Have you taken anything for it?"

"mh-mm."

Terrence looked up at Joan who nodded and went straight to the medicine cabinet to find some form of pain relief. Joan had seen a few people suffer from migraines before, but this was a new level for Thomas, and it was jarring to see their friend so distressed.

"Do you think you can stand?" Terrence whispered, now aware of how loud his voice was in the echoing room. "The floor isn't very comfortable."

"Maybe." Thomas didn't want to move; fearing that standing would trigger more nausea and he did not want to feel that way again any time soon.

Joan finally found some Advil, filled a small cup with water and knelt in front of Thomas. "This should help."

Thomas gratefully accepted both, feeling the cool water soothe his burnt throat and give his stomach something to hold on to.

"We need to get you out of here," Joan commented, "or you need to make your floor more comfortable."

Thomas managed the smallest of smiles, before returning to a grimace as he slowly stood. Terrence did his best to support his friend but quickly realised that their height difference meant he wasn't much help at all.

"I could be more helpful if I were taller," Terrence grumbled as Thomas stopped and swayed slightly; bracing against the wall briefly before continuing to move forward.

"You could also say it would be easier if Thomas was shorter," added Joan as they moved to Thomas' other side and helped guide their friend back into his room.

"I didn't choose my height." Thomas spoke in a barely audible mumble, feeling bad as he gripped Terrence's shoulder to stop himself from leaning too far sideways. "I used to be short."

"Yeah you were." A smile managed to crawl across Terrence's face, “But we were probably still shorter."

 Thomas was thankful to be back on his bed now; it felt so much better after experiencing the hard, cold, bathroom floor. It was only a small distance between his room and the bathroom, but it felt as though he had run a full marathon. His muscles ached and the throbbing at the back of his head was still his biggest source of grief. Terrence helped adjust pillows to make Thomas more comfortable, before finally settling himself up beside him.

Joan noticed Thomas' phone lying on the carpet; picking it up to discover that the battery was completely dead.

"Well this explains why he wasn't answering any of your calls." Joan showed Terrence the black screen before walking away to plug it into a charger.

"I'm sorry," Thomas mumbled, feeling guilty for making his friends worry about him so much.

"There is absolutely nothing to apologise for." Terrence brushed Thomas' hair away from his face and smiled. "We're not going to disown you because you're sick."

"Speak for yourself," Joan grumbled; a smile pulling at their cheeks. "No friend of mine is going to hide being unwell and get away with it."

 Thomas grimaced as Joan's phone started ringing loudly; they gave Terrence an apologetic look before racing out of the room. Terrence gently stroked Thomas' hair, his mind still racing as he wondered if they were doing the right thing. Thomas had been unresponsive all day. What had he been doing all day? How long had he been in pain? Should they be taking him to a doctor? Questions continued to race through Terrence's mind at a rapid pace and he was unable to grasp them long enough to assess them logically. Watching Thomas' face slowly calm and soften provided him with some comfort, and he did his best to remain calm as he waited for Joan to return.

 **********************************************************************************

 Computer screens flickered between black and static; the mechanical hum filled Logan's ears as he regained consciousness on the hard floor of his territory’s lab. His limbs felt weighted and he struggled to get his eyes to focus as he attempted to evaluate the room. The humming and flickering of lights was overwhelming and Logan groaned as he rolled over with heavy limbs, and slowly dragged himself across the floor to reach his room. As he came closer to the door, paper started feeding through a printer; the scratching and scraping of the machine caused Logan to stop and press his hands against his ears in an attempt to dull the unbearable sound. Tears welled in his eyes as the rooms light and sounds continued to increase, and his attempts to block out the stimuli proved futile.

"P-P-P-Patton." he whimpered into the floor, "Rommman. Helllllp."

 **********************************************************************************

 When Roman opened his eyes, he was surprised with how normal the room around him seemed. The bed beneath him was soft and the wooden frame was reminiscent of a design Thomas had seen in an old story book. Sitting up and looking around at the stone walls, Roman found the rooms design to be simple and well organised. Clean wooden dressers with mirrors set on top, mounted swords and other weaponry, two plain wooden doors, a shuttered window, a curious staircase spiralling upwards, and his grand oak door to the common area.  Cautiously standing, Roman moved towards one of the dressers mirrors and was shocked to find himself still in his black stained attire; face smeared with dirt and black.

"NO!"

Roman squeezed his eyes shut, cupping his face as tears threatened to spill from his eyes, and dropped to his knees. He felt his clothing shift as he willed himself clean, wishing he could also clean his mind of the horrible memory of the cliff edge. He could still feel the vines around his neck and the screams of Patton and Rage haunted his hearing in the quiet room. Shaking his head slowly, Roman managed to hold back the tears as he stood and faced his reflection again. The side staring back at him looked afraid and broken. Roman braced his hands against the dresser and stared hard at his reflection.

"My name is Roman, and I am a core side of Thomas Sanders. My main role is managing the imagination kingdom and facilitating Thomas' dreams and creative aspirations. I've fused and worked with many impulses and aspects during Thomas' life and they have shaped me. I am strong. I will get through this. For me. For Thomas. For..."

Roman swallowed and stood up straight, retaking his proud stance and looking a lot more like himself.

"For Virgil."

Satisfied with how he looked, Roman strode over to the window and threw open the shutters to look at the kingdom. The chaos that he saw took his breath away and he immediately sunk down to reach what was once the main square.

 The kingdom was in shambles as every aspect of Thomas' imagination filled the town. Roman had always enjoyed the fantasy aesthetic and had previously designed the kingdom so that each stone or wooden hut acted as a sealed portal to different imaginative realms. Now, a skyscraper sat next to his castle, 2D cartoon animals were running down the street, various people that Thomas had seen or met roamed the streets in confusion, and two dragons flew overhead as they were chased by a Harry Potter themed Thomas on a broom.

Roman stood next to a Doctor Who Tardis, watching as Lion from Steven Universe chased a young Simba down an alleyway between a brick house and a Krispy Kreme store. Roman felt someone come up beside him, sipping loudly from a straw.

"This place is an absolute mess, Babes." Turning, Roman saw a Thomas in a black leather jacket, dark sunglasses and the tag 'sleep' stuck on his chest.

"I can see that," Roman looked back out at the chaos and felt tired just imagining how much effort it was going to take to organise the kingdom again.

"Are you going to fix this anytime soon?" Sleep added in annoyance. "You cannot have a Starbucks right next to a jumping castle. I mean, it is just tacky."

Roman was about to reply when a horse came racing through the square, covered in gold and red ribbons and Stitch riding happily on its back.

"WAIT FOR ME!"

Roman looked to where the horse had come from and saw the Prince character come puffing and panting into the square, and stop in front of him and Sleep.

"Prince Roman! Good to see you." The Prince beamed at the pair and Roman couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at the eccentric Prince. "Love the new layout by the way. So much chaos. It's an endless adventure. Hazzah!"

Prince sprinted after the horse and Stitch, laughing joyously as he left.

Sleep looked sideways at Roman. "Seriously? I cannot deal. Fix this."

"Oh sure." Roman turned to the sarcastic voice that came from the now opened Tardis. "He was going to leave it like this, but he will definitely change it just for you, Sleep."

"Oh, shut it, Anxiety."

"Virgil?" Roman's voice broke as he said the name, staring at the black jacketed Thomas.

"What? No." Anxiety looked at Roman in confusion. "How could you ever mistake me for that freak? We are nothing alike."

"I-I-I... I've got to go" Roman sunk out, leaving the two Sanders Shorts characters to share a confused glance.

"That was weird. Even for him." Anxiety commented. "What do you think happened?"

Sleep shrugged, "I don't care as long as he fixes this mess."

Anxiety lent against the Tardis and watched Sleep walk away. Roman had never confused the Shorts characters with the Sides before; even others like him that didn't wear a label. It didn't sit well with the figment and it only confirmed the fear that many figments already had; the mindscape had lost a main side. Anxiety sunk back into the darkness of the Tardis, feeling it was probably best if he made himself disappear for a while.

.

.

.

Roman rose up in his room again and looked at his door to the common area. Sadness gripped his throat and he quickly turned away to walk up the staircase that led to a tower. As much as he wanted to see the others, Roman knew he wasn't ready to face them yet. He had failed to save them. He was meant to be the brave and heroic prince, but he couldn't save them. Reaching the top of the tower, Roman leant on the brick edge and looked out at the kingdom. The wind blew through his territory and rustled Roman’s hair, carrying the scent of coffee and fresh popcorn.

"I'm sorry, Virgil." Roman let his eyes wander across the view of the kingdom as he spoke to the wind. "I couldn't keep you safe. I let you down. I let everyone down...but I won't let these guys down."

Roman extended his hand out to the skyscraper to his left and gestured down; the building began to warp and fuse with the castle to make another tower. Pausing, Roman looked down at the main square as he saw Elliot talking to Lapis Lazuli. He had always kept the different realms separated and the portals locked; only allowing the fantasy characters to roam freely. As much as the kingdom seemed chaotic with all the free roaming, it was also nice to see the different crossovers. Roman thought for a moment before warping another building and adding a yellow star to the door. Picturing a portal behind the door that would lead to his Steven Universe realm, Roman smiled to himself as he left the portal unlocked before moving on to adjust the next building. As the kingdom retook shape, Roman felt himself slowly regaining his confidence; but his vision began to blur at the edges the longer he worked.

 As Roman continued, a roar sounded behind him and he turned to see a blue dragon flying towards the tower. The dragon carefully grabbed the edge of the tower, folding its wings before crawling down to bow before Roman.

"Pleasure to see you are well my Prince." The dragon raised its head, so they were at eye level with Roman. "We feared that you had been lost to us."

"I am sorry to have worried you, Ledilit. I didn't think of alerting the guard when I regained consciousness."

The dragon recoiled slightly as Roman reached out to stroke the creature’s sapphire scales but allowed the prince to touch them as they registered the sadness in his eyes.

"Estelle has not returned. Were we right to assume she was lost to us?" Roman nodded and continued to stroke Ledilit's head. "I am sorry for your loss my prince."

"No," Roman stopped his movement and bowed to the confused dragon. "I am sorry for your loss. Estelle was a fine leader, your kin and I ..."

Ledilit used their head to push Roman back into a standing position and spoke sternly. "Do not lower yourself for me. Estelle valued her role and her friendship with you. She would not be impressed with you acting in such a way."

A small laugh escaped Roman's lips as he imagined Estelle's reaction. "Indeed, she wouldn't."

"As Estelle's second, I will assume the role as head guard dragon." Roman nodded in agreement and smiled at Ledelit. "Very well. What is your order for the guard?"

