#Also I swear if anyone calls me old... It will be at your own risk lol

[the-20th-century-girl]

Feeling some kind of dumb accomplishment over the fact that my follower count now reads the year I was born.

[writeforfandoms]

Superhero

For Gazfest, hosted by the amazing @glitterypirateduck

Prompts: Roommate and "Stay still."

You're thrilled to find your roommate came home sooner than expected, but something is weighing on him.

Warnings: Swearing, yearning, Feels, idiots in love.

Word count: 2.3k

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x f!reader

You almost didn't notice the boots by the front door, except you accidentally kicked one of them. You swore softly and then grinned. Boots meant Kyle was back. 

"Kyle?" You called into the apartment, leaving your own shoes haphazardly dropped next to his boots. You didn't hear a response, so you paused in the hallway between your two rooms. 

You couldn't hear anything coming from his bedroom. Maybe he was taking a nap. Or out. 

Huffing at your disappointment, you opened the door to your room, intending to get into more comfortable clothes to do some baking. Honestly. You weren't some school girl with a crush. 

You were an adult with a crush. 

But really, who could blame you? Kyle was as close to perfect as anyone could get - brave, funny, witty, snarky at times. A great guy, really. Anyone would be lucky to have him. 

You walked into the kitchen, humming to yourself as you started pulling out ingredients for baking. You should probably make real food too at some point, but that was a later problem. 

You were just mixing the sugar and butter when you heard footsteps, and turned to watch Gaz settle heavily into one of the two chairs at the tiny table. Your heart sank - he looked awful. Tired. Hurt. 

"Hi," you murmured, holding on to your cheer for the moment. "When did you get home?"

"Couple hours ago." He managed a little smile for you, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Was a last minute thing." 

You nodded, looking back at the dough. "Have you eaten?"

"You don't have to mother me." There was the faintest hint of irritation to his tone. 

You blinked, lips parting in surprise. "Is that what you think I'm doing?" You asked softly, leaving the fork in the bowl to cross over in front of him. You crouched next to him, tipping your head to look up at him. 

He didn't answer, the twist of his lips at once stubborn and regretful. But he wouldn't respond further, you knew from experience. Damn stubborn man. 

"Kyle." You risked resting one hand on his knee, light, easy to dislodge. "I would do this for any friend, and especially one as important to me as you are." You fought past your embarrassment at being so openly emotional, forcing yourself to hold his gaze. "Okay?"

His shoulders relaxed and he blew out a breath. "Okay," he agreed, his hand landing over yours, holding you in place. "I'm sorry." 

"Don't be." You smiled up at him, squeezing his knee gently. "But if you insist, you can make it up to me by helping me eat these cookies." 

He laughed, quiet and much more relaxed. "Well, that sounds horrible," he agreed cheerfully. "Might have to twist my arm, love." 

Your heart clenched at the easy pet name. He'd been calling you that for months now, and you'd convinced yourself it didn't mean anything. "I know," you agreed, matching his amusement. "That's why it's your punishment." 

You stood, and he released you. "Gonna hang out with me while I finish these up?" 

"'Course," he agreed quickly, watching as you got back to the cookie dough. Fortunately it was no worse the wear for having been temporarily abandoned. 

This was easier. You caught him up on everything he'd missed while you finished up the cookie dough. (Your next door neighbors were gone now after a screaming match loud enough the entire floor heard, work was fine but boring, you'd received a wedding invitation for an old friend.) You even tossed him a few chocolate chips just to watch his eyes crinkle as he caught them. 

He didn't tell you where he'd been. He never did. Safer for everyone, he'd told you. (You also had the feeling he wasn't allowed to tell you.) But he did update you on the latest of Soap's shenanigans, and the pranks he'd pulled off. 

By the time he'd caught you up on hiding all of Price's cigars, leaving you in stitches, the oven was beeping at you that the cookies were done. You pulled them out and immediately brandished the spatula at Kyle. 

"Don't even think about it," you warned him. "Five minutes." 

"Would I do such a thing, love?" Kyle held his hands up in surrender, but you knew better. You narrowed your eyes at him. 

"Yes."

He paused and then shrugged, apparently deciding against trying to defend himself. 

"You thinking of going to the wedding?" He asked instead, leaning back in his chair, apparently to show you he wasn't planning mischief. 

"Dunno yet. I need to check on some things first." You bit your lip, tapping your fingers against the counter. 

"Keep me updated, yeah?" He stretched one leg out to nudge your ankle. 

"I will, I will." You rolled your eyes and started plating up cookies. "How long are you home?" 

"Three weeks." He shrugged. "Plenty of time." 

"Excellent." You set the cookies in front of him and sat across from him, letting him take a cookie and watching eagerly for his first bite. 

He groaned softly in appreciation, eyes closing. "Still the best damn cookies," he mumbled through a mouthful of cookie. 

"Flatterer." You smiled, taking a cookie and biting into it. Still warm from the oven. Yum. 

The rest of the evening passed in warmth and laughter and too many cookies. You both migrated to the couch eventually as rain pattered against the windows, turning on something mindless for background noise. 

