#. i really have to get this fixed . i cant deal with the tight and heavy feeling in chest all the time

[sun-stricken]

Headcannons about sick!gray? Mine is that ice mages get sick really easily but he’s just great at hiding it until Lyon mentions it or something and suddenly the guild freaks out at a sniffle

Also don’t know if it’s any interest to you, but sometimes when I’m making fiction in my head I imagine gray is actually sick. Like when he does wear clothes they’re always tight around the middle, right? So what if being under all the rubble did something to his lungs/chest and so he needs the support sometimes

edit from like two hours after i responded, you asked me for my personal headcanons, but all i did was play on yours, so sorry 🙁

omg tysm for the ask, i love this

i agree that ice mages get sick easier than other mages, but also any mage whos magic effects their temperature fluctuation, (i might make a full post abt that later)

also i am dramatic and love to ramble, sorry if its too long!!

Gray is good at handling things himself, hes been taking care of himself for over a decade, itd be weird if he wasn’t

He takes care of others, looks after his guild-mates, maybe to pay off some sort of debt, or maybe because they dont take care of themselves (what a hypocrite)

he takes care of them, he doesn’t expect them to take on roles for him, didn’t expect them to take care of him; he did perfectly fine on his own, thank you very much

-Fairy Tail disagrees-

The moment Lyon started telling them horror stories about how often and how intense Gray got sick while learning magic, all hell broke loose, specifically, his team broke loose

Erza started grilling Lyon, how did he get sick, how often on average, why is it so easy, how did they help him as a kid, what do you mean he couldnt breathe? HISBODYCOULDNTWHAT???

(it felt all too familiar to a criminal interrogation)

Lucy fretted over Gray, eyes panicking trying to search for an illness that wasnt yet there, asking if he felt ill now, does he need water? should he sit down? why is he so red?

(why does she look so scared?)

Happy all but launched himself into Grays chest, crying about why he didnt tell them and other nonsensicals he could fully make out

Wendy popping in to say that while she cant heal illnesses she can help him any way she can, and maybe she cried just a little abt how she couldn’t help him fully

(a kid shouldnt be so stressed about not being able to help fix a problem that they didn’t make)

Natsu, now Natsu was pissed. Hes no stranger to being reckless and he knows it, but this wasn’t him, this was Gray; Gray who had always helped him through sicknesses and injuries, some of which the guild didnt even know of. why didnt he trust them to help him? why didnt he ever tell them anything? why didnt he figure it out?

it hurt. it really did.

(why isnt he trying to fight him? why isnt he yelling?

Gray stood there, red in the face and truly embarrassed, he didnt think it was that big of a deal and here they were, here was his guild, his family. vowing to take care of him from here on out.

He doesnt think hes ever felt so embarrassed, and guilty, and so loved all at once

also a foreboding, hes not sure why though

as it turns out, he was right to be cautious

days later he had a cold, a measly cold, he sniffled maybe once or twice, and he might’ve stumbled just a little, and all of a suddenly he was next to the guild fireplace, covered in too many blankets, a thermos in hand, and people constantly insisting on getting him things

he knew he shouldn’t have come today

although, they had every right to be worried, as it very quickly turned into pneumonia. lucky him

He was taken to the guild infirmary, his team right there with him

even through the chills, the too short and too fast breathing, the obnoxious heat in his whole body, and the ever so slight delirium creeping into his thoughts

he felt the hand atop his, felt the heavy weight of sharp eyes that miss nothing on him;

he felt the purring mini oven tucked into his side;

he felt a hand usually covered in armor carding through his hair, wiping the sweat from his forehead with a cool cloth;

he felt the way a trembling hand gripped his no longer free hand, felt the telltale sign of whisperers against his fingers;

he felt the minuscule vibrations of scrambling around him, heard the clinking of glass bottles no doubt full of remedies

…

he felt, loved.

THID IS SO LONG IM SORRY BUT IM SO OVERDRAMATIC AND LOVE TO RAMBLE

NOW FOR THE SECOND PART THAT I LOVE SO MUCH!

being under that collapsed building fucking with his lungs and ribs isnt something i ever thought of!

thats genius, i love it

im just imagining permanent damage to his lungs, not being able to use them to their full capacity, and maybe chronic pain in his ribcage area and sharp pains when he tries to draw in deep breaths

i think Makarov obvs knew this (maybe he makes everyone has full check ups yearly or every couple years, but also everytime someone joins the guild)

he warned Gray against overexerting himself because it could be especially dangerous for him

he was prescribed an inhaler and medication for his breathing and pain

but this was and is a boy full of too much pride and guilt, maybe he thinks he deserves it, maybe just doesnt care what happens to him, maybe he simply doesnt know his limits; but for whatever reason he doesnt listen, doesnt use his support unless it is absolutely unbearable

of course it gets better over the years, but that didnt start willingly, the guild found out, maybe Gray let it slip, maybe Jii-Chan did, or maybe they heard him scolding Gray for overdoing it again

but they found out and would check up on him, give him advice from some of their experience with their own disabilities

Ive hced for a while that Gildarts was particularly fatherly (or like, a protective uncle…ly?) with the kids of Fairy Tail, so i think he wouldve been the one to get him this pressure support thing for his ribs

it worked, and so does heating pads/packs, which lead to the next development

and after Gray joined up with his team and got closer, he would make Natsu be his own personal heat pack bc that is such a sweet and silly image to me

Natsu surprisingly complained minimally

i wonder why? :)

more little sick things

Gray doesnt get hungover, probably the only illness he gets lucky on

he gets really talkative and delirious when hes sick, and clingy

he’ll ramble abt random things he has to do, not realizing he cant for obvious reasons

he’ll talk about life before Ur, about his siblings who never had the chance to live; about ppl who left Isvan before Deloria came, wondering if theyre alive and actually living, if they remember him

whoever’s with him does him the courtesy of not bringing it up when hes better

Lucy gets really scared when people are sick, it makes her think of watching her mom deteriorate, she refuses to go through that again

She spoke to Natsu and Erza about this while Gray was sick once, broke down and said she wad terrified of losing someone she loves to a stupid sickness again

Gray will cling to the person closest to him when he’s ill, holding their hand, leaning on them, just not letting them leave; he finally is letting himself be taken care of and it feels good, he’ll be damned if he lets that go again

Natsu was so angry when Lyon told them, he was so angry and so scared that even with his heightened senses he didnt know anything at all

If hes with Gray when hes sick, he rarely takes his eyes off the uneven rise and fall of his best friends chest, as to reassure himself that Gray was still breathing, that he was still here and didn’t disappear

Gray will get up and try to get things done when hes sick, he is not the type to sit down and rest and recover

he had to be physically hauled back to bed on multiple occasions

Erza is lost when people are sick, ever the leader though, she tried to take the lead, giving people jobs and trying to make sure everything is order

it ends up quite the opposite though, halfway through she reluctantly hands the reins to someone else

she tries though

Gray has a box full of ‘get well soon!’ gifts and cards, he likes to look through then and read all the messages over and over again

i lied. he has three boxes, his friends are overachievers

fin.

[palbabor-writes]

Paralyse

this is for @libiraki​. ily pwetty lady (づ◡﹏◡)づ warnings: tw.dubcon, tw.cucking, SMUT/18+ only, vouyerism, fingering & other dirty things

Paralyse par·a·lyze /ˈperəˌlīz/ verb cause (a person or part of the body) to become partly or wholly incapable of movement.

It should have worn off by now.

It’s not supposed to take this long, to feel like this. It had barely hit him; there’s no way he hadn’t dodged it in time. Fucking, stupid, quirk. Why bother to activate it? What’s the use if it doesn’t kick in for hours? It hadn’t helped the man; he’d died all the same. 

Goddamn it.

Shigaraki tries to shift his fingers, his toes, his shoulders. He can sense that his brain is sending the right signals, that the correct neurons are firing, sparking, fizzing within his heavy muscles; they have to be, because he can sense the ache that they leave behind. 

But nothing changes. He’s locked in place, his head craned against the floor, eyes narrowed, teeth gritted, a thin line of drool slipping down his useless lips. 

Dabi had knocked him from the thin mattress, forcing you to crouch down beside him, telling you how to position him, to lift his chin a little more, to ensure that Shigaraki can see everything that’s unfolding before him. 

Dabi’s not supposed to be here.  

No, Dabi had said he was going to be away for the next few days, pounding the pavement and scouting for new recruits. He must have finished early, or given up. He always had some kind of excuse, some brisk wave of his long fingers, staples glinting against the dim light of the bar top, assuring his “boss” that he’d get to it, eventually. 

Shigaraki isn’t even sure how the asshole had gotten into his room.

For his part, Shigaraki had been useless for hours, collapsing soon after his return, his body hitting the floor with a dull thud, scattering dust and a sharp collection of gasps from his followers. You’d reached for him, hands tugging his head up, begging him to tell you what was wrong, what had happened.

He couldn’t say, couldn’t answer, his jaw tense, already locking up from the paralysis quirk he’d been unlucky enough to fall under the spell of.

You’d done your best to prop him back up and Kurogiri had ensured that the two of you were warped to the dark sanctuary of his bedroom seconds later, sequestering him from the prying gaze of the others.

Someone must have told Dabi. Must have said that Shigaraki was incapacitated, weak, vulnerable, leaving you, by default, ripe for the taking. 

He’d never liked that you’d elected to pair off with Shigaraki. Always snapping and baring his teeth at the two of you, angry that you’d somehow managed to slip through his mottled fingers. 

Shigaraki had done his upmost to play up on those frustrations, pleased he could rile such vehement emotions from the flame user. He’d flaunted his access to you, touching you, kissing you, marking you with dark bites and bruises. Apparently, he’d struck more than a nerve. 

Well, if turn about is fair play, Dabi’s done his best to ensure that Shigaraki has got a good view.

You’re splayed across the bed, one leg braced under Dabi’s burned skin. There are bright pricks of red and purple that litter your inner thighs, evidence of his all too hot touch against you. He hasn’t left you with a single scrap of clothing and your naked skin prickles against the heat of his fingers and the cool sucks and licks he leaves behind, evidence of his ravenous want. 

“Stop being so quiet,” Dabi chides, cerulean eyes lifting to yours, fixing you with a sharp glare. “How can he hear you if you keep biting your tongue like that? It’s not fair, is it boss?” His head whips around and he barks out a cruel laugh, teeth bright as he leers down at Shigaraki’s prone form. “Anything you wanna see? You fucked her in the ass yet?”

You gasp out a sharp whimper at his final question and squirm under his grip. Dabi looks back at you, staples pulling against the lift of his smile. “Ooooh, think I can take that as a no. Well babe, let’s put on a show for him. Let him see how to really please you, cause’ I know he hasn’t. I know you need something else, something better than the weak fucks that pent up incel has been giving you.”

One of his hands curls under your chin and you lower your head, teeth snapping, trying to catch one of those long fingers as they dance away. He just chuckles and puts more of his body weight against you, his head dipping to the line of your throat. 

“Don’t be like that. Who knows? You might like it. Might like it so much you’ll want more.”

As he presses his nose to your pulse, taking in a sharp inhale and sighing blissfully at the heady scent of you, his other hand has wandered to the apex of your thighs. Deftly, he pushes past your dampening curls and moves his middle finger along your folds, delighting in your sudden, unbidden reaction. 

Your hips coil upward, betraying you with a swiftness that makes your head spin. He’s careful to keep away from your pulsing entrance, pinching at your slippery labia as his tongue traces a wet line to your ear. 

You shake your head, angry with yourself, lifting from the tattered mattress, eyes peering into the darkness, searching for that familiar mop of white hair; looking for him, the one that you really want, you remind yourself, the man that you need. Not Dabi. Not him. You don’t...you don’t want...oh...fuck–

“There we go. I’ll make you a deal, say my name and I’ll touch you where you want me to. How does that sound? Hmmm?”

“D-Dabi! Don’t...I–”

Dabi’s found your clit.

His calloused thumb and forefinger are pinching around the bud, frigging and tweaking it until faint dots pass over your eyes. Your head drops back to the bed and your hips roll, legs unconsciously spreading, your traitorous cunt betraying you, offering you up. 

“Mmm, you look real pretty like this, so pink and...and...fuck babe, look how wet you are,” Dabi pulls away from your heat, catching the spidery strands of your arousal, stretching them across his fingers.

“No! I didn’t...I don’t want this....get off me! You...fucking...disgusting...ah–”

Your voice fades away as you watch him, eyes drifting to half mast, lungs burning as you try to contain your budding excitement. He’s licking his digits into his mouth, slurping hungrily at the wetness of your cunt, head turning back to the stiffened man behind him.

“Look at her! Can you do this? You ugly fucker? Can you make her wet from just one touch? Do you even fucking know what to do with her? You don’t deserve this, you haven’t earned it. Bet he can’t even make you cum, can he babe?”

He’s looking down at you again, one dark brow arched. “Let’s show him how it’s done. Come on doll, let me hear how much you want me.”

It’s all the warning that you have, all the preparation he allows before his fingers are slipping past the tight ring of your entrance. You neck arches under you, breasts lifting as your back bows off the bed. Before you can blink, his lips are around your tightening nipples, passing from one to the other as he strokes and teases, searching for something within you. 

“Such a good girl, saying my name like that and you’re so sensitive,” Dabi coos, tongue tickling under the curve of your breast. “Tomura, does she do this for you? Nah, I doubt it. Look how much she likes me!”

The only sound from the paralyzed form of Shigaraki is his labored breathing. It rasps across the room and it makes you shiver to know he’s watching. Before you realize what you’re doing, your arms are lifting from your sides, cupping against the back of Dabi’s head, holding him to you as you writhe and buck under his talented fingers.

Dabi gifts you a low groan, teeth dipping out, worrying your tender skin under his soft bites. “Yes, just like that. Tell me babe, tell me what you want. I’ll give it to you, I’ll make it so good you can’t fucking think.” 

You voice is frozen, trapped within the confines of your throat, but your body is speaking for you, answering him with hazy want. On an upward cant his fingertips hit something within you, something that makes a broken sigh escape your trembling lips. You can feel his grin, his lips curling, warm staples passing over you as he taps against the spot again. 

“There,” he moans, rewarding you with another press. “You like that, huh?”

“I–” you falter, mouth falling open and hips lifting. “I don’t...I don’t...”

“Don’t what?” Dabi teases, lifting his dark head from your breasts, raising those preceptive blue eyes to yours. “Want me to stop?”

“No!” you hear yourself cry out, ashamed that you’re so fucking weak, so fickle, but you can’t help it. You want more, you want him.

“Mmm, you’re ready for something else, aren’t you?”

He waits for your answer, fingers stilling within you, making your pussy clench and suck at his stationary digits, vainly asking him to continue. You lift your head, eyes pulling away from his to rest on Shigaraki, searching the vermillion, looking for some kind of answer. 

“Don’t look at him, don’t even think about him,” Dabi scolds, slick fingers snatching your chin, demanding your full attention. “Do you want my cock babe? Do you want me to fill you up?”

Your mouth has gone dry and you can’t think, not when he’s looking at you like that, not when you know Shigaraki is watching, listening, taking all of this in. He must be hard, he must be so hard and he can’t relieve himself, can’t grind his hips over the cold ground, can’t...

Dabi’s hand cracks against your side, slapping against the swell of your ass and driving you into him, bare breasts scraping against his loose shirt. “I said, don’t think about him. I’m all you need and I’m going to make you realize that, one way or another.”

He shoves you back down, a large palm spaying over your collarbone as he rids himself of his dark pants, freeing his heavy, dripping cock and giving it a few quick tugs. 

Your eyes drift downward, widening as you take in his thick girth and gleaming piercings and the gasp that leaves you is all the encouragement he needs. As soon as the exhale leaves your lungs he’s driving forward, splitting you open and flashing you a wild grin as you brokenly call out his name.

“That’s it baby, say it again, tell me again. Say my fucking name,” Dabi laughs, pulling his hips back slowly, watching as his length emerges from your cunt, glistening and wet.

“D-Dabi,” you groan, toes digging into the sheets, bracing yourself for another rough cant, ready to feel him again. 

“Again,” he pants, picking up his pace, his thumb reaching for your throbbing clit. “Say it again. I don’t think he can hear you.”

Shigaraki is mumbling something, his voice hitting a frantic note. It might be your name, it might be a curse, it could be anything, but, at this point, you’re too focused on Dabi to care. He feels good and those piercings of his are heating up, scraping against you until you’re a shivering mess.

“Harder!” you beg, fingertips reaching for the skin of his mangled hips, curving over the slope of his ass, pulling him into you. “Fuck me harder, Dabi. Give me more!”

“Such a good girl,” Dabi laughs, slinging your shaking legs over his shoulders. “Hurry up and break outta that quirk boss. I wanna see what she feels like with two of us. It’s waaaay past time you broke her ass in. Just think how tight this cunt of hers will feel then. Ah, fuck...yes baby, just like that, do that again.”

Shigaraki is gasping behind the two of you, his throbbing cock leaving wet drips against the front of his pants. You look so good. Goddamn it. Why the fuck do you look so good? He should kill Dabi, just reach out for that nasty skin of his and crumple him to dust, but he’s right. Shigaraki wants to see what you feel like with two dicks. Will it make you tighter? Will it feel good? How loud will you scream for him when he shoves past the puckered ring of your ass?

God.

His arms are starting to tingle and he can feel his toes again. Not long now, he thinks, watching as Dabi pounds you into the ratty mattress, dragging more whines and gasps from your pretty lips. He’ll get his due and he’ll show you what a fucking slut you are, show you just how much you need him.

How much you need both of them. 

notes: sigh, it got too long :(             

[ladyreapermc]

Fic: Popsicle (Henry x Reader)

Summary: Henry helps you to mown your lawn in a very hot day.

Author’s notes: I woke up with this idea in my head and I had to write it! I apologize in advance because this is so fucking cliché! LOL

Wordcount: 1519

Warnings: smut (oral; dirty talk D/S tones)

Part of Henry wondered if she was doing it on purpose. He didn’t think his girlfriend would be that devious. She always seemed such a sweet girl and even if they haven’t been together for that long, a little over a month really, he thought it was time enough to get to know her very well.

And it was, after all, a very hot day. The sun shining brightly; almost punishingly so. Not a single cloud to be seen in the cerulean blue sky to offer the brief comfort of shade. The air was dry and there was barely any breeze. Henry himself was dripping with sweat, skin flushed pink from exertion as he finished mowed the lawn. The whole reason why he came over this early on a Saturday.

She had asked him for help because her lawnmower kept giving her trouble and Henry just offered to do it himself. It was a pretty heavy machine and she was such a tiny woman. He really didn’t mind, and it could count as exercise for the day.

That was two hours ago. Now Henry’s light cotton shirt was soaked through. His shorts not fair behind. His damp curls were glued to his forehead as sweat trickled down his brow and temple, a couple of drops landing his eyes and making them stink. He knew he had green stains all over his legs and arms and the smell of cut grass, sharp and fresh clung to his skin and nostrils.

However, Henry was finally done and there she was, in the tiniest jeans shorts he had ever seen and a white tank top knotted to the side, showing a tantalizing stripe of her belly. The fabric revealed enough that he could she had foregone a bra and her nipples were hard and pressing against the shirt.

She sat on the steps of the porch, leaning back on her elbows. On the table behind her a pitcher of lemonade, the condensation gathering on the glass making his throat clench with thirst, while she made his cock harden at the very suggestive way, she had her mouth wrapped around that a popsicle.

Her lips were dyed red from the artificial color of the sweet and from what Henry could see, whenever she gave little licks around the length of the popsicle, gathering the melted drops, so was her tongue.

Henry sidestepped her to deal with the first of his body needs, pouring himself a glass of refreshment and downing in one go under her watchful eye, before cleaning his hands on a dishtowel on laying on the table.

She pulled the popsicle from her mouth with a little pop, licking her lips from the excess of juice, before flashing him a bright smile.

“Thank you for doing this. I really appreciate it.”

“No problem.”

He kept his gaze locked on hers as she brought the sweet back to her mouth very deliberately, pushing almost all of it inside before hollowing her cheeks and now there was no question in Henry’s mind that she was doing it on purpose, being a damn tease.

“Give me that,” he all but growled, tugging on the stick of the popsicle until it left her mouth completely and she pouted at him, but there was a hint of mischievousness on her eyes. “I think this is a poor substitute for what you really should be sucking.”

Henry threw the popsicle away, before glancing around, making sure there wasn’t any nosy neighbor in sight. Fortunately, the hedge fence she kept was pretty tall and under the porch, they were mostly hidden from view.

He undid the laces of his shorts, pushing down mid-thigh, exposing his half-hard dick. She crawled closer on her hands and knees, watching him with hooded eyes before stroking his cock to full hardness. She watched him through her lashes, eyes full of desire.

“Is this what you want?”

“Yes,” she whimpered moving forward, but he caught her by the hair, making her stop. “Hen, please…”

“Tell exactly what you want,” he ordered, forcing her head back so he could look into her eyes again.

“I want you in my mouth,” she started suddenly breathless as she stared up at him. “I want you to fuck my mouth until I can’t breathe. Until I’m gagging on your cock. I want you to cum on my tongue, making me swallow everything.”

It was almost as if every word that passed her lips sent sharp bolts of pleasure through his spine, making his cock twitch, precum leaking from his tip. Apparently, his sweet, naive girlfriend wasn’t so innocent after all.

Henry let go of her hair long enough to caress her jaw, one thumb pressing gently against her pouty lower lip and she immediately took into the warmth of her mouth, tongue swirling around it suggestively, before letting go with that same dirty little pop.

“Please, sir…” she whispered against the pad of his finger. “Let me suck you, please.”

He didn’t expect the word sir to have that big of an impact on him, but his cock throbbed with want and, before Henry could even register his actions, he was dragging her close, rubbing the head of his cock against her lips, just to hear the tiny little whimper of need she let out before he finally let her take him into her mouth.

Henry groaned softly at the delicious feel of her tongue circling his crown, exploring it slowly, the tip probing his slit and making pressure build on the small of his back. Soon, it wasn’t enough; he rocked his hips just a little and she took the hint, getting more of his cock in her mouth. The way her lips stretched over his thick length was right down indecent; just like the little mewls she was letting out.

Henry watched as she took him into her mouth as far as she could manage before pulled out completely and lavishing his cock with little sucking kisses and licks, exploring his shape and veins; coating him with saliva to smooth the movement of her hand as she jerked him off.

“Does this feel good, sir? Am I doing it right?”

“Yes,” Henry breathed out, lost in the sensations. “Feels perfect, baby. Keep going.”

She took him in his mouth again, sucking harder this time around, making Henry grunt, his hand tightening on her nape at the feel of the tight wet heat circling his hardness with the perfect pressure. Fuck! She was so good at this.

He forced his eyes open to watch as inch by inch his cock disappeared in her mouth. She fixed the angle slightly, to take even more and Henry groaned at the feel of the back of her throat working around his head. He held her still for a moment, admiring how absolutely filthy his pretty girl looked with her mouth full of his cock.

Henry could already feel the telltale’s signs of his climax, the pressure increasing, his balls drawing tight. He was too close, too fast, and all because she was completely at his mercy.

Pulling almost all the way out, until only his head remained, Henry started to thrust into the welcoming heat of her very willing mouth, fucking it just like she asked, shoving it just far enough to hear her gag and splutter; tears gathering in the corner of her eyes as she watched him, eyes begging him to keep going.

“Is this how you wanted, baby?” he asked, picking up speed and she hummed in agreement, hands digging on the back of his thighs. “Did you want me to use your mouth like a dirty little slut?”

Her keening whimper sent vibrations all over his length, making Henry grunt and miss his pace, shoving a little farther than planned and she choked, pulling back and coughing slightly. Before Henry could even apologize, she was taking him in her mouth again, desperate and greedy, bobbing her head.

“Fuck! That was exactly what you wanted…” he said in awe, rocking his hips to meet her pace. “You could have just asked, baby. I would’ve given to you. Anything you want. You know that.”

Once again, she just hummed, sending vibrations up his length. Henry groaned, letting her take control once again as she brought him as deep as she could and swallowed around him.

“Fuck!” Henry hissed, the pressure of pleasure becoming unbearable.

He pulled back only enough so he could see the ribbons of his release painting her pretty little mouth. Her lips swollen from her efforts, her tongue gathering all drops of his cum she could reach, and it had to be one of the hottest things Henry ever witnessed.

He took a moment to catch his breath, watching the way she grinned at him like the cat the got the cream and he couldn’t help but smile back.