"Oh, of course." Roman snapped his fingers and a scroll appeared in his hands. "Can you please assess the impulses of the kingdom."

"What are we assessing?" Ledelit moved next to Roman to get a better view of the scroll, covered in names of key impulses, aspects and figments.

"After the mindscapes reset, we need to establish which aspects and impulses are still present and which are miss..."

Roman paused as he saw Rage on the list, and he heard the impulse screaming in his head again.

"Prince Roman?" Ledelit's voice was laced with concern as they nudged the prince slightly.

"Rage, Deceit and Virgil... They are your top priority." Roman looked at the dragon, a single tear escaped his eye despite his determined expression. "Any trace of them and you let me know. I need... I need to know if they are gone."

The look in Roman's eyes spoke volumes and Ledilit nodded, carefully taking the scroll in one of their claws. They still weren't sure what happened during the storm, but it was clear that Estelle wasn't the only casualty. As they took flight to inform the guard, Ledilit couldn't help but fear for the mindscape and the possible repercussions of losing a core side.

Roman watched Ledelit head towards the forest, wiping his eyes before deciding he couldn't put off seeing the others any longer. Composing himself as he walked down the stairs, Roman entered his room and looked at the door to the common area. Striding straight past his now blurred mirrors, Roman stood at the door with his hand resting on the handle; a mild tremor in his hand and the slightest throbbing at the front of his head. As much as he wanted to see the others, he couldn't bring himself to open the door.

"P-P-P-Patton. Rommman. Helllllp.

Logan's voice rang in Roman's ears and his hand instantly tightened around the handle and pulled the door open.

 **********************************************************************************

 Four impulses stood in a void of darkness, unsure of where they were or what exactly had happened. Three stood in a tight circle, while the fourth roamed around the outside and inspected the space.

 "Looks like we unfused."

"We don't have consciousness. That's terrible."

"Does that mean Thomas doesn't have access to our influence?"

"He's not in danger. We don't need to get back to the mindscape."  

"We can do that?"

"Absolutely. "

"I can't see any harm in trying. Selfishness? What do you think?"

 Selfishness turned and raised his eyes to look at the snake-eyed Lying, black coated Deception, and armoured Self-Preservation. Lying and Deception were already holding hands; clearly, they were eager to try and get back together. Self-Preservation shuffled closer as Selfishness averted his gaze and folded his arms.

"Are you having second thoughts about fusing with us?" Self-Preservation asked, moving around and bending over sideways to be in Selfishness' line of sight again. "Do you regret fusing with us instead of Greed?"

"I only regret allowing us to remain outcasts." Selfishness admitted, raising his head so Self-Preservation could return to a normal position. "It feels like our existence was wasted and lost in the mindscape."

"Perhaps this is our opportunity for a second go at it. I mean, three of us were tainted by Survival last time." Selfishness didn't look convinced and Self Preservation sighed. "But…It's ok if you don't want to fuse. It is your decision in the end, but I still believe Thomas needs us; even if he doesn't fully understand our purpose."

 Selfishness watched the others join hands and he felt their pull as the three commenced a fusion. Time seemed to slow as he considered his options; 1) fuse again with the others and likely return to the mindscape as Deceit, or 2) stay put and hope he could return to the mindscape on his own. Selfishness made his decision as the impulses burst into light and illuminated the darkness that had surrounded them.

 **********************************************************************************

 Patton gasped and sat upright, shivering in the heavy rain that soaked the old playground. The water running down a slide had pooled around him to form a deep puddle and Patton stumbled slightly as he tried to stand; feet sinking in the soft ground. Once upright and stable, Patton cast his gaze up to the sky and let the rain coat his glasses and blurr his vision; closing his eyes as he felt the water cleanse him of dirt and darkness. The rain was a good thing in a way; falling from grey clouds of sadness and loss. Patton would have remained there for hours, soaking in his own sorrow, but he sensed a light to his left and had to open his eyes to investigate.

 A little wooden cubby house was ablaze with white light and Patton held his breath as he walked closer. The light dissipated and Patton opened the door to find a room lit only by the yellow-green hue of glow in the dark star stickers on the surprisingly high ceiling. Summoning a light to the ceiling, Patton lit the room further to reveal an expanded space that was decorated with scraps of fabric and oversized recycled materials; reminiscent of a craft project Thomas had done as a child. Standing in the centre of the room was an impulse, appearing to be inspecting themselves in a tinfoil mirror.

“Dee?”

The impulse jumped slightly and turned to look at Patton, yellow face scales shining in the torch light and his face softened.

“I guess I can use that name.”

Patton lunged forward and wrapped his arms around Dee, locking him into a tight hug. Dee kept his arms at his side, unsure of what to do with them.

“I’m so glad you are ok.” Tears ran down Patton’s cheeks as he spoke. “I thought you had faded for sure.”

Finally, Dee moved his arms and returned Patton’s hug; letting his head drop and rest on the sides shoulder. The hug was warm and a comfort he hadn’t experienced before. He wished it would never end, because ending the hug would mean facing Patton and acknowledging the truth of what had happened. Eventually, Patton loosened his grip and, after a few more seconds, Dee did the same so he could look at Patton’s eyes.

“You look different.” Patton commented, tentatively reaching out to inspect Dee’s scales. “Your eyes are still different but your slit one is more brown than yellow now, and your scales look darker without the light on them.”

“Different is good right?” Dee turned to look at the foil mirror again, “It’s only a small change. I’m my own fusion now. Not a fraction of…Survival.”

Turning back, Dee was surprised to see Patton smiling despite tears still rimming his eyes.

“Looks to me like you have grown a lot from that lying impulse I use to know”

“Yeah. Now it’s my choice, not my curse.” Patton looked at Dee in concern and he couldn’t help but laugh. “Come on, Pat. Thomas isn’t a completely honest person.”

“I know. I don’t like it, but I know.”

“None of us like lying,” The ground was suddenly a very interesting thing for Dee to look at. “Lying to ourselves has short-term gains and long-term problems, and sometimes it protects others feelings or causes riffs in friendships. Regardless, I am still a part of Thomas and now I think I really will be able to find my place in the mindscape. Find my name and show….”

Patton remained still and quiet as he watched Dee speak. In the past he had always ignored Deceit and instantly labelled his lies as bad; therefore, labelling the impulse bad as well. Now a new impulse stood before him. Someone with the same role as Deceit, but a more adjusted and flexible mindset in the place of the deceitful manipulator. Dee was just as determined as Deceit to find his place and name but seemed more at peace with the fact that that journey could take time for him and Thomas.

“… show that there’s…” Dee looked up and locked eyes with Patton. “There is more to me than just a liar.”

“Well,” Patton wiped his eyes and smiled. “Just know that, even if we disagree sometimes, I’m rootin’ for ya… Kiddo.”

Dee chuckled and his slit eye seemed to sparkle mischievously. “I hate you so much right now.”

“I know.” Patton knelt to look out the cubby’s window and saw the rain had slowed to a light shower. “Do you want to help me check on the others?”

“Do you even have to ask?”

 Conjuring a bowler hat to his head, Dee took a final glance in the mirror before turning back to Patton. The moral side had his hand already outstretched to take the impulse directly to his room and Dee couldn’t help but smile; thankful to be setting up a more positive and functional relationship with the core side.

“Patton!” Dee and Patton’s faces dropped as the voice of Roman echoed faintly through the cubby. “Come on, Logan needs you.”

Dee grabbed Patton’s hand and the side sunk them down to his room, where Patton pulled open his common room door and ran straight to Logan’s open room. Dee froze in the hallway, unable to move his eyes past the blank wall opposite Logan’s door.

 **********************************************************************************

 Roman didn't bother closing his door as he stepped through, and he didn't dare turn his head to look in the direction of Virgil's door, as he walked towards Logan's room. His hand froze before landing on the handle as he considered what lay beyond the door. Fist raised, Roman knocked loudly on the door and pleaded for a reply; but only silence greeted him.

"Logan!" Roman knocked again, though he wasn't liking his chances of a sarcastic reply. "Come on, Lo. Don't make me come in there."

Although he spoke in a joking manner, Roman was truthfully worried to enter the room. He had been in the room before, but those visits were only very brief; barely enough time for him to be influenced in any way. However, he had seen Logan turn into a skipping rapper after spending 5 minutes in his room, which proved all their rooms had the potential to influence them. He couldn't imagine what effects Logan's room would have on him; especially considering he was already worked up and slightly weaker after starting the kingdoms adjustments.

 As the silence continued to stretch on, Roman swallowed his pride and tested the door handle. The door opened with ease and Roman peered in to investigate the neat office bedroom that he had seen over Logan's shoulder many times before.

"Logan? You in there?"

Roman lent into the room; his feet still not passing the entrance as he searched for any sign of the logical side.

"Ok Roman. Logan called for help and it is our duty to help him." Roman closed his eyes and took a deep breath to steady himself, "Any side effects are only temporary. If you could do it for Virgil, you can do it for Logan. Let’s go!"

Roman charged into the room as if he was walking through a wall of fire, rather than simply entering a room.

"Logan! Where are you?"

Roman called out as he opened the door to the small bathroom and then a small library of large books that he had never seen before. After quickly clearing those rooms, that left only Logan's door to his territory, a solid metal door with a keycode lock. Roman attempted the door handle and wasn't surprised to find it locked shut.

"Hey Logan! Let me in!" Pressing his ear against the surprisingly warm door, Roman could hear the faint sound of machinery and felt the throbbing in his head slowly intensify. "What sort of person calls for help but locks the hero out?"

Roman began pressing the buttons on the keypad randomly, hoping to accidently find the magic combination to open the door. Frustration mounting, he slammed his fists against the metal and was met with a cry of pain from the other side.

"Logan? Logan?!" Roman moved his ear around the door, trying to find a point where he could hear better. "Come on, Buddy, talk to me."

"Rrr-mmmn."

Roman lay on the ground alongside the door, ear still pressed against the metal as sweat ran down his face and his clothes absorbed the salty residue.

"Yeah. Yeah, it's me. Can you sink out, or at least open this door." Roman could hear Logan's strained groans, but nothing happened. "Ok. It's ok. Um... What should I do?"

Roman's heart raced and he swore the door was getting hotter as his mind started to race with possibilities of what was happening on the other side of the door.

"How do you think straight in this place!" Roman sat up and cupped his head in his hands. "There are just so many possibilities. Is this what you think like all day?"

As the ideas and possibilities continued to swirl in his mind, Roman became acutely aware of his pounding head and obscured vision.  