When Kyle pulled you closer, you didn't object. When you threw your legs over his lap, he didn't object. When he offered a blanket, you made sure you both cuddled up under it together. 

You woke up to your alarm going off, warm and still wrapped up in the blanket and Kyle on the couch. He groaned softly, head lifting as he blinked blearily. 

"Shit, I'm sorry." You tugged at the blanket, hot and embarrassed and far too comfortable. 

"Don't be," he muttered, voice rough with sleep still. The sound made you even warmer, aching just a little. "Need to go?"

"Work," you agreed with a little smile, still embarrassed. 

"Mmkay." He squeezed you gently before helping remove the blanket. You hissed at the cold air on your skin, and he immediately grabbed you again. 

"I wish I didn't have to go." You let the admission fall softly between you two, one hand curling around his arm. 

"You've got tomorrow off, yeah?" He rested his forehead against your temple. 

"All weekend, yeah." 

"Then we'll make a day of it. Anything you wanna do." 

"Okay." You drew in a deep breath. "Okay." You leaned harder into him for a moment. This was just riding the edge of too much, so tempting and so close. 

But you forced yourself to pull away before you could do something foolish, like kiss him. 

Work absolutely dragged, partially because Fridays were always slow, and partially because you were eager to get back home.

Especially because he'd texted you after lunch telling you not to worry about dinner. 

Silly, beautiful man. Probably trying to spoil you. Again. 

Finally, you shut off your computer for the weekend and headed home, not quite bouncing but close. 

Really, nobody could blame you for being so excited to see Kyle. Even though you had three whole weeks (maybe) to enjoy time with him. 

The trip home was both faster and longer than normal - longer because you had something to look forward to, shorter because you were so distracted you didn't notice the passage of time as acutely. 

"I'm home," you called as you opened the door, looking around for any kind of hint as to what he had planned for the two of you. Your shoes went next to his, more neatly this time. 

"How was work?" He didn't emerge from his room, calling to you. Temptation was too strong to resist, his voice the only siren song you cared for. 

"Fine," you answered, padding back towards the bedrooms. You paused in the hallway, looking on his open door to find him in slacks and a button down. His back was to you, giving you a chance to unabashedly stare at the breadth of his shoulders, the obvious strength there. You swallowed hard. "What's the occasion?"

"I'm taking you out." He half-turned to look at you, gaze warm. "If that's alright?"

Your heart thrummed in your chest, pulling towards him. "Of course," you agreed quickly. "Where are we going?"

"It's a surprise." He winked at you. 

You laughed, as you knew you were supposed to, and retreated to your room to change into something to match him. You just had to trust that he wouldn't lead you astray. 

(What a joke. Like you didn't already trust him with every bit of you.) 

Finally ready, you stepped out of your room. Kyle's eyes went wide from his spot on the couch, and his lips parted, just a little. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed, getting to his feet. 

"You look… great," he murmured, stepping closer to you. "Gonna tempt me into taking you out all the time." 

You ducked your head a bit, smiling, pleased. "I'll keep that in mind," you murmured, stopping in front of him. 

Kyle held out a hand to you. "Ready?"

"Ready," you agreed, smiling. Your hand fit into his, his skin warm and a little rough against yours. 

The trip was easy, Kyle staying close to you. The restaurant was one you'd normally never go to, nice and more expensive than you'd go for. But Kyle tugged gently at your linked hands before you could protest, leveling those big brown eyes at you like the most effective weapon. You caved without a word, letting him lead you inside. 

The host showed you straight back to a table for two by a window. Kyle even helped you into your seat. 

The two of you chatted easily through ordering drinks and food. (You winced a little at the prices but didn't say anything. Kyle still gave you a smile and quietly encouraged you to order whatever you wanted.) 

"Can I ask what prompted all this?" You leaned forward towards him, watching him carefully. Not only because it was so good to be able to see him after a few months of only the occasional picture, but also because you could usually read his expressions. 

He paused, chewing his lip, not meeting your gaze. "This last mission…" He paused there, momentarily struggling for words. "It ended okay, but… it was close. Too close." 

You slid one hand across the table, palm up, in silent offering. He squeezed your hand with a little smile. 

"Cap pushed me, actually," he continued, a little softer now. "Told me to stop waffling about you." 

"About me?" You blinked, caught off guard. "You talk to them about me?" 

"So much that Soap tells me to shut up," Kyle admitted with a little laugh. 

You smiled. "So, Price nudged you into this?" You prompted gently. 

"Sort of. More like he gave me the little push I needed." Kyle drew in a deep breath, holding your gaze across the table. "Been wanting to take you out for ages." 

"We go out," you tested. Carefully. This was delicate territory, you needed to proceed with caution. 

"Not like this." He bit his lip again before squeezing your hand. "Not like a date." 

Your breath caught in your chest, eyes going wide. "...A date?" You couldn't keep the hopeful note out of your voice if you tried. 

"Yeah." Kyle watched you every bit as carefully as you watched him. 

"I suppose now is a good time to admit I've wanted to ask you on a date for months?" You smiled hopefully, squeezing his hand. 