“Anything else you’d like to do and haven’t told me yet?”

“A couple of things,” she replied, getting to her feet and meeting his lips. “But for now, let’s just get you in the shower.”

xxx

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[violetnotez]

request:  It’s the the first time I send a request so I hope I’m doing it right 🥺 can I request a kirishima x reader one-shot with the reader being the traitor and during a fight with the LOV she betrays her classmates and her boyfriend and they found everything out. Possibly angst ofc and you can choose if end it with angst or not, as you prefer. Please I love your blog 🥰

hi anon! So I really loved this idea, and I kinda took it in a different direction, hope thats alright! <3

Kirishima x reader

Genre: Angst, PG

Word Count: 2.6k 

Warnings: none!

Prompt:  #3, “you cant tell me you dont feel the same way” from @bnhabookclub​ Provisional Licensing Exam event

Summary: You have been recruited by Shigaraki to spy on UA as a student. You mistakenly fall in love with Eijirou Kirishima during your time there, dating him for almost 6 months. But now Shigaraki needs you back, and in order to keep Kirishima safe, you have to break his heart

You let out a deep sigh, your chest feeling heavy and full of despair.

You didn't want to do this- you didn't want to hurt him, or let him go.

But to keep him safe- you had to do it.

Shigaraki had revealed the night before that his new plan was complete, and that your spying operation at UA was no longer needed. You had been recruited by Shigaraki at a young age to pose as a student attending UA High, your powerful quirk allowing you to get into the famous Class 1-A. For the last few months you had been pretending to be a hero-in-training, befriending every member in the class in order to win their trust. It was tiring work, trying to study on your own as well as memorize each student's strengths and weaknesses for Shigaraki to use. But by being so friendly with them, you began to realize you actually liked some of the students, making it difficult to hate them as much as you used to. They were so carefree and hopeful about the future, not realizing how cold the real world was like you did. You surprised yourself by loving every moment you were with 1-A, especially with your boyfriend, Eijirou Kirishima. It was hard to stay away from him- he was so bright and charismatic, his smile able to be seen from a mile away. His warmth was so intoxicating, lighting up your life in love and affection. He was the sweetest boy you had ever met, and quite handsome as well, sealing the deal for the massive crush you had grown to have on him. You felt guilty for dating him, knowing that a large portion of your life was hidden from him. It was a frigid lie that had once tried to hold you back from crushing on Kirishima, yet his brilliant warmth melted it away. He unknowingly helped you feel safe, to momentarily believe the world wasn't so bad after all.

Even though you had grown to love the redhead and his bright personality as you spied on Class 1-A, you knew the consequences that one day you would have to leave, yet you followed your heart anyway.

But now the dreaded day had come- Shigaraki needed you to disappear from this new life you had learned to love. He had received all the information he needed from your snooping around, and it was time for you to leave.

Guilt flooded your body, drowning your lungs and heart in regret and misery by the news: you should never have dated poor Kirishima in the first place. You knew it would break his heart once he knew your time together would end, but it had to be done: if Shigaraki ever knew a student from 1-A was romantically in love with you, he wouldn't hesitate to use Kirishima against you as bait to keep you wrapped around his clammy finger. You wouldn't allow Kirishima to get hurt over you, not on your watch.

The only way to ensure you could slip away without worrying about Kirishima was to make him forget about you. That was a close to impossible task, so that idea you scratched out from your mind. You only had two options left: tell him the truth or break his heart.

If you told him the truth, you would have to admit that you were a villain, and most likely would break his heart from the pain away. It would mean revealing your whole life and reason to be a "hero" was a complete and utter lie, most likely destroying the boy in the process. But you already knew Kirishima like the back your hand, and could guess his actions in an instant. He would most likely try to help you, attempt to fix your ways and tell you could leave: but you knew better. You were too involved with the LOV to ever leave and live an everyday life. They would hunt you down if you so much as even admitted to wanting to leave.

You decided the best course of action was to tell Kirishima you were over and down with your relationship- it killed you to even think of speaking such lies, but you didn't want to see him getting hurt. The boy would be heartbroken, yes, but after a while, he'd get over it. His friends were so supportive, so he was sure to have many people consoling him out of his blues. He would forget about you one day and find someone else, someone who wouldn't lie and hurt him. It hurt you to admit it, but this was the best plan you could think of to keep him completely safe.

You were going to miss Kiri and his strong embraces, though, as they were only things that made you feel safe and protected. He was so bright, cheerful, and kind, and it was hard not to resist those warm emotions when your world felt so cold and menacing. But the only way to keep the light inside Kirishima bright was to cut ties with him permanently- you had to break his heart.

Kirishima bounded into the common room cheerfully from his normal workout routine, a warm towel wrapped around his shoulders as he greeted some of his friends. His eyes fell on you, and his heart soared- you looked so pretty sitting there, the setting sun making strands of your hair sparkle like spun gold. His smile grew wider, his perfect teeth sparkling- how was he so lucky to land such an amazing girl like you? His strong arms wrapped around your body from behind the couch, his skin radiating heat as he rubbed his cheek against your hair. "Hey princess, how are you?" he mumbled your pet name into your ear, making your heart churn painfully- this would be the last time he'd hold you like this, the last time he'd speak so softly and sweetly to you. You sighed sadly, meekly wrapping a hand around his skin. 'Hey Kiri," you replied numbly, your voice depressed. You rose from the couch, your legs feeling heavy like lead as you wrapped your arms around your body- why did it feel so cold? Kirishima's smile faded slightly- you didn't sound at all happy. You usually greeted him so adorably, always giving him a big hug or a peck on his cheek. Now you seemed defeated, your hands wrapped around your body as if to protect yourself from something. "Hey, whats going on? You alright- is something bothering you?" he asked sweetly, clueless to why you were feeling this way as he closed the gap between you. He placed his calloused palm on the small of your back, reassuringly, his thumb rubbing against the fabric of your shirt. You swallowed hesitantly, your eyes unable to look into his- it felt too painful to look at him, his innocence to the whole situation making you feel so conflicted and guilty. "We need to talk," you forced yourself to say, his face instantly masked in worry. "Uh-uh sure!" he replied quickly, his speech a little flustered as he tried to seem unbothered, "do you want to talk in my room or yours?" "Let's go in mine," You quickly began walking to your room, Kirishima's footsteps following close behind. He was perplexed and worried- you seemed like something was really bothering you, your voice free of any brightness and joy like it usually was.

You felt like each step to your room made your heart fall heavier and heavier, opening up your room door slowly and letting him enter your room. He flipped on the lights, illuminating the space as you closed the door- even though you'd be long gone by the morning, you felt you at least owed Kirishima some privacy by having the door closed. It made the room feel so much smaller now that Kirishima's aura took over the room. Guilt and shame were eating up at you as you remembered all the hangout sessions and study dates you had in this room, hating how worried and compassionate he looked towards you. "What did you want to talk about? Is it something I did or do? I'm really sorry if I hurt you some way," he was already thinking it was his fault, making you cringe in internal pain- god why was he so sweet? It was you, it was your own personal issues, not him.   "No Kiri, no!" you frantically reassured him, your hands going out in front of you in protest. "Its not you, its- its just," "You can tell me anything, you know that right?" he affirmed sweetly, his eyes soft with concern. You nodded your head numbly, your mouth feeling dry like sandpaper. Kirishima walked close to your body, placing his palms around  your elbows, your arms full of tension as he tried to melt it away with his touch. He was looking down at you with so much worry, so much adoration and love, it made your stomach turn painfully. Why did this have to be so hard-it was so agonizing, like pulling off a bandage slowly and painfully. You just needed to get it done, to rip off the metaphorical bandage as quickly as possible- the longer you wait, the longer the stinging and the pain will be for the both of you. "Then tell me whats wrong," he instructed softly, still utterly oblivious to the whole situation. You swallowed thickly, your voice and throat feeling hoarse and tight. It was now or never. "Kiri, I- we need to break up."

Kirishima froze, his heart stopping in his chest. He didn't hear you correctly, right? Maybe he heard you wrong? There was no way you wanted to break up with him, no way at all- "I-Im sorry, I just-I just don't love you," You hated how these words were coming out of your mouth, these lies that were obviously ripping you and Kirishima apart from the inside. You watched his expression turn from worry to agony, his eyes wide with shock. It hurt too much to see him look so frozen, as if your words had caused him to shut down. His hands were still on your body, the air changing so suddenly- it was stuffy, stale, and uncomfortable. And it was your fault. You shimmied out of his embrace, turning around so you wouldn't be forced to face him. The guilt was eating at you- you couldn't bear to look at him look so defeated when you knew you had caused it. Your abrupt movement seemed to wake him up out of his heartbroken daze, his hands instantly grasping for you, spinning you around quickly. You breathed hitched painfully in your throat- you had never seen him look so defeated, so desperate. His palms were wrapped around your shoulders tightly, almost painfully, making it practically impossible to escape his hold on you. "y/n, please, please just tell me what's wrong," his voice was wavering, his eyes already gleaming with tears, "I-I know this isn't you, if I did something, y/n, I'll fix it, I promise! I can't lose you, please, please dont do this-" he was practically begging "Kiri, I-I, I cant," your voice was becoming weaker from the stress of trying to hold back a sob, "I-I never loved you." "Y/n, no, I cant accept that," tears were gliding against his cheeks, his voice full of passion, "you cant tell me you dont feel the same way." "I-I love you so, so much, you have no idea," he looked down at you with his wide, puppy-like eyes, begging you to change your mind with his words. "Your all I think about- when I wake up, when I fall asleep, everything I see reminds me of you. You make me so happy, the way you smile, your laugh, your hugs- I-I cant live without those things y/n. I cant live without you. When I asked you out that day, I was so nervous- I had been planning for weeks before, and when you agreed to go out, you made me the happiest man alive." Tears were falling down your cheeks now, your heart screaming in agony. You wanted to tell him that's how you felt as well- Kirishima was your whole entire life, enveloping your every waking moment in his wonderfully bright aura. He was your light, your sun, your anchor in the crazy mess of the galaxy of your life. There was no love and no warmth until Kirishima came around. But now you needed to keep him safe- you had to sacrifice your happiness with each other in order to keep him out of harm's way. "Kiri, I only dated you because I felt pity," you lied straight through your teeth, wishing you could melt into the wall seeing Kirishima's face break. "I was too afraid to say no," His heart couldn't take anymore clearly, his face conflicted with so many emotions you couldn't differentiate between any of them. You felt like this was the most ultimate betrayal to the boy, making him think his love he had with you was all a lie. It wasn't, and you wished you could just tell him the truth, but you knew that would be worse. He'd never allow you to leave- you had to, to protect yourself and him. You put yourself in a crappy situation- you wouldn't drag him along with you. "So-it-it was all fake?" He asked, his voice quiet and terrified. He didn't want to hear the answer he knew would spill out of your mouth. "Yes," The room was deadly quiet, Kirishima completely dumb founded-all the times you hugged him, made him feel accepted in your life, laughed at his jokes, kissed him, made him smile, made him happy-was all a lie? A cruel joke in order to spare his feelings? He felt like such an idiot-he should have known this was too good to be true. He felt deep down he wasn't good enough for you, strong enough, smart enough, manly enough. This was just confirming that fear by 10 fold. You were sniffling, watching the love you had for the boy only grow out of misery, while his love for you was diminishing. "Y-n, I-"he was so confused, his hands running through his hair in anguish. "Why?!? Why did you-you were my first everything! You are everything to me! I can't believe you, there's gotta be another reason-I love you, you love me!" You were so quiet, your shoulders shaking in misery and guilt as tear after salty tear fell against your cheek. Your silence was painful, confirming what he feared with each passing second, your averted eyes hiding the actual truth "You love me, right?" You were too afraid to speak, knowing what you had to say to break him from you-but you couldn't. The lie of saying you didn't love him was eating up your insides, clogging your lungs and your throat to the point you felt you couldn't speak. You couldn't tell him you didn't love him-it was too painful. You already lied to him enough. "I'm sorry," you whispered, looking at him with reddened eyes. What he thought you were sorry for was your lack of care for him, the lies you had told him for the past 6 months, and it burnt his insides in a gut wrenching flame, the fire licking and eating his insides in agony.  He had to leave-he couldn't take this anymore, his body walking right past you and opening the door quickly to get fresh air. You were now sobbing, broken gasps crying out his name as he shut the door behind you, closing his heart off from ever accepting you again. You were sorry that you were in love with him, and by being in love with him, you had broken him.

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[itsthe-neo-zone]

Married To Mr Choi - TXT Series

Please read the Masterlist before continuing ahead with the chapter. (Check the warnings and read the interlude before reading the first chapter. Thank you)

Chapter 1: 

Every young girl dreams of her moment, the one where she drapes a sweet pearl gown over her figure and the sparkiest diamond headpiece over the crow of her head. Some even go as far as filling the grooms place with their ever-growing recent crush they have over the boy next door or their special friend in nursery.

Even I had those thoughts, me being the pride and joy of my family, the youngest girl -the only girl- in my house. The house of Tesoro, or Treasure in other words. Noble, famous, and extremely rich. Surely my moment in the snow gown and tiara would be the talk of the century? My marriage would be to the one I find, my soulmate, the true love and my prince that would save me from the towers I was locked in.

But as I stand here in front of my reflection, I didn’t feel any of the infatuations that I had as a young girl. No giddy or jittering feeling at the silky lace skin I wore over my own.

“What do you think of this one?”

“I don’t like it.”

A loud sigh sounded from behind me, she wasn’t even trying to hid it. The frustration dripping from between her teeth.

“I initiated the marriages for all 8 of your brothers and when I want to finally celebrate your coming of age you make my suffer through like this?”

“You didn’t even think about it sis.” A mutter came from the back. I wanted to turn and snap back at San but if it wasn’t for the overly extravagant and 8-pound heavy train splayed behind me. It blocked my movements if I wasn’t able to walk now how I was going to wear it on my freaking wedding day.

“Let’s see if we can try finding a middle ground for both the bride and her mother.” The assistant interrupted, feeling the tension thicken around the room.

She helped me down and as I pulled at the thick material against myself to avoid the troublesome look of tripping up. This whole ordeal was embarrassing, especially since I know this marriage wasn’t going to ever work out.

As I finished changing out of the dress and into the cotton robe that had chaffed my skin from the amount of dressing and undressing, I heard a light knock on my door.

“Come in.” I fixed and tugged at the robe covering myself thoroughly

“Are you feeling ok?” it was san, he pulled at the door and closed shut after he slipped inside. Locking it.

“No.”

“Why’s that.” He took a seat making himself comfortable on one of the many plush fuchsia armchairs scattered in the dressing lounge. “Is it the dresses? Or maybe mothers choice in compliments?”

He hummed in a sing song way, but I was no way in the mood to be teased and joked with. “I don’t call those compliments. She called me fat in one of the dresses and it wasn’t even me. It was the stupid cut of the dress.” My feet stomped a few times.

Smirking at the small pout that graced my lips, he played with a set of pearl beads that were hanging off the vanity. It was odd seeing my eldest brother in these types of surroundings. His work clothes didn’t match one bit. The gun strapped at his hips didn’t seem too friendly either.

It sacred most of the friendly and feminine-like workers and assistants in the bridal wear shop. But I was used to their outlandish and odd looks they wore. All part of their job, I guess.

“Just pick any goddamn dress and prepare yourself. Lets get this over with.” He stood up setting down the jewellery. “You know this is all for social reasons.”

“It’s unfair.” I stepped away turning my back. San could be volatile when he wants to be. Harsh and ruthless in his emotions, unlike Wooyoung.

“I know. But sometimes we have to do things we don’t like Mila. Deal with it.” He muttered; I could hear the gritting of his teeth beneath the sputtering of words.

“This is marriage. It isn’t a gathering I’m attending or befriending someone I hate. This can’t be undone.”

“So? You’re not marrying any random freak. This is the Choi family were talking about.” He thudded his steps to the door brushing slightly past me his boots hitting against the soft carpet mimicked the sound of muffled thunder.

“Mila, if you want peace of mind, you’ll marry him with no complaints, it’s whats best for the family.”  

‘its whats best for the family’

those words made my blood boil and my fists clench hard. Always those meaningless and hurtful words, so degrading and painful to my own thoughts and neglectful of my own desires.

I watched him push past the threshold of the doorway and push past the trembling assistant that was tugging at dresses double or triple her weight.

“I have a few more dresses I think you may like.”

“I don’t know about that.” Sighing I slip the robe off my body for the 60th time today.

“She actually picked a dress this time. Yes. Finally. So love are you going to be here for the ceremony.” The soft voice spoken mutedly and with a tone of contentment came from the main salon.

“Oh that’s good news. The sooner the better.” I heard mothers words muttered from the hallway. Gracing down the corridors I didn’t ever mean to listen in, but her voice and words were intriguing. It seems like she was talking to my father.

I rushed past the main doors making a beeline to my room. There on one of the soft ottomans sat Wooyoung.

“What are you doing here brother?” pushing the door shut with a soft click I turn to face him. He was adorned in his work clothes.

A dark shirt with his gun holster peaking out from underneath the leather jacket. His hair was ruffled up and he was wearing tight slacks with black wing tip oxfords. He had his handgun between his fingers swinging it round. I subconsciously hoped he had his safeguard on.  

“This is a pleasant surprise.” I sat at the edge of my bed lips in a tight line as I pushed a smile.

“Are you not happy with this wedding?” I let out an exasperated sigh. Not this again. Wooyoung doesn’t live with us. He’s married and he has his own estate a distance from here, this is the first time he’s heard of these complaints and I have a hint on who had blurted. His name begins with S.

“Did San tell you?”

“You know he cant keep his lips shut when he’s with me.” I nod glancing downwards.

“Mila, you know I picked this marriage for you. I wouldn’t choose someone that I know can’t look after you.”

“I know but I would have been happier to choose myself.” I played with the ends of my hair, twirling the soft strands around the tip of my finger.

“Marrying that Christopher guy would have been good for you but not for the family.” His eyes wavered slightly. He didn’t catch my lingering gaze. “You’re being self-centred when thinking about this.”

“And shouldn’t I be? It’s my marriage.”

“Christopher bang isn’t part pf this underground work his family have no presence in the mafia realm, so he won’t be of use to you?”

“To us, you’re a part of this.” The grunt leaving his mouth as he stood up warned me, I was entering dangerous territory.

“Really wish I wasn’t.”

The black wavy hair obscured his vison from me rendering me completely confused. He didn’t show much of his emotions, ever since we were young, I could only see them from his eyes. He wasn’t going to like those words no matter what I said.

“The truth is, you’re marrying from the choi family and that’s that.” His voice left no room for discussion. An exhale left my lips as I watched him leave. Judging from the direction his footsteps took he was going towards the salon.

 I had the afternoon to myself later after that heated discussion and the morning excursion. So I decided to take a bath and meet up with a friend, Afterall the afternoon was one of the last I would spend with a close friend as unmarried young ladies.

“So?” Yuna glanced to me before reaching out for her smoothie blend, we had both ordered, “You’re really marrying him?”

I wasn’t looking at her, my head was filled with many worries and they kept gnawing, taking as much of a chunk of my brain as they wanted. “Yeah I guess I am, marrying a Him.” I chewed at the ends of my lips slightly.

It feels different when I say it out loud, it feels real, it’s really happening having my lips voice what was coming gave me that reality check. I didn’t have any control over what was happening, and it was all slipping out of my hands like sand, I couldn’t stop a thing or grasp it.

Its sacred me.

“I heard one of the Choi brothers is married already.” Yuna spoke with caution. “You should double check about that, y’know?” taking another sip she set the glass down before moving closer, I could see her doe eyes from my peripheral.

“I’m not surprised. Anyone working in their fields has to hasten and rush in their life, everyday could be their last day living.” I mutter.

Bringing my glance from the fields of greenery in the estate towards the summer blend of fruit before me, I spare her a quick look before realizing she’s staring expectantly at me.

“What?”

“Nothing, it feels weird.”

I huff, I wasn’t expecting that.

“You shouldn’t think too much, its tiresome for you…” smirking I lift the glass mimicking her movements earlier.

“It’s just, we’ve grown up together Mila, we know almost everything there is to know about each other,” she shifted a little, her blond hair strands falling to shield her face. “I just- its…I never imagined this is how out would go for you.”

“Neither did I, what can we do though?”

A short pause was left between the two of us and as I was relishing in the moment of peace it took me back to when I was a child, not too long ago.

I loved the freedom and the happiness me and my brothers shared. Our innocence the purity on our fingertips.

“Run away?” Yuna offered but as she did, she let a giggle out smiling happily back at me. Yuna seemed so happy. I wish I could be the same. I was so envious of her.

“I wish I could do that Nana.”

I really did, now that we’ve all grown up it seems that the responsibilities piled up and increased.

The pressure toiled above our heads high and the hands my brothers had once filled with purity were covered in drenching blood. The guilt was intolerable they had learnt over the years to let go of it. Some - San - threw away all their emotions to give themselves peace of mind.

When I was a young girl, dreams of wearing a flowing white dress and holding hands with my prince was all I ever dreamed about.

I was infatuated and obsessed with the thought. We all are as young girls…

The idea was all that pushed me, I was oblivious to the happiness that was being sucked and stolen from us. Till this day I blame myself for my brothers situation. It hurts to see the empty voids of stone cold and ice grey look at me. It’s like they’re taunting me. This is what you’ve done. It’s all your fault.

Everything came at a price, this lavish lifestyle and our family legacy, I lost my family for all this and I’m about to lose my future too. 