"Argh! Patton!" Roman squeezed his eyes shut tight as he tried to calm his mind and reduce the rooms influence, hoping the mindscape would carry his message to Patton. “Come on, Logan needs you.”

 Unable to get any relief, Roman lay back on the ground and tried to focus on Logan.

"C-can you ... Give m-me the code?"

"nnni--eeenn...ennn..."

 .

.

.

"Roman!" Patton raced into the room and leaned over the creative side with a look of intense concern. "What's going on? You are soaked."

"So are you," Roman replied and Patton realised he was still in his wet clothes.

"It was raining. Where's Logan?"

"Stuck in there. We nnneed a code." Roman squeezed his eyes shut as a wave of pain washed over him and his eyes burned from the light in the room.

Patton’s eyes glowed blue as he assessed Roman for injuries and recognised familiar symptoms that he wouldn’t be able to avert on his own.

"Dee! Can you get Roman out of here?" Patton called out to the hallway before laying on the other side of Roman to press his own ear against the door. "Logan? It's Patton. Can you tell me the code?"

"nnni--eeenn...ennn...wn-ty...s-x...tnnn"

 Dee managed to tear his eyes away from the wall to enter Logan's room at Patton's request. Noticing Roman on the ground, Dee walked over with purpose and pulled the sides arm over his shoulder to help raise him into a sitting position.

"Just so you know, this is going to hurt me more than you."

Roman didn't have time to respond before Dee teleported them straight from Logan's room to Roman's door. Roman gasped for air as his head swam from the movement and a sudden weight was lifted from his head, as his thoughts settled and blurred. Two hands steadied his shoulders as his body slid sideways against the wall.

"You good, Princey?

The world stabilised slowly, but Roman's heart ached as his mind misheard Virgil's voice calling him "Princey" rather than Dee's.

"Fine. I'm fine."

"That's an obvious lie, but I'll accept it." Dee looked over his shoulder to call back into Logan's room. "He's all good, Patton. How's Logan?"

 Patton thought hard about what Logan had mumbled, recognising that there were missing sounds in the words Logan was trying to communicate. Standing, he stared at the keypad and did his best to imagine what Logan would enter every day. Suddenly everything fell into place.

"I've got it!"

"Got what?" Dee called out in confusion.

"Nineteen, ten, twenty, sixteen. The day Thomas uploaded the first Sanders Sides video."

Patton keyed in the numbers and the door allowed him to pull it open effortlessly, revealing Logan's lab. The machinery sounds overpowered Patton’s senses and a stifling wave of heat hit him as he stepped inside to reach Logan's passed out form.

 .

.

.

The hallway lights dimmed, and Dee glanced around in confusion and worry. He wasn’t sure what it meant but knew it couldn’t be good.

“Hey guys? Care to share what is happening? I can’t sense Thomas yet.”

“It’s a…” Roman tried to use the wall to stand but quickly slid back down to the floor with a groan and a thud.

“W-w-woah.” Dee knelt and grabbed Roman’s shoulders again as the side mumbled incoherently. “Come on, Roman. You’re alright. You’re alright. Patton! I lied and I need your help!”

No reply came and Dee was torn between helping Roman, going to check on Patton, or fleeing before he became affected by the invisible force. His breathing increased as he struggled to decide with the pressure of the moment, until he heard footsteps coming from Roman’s room.

“Who’s there?”

“Hey Pal...” The impulse came through the door and knelt before Dee and Roman. “Geeze, you guys look like crap.”

“Thank you, Rage. I was just wondering what your opinion was.” Dee smiled, glad to see his friend in one piece. “Now, are you here to sass or to help?”

“Help, obviously.” Rage ran his fingers through his crimson brown hair, revealing a ruby iris in his right eye. “What do you need?”

“Go into Logan’s room and help Patton. I’m gonna…” Dee ran through his options in his head again. “I’m going to get Roman into his room.”

“I’m on it.”

Rage stood and headed into Logan’s room while Dee pulled Roman’s arm over his shoulders and attempted to stand.

"Let's go, Roman, help me out here." Huffed Dee, as he struggled to manage Roman's weight. "Don't make me teleport again."

"lll right."

Roman's voice was barely a whisper as he did his best to help Dee, despite his now wavering consciousness. Eventually the two were able to slowly stumble into Roman's room and Dee deposited the side on his bed. As soon as he was sure that Roman was safe, to a degree, Dee headed back out to Logan's room.

.

.

.

The room was so loud that Patton couldn't hear anything other than the scraping and whirring of machinery. The heat had Patton's glasses fogging as he knelt to roll Logan onto his back and assess the logical side. Talking was pointless due to the noise and the heat made it impossible for Patton to focus his influence or sink out, no matter how hard he tried. Realising healing or sinking out wasn’t an option, Patton stood and moved behind Logan so he could lift him into an upright position and drag him out of the lab.

Once safely out of the lab, Patton let Logan rest on the floor as he went to close the door and seal out the noise and heat. Patton was so focused on the task at hand, that he didn't sense Rage's presence until he turned back around and saw the impulse kneeling over Logan.

"Rage?"

"Yeah. Yeah, it's me." Rage remained focused on Logan, swiping his sweat soaked hair away from the sides face. "What is going on here?"

Patton rocked backwards slightly, but thankfully he was still close enough to the lab door that he didn't fall.

"It isn't something that you need to worry about."

Rage looked up and knitted his eyebrows together, fixing Patton with a firm stare as the moral side swayed again.

"Don't bullshit me, Pat. Logan and Roman are both out for the count, you can barely stand, and Logan's territory has turned into an oven. Spill!"

"I'll be fine once I'm out of here." Patton got Logan upright and pulled his arm over his shoulder; Rage instantly mimicked Patton's move on the other side so they could work together to lift Logan. "It's just a migraine headache."

"Bullsh...."

"He's telling the truth, Rage."

Dee entered the room as Rage and Patton reached Logan's bed and Rage set to making Logan comfortable. Dee stepped forward to support Patton as the side swayed again; leading the side out of the room and straight into Patton's own room.

"Thanks Dee." Patton sat on the edge of his bed and rested his face in his hands as his mind started to clear. "Logan's room can be a bit intense when he isn't feeling well." "That is a normal thing?" Rage questioned from the doorway. He hadn't had much to do with Patton in the past and wasn't sure of the influence of his room.

Patton sighed, "I'm not normally around that late into the situation. Generally, Logan has his room under control before the pain sets in."

"And Roman?" Asked Dee.

"Logan use to give Roman and Vir..." Patton swallowed and looked over at the questioning impulse. "He would let them know what was happening so they could prepare. Headaches make it hard to remain focused and think clearly, so the others have always been affected more than me. I will admit that...that was not normal."

"It's an after effect of ... Those two jumping, isn't it?" Rage offered. "Thomas is still in pain."

 Patton nodded and looked up to a large photo frame that sat on one of his shelves. The original image faded and was replaced with the view of Terrence and Joan helping Thomas onto his bed. Patton lowered himself back onto his own bed, recognising that Thomas had taken pain relief and was beginning to relax with the presence of friends.

"He will be ok, Kiddos." Eye lids heavy, Patton adjusted his position as he spoke. "The pain killers will help cool down Logan’s territory; Terrence and Joan will watch over Thomas; and Roman and I just need rest. I promise, it will all be ok."

Patton's breathing steadied as he fell asleep and Dee sighed, "Liar."

  Rage and Dee slowly made their way out to the hallway, and Rage walked over to sit and lean against the vacant wall. Dee watched as Rage sat and closed his eyes, still unable to fully process his feelings.

"You gonna sit with me, Deceit, or stare at me?"

"It's Dee." Rage opened his eyes at looked at his friend apologetically. "Just until I find a better name."

"I guess a lot has changed then, huh?" Rage closed his eyes again and Dee settled down next to him. "Guess that’s what happens when you get ripped apart and have to pull yourself back together again."

"True."

Rage opened his eyes and glanced over at Dee, who was fidgeting with his gloves like his childhood self. His mind flickered back to a faint memory of Survival and Virgil talking and identifying that Deceit had been a part of them.

"I guess it's harder for you. You haven't really been ... You, all this time."

Dee nodded.

"I think it's ok for you to feel a little lost right now." Dee stopped fidgeting but didn't look at Rage. "The whole mindscape his just as lost. A core side literally disappeared over the edge of the mindscape. I'd be worried if we didn't feel a little lost."

"Do you think they are really gone?" Now Dee turned to look at Rage. "Or will they come back like we did?"

"Guilt is looking into it."

"Wait!" Dee's eyes went wide. "Guilt is back?"

"Yeah. Woke up in the forest with him." "Where is he?"

"I left him to go search for the Oasis while I headed towards the kingdom. Got picked up by one of Roman's dragons and brought here to find you guys."

Dee went to stand but Rage grabbed his arm. "What are you doing? We need to help Guilt."

"Nah," Rage shook his head and smiled, "Roman's got it covered. His dragons are searching the open territories for any sign of Virgil, Depression, Hood or whoever. We need to be here for these idiots and Thomas. We started this..." Dee opened his mouth to argue but quickly closed it as he sensed it was the truth. "... So, let’s make sure this is finished."

 Dee settled comfortably next to Rage and looked between the three open room doors. Each room held a sleeping side. One side had their territory in turmoil due to a migraine headache; another unable to focus and function; and the final one was dealing with the sense of loss and general exhaustion. Rage and Dee sat guard, silently hoping a fourth door would miraculously appear and provide them with some sense of relief. As the minutes turned into hours, it became apparent that that wasn't going to happen any time soon. Dee looked down to where Rage had curled up to sleep and realised how thankful he was to still have Rage at his side. He only wished he could have had Anxiety and Hood there as well. Given recent revelations, he had a lot he wanted to make up for.

 **********************************************************************************

 Terrence stayed with Thomas as he slept, not wanting to leave just in case he woke up in a daze again. Joan floated in and out of the room to respond to and make phone calls. They made sure Thomas' parents were aware of what had happened, and they assured Joan that they were making the right call and would call the next day to check on things. Eventually, Joan switched their phone to ‘do not disturb’ and carefully joined Terrence and Thomas on the bed.

"All good?" whispered Terrence.

"Yeah. For now."

Thomas stirred slightly at the discussion, rolling over calmly and without any sign of pain on his face. Terrence smiled at Joan as the two felt the weight of their worries lift slightly and eventually, they too fell asleep.

Chapter index ----------- Next chapter 

End Note:

This was the chapter that just kept on growing. I felt my initial skeleton plan glossed over way too much, but I hope I didn’t go too far to the other end of the scale and overload it with too much information.