It was his turn to pause, eyes wide. Then he snorted, ducking his head briefly to hide his grin. "What a pair we are, huh?" 

You laughed quietly, letting go of his hand only so the waiter could put your plates down. "Remind me to buy your captain something nice for nudging you here." 

Kyle grinned, bright and happy and playful. "Solid plan, he'll appreciate you more than he already does." 

You beamed at him. "You really talk about me to them?" 

He nodded, a little abashed. "At least as much as I talk to you about them." 

"That's adorable, Kyle." You grinned at him. 

He huffed but smiled, apparently too happy to be embarrassed. Not that you could blame him - you felt much the same way. 

The two of you ended up playing footsie under the table all through dinner, playfully tapping each other's ankles and trapping feet. Your heart couldn't stop fluttering. 

Kyle insisted on paying, and held your hand all the way home. 

"Any other plans I should know about?" You asked, even as you unlocked the front door.

"Nah." Kyle grinned, right on your heels as you walked in. "Figured I'd leave that up to you." 

"I've got an idea where we can start," you murmured, turning to face him. "Stay still." Before he could ask, you reached up to cup his face in your hands, taking a moment to just look. He really was beautiful. 

And then you kissed him. It was everything you'd ever hoped and more. 

"Excellent idea," Kyle murmured when you finally pulled back, both of you a little out of breath. "I think we should do that more." 

"I agree." You pulled him back in to kiss him again. Hopefully you'd do a lot of that this weekend. 

[youlikefanficdontyousquidward]

Little less than super, soldier

Basically an oc x zemo fic but I'm going to write it in y/n style because that's what I'm comfortable with ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Also I am still working on Avatar and Spiderman fics just taking a self indulgent break because the FOCUStm is on Zemo rn.

Your characters background is clear as the story progresses but if you'd prefer to know it going in this is a post on it! And this is a short fic of that info too ✌

This is a part one... I got so excited and wrote a few more ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Summary: Sam gets back up from an old friend, meanwhile y/n is struggling to deal with Zemo.

warnings: for now canon typical violence, tho later chapters will contain mild body horror. Warnings will specify.

Nicht - Don't

Tut mir leid - I'm sorry

Soldat - Soldier

(My german is very basic so feel free to correct me!)

next

Sam hadn't seen you in years, not since he watched you walk away from him, Bucky and Steve. He couldn't argue with their decision, it was for the best. You were a wreck and despite his best hopes he knew you were right. If anyone knew you were alive they'd use you again.

Still he wasn't too surprised when you turned up at his house. He'd only been back from dust a few days earlier but he'd heard from others that you'd been there. Stepping up to help when people around the globe needed you. He hadn't realized the broken person he'd met screaming in a cell had so much heart.

Still you were a ball of nerves, being overly polite and stumbling over your questions. It was a far cry from the swearing, snapping venom you'd spit when the Avengers had you and it put him a little on edge. You just wanted to know if he was okay, if they all were and that you'd be leaving again. He'd given your shoulder a squeeze, despite the flinch, and wished you the best. You'd settled quickly under his had and that was the first time he saw you really smile.

He found the number a few hours later. A tiny scrap you'd somehow tucked into his own jean pocket. A small note, "Just in case." He felt oddly proud of who you'd become and kept it into his wallet.

That day passed into fond memory but every so often a little note and number would turn up. A small reminder you were out there and willing to help again. A few times he thought to call but he didn't. No point worrying you or pulling you back for nothing.

Only this wasn't nothing now. He and Bucky were stumped and with the threat of super-soldiers and he knew you'd want to know. Though the idea of dragging you back it was horrible. He felt the weight of his decision bearing down on his shoulders. Sam slumped further into his chair as he eyed the message. Then with a last deep breath in, his thumb tapped the glass.

Sent. Delivered. Read. Ellipsis.

Then nothing. He waited, head in hands, regretting it immediately. It wasn't like you wouldn't be a huge help but dragging you back like this? It just didn't feel right. Even if you came what could you know anyway? Hydra weren't exactly open with you about things whilst in there clutches. Hell you might end up coming to draw gun fire and that thought twisted his gut. Sam watched the screen until his eyes burnt, then let his head hit the desk.

The buzz startled him some time later. He flung out his seat, scrambling to the message. Bucky, whatever he had been up to after visiting Zemo he was ready to meet. Sam's shoulders sagged as he read the text. He wasn't disappointed, not really. He knew he was asking too much by contacting you. The risk to your freedom was eminence. There was no telling who was still out there looking for you, other than SWORD anyway.

Still Sam couldn't help but feel down as he got his things ready. God only knows what Bucky had done and meeting him across town in some garage didn't bode well.

Maybe you'd settled down somewhere, maybe you were happy. He hoped so, that you'd chosen yourself. Sam fortified himself, squaring his shoulders as he headed to the door. No point stalling, he needed to find out what Bucky had been up to.

He swung the door out quickly but found his feet rooted in place. There you were, frozen with a hand in the air ready to knock. A mess of hair, in sweatpants and an old thread bare t-shirt, looking rather stunned. He stared a moment, watching your mouth bob open and shut, over night bag slipping down your shoulder.