That night, the insomnia came back to haunt me, i didn't get a seconds rest.

 ~~~

My fingers were getting tired, but I pushed through, I hadn’t reached anywhere, it was getting tiring trying to memorize the last few parts of this piece and it just wasn’t sticking in my head for some reason.

“First you spill the glass of juice, and now this?” San sniggers throwing himself against the main sofa adjacent to me. For someone who lived in an estate surrounded by lush fields and the glimmering view of a large pool reflecting onto the ceiling above me, I was too melancholic.

“What?” I snap back. Throwing a glare at him I continue fixing the thin strands of string on the harp I sat at. “It’s just not my day, is it…” I mumble gnawing on my lips subconsciously.

“If that’s correct then it’s not your month Mila?” the snickering continued. He clearly had nothing better to do today.

“Oh be quiet,” I rubbed the tips of my fingers, the creases were starting to form again.

“No I’m being serious. Why you always so bitter.”

“Leave her alone San.” A distinct grumbling and barely familiar voice entered the main salon. The tall male made his way across the entryway and into the open cuisine corner past the bar.

It had been a long time since I had heard his dull and monotonous voice echoing past the halls of the manor.

“Seonghwa, what a pleasant surprise.” San’s voice dripped with feigned adoring. He was just pushing his limits at this point and Seonghwa had low patience when it came to these decisions.

“Brother, how have you been.”

“Fine.” He grunted in response, seemed like something was on his mind troubling him. “Congratulations on the marriage news Mila.”

“Thanks.” I visibly cringed out of defence. San being the calculating and sly bane noticed the change in my demeanour.

“I wouldn’t congratulate her, knowing princess Mimi here,” he waved the pointer finger towards me  “she’d want the wedding over in any way possible.” The younger male smirked flinging his head back against the armrest of the extended chaise longue.

“Stop.” I mouthed, slightly hissing at him. He just wouldn’t cut his snarky attitude. I secretly hoped he’d choke on one of the grapes he was dropping into his mouth.

“Mila, is this true?”

I paused sighing. I noticed I’ve been doing that a lot more than the usual the past few days. Looking up to the taller male I caught his eyes with mine. They were blank.

From the early age of 6, I was amazed at how he could manipulate his voice to show emotion and sound genuine, when he truly felt not a single ounce of care or love for anyone or anything. Seonghwa being from a different mother along with my older brothers, it felt strange to have him around and so I never got to see him that much.

“I… it’s just-”

“Mila.” If I ever hated to hear my name come out of anyone’s voice in a calling tone it was my mothers. It gave me anxiety just hearing the two syllables.

“Yes mother?” I was barely able to blurt out the response, through my teeth I uttered the words loud enough for her to hear and enter the room.

“There you are, listen up.” “I just got off the phone with Mrs Choi, the date has been set and their family have accepted. Prepare yourself,”

“For what, when?” San asking the questions I needed to hear made me feel mixed emotions and all at the same time.

I felt grateful. I knew I couldn’t ,move my own tongue. It felt heavy. I opened my mouth, but I didn’t know what to say. It was like all knowledge of speaking had been erased from my mind.

At an unchanging moment I felt a rage and burning fury against him for being so oblivious and blind. Deep down I didn’t want to hear it. I never wanted to overhear a thing about this topic. I didn’t want him to ask, shed have to answer that way.

I already knew, I knew it from the moment she entered the room a bright grin plastered on her face. It wasn’t the marriage that had given me a little shock it was how soon it was.

I swore to myself that for a short moment, felt my heart pause. Was this what people said when they felt themselves have a heart attack?

 “You’re getting married, tomorrow.”

[duhliriouss]

Arthur Fleck One Shot: First Time

A/N: a request for @pcrushinnerd. This came out longer than expected and there was some technical difficulties (things got deleted and I got sad) but it’s all fixed now so enjoy 🤎

Summary: Y/N looses her virginity to a very confident Arthur, soothing all her insecurities and pain away during their first time.

Beta Reader: @arthur-flecks-lovely-smile I cant say thank you enough. You helped make this perfect and I am so grateful ❤️

Word count: 4,298

Warnings: Heavy Smut, mention of death, dominance

“Arthur!” Your voice beamed with excitement to see him as he came through the door. “I’ve been so worried about you, is everything al-“

Hungry lips smashed against yours in a second. You were taken by complete surprise as your body pushed backwards, ready to fall. But Arthur kept you up with his arm that slithered around the small of your back. His other arm went against the wall behind you to leverage the both of you from tumbling down. You weren’t used to Arthur being this demanding and confident.

You and Arthur have been dating for a few months now. But you’ve been Penny’s visiting physical therapist for over a year. Arthur always helped you take care of Penny and was attentively loving when it came to his mother. It held a soft spot for you and grew your crush over time. You were both very shy so it took awhile to announce your love to one another. But when you did, you both surprised each other with the mutual affection. Ever since then the two of you have been inseparable. Caring and loving one another delicately. However both being too shy, the farthest the two of you have gone was timid kisses and snuggling up with each other. Only once have you dared to sit on his lap and softly rub yourself up against him. Yet you were both too afraid to take it a step further, which only led to the two of you panting, too tired to continue from the ongoing heat.

But today was different. 

You placed your hands on Arthur’s chest and pushed him away, both gasping from the kiss.

“Arthur, is everything all right? How is your mother?” Arthur smiled, letting out a soft chuckle. Placing his lips on the top of your head and slowly swaying you back and forth.

“I’m doing wonderful my love. Penny’s dead”

“What?!” You managed to push yourself away from his strong arms and threw your hand over your mouth. “Oh my god.. Arthur is this true? How? How did this happen? The doctor said she was doing just fine now. I don’t und-“ Arthur interrupted you with his finger over your lips and shortened the distance between you again.

“Shhh it’s okay sweetheart. They assumed natural causes. She was already gone when I got there” he lied

Was he in shock?

You squinted your eyes slightly to get a better look at his face. Calm, collected.. smug? His pupils were dilated. You went to speak but closed your mouth again. You couldn’t find the words of what to say. You tried to calm him since it was clearly shock he was experiencing.

“Arthur...”

“Say my name again”

“Arthur?”

You gave him a shy but questioning look but before you could ask more questions to solve your confusion his lips were on you again. You’ve never felt such confidence in himself. Such hunger.

He parted your lips gently and slipped his tongue in, tasting every bit of you eagerly. Your body gave in and you melted in his arms, tasting him back. He gently pushed you back by your hips until your back hit the wall again. He went from your lips to the tip of your chin, then to your neck. Softly sucking and nipping at the most sensitive spot. You gasped as a tingling feeling went throughout your whole core.

Was this his way of dealing with shock?

You weren’t sure. But you couldn’t come up with anything to say or do. You were so distracted by this new pleasure he gave you. You couldn’t think straight.

You let out a small moan as he made his way to the center of your neck. His left arm was now on the wall behind you and his right cupped the other side of your neck. He pushed his arousal against you, suffocating you between him and the wall. You let another small whimper.

“Arthur.. please, can we talk about this? I am in just as much shock as you’re in.”

“Shh” he shushed you by bringing his head from your neck up to your ear, leaving a trail from his hot breath. “It’s okay Y/N, relax. I’m gonna fuck you now, okay?”

Your lips parted in a shocked gasp as your cheeks turned into a instant shade of rosy red. You’ve never heard Arthur say such words so boldly. You precisely had no words or actions on what to do. You looked up at him with wide eyes and saw a greedy, sinful smile and desire filled eyes looking back down at your own.

“It’s alright darling, no need to say or do anything”

god he read you like a book..

“I will do all that for you, I know you’re scared.” He started laughing. “You just got to let me know if I’m hurting you okay? Can you do that for me darling?”

“Yes...” you barley managed to breathe out. He was right. You were scared. You were a virgin and have been terrified all your life for this moment. His confidence was making you tremble in the most glorious way but it also intimidated you greatly. And seeing the circumstances on why he was doing this, there was just too much happening at once. Your mind was going a mile a minute.

“Good”

There was a silence at first as he leaned away, keeping his hands tightly grasped around your hips against the wall. He dug his fingers in as he looked you up and down, taking in his newfound task for the night.

You were a wearing a black shirt that was given to you from him since it was too small. A small cheap silver necklace that he had gifted you a week prior hung over the shirt. You also had red plaid pajama bottoms on that fit you appealingly. Though you didn’t feel attractive.. yet you watched as his tongue poked out just slightly enough to see him lick the inside of his bottom lip in a satisfied manner.

He saw what you couldn’t; Your hard nipples poking out of his shirt, the exposed skin from your lower tummy was freed above the waistline of your bottoms. He could see a hint of your black thong.

He let out a small breathy moan that could barley be heard as his left hand left your hip and tucked under your shirt. You felt the chill of his hand on your skin as he slowly and gently brushed his rough hand up your ribcage, bringing the shirt up with him, freeing your right breast. You flinched in embarrassment, turning your head to the side against the wall shutting your eyes tight. This was the first time Arthur has seen your breasts. Or anyone for that matter. You felt exposed.

“Oh darling.. don’t be ashamed. You’re even better than in my dreams, and you look so delightful in them”

he cupped your breast and finally took his right hand off your hip, bringing it to your chin, forcing you to look at him.

“Look at me sweetheart”

Your innocent (y/e/c) eyes looked up at him now. His eyes were dark and inviting. You saw expectation in his eyes. But you also saw trust. You knew you could back out now if you truly wanted to. But the look in his eyes answered all your ambiguities.

“Um.. Arthur?”

“Yes darling”

“Could you.. could you kiss my neck again?”

“There you go sweetheart. Use your words. But let me do you one better”

Arthur let go your breast and quickly removed your shirt, pulling it over you head, discarding it on the floor. You gasped in shock when he hurriedly grabbed ahold of the back of your thighs below your butt.

“Jump”

You complied and jumped. You must have underestimated his strength. He held you against himself smoothly while he carried you to the bedroom. You held on to him timidly almost like a baby Koala, your cheeks flushing even brighter with the realization of what was next. Were you really ready for this? There was no turning back now because these new feelings electrified throughout yourself.. And you needed more of it.

Your now freed breasts clunged against his vest, the material making them even more sensitive and hard. He placed you down gently on the unmade bed and stood up, looking down at you with a more genuine smile this time.

“Just stay still dear.”

You froze in place with your arms awkwardly by your sides as he reached down and roughly pulled your bottoms off along with your thong. You gasped and shot up

“A-Arthur! Wait!”

You abruptly sat up with your arms sitting you up on the bed, closing your legs together and bent in front of you. You were fully exposed now without anytime to brace yourself. Arthur ignored your clamor, getting on to the bed still fully clothed, hovering over you. He still held the same trust filled smile.

“You are so stunning Y/N. Don’t be shy now. I need to see all of you. Don’t you trust me?”

Without so much as a shy nod of your head, he shot you a mischievous smile opposing the one he had seconds earlier before spreading your legs with his hand, displaying every bit of you. You leaned your back against the pillows to be able to bring your hands to your face. You watched through your spread fingers to find Arthur staring at your lady parts in awe. You were already dripping onto the bed and down your thighs.

His eyes didn’t move as he spoke to you.

“Just breath and close your eyes doll, I promise you will enjoy every second of this”

You closed your fingers around your eyes. You weren’t sure exactly what he was going to do. You were already shaking in fear and anticipation. You didn’t have too much time to ponder over it however as you felt his warm breath on the inside of your thigh. You twitched from the light sensation and let out a small whimper. Light kisses started just below where your juices ended. He kissed you softly acting as If you’d shatter is he pressed any harder.

His intentions were not to terrify you more than he already has. He wanted you to experience as much as he could whilst keeping your love and trust, yet your eyes darkened with pure lust. You were touch starved now.

Arthur knew this as he felt your muscles relax. He continued by slowly starting to drag his tongue up to finally taste the sweet reply of his actions, Causing you to arch your back and neck. You let out a loud gasp and gripped the sheets beneath you. You felt and heard Arthur laugh between your legs, feeling his smirk against your skin, grabbing on to your hips to keep you flush to the mattress. And to cease your shaking legs.

“So responsive. I can only imagine what you’d do If I did this”

Without warning, Arthur continued to suck the wetness off your thighs closer now to your pussy as well as taking his left hand off your hip and instantly brushing between your folds with his long fingers. You moaned in response and gripped the sheets harder. You looked down now and watched as his face buried into the nook where your pussy met your thighs. You couldn’t get over the currents of electricity That ran through you as you watched in desperation. Arthur’s eyes snapped up to meet yours as he greedily sucked closer and closer to your core. But he only caught a short glimpse of your rosy flushed cheeks before firing your head back down against the pillows.

This was enough for Arthur. He was so driven by the innocent look on your face as he teased you. He couldn’t leave you in anticipation any longer.

His mouth finally made his way to your core, taking his tongue out and dragging it lazily up your drenched slit, all the while watching your every move. You shivered and whimpered more. And you couldn’t stop whimpering now. He began to add more pressure licking and flicking his tongue expertly.

You had no one to compare to but you couldn’t believe how good he was making you feel. And his confidence during all this was driving you over the edge. Arthur kept his smile plastered on his face as he ate you more greedily, sucking and tasting all the juices that left you. His hands dug into your hips. Your whimpers turned into cries mixed with gasps as you felt a very unfamiliar tightness build up in your abdomen.

Am I about to cum?

“Arthur I feel like I’m going to explode!”

“That means your about to cum darling” he spoke softly against your swollen pussy “and I’m not gonna let that happen just yet”

He abruptly pulled away. You whined from the sudden loss of his touch, feeling the tightness begin to disappear. Arthur brought himself up over you, catching a glimpse of his sinfully proud, wet smile before leaning down and kissing you passionately. Your lips moved rhythmically against his. He was making you taste how sweet you were. And you tasted so sweet.

“Feeling more relaxed now?” He asked against your lips as he began to trace his index finger around your entrance.

“Yes..” you managed to breath out.

“Good.. because I’m going to prepare you now”

“P-prepare me?”

“Yes. Take a deep breath for me sweetheart”

You took a deep breath and as you began to let it out, Arthur slowly pushed his index finger inside of you. He didn’t take his eyes off you as you gasped with discomfort. He let out an anguished sigh before quickly bringing up his hand to repeatedly stroke the hair behind your ear gently, trying to distract you from the pain he was so gravely creating.

His eyes turned even darker. But for that brief moment.. instead of lust, you saw the tenderness flash before his eyes. You saw the subtle hints of green beginning to return to his iris as he struggled to watch your distressed countenance. He watched your wide eyes painfully as he began to slowly pump his finger in and out of your wetness. You whined and cried.. but he continued, shushing you softly all the while.

He untangled his fingers from your hair. Then the finger than he fucked you with suddenly coming to a halt, but stayed inside of you.

“I’m gonna add a second finger now”

Before you could object, Arthur inserted a second finger and began to pump you again. You screamed out loud but Arthur quickly found your mouth with his own. He left his mouth slightly ajar to allow you to wine into his mouth. He opened his fingers slightly to try and stretch you out more. You screamed even louder in response, causing Arthur to grid his teeth abjectly as he swallowed your cries.

“I’m so sorry sweetheart, I’m sorry. Almost there. You’re doing so good”

Your whimpers started to die down as you watched and listened to his sweet nothings. He was lulling you into a soothing ,sedative state. Your pain was now distracted as he continued to pump and stretch his fingers inside of you. Your eyes never left each other’s.

“Shhh. There you go darling. That’s it”

Your heavy breathing began to die down as well. You couldn’t keep your eyes off his. You focused in closely as the still early dawn shown through the window of the bedroom, scattering across to the dew that illuminated in his eyes, illuminating your soul in return. You were in a trance and felt completely under his control. He took you in carefully, safe under his touches as he continued to reassure you through it all. The pain died down more and more as he continued.

Your small whines turned to moans as you felt the tightness well up in your core again. Arthur noticed the change in your eyes. You were starting to enjoy it, getting close to coming again and he knew it. His lips parted more in amusement as he looked down at your innocent lust-filled face.

He watched your features carefully as he began to bend his fingers into a “come here” motion, pumping you more steadily now. You let go of the sheets beneath you and went to place them on his chest, loosing control of your muscle spasms. But Arthur grabbed them gently before you could and placed them above your head keeping them in place. He forced his fingers deeper and his pace became more erratic.

Was he gonna let you cum this time?

Your breathing became rigid when you noticed he wasn’t stopping. You tried to keep your eyes open as you saw Arthur’s expression turn darker and more serious by the second. He was determined to be the one to decide upon your first orgasm. Your moans turned into whines again as you felt the sudden need to beg

“A-Arthur!!! Ple-ease! I c-can’t do itt!” You tried to free your hand as you begged but Arthur held them in the place.

“Yes you can, I can already feel you coming undone.. Stop fighting it”

His words was enough to send you over the edge. With a loud gasp you closed your eyes and arched your back fully, you felt the waves of your orgasm wash over you. Your body twitched and shook uncontrollably as a ringing sound took over your ears. Arthur kept his fingers inside of you to feel your first orgasm gush down them, onto his hand.

After your back found it’s way back to the mattress, Arthur removed his fingers and let go of your hands. You finally opened your eyes and shakily sat up only to find the sheets soaked. You froze, ashamed feelings washed over you again.

Was this normal?

Arthur’s voice interrupted your thoughts.

“Look how good you did darling” his voice was barley a whisper. “You couldn’t have done a better job. You never cease to amaze me”

Your eyes switched from the soaked sheets to Arthur who was kneeled in front of you. He was undoing his pants as he spoke to you. You were so overstimulated that you forgot about his main goal. It wasn’t over yet..

your shyness came back to you again and you didn’t know what to say. Arthur stayed focused on his belt as you sat there quietly in your own mess. Your mind went back to Penny. You thought about how wrong it felt being in the position you were in just finding out about her death. You bundled yourself up in a cradle like position, letting a small tear trickled down your cheek. You were lost in your tragic thoughts until you felt Arthur’s finger catch the tear before falling further down your cheek.

“Don’t cry sweetheart, I know it hurt at first. But you have admit how worth it it was in the end” his voice was husky and cracking as he spoke. He didn’t know you were crying over Penny as well.

You lifted your head timidly to meet his. His hand was still on your cheek. Your eyes widened as you saw where his other hand laid. You watched in astonishment as Arthur stroked himself with his pants hiked down around his mid thighs. His right went from your cheek to the skin down on your neck, tickling the sensitive spot that he sucked on before leading you to the bedroom. He was definitely above average. Not huge but strikingly more intimidating than his slim fingers. You parted your lips and stared. You weren’t sure how long you stared for until you heard Arthur laughing above at your chastity. You darted your eyes upwards to meet his and thankfully before you could think of something to say, he cut your gracelessness by letting go of his cock and giving you a slight tap on your chest with his finger, causing you to tip backward back onto the bed. Your back thudded against the pillows. Wasting no time, Arthur pushed your legs back open with his knees. He lined up his cock and leaned forward until his face was less than inch away from yours, letting his brown, loose curls tickle your face and shoulders.

He began to speak to you while rubbing his tip between your glistening folds.

“I want to you look at me okay? And don’t look away.”

“Arthur.. I’m too scared. You’re a lot bigger than your fingers”

“And remember how good it began to feel? I promise you it won’t last forever love. You just need to look at me..”

You lifted your head to look at him fully now. His eyes were gentle, soft, inviting. You were still confused however. One moment he seemed aggressive. Out for his own gain. But then the next moment he was loving and gentle. He kept going back and forth. Arthur waited patiently for your rambling mind to subside. You made it so obvious when your mind was racing. You cleared your throat.

“My beautiful girl, are you ready?”

You hesitantly nodded your head.

“Deep breath darling”

You breathed in shakingly deep this time. Your eyes never left each other’s as Arthur very slowly sheathed himself inside of you. Your pussy was slick enough to take him with ease. But still, the stretching of your walls caused you to roll your head back and shut your eyes tight in discomfort, gridding your teeth and hissing.

Arthur quickly grabbed your hip with his left hand and then used his right to grab your jaw and gently force your head back up to meet his gaze.

“I said don’t stop looking at me. Trust me, please”

He kept his hand gently around your jaw as he fully sheathed himself inside of you. You were already throbbing but you kept your eyes to his. Your chest was heaving as you tried to get your breathing under control from this discomfort. Arthur paused once he was fully inside you. He leaned down and talked against your parted lips.

“It’s okay.. I know, I know it hurts..I’m sorry.”

“I want this Arthur... I’m ready” you managed to breath out

Arthur steadied his posture and leaned his forehead against yours.

“Deep breath”

You inhaled sharply as Arthur slowly pulled out of you until it was just his tip. As you breathed out, he kissed the tip of your nose and pushed back in fully, making you gasp loudly. You threw your hands above your head to grab the bottom of the headboard, stabilizing yourself from flailing.

“Again” he demanded tenderly

Another deep inhale, another scream.

“You’re okay. You’re so brave. Almost there sweetheart. Keep going”

Inhale, a whine this time

“Shhh... Shh.”

With each gentle thrust the pain became less and less. Arthur continued to lull you as your screams died down to whines. He tried to focus on lightly stretching you even though the tightness of your walls and the flushed look on your innocent face was unwinding him more and more with each thrust. He kept his face inches from yours with his mouth ajar, taking in every feature of your reactions.

You never kept your eyes off him now. You swallowed each other’s moans and sighs. Arthur observed how your pains turned into pleasure so he picked up the pace. His eyes finally left yours and landed on your heaving breasts. He let out a gratified groan before leaning down and sucking on your nipples generously. He wasn’t being as soft now seeing how your body answered to his vigilance differently.

You took this opportunity to finally let your head lean back, opening up your new-found senses. You moaned to the nibbles Arthur continued to display on your nipples. Your head swam with pleasure you’ve never felt before. The pain was almost completely gone, being overridden with the pulsing bliss that flowed through every vein of your being. Arthur’s thrusts became more and more erratic. His eyes were clouded with lust as he looked up again to only find your exposed neck since your head was still leaned back

“Look at me Y/N”

You snapped your head back up and looked into his eyes, no longer seeing any hints of green.

“I want you to cum for me again”

“Okay..”

You weren’t sure exactly how to cum on command. But before you could think too much into it, Arthur licked his finger then dragged his hand down your body until he reached your swollen bud. He began to draw vicious circles, then used his other hand to kneed at your, now inflamed, breasts. He leaned down into your neck and bit down hard. All of this happened at once which caused you to pant unevenly. And you both came instantly.

Arthur moaned loudly into your neck as he bit down even harder, feeling yourself come undone underneath him. Arthur stayed still as you rode out your second orgasm, wiggling and twitching beneath him... all the while spilling his own seed inside of you.

Arthur grabbed on to your side and shoulder blade, keeping you in place until you calmed down. Your eyes held a haze over them once you finally relaxed and looked over at him. He was smiling.

Such a satisfied smile.

“Arthur?” Your voice was trembling

“Yes darling?” He purred, still panting

“I.. I can’t feel my legs!”

Arthur began to laugh at your naive, serious tone as he watched your (y/e/c) eyes flick anxiously back and forth to each of his own.

“You fascinate me Y/N. Let’s get you cleaned up and I can rub your legs. Sound good love?”

“Yes please..”

[acdeaky]

five ways

john’s birthday week - part 7

warning: fluff, angst, dialogue heavy at parts, foul language

note: i hope you’ve enjoyed john’s special birthday week! i really enjoyed writing some of these in the past week (even though it was a little stressful!) thank you for all the support forever and always xoxo

word count: 2.6k

1. (1964)

“deaky, no!” you squealed as john chased you around the garden. it was summer, and after the big freeze of 1963, everyone was happy to finally be feeling some heat. it was the second day of the summer holidays for you both, and you were enjoying as much time together as possible.

“i’m gonna get you!” john called after you, trying to move his legs faster so he could catch up to you. your little legs were moving as fast as they could to get away from john (who had threatened to tickle you once he caught you). he knew how badly ticklish you were, so threatening tickles meant hell for you.

“deaky, i’m gonna trip!” you worried as you found yourself running down the cracked path towards the front of john’s house. it had been broken for years. john’s father had always made an example that he was going to fix it, but when he passed away suddenly, no one had the heart to fix it; it was like the path was one of the last things of john’s father.

“be careful then!” he chattered, laughing still as he seemed to be catching up with you. it wasn’t long until what you had feared came true. your entire body flew forward as your toe had just caught the edge of a tile. your knees scraped against the ground as your hands flew in front of you to prevent your head from hitting the hard concrete.

john stopped right beside you as you laid on the floor, your hair sticking to your tears and covering your face.