 Off topic note: The Selfishness v. Selflessness video was so good. I love getting more clues on Deceit and seeing his character develop. It is clear he has a message to pass on to Thomas but is still working on being able to deliver that message/lesson. It makes me wonder what else is at play and stopping him from actually talking. Why all the riddles, Deceit? Even Virgil is showing a more hidden past. We knew it was there, but it is now so obvious that he is still holding his cards close to his chest. Given this fic already predicted a fedora phase, and now a (*minor future chapter spoiler*) Twitch Charity stream, could any of the other characters become canon????  I kind of hope not...but only because that would just be way too freaky.

Tags 

@atseipl

[thinkingoutlouddblog]

The Third Floor (1/?) - b.b.

Pairing: mobster!Bucky x neighbour!reader

Summary: You move to an apartment in Brooklyn seeking a fresh start, but all you get is an asshole neighbour. Little do you know, there is much more to him than meets the eye.

Warnings: none yet but there will be some in chapters to come!

A/N: Okay I have this whole series (pretty much) planned out and I’m super excited! There isn’t much mob-ishness to this chapter but trust me its coming. I have big plans! I hope you enjoy!

You hadn’t always hated Bucky Barnes.

Initially, you thought he would make a good friend.

You had moved into an apartment building in Brooklyn, seeking a fresh start. You had few friends and even less family, so you figured moving somewhere new and getting a new job would be the best possible way to create a new life for yourself. One a bit brighter than what you had been living.

The trouble was you didn’t really know how to make new friends in a place where you knew no one. Sure the people at work were lovely, but you couldn’t exactly become best friends with them overnight. And you didn’t really know where else to go to make friends. At all.

It had been one of the hottest days of the year, the day you saw your opportunity.

Despite your best attempts to get the air con working, it only seemed to be wheezing mildly cooler air into apartment 31 as you unpacked the last of your boxes. Despite having kept probably less than half of your old possessions from your old apartments, you had still managed to procrastinate unpacking almost everything.

“Thank god,” you sighed to yourself as you emptied the very last box.

You wiped the sweat from your brow before flattening all of the empty boxes and gathering them all up into your arms - not wanting to have to make two trips up and down the stairs to get to the recycling bin. Sadly for you, the elevator in your new apartment seemed to be constantly in and out of service, even in the limited two weeks you had been there.

You had been nearly running down the stairs, trying to reach the recycling bin before half the boxes slipped out of your grasp when you saw him, marching up the stairs with two boxes in arms looking infinitely more graceful than you currently did.

You didn’t even get to see his face as you continued speeding down the stairs, walking as close to the wall as possible to avoid running straight into him.

It wasn’t until you made it back up the stairs, having had to pick all your boxes back up after dropping them just a few feet away from your destination, that you got your first good look at James Buchanan Barnes. He was just exiting apartment 32, closing the door of the only other apartment on your floor, floor three.

His hair was pulled back into a bun, with a few strands of hair framing his face. He was dressed casually, in a navy blue shirt and jeans. His eyes widened slightly as he turned from his door to make his way back down the stairs, presumably to get more boxes, and locked eyes with you.

His blue eyes felt as though they were piercing you as the both of you just stood there for a short moment, and your heartbeat accelerated involuntarily, somehow more heat rising to your cheeks than was already present.

The moment was quickly broken, however, as he averted his gaze and continued his path back towards the stairs before you had the opportunity to formulate something to say.

As he thundered down the stairs, clearly in a rush to get moved in, you walked back into your own apartment, thinking to yourself.

Here was your opportunity.

Here was your opportunity to make friends. You clearly had common ground. You two were both new, maybe you could be in it together. Learning the area together. Both having the comfort of someone who is in the same boat as you. You could help him get settled in. Maybe he’d have friends he could introduce you to. Before you’d know it, maybe you’d have a whole group of friends, and stop leaning so heavily on Natasha, your best (and pretty much only) friend for social support.

It also didn’t hurt that he was one of the more attractive men you’ve come across in your life.

So, the morning after he moved in you got ready for work half an hour early, with the intention of having a quick chat with your new neighbour on your way out. Just a friendly greeting letting him know who you were. That was all you had in mind.

You took a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves, before you knocked twice on his door. There was a long pause, and just as you raised your hand to knock again the door swung open revealing the brown-haired man you had seen in passing the day before.

He looked to be getting ready to go to work himself, with his dress shirt only half buttoned up and waiting to be tucked into his pants.

For a moment you said nothing, just standing there with your mouth half open. There was something about him that caused this particular pull in your chest, you just couldn’t quite place it.

“Can I help you?” He finally broke the silence, scowl on his face.

“Oh yes, sorry! I’m Y/N, I live in the other apartment on this floor, just across the hall,” you extend a hand for him to shake as you speak.

He does nothing but look at it and give you a one word reply of, “Bucky,” by way of introduction.

You refused to be put off by his cold demeanour, powering through and attempting to break the ice. “I’m so sorry to disturb you without any warning, especially when you seem to be getting ready to go to work but I just wanted to say that I’m new here too. I moved in only a couple weeks before you did.”

“And?”

You blinked rapidly, becoming increasingly irked by his cold (lack of) manners.

I’m sure he’s just having an off day, you thought to yourself. I did come over here uninvited while he’s clearly in a rush.

“Well I just thought since we’re both new around here, maybe we could stick together as we get to know the area. I’ll be honest I don’t have a lot of friends around here and so I thought since you might be in the same boat,” you smiled at him, hoping to break his expression of distaste.

“I have plenty of friends thank you. I certainly don’t need you as one,” he rolled his eyes.

Before you could react to his harsh words, your mouth falling open in shock, he had turned his back and slammed his door behind him.

By the time you reached work fifteen minutes later, your cheeks were still flaming with anger and embarrassment.

Two days later, somehow, you were on your way back to his apartment.

The thought of giving into the temptation of hating Bucky was enticing, but you pushed it aside. You had clearly caught him at a bad time. Sure it didn’t really warrant that reaction but everyone has said stuff they don’t mean in an off moment. You were sure he regretted it and was just too ashamed to face you.

Besides, it wasn’t like you had many other options in the way of making friends.

Your best friend Natasha was a workaholic, working for a prestigious criminal law firm, so she didn’t exactly have the time to be maintaining friendships. Like she was all you had, you were pretty much all she had. This, however, did not bother Natasha as it did you.

So after two days of cooling off, you decided to give Bucky a second chance. As some kind of peace offering you baked a batch of cupcakes, iced them a happy yellow colour, hoping it would brighten his mood, and carried them carefully to his apartment Saturday morning (praying to God he didn’t work weekends so you wouldn’t catch him at a bad time again).

After taking a deep breath, trying once again to steel your nerves, you knocked twice on his door. Seconds later, the door swung open. This time, you were greeted with a smile and a laugh.

Off to a better start already, you thought to yourself.

He was in grey sweatpants and a navy blue t-shirt, clearly demonstrating you had caught him at a much better time. His shoulders were relaxed as he laughed, but you should have noticed immediately how little the smile truly extended.

“You just don’t know when to give up do you, doll?”

The smile that had crept up your own lips halted as you took in his demeanour. He crossed his arms over his chest, and you quickly noticed how his smile appeared more as a mocking smirk.

“I just thought I’d caught you at a bad time the other day so-“

“Yes,” he cut you off, “you certainly did catch me at a bad time the other day but that’s not the way I politely told you to fuck off.” The smirk never left his face, taunting you with the amusement he took from dashing your hopes of ever making friends. “I tried to make the message clear then, but I’ll make it very plain now. I don’t want the friendship of the sad, lonely, little girl who can’t make any friends for herself. I don’t want to sleep with you either if that’s what you’ve really been coming over here for. And I certainly don’t want your fucking cupcakes.”

Your blood boiled at his every word, and rather than trying to push it aside, you focused solely on your anger, feeling it as wholly as you could. God knows if you didn’t all you would feel was the hurt and embarrassment his words caused.

Both of you stood there in silence for a moment, but you were quick in your reaction.

“Oh,” you maintained a calm demeanour, despite how you truly felt. “You don’t want my cupcakes?”

Before he could say a word, you picked one up off the plate and shoved it straight into his face.

“Tough shit, asshole.”

Bucky stood there in shock, yellow frosting smeared over half of his face but you just turned your back and raised a single middle finger in his direction as you walked back down the hall.

The satisfaction you felt lasted a solid fifteen minutes before the sting of his words became more and more prominent.

At first you were laughing to yourself at not only the boldness of your actions but the look on his previously smug face as the cupcake dropped from his face to the floor, leaving a trail of frosting in its wake. But soon your laugh faded, and the energy in your step faded as you paced the apartment.

Sad, lonely, little girl. His words replayed in your head. Can’t make any friends for yourself.

His words shouldn’t matter to you. They shouldn’t. He was just a bitter asshole who didn’t know you. But for some reason, it felt like he did know you. Or at least you knew him.

You shook your head at yourself. He didn’t know you at all. But the truth to his words cut you where it hurt most. Angry, hurt tears sprung to your eyes and you wiped them furiously. Not wanting to shed tears over someone who was clearly not worth your time.

The truth was, however, the tears were not just for him. It was for how alone you felt in every aspect of your life. You knew no one, no one but Nat and you couldn’t help but feel completely lost.

As you grabbed one of the cupcakes you had put so much care and effort into, the tears finally won out as you shoved it into your mouth.

This would be the last breakdown, you told yourself as you relished in your emotions. Starting tomorrow, you’re a whole new, stronger person.

You did pretty well at keeping your promise to yourself.

First thing the next morning, you called Nat and demanded she go to lunch with you. “Don’t give me the work excuse, Nat. Even lawyers should get to take Sunday off,” you had told her.

“I don’t know, Y/N, I just-“

“Nope! No excuses. You work yourself too hard, Nat. You’re worrying me,” you lost your joking tone on the last sentence.

Yes, you did just want to catch up with your best friend. But also, you wanted her to take a break and stop working so hard.

There was a deep sigh over the other end of the line. “Alright, I’ll see you in two hours.”

You cheered to yourself, happy to be leaving your apartment for something that wasn’t work.

Two and a half hours later, you and Natasha were chatting away over lunch when you decided to tell her about your new neighbour.

You spared no details, but spun everything to be some huge comedy to you, making light of the situation and hoping it would make you feel better about the whole thing.

“And then he says,” you laugh, getting ready to dive into your mocking imitation of Bucky, ‘“I don’t wanna be friends with a sad lonely little girl who can’t make friends for herself.’”

“He really said that?” Nat winced, seemingly failing to find the humour in your comedic masterpiece that was the retelling of an awful story.