"Y/n!" Sam couldn't help the grin that spread across his face. To his relief your posture relaxed and you returned his smile. "Come on, Bucky might have something, we'll meet him across town."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You knew you should try to stop bouncing your leg but every time you lost focus it jumped to life. You didn't want Sam to see you worried like this. He'd always been so kind to you and you didn't doubt he'd let you leave if you asked. You couldn't however, no matter how much it felt like jaws were gonna snap down on you.

He'd been so nice in the car over, being careful to avoid touching you, asking after your life, avoiding making you speak any specifics. You appreciated that, although your run down, rented flat and part time jobs were hardly worth the effort. Hell you'd struggled enough making nice with coworkers, maybe a fresh start would be nice after this.

You'd wanted to call Sam. You'd wanted to check in with him and his family. For a time you even considered contacting Wanda but you never liked someone else in your mind with you. No you'd resigned yourself to the loneliness. Maybe you should get a pet.

"Is it Bucky?" Sam offered, eyes glancing to you before returning to scanning the room. "You know after Wakanda he's..."

"Yes I know." You interrupted, stilling yourself again. You'd actually gone to see him shortly after checking in with Sam. A guilty part of you had felt relieved when he'd disappeared. Though after the five year absence you felt you had to see him too.

He'd been starting therapy at the time, was working, he was doing well all things considered. Still you'd felt the need to check, to be sure the Soldat was gone. You'd left then satisfied that the man you'd known wasn't behind those kind sad eyes and that this Bucky that stood in his skin was not a threat. Still an incredibly able soldier just not of the winter variety. Anyway it wasn't him you were worried about.

When Sam had fully explained the situation you'd blanched. These flag-smashers had access to the serum. Not the same one you'd had pumped into you but a better one. One that left them with the strength and power of Captain America, not just side effects.

Still no matter what it cost, you couldn't leave knowing the serum was out there somewhere. So you'd focus on that, let it anger you, burn away any doubt and drive you forward.

You heard him before you saw him. Loud deliberate steps, Sam must have let him know you'd be there. Unless they were so as not to startle Sam. Regardless there was little more than a tight smiles shared before Bucky led you both further in to the garage.

You wouldn't say you were on comfortable terms with him yet. He was still guilt ridden about the Soldat's memories with you and you were still a little unnerved with a new man wearing the same face. It was nice to see him so happy though. Even in this circumstance his mood seemed far different than you'd ever seen him. Here's to therapy you supposed.

Bucky's plan seemed rather extreme. Break Zemo out and have him help. You had to admit it seemed rather extreme. The ex Colonel was part of an elite intelligence op and had a history of hating Avengers. Though he also hated super soldiers more so that might keep him on their side. Enemy of my enemy and all that.

Except you'd be among the enemy in that case. It wasn't outside the realms of possibility that Zemo didn't know about you. After all his search through the leaked files where rather singular in their aims. Your particular information had been lost or redacted so heavily that without specific knowledge on you it would be hard to link the two.

You continued to follow behind Sam, keeping your eyes on the shadows, watching your back. Some stress was elevated when Bucky flipped the lights on, continuing his back and forth with Sam after shooting a soft look at you. Nothing got past his notice.

If they kept this bickering up you'd be there all day. You slunk over to a car under the lights, perching on the open bonnet. You couldn't help the fondness in your smile as you watched their amusing relationship. Giggling to yourself as Sam rolled his eyes with his whole body, raising his brows to you.

"Look, let me just walk you through a hypothetical. Can I just walk you through a hypothetical." Bucky started.

"What did you do?" Sam questioned, his brow furrowing as he turned back to face him.

You felt tense again, arms uncrossing from your chest. You weren't quiet sure what was going on now. Clearly Sam had caught on to something you'd missed. Bucky launched into a far too detailed plan and you felt a shiver run down your spine. Every hair stood on end as the dawning realization hit.

"You didn't..." You almost whispered as Sam interrupted again. Then the door was opening and your ears were ringing. Your heart pounded in your throat as Sam charged forward in front of you. You were still stunned, now behind them both as Zemo entered the garage, dressed in a guards uniform.

He caught eyes with you for a moment, taking his hat off before returning to Sam and Bucky's argument. His eyes seemed to drift back to you before he interjected again.

You found yourself standing under his scrutinizing gaze, drifting closer to Sam, inching him further between you and Zemo. You barely followed what was being said, waiting for him to pull a gun or stop staring. Either was preferable in this moment.

"Okay." Sam spoke, defeat in his tone. You clenched your jaw. You didn't like this. If the guy wasn't gonna attack he was going to manipulate his way to his release, you were sure.

Still he seemed cooperative, leading you all back to a larger room filled with old cars. They were expensive things but you didn't let your eyes wander from him. Choosing to break the middle of the pack, you kept yourself between Sam and him. Despite his words and values you wanted to remain vigilant. If you could do nothing else you'd shield Sam.

Other than a few snide comments he seemed true to his word. He drove the group of you to an airport in mostly silence. Peaking back at you and Sam through the mirror.