“Y/N!” he gasped, dropping to his knees to help you up. he grabbed under your arm and pulled you up as gently as he could. you managed to sit on your bottom, both of your legs stretched in front of you, scraped and bleeding. your hands were slightly marked, too, but they didn’t hurt as much as your knees did.

“i’ll go get my mum.” john fussed, his hand moving your hair out of your face and wiping your tears (which was quickly replaced by fresh ones). he jumped up, rushed inside and called his mother. lilian grabbed the first aid kit while john grabbed you some tissues. once they came outside, they kneeled on opposite sides of you, john near your head and lilian by your knees.

john’s mum was talking to you, but you couldn’t fully hear over your tears and the pain. a scraped knee wasn’t bad, but to you, it was the worst pain you’ve experienced in your young life. john sat and wiped your tears everytime they fell from your eyes as his mum cleaned your cuts, disinfected them and placed a plaster on each knee to stop the bleeding.

it took about five minutes and your tears, not your pain, had stopped. john and lilian helped you stand and held your hands as you hobbled into the house. they sat you down on the sofa, john sitting next to you and lilian going to get you both a cup of water and a snack. john wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you gently so you were leaning against his side.

your head resting against his shoulder as he rubbed your shoulder comfortingly. “are you okay, bug?”

“yeh, better now.” you nodded, smiling slightly at the nickname that had happened because you had a small fascination with a bug once. john turned his head slightly, placing a soft kiss on the top of your head. your smile grew bigger slightly as you seemed to move closer to john (if that was even possible).

“you’re my best friend, bug.”

2. (1969)

“but do you have to go? you’ll be so far away.” you whined as john packed the car with his suitcases. it was late august and john was attended university, a whole two hours away from you.

“bug, it’s the best place for what i want to do. the uni is praised on its science and technology courses and i can’t miss out. i want to be the best electrical engineer there ever has been.” he placed himself on a podium as he lifted his last bag into the boot.

“you can be the best electrical engineer no matter where you go, deaks. you’re so smart and amazing at what you do already, it won’t matter what uni you’re at.”

“bug, please. i’m going, don’t make it any harder than it has to be.” he sighed facing you and holding your hands gently.

“i’m sorry, i’m just gonna miss you, that’s all. after ten years we won’t be neighbours anymore. you’ll be swanning around uni while i’m here working for another year.” you both laughed at that. john being a year older than you sometimes had its perks, but at times like this, a whole year seemed like a lifetime.

“i’m gonna miss you, too, love. i know it’ll be hard, but you can visit me on weekends or when you have time off work and i’ll be home every holiday, you’ll be wanting to get rid of me!”

“i’ll never want rid of you, deaky.” you smiled brightly, pulling him forwards and into your arms. you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him as close to you as possible. john did the same, but with his arms around your waist. your head he snuggled its way into his neck as he rested his chin on top of your shoulder.

“i’ll see you soon, bug. you’re my best friend.”

3. (1971)

“you made it!” john smiled widely as he saw you backstage. it was queen’s first ever gig as the four of them and you weren’t going to miss it for the world.

“of course i made it!” you replied, opening your arms as you walked towards john. he wrapped his arms around your waist, lifting you up and spinning you around. both of you giggled loudly, smiling wider than you have before.

john soon put you down, realising spinning equals being dizzy. he kept his body holding yours, pulling you impossibly closer to his body as he held you tightly. “i’ve missed you so much, bug.” he mumbled into your shoulder.

“i’ve missed you so much, too, deaky, but it’s only been a couple of months.”

“so i cant miss my best friend now, is that what you’re telling me?” he teased, his fingers beginning to dig into your sides.

“no, no! i was just saying- deaky, don’t!” he pressed harder. “john richard, i swear to god.” he laughed at your worry and your attempts at escaping his grasp.

the only reason you stopped was because a loud cough erupted behind you. you and john practically pushed yourselves away from each other, creating a distance you so desperately didn’t want.

you looked to see the band who john played with that night. what a great first impression.

“i see you’ve found your friend, deaky,” the short one with dark brown wavy hair said. “i’m freddie, darling. freddie mercury.” he stuck his hand out to shake yours. you were apprehensive at first, but john nudged your arm, encouraging you to shake freddie’s hand.

“and i’m brian may.” the tallest one with dark brown curly hair spoke, reaching his hand out to do the same.

“and i’m roger taylor, but you can call me tonight.” the shorter one with beautiful blond hair spoke, taking your hand and pressing a soft kiss on it.

“oh, come off it, rog. can’t you see she’s smitten with john?” freddie spoke, motioning to the closeness of you and john. you weren’t smitten with john. maybe you were, but you weren’t about to openly admit that.

“i’m not- there’s nothing- me and john-”

“we’re friends guys, best friends.”

4. (1975)

“thank god you’re here, bug,” john sighed, pulling you in to a tight hug as soon as you had walked on the bus. “i don’t know how much longer i could deal with those fuckers for.”

“deaky, it’s been two hours at the most!” you giggled, accepting the hug and pulling him closer to you.

“i know that, but they’ve already been... difficult.”

“in what way?” you asked, pulling away from his embrace, but keeping your hands on his shoulders.

“they- they’re just-,” his fingers fumbled around on your hips, pulling them closer to his own. “i- there’s, well there’s this girl-”

“oh.”

“what?” he noticed the quiver in your voice. “what? no, no, bug-”

“no, john, carry on. it’s okay. just tell me.” your hips were still joined together, but your hands hand slid down from his shoulders onto his biceps.

“okay, well, there’s this girl and i’ve known her for a while and when the boys mention her or i talk about her, i can’t help be blush and think about how beautiful she is.”

“oh, john.” there was nothing else you could think of to say. you let go of his arms, pulling yourself out of his grasp and away from him. his hand reached out to grab you, but you simply pushed him away.

“bug, listen-”

“john, please. don’t.”

“bug, it’s you. it’s always been you,” he grabbed your hand, but you still wouldn’t look at him. “it’s been you since i met you. Y/N, please. look at me.”

the desperation in his voice was something you couldn’t ignore. you turned your entire body back towards john, looking him directly in the eyes.

“it’s you. the girl i talk about, the girl i think about, the girl that makes me blush. it’s you.”

you pushed towards him, your arms wrapping themselves around john’s neck like they have done for years. his hands found your hips again, pushing your bodies closer together.

“i thought i was just your best friend?” your foreheads touching, lips ghosting over the other’s.

“always have, always will be my best friend, bug.”

5. (1977)

“ah!” freddie exclaimed, his arms opening to you as soon as you walked into their hospitality room. “we’ve been waiting for you, darling.” he brought you close to him, hugging you tightly.

“you only saw me the other week, fred,” you giggled, pulling away from him. “what’s so special about this time you’re seeing me?” the glint in his eye told you john was involved. if anything happened between you and john (or even if he just saw you and john together), freddie would get all happy and excited, the usual glint in his eyes brightening.

“ah, you see, this time john isn’t here so we have you all to ourselves!”

“very funny, fred. where’s john?” you playfully rolled your eyes and freddie gave you a knowing look.

“lover boy is on the stage.”

“i thought he had finishing rehearsing?” all freddie did was shake his head. you looked at brian and roger for any indication as to what was going on, but they gave away nothing. looking back at freddie, he had a beaming smile on his face.

“aren’t you going to find him?”

“you,” you pointed directly at freddie as you stood in the doorway, “are scaring me more than usual.” freddie simply laughed, his smile seemingly wider. with one last look at the three of them, you left the hospitality room, winding down corridor upon corridor to find your way to the stage.

it was dark when you arrived. none of the stage lights or arena lights were on, creating a daunting atmosphere.

“john!” you called out, quickly doubting if he was even there. no answer came, only a light. right in front of you, it was illuminating an area sprinkled with rose petals. as soon as you stepped into the light, it moved, revealing a long trail of petals and a few polaroid photos of you and john througout the years. each time you passed one, you picked it up, stopping periodically to remember the fond memory.

the trail continued, the light still guiding you on the stage. as soon as you reached the end, you saw a polaroid of you and john the previous week. it had been taken by freddie of the two of you saying goodbye for another few weeks. tears stained both of your cheeks while you smiled happily together. even though you were about to leave the other, the happiness was real, and you could vividly remember the teary goodbye.

as soon as you looked up from the polaroid, a couple more lights had been turned on, revealing john holding a bouquet of yellow roses, his hand nonchalantly in his pocket. you smiled widely when you saw him. he gave you a smile, as equally big, back.

“hi, love.” he said, shifting in his position slightly.

“hi, deaks.” you bit your lip, stopping your grin from growing too big.

“i- uh, th-these are for you.” he held out the bouquet, promoting you to move closer to him.

“thank you,” you smiled, taking the roses from him and smelling them. “they’re gorgeous, deaky.”

“Y/N,” john started, taking his hand out of his pocket and kneeling down, opening a black velvet box to reveal the mose beautiful silver and diamond ring you’ve ever seen, “ive waited my entire life for this moment. the day i met you, i knew you’d be in my life forever. and now i’m going to make sure that happens.” he chuckled, making you giggle, too.

“there hasn’t been a day where i haven’t loved you. even as a little eight year old boy, i loved you. i love you, still, but growing up with you was the greatest pleasure i’ve had, and i want to grow old with you, too. the time you scraped your knee on my old garden path, i knew i loved you. the time i left home for university, i knew i loved you. the time you met the boys and i said we were just friends, i knew i loved you. the time i asked you to be my girlfriend, i knew i loved you. i wanted to save so much for you, and i have. now, we can be happy together for the rest of our lives and i can learn to love you all over again.

“Y/N L/N, would you give me the greatest pleasure of becoming your husband? will you marry me?”

“oh, john,” you gasped, your hand covering your mouth as tears began to well in your eyes. “yes! yes, of course i’ll marry you!”

john immediately stood up from the ground, moving closer to you to close the gap. both of your hands were shaking as he pulled out the ring, sliding it on your left ring finger. short chuckles left both of your mouths as you stood in shock at what had just happened. as soon as he pushed the ring all the way down, you stretched out your hand, admiring the way the stone gleamed in the low light.

“it’s beautiful, baby.” you whispered, pressing your hand against your chest.

“not as beautiful as you, bug.” he replied in a whisper, pulling you tight against his body by your hips. your hands cupped his cheeks, bringing his lips down to meet yours. it was soft, full of love and passion. a kiss you’d never felt before. something new. something better than before.

“i love you.” he smiled against your lips, his hot breath fanning over you.

“and i love you, john.”

-

TAGLIST: @never-kept-the-same-address @j0hn-deaky @sohoneyspreadyourwings @brian-maybe-not @deakysbabybooty @1001-yellow-daffodils @retromusicsalad @hardcoredisneynerd @painkiller80 @leatherjacketmazzello @scarecrowmax @mebeatlized @seesiderendezvous @alright-mrfahrenheit @someone-get-a-medic @miamideacon @chlobo6 @teenagepeterpan @spacedust1124719 @deakysgurl

[bloody-delicious]

Hey I loved your fic with Buhguul and a stressed reader. Can I please ask for the same but instead it would be with how Patrick Bateman or Harry Warden would care for a reader?

thank you! 💕

(also im sorry these took so long-im afraid their quality doesnt make up for it lol, i hope these are okay)

patrick bateman x stressed s/o

you had been sitting there for what felt like, and, in all probability, most likely was, hours. patrick’s usual spotless living room was now in disarray, folders and papers with scribbled unintelligible shorthand and crude sketches littered everywhere, with you, a picture of haggard exhaustion, eyes drooped with dark circles and painted with red lines that displayed your dilapidated state of being for all to see, positioned in the center of the chaos. body slouched over the heap of work before you, the crinkle of papers was the only sound audible in the empty space, besides that of the gentle hum of the new york city’s night life beginning to emerge from the shadows for a period of lawless play, sin hidden from the eyes of the exposing rays of daylight as the sun dipped below the crimson skyline.

you knew that you would eventually have to surrender to your aching body and clean up the mess you had made, as patrick would be home soon, and you knew that the sight of his apartment in such disorder would not spur a pleasant reaction. not wishing to flirt with such a dangerous notion, you decided that you should return the space to its original immaculate state sooner rather than later. with a heavy sigh, you picked yourself up from the floor, bones cracking and muscles stretching with a stab of pain, resisting the sudden movement. one by one, the work is picked up from the floor with aching hands, stuffed into their according folders, and though the incessant work disappears from sight, it lingers in your head like a throbbing tumor, keeping you from enjoying any moment of real peace. the folders are placed lazily on the coffee table, and you slump to your previous position on the floor, eyes glazed and staring at the now organized stack of unfinished papers.

even when the shuffling outside the door becomes audible and the sound of keys fitting into the lock reaches your ears, the door opening and the sound of tom ford oxford loafers stepping into the apartment pierces your silence, you remain in your trance, all of your senses numbed by your prostrated condition. heels clicked sharply on the floor, patrick walking further into the room, his sense of authority almost materializing as a tangible presence, his cold and almost foreboding demeanor suffocating the air. your partner was a powerful man, and though you were well aware of the threat he posed at all times, you had grown used to his degenerated mien, and became accustomed to his constant attitude of superiority, the perverted manner with which he held himself.

“what are you doing, y/n?”

patricks voice sounded peculiar, more peculiar than his normal tone. the facade of the typical upper class businessman had not yet faded away, his voice still carrying the faux sincerity that every yuppie in the entire state spoke with.

“work,” you mumbled, rubbing your inflamed eyes with weary hands.

“what did you say? i cant hear you when you mumble.”

his voice developed a more sinister undertone, a threatening connotation that you knew was not to be provoked further.

“work,” you repeated, this time fully articulating yourself. you didnt look over at him, head still resting in your palms.

your heard the heels begin to click across the floor again, increasing in sound as the man made his way over to you. you felt him sit on the couch behind you, body stiff, tense, like a predator ready to claim its prey. he was always like this. you had no idea how he maintained such a defensive state around the clock, how his mind could handles such endless rigidity. after a bit of an awkward silence, patricks hand finds its way to your hair, smoothing stray strands and feeling them on his skin. he continues to play with your locks, starting to almost pull on them, though it isnt to the point of pain. you sigh and try to relax your body, leaning back into his strong hands. his begins to pull harder on your hair, occasionally wrapping fistfuls in his palms, and small twinges of pain begin to take root in your scalp.

you say his name in an attempt to signal to him that hes hurting you, but he doesnt seem to hear, or he just doesnt listen. his hand wraps around your soft hair, suddenly gripping it and tugging on it with force. you let out a surprised cry and instinctively jump away, your hand going up to touch your head.

“patrick!” you scold, looking back at him. you can barely muster the energy to reprimand your lover, and youre sure that your words are not very intimidating, with obvious exhaustion laced in your voice and written on your face. patrick sits with his elbows resting on his knees, observing you with no expression. it appears that both of you are lost in your own little worlds.

“that hurt,” you say, hoping to reach him this time. nothing. he watches you still with emotionless eyes. the two of you sit in silence before he suddenly speaks.

“do you want to go out to dinner? wherever you want.”

his lips twist into a smile, but you do not reciprocate it.

“if you want to,” you sigh, knowing that trying to bring up the previous topic is useless. “im feeling really tired today. work is getting to me.”

there is another period of silence, and you see patricks face begin to change. it almost becomes darker, menacing.

“we could…do something else,” patrick suggests, his words practically dripping with a malicious nuance, immediately alerting you as to what he has in mind.

“no, patrick. you might like butchering people, but i dont. thats youre thing, not mine.”

patricks grin only grows wider at your words.

“whats the name of your boss again? i cant seem to remember.”

“no.”

“you said work was stressing you out, didnt you?”

“yes-“

“so let off a little steam, y/n, it’ll be a blast,” he interrupts, a wild look beginning to form in his eyes, excitement growing in his voice.

you let out a groan and turn away from him, putting your aching head back in your hands.

“im gonna call it a night, patrick.”

you gather yourself from the floor and attempt to leave the room, but a wrist grabs your hand with a tight grip, stopping you from going any further. you turn you gaze to patrick, who suddenly stands, bringing himself closer to you, his breath hot on your neck.

“dont you want to let off some steam, y/n?” his smile is wolfish and predatory, eyes locked in on his prey held firmly in his grasp. his free hand grazes the skin of your shoulder, his deviant intentions clear even through something as innocent as a slight touch. “you know i can make you feel better.”

his advances are appealing, but any activity with patrick is rather risky, and youd rather not wake up with the task of covering hickey after countless hickey, wrapping bite after bite, cleaning scratch after scratch. still, he is right in one aspect: you really do need to release some of the tension inside. his smooth, strong hand reaches your throat, gently caressing the skin before abruptly tightening his grasp, essentially choking you. you let out a startled gasp, and patrick only presses a rough kiss to your lips to silence you, teeth biting your lower lip. you begin to melt into his touch, knowing that youll be tired in the morning, knowing that it will be a rough night, knowing that god, you really do need this right now.

——————————

when you woke, it was still dark, your room illuminated only by the glow of the city outside the window. the sheets were tangled around your bare body, and, when you attempted to move, you felt the pangs of pain from the wounds given to you by patrick. eyes still heavy with sleep, you looked to your side to see him, still submerged in the bliss of sleep. when you looked closer, however, you noticed something odd covering his body. upon further inspection, you saw that your lover was painted with splatters of blood. panic rushing through your veins, you were about to wake him when you spotted something in your peripheral vision. laying before your bed was a body, surrounded by a pool of blood. slowly crawling over the bed to get a better view, you realized that the body was that of your boss. stab wounds littered his body, his striped suit tainted with a deep red pigment, eyes closed and blood trickling down his lips, his face pale as the moon in the midnight sky. you looked back to patrick, lying so peacefully in bed, covered in the blood of your (now former) boss. the man you had come to recognize as your partner seemed to have displayed the body before you as a gift, a sign of love, perhaps. his rather gruesome way of showing his devotion. you extended your hand to him, stroking his dark hair. you would deal with the consequences in the morning. the light would make everything clearer.

harry warden x stressed s/o

it was cold in valentine bluffs. winter was beginning to settle into the small town, extending its icy fingers through every corner and into every home. snow had begun to fall and formed a thin sheet over every surface, carrying with it a bitter wind that left most of the people within the town closing their doors and favoring a warm day inside, with heat flooding from their furnaces and hearty food cooking on the stove. you were among those who sheltered themselves from the cold weather, though your home was less comforting as opposed to the latter population. you sat at your desk, filling out paperwork that was meaningless to you, wishing for nothing more than to be done with such a tedious task. while you had accomplished quite a bit, there was still so much more to be done. a stack of papers as thick as a textbook sat adjacent to you, a constant reminder of how you would most likely be seated there for the rest of the day. not to mention the fact that you still had to fix that creaky hinge on the door that had been pestering you all week, along with the knowledge that tomorrow was monday, which meant that you would have to face the frigid outdoors to reach your workplace. a large sigh escaped your fatigued body, and you slumped down onto your desk, resting your head on the hard wood. it was hard to say how long you had been lying there before you heard the floor creak behind you. you raised your head lazily, turning around in your chair to see a man clad in a dark miner’s outfit and mask observing you from the doorway. you huffed with amusement, a small smile forming on your lips.

“harry, i dont think you need to wear that suit in here.”

still, he stood, his only movement the rise and fall of his shoulders with each heavy breath. since you two had begun your rather…odd relationship, and harry had moved in with you, he rarely took his uniform off, though you were sure it was quite uncomfortable. you knew that the man you loved was very troubled, and would need time to heal his wounds, you wished that he could at least feel comfortable in your own home someday. you rose from your chair and walked over to him, stopping right before your face was inches from his. the man never moved, or even flinched, simply stared down at you, his powerful form towering over yours. you raised your hands to cup his mask, and his hands instinctively grabbed yours, ready to push them away.

“wait,” you relented, keeping your grasp on the dark fabric. “what if i give you something in return?” harry didnt give in, and pried your hands off of him.

“okay,” you said softly in response to his movements. “i have to finish up some work, we can do whatever you want when im done, yeah?” you smiled at his expressionless mask, turning to return to that awful desk, that endless pile of paperwork. suddenly, a gloved hand seized your wrist, and you looked behind you to see harry, who had moved forward and grabbed you to stop you from leaving.

“come on, harry, i have to do this,” you told the masked man, a yawn nearly interrupting your speech. still, harry didnt move at your request, still keeping his grip on your arm tight.

you raised an eyebrow at him, turning around to make it easier to face him.

“itll only take a little while,” you lied. harry tugged on your arm this time, pulling you back towards him.

“harry-“

he shook his head, gazing down at your tired eyes. your hand in his, harry led you away from your desk, away from the incomplete stack of work that nagged at the back of your mind. harry brought you to the living room, simply bringing you to the couch in front of the radiating fireplace. you sat down next to him, the warmth from the hearth soothing your aching muscles. harry settled beside you, his eyes transfixed on the flames that blazed before the two of you. the image of the fire reflected in the eyes of his mask, and you stared, watching them flicker. harry turned his head as he felt your eyes on him, and a moment passed before harry took your hand again. this time, he brought it to his mask, and you suddenly realized that he was giving you permission to remove it. with anxious hands, you pulled off the mask, revealing harrys face, the fire giving his skin a warm red tint. you smiled at the image of your lover, and held his face in your hands, pressing a kiss to his lips. you thought you had felt the hint of a smile form on his lips. pulling away, you rested your head on the mans shoulder, the heat from the fireplace, the sound of harrys steady breaths, the warmth of the entire setting providing a calming lullaby that relieved all of the growing stress in your body and mind, until nothing remained but pure, simple peace.

[huphilpuffs]

flares

chapter: 25/? summary: Dan’s body has been broken for as long as he can remember, and he’s long since learned to deal with it. Sort of. But when his symptoms force him to leave uni and move into a new flat with a stranger named Phil, he finds that ignoring the pain isn’t the way to make himself happy. word count: 3065 rating: mature warnings: chronic illness, chronic pain, medicine a/n: a huge thanks goes to @obsessivelymoody for beta reading this for me!

Ao3 link || read from beginning

Dan wakes up on Thursday to a heaviness in his chest.

He groans before he even opens his eyes. His face is squished against a pillow, his ribs pressed too harshly against the mattress. Stabs of pain burst between them, make his muscles spasm and send his breath escaping in a stutter. He has to count, one, two, three, four to keep it from happening a second time.

It eases some when he rolls onto his back.

And he tries to comfort himself further by counting out how long it’s been since he’s been able to sleep on his stomach. Too long, probably.

He’s been getting better, though. Even staring at the bedroom ceiling through his tears, Dan knows that. Knows the he’s helped Phil with dinner the last few nights, and managed to handle the curtains being open for a few hours yesterday.

His hand smoothes across his sternum, and he pokes at the painful spots in his sides until the sharpness dulls.

It’s enough to let Dan sit up, then stand on shaky knees. He tosses Phil’s pillow back to where it belongs and tucks the duvet into place to prove the voice in his head, wondering why he’s suddenly worse again, that he’s fine.

And to ignore the second voice, telling him it’s anxiety that causes your pain, over and over again.

His appointment is in a day.

Dan’s hardly slept for three.

He tries to swallow back a sigh. Whatever rush of adrenaline had dragged him out of bed has faded, left fatigue settling heavy in his bones again. He could drag himself to the lounge, curl up in his blankets and continue his new daily routine of watching people on YouTube for hours.

But his body aches and his eyes burn, and he crawls back into bed instead.

The voice in his head grows louder.

Dan grabs Phil’s pillow, clutches it ot his chest and presses his face against the fabric, breathing deeply.

It smells like Phil.

He holds it until he falls back asleep.

---

The afternoon drags.

It’s past two when Dan wakes up again. The flat is still empty, the bed unmade again. He crawls out without bothering to fix it, makes himself a sandwich, and settles back on the sofa, where he can rest his head against the cushions and ignore the tightness around his heart.

Every time he turns on his phone, it’s too a notification reminding him he has an appointment tomorrow that has his muscles seizing, making it ache to breathe.

And to a reminder he half regrets setting, since he’s ignored it for days.

Call mum.

There’s only a few hours to follow through with it now.

He glances back at the clock that tells him it’s just ticking past three. Twenty-five hours left, says the voice in his head. It sounds like the last GP he saw, who looked him in the eyes and told him to try acting like he had more energy, who told him it would help.

You should try it, his mum had said afterwards. You never know unless you do.

Dan’s thumb swipes across the screen. He finds her contact, sucks in a breath, and hits the call button.