“Yes he really said that, but just wait for the real kicker,” you said, getting excited for your grand finale, “he told me, like the unappreciative bastard he is, that he didn’t want my cupcakes. So I grabbed one off the tray and I smashed it into his face.”

Nat nearly choked on the sip of coffee she had been drinking.

At first you thought maybe she disapproved, and you began to reconsider your actions. Maybe you had taken it too far.

That is, until, Natasha dissolved into laughter.

“Oh my god, I’ve never been prouder of you!” she cried in between laughs, you yourself soon laughing along with her.

That afternoon you went home, still smiling to yourself some hours later. You couldn’t remember the last time you saw Nat that happy.

You officially hated Bucky Barnes.

It was 7AM on a Saturday morning, two weeks exactly since the fateful cupcake incident, and you couldn’t even hear your own thoughts, the music blasting out of his apartment was so loud.

It had been a busy week for you at work, working hard to prove your worth in your new position in a week that was already flat out and now, on your weekend, all you wanted to do was sleep. Which was, sadly, hard to do when all you could hear was the banging of drums and shredding of guitars in whatever heavy-metal screamo song Bucky was playing for, probably, no particular reason other than to piss you off.

Honestly, you had barely seen in him in the two weeks since you had shoved that yellow frosted cupcake into his face, but on the occasions you had crossed paths, you had both given and received the meanest glares of your life. Never missing the muttered, “bitch,” under his breath following your mumbled “asshole”. Unlike two weeks ago, his words just rolled off your back like the rain now. Which is why, in this moment, you were not afraid to storm on over to his apartment and tell him to shut the hell up.

So that’s exactly what you did.

Hair a mess, still wearing your pyjamas (and certainly not your less embarrassing ones, either) you stomped on out of your apartment and over to Bucky’s, arriving at his front door in a huff.

Once more, you knocked (or rather slammed) on his front door twice, ensuring you were more than loud enough for him to hear you. You were almost going to slam your fist against the door once more before the door opened, just slightly, the door chain only allowing the tiniest opening for you to see Bucky’s face through.

“What the hell do you want this time?” Bucky sneered, as though it wasn’t obvious.

“First of all, I want you to lose the attitude. Secondly, I want you to turn this god awful music off or at the very least turn it down. Significantly,” you smiled sarcastically.

“Well since you asked so nicely…” he fawned contemplation of your request, “no can do.” He mimicked your sarcastic smile.

Just as you opened your mouth, ready to fire off a rebuttal, he slammed the door in your face.

You groaned angrily, quickly smashing your fist against the door as though it would cause him to change his mind.

He only turned the music up louder.

You just shook your head and stormed right on back to your room, burying your head underneath a pile of pillows in an attempt to muffle the noise.

Bucky, on the other hand, smiled to himself upon the door being shut before strolling casually back to his living room.

“So where were we?” He asked his guest, a glint in his eye.

A/N: Please give me some feedback! It’s been a while since I’ve sat down and written something (and even longer since I wrote a bucky fic) so any feedback would be wonderful!

My inbox /// my masterlist

[rambling-at-midnight]

Protection: Part 11

The clock’s red numbers read 2:32.

He should be rejoicing—he’s been dreaming about this night for years, and indeed, the sight of your form under his blankets is without a doubt the best thing he’s ever seen in his life. Except now he only has six days left with you, and then after that you probably won’t ever want to see him again. Maybe this is only a one-night thing for you. Maybe he’d been wrong and you didn’t have any feelings for him, you just think he’s attractive.

No, this just made Tom love you more, and that is a very, very bad thing. He should have contained himself, should have remembered the games you two have been playing for years, dangling from strings like puppets, and now he knows the strings are all tied up.

He remembers the first and only time he saw you kill someone at one of the galas. He’d been striking up a deal with someone who was way too cocky for their own good. Tom can’t even remember their name, but he does know they’re dead now. He thinks it was you who did the honors, but he isn’t precisely sure.

Now he knows that the gala had been specifically set up so that you could kill some high-status asshole that’d pissed off your father, but he hadn’t known that then. He’d seen you too close with a man too old, your arm draped over his shoulders as you leaned against the wall and he invaded your personal space. Your face had been creaseless, lips pouting playfully as you looked up at him, and that’s the first sign Tom should have noticed—should have seen you were enjoying this like a game you were sure you were going to win. But he hadn’t, and he’d stiffened and the glass in his hand had cracked a little bit before Haz swooped in to pluck it out of his grip.

“What’s your deal?” his second-in-command had muttered, and Tom had merely jerked his head in the direction of you and whatever guy had caught your fancy. Haz’s eyes had widened with surprise and then he had smirked at Tom. “Ah, your unrequited love.”

“I don’t—” Tom had started but it was a feeble attempt and the both of them knew it. He turned to look at you, and then the man’s back had arched, your arm jerking forward and then backward in a split second. For a second Tom was confused as to what was happening, until you had shoved the man away from you, any flirting gone from your face, and the man had toppled over with a red flower spreading across his shirt. You crouched down to wipe your knife on his shirt before tucking it back into your sleeve.

The whole ballroom had erupted with applause as your father stepped forward to whisper to the dying man one last thing.

Tom, bewildered, met Haz’s gaze only to see his friend was just as confused as he was. Tom scanned the crowds for his father and saw him clapping, a polite half-smile on his face. He caught his eye and Dominic had shook his head ever so slightly to say not now.

Much to Tom’s relief, the gala was over shortly after. He wasn’t shocked or appalled by the violence, no. It was more… the exact opposite. Dom had led him and Haz away from the building and into their car, and only once they were inside did he start to talk. His voice was low and furious as he said, “You’re lucky Y/F/N didn’t see you two not clapping. Do you know what he could do to you? He could sic that attack-bitch on you right in front of me and I wouldn’t be able to say anything.”

“Did everyone know what that party was about except for us?” Tom had snapped right back.

Haz had shifted and sighed but neither Holland paid him any mind.

“No,” Dom had retorted sharply. “Nobody knew it was anything special, but you should have been able to figure out immediately that the Y/L/Ns were calling the shots during that social. And either way, anytime Y/N does anything, applaud her.”

Tom rolls out of bed as quietly as he can, holding his breath when he hears you turn over, and starts to pull his pants on when you speak up behind him, all gravelly voice and mussed hair. “Is 2:35 the general time you kick your… girls out of bed?”

Something in his gut twitches at the sound of your scratchy voice and he knows that if he turns around, he won’t be able to stop himself from getting back in the bed. Tom ignores the pause in your question, wondering if you’ll ever get your head out of your ass and figure out that he’s been in love with you for years, and pulls on a shirt before muttering, “Just getting a drink. Stay if you want.” Fuck, why did I say that? Now she’ll think I want her to leave. Heart in his throat, Tom waits and hopes you don’t listen to his dumb ass.

You’re silent for a long time before starting to get up as well. Tom’s heart sinks as he listens to you pulling on your clothes while he pours himself a drink. God, he regrets this contract and this deal and his fucking feelings and you in general.

When you leave, you slam the door so hard one of Tom’s bottles falls over and rolls off his desk. He slams his empty cup on the surface, vaguely feeling like he’d made a mistake but not sure what.

Out of every mistake he’s made these past two weeks, which one is the biggest fuck-up?

At least with you (apparently) angry with him, you won’t be hurt when he makes the deal. At least he got one night with you, which might make these feelings go away.

He buries his face in his hands and wonders why, tonight of all nights, he feels like he’s going to cry.

Two guards stand outside the interrogation room when Tom arrives, which is the first sign that something is wrong—guards don’t guard that room unless someone’s in the room with the interrogee. The second sign that something is off is the jolt that one of them makes when he walks closer—a movement almost like he was about to stop Tom, which makes the mobster make a mental note to fire him later. Maybe both of them, if Haz isn’t interrogating the man right now and they’re wasting his money and manpower.

Tom’s fingers twitch when the guard that had moved clears his throat and mutters, “Sir? We were given explicit orders from Mr. Osterfield to, um… not let you inside.” His voice trails off at the end, knowing that his decision was a stupid one.

He doesn’t know how close Tom is to shooting him to let out a little bit of his anger, and only years of trained self-discipline stops him from doing so. The paperwork really is quite tedious. “And why is that?” he hisses, eyes slitted.

The guard, although taller than Tom, seems much smaller in that moment when he replies, “We didn’t—don’t—ask.”

Damn right you don’t, Tom thinks viciously. “Get out of my way,” he snarls with a jerk of his head and the men lurch to the side like he had moved them with telekinesis by moving his head. He pushes the door open angrily, saying, “Haz, we agreed to start at 10, which is in five—” The air next to his right ear moves and a knife suddenly appears in the door frame along with a stinging sensation in the helix of his ear.

He resists reaching up to touch it. It would give you too much satisfaction.

As it is, some primal emotion twists your features as you see the blood trickling down his ear to his neck. It’ll stain his perfect, expensive shirt and suit and he’ll care about that more than he cares about you. Anything to make him feel a little bit of the empty feeling in your stomach that is convincing you he scooped out your intestines with a spatula.

After a moment of the two of you frozen, Tom by the door and taking in the scene and you leaning forward with your hand extended, you straighten and clear your face of all emotion.

“Tom…” Haz starts and trails off, standing between you and Tom with hands outstretched as if he would be able to stop either of you from killing the other. Tom would like nothing other than to apologize to you, but the stone-cold look on your face, except for your eyes, which are sparkling with a dangerous combination of pain and hate, stop him. “We’re done, so you can go…” he continues awkwardly, shifting a bit so Tom doesn’t see the person in the chair behind him. As if Tom wouldn’t notice the movement. As if he could block out the whole gruesome sight.

Your hands twitch when you see him staring at them. You wear gloves of blood but the metal of your brass knuckles still shines in the fluorescent lights.

The silence is broken when Tom clears his throat and asks, “Is he still alive?”

Harrison turns to you, the same question in his eyes, and you just shrug. Now you’ve broken eye contact with the mobster you can’t seem to look him in the eyes again. Trying to maintain a cool, aloof air, you turn around and pick up the paper you’d written the results on, leaving bloody fingerprints. Good. Maybe whenever he looks at it he thinks of you, remembers that his days are numbered.

Dimly you realize you’re being immature. Ignoring and vowing to kill someone because of a heartbreak is pure Girls You Couldn’t Stand Reading About As A Kid. You take consolation in that you probably won’t kill him. You’ll probably get away as fast as you can, and running away is just as immature.

Well, nobody ever said your father could raise an emotionally stable child.

You can feel your glass splintering under the weight of staying quiet, but what would you say if you screamed at him? What had you honestly been expecting? You’d heard whispers during the galas of the girls Tom had bedded and left or kicked out. You’d only been hoping for it to be different for you because… well, it’s you, and nobody ever hopes to be a one-night stand for a dude you like—except you don’t like Tom.