"So all this time you've been rich?" Sam said incredulous at the sight of the privet jet on the tarmac. You'd calmed down a little, walking by him and Bucky's side as you followed.

"I'm a Baron Sam, my family was royalty until your friends destroyed my country." Zemo spat back. You couldn't help but snort at his comment. You regretted drawing his attention again when he stared back at you. You looked away until his attention left, drawn else where.

Bucky and Sam eyed you a moment and the indignation flared in you again. "What? They dropped that city on me." you hissed quietly. You weren't sure you wanted Zemo to hear that. Sam looked stunned blinking at you before he was turned back to the plane. You fell back in step behind the group as you approached.

You suppose you never did tell him about that. Just letting it stew with your general hatred towards your then captors back then. It'd been a huge loss to you. A life built there crashing down on top of you, leaving you broken and pinned for days. You shook the memories away trying to forget the carnage.

Zemo greeted an old butler looking guy at the steps. To your delight he was wearing the little white gloves and everything. Sam awkwardly nodded and you gave the man a genuine smile as you passed. He was just like the caricature on TV. He looked to be 100 and considering his familiarity with Zemo he could've known him all his life.

It soon set you on edge to be at his mercy 1000 feet in the air. With a knowing look he could fly you all anywhere and you'd be none the wiser. Certainly wouldn't make a change from most flights you'd been on, at least your hands would be free.

Zemo smiled at you as you boarded, gesturing to the seat opposite his own. You ducked your head, shifting quickly to the back behind Sam. If the staring was bad in the garage you sure as hell didn't wanna experience it in direct line of sight.

You didn't catch his name but Zemo spoke to the butler in Sokovian for a moment, implying he'd give out of date food to Sam and Bucky. Angered you huffed, Zemo turning at the sound. You caught his eye, keeping a glare set on his smug expression.

"Nicht." You bit out through gritted teeth. Your Sokovian was rusty but you saw the slightest change in Zemo's expression, before it settle back into a cat like grin.

"Tut mir leid." He nodded, turning back to face forwards again. Sam's head peaked at you from round his seat but you just slumped back into your own. Staring out the window and gripping the arm rests as the plane took flight.

Not long into cruising altitude Zemo angered Bucky. You hadn't been paying them much attention by this point. You'd found yourself relaxing and had become dazzled my the ice on the window and fluffy clouds below. You were startled back by the sudden movement of Bucky. Jumping up and catching Bucky's eye as he took his hand off Zemo's neck and slumped back into his seat, his book back in his hands.

Cursing under your breath you moved to the seat in front of Zemo now. You resigned yourself to a task to keep you awake, stop them from killing one another.

Zemo spoke an apology, but it seemed more probing than you liked. To your relief Sam seemed to turn the conversation back to lighter topics. You slid further into your seat a moment before Zemo began pushing again. You glare into him, not missing the way he glanced at you when he said "innocents die."

A small pang of fear hit you but you bit back a response. He'd clearly caught the hint of resentment you felt towards what happened in Sokovia. Still you kept your gaze level as you bit your cheek and allowed Zemo to continue.

Madripoor, you'd only ever been there in passing. The lawless nature allowed you to obtain some fake documents for relatively cheap. It was too risky to stick around though, too many dangers, too much risk of outing yourself.

Worse still Bucky was gonna have to put on an old mask.

Soldat

[savemewattpad]

Wicked and Divine: Part 1, Chapter 1

all her life, she's bound to lose...

Summary:

When John Winchester gets a call from a thirteen-year-old girl claiming to be his daughter, he and Dean go to investigate, bringing them into a complicated web woven by a charismatic cult leader named David Elwood--who also claims to be the girl's "husband."

Or, how Esther Smith became Leila Winchester.

Warnings: Sexual Abuse, Religious Abuse, Cults, Child Marriage, Pregnancy, Miscarriage

Pairings: None

Next Chapter | Masterlist

Read on AO3

Oregon, 1988

“I shouldn’t be flirting with you,” Melisa says, taking another drink of whiskey. It burns, and she knows it’s supposed to. It still feels like punishment. 

John Winchester sits across from her, studying her. He’s a quiet man, she’s found, in the short time she’s known him, but she thinks there’s nothing that really gets past him. 

“And why’s that?” he asks, a smile toying at the corner of his mouth. “You got someone at home?”

An icy chill settles into her gut. “Define ‘home,’” she says. There’s nobody waiting for her in her apartment, but there’s a presence that follows her everywhere ever since she met him . The man that changed her life. Sometimes, in petty, ungrateful, cowardly moments, she wonders if it was really for the better. 

John looks away, pensive, and takes a swig of his own drink in lieu of a response. She wonders what home is to him. 

She takes him to her apartment anyway. Maybe she shouldn’t--despite the fact that he saved her life, he’s still a stranger, and a sketchy one at that. Maybe it’s that risk that makes him appealing to her. Maybe that’s what it all comes down to. 

She keeps looking at her Gibborim Bible on her side table, like she’s asking it for forgiveness. John follows her gaze. He doesn’t ask about it. She supposes he’s seen too many crazy things to call anyone’s religion crazy. 