He doesn’t breathe again until she picks up on the third ring.

“Hi, Dan,” she says.

He hasn’t heard her voice since he decided to stay here. It feels like a lifetime ago, suddenly.

“Hi, mum.”

There’s silence for a long moment. He can hear her breathing over the line, low and steady, and wonders if she can hear the shakiness in his.

“How are you?” she asks

“I’m okay,” he says. “I, uh, have a doctor’s appointment tomorrow.”

“Oh?”

He swallows, nodding even though she can’t see him. “Just with my new GP, but I’m hoping he might be able to help me,” he says. “With, well, you know.”

“I hope he can.”

She sounds sad. It’s been a long time since Dan’s heard that.

“Me too,” he says. And then, because he can’t handle the silence: “But, uh, I was hoping you could maybe help me figure out my medical history, to prepare? I don’t remember all of it from when I first got sick.”

Back when she was responsible for it, he doesn’t say. Back when anyone could keep track of all of it.

“I’ll text it to you, okay?” she says. “I know your memory isn’t always the best, and your wrists tend to ache from writing.”

“Really?” He slams his mouth shut, the click of his teeth probably audible over the phone. “I mean, thanks.”

She chuckles, quiet, distant, like he can hear the miles between them. “I’m not always heartless, you know,” she says.

Dan’s breath comes out in a rush. Guilt bursts in its place, painful, bringing tears to his eyes. And he wants to tell her he never thought she was, but he can’t. She knows he can’t. He doesn’t even know what he thinks about her now, crying, hands shaking as he clutches his phone too tightly.

“Can I ask you something?” she says. “Without you getting mad?”

“Yeah.”

“How are you doing?” she says. “I know you don’t think your problems are with your mental health, and I’m not implying they are–” the not this time goes unspoken “–but I know you’ve had bad experiences with doctors and you’re my son.”

His breath catches. A tear rolls down his cheek, and he wipes it away with his hand.

This is his first appointment without her, he realizes. The first one in six years that she’s not driving him to, waiting outside or sitting next to him for the length of it. The first time she won’t smooth his hand over his knee in the waiting room, telling him it’ll be okay, that doctors can be trusted, even though they’d been proving otherwise for so long.

“I’m okay,” he says. “Phil’s coming with me.”

“That’s good,” she says, like she means it. “I am glad you have him, you know.”

He almost reminds her what she thought of him living with Phil last time they spoke, but his heart aches and his eyes are stinging and he doesn’t want to fight, not this time.

“Me too,” he says. “He’s the best, mum.”

She sounds like she’s smiling when she says: “I’d love to meet him, one day.”

Dan swallows. He can hardly picture it, bringing Phil back to a house filled with terrible memories and people he still doesn’t trust entirely. And yet there’s a tug in his chest, a bittersweet image forming in the back of his mind.

He doesn’t say anything.

Neither does she, for a while.

“I should get going,” is what she ends up saying. “As long as you’re okay? I’ll text you your medical information in a little bit.”

“Okay,” he says. “I’m okay. Thank you.”

She hums. “And Dan?”

“Yeah?”

“You should call your grandma. She misses her sofa buddy.”

He chuckles. It aches. Suddenly, he’s exhausted again. “Okay. I will,” he promises. “And mum?”

“Yeah?”

“No news is good news, okay? If I don’t call you after the appointment, I mean.”

“Okay,” she says. “Bye.”

“Bye.”

The line goes dead.

His head falls back against the cushion and his phone drops onto the sofa. Tears are rolling down his cheeks, and he’s not entirely sure he knows why.

Or maybe he just can’t untangle all the many, many reasons.

---

Phil’s quiet when he gets home.

He takes the smoothie Dan didn’t touch and sets it on the coffee table before dropping onto the empty cushion. His arm is draped across the back of the cushion, his hip just inches from Dan’s, as he turns his gaze to the open laptop, lit up with another Smosh video.

Dan’s been watching them mindlessly since his tears dried on his cheeks.

“This is a good one,” says Phil.

It’s an older one, the production value a little cheaper and humour a tad outdated. Probably more similar to what Phil had watched back at uni, Dan thinks. He tries to imagine it, a younger version of Phil, one with longer hair and a slightly narrower frame, sitting in a uni room like the one Dan moved out of before coming here.

He hardly can. Maybe because his mind is still muddled, hanging onto words he said during the phone call, onto all the things he should have said but didn’t.

“It is,” he says, just as the video ends.

He doesn’t start a new one.

Phil’s fingers sweep across his shoulder. In Dan’s peripheral, he can see Phil turn to look at him, but he doesn’t look back.

“Are you okay?” asks Phil.

Dan swallows. There’s a lump in his throat, a pressure behind his eyes so harsh it aches.

“Didn’t sleep very well,” he says.

Phil squeezes his shoulder. “I know.”

That makes the corner of his mouth quirk up. Of course Phil knows. He was there, arms wrapped around Dan as he fidgeted, tossed, and turned. His hands had combed through Dan’s hair, and his quiet questions about if Dan was okay were mumbled against his shoulder, his reassurance felt in his touch.

Phil usually falls asleep pretty quickly, Dan’s learned. Last night, he didn’t.

The hand at his shoulder tightens. Dan finally turns to face Phil.

“Is that all that’s bothering you?”

His eyes are soft, almost sad, as his hand rubs gentle circles against Dan’s skin. He knows. He must know something’s up. Dan has to remind himself that Phil’s seen him after countless sleepless nights, curled up in soft blankets on the sofa and dozing when his mind gets too tired to keep racing.

Today isn’t like that.

Dan reaches out to rest a hand on Phil’s knee, needing to feel grounded, as the first tear rolls down his cheek. Phil draws him closer, so Dan’s head is by his shoulder, his tears dripping down onto the fabric of Phil’s shirt.

There’s no pressure, none but the weight of Phil’s hand on his shoulder, when Dan says:

“I called my mum.”

Phil goes tense. “Oh,” he say. “How did that go?”

Dan swallows. “I don’t know.”

He really doesn’t. His chest feels too full with contradictions, the weight of past accusations crashing up against her understanding tone and he doesn’t know what to think anymore. He’s never been sure how to exist around her, not since pain first settled in his bones and she told him it was growing pains, it would pass, it would get better.

And it never did.

“I haven’t talked to her since I told her I was staying in Manchester,” he says, maybe as an afterthought, maybe because it’s felt heavy on his shoulders since he answered the phone.

“Was she nicer this time?”

He nods. Another tear falls. “She’s texting me my medical history,” says Dan. “She offered, because she– she knew I had trouble writing and remembering.”

Phil hums. His breath has gone even again. His mouth is close to the top of Dan’s head. He sounds hesitant when he speaks. “It sounds like she cares.”

Dan feels that, sharp and painful in his gut. Another tear rolls down his cheek, and his breath catches, and Phil holds him tighter like he’s scared Dan will fall apart.

Maybe he will.

It’s been so long,

He’s been so that sure she doesn’t actually care.

Now, he doesn’t know what to think.

---

His mum texts him.

Dan almost cries. His teeth dig into his lip and his ribs ache and he stares, wide-eyed, at the list of diagnoses and unexplained symptoms he’s had over the years. There’s the migraines they never treated at the beginning, the lightheadedness it took them four years to explain, the instructions to do more exercise that dot the whole six years that he’s been ill.

The first time he went to therapy, and the antidepressants they put him on, and the second time he went to therapy.

And every time he told his doctor he was still sick after that.

Phil’s hand lands on his wrist, gently pushing the phone from Dan’s line of sight. His voice is barely a whisper when he says: “Are you okay?”

Dan swallows. His throat aches.

Laid out like this, it doesn’t look that bad, a distant voice in his head that’s haunted him for too long tries to remind him that maybe he’s just making it all up. Maybe it wasn’t that bad. But Dan can remember the A&E doctor who turned him away because it was growing pains. Can remember the so many times his blood pressure was low before anyone bothered to point it out.

The time his doctor looked at him and said–

“Can we do something?” says Dan. “I want to– I need a distraction.”

Phil nods. In Dan’s peripheral, his phone screen goes black. The knot in his chest loosens, just a bit.

“Wanna play video games?” says Phil.

He shakes his head. “Wanna go out. It’s been too long.”

Phil’s brows furrow, like he’s about to point out that there’s a reason it’s been so long, about to warn Dan that he doesn’t want to make himself sick before such an important day.

Except part of Dan does. He’s done it before, forced himself to be in pain because maybe that way the doctors would actually see that he wasn’t lying. Not that it’s ever worked.

“Please?” he says.

Phil squeezes his wrist. “Okay.” His thumb drifts across Dan’s, careful and comforting. “Where do you want to go?”

---

Dan squeezes into his skinny jeans, even though the fabric burns his legs. He pulls a shirt over his head for what feels like the first time in forever. Though his knees are shaky, he bends down to tie his own laces, as Phil watches from where he’s leaning against the door.

“Are you sure about this?”

He reaches out, without a word, to help Dan stand again.

“I’m sure,” says Dan. “And don’t worry, you won’t need to take me to A&E this time.”

The corner of Phil’s mouth quirks up, and Dan knows he’s forcing it. He can feel his worry in the too-tight clench of Phil’s hand around his, the way his gaze trips over Dan legs when he wobbles as he stands.

He squeezes Phil’s fingers, forcing a smile of his own, as he opens the door.

It’s warm outside. The sky’s going purple as the sun sinks below the city. Dan realizes, staring up at it, that he hasn’t left the flat since he trip to A&E, hasn’t enjoyed being outside in far too long.

If his joints would let him, he’d suggest they walk around a bit. Instead, he stares up at the clouds and reminds himself to spend more evenings, when the sun won’t burn his eyes, on their little balcony, just to feel the wind against his cheeks again.

Phil tugs on his hand when the cab pulls up in front of them. They pile in, side by side in the back seat. Dan doesn’t put on his seatbelt. He can’t be bothered to deal with the harsh rub of fabric against his ribs.

His chest is still tight, the quiet buzz of anxiety at the back of his mind growing louder. He can still feel his phone, heavy in his pocket, can still imagine the text he hasn’t yet responded to. He can remember their last movie night, laughing and gasping and falling asleep with Phil’s hands trying to massage the pain away.

They hadn’t even gone out last time.

Dan stares out the window and hopes he can keep his promise that it’ll be okay this time.

They slip out of the car at the cinema. Phil pays the driver. Dan leans against the wall as he waits, wondering if the lines inside are long. It’s been so long since he’s been to the cinema, he can hardly imagine it anymore. The screens usually hurt his eyes and the audio gives him a headache and he doesn’t care today.

“You okay?”

Phil’s smiling at him, standing by the door. He holds it open for Dan, and buys their tickets for a random comedy neither of them particularly wanted to see. He lets Dan go find a seat as he buys them popcorn, soda, and a chocolate bar to share. He hands it over, in the darkness of the theatre, with a smile.

Between them, their knees bump together as the film starts.

---

They’re holding hands when it ends.

Dan’s eyes are starting to burn and his chest aches from laughing, but the voices in his head have dulled just enough that he can breathe a little easier. He doesn’t think about the appointment he needs to show up to tomorrow, or the doctor he hasn’t met yet who might dash his hopes all over again.

He stares at their joined hands as the cinema empties, smiling.

“You ready to go home?” says Phil.

Dan shrugs. He probably should give his spine a break by sinking into the sofa again, close his eyes against the bright lights of the city before a headache wells in his temples. But he doesn’t want to sit in the dark and wait until tomorrow, letting his fears return.

“Can we get pizza?”

“You up to walk?”

He nods. Phil helps him to his feet and leads him out of the cinema. He knows Manchester better than Dan does, and tells a story about coming to watch movies with Ian when he was younger as they find the nearest pizza place. Dan listens, maybe more attentively than he needs to, to keep his mind from going hazy as the city moves around him.

There’s still a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Dan wonders if him of a few years ago would have believed that he’d end up here.

The restaurant they end up in is small and quiet, and they slide into a booth in the corner of the room. Dan sinks back against the cushion, realizing that Phil’s smiling, too.

His chest feels warm. His fingers twist in the tablecloth, because part of him misses holding Phil’s hand.

“Thanks for tonight,” says Dan. “I had fun.”

Under the table, Phil knocks their feet together.

“I did too,” he says.

[thelucidprophetus-blog]

Side Character In My Own Life

People always say that we think of ourselves as the main character of our lives' story. But I don't want to be the main character. All I want to do is be the side character in the back round that occasionally helps or gets a bit of screen time then I go back into the back round. For as long as I can remember I never really had dreams or ambitions. All I wanted was to work a normal decent paying job and get what normal people have with a wife and a family. If you want to call that a dream then go for it but to me it is the bare minimum. I know a lot of people don't have and maybe will never have that. However, I figured I would eventually find that “happiness” I know it isn't normal to feel and think how I do. I absolutely love being alone and spending time by myself if it is watching videos or playing video games I know I’m depressed and oh boy it's not fun. But when I go out with people, I’m always trying to be the “class clown” funny guy. I guess the thing people say about the most depressed people try to make others happy because they know what is like to truly be sad and depressed. I’m selfish, though, because I do some what enjoy the attention. Though when people then try to give it to me, I don't know, it just makes me feel wrong and I dislike it. Then I’ll go and distance myself, because I have abandonment issues, but we will get there. Many people have tried to be my friend and get me to go out with them, but I just refuse. when I was younger i just made excuses but now that I’m older i just tell them the truth, that I don’t want to go out, because I found that totally honesty is the best thing, at least to me. I know I take it to far though and just end up being an asshole. I don’t pretend to try and care about stuff and people when i really don’t, I just tell them that i don’t care and that I’m sorry but they should really talk to someone else. But when I see someone who is truly sad and struggling I cant help myself but try and cheer them up and help them. Usually, I end up pissing them off or scarring them with my brutal honesty and my solutions to their problems, mostly because they don’t like them. Anyways that’s just a little about my character. My actual story is kinda sad, but I don’t see it that way. My family always says I handle things well and make them laugh. I think that’s because all I know to do is joke around and try to make people smile. I have always had a pretty small tight circle. When I was little, I didn’t have a lot of friends but enough to be considered alright. I basically played any sport I was allowed to. So that made things easier to make friends. You know. Similar things to bond over and what not. But I lost many friends throughout life just like most people. Even some of my closest friends. Either from moving away or me messing things up. This is just one part of why I don’t get close, though. Another is because of my father. He passed away when I was eight on thanksgiving morning. I was staying at one of my friends houses that I would eventually loose. Due to me loosing a parent while i was at a friends house for almost a year i refused to spend the night not at home because i was scarred id loose my mother as well. I’m not gonna pretend to remember everything about that day because I don’t. But from what i do remember without peoples help hurt for awhile, hell maybe it still does but I’m just so numb i cant tell. Anyways, after loosing more friends and becoming more and more colder. Plus getting bullied, nothing to serious just normal kids stuff, added to that. Eventually, I made “the friend group” the one that you start spending everyday together along with causing trouble and of coarse getting into it. We were honestly so much alike it was basically like we were the same people. The 3 of us were together for a couple of years, and it was a swell time. I knew that some stuff we got into was just not right and we shouldn’t be doing it. I won't get to into it but fighting, drugs, and crime. I don’t know what else you expect from a teenager raised in the south suburbs of Chicago. But I expected better of myself. Even so, with being burned so many times it felt nice to have a new family that was consistent. Eventually, it expanded as most families do. As boys will, we had some fall outs over girls but in the end we got back together and fixed our issues. The core remained the same for quite awhile. But good things must come to an end. One of the main 3 of us started to break off and we just kind of let it happen. Not long after that I found a girlfriend who was my dream girl. Smart, funny, irresistibly adorable. She had dreams and ambitions. Everything I never had. Much to the dismay of my friends she started setting me straight. No more fighting was rule number one. To be honest I didn’t have that many issues with it because I never really liked it that much anyway. Plus I’m rather short so now that we have grown I know I wouldn’t be as good as I was when I was younger and more or less the same size. Next was crime, I stopped stealing and vandalizing stuff. Also didn’t have a problem with that because again I knew it was wrong but just kind of went along with it. Finally was drugs. I have basically tried everything from cigarettes to cocaine and heroin by the time I was 15. Which was when I met her. Usually, I just stayed to the calmer stuff, though, so I figured it wasn’t that big of deal but to her it was. So for the special someone I thought id never find I figure it was worth a shot to stop everything. To rewind a little bit, before her time, I started to connect really well with my grandpa on my dads side. When my dad was around, we were really close. A distanced between us grew a little after he passed. But because he and my grandmother were getting older and couldn’t do what they use to I was there to help and be there for them. We began to get really close. He had an accident one day and broke his hip, because my grandma was bed ridden and all other immediate family had moved away my mother the saint she is stepped up and offer to help them for awhile. During this time my sister and I which didn’t get along at all lived by ourselves for like 7 months. To her if I was alive and she had an idea of where I was things were ok so I basically lived in the “trap house” of my friend group. After I got my new girlfriend though I didn’t feel right being over there. Most because of the drugs and a girl that was there who was a real problem but that’s a story for another day. Now going back to the present. My girl and I were happy. I had gotten my act cleaned up, and she was the ray of hope and sunshine. After 6 months of being together, we were on the way to visit my grandparent with my mom. My girl had basically already become part of my family. I never have brought a girl around them till now and they all loved her. So we got there to visit and as I usually did I went running ahead to wake my grandpa up and make sure he was decent. When I got upstairs to his room, I found him laying on his bed dead and my grandma barely clinging to life. A week later my grandma passed away when we decided to take her off life support. In the coming weeks she was there for me the entire time even though her mother who absolutely hated me for my past refused to let her see me at times. I was a complete mess and didn’t want to step foot in my grandparents house again. So cleaning it out to be sold was real interesting. As time passed I just distanced myself from basically everyone except my girl. I don’t know, the fact that she was there when I found them and the fact that she could leave whenever she wanted but chose not to was something that stuck with me. For the first time when stuff got real hard and uncomfortable, she stayed so I formed a special bond to her. I started working a couple of months later and making decent money for a kid as a server. Saving for the future and everything. Cause to me I wasn’t just saving for me anymore I was saving for our future. Although I was still a kid and would spend a little to much once in awhile nothing to ridiculous just a big gift or dinner. I just wanted to make her happy, so she wouldn’t leave too. But because of everything that has happened in my life, including some stuff I left out of this, I become such a numb person that I never talked about my feelings or stuff that truly mattered to me, and she hated it. Its not like I was an open book before but I at least told her some stuff. Now I didn’t tell her anything. I tried to do everything normal couples would do of talking bout our days and so on but I never talked about me on the inside. The only time we would ever fight, and I mean ever, was when she would beg and plead with me to open up to her after all we had been together for 2 years. But I wouldn’t. I would give her the smallest thing just to get her off my back. I graduated and knew I had to find a job for the long term that paid really well, so I could work towards our future. Then I did, a great warehouse job moving heavy boxes all night long. I loved it, doing hard manually labor and not really having to deal with people and those I did deal with were quite pleasant. I found it, the job I wanted, being the background character and just working hard. I always knew I didn’t want to go to college. Id just find a good job and be fine for life. But for her that wasn’t good enough her dream of being a vet and going to college was what she wanted to do since she was little so of coarse I encouraged her to go somewhere nice and get a good education. Not because of me but with my support she went and got accepted to a nice vetting school. Of coarse I was proud of her but I couldn’t help but be worried about the future so I began to distance myself knowing thing may not work out and to avoid the heart ache of someone leaving again I wasn’t being the best I could be. While at work one night a very heavy box fell off the top of a semi and landed on my head. Now I played a lot of sports, including football like I said so I thought nothing of it and just went back to work even though others were completely terrified for me I thought I was fine and didn’t want to ruin our safety streak. A week later I started suffering from really bad headaches and began throwing up uncontrollably. Thinking about it I just figured I had the flu, but it wasn’t. After not being able to work without throwing up and wanting to die from my headaches we started going to doctor after doctor and getting a procedure or two done we still had no clue what was wrong with me. During this time I became the most I depressed I had ever been in life. I was bed ridden and could hardly if ever go outside without the fear of puking in public. So I isolated myself in my room. Because my mom the saint is a hoarder I never brought anyone to my house and I mean absolutely never, but being the kind girl she is my girlfriend began coming over and for the first time since before my dad died my family regularly had a guest. Of coarse it was kinda gross to her but she didn’t care she got to look after me and make me feel better. But then the time came for her to leave for college and for the first time since my grandpa passed I shed a couple tears. The things were doing alright for awhile but after finding out a couple of things about what was wrong with me things took a turn for the worse. I found out that I’m allergic to 29 out of 31 main environmentals not deathly allergic but bad enough to cause some of my problems. Which means going outside is actually bad for my health. So I stopped going outside almost all together. This took an even greater toll on my relationship even though she was 5 hours away. I became even more depressed because I could no longer go out and play basketball with an old friend of mine which was one of the things I got to do because I worked so much and could only see my girl on the weekends. I was completely alone the only person who my family accepted into our house had left and I couldn’t really go outside without becoming more sick so I was stuck in my room alone. So I spent my days playing Xbox with close friends I made thought the years. This was the only thing to make me happy and bring me up out of my down mood. Well, my girl didn’t like that I spent all my time out of bed playing video games cause she figured if I could do that then I should be able to do something more productive which she wasn’t entirely wrong but because I don’t open up I never really told her how bad my health actually was. When she was over, I always tried my best to keep in good spirits but I couldn’t hide everything. She caught me throwing up a lot it didn’t seem to bother her. So I can only assume she didn’t know how bad things really were. I was always tired and sad and throwing up. And we didn’t have all the answers yet. so as you probably guessed we ended up breaking up which destroyed me but we did have a couple talks in the psst about how i need to get my shit together but she had had enough and was ready to move on. I cant blame her it must have been really tough being with me. Hell I know it was. Her entire family hated me an wanted nothing to do with me no matter what I did. They were always on her back about me, and I don’t blame them either. I didn’t eat anything for 4 days, and I didn’t talk to anyone except the friend I played basketball with because he was the last true friend I had after cutting basically everyone out. Fast forwarding from that super depressing stuff. A coupe months later we found out what was actually wrong with me. On top of having real bad allergies, which I started getting treated for I also had brain damage from the box that fell on my head. The damage was on the frontal lobe where all of our emotions and responses are held. So they chalked how I was acting up to that. I also suffer from post concussive syndrome. Which I’m sure it didn’t help but it only made how I was already worse. Due to doctors recommendation I saw a therapist for a bit, but I know what is wrong with me and I’m extremely logical so she couldn’t help to much but she did help me get a little better physically. I know that may sound strange but she did. Because of her I moved out of my moms house even though I’m scarred that my sis and mom wouldn’t be able to take care of some stuff the mold and dust which I’m allergic to wasn’t good for my health. Thinking my ex might want to hear all the good news I decided to tell her but she couldn’t care less. The warm caring person who was there for me for so long was officially gone and never coming back. So using the inheritance, I got from my grandpa I’ve been living on my own for a year. Sometimes I still struggle with the fact that I’m entirely alone with having no one to talk to, but I still have my Xbox friends and I try going out once in awhile. Not trying to make new friends or anything but just getting out for my mental health. Now that my basketball friend has gone off to the military, I’m truly alone with no one to talk to. I know I could talk to my mother and family but like I said my sis earlier and i never got along, and for my mom. She may be a saint but this isn’t something for her to deal with. She has her own medical problems going on and for the past couple years I’ve been the rock of the family. The truthful one who would help if you asked but would hide his true thoughts about things. I don’t know why I decided to put my life story on here but if feels good to open up and let everything come pouring out. Hell I don’t know if anyone will even read this or how this site entirely works but it give me a place to put everything, and I kind of like it. Opening up and talking about myself. I don’t think I want to be the background character in my life anymore. Living for other people and not wanting to do anything with myself. I don’t know what I will do with my life or myself for that matter. I’m only 20 so I do have a ton of time ahead of me to decide. Thanks to my grandpa I learned what it was like to be a man and I also learned a lot about myself. If it wasn’t for him, I never would be able to move out and live on my own and start working on myself. I learn so much from the people in my life and tried to imitate them to be normal and live a decent life. But it if time for me to be myself, not forgetting the things I learned or picked up on from other people but building on them and adding my own on top of that. Cause no matter how hard I try I do not believe I could ever forget the people who made me who I am. All of the side character in my life helped shape me the main character.