You exit the door while shoving the blood-stained papers into Tom’s stomach, not caring if he catches them, and leave the two boys alone.

“What did you do?” Harrison asks quietly, viewing the corpse behind him. Considering the damage done to his body, he’s surprised he’d stayed alive as long as he had. It must have been something you’d been trained on when your father was still around.

“She thought I was kicking her out,” Tom replies, studying the papers you’d shoved into his hand. The bloody fingerprints are smeared. “I don’t know why she would have cared, anyway; I was just a one-night stand to her. I’m pretty sure she’s completely insane.”

Haz scoffs. “What are you, blind?”

“What?”

“If you really think that was only a one-night stand for her, then you’re blind, lying to yourself, or both.”

Tom shakes his head. “She doesn’t—she doesn’t.”

“She does.” Haz shakes his head in disbelief. “Why are you so insistent that she doesn’t?”

“Why would she?” Tom shrugs helplessly. “I kidnapped her and in a few days she’ll be back with her dad.”

Haz narrows her eyes. “You’re planning to kill her?”

“What? No.” Tom shakes his head. “I thought I told you. Y/F/N just faked his death because of threats against him. He couldn’t neutralize them without being presumed dead. He’s planning on resurfacing at the party in six days.”

“So Y/N doesn’t have a price on her head?”

“Oh, she does. It’s a dual-purpose party.”

“Why are you of all people hosting Y/F/N’s coming-back party?”

“We owed him a few favors, so we helped kill him, and now we’re bringing him back. That was part of the deal. Protecting Y/N was also part of the deal.”

“What happens after that?”

“Presumably, no more contact between us and the Y/L/Ns. I am more than happy to be rid of them.”

@littlemarvelqueen @musical-whovian @lemirabitur @childofcrystals @bubbles1642 @annymcervantes

[catlady1986]

THE BEST SMELL IN THE WORLD IS THAT OF THE ONE YOU LOVE.

Chapters: 8/9 Fandom: Final Fantasy XV Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Gladiolus Amicitia/? Characters: Gladiolus Amicitia,  Noctis Lucis Caelum, Prompto Argentum, Ignis Scientia, background characters, others to appear later Additional Tags: ABO, Soulmates, Language, Blood, Depression, Angst, Referenced Masturbation, Deviant Behavior, Blood    

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The big day had finally arrived and the entire city was bursting with life from the celebrations going on. Thankfully everything was going off without a hitch and everyone was having fun. Especially the birthday boy himself and Gladio can’t help but smile at his happy prince being a goof with Prompto, gorging himself on the food Ignis brings over, and dragging the king to dance with him despite the elder not knowing how to do the moves properly. It was great.

But that wouldn’t last for long.

Noct had just finished eating his second helping of cake and was slumped down in his chair, a hand rested upon his stomach in contentment and a huge smile on his face. Gladio snorts and shakes his head, getting a cheeky grin from the newly turned eighteen-year-old.

“Leave me be, it’s my birthday, I can eat all I want.”

“Until you put on a few pounds and can’t fit into your jeans then you’ll complain and blame me for not stopping you.”

“Nah, I’ll just wear sweatpants.”

“Or you can come jog with me early in the morning.”

“Eww no, you get up before seven and that’s inhuman.” Noctis complains and tries sitting up but finds it difficult. He lets out a sigh and tries again yet still can't get up, so he just smiles with his hands out. “Help your prince up, Gladio.”

“Jeez, bossy.” Gladio snorts but does as asked. “Is this what I’m going to have to deal with once you marry and become pregnant?”

Noct turns red and huffs at the older man, but then regains his grin. "Yeah, that’s right. You can rub my feet and bring me food in the middle of the night too.”

“Hell no, that’ll be your spouse’s job.”

There’s a momentary fall in Noct’s smile and Gladio too feels a slight twinge in his chest but he pushes it away as the smile returns. Noctis takes hold of Gladio’s hand once again and gives him a tug towards the dance floor.

“Let’s go dance for a while, burn off some calories.”

“So you can eat more cake?”

“Jerk.”

The two teens step out onto the floor where others are already dancing, a slow song currently playing so Gladio has Noctis take the lead and the two sway together to the melody. Amber eyes peer down into deep blue ones, them seemingly shimmering from the lights radiating from the chandeliers. A strange heat builds in the young shield’s chest and cheeks, his heart thumps in his chest, and he feels like he’s floating on water. Noct smiles tenderly at him, the prince’s own cheeks turning a shade of red as he presses his small frame closer to Gladio’s.

“Hey.” Noct begins, a smile still on his face and eyes half lidding.

“Hey what?”

“I’ve been sniffed by everyone here who hadn’t tried before and not a single one showed any interest outside of the normal creepers who are only interested because I'm a prince.”

“Could be the hanky.”

Noctis shakes his head. “My dad made me remove it when we came to the banquet hall and wash my neck, said that there were more than enough guards to keep me safe and I should start searching for my soulmate. But none of them are.”

“Hmm, you might not have met them yet.” Gladio says and frowns as a slight tightness forms in his stomach.

“Could be.” The teen snuggles closer and rests his head against the larger man’s broad chest. “Or maybe I did and they just can’t tell.”

“Huh?” Gladio stares down in question at the teen who looks up with a smile and the older man feels a strange tingling sensation in his gut.

But then a wince and soft gasp from Noct halts everything.

“Hey, you okay?”

“I-I think s-ngh. Ow, ow.” Noctis cringes and clutches his stomach, trembling slightly and taking deep breaths to try calming himself. It seems to work. “Stomach cramped up.”

“You wanna go sit and rest?”

“Yeah.”

Gladio escorts the prince back over to his seat and calls over a waiter for some water.

“You want me to get the king or someone?”

“N-no. I’m fine.”

“Noctis?” a concerned voice calls out. “Are you unwell?”

Gladio turns to see Ignis looking with great concern at the young prince, yet they turn to irritation when his green eyes shift to Gladio.

“Stomach just started to hurt, that’s all. Nothing to worry about.”

Ignis furrows his brows. “You’re pasty and sweating, that is something to worry about.” he tuts and budges past Gladio to place a hand against Noct’s forehead. “You’re burning up. We should inform your father and call it a night. Don’t want to stress your body out any further.”    

“It's fine, the party ends in an hour, I can manage. Plus it wouldn't look good for the prince to leave his own party, would it?”

“I suppose but if you are truly not feeling well then-” Ignis stops talking and becomes tense.

Prompto bounds over gleefully, snapping a couple of photos of the three before looking with concern at his friend.

"Are you okay buddy? You look sick."

"Just my stomach, no big deal."

"Huh, maybe the seafood got to you. You were packing that away earlier."

"Hmm, maybe." Noct says and winces while holding his stomach. "I'm gonna head to the bathroom, maybe a good throw up will do the trick."

"Please don't make yourself purge, that's not good for your esophagus." Ignis says and rests his hands on the teen's shoulders.

"It's fine." Noct shucks off the other man's hands and stands.

"I'll come with you in case you feel worse and need help."

"It's fine I said. Just relax and go dance with someone, like maybe Prompto."

Ignis goes rigid as the young blonde turns a deep red and looks to him with a soft smile. Gladio can't help but smirk at this.

"I-I am really not in the mood too right now. I should probably go check the food for spoilage though, just in case that is what's bothering your stomach."

Noctis lets out a sigh as Ignis quickly excuses himself, then slowly stands from his seat. "I'll be right back."

"Okay, enjoy your puke." Prompto teases and gets a soft punch to his arm.

The blonde's smile slowly fades as he turns to scan the crowd before landing on Ignis, the man watching intently as the caterers check the food.

"Hey," Gladio begins and snickers as Prompto jumps suddenly. "why don't we go for a quick dance while we wait for Noct? Who knows, maybe Iggy will be in the mood after watching us shred it up."

"Oh, yeah that sounds great." he agrees and follows Gladio. "So umm, Gladio, Noct was telling me you've been doing research about cues and stuff for soulmates?"

"Yeah." Gladio knows where this is going and sadly the answer he has isn't what the teen probably wants to hear. "Is this about you and Ignis?"

Prompto perks up at this, a red tint shining on his freckled cheeks. "Uh huh. I just, I know I felt something when he hugged and sniffed me that time. And ever since, I can't get him out of my head. But he avoids me. I didn't know if you by chance noticed anything?"

Gladio frowns. He has but Ignis has refuted it vehemently despite all the signs. Should he say yes or will that just cause more trouble?

"I umm, don't-"

Prompto sighs and frowns. "Is it because I'm a Beta? Alpha and Beta couples are seen as undesirable, even more than two Alphas. Maybe I'm just not good enough."

This incenses Gladio, feeling deeply sorry for the teen. "If that's true then he's missing out. Noctis gushes over how cool you are and what a blast it is to hang out with you."

"He probably wouldn't if I didn't let him win at our games sometimes." the blonde chuckles.

"Yeah he can be a sore loser at times, but he gets over it."

"He talks about you a lot too when we hang out."

Gladio's heart thumps rapidly in his chest at hearing this. "Oh? Probably complaining what a hardass I am with his training."

"Sometimes, though he does talk about your situation and how unfair it is, that you're a great guy and stuff. He likes you a lot."

"Well I'd hope so, I am his shield and we'll be spending most of our time together, even more once he becomes king."

Prompto snorts and shakes his head. "Hey, I'm gonna let you in on something, but don't tell Noct I told you. Okay?"

"Uh, okay?"

"Noct thinks that you and him are- Huh?"

Gladio follows the blonde's gaze over, seeing Noctis rush from the bathroom in a frenzy, his eyes wet and red.

"Noct wha-"

"I want to go home." he whimpers out, body trembling and a look of pain etched onto his face.

"What?" Gladio catches the teen as he begins to collapse with a soft cry, holding him protectively close as people begin to take notice. "I'm not taking you home, you need to go to the hospital." he says and looks to Cor as the man rushes over. "Marshal, we need an ambulance."

"Easy now." Cor says with calmness yet his eyes give away his concern. "Wha-" He stops, nostrils flaring momentarily and face falls to horror. "I smell blood. Start escorting the guests out and get the medical staff, now!"

Noctis lets out a sharp cry and clutches onto Gladio tightly, his hold body quakes as he shifts his legs around, blood smearing across the marble floor. Terror fills the young shield along with guilt, feeling he had failed in keeping his prince safe. But who could have hurt him? He only went to the bathroom and there was someone stationed in there. Or was it something else?