“I can’t stay the night,” John says as he starts getting dressed. “Sorry.” He sounds genuine, if cavalier. 

“Do you believe in faith healers?” Melisa asks him instead, apropos of nothing, and he gives her that scrutinizing look again, the one that seems to pierce right through her. 

“I’ve never seen one that was legit,” he says finally, with a shrug. 

“And you’ve seen a lot of crazy things,” she clarifies. 

He smiles bitterly. “Something like that, yeah.”

He looks at her again, a little softer this time, and she thinks he’s about to ask if she’s okay--she’s already bristling, ready to lash out at the question--

He shakes his head and looks down, pulling out a small notebook and scribbling something down. 

“This is my phone number,” he says, tearing the page out and setting it on her side table. She could swear there’s something...pointed, about the way he sets it on her bible. “In case there’s any more dybbuk trouble.”

Melisa nods a little. It’s unlikely. She’s probably never seeing him again, she realizes. There’s something bittersweet in that. It’s better that way. 

“Thanks for saving my life,” she tells him. 

He smiles. “You already told me that.”

“It’s worth repeating.” She smiles a little. “Goodbye, John.”

John has only been gone for a minute or so when he calls. And it’s one of those things that keeps her coming back, one of those things that doesn’t make sense unless he is what he says he is: he always knows when to call. He always knows when something’s happened, when she needs guidance. 

“David,” she says when she picks up. Thank God.  

“Melisa,” David says in that calm, velvet voice. “How are you?”

“I’m--” she almost says ‘good,’ reflexively, but she promised him she would never keep secrets from him. It’s liberating, in a way. 

She can’t find the words, so she sighs. 

“I sensed turmoil in your spirit,” David says, after giving her a moment to speak. “That’s why I called. Are you alright?”

“I--” she hesitates for a long moment. All of her guilt, all of her fear, it hits her all at once, and she feels like she could drown in it. Finally, she admits, “I need help.”

“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes,” David replies. “We’ll pray together, you and me. It’ll be alright.”

And there’s something in his voice that makes her believe him, more than she’s ever believed in anything. 

2002

It’s early in the afternoon when Jim Murphy gets the call. 

Sam is in the kitchen doing homework. Jim had told him to ask if he needed help, but Sam doesn’t seem to need it. He’s a smart kid. Jim wonders, idly, what he could do in a family that stayed in one place for longer than three months at a time. 

“Jim Murphy.”

There’s a long pause on the other end of the line. 

“Hello?”

“Um. I’m looking for John Winchester?” The voice on the other end is young, female, and sounds scared. Quiet, like she’s trying not to be overheard somehow. 

Jim knows that John used to give out his number as his own, back before cell phones were ubiquitous, but he hasn’t gotten a call for him in nearly a decade. “How’d you get this number, kiddo?”

“It was in my mom’s stuff. Her name was Melissa Smith. I--I think I’m his daughter.” Her voice breaks as the words tumblr out, quickly, like she’s running out of time. “And I need his help.”

“How old are you?” He reaches for a pad of paper and a pen on the counter. 

“Thirteen.”

“What’s your address?”

“I don’t--I don’t know what that means. Please can I just talk to John? I need help.”

How does a thirteen year old not know their address? “Where do you live? I’ll send him.”

“Woodscross.”

“Where is that?”

“In Oregon.” She pronounces Oregon strangely, like Oree-gone . He files away that detail for later. “Please help me. I think he’s trying to kill me.”

Jim Murphy is good in a crisis--it’s kind of his job--but the words do surprise him. He tries to keep his voice calm, for her sake. 

“Whoa, slow down. Who’s trying to kill you?”

There’s another long pause, and then: “I have to go. I think they found me.”

“No, wait, what’s your n--”

Click.

[you-remind-me-of-the-babe]

15 questions | 15 people

Thank you for the tags @theearlgreymage @johnwgrey @ic3-que3n @shrekgogurt @yellobb @artsyunderstudy

1. Are you named after anyone?

Not technically. My mom’s friend was named Jessica and I think she just liked the name. She swears that, besides the actress Jessica Tandy and her friend, she didn’t know any other Jessicas in the mid 1980s. Yet Jessica was in the top 5 female names from 1977-1997. You tell me if you believe her.

2. When was the last time you cried?

Several times this week, thanks to @moodandmist and @cutestkilla’s beautiful song “I Remember Love” which makes me cry every time I listen to it 😭😭😭

3. Do you have kids?

2 boys, who are 7 and 4 years old.

4. Do you use sarcasm a lot?

When the mood calls for it.

5. What’s the first thing you notice about people?

Eyes/smile or something that tells me how they are feeling.

6. Whats your eye color?

Green

7. Scary movies or happy ending?

I like watching things with a compelling story. If it’s got that, then either is fine.

8. Any special talents?

I can do accents sometimes. Not quite good enough for fic readings, unless I had rehearsed before hand, and who has the time for that? I wish I did though!