[finding-jericho-blog]

Same Difference (Part Two)

characters: RK900(dbh) x human fem!reader, Gavin Reed

warning(s): Graphic language

word count: 2,287 words

A/N: I am SO sorry this took so long, I know this update is kind of out of nowhere! A lot of things have been happening in my life and trust me, you don’t want to know. But ANYWAY, I hope you enjoy part two! Hopefully I’ll be more active and getting back into the swing of things. Thank you guys so much for your patience. <3

Part One 

Time seemed to pass far too slowly as the hours dragged on; Hank reminded you for the third time that you didn’t have to be here, but there was no way in hell that you were leaving him to deal with this on his own. You knew Hank was more than capable of taking care of himself, but the thought of him going out on a case with no one to watch his back that he could really, truly trust? You couldn’t do that, even if being here was dredging up things you wish you could just forget. Although you dared not sneak another glance in the RK900’s direction, you were hyper aware of his cool eyes trained on you with laser focus; he was analyzing you. Studying you. Observing your every movement. After all, neither you nor Hank had said a word to him or given him any task to perform, it was the perfect opportunity to familiarize himself with you both. This was the fourteenth time you’d threaded your fingers through your hair, the eleventh time Lieutenant Anderson had heaved out a heavy sigh. It would not have taken a highly advanced prototype to see that the both of you were on edge, and while the RK900 only knew what information was necessary concerning what had occurred with his predecessor, he had already worked out that it had been a particularly traumatic experience. Neither of you could bear to look him in the eye, and the rest of the department stole sideways glances and shared hushed whispers that they didn’t think he could hear. He could. “I can’t believe the captain assigned that thing to Hank again.” “Especially after what it did to [Y/N].” The RK900’s gaze darted back towards you. What had the previous Connor model done to you that he had not done to Lieutenant Anderson? For only the briefest of moments, he considered asking, but his social relations program warned him that doing so may result in the damaging of an already tense relationship, and so he refrained. All that he had been told was that the RK800 had attempted to neutralize his human associates when he perceived that they were interfering with his mission. His commitment to completing his mission had not been faulty, he recalled Amanda explaining this to him just before his deployment. In the grand scheme of things, the lives of two humans mattered very little when compared to the importance of putting an end to the deviancy crisis. But CyberLife did not wish to risk damaging their affiliation with the Detroit Police Department; their cooperation was imperative in helping stop the deviancy crisis once and for all, and their resources were a true asset. Therefore, decommissioning the RK800 series was a necessary, yet temporary, setback. It took very little time for CyberLife to presumably fix the errors the RK800 series had exhibited, creating the RK900 series using resources that they already had as well as newly acquired technology. He was better than the RK800 series in every conceivable way, and yet.. A sudden shift in your weight drew him out of his thoughts, and he watched as you slipped off the edge of Lieutenant Anderson’s desk, raising your arms above your head to stretch out your aching muscles; his LED swirled a diligent yellow as he watched. “I’m getting a coffee,” you announced, though he knew you were addressing your uncle, and not the RK900 himself. “want one?” “Sure,” came the gruff response, though he didn’t bother to glance up from his work, perhaps not wanting to risk accidentally making eye contact with the android across from him. “I could get it for you.” Both of pairs of human eyes snapped over towards the RK900 as if surprised, though he could not imagine why; his own pale eyes shifted between the both of you as you turned to glance at one another. As if neither one of you heard his offer, Hank’s gaze darted back down to the scattered papers, and you stiffly turned on your heel, retreating to the break room without another word. The android’s eyebrows furrowed as he watched you go. Yes.. he was better than the RK800 series in every conceivable way, and yet.. it was clear to him that you could only see his predecessor when you looked at him. Although you were far from out of the RK900’s line of sight, you were relieved to be out from under his scrutinizing gaze, if only for a short while. Your hands pressed into the counter as you leaned against it, allowing your tired eyes to slip shut momentarily as the coffee brewed. The way he looked at you reminded you of Connor for what you were sure would not be the last time; he was trying to learn you, to figure you out as though you were some complicated equation that desperately needed solving. That’s all that you’d been to Connor, and once he’d figured you out, he used you to get to Hank, to ensure that his mission went smoothly. You had gotten too comfortable with who you had thought Connor was-- you could have never known that by admitting that you thought destroying the deviants was morally wrong, he would consider you a possible interference. You should have kept him at arm's length; you should have known that he wasn’t like other androids. You should have- “You alright?” Your eyes snapped open and your head shot upwards, turning to meet the pale blue eyes of a familiar detective, and not one you liked all too well. “I don’t really care, but you’re in front of the coffee machine and I’m just wondering how long your breakdown is going to last.” “Shut the fuck up, Gavin.” His lips twisted upwards into a smug, mocking smile as he took a step nearer to you, prompting you to step back in disgust, not wishing to have him anywhere near you. Nonchalantly, he stopped the coffee you had been brewing half-way, pouring it into a cheap styrofoam cup, and speaking all the while he did so. “I saw that Fowler assigned that bucket of bolts back to your uncle. It’s kind of fucked up when you think about it.” You watched in silence as he lifted the cup to his haggard face, pausing to smell the dark roast before taking a tentative sip. “I mean, we all know how you felt about the first one.” Your hands balled into fists as he seemed to appraise the coffee, before carelessly dumping it out into the nearby sink with a shrug; if looks could kill, Gavin would absolutely be six feet under. “I don’t like this kind.” “What do you want?” You muttered under your breath, your voice dangerously low. You were in no mood to deal with Gavin’s little mind games, and the way he turned to smirk at you made it clear that he hadn’t come here for coffee; he came to gloat. “What’s the matter, did I strike a nerve?” When you only clenched your jaw and glared daggers at him, he shrugged easily, holding his hands up, palms facing you. “I’m just saying it’s messed up is all. Do you think he still remembers everything? Maybe he’s just biding his time and will actually finish the job this time around.” His voice sounded mockingly optimistic as he said this. Although you shouldn’t have been shocked by this, you felt a sting of disbelief when you realized that he meant that he hoped the RK900 would actually kill you and your uncle this time. Part of you wondered if he actually meant that, or if he was just trying to get under your skin; regardless, you were seething.

As you opened your mouth, perhaps to say something you might have regretted (then again, perhaps not), a third voice interrupted you, cutting you off. “Is there a situation here?” Every muscle in your body seized, ice running through your veins at the unprecedented closeness of Connor’s replacement; you could scarcely breathe. The RK900 stood at your side and narrowed his pale eyes on Gavin, overlooking you momentarily in favor of staring the detective down. The man arched his eyebrows, wholly unconcerned by the android’s sudden appearance; in fact, he seemed to find it amusing as he looked between you and prototype. “Not at all.” he replied smoothly, his eyes drifting across across the android; sizing him up. The RK900 only watched him curiously, canting his head to one side. “And even if there was, it’d be none of your fucking business, tin man.” “I would have to disagree, Detective. Hank Anderson is my business, and by extension, so is Miss [Y/L/N]. I would be appreciative if you did not antagonize her.”

Gavin laughed; it was a bitter, hollow sound that put you on edge, and the android at your side seemed to notice your sudden apprehension. He peered over at you, momentarily forgetting Gavin; instead, he observed your uncertain visage, your barely parted lips and wide eyes. “You’d be appreciative, huh?” The detective repeated mockingly, and before you could even think to warn the android that he shouldn’t have taken his eyes off Gavin, the man’s hands shot forwards. He gathered up the fabric of the RK900’s coat into tight fists, jerking him downwards to meet his gaze; the LED on his temple circled red despite his unimpressed countenance.

“That’s enough, Gavin, let him go!” You hissed, the words shooting past your lips before you could stop them; you reached out to grab the one of the man’s sleeves in some feeble attempt to pull him off of the android. Perhaps the part of you that still cared for Connor, despite what he had done, drove you to defend his replacement. Some small, weak part that you hated, that you wished had died when Connor had. As much as you could barely stand to look at the RK900, you were still helpless against him.

It disgusted you.

“Listen here, you plastic fuck.” He spat, completely ignoring your demands to let the RK900 go. “No android is going to tell me what I can and cannot do, do you understand me? Or do I have to beat it into that thick fucking skull of yours?”

“For God’s sake Gavin, just let him go.”

The RK900 only watched Gavin with total disinterest, his eyes half-lidded in an almost condescendingly unconcerned expression. For one long, tense moment, the detective glared up at the prototype, and you thought for a moment that perhaps he was going to attack him, but without warning, Gavin’s hands were finally releasing his black and white jacket, wrenching his own sleeve out of your grasp; he chuckled breathily, as though it had all been some kind of elaborate prank, before shaking his head and taking few steps backwards. “They didn’t change a goddamn thing about you, did they? You can polish a turd, but it’s still a piece of shit.” Turning away swiftly, Gavin’s footfalls carried him just a bit outside the break room, but then he paused, glancing over his shoulder briefly. “[Y/N], I’d watch my back if I were you.” Then, he continued on until he was out of sight.

You knew it wasn’t that Gavin cared; he didn’t care about anything other than himself and his career, you really didn’t think he was capable of caring about anyone else. He just wanted you to be afraid, and despite knowing that… you were. The truth was, you were afraid of the RK900; it didn’t matter if CyberLife said they fixed the errors and fitted him with the newest technology. At the end of the day, he was still a deviant hunter, and you still thought the deviants should be left alone. He was still dangerous… maybe even more so than Connor ever had been.

“Are you alright?” Your eyes snapped upwards to the android in question; his almost silvery irises watched you cautiously, his LED having shifted back to a preoccupied gold; he was scanning you, checking your vitals you were sure. You had thought it was sweet when Connor had done it, because you thought his concern for your well-being had come from a place of genuine care. Really, though, it had been out of necessity and convenience; if you had been unwell, it would have slowed him down. Knowing Connor’s replacement was doing the same left a bad taste in your mouth, to say the least.

“Just leave me alone.” You retorted harshly, eyes narrowing in disdain. “I don’t need your help.” With that, you left the replacement and returned to your uncle empty-handed, but he didn’t seem to mind or even ask why you hadn’t gotten the coffee you had left for to begin with.

The RK900 remained where you had left him, canting his head ever so slightly to the side with a thoughtfully knitted brow. Despite your apparent abhorrence to his presence here, you had attempted to defend him from Detective Reed, and he was beginning to create theories as to why, exactly. From all the information he had gathered, it seemed to the newest prototype that you and Lieutenant Anderson had been quite fond of the RK800, but that he had betrayed that fondness by attempting to take the both of you out. You, the RK900 hypothesised, had been closest to Connor, and perhaps you had just as much as trouble separating your anger and hurt from the RK900 as you did your previous admiration. Curious, he thought, watching you plant yourself up on Lieutenant Anderson’s desk once more, threading your fingers through your hair for the fifteenth time.

Very curious.

Taglist;

@akemiikeda, @deviantramblings, @deviantsupporter, @connorshero, @shadows-echoes, @treehousemagicblog

[allison54butt-blog]

3-Step Ergonomic Makeover (That Won’t Cost You A Penny!)

Evolving Workplaces Are FUN-TASTIC Which stimulates Imagine healthy workspace emulated the design of Google where you take a slide from meeting to meeting, find fed freely available in the lush cafeteria, you can loosen up in the nap pods, and even unwind and ponder your notions at the aquarium. Maybe appeals to you the AOL setup with vibrant colors, a game room, pool tables, and open workspaces? Or perhaps the freedom of working everywhere is what motivates shoppers? You love the luxury of bouncing around from coffee shop to coffee shop, or working using a picturesque beach view. Your Posture Is Your Greatest Work Resource Whatever work style you prefer, keep in mind that you are taking your posture with you might! Whether you show up to Google, AOL, perhaps own business from neighborhood coffee shop, the impact that your posture makes on industry to produce efficient task is priceless. Taking care of your posture is a great business choice. Upright posture is directly correlated with higher varieties of alertness and productivity, assists in discouraging common work-related injuries, and improves health and longevity. Upright posture is directly correlated with higher stages of alertness and productivity, helps prevent common work-related injuries, and improves overall health longevity. Upright Posture Is Your Greatest Work Resource Why You should Be Mindful of Ergonomic Design The term ergonomics is derived from two Greek words: ergon, meaning work, and nomos, meaning natural legislation. Ergonomics is the study of peoples efficiency their particular working environment, and Ergonomists study human capabilities in relationship function demands. Put simply, Ergonomic Design promotes better health at work, improves efficiency of task completion, and supports your best posture at the office. You cant afford to disregard ergonomics. Mindless work habits often lead to ergonomic injuries that disrupt the work cycle. Workplace Risk factors for Musculoskeletal Disorders The Cdc (CDC) states, Musculoskeletal disorders are having high costs to employers such as absenteeism, lost productivity, and increased health care, disability, and workman's compensation costs. Musculoskeletal cases a lot more severe when compared with average nonfatal injury or illness. Musculoskeletal Disorders: Musculoskeletal disorders account for pretty much 70 million physician visits to the doctor in nation annually, along with estimated 130 million total health care encounters including outpatient, hospital, and e . r . visits. Back Pain: The Bureau of Labor Statistics reported 372,683 back injury cases involving days away from work. Discomfort is certainly the most common reasons for medical visits nationwide. Arthritis: The total cost for arthritis conditions is $128 billion! $81 billion in direct costs and $47 billion in indirect costs you. Persons who are limited in their work by arthritis have been proved to have Arthritis-attributable work limitations (AAWL). AAWL affects one in 20 working-age adults. Carpal Tunnel Syndrome: The Bureau of Statistics reported 26,794 cts cases involving days far from work last year, representing a median of 25 days away from work contrary to 6 days for all nonfatal injury and illness cases. The Goal Of ErgonomicsMuskuloskeletal Decline The goal of ergonomics is to scale back stress and eliminate injuries and disorders associated without the pain . overuse of muscles, bad posture, and repeated tasks. A workplace ergonomics program can seek to prevent or control injuries and illnesses by eliminating or reducing worker experience musculoskeletal risk factors. Awkward postures that add stress for the muscle and joints Repetition of uni-planar motions in the workplace Heavy material handling with improper lifting technique High force or mechanical compression from occupational tasks Prolonged experience with vibration, with regard to example the use of a jackhammer Temperature extremes that are way too hot and/or too cold Glare, inadequate lighting, and poor vision 3-Step Ergonomic Makeover You can Implement free You cant afford to ignore ergonomics with your workplace yeast infection. You understand the importance, you arent denying the power of ergonomics to prevent injury and improve productivity, however notion of buying one more thing for business stresses you out of trouble! Dont worry we precisely how you feel. Weve got your rear side. Implementing this 3-Step Ergonomic Makeover is really a great starting point start with ergonomic design, and it will not cost merely penny. 1. 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Your gaze should attend the the surface of the computer in most beneficial posture. For best cell phone posture, bring your cellular telephone up to eye level as you scroll through social media instead of looking affordable. These free tips alone are worth their weight in gold for the prevention of common musculoskeletal disorders related to forward head posture. 2. Stand, Walk, and Move Another free tip that you just cant afford NOT strive and do is to face up with a seated modern society. While occupational tasks have evolved from being strenuous activities outside to seated tasks in doors, society has become more and more (and more) sedentary. Sitting will be the new smoking, it relates to increased incidence of obesity, Type II diabetes, and cardiovascular illness. Sitting is so threatening it is shocking that many of us continue to do it day after day. 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[jawllines]

FOR THE BLURB I think vampy should be a combination of grumpy and needy. like he’s getting frustrated about not having his way but also following y/n around like a dog on a leash, crossing his arms and furrowing his eyebrows but then watching her every move and trying to touch her subtly. And he’s also angry because his pants are way too tight suddenly and he cant seem to unwind.

oKAY DuE TO VERY POPULAR DEMAND THIS IS THE VAMP!HARRY PERIOD BLURB, MEANING Y/N IS ON HER PERIOD  AND HARRY OES DOWN ON HER.  

THIS IS A V NICHE TOPIC, UNDERSTANDABLY, SO IF YOU AREN’T INTO THAT THEN THIS IN’T THE BEST ONE FOR YOU (ALTHOUGH I WILL SAY I DON’T GO INTO TOO MUCH DETAIL ABOUT HER BLEEDING DURING OR ANY OF THAT, JUST THAT HARRY’S ENJOYING HIMSELF)

READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION 

For as grumpy as Harry always is, Y/N has never seen him grumpier than now.

 It was pleasantly endearing; the furrow in his brow deep, sat on the opposite end of the couch because, “It is harder to keep my hands off of you, when you’re like this.” The pouty lug grumbled, shifting tirelessly, doing his damndest not to sniff the air so closely.

 Being alive for hundreds of years and not being able to indulge in something, is quite trying on a vampire, Y/N found. Especially when that something is attached to the person they’ve bonded with – the denial of a “treat” so to speak, was just absolutely terrible. It threw him into the lowest of pouts, grumbles, and heavy sighs, that made her giggle from the opposite end of the couch or wherever they’d be. He would try to avoid contact all that he could at this time, as to not drive himself mad, but he still wanted to be around. Wouldn’t leave to spare himself the trouble of smelling her, but would instead just attempt to keep his distance at the very least.

Because Y/N was on her period, and that was just…well, that was just something Harry hadn’t quite experienced before, in a partner. Sure, he’s smelt it on women before, but he had never particularly cared. Had never particularly cared for humans in general, really, before having his very own, to cuddle and squeeze, and smell. Never cared for their bodies or knowing the inner-workings of them. Never cared to do much research other than what points of their body was easiest to draw the most blood from when he’s feeding.

 However, his little human had very suddenly smelled different to him one day, and he had panicked as he’d been at the door – barging in, dropping all that was in his arms as he ran to her. He found her in the kitchen, sat on a chair, hunched over a notebook while something was in the oven. Immediately did he run for her, checking her all over to see the source of the blood that was on her somewhere, “Are you alright? Where are you wounded? I will fix it – tell me, so I may fix it.” He had pleaded, tilting her chin from left to right, squishing at her arms, legs, tummy, and all, his furrowed brow deepening as he was unable to find the source.

 And Y/N, as sheepish and bashful as she’s ever been, had to explain why she smelled like blood.

 That’s the first time Harry had proposed it, crouching down to his knees, big hands spread on her thighs and pushing them open for him to fit in between, “I will clean you.” He offered casually, but Y/N snapped her legs shut with her eyes going wide.

 “Aish, Harry, s’not for that!”

 He had pouted, thumbs digging into the skin, “If not for a treat, then why the bloody hell is it in such a place?”

 “Google it!” She had grumbled, giving him a playful tap to the forehead before tilting back to her work, “Take the cake from the oven, would you? I’m nearly finished with my notes.”

 Y/N hadn’t been sure if he’d actually googled it or not, but through the rest of the night he’d been a pouty, grumpy mess. It was funny to her, seeing him stalk around. He was listening, albeit he hated taking orders, Y/N was the only one he would take them from.

 Though he tried to be sneaky at first. Would be the sweetest he could be, doting over her as always but this time without a grump all day, and would be at her every beck and call. He thought that maybe if he was really good and nice he’d allow her to lick into her just this once, because he wanted it bad…so badly, he could truly cry…but each time his smart little human caught onto his deceitful thinking, swat at his bum, and tell him that he wasn’t getting to.

 So, he keeps his hands to himself.

 However, something was just irking his nerves today. Whether it be Y/N was in a pair of shorts that made Harry dizzy, or the fact she’d forgone a bra for the time being, and he couldn’t help but stare at her breasts without nearly drooling. Or maybe even how she just keeps…just keeps bending over in front of him…even unintentionally…it’s driving him fucking mad. Up the fucking wall mad, and there was nothing he could do about it, besides deal with how tight his trousers have been all day and hope that his stiffy might ease up even a little bit. He wanted so badly to split her thighs open and take his treat, but she was not one to budge on the matter. No matter how many times Harry brings up a scene he’d watched once on Hemlock Grove, with a man she was always keen towards licking into a girl in the bathroom while she was on hers.

 This lead them tonight, with Harry in a huff on the other end of the couch and Y/N amused on her side. Yet she couldn’t fully enjoy it, as for the cramps riddling her abdomen. They were bad the first few days always, and she could feel the sharp, pinching, pulsating pain that has her crouched into herself. And she attempts to make him unaware that she’s in any pain at all, as he becomes just the most obnoxiously cute, doting boyfriend who frets over her when all she wants is a cuddle.

 Though, she ought to have known Harry would be able to sense it, because as she’s tilted in a position comfortable for her, faced away from him, she feels a shuffling to her right. Then a warm body slipping up against her own, his arms sliding in between hers, palm sitting comfortingly at her lower belly and his nose dipping into her neck. “Harry –” she starts, trying to face him, but he shakes his head and holds tight.

“My little human is in pain,” he murmurs, “I will help.”

With a heavy sigh, Y/N leans back and lets him cradle her to his body, eyes lulling shut when he begins to purr lowly. Though it’s the most inhuman of the things he does, it is one of her favorites – the comforting rumble easing through her muscles, loosening where she feels tight. And while it works on her sore shoulders, it is doing very little to soothe the throb in her lower belly. One so intense that she’s curling into herself once again, taking Harry’s body with her.

 Harry lifts his head from where he’d stuffed it into her throat, but he doesn’t part from her; keeping his forehead resting on the side of her head so his mouth was right at her ear. “Sweetheart,” his lips skim against her cartilage, “Let me help further.”

 “How?” Y/N winces, pressing his palms closer to where she hurts. They weren’t sating the pain entirely, but it was just enough to keep it partially bearable, “I already took medicine and drank the tea you made.”

 That’s another thing, about her precious, grumpy boyfriend. No matter how he would avoid contact he still made sure she was alright – gave her chamomile tea to help her rest, slaved over a stove to cook her dinner, and ushered two paracetamols into her mouth to ease her pain. Hell, even with his own self-proclaimed “no touching” rule, she knows that as soon as he believes she’s asleep, he will snuggle his way beneath her covers and cuddle her to his chest. It’s things like that that make her want to know more of his vampiric nature; where he came from to how others of his kind (besides Louis, who’d she met in passing) acted. In stories and movies, they were never of the same stature – not even the sparkled dream boy Edward from Twilight, could touch on the tender care unyieldingly placed on her by Harry.

 “I’ve read online,” (he did google it) he begins, still speaking into her ear, “That orgasms help to ease the tension.” Y/N shudders at his voice, acutely aware of one of his hands slipping from where it held her lower belly, to skimming down the skin of her leg, tucking into the inside of her thigh and digging his fingertips in, “Let me quell the ache, Little human. You will feel much better once I’ve finished.” He hums, nipping at her lobe with careful intent.

 Whining, Y/N leans her head back against the round of his shoulder, “It’s not like –” she rumples her lips, squinting her eyes closed, “—I don’t think you’d like it Harry.” She all but whines, and Harry hums low, about to refute her, she knows, but she continues, “S’like…think you jus’ like the thought and –”

 “Moppet, I enjoy everything about you in more ways than you will ever be able to comprehend or imagine,” he cuts her off, squeezing her thigh tightly, “I will not continue if you do not wish me to, but do not worry about me. I’m aware of what I’m getting into and it’s mouthwatering to me, n’ my kind, I have found.” His other hand slips from her belly, skating up to cup at the swell of her breast with the apex of his thumb and forefinger, “Also need I remind you of that scene – with the one man you are all too fond over – in which he –”

“Oh goodness Harry, don’t start with that,” she complains but still giggles at the tone his voice had shifted to upon talking about a petty TV crush that makes him grouse and grumble on any other day (“he’s not even…he’s not even that cool, or whatever, why d’ya like him so much? I’m right here n’ much better), “I mean…I don’t mind if you do, I just worry that you won’t enjoy it.”

 This was the green light that Harry had been waiting for, as he maneuvers himself so that he can tuck his head underneath her arm, shifting down to his knees but still leaning in so that his face was level with her chest. In a diligent manner, he peels her shirt up to expose her breasts to him, his eyes lighting up with glee when he is met with them bare. “I can assure you, little human,” he murmurs, “I will enjoy this far too much.”

 He cups them in his hands and Y/N winces just a bit; they’re always quite sore the first few days as well, which was bothersome. It’s part of the reason she wasn’t wearing a bra today, because the fabric was irritating them. Noticing her discomfort, his hold on them relaxes, as he leans forward and takes a tender nipple into his mouth. She gasps when he begins to suck softly, the gentle tugging making her body jolt. A smile begins worming onto his lips as he pops off to go to the other, while keeping the previous nipple he’d had in his mouth occupied with two fingers pinching and pulling at the sensitive bud.