The king and his shield rush over, Regis' face looking horrified at his son's pain as he drops to the floor and takes him from Gladio, cradling his boy in his arms.

"Shh, my son. I have you."

"Dad, it hurts."

Monica rushes over and begins to asses the prince with Ignis right behind her, the young man looking harried while wringing his hands together tightly.

"Majesty, I believe it'd be wiser to forgo the ambulance and have the prince driven to the hospital asap." she says, trying to remain calm despite the cries coming from Noctis after she touched his swollen abdomen during her quick exam for wounds. "His malady is internal and we shouldn't delay getting him medical attention."

"I, I'll drive." Ignis offers with a panicked time n his voice.

"No, Cor will."

"Please, let me. I need to make sure he is all right and gets there safely. I won't leave him."

"Sciencia, this isn't the time or place to argue. Cor has driven under stressful situations before and we'll keep everyone informed as things unfold."

Noctis lets out a soft cry as he turns to the other man. "Take Prompto home for me, please. I don't want him to have to wa-lk." he says and cringes.

"Noct, please. I want to stay with you, I need to stay with you in your time of need. It’s my right as your-"

“Enough!” The king relinquishes his hold to his son back to Gladio, his face going deeply ridged. "Gladiolus. Please take Noctis to my car with Cor, I shall be there in a moment. Keep him safe and comfortable."

"Understood, your majesty." Gladio says and as carefully as he can, lifts Noctis and cradles him as he follows Cor and Monica out of the room, leaving only his father, the king, and Ignis.

As he moves away from the doorway, he hears something rarely ever heard, the angry tone of the king. Though he can't quite make out what is being said, he does hear one thing that makes him almost want to smile in spite, but he also feels sadness in his heart.

"We know who his soulmate is and it is not you. So cease this nonsense."

But how could it be? Was it something known from his birth and kept hidden? There was a rumor the crystal revealed things, so maybe that? Or was it a ploy to get Ignis to settle?

"Gladio."

The young shield snaps out of his thoughts and looks down at the paled teen in his arms. "We're almost at the car Noct, don't worry, you'll be okay."

"I told my dad, about everything."

Everything? What did that mean?

Gladio wouldn't get an answer just yet, them arriving at the car. He sets Noctis on the seat with Monica, the woman preparing a shot of pain medicine for him that she injects into his arm. The king and Clarus arrive not much later, Regis giving Gladio his thanks as he sits next to his son.

"Gladiolus," Clarus begins, resting his hand on his son's shoulder. "head on home and let your mother know what is going on, not Iris though. She was already upset she couldn't come to the party being sick, don't want to make her worried."

"Okay, please keep me posted when you can."

"I will."

Gladio watches as the car drives off, feeling a deep sinking in his gut and pain in his chest. Then to make things worse since it wasn't already, he has a bad sneezing fit the entire way home that makes him dizzy and almost fainted a few times. Sleep doesn't come to him either, too worried about Noctis to relax, even when his mother makes tea for him. Hours pass by without word on the teen's condition, Gladio getting more panicked as the time ticks away to the wee hours of the next day. Then the phone rings and Gladio feels his stomach turn as his father breaks the news.

[royalnugget42]

The Blue Paladin

Short fic based on THIS cool AU  

https://inomana.tumblr.com/post/159586928118/space-pirate-au

Check them out here! @inomana​

Feel free to leave comments on how to improve my writing, or other AU’s I could write for. Enjoy!

Btw I use female pronouns for Pidge even though its supposed to be the first episode because honestly using male pronouns feels so fucking weird.

Keith groaned as he and Hunk walked back into the throne room. It turns out that planet wasn’t nearly as “peaceful” as Coran had told them. Pidge and Shiro were already there waiting for them. They said their mission had been difficult, too, but Keith had a sneaking suspicion it hadn’t been. All four of them turned to Coran, who was explaining the situation.

“All right everyone, now this may be a bit more challenging than the last two.”

“More challenging than that?” Hunk asked incredulously. “We barely survived that last trip!”

“Why, where are we going Coran? Is it controlled by Galra or something?” Pidge asked.

“Nope. I’m afraid to say the Blue Lion is in the hands of some rather nasty looking pirates. I’ve had a couple run-ins with some of their lot before. Remember that awful time we had at that Unilu swapmeet, Allura?”

Allura seemed to sense a long winded story approaching. “Yes, yes, get to the point Coran, we have limited time here!” she said, quickly shutting him up.”

“Er, right. The point is that we need to get the lion and get out before we arouse too much suspicion. And, there’s the fact that we have no one to pilot the blue lion.”

“Because we are not sure who will pilot the lion, we will need to be able to get it without piloting it, which will undoubtedly be a hassle if its shield is up,” Allura added.

“Quite so! This means that one of you will need to enter the ship, sneak around until you find the cargo bay, and open the doors so that we can get the lion!”

Shiro and Lance both looked immediately to Pidge. She hung her head, sighing as she realized there was only one person up to the job.

“Coran, are you sure we shouldn’t use our lions?” Hunk asked for the third time.

“Yes! We can’t just blow them out of the sky, they could have prisoners onboard. These rotten gangs are infamous for abducting random aliens. Not to mention, if they spot us coming, they’ll probably try to escape in hyperspace, and come back with Galra, or even more of their pirate friends!”

Keith groaned inside of the green lion. Hunk’s lion was the strongest, so he was waiting nearby to escort the blue lion. Which meant Keith was tasked with distracting the pirates while Pidge hacked into the cargo bay doors or whatever. The entire group knew that it would be difficult for anyone to navigate the ship without being noticed, so Keith would be in charge of keeping an audience. He knew it was the best plan, but it still worried him. They had no idea how long it would take, or how many crew members there would be. They were almost completely blind. It wasn’t the greatest feeling in the world.

Pidge activated the temporary cloak she had somehow managed to rig up, and they made their way into the ship.

The first thing he noticed was the smell. It didn’t smell how he expected a pirate ship to smell. He had also expected it to be filthy, with dirt caking the walls along with unidentifiable smears and stains. It wasn’t flawless, like the castle, or the lions, but it was well-kept. There was a faint aroma of lavender, like…God it smelled like the air fresheners at the garrison. He hadn’t expected to be struck with homesickness in the middle of an alien pirate ship but there he was.

He thought back to how they’d gotten this far. They had found Shiro lying in that pod, only to be pulled off the ground by the massive tractor beam of an alien vessel. It had been chance really, that they made it out of that Galra cruiser alive. That ship had just happened to be the one carrying the red lion. When he had struggled against his captors (nearly getting killed in the attempt), and from within the ship the red lion had come to save him, crashing straight through the deck of the ship. It hadn’t been the most relaxing day for him.

“Keith! Snap out of it!”

He nodded to Pidge and tried to clear his head. “I know, I know, but-“

“I know, Keith. I smell it too,” she whispered. “But right now we have bigger problems.”

She was right of course. He shook his head to clear it once more, and made his way to the main deck, where he’d announce his presence. He could see cameras placed strategically to capture nearly every angle. They all overlapped in one spot. He took a breath and moved into the limelight.

Almost immediately, alarms began blaring all around him. Most of the pirates closest to him were frozen in shock, but he knew it wouldn’t last long. He took off running.

Dozens of guards began trying to flank him as he sped through the ship trying desperately not to get lost in a dead end. At some points he could see three or four guards after him, occasionally eleven or twelve. Both Keith and the pirates knew this chase wouldn’t last much longer.

Eventually, he looped back to the main deck. This time he was completely surrounded. He drew his bayard and raised his shield as some twenty guns and knives were aimed at his head.

A man walked out of the circle who seemed to be the leader, and again, his expectations were shattered. He was thin and wiry almost, and barely taller than Keith, but despite his small frame, the expressions of the men around him were ones of awe and respect. This was not only someone they feared, but someone they trusted. If Keith tried to hurt him in any way, there was no doubt he’d be at the mercy of every one of them. There were two guns visible at his hips, but he was likely hiding a few extra weapons in the many pockets of his clothing. Keith could get no read on him. His whole face was hidden with a large hood, goggles, and a mask around his mouth. He even had gloves on, as though he were trying to hide just about anything that could reveal his identity.

“So, who are you, and what exactly do you think you’re doing on my ship?” Keith shuddered. Even his voice was garbled so it was indistinct and unidentifiable.

“I’m here for the blue lion.” He figured it would be best to be direct, since he didn’t really have any other good reason to be there.

He was wrong.

The crowd visibly shuddered. Then like a wave laughter spread through their ranks, all the way until it reached the captain. Though Keith couldn’t see his face, he somehow managed to radiate both derision and displeasure.

He spoke again, voice still garbled, but now containing an unmistakable lilt of mirth. “Well, at least he’s honest about it! What do you say, guys? Should we hand it over? I don’t know if I’d want to get on his bad side, he looks scary!”

Keith growled as fresh laughter circled him. He’d never been all that good at talking anyway. He lifted his sword and charged the leader, hoping to surprise him.

Faster than he could even register it, both guns were out of their holsters and pointed at him. Two shots were fired, one after another. Keith felt a stinging pain in his hand, forcing him to drop his sword just as the second shot hit him square in the face. He flew backward, unbalanced and defenseless. Groaning, he tried to get up, only to be forcibly yanked off the floor by the pirates standing closest to him. His helmet was yanked off his head, and he looked up to see the leader holding a pistol to his forehead.

As he looked up at him, the man seemed to falter, as though confused. Keith could feel his eyes boring into his, questioning ad, for the briefest of moments, unsure. Then the moment, and he laughed, harder than he had before, like the universe had played a joke on him and he was just now understanding it. He lowered his gun, doubling over in hysterics.

Desperately, he tried to regain his composure. The man removed his goggles, placing them on his forehead while he wiped tears from his eyes. They were startlingly blue, and filled with genuine humor.

“I should have known the second I saw that mullet! I can hardly believe it!” He paused as fits of laughter coursed through him once more. His eyes seemed to harden, though Keith could tell he was smiling. “It’s nice to see you again, Keith.”

He froze, eyes widening.

“It is Keith, isn’t it? Keith Kogane? Here I thought you were just some punk looking for a fight, but now I can see that’s not the case. You just don’t really know the rules around here just yet. Not your fault really, but you must understand I can’t allow you to stay on my ship.”

Keith shook his head, more confused than ever. “Wha-wait how do you know my name? Who are you?”

He laughed, again, more somber than before. “Even if you knew my name, I doubt you’d have remembered me. You likely had other things on you mind.”

He racked his brains, trying desperately to identify him. This person could be from earth, but that was impossible. Even if he’d been at the Garrison, there was no way he’d been able to get this far into space. But how else could he know his name?