9. Where were you born?

California, and I’ve never left :)

10. What are your hobbies?

Reading, writing, playing table top games, going for walks/hikes. Sometimes I garden but mostly I plant things and forget about them until the next time I notice my yard is out of hand and it takes me several weekends to get it back under control. Lol

11. Do you have any pets?

Not currently. I grew up with pets (dogs, cat, fish, mice) and had my own dog as an adult who died recently. I’ve since become allergic to furry friends and also young kids are enough work. If I come to your house, I’ll pop an allergy pill and love on your buddies :)

12. What sports do you play/have you played?

I played sports as a kid but none lasted into my teen years. In college my friends and I played weekly games of Wallyball (volleyball in a racket ball court) and I was quite good at that!

13. How tall are you?

5’9”

14. Favorite subject at school?

Theater, history, math.

15. Dream job?

I would love to own a bookstore/cafe. My husband would love to own a record store/music venue. We are not risk taking/entrepreneur types so it’ll never happen, but it’s fun to dream!

Tagging @fatalfangirl @moodandmist @cutestkilla @facewithoutheart @aristocratic-otter @ileadacharmedlife @skeedelvee @onepintobean @chen-chen-chen-again-chen @captain-aralias @palimpsessed @prettylightsbigcity @foolofabookwyrm-activated @angelsfalling16 @whogaveyoupermission

Apologies if I tagged you and you’ve already done this

[chernayavidua]

RULES

one: i am changing my approach to my blog and how i run it because i want this hobby to be fun again. what does this mean? it means that this will be a low frills semi-selective, mutuals only blog that will be writing focused. aside from the occasional plotting call, memes will be a great way to break the ice. plotting is also highly encouraged as it makes things easier for me, i don't always do well with winging situations. also despite these extensive rules 9.5/10 times i am more intimidated by you than you are of me.

two: i reply to memes as if i was sending a starter, especially if we do not have active threads going. because of this i participate in what i call "3-strikes-you're-out." meaning if there is a pattern of my meme replies not get a like or even a comment let alone a reply, i will stop interacting with you for a while. if the pattern continues, i will soft block. i'm here to write, i don't appreciate wasting my time or writing.

three: speaking of writing ... i am slow when it comes to replies as i am a full time student and i am currently volunteering, please be patient with me. because of my limited time for this hobby i will be relying on heavily on the queue to post most things. formatting is limited to small text, bold, and italicized font with the occasional icon thrown in.

four: i give the energy i get. which means that if i have made plenty of attempts to interact with you but there hasn't been any ooc communication regarding our thread or my messages go unanswered, i will drop the thread. if you wish to pick up an old thread all you have to do is reach out and let me know. however, if this becomes a pattern start deleting meme replies that have not been answered after 3+ months. if the pattern continues i will hard block. this isn't personal. you're probably super great irl and we could even be friends irl but i've been strung along too long. i don't want my time or energy to keep being wasted on people who string me along.

five: due to the nature of this character, mature themes such as but not limited to drinking, mentions of war, fighting, fictionalized political scenarios, torture, etc will be present. follow at your own risk. i do not write with anyone under 21.

six: this blog is multiverse and multiship, meaning that romantic relationships will never overlap with one another unless specifically plotted that way. and while i am a huge fan of shipping, romantic connections are based on chemistry and reciprocated interest.

seven: speaking of reciprocated interest... i send memes to people randomly on my dash but if i notice that none of the ones i send are getting a reply or if i send but never receive, i will eventually stop sending memes to those specific people. again, i give the energy i get.

eight: smut may make an appearance however i will only write it with those over 21. while i do like writing smut 1) that is not the focus of this blog and 2) if my writing partner(s) does not feel comfortable writing it out, fade to black is always an acceptable option.

nine: i do not have a banned fc list because i do not have the time or energy for that. the only two fcs i do not want to see no matter what are an.a d.e ar.mas and sca*lett joh*nsson. please do not tag me in things with sca*lett as her version of the character is not the one i portray. i will do by best to try and tag things accordingly. i will use suggestive / and suggestive cw along with nsft tw as i see fit. if i forget to tag something, i swear it is not on purpose. please simply message me or send an ask to let me know.

ten: i do not and will not participate in call out posts as it has been shown time and time again that they do not work. i will occasionally vent about my frustrations re the rpc and my experiences which i try and tag with vent / or vent tw.

eleven: credit for the lovely pinned banner is to zanzabug with tweaks to coloring by me. main psd used is by discopada on deviant art with heavy adjustments by me. all icons, edits and gifs posted are created by me.

thank you for taking the time to read my rules ! i am soph / +21 / chic.ana / pst. my disco*d is available to mutuals for writing or chatting and i look forward to writing with you all ! <3

*updated 12th december 2023

non-rp blogs do not interact

[ptergwen]

fluffy make out sesh w petey? <3

call it even

w/c: 1,074

warnings: like two swears?

a/n: i don’t know why this ended up being so long but it did lmfhwjwhs i hope it’s everything u wanted and more :D

-

“god, how much time is left?” you complain, circling your index finger around peter’s chest.

peter refuses to expand his horizons beyond star wars, so you two are watching revenge of the sith yet again. you’re seated in his lap and doing everything you can to get his attention. it’s the only way you’ll be able to make it through the damn movie.

unfortunately for you, peter has a huge crush on anakin. that means his eyes are literally glued to the screen.