Y/N’s toes curl, because she’s sore and sensitive but it feels good – really good – and it makes her tremble; thighs quivering as he presses himself in between them so he can access her tits with better ease. He parts with a kiss to the very tip of the bud, before moving just above her areola and sucking a greedy mark into the skin. A pitiful whimper gusts from Y/N’s mouth when she feels the small prick of his pointed teeth, having elongated from the excitement.

 He begins to make his descent, but Y/N stops him as his fingers curl into the waistband of her shorts, “Not here,” she tells him, feeling her cheeks heat up intensely as she finishes, “I – um – I don’t want to make a mess.”

 Sucking his bottom lip into his mouth, he nibbles at it carefully as he thinks of his next move. When he snaps his fingers, pats her thigh, and says, “One moment, Sweetheart.” Y/N hadn’t imagined that in the next few moments she’d be sat with her shorts and panties off, atop of an appropriately placed red towel on her bed.

Alas, there she was, a ball of nerves and arousal and cramps – all in a muddled battle trying to decipher who would be at the forefront of her mind. Though, like all things, Harry notices immediately when she’s feeling something, and he strokes over her thighs with his knuckles, “Don’t worry, little human, I’ll take care of you,” he promises, “If you wish to stop at any time, you tell me, and I will part from you immediately.”

She nods, chewing at the inside of her cheek and letting her legs part further for him. Harry smiles, and crawls down the bed all while facing her, pretty green eyes shining even in the dark of the room. He delves in with no further preamble, like he’s just ecstatic to be doing it and excited to show Y/N how nice it will still feel.

 And, if she’s honest with herself it does feel remarkable – maybe it’s because she’s aware of how into it he is. How his tongue hasn’t stopped running broad stripes up and down her entirety, moans vibrating through her core while his fingers dig dents into her thighs. The intense feeling of his wet mouth against her tripling as everything is much more sensitive, and swollen, so that she can’t help but mewl and shudder.

 Harry leaves no room for a paper to get in between them, mouthing at her with such fervor that she knows she won’t last very long. Especially when everything begins feeling so…so good, and she forgets why she’d been nervous in the first place, and when Harry slips his hand into hers so she’s squeezing that instead of the sheets. The fire in her lower belly has tightened and twisted it’s flames into her veins, roaming through her body, making her sweat. Toes curling in the blankets and in the air, because Harry hikes up her leg to get even closer, letting it rest on his shoulder.

 He takes her clit into his mouth, pinching it with his lip and Y/N cries out louder than she had intended too. It makes him chuckle, flickering his tongue over it a few times before rumbling low against her, “S’ so swollen pet,” he looks up to her, carnal desire nearly feral in the way it’s raptured through his being – he’s enjoying himself…finally getting the treat he’d been requesting, and waited so patiently for, “You taste so sweet,” he utters, leaning back in, “All of you is so sweet. My favorite treat, you are.”

 When Y/N cums, it crawls up her body slowly, before crashing over her like a flood that had billowed past its point. It’s when he began purring against her body, that it claws through her and she moans, back beginning to arch but Harry holds her hips down and continues to lick her through it greedily. Humming content little notes against her wet heat, as she comes down, twitchy and sensitive, shoving his head away, “Okayokayokay,” she rushes, blinking her eyes open though she hadn’t realized she’d shut them, to see Harry smiling wide, “Gimme – gimme a minute, shit,” she laughs breathlessly as Harry begins to lift himself to his knees.

 Harry would’ve stayed down there for hours, she knows, if she would allow it. He’d thoroughly relished in it, so much so that she doesn’t think he noticed how hard he was in his pants until he followed her gaze. She couldn’t help but stare though – he’d filled out, pressing against the zip of his jeans, so full he’d threatened to break it she thinks.

 They both look down at his cock for a while, before Harry looks up to her, “Do you feel better?” He asks her, and she nods quickly, eyes wide, “Good.” He reaches for the button of his jeans, “But I think we should probably ensure that they stay gone for a while, yeah?”

 Y/N can’t help the smile that quirks at her mouth.

Sneaky bastard.

[pink1031]

You’ve Woken Up the Demon In Me-Part 3

Characters: Demon!Dean x Reader, Crowley, Castiel, Cole

Warnings: Violence, non-con, dub-con, language, rough sex, oral (male and female receiving),angst, smut, choking, general abuse, fluff (just a little)  

A/n: This is not for the faint of heart.  It is very dark (like my soul). Demon Dean is by no means fluffy at all.  This follows Season 10, episodes 1, 2, 3 with a reader insert. I did not follow everything exactly, but much of the dialogue is there and the same premise. Sorry if this is pure trash. Gifs not mine. (Sorry about all the Gifs in this one but there are just so many out there from this episode that are so good!). 

Word Count: 6004

Part 1, Part 2

@build-a-pyre

@wildefire

Sam had managed to wrangle Dean into the dungeon of the bunker and secure him to a chair inside the devil’s trap. Dean had cussed and ranted the entire time but the cuffs did their job and made him virtually helpless.  You had locked yourself into your bedroom while Sam left to gather the blessed blood that he would need to cure Dean.  Your nerves were on edge the whole time Sam was gone, so much so that when you heard a knock on your bedroom door it actually made you jump and squeak in fear before grabbing your gun from your nightstand and point it at the door. “Y/n it’s me.” Sam called to you through the door. You took a deep breath and laid the gun back down before making your way to the door and unlocking it.  You smiled softly as you craned your neck to look up at Sam as you opened the door. Sam returned your soft smile with a small one of his own. “Just wanted to let you know I was back and I am heading down to get started.”  Sam held up the small cooler in his left hand. You nodded your response but weren’t sure exactly what to say.  You knew this was going to be rough, rougher than anything Sam had had to do before. “Do you want to…” Sam trailed off before clearing his throat. “I mean you don’t have to and I understand if you don’t want to see him.” “I’ll come with you, Sammy.” You nodded in understanding, knowing Sam didn’t want to face his demon brother alone.   He smiled a tight lip smile at you as you moved out of the room.  You both made your way down to the dungeon where Dean was waiting. Sam opened the dungeon door and made his way inside.  You held back, trying to calm your nerves and give yourself a pep talk before heading into the room.  “You can do this.” You told yourself. “You can do this for Sam and for Dean.” You made your way around the corner.  Dean sat strapped into the chair in the center of the devil’s trap.  Sam was standing at the small metal table opening the cooler that contained the blessed bags of blood. “Really?” You heard Dean scoff as he stared at Sam’s back. “For whatever it’s worth I got your blood type.” Sam spoke as he began to prepare the needles.   You walked silently and slowly into the room.  Keeping your distance and honestly hoping Dean didn’t notice you.   “Sam, I know you think you are gonna try and fix me, but…did it ever occur to you that maybe I don’t want to be fixed? Just let me and Y/n go live our lives.  I won’t bother you. What do you care?” Dean spoke as Sam turned and made his way to the edge of the devil’s trap. “What do I care?” Sam asked staring at his brother in disbelief before sprinkling holy water onto the circle while he chanted in Latin. “Wait, it’s not me you care about is it Sammy?  You are worried about me taking Y/n away again aren’t you?” Dean glared at Sam. Sam shot a look back at Dean as he finished the chant. “Yeah, that’s it.  You think I am gonna sit here like Crowley? Getting all weepy while you shoot me up? Well, screw that. I don’t want this.” Dean yelled.   “Yeah, I pretty much figured that out.” Sam shook his head and turned to go back to the table. You inched a little further into the room as Sam moved. “You don’t even know if this is gonna work do you? You know, I got a hell of a lot more running through me than just demon juice.” Dean continued to try to reason with Sam. Sam’s eyes met yours as he held up the syringe. You watched him as he took a deep breath and turned to face his brother once more. “Mark of Cain, got it.” “That’s right.” “Buckle up.” Sam canted his head as he looked at his brother and then moved forward.   “Sammy,” Dean growled a warning. “ You know I hate shots.” “I hate demons.” Sam said sternly before entering the circle. Dean’s eyes immediately turned black and he tried to lunge at Sam.  Sam was quick to hit Dean with holy water causing him to cry out in pain and his skin to sizzle.  Before you could blink Sam had drove the needle into Dean’s skin and emptied the contents.  Dean’s eyes went wide as the blood began to course through him.  His head snapped up as a roar filled his throat.  It was like a sound you had never heard before as Dean snarled and growled.  You stumbled back in fear as you watched, a cry of surprise and fear leaving your throat.

   Dean’s black gaze snapped to you as the little scream left your lips. He was panting, his fists clenching and unclenching in his restraints. “Look, we got a whole more of these to go. You could make it a lot easier on yourself.” Sam looked down at Dean as he groaned in pain.   “What’s the matter, brat,” Dean brought his gaze back to you as you stood lingering against the doorframe, “don’t want to come give your man a hello kiss?” he tried to chuckle but groaned as Sam shoved another needle into his arm. “Leave her alone.” Sam barked as he yanked the needle back out. “For all you know you could be killing me.” Dean rolled his eyes to look up at Sam. “Or…you’re just messing with me. Either way the lore doesn’t say anything about exceptions to the cure.” Sam made his way back to the table and dropped down the empty syringe. “The lore, hunters, Men of Letters, what a load of crap it all is.” Dean scoffed. “Oh, you got nothing?” Sam sighed exasperated as he turned to face Dean, leaning back against the table. “You want me to debate you?” Sam raised an eyebrow. “This isn’t even the real you I am talking to.” You looked at Sam, he looked so tired and almost defeated. This was really taking it’s toll on him.  You made yourself cross the room the few feet until you were standing on the opposite side of the table from Sam, trying to offer him what little support you could without getting any closer to Dean. Dean watched you, letting you know he was still very aware of your presence. “Oh, it’s the real me alright. Isn’t that right sweetheart?” Dean smirked at you. 

Sam glanced back over his shoulder at you as he followed Dean’s gaze. You stood silently, chewing at your full bottom lip as Dean continued his bullshit speech. “The new real me, the me that sees things for what they really are. Winchesters. Do-gooders. Fighting the natural order. Let me tell you something, guys like me, we are the natural order. It’s the way it was set up.” Seeing you standing behind him in support gave Sam the encouragement he needed to continue. “Guys like me still got to do what we can.” “Don’t be so full of yourself Sammy. ‘Cause, see, from where I’m sitting, there ain’t much difference from what I turned into to what you already are.” Dean cocked his head and grinned. “And what exactly is that supposed to mean?” Sam asked, a confused look furrowing his brows. “I know what you did when you went looking for me. I know how far you went. Crowley told me all about it. So let me ask you…” Dean smirked. “Which one of us is really the monster? Hmm? Starting to come back to you now?” Sam took a deep shaky breath and turned his back to Dean. His eyes closed and he leaned heavily on the table.  You looked at Sam, a frown creasing your features. “Sam?” You asked softly wondering what Dean was talking about. Sam just shook his head but wouldn’t look at you. “Oh, wait, Sammy didn’t tell you did he baby?” Dean laughed. “He was trying to get a twenty on Crowley, me, and you from any demon he could snag. But Crowley didn’t want to be found, and no one showed when he summoned.“ Dean’s gaze moved from you back to his brother. “But you found a way, didn’t you, Sam?” “You would have liked to have gotten there before the deal went down, but you didn’t really care about poor ol’ Lester, did you?” Dean continued to taunt his brother. “Oh, and so you know, I killed Lester myself. And that wife of his married the tattooed guy.” You still didn’t know what Dean was talking about but you knew Sam and you knew that whatever he did was because he had to do it. He had to do it to find you and Dean and save you both. You moved around the table so you could stand at Sam’s side. Your small hand reached out to gently grip Sam’s arm. “Sammy?” Your voice was soft and soothing. Sam turned his head and looked down at you. His hazel eyes were so sad, like they carried the weight of the world. “ I never meant,” His words were cut off by a now angry Dean. “Who cares what you meant?! That line that we thought was so clear between us and the things that we hunted, ain’t so clear is it? Wow. You might actually be worse than me! I mean, you took a guy at his lowest, used him, and it cost him his life and his soul. Nice work.” Dean huffed angrily. “Yeah well,” Sam’s gaze turned angry as he looked down at you, he grabbed another needle and turned towards Dean, stomping over to his side. “At least I didn’t kidnap and rape my best friend.” 

Sam shoved the needle hard into Dean’s neck before walking back to the table as Dean screamed in pain.  Sam threw the syringe down on the table.  Sam’s face was covered with a mix of emotions: anger, sadness, regret.   Dean’s chest rose and fell with his heavy breathing. His head drooped forward. “Let me ask you this, Sammy: If this doesn’t work, we both know what you got to do to me, right? You got the stomach for that, Sam?” Sam couldn’t answer that question.  Instead he pushed himself from the table and made his way out the door.   You watched Dean as you waited for Sam to return.  Dean did not look good.  He truly looked like he was in pain.  Soft groans fell from his lips as he sat with his eyes closed and his head slumped forward.  What if this really was killing him? You brain and emotions were still a giant jumble of confusion.  You hated the demon that Dean had become, but the man in front of you was still Dean.  Every ounce of your being still wanted to save that man.  You still wanted your Dean back.  You suddenly realized that Dean was too quiet. No more groaning or growling. His breathing was more shallow. “Sammy!” You yelled as you rushed over to Dean.  You shook Dean’s shoulders but got no response. “Dean!” You yelled at him and did the only thing you could think and slapped Dean across his scruffy cheek. “Hey! Hey! Dean! Come on, come back!” Dean’s voice came out a hoarse whisper. “No.” “Come back to me. You there? Hey! Dean, you okay?” You asked as your hands cupped his cheeks and lifted his head so you could look at him. Dean’s head lolled in your hands. “Yeah brat, if you consider drowning in your own sweat while your blood boils okay.” Dean coughed softly and you gently stroked his cheek.  You heard Sam rushing back into the room so you stood and moved back away from Dean. You looked at Sam with worried pleading eyes. “Look I can’t just stop doing this.” Sam said to both you and Dean. “Sure you can. You just stop! There’s no point in trying to bring your brother back now.” Dean glared up at his brother. “Oh, I will bring him back.” Sam seemed more determined now. “In fact, your uh… guilt-ridden, weight-of-the-world bro has been M.I.A. for quite some time now. But I’m loving the new model: Lean, mean, Dean” Dean chuckled. “Right.” Sam scoffed. “You like the new me too, don’t ya sweetheart?” Dean licked his full lips as he looked you up and down.  “In fact you love the new me, the way I make you scream so loud when you cum on my cock.” “Stop it Dean.” Sam barked at his brother. “You notice I tried to get as far away from you as possible Sammy? Away from your whining, your complaining. I chose the King of Hell over you! Maybe I was just … tired of babysitting you. Or always having to yank your lame ass out of the fire since …” Dean laughed. “Forever. Or maybe … Maybe it was the fact that you wanted my girl, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to let that happen.  Or it could be that my mother would still be alive if it wasn’t for you. That your very existence sucked the life out of my life!” Your eyes grew wide as you listened to Dean rant.  You couldn’t believe the words spilling from his mouth.  You looked between the brothers.  Sam’s jaw was clenched and his nostrils flared as the anger flooded through him. “This isn’t my brother talking.” Sam took a deep breath as he tried to calm himself. “You never had a brother! Just an excuse for not manning up. But guess what: I quit.” “No. No, you don’t. You don’t get to quit. We don’t get to quit in this family! This family is all we have ever had!” Sam yelled back at Dean, his anger finally getting the best of him. “Well, then, we got nothin’.” Dean snarled. “Would you say that to Dad?” Sam asked, continue to hold on to hope that Dean was still in there somewhere. “Dad? Oh, there’s a prize. There’s a man who brainwashed us into wasting our lives fighting his losing battle!” Dean replied knowing that was the way Sam had always felt about their father. Sam shook his head and turned his back to Dean, moving back over to the table to load up another syringe with sanctified blood.   “Oh, ooh is this you manning up?” Dean poked at his brother. “This is me yanking your lame ass out of the fire.” Sam spoke as he jammed the needle into Dean’s arm once again. “You’re welcome.” Dean immediately began gasping and groaning in pain as Sam turned away again throwing the syringe onto the table before his long stride carried him out of the room.  You stared for a moment at Sam’s back and then looked back at Dean. “Sammy wait.” You called out as you turn and jog out of the room to catch up with the younger Winchester. You moved down the hallway in search of Sam and found him standing in Dean’s room. “Sam?” you asked softly.

Sam turned at the sound of your voice. His normally bright eyes were red and tear filled and it broke your heart.  You quickly moved to him throwing your arms around him and hugging him tight.  Sam’s good arm wrapped around you as he tucked his head to the curve of your neck and you could feel him sob softly.   “It’s going to be okay Sammy.”  You gently stroked your fingers through his hair. “We are going to get Dean back.  It’s going to work.” You tried to soothe him.  Sam let you hold him for a minute longer before he stood to his full height and wiped the remaining tears from his cheeks. “Yeah, it’s gotta work.” He nodded, saying it more to himself than to you.  He smiled down at you and gently cupped your cheek in his large hand.  “I should be the one taking care of you Y/n, not the other way around.” “We are taking care of each other Sammy.” You smiled and nuzzled against his palm. “Yeah but after everything you went through.” a deep frown formed on Sam’s face. “After what Dean did to you.” “Hey,” you cut him off. “That was not Dean. That was and is a monster pretending to be Dean.” You felt your eyes sting with unshed tears. “Dean could never do…he would have never…”  You couldn’t finish. “I know.” Sam leaned down and placed a soft kiss against your forehead.  “I called Cas. I am hoping he gets here soon. I don’t know if I can do this anymore.” You nodded softly wiping your eyes before reaching your hand out and lacing your fingers with Sams’ “We can do this, together Sammy.” Sam gave you a soft smile and you walked out of the room hand in hand together. You both rounded the corner to head into the dungeon when you were stopped in your tracks. Dean���s chair was empty.  He was gone. Your eyes went wide and instantly your heart began to race as the fear coursed through you. “Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.” You cursed under your breath as you looked up at Sam. Sam’s eyes were just as wide as he looked down at you. “Go back to your room. Lock yourself in. Don’t unlock the door until I tell you.” Sam spoke quickly and softly. “Sammy, I..I..shit…” You began to panic. Your brain wasn’t fully comprehending Sam’s instructions as the fear coursed through you. “Y/n, go, now!” Sam shook your shoulder for emphasis. You nodded and turned back from the way you had come struggling to make your feet move faster down the hallway as you looked back over your shoulder to make sure Sam was still behind you. Sam made his way silently through the bunker. He tried to listen carefully for movement to pinpoint Dean’s location.  He eased himself down the hall with his back against the wall.  He heard doors opening and the sound of Dean’s boots but it was further away. Sam quickly slipped over to the desk drawer, opening it as quietly as he could and retrieved the set of master keys to the bunker.   You were crouched down in the corner of your room. You had locked the door like Sam told you but it didn‘t make you feel any safer. Your gun was in your trembling hand and your eyes trained on the door.  Your heart raced and you could hear it thudding in your ears. “Come on. Don’t you guys want to hang out? Spend a little quality time?” Dean’s voice echoed in the halls.

Sam made his way to the control room and as quietly as he could he unlocked the door. He ran across the room and quickly pulled the lever to lockdown the bunker.  The lights went out just as the lever was pulled and now the bunker was illuminated in the red glow of the alarm lights. “Smart, Sam! Locking the place down. Doors won’t open. I get it. But here’s the thing: I don’t want to leave! Not ‘til I find Y/n and take care of you!” Dean called as he walked calmly down the hallway with a newfound hammer in hand. Dean stopped walking as he found himself outside of your bedroom.  He stood looking at the door for only a moment before kicking it in with one muscled leg. You squealed and jumped as the door crashed open. You stood to your full height holding your gun out in front of you pointed at Dean’s chest. “There you are, brat.” Dean grinned. He canted his head to the side as he looked at the gun you were holding. “You really think that is going to do any good sweetheart?” He chuckled softly. “Pretty sure you’d need the demon blade for me.” Dean’s eyes flashed black as he quickly rushed you. You didn’t even have time to fire before he had knocked the gun from your hand and wrenched your arm behind your back making you cry out. “Come on brat. Let’s go find Sammy huh? Then we can get out of here.” You winced as Dean forced you out of the room.  He stopped to listen and as he heard a clatter in the distance then he steered you down the hall towards the noise.   “Sammy! You’re just making this worse for yourself, man!“ Dean called out to his brother, “Oh, by the way, you can, uh… blame yourself for me getting loose. All that blood you pumped into me to make me human… Well. The less demon I was, the less the cuffs worked. And that Devil’s Trap? Well, I just walked right across it. It smarted, but still.” Dean forced you to continue walking as he continued to try to taunt Sam out of hiding. “I found Y/n Sammy, why don’t you come get her if you think you are man enough.” Sam’s eyes closed and he cursed under his breath at Dean’s words. “Shit.” he mumbled as he leaned back against the wall.  “Dean just let her go.  We can work this out man.” Sam yelled out to his brother. Dean stopped at the sound of Sam’s voice trying to discern what direction it came from.  “I’m going to need you to scream for me now, brat.” Dean whispered low in your ear. “What?” Your brows furrowed. “Need to flush Sammy out. Scream.” Dean grinned down at you. “No.” Your words turned into a cry of pain as Dean wrenched your arm back harder behind your back. You were almost sure he had dislocated your shoulder. The tears streamed down your cheeks as the pain rushed through you. Dean’s head snapped up as he heard Sam roar in frustration at the sound of your scream.  “Good girl.” Dean whispered against your ear before placing a kiss to your temple. Dean shoved you forward in the direction you both now knew Sam to be in.  He kept a brutal grip on your arm as he shoved you along.  You soon found yourself outside of the control room.  The door was standing ajar and Dean smirked as he looked down at you.  With his hold on you he quickly spun you around and shoved you back against the wall pressing his own body tight against yours. “I need you to be a good girl and wait right here for me.” Dean looked down at you, licking his full lips that merely inches from yours. “If you run off and I have to find you again you are not going to like what happens next.” he growled softly before crushing his lips against yours in a brutally hard kiss. 

Dean let go of his grip on you and slipped inside the control room.  Within seconds the lights in the bunker came back to life. “Yeah, that’s more like it.” Dean smiled to himself as he made his way back to the door only for it to slam in his face and lock from the outside. Sam was by your side again as he locked the door trapping Dean inside.  Sam quickly took a moment to pull you in against his side in a gentle hug before looking back at the door. “That’s your big move?” Dean scoffed as he tried to doorknob. Sam yelled through the door at Dean. “Listen to me, Dean! We were getting close, okay? I know you’re still in there somewhere. Just let me finish the treatments.” When there was no answer Sam took a step closer, pressing his ear against the door. “Dean?” Sam suddenly jumped back as a loud thud mixed with the splintering of wood resounded in the quite corridor. “You act like I want to be cured!” Dean yelled from the other side of the door as he continued to drive the hammer into the wood causing pieces to splinter and fly off. “Personally, I like the disease.” Dean grinned through the small hole that was now in the door. “Dean, stop that! Look, I don’t want to use this blade on you!” Sam yelled as he held the demon blade out in front of him.  You had moved from the wall and stood half behind Sam now. “That sucks for you, doesn’t it? ‘Cause you really mean that!” Dean continued as more and more wood broke away from the door.   “Look, if you come out of that room, I won’t have a choice!” Sam continued to argue with his brother. You stepped closer to Sam placing a trembling hand on his right arm as you both tried to stand your ground against the demon. “Sure you will! And I know which one you’ll make. Isn’t that right, Sammy? But see … Here’s the thing: I’m lucky.” The hole had gotten much bigger now as Dean continued to hammer away at it.  “Oh, hell, I’m blessed! ‘Cause there’s just enough demon left in me that killing you? Ain’t no choice at all.” Dean’s cold eyes turned to you and you immediately let your hand fall away from Sam’s body. “Remember what I told you, brat.” Dean scowled. “You’re mine.” With those words Dean managed to bust through the door. Sam grabbed you quickly and spun you both around.  You sprinted down the hallway with Sam at your side as you heard the rest of the wood shatter and then Dean’s heavy boot falls on the tile floor. “Sammy? Y/n?” Dean called out as you and Sam moved down yet another hallway and hid around a corner. Both of you breathing heavily.  “Come on! Let’s have a beer, talk about it. I’m tired of playing. Let’s finish this game!” Sam glanced down at you before slowly and hesitantly peering out around the corner to look down the adjacent hallway.  His attention was pulled back as he heard a yelp fall from your lips. He turned back around and ducked just in time as Dean’s hammer went flying at his head getting stuck in the wall. Dean had his free hand around your throat as held you against the wall. You were frozen in fear as Dean choked you even while staring at his brother.  Your soft gasps for air and Sam’s heavy breathing the only sounds as Sam quickly had the demon blade against his brother’s throat. “Well … Look at you.” Dean smirked and tilted his chin pressing his throat tighter against the cold blade. “You want to save her? Do it. It’s all you.”