The pirates holding him forced his helmet roughly back onto his head. The captain turned back to him, his eyes filled with something…regret? Then he sighed, and replaced his goggles.

“Well, I hate to do this to you, buddy, but I run a tight ship. I don’t have room for stowaways.” He signaled the men holding him.

“Wait, please! Tell me your name, where I know you from, anything!” he shouted, desperation filling his voice.

The captain looked at him, cocking his head as though considering him. “No one is getting my lion. When you get picked up by the rest of your crew, you had better tell them to run far, far away from here.” He turned and walked back into the crowd, shouting for everyone to get back to work.

“Come on, Pidge,” he thought. The two aliens shoved him roughly into an airlock. He quickly closed off the shield of his helmet and tried to brace himself. He could hear a robotic voice counting down the seconds.

“8…7…6…”

Then, through the window he could see the alarms blaring on the inside of the ship. People began rushing by, all heading in the same direction. Pidge had managed to open the cargo bay doors.

“4…3…2…”

He saw the captain outside the airlock. Even with his entire face shielded and masked, Keith could feel the bitter rage pouring from him.

“…1. Airlock opening.”

The doors opened, and he was pulled into the vacuum of space.

For a few seconds he could feel nothing, just the breath in his lungs and the distinct feeling of motion. Then he was swallowed up by the jaws of Hunk’s lion. He made it to the cockpit and nearly collapsed, still shaken from all that had happened.

“Keith are you alright? Are you hurt?” he asked. The blue lion was already in the yellow lion’s paws, and they could see Pidge nearby with the pod.

He looked back toward the airlock of the ship, remembering the haunted look of the captain’s blue eyes they stared into his.

“I’m fine.”

Shiro was able to take control of his lion, but the blue lion remained empty. Both Coran and Allura had attempted to enter it, but its particle barrier had gone up as soon as it touched Arusian soil.

Later, over some of Hunk’s cooking, they discussed the problem of the fifth paladin.

“I still don’t quite understand. How are we supposed to find them? Couldn’t it be literally anyone in the entire universe?” Pidge asked.

Allura frowned into her bowl of goo. “I don’t know, but we must trust that we will find them. It will likely happen completely by chance. Like when you were picked up off your planet by the one ship with the red lion in it. I think we may find the blue paladin when we least expect it.”

“In the meantime, we’ll just have to work together as best we can. We can’t form Voltron, but we still need to practice working as a team. Each of us must have a strong bond with our lions, or we may never defeat the Galra,” Shiro said. Coran stood up from the table. “While you’re all doing that, me and Allura will see to the repair of the castle. It is ten thousand years old after all!”

Keith groaned. He couldn’t wait to leave. Something about being still for so long kept gnawing at him. He didn’t know why, but he felt trapped, caged like the lions in their hangars.

The sun set over Arus. Nearly all of the paladins were asleep, and Allura had finally gone to bed at Coran’s insistence. Besides him, Keith was the only one still awake. He couldn’t shake the eerie feeling he kept getting, so he was listening to music to pass the time until he was tired enough to pass out.

Unbeknownst to him and the rest of the paladins, a ship was carefully landing in the courtyard.

Keith was just about to fall asleep when he was jerked out of subconsciousness by blaring alarms. He could hear the other Paladin’s shouts of surprise, and over the intercom Coran began shouting incoherently.

“Paladins wake up, quick! We didn’t pick them up on our scanners you’ve got to-“ his voice became washed out by static. Keith hurriedly put on his armor and grabbed his bayard. Running past the other’s rooms he made his way to the bridge of the castle. Before he could get there, however, he ran into someone he had not expected to see.

“You.”

Keith barely had time to register the familiar modulated voice as several of the pirates charged at him. He dodged the first two and ducked under the blade of the third. He tried to sweep the legs out from underneath the fourth and raised his shield to block the bullets headed for his skull. Flying into a whirlwind he used his shield and the hilt of his sword to knock them down. In the close quarters of the hallway they couldn’t hope to surround him like they had on the ship, and they went down one after another. Finally, he faced the captain. The guns were out again, but this time Keith was ready. He held his shield up, flinching as several shots hit him but did no damage. As the captain attempted to reload his blasters Keith brought his shield up over his head and rammed it down as hard as he could.

He groaned, voice modulator cracked and messing up his voice even more than before. Before the man could get up Keith kicked away the guns in his hands. He brought his sword under his chin.

“Now you’re going to tell me exactly who you are. How did you know my name? Who are you?” he demanded.

The captain made to get up, hands lifted above his head. Not taking chances, Keith quickly backed him up against the wall.

“Easy, pal, I’d like to keep my face if you don’t mind,” he said, his breath coming slowly. Carefully, and in full view, he pulled back his hood and removed the goggles and broken mask. Keith nearly dropped the sword. The captain wasn’t even a man. He couldn’t have been any older than Keith, despite being slightly taller than him. But that wasn’t the strangest thing. He was…

“You…you’re human.”

“Surprised?”

Keith lowered his bayard and tried to get a better look at him. He had short brown hair, but not short enough that it was wiry. His skin was tanned, and he had a kind of impish grin, one that made Keith so nervous he shuddered.

“How?” He only had room for a few words at a time. He kept getting distracted by those eyes. They were blue, like the ocean, but they had a kind of harshness to them, so that even when he smiled, he looked ready to murder. This kid was battle-worn and sharp as the blade in Keith’s hand.

“Even if I told you my name, I don’t think you’d recognize it. But it still fits me after several deca-feebs.” He smirked, stepping closer and gently nudging the sword out of the way. “The name’s Lance.”

Keith only had time to blink in surprise as he attacked, grabbing his sword hand and pulling a knife from inside a coat pocket. He could do nothing as Lance flipped him around, pinning him to the wall with the blade pressed against his throat. He tried to shout, but felt the knife press into his skin, effectively choking off his protests.

“Listen, Keith, I really don’t want to hurt you. But I need that lion you stole from me. Seems to me like you’ve got four perfectly good ones, so I don’t think you really need mine. Really, how many lions does a guy need?”

Keith knew he could die. Lance would kill him, and he might sleep uneasily for a few nights, but it would pass. Still, despite his better judgement, he didn’t want to give up the Blue Lion. It could end up with the Galra, or worse. He strained desperately against Lance’s grip, but he was taller, and much, much stronger than he looked.

“I’m only going to ask you once, man. Where. Is. My. Lion!”

“Stop!”

Lance whirled, as he heard Shiro’s shout. His knife hand was still pressed against Keith’s neck, but he quickly drew another knife and was about to throw it when he saw the entirety of the group. Keith felt his grip slacken and took the opportunity to shove him toward the other side of the room, as far away from him as possible. Retreating to the rest of the paladins, they turned to face Lance, only to find he was…laughing.

He composed himself enough to look up at the group. “Well, this is not how I thought this day was going to go,” he remarked, dissolving into giggles once again.

Keith was confused, but Hunk stepped forward, his face set in a worried frown.

“Lance?” he asked. Then Keith finally remembered. Back at the garrison there had been a boy who took the blame for his disciplinary issue, all because Keith was the better pilot. Lance had been right. He barely remembered the name. The only person he’d ever heard it from was Hunk, his old engineer.

Lance looked up, his eyes filled with a kind of bitter sadness. For the first time he smiled a true genuine smile. It looked like it hurt, like his face was cracking, and they could finally see the loneliness hidden beneath. “It’s good to see you, man. It’s been, what? Two deca-feebs or so? It feels like forever,” he said, his voice tinged with a mixture of sadness and relief.

Hunk looked frozen, scared almost, but he his jaw was set in a determined line. “How the quiznak did you get here? The last I heard you were kicked out of the garrison then, nothing. Nobody knew where you went. I thought...” he trailed off.

Lance hesitated, then sheathed both knives and retrieved his blasters. He seemed to take a moment to consider something, then shook his head as if trying to dismiss the idea. Finally, he said resignedly, “You want answers, and that’s fair, but you have to get me to the blue lion first. Then, I’ll explain everything, cool?”

The paladins had been unanimous. Keith was reluctant, but even he was curious about the boy who seemed far too young to be in this kind of scenario (a lot like them, he thought). They led him cautiously toward the hangar where the lion was waiting. As they got closer, he began to walk faster and faster. He paused, as though listening for something, then sprinted down the castle’s hallways. Alarmed, the Paladins shouted and ran after him, but he seemed to know exactly where to go to lose sight of them. Finally, Keith found him next to the blue lion. What he saw sent shivers down his spine.

The lion’s particle barrier was down, and its jaws were open to let Lance inside. Lance was the blue paladin.

He turned around before stepping into the lion and smiled knowingly. “Surprised?” His tone held none of the mockery it had before. His smile was wide and his blue eyes sparkled. Keith noticed how much they looked like gems. He looked back up at the metal beast with admiration, like one would look at a close friend.

“She saved me, you know. When I got kicked out of the Garrison no one came to get me. My family just, didn’t show up. So I just left, walked out into the desert. I don’t know why, but this one place in the cliffs seemed to call to me. I found a cave there, with glowing blue markings. They guided me to where the lion was hidden.”

He didn’t know why, but Keith felt the need to explain himself as well. “I never knew you’re name, but the commander at the Garrison always told me how I nearly got kicked out and was only allowed to stay because they shifted the blame onto you to keep me there. It felt like prison sometimes. Hunk and Pidge made it better of course, but it sucked there.”

“I wonder if my parents ever cared that I was gone.”

Keith stared in disbelief. “Of course they did! There was a huge story about it. The Garrison told everyone you ran away, and your entire family tried to sue them, but they couldn’t because they didn’t have enough concrete evidence.”

Lane looked at him, confused. “Really?” he asked, not daring to believe it. “Then why weren’t they there? Why didn’t anyone come for me?”

“I don’t know. All I really know is that you were presumed dead. They probably had a funeral and everything.”

Tears welled up in his eyes as he saw that Keith wasn’t joking. “I…I can’t believe it. All this time I’ve been avoiding Earth because I didn’t think anyone wanted me there, but now…” he trailed off. “Now I don’t know what to think. I miss them. I miss them so much.”

He began to sob then, tear after tear dripping down his cheeks. He made no move to wipe them off. Still crying he suddenly hugged Keith and sobbed into his shoulder. Keith hesitated, stunned, but then carefully wrapped his arms around him.

“Thank you, Keith.”

They broke apart nervously, and Lance wiped his eyes on his glove as the other Paladins burst through the doors.

“Keith, are you alright? What happened…” Allura trailed off as she saw who the blue lion had accepted.

“I’m fine. Everyone, meet Lance, the new paladin of the blue lion.”