Your eyes were fluttering closed, the blackness drowning you as you struggled to breathe.  You heard the sound of metal clattering to the floor and then Dean growling and roaring. His hand fell from your throat and your body crumpled to the floor.  As you lay there you thought you could hear Castiel’s voice but it sounded faint and far away. “It’s over.” Castiel growled as his arms wrapped tight around Dean’s. “Dean, it’s over.” Dean continued to struggle against the angel but Cas held him tight. “It’s over.” Sam was kneeling by your side. His large warm hand gently stroking your pale cheek. “Y/n, sweetheart. Can you hear me?”  Sam pushed the stray strands of hair away from your face as your eyes slowly opened. “There you are.” He held your cheek softly in his palm. You groaned and tried to sit up but your head pounded and the world seem to spin. “No, no.  Don’t get up.” Sam cooed softly. “Cas will be back in a minute to heal you. Just wait.” Sam smiled softly down at you.   Just as Sam had said Castiel was at your side a moment later. “Let me heal you Y/n.” His deep gravelly voice music to your ears as he placed his fingers on your forehead. “No Cas, wait. Your grace.” You choked out your voice hoarse and raspy. “Don’t waste it on me.” “I’m okay now Y/n. I can heal you.” Cas stated and before you could protest you felt the warmth of his healing powers move over your body.  You closed your eyes and sighed. “Thank you Cas.” you smiled up at him as your body felt renewed. You hugged the angel tight as he helped you up to your feet. ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ The three of you stood in the dungeon looking at Dean’s limp body strapped down the chair once more. “What the hell are we doing to him, Cas? I mean, even after I gave him all that blood, he still said he didn’t want to be cured, that he didn’t want to be human, and this obsession with Y/n.” Sam glanced down at you as he said your name and looked back at Castiel. “Well… I see his point. You know, only humans can feel real joy, but … also such profound pain. This is easier.” Castiel looked from Dean then to you. “He has always had feelings for you but he never allowed himself to act on them. So, as a demon he allowed himself to have what he wanted most.” You bit your bottom lip as you took in Cas’s words.  You had never known Dean felt anything for you. He had always treated you like his little sister and nothing more. You opened your mouth to speak but movement from Dean caught your attention. Dean raised his head, his eyes were solid pulls of black and you felt your heart sink but suddenly the black slowly faded to reveal tired moss green eyes. Dean groaned softly and let out a shakey breath. His eyes moving over the three of you. “You look worried, fellas.” he said with a raspy voice. Sam took a hesitant step forward and reached out his good arm splashing Dean across the face with holy water. Dean flinched and blinked but nothing happened. No pain, no sizzle, no smoke.   You and Sam both released a breath that you had been holding and Sam smiled brightly. “Welcome back, Dean.” Dean nodded softly but then his eyes met yours and his heart broke as me memories came flooding back to him. “Y/n.” He whispered softly. You couldn’t look at the pain in his eyes.  You didn’t know how either of you were going to get past what had happened. Tears flooded your eyes and you stared at the man in front of you, your Dean.  Your lips parted but you couldn’t find any words. You choked back a sob and quickly turned, running from the room. You found yourself a little while later sitting in the library with Castiel at your side. Cas was flipping through the “Practiners Guide to Exorcism” book as Sam walked into the room. “Hey.” Sam greeted you both as you looked up at him. “How’s he doing?” Cas asked as he sat the book back down on the table. “He’s uh … He’s still a little out of it, but better, I think. I mean, I think this whole thing, the blood cure, and the … “ Sam stole a glance at you. “all of it…really wrecked him, you know?” “Yeah.” Cas replied and gave you a soft sad smile.  You couldn’t take the look of pity on both of your friends’ faces so you stared down at your hands. “On the plus side, he’s hungry again, so I’m just going to go pick him up a big ol’ bag of crap food and stuff it in his face myself. You mind keeping an eye?” Sam looked at Cas with a questioning look. “Yeah.” Cas nodded as Sam turned to walk away. “Sam?” Cas called after him. “Yeah?” Sam turned back to look at the angel. “You realize one problem is solved, but one still remains. Dean is no longer a demon, that’s true. But the Mark of Cain… that, he still has. And sooner or later, that’s going to be an issue.” Sam sighed. “You know what, Cas? I’m beat, man. One battle at a time, you know? So I’m just gonna go grab my brother some cholesterol. And then, I’m gonna get drunk.” he nodded before turning and sprinting up the steps to the bunker door. Castiel turned his attention to you after Sam had left the room. “Are you alright Y/n?” “I honestly don’t know.” You smiled a tight lipped smile. “I’m not sure how to deal with all this.”   “You know that was not Dean who hurt you?” Cas looked at you with concerned eyes. “I know that Cas but…” you closed your eyes, feeling a headache beginning to start you pinched the bridge of your nose between your fingers. “Can’t you just wipe my memories or something? Make it all just go away?” Castiel smiled and chortled. “I wish it was that simple Y/n.  You need to talk to Dean.” “I don’t know if I can Cas.” “I’m going to go check on him.” Cas nodded to you as he rose from his seat and turned to leave the room. Castiel knocked softly on Dean’s bedroom door. “Yeah.” Dean called out as he sat on his bed thumbing through pictures. Picture of you and Sam, and the three of you together.  He wiped a tear away from his eye as the door swung open. “You look terrible.” Cas deadpanned as he walked into the room. “You know, it wouldn’t kill you to lie every now and again.” Dean looked at Cas as he laid the pictures on his nightstand. “No, it wouldn’t kill me. I just … You …” Castiel looked at Dean with a confused expression on his face. “Forget it. Well, you, on the other hand, you…” Dean gestured to Cas’s appearance as he rose from the bed. “Looking good. So… Are you back?” Cas smiled and nodded. “At least temporarily. It’s a long story. Crowley, stolen grace. There’s a female outside in the car.” Dean raised his eyebrows and Cas just shook his head. “Another time.” “Well, thank you for, um… Stepping in when you did.” Dean looked down at the floor then, suddenly thinking about what could have happened if Cas hadn’t shown up when he did. Cas nodded his reply. “What did Sam say? Does he want a divorce?” Dean looked up at Cas, the worry evident in his green eyes. “And Y/n? Is she?” “I’m sure Sam knows that whatever you said or what you did, it wasn’t really you. It certainly wasn’t all you.” Cas paused. “Y/n, she is really struggling Dean.  I don’t know how to help her with this.” “I tired to kill him, Cas.” Dean felt the tears well up in his eyes. “But that’s nothing compared to what I did to her.  How can she ever forgive me for that? How am I supposed to forgive myself?” “Dean. You and Sam and Y/n have been through so much. Look, you and Sam are brothers. It’d take a lot more than trying to kill Sam with a hammer to make him want to walk away.” “You realize how screwed up our lives are that that even makes sense?” Dean chuckled a little to himself. Cas laughed softly then placed a hand on Dean’s shoulder. “You and Y/n need to talk.  You both love each other, that is obvious. You will find a way to work through this.” “I’m glad you’re here, man.” Dean smiled softly and clapped Cas on the shoulder. Cas nodded and turned towards the door, turning back to Dean just before heading out. “Hey, maybe you should um … take some time before you get back to work. Allow yourself to heal. It’s, uh … I don’t know. The timing might be right. Heaven and Hell, they seem reasonably back in order. It’s quiet out there.”

[hcheadquarters]

Pls write something about Jotaro getting hot and bothered because his s/o is wearing his shirt and thigh highs but he cant do anything about it for the time being because cherry boy is hanging out with them

I swear my writing is so long AHHH. Poor cherry boy. But mostly poor Joot. Save him. Also, I’m going to start putting pictures with my asks. Purely for the aesthetics. I think it’ll be a nice touch. I’ll credit artists in the tags!

You were running late, scrambling from your bed, to your bathroom,to your closet. You weren’t exactly a messy person, but you did tend to have…clutter.Your particular weakness was throwing your clothes on the floor when you wouldget home, usually tired and not to be bothered with the steps it took to eitherhang them back up or throw them into the laundry bin. You told yourself thatyou would put it away the next day…or the day after that.

Either way, you had to meet your boyfriend and his best friend soonenough to where you were beginning to panic. You eye your disorganized closet,brows furrowed and a lip bitten. You turn around and sigh, noticing a largepurple shirt hanging off of your bed. Ah…it was Jotaro’s. Your cheeks heat up abit, remembering when he was there with you last, where kissing became heavypetting, and heavy petting became…you swallow, remembering the chiseled torsohovering above you and the heated kisses you felt on your neck. Jotaro may havebeen a man of few words, but he was a gentle lover whose body language told youeverything he had trouble saying. You loved him so much.

You shake your head out of the steamy memory, remembering thathe and Kakyoin were probably wondering where you were now. You take Jotaro’spurple cotton shirt in your hand, perfectly clean and, better yet, stillsmelling like him. This would be acceptable. But it was big. Your boyfriend hasa large torso, and his shirt slides off your right shoulder, but it’scomfortable. Your head tips as you look yourself in the mirror. You can makethis work.

You manage to tie the shirt into a knot, coupling it with a pairof high-waisted shorts and a pair of black thigh-high tights. You had asneaking suspicion that Jotaro had a little thing for thigh-high or knee-highsocks. You could tell in the way he shifted his weight or how he would pull youin a little closer, maybe putting his arm around your waist, almostprotectively, while his eyes wandered a bit over your thighs. Jotaro had hisways of showing his appreciation, even if they were subtle and only noticeableby you.

After you put your hair up, you’re satisfied and run out thedoor to meet the two young men.

Kakyoin’s house is blessedly not as far away as you had thought,and you get there in record time, holding the cookies that you made theprevious night for this occasion. Kakyoin was cooking lunch, and you didn’twant to come empty-handed. As you approach the door of his modest, but stillpretty, house, you reach out your hand to knock on the door. But before you do,it opens and Kakyoin is standing there, charming smile gracing his face. He iswearing a black apron, green sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Judging from thecool smile and confident look in his eyes, he was probably pretty pleased withwhat he was creating in the kitchen. How did he know you were there? Somehowyou weren’t too surprised, though. Kakyoin just seemed like someone who woulddo that.

“Oh, hello there!” you say cheerfully, presenting the homemadecookies to the red-head. He takes them from you graciously, nodding his headpolitely.

“Thank you. That’s awfully kind. Please come in.” Kakyoin turnsand walks back inside, and you wonder if you arrived before Jotaro. But thatthought is put away from your mind quickly as his tall form takes up thedoorway to greet you, right behind Kakyoin, wearing his typical ensemble. You smilewarmly at your quiet boyfriend, approaching him happily, stretching yourself abit to reach up and kiss him on the cheek, and one of his arms snakes aroundyour waist in a hug while the other remains in his pants pocket. You alwaysloved the way his little hugs felt. Even in one-armed hugs, you could feel theintent as he would always make sure to squeeze you against him in the nookunder his arm and against his chest. It was such a nice feeling.

Upon breaking the hug, Jotaro eyes you up and down for a moment,straightening up a bit as he takes in the sight of you, a small blush dustingacross his cheeks. “That looks…familiar.”

You laugh, “It’s a very comfy shirt. You don’t mind, do you? I’llgive it back later if you-“

“N-no,” Jotaro interrupts, voice low and quiet, “You look good.”His eyes, trail over your exposed shoulder, then towards the small expanse ofthigh being teased by the high tights. His eyes rest there for a moment beforepulling his hat down and turning his head, hiding the ever-increasing blush onhis face.

You tip your head curiously, but follow him into Kakyoin’shouse. Upon entering, your nose is immediately greeted with a multitude ofpleasant smells, and you can hear the sizzling of vegetables and meat in a panthat Kakyoin is tossing in front of the stove.

The kitchen is connected to a small living room with a kotatsu,sitting pillows, and a large chair in the corner. There is a large televisionagainst the wall, with a loading screen for Super Smash Brothers game, themusic turned down very low. They must have been playing before you got there.Suddenly you didn’t think being late would have been a big deal after all.

“Do you like spicy, or would you prefer a more mild dish?”Kakyoin asks from the kitchen.

He was making coconut curry! “Spicy is just fine with me,” youreply, leaning over the counter, slightly aware that you were bent over in away where your boyfriend had the best view of your back dipping. You can hearJotaro shifting his position on the chair he’s in for a moment before he padsover to stand beside you, placing his hand on your waist. You sigh fondly. Thatwas a familiar feeling.

“And for Jotaro, very very very very very mild,” Kakyoin teasesas he sprinkles a spice in a pan, it appears to be turmeric? You curl your lipsinto a bracing smirk, waiting for Jotaro to scowl at him or grumble something underneathhis breath; he was actually pretty funny when he was embarrassed over littlethings like that.

But there was nothing but silence. Where was the growlingretort? You turn your head to Jotaro and his head is resting in his hand on thecounter, and you notice that his eyes are fixed on you, slowly wandering up anddown your figure, and you can tell he’s biting the inside of his cheekabsent-mindedly. You blush, “Jotaro…”

Jotaro straightens up quickly to attention, hand sliding acrossyour back in the movement. He swallows. “Hm?”

Kakyoin even stops for a moment, surprised by the lack ofresponse as well. He raises an eyebrow but continues his mixing of spices inthe pan, pouring in the coconut milk. Jotaro is turning away from you, settinghis elbows on the countertop and resting his chin in his hands, eyes darkeningbeneath his hat. You want to giggle, but stop yourself. You definitely hadpicked the right outfit today. Poor Kakyoin. But he didn’t seem to notice,thank goodness.

You pat Jotaro’s thigh gently, giving him a smile. He respondswith an appreciative sound as he gives your hand a few light, reciprocatingpats. What a stoic man. (Not really.)

“Do you need any help?” you ask, moving your hand away. Kakyointurns his head curiously.

“Well, if you could cut some of these carrots and this lastchicken breast that would be helpful.”

Jotaro can cook, but mostly simple things, not usually fromscratch like this meal seemed to be. You hop up and go inside the kitchen,taking the knife and cutting board beside the sink and getting to work. Youhave the uncanny feeling that Jotaro is watching your every move, and wheneveryou steal a glance at him, you seem to be right. Each time you meet his eyes helooks away almost too quickly, maybe changing positions in his seat. Subtle.You could see his eyes roaming over hips and legs, and you make sure to shiftyour weight a few times as you chop to keep yourself moving around.

You go to scrape the vegetables and chicken into the pan whileKakyoin declares, “You’re very lucky, Jotaro. Having such a sweet girl that canhelp cook and make cookies like these.”

Jotaro mumbles, “You’re right…I am…” Kakyoin smiles to himself,and you feel yourself blushing. You hope you weren’t third-wheeling the youngman, but you can’t help the swell of affection you feel suddenly for the broodinghandsome guy you called your own, watching you with such obvious fondness. Well…obviousfor him.

Finally the feast is complete and the three of you are sittingat the kotatsu with plates. Jotaro has taken off his jacket finally, and hemunches on the curry thoughtfully, giving Kakyoin a nod of approval.

“Thank you for the meal. It’s really good, Nori!” you praise himas you reach over the table to grab your glass of water. The curry was prettyspicy indeed. As you reach over, Jotaro’s shirt on you falls off your shouldereven more, causing a deeper dip in your chest that Jotaro’s eyes are suddenlyglued to. He swallows almost uncomfortably loud, and he lowers his head ontohis plate, hat covering his eyes once more as he shovels in more of the foodwith his chopsticks with more enthusiasm than before. You can see a hint of redon the tips of his ears that his hat does not cover.

“You’re very welcome. Jotaro, your face is getting red. I madeyours mild!” Kakyoin chides, taking a careful bite from his own chopsticks.

Jotaro shoots him a glare as if he’s being betrayed.

Kakyoin blinks at him for a moment, seemingly unmoved, but hegets the hint and keeps eating his curry pleasantly and quietly.

“Are you alright, Jojo?” you ask, hand creeping under the tableto rest on his thigh.

Jotaro twitches, swallows another mouthful of food hastily, andclears his throat. “Fine…”

He finishes his plate long before you and Kakyoin do, and hetakes his plate up to the kitchen sink to wash, paying close attention to whereyou are in your meal.

By the time he’s completed washing his own plate and utensils,and well as Kakyoin’s, you’ve finished your meal with a contented sigh. But youcan’t relax for too long before Jotaro is sitting beside you and gripping yourhand in his, bowing his head in front of Kakyoin. “Thanks for the food. We haveto go.”

Kakyoin, mild look of surprise, raises an eyebrow but responds, “Abit quick, but…alright,” he looks at you smiling, “Thank you for the cookies. I’lltry not to eat them all before your next visit.” You nod pleasantly, a littleconfused as to why you have to leave so suddenly. But if Jotaro is saying it’snecessary, then you should probably take heed.

Jotaro has you practically flying out the door so quickly thathe forgets his own jacket. But for once he doesn’t seem to mind. His pace isquick, and you almost have to jog to keep up with him even though he’s holdingyour hand.

“J-Jotaro, what’s going on? You know you left your jacket,right? Why are you in such a hurry?”

You can tell that he doesn’t want to answer by the way he’sbiting his lip, but you have to stop walking before you panic.

“Jojo!”

That seems to startle him, and he stops in his tracks to look atyou.

“What’s the rush?” you demand, a near squeal hitting the lastword. Jotaro looks a little flustered for a moment, seemingly finally realizinghow he must look to you, He lets go of your hand and tips his hat down.

“You…I want us to be alone…”

You blink a couple of times, still feigning confusion.

Jotaro huffs, clearly frustrated that he has to say it out loud.“You look…really good in my shirt…and those…” he gestures towards your lowerhalf, clearly in reference to your cute little thigh-highs and shorts, “I don’tthink I can pretend to hide it anymore.”

You heart seems to skip a beat. You had successfully thoroughly flusteredyour boyfriend. You smile and get on your toes to give him a kiss, feeling himjump slightly but quickly settling into it. His hand ghosts up your bareshoulder up to your neck and then to cradle your face as you kiss him.

He breaks the kiss for a moment, whispering gruffly, “Please…let’sgo to my place…now.” The last word is said just a bit louder than the rest; wasthat a hint of desperation at the end of that? You lift your hand up to squeezehis.

“Okay.”

As soon as you shut the door, Jotaro’s thrown his hat to thefloor and is holding you against the wall. He’s normally not quite thisaggressive, but you were certainly not complaining. Your breathing is becomingragged as Jotaro places needy kisses down your neck, collarbone, and bare shoulderthat his old shirt is being draped over. One of his hands easily rips open theknot you had tied to keep his shirt from being too loose, and it slides upunderneath it. You let out a soft moan as you feel his roughed fingertipscaress your skin underneath the fabric of the shirt, sliding up your stomach tograsp one of your breasts. He gives it a few gentle squeezes, and your breath hitchesas his thumb slowly traces circles over your nipple, agonizingly slow. He bendsdown and lightly bites at your other breast through the fabric of the shirt, and youcard your fingers through the dark curls of his hair, groaning and arching slightly to pressmore of yourself into his mouth, to which he replies with a content grunt.

It’s not long before he dips his head underneath the purpleshirt altogether, lord knows he has plenty of room, and he runs his tongue overyour breast as his hands fiddle with the buttons of your shorts. You’re sodistracted with the pleasure of him suckling at the delicate skin of your hardened nippleto realize how quick he’s gotten you out of your shorts and panties. Jotaro takesone of your legs and swings it over his shoulder. He lifts his head out fromunder the shirt for some air and he’s panting slightly, mouth hanging open fromhis affections on you earlier. He looks up at you darkly, clear want in hiseyes; that look of his always makes you hold your breath.

Jotaro’s hand slides up your standing leg, stopping just below your sex, and you bite your lip at the pause. You want to be touched more, but it seems he wants to appreciate the sight of you in this scandalous outfit a little longer. He plants kisses on theinner thigh of your bent leg, still resting on his shoulder. He bites the tender fleshgently, eliciting a gasp from you. All you had on were stockings and his shirtnow, no longer tied up so it was slipping even lower off of you. Jotaro looksup at you after laying another kiss on your sensitive skin, and you’re still chewing on your lip desperately, desire coiling in your stomach.

“You should look like this more often,” he mumbles, “It’d benice to see greeting me when I get home…” Your heart beats fast. You would mostcertainly do that in the future.

[buckybarnesappreciationsociety]

“Jade Green Eyes” Part 1

Summary: Alexia Hargrove, Class 5 mutant. She possesses the power of telepathy and  shapeshifting. Growing up with Professor Xavier at his school for “gifted” children, she learned to harness and expand her powers. Now, HYDRA’s on her trail and the Avengers want to keep her safe.

Pairings: Sam Wilson, Bucky Barnes x Mutant Black Reader, Alexia Hargrove (future chapters will include X-Men)

Word Count: 1,320

Warnings: Swearing, angst

A/N: I’ve never attempted to write a mutant fic, so I’m nervous. If all goes well, there will be 2 or 3 more parts. Italics denotes speaking telepathically. Comments are welcome. ENJOY!

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Alexia Hargrove’s life spiralled out of control at the tender age of 5. In kindergarten, Jimmy Watson the class bully, shoved Alexia in the mud during recess and what ensued next was, um, otherworldly? Alexia narrowed her jade green eyes and Jimmy was hurled face first into the mud, coupled with a bloody nose.

 The Hargrove’s were summoned to the Principal’s Office, where the child was reprimanded like an adult. They made a decision that day to “fix” her abnormality.

One blustery fall day, Mr. and Mrs. Hargrove received a visit from Charles Xavier and Ororo Munroe from “Xavier’s School For The Gifted.” Alexia had come across their radar via Cerebro, a machine used to locate mutants. At the end of her rope, Mrs. Hargrove didn’t flinch handing Alexia over to Charles Xavier. A deluge of tears ran down her caramel chocolate face. It saddened Alexia to think her parents didn’t want her anymore.  What she didn’t know was they weren’t her biological parents. Little Lexi was dropped off on the church steps. Since Mrs. Hargrove was barren, she stole their hearts. As her powers came to life, they became weary and wanted to get rid of her.

 With time, Alexia learned what her powers were: telekinesis  and shape shifting! Jean Grey, Raven and Scott Summers took her under their wings, instructing Alexia how to control her powers and use them for good. By age 16, she had mastered her powers and was charged with helping other youngsters with the same abilities.

 But we all know where there’s good, there’s also evil. HYDRA started sniffing around and Alexia left the confines of Xavier’s school for France. She assumed a different identity because, after all, she could be whoever she wanted to be.

 At Stark Tower, the Avengers and Nick Fury were engaged in an intense meeting. Producing files with Alexia’s background, the stoic director handed the thick manila folder to Steve. Sam in all of his cocky glory quipped, “Oh my god, would you look at her? Damn she’s fine as hell.”  

 Steve smacked him back to reality. “Calm down Sam. She’s not a piece of meat to be ogled. We’re trying to bring her in because if she stays out there any longer, HYDRA’ll snatch her  for sure. We need to focus.”

 Natasha mused, “I’ve located her in Paris. She’s assumed the identity of a preschool teacher, Emilee Sanderson at The Maison Academy.”

 “Well, there’s no time to waste. Bring her back here in one piece. But be warned, she’s extremely strong. So use caution approaching her.” As Fury turned to leave, he glanced at Cap. “I’m counting on you Cap. We don’t have time to waste.”

 Steve morphed into Captain America mode. “I’ll take Nat and Wanda with me. Wheels up in 30 minutes. Get what you need.”

 The chilled Parisian air forced Alexia to pull the collar up on her coat. A startling chill ran down her svelte body. Sensing danger, she slipped into an alley and turned into a large cat, with deadly jade green eyes. Once Natasha was close enough, Alexia pounced and the malay ensued.

 “Ow shit! Get this fucking thing off me dammit!” The stealthy assassin attempted to remove the heavy cat from her back, but not before Alexia scratched her with long claws.

 Wanda intervened using telepathy. She knew Lexi was frightened and wanted to calm her down. Catapulting off a garbage can onto the ground, Alexia morphed back into human form.

 “Hi my name is Wanda Maximoff . This is Steve Rogers and Natasha Romanoff. We’re part of the  Avengers. Please, we mean you no harm.”

 Alexia nodded, “I know who you are. What do you want?”

 “Can we speak so everyone else can hear it?”

 Alexia folded her arms across her chest, “TALK!”

 Steve stepped forward, “You’re in danger Ms. Hargrove. An organization called HYDRA is onto you.”

 “HYDRA was eradicated after the Washington fiasco or so I thought..”

 Steve rubbed the back of his neck, “No ma’am, HYDRA ain’t gone. As a matter of fact, they’re sniffing around for ya. We came to bring you back to Stark Tower for protection.”

 Alexia chuckled, “You do know I’m a shapeshifter or did you miss my little introduction?”

 Visibly annoyed, Natasha chided, “Look honey. Not only do they know WHO and WHERE you are, they’ve concocted serum and created a mutant stronger than you! So, that being said, your best bet would be to come with us. If you wanna remain free.”

 Wanda pleaded, “Please come with us. We can protect you.”

 “How in the hell can you protect me from someone stronger than I am? You’re joking right?”

 Walking gingerly towards her with his hands up, Steve said,  “Because Stark Tower can block any outside interference, regardless of powers.Your powers will be fine.

Looking between Wanda and Natasha, Alexia had a major decision to make.

“Please follow me to my apartment. It’s about 2 blocks from here.”

 Wanda honed in on Alexia’s mind to detect any malice. “She can be trusted.”

 Approaching Natasha, Alexia apologized. “I’m really sorry for what happened back there. My first instinct is always go on the defensive.”

 “You didn’t know  us, so all’s forgiven.”

Alexia shrugged, “I did know who you were; just didn’t know your intentions.”

  Strolling to her building, she and Wanda engaged in an unspoken conversation.

 “So, how old were you when you knew about your powers?”

“5, that’s when my parents sent me away. What about you?”

“My powers came from Loki’s staff. My brother Pietro and I volunteered with HYDRA and this is what they did to me.” Wanda motioned her hands and red tendrils formed.

“I know about your brother and I’m so sorry.”

“Thank you. I miss him so much.”

“I’m an only child, an unwanted child.” Tears pooled in her eyes.

Placing an arm around Alexia’s shoulder, Wanda conveyed, “You’re part of our family now. Dysfunctional, yes, but we make it work.”

 Alexia formed a tight smile.  Wanda’s aura made her feel calm ; Natasha on the other hand, was rough around the edges, causing Lexi to form a wall between Nat and herself. 

 Once inside, Steve laid out all the particulars to Alexia. They’d remain in Paris for a few days so she could tie up any loose ends. Her heart sank thinking about her preschool class. She’d become accustomed to greeting their smiling faces.

 Her personal possessions were meager; a few pictures of Storm, Jean, Raven, Kitty and Professor X and a silver locket with her initials on the front.

 The last day was extremely emotional. Miss LeBlanc, head mistress at The Maison Academy, bid Emilee Sanderson a fond adieu. Alexia spun a convincing story about an urgent family crisis. The portly older woman understood, embraced Emilee and wished her well.

 On the outskirts of an old airfield, Alexia boarded the quinjet. Wanda felt her apprehension and reassured her this was the right thing to do.

 Change was never easy but safely came first. She didn’t want to endanger anyone at the school or where she lived. A bitter taste rose in her mouth. In a matter of hours, Alexia would be back on U.S. soil. Her safety was in the hands of the Avengers. What could possibly  go wrong?

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Hope I didn’t forget anyone. If so, please forgive me!