“we’re not even halfway through yet. get comfortable, babe,” peter smugly replies. he grabs your hips and squeezes, cocking his head to the side to see better. you tilt your own head so it’s blocking his line of vision. “i am comfortable… very. are you?” your voice drops an octave.

a smirk crossing his features, peter finally meets your eyes. “i know what you’re trying to do, and it’s not gonna work.” you gasp to feign innocence. “silly old me? what ever are you talking about, peter dearest?”

peter moves an arm so it’s around your lower back, you batting your lashes down at him. you yank on his flannel collar to keep him in place. he leans in closer to you until his lips brush the shell of your ear.

he’s all yours.

“i appreciate the effort. now, if you don’t mind…”

peter pulls away from you with a terrible wink that’s stupidly adorable, but you’re too annoyed to admit it.

you give up your facade, swapping it for whining and tugging on peter’s shirt. “no fair! all i want you to do is spend some time with me, petey.” gazing over your shoulder, you shoot the tv a death glare. “fuck george lucas.”

“woah, woah! don’t go that far!” peter defends, chuckling nevertheless. he does feel kind of bad because he has seen star wars more than anyone else on this earth. it wouldn’t kill him to focus on you for a bit.

although, he’d still like to finish the movie.

peter brings your body in closer to his, pecking your forehead softly. “let’s make a deal,” he prompts you. you eagerly nod and sit up straighter. “i’ll give you as many hugs and kisses as you’d like-“

“perfect! you and that big brain of yours, my smart boy.” puckering up, you go right in for a smooch. peter holds out a finger and presses it to your lips to stop you, beaming. “i’m not done,” he laughs out. “i’ll give you as many hugs and kisses as you’d like, after the movie is over.”

you scoff and shove both peter’s shoulders. “why can’t you just multitask? you’d be getting the best of both worlds!” peter does not consider it. “and risk missing the most intense lightsaber duel in cinematic history? i don’t think so.”

“whatever you say… loser,” you mutter under your breath. he coaxes you away from him, keeping his arms around your waist with a scowl. “do you want your kisses or not, y/n?” this time, your mouth stays shut. “exactly,” peter concludes. “new deal, i’ll level with you and cuddle for a while.”

he hugs you to his chest, chin resting lightly on your head. you instantly settle in his warm embrace and feel safe in his strong arms. this will do.

“love you, petey,” you mumble against the skin of his neck. smiling to himself, peter peeks back up at the tv. “love you too, angel. but, shhh,” he shushes, resuming his millionth star wars viewing.

just like that, you’ve been replaced by darth vader. you need to fix this, and fast.

it doesn’t take peter too long to lose himself in the movie, which plays out in your favor for once. he just mindlessly rocks you side to side while he watches. his obliviousness, more so than usual, gives you the opportunity to reach over on the cushion next to you and grab the remote.

bingo.

you swiftly hit the power button, hiding it behind your back and eliciting a yelp from peter.

“y/n, what the hell? we had a compromise!” peter demands and lunges forward for the remote. grinning wickedly, you tuck it into your back pocket before he can. “we also had a deal, remember? movie’s over,” you elaborate. “kiss me, loser.”

peter can’t argue with that logic.

“sneaky,” he compliments, his forehead leaned against yours. his fingertips ghost over your chin. “i’m so impressed, i can’t even be mad. you win.” giggling, you place your hands on peter’s shoulders to balance yourself in his lap. “well, you’re the prize.”

“ugh, i love you so much,” peter sighs. he kisses your bottom lip gently, holding your chin between two fingers. “more than star wars?” you search for his hazel eyes. “more than star wars… all three trilogies,” he murmurs a sentence you never thought you’d hear.

your eyelashes tickle peter’s face, both of you sharing matching smiles.

“in that case…”

you close the small gap separating you two with your lips on his. peter reciprocates in a heartbeat, his own quickened as he melts into the kiss. one of your hands weaves its way to some fluffy curls at the nape of his neck. he cups your cheek tenderly, free hand on your side and a grin spreading across his face.

“i love you, too,” you whisper, your legs straddling his waist. “could tell,” peter acknowledges in a breathy laugh.

he uses the new position to his advantage and flips you so you’re laying down on the couch. him on top, you under and your legs still around him. the next kiss is initiated by peter, so soft it fills your whole body with butterflies. he continues to caress your cheek while his lips dance expertly with yours.

“you taste good,” you rasp, peter kissing up to the tip of your nose. “like what?” he wonders and punctuates his question with another kiss to the bridge. you’re sitting back and enjoying every second. “i dunno, something sweet… vanilla?”

“oh, yeah. i might’ve stolen your chapstick,” peter admits, his cheeks starting to feel hot. amused, you pinch one of them. “i was wondering where that went. i should’ve known ‘cuz you always ask me about it.” he dips down so his forehead falls on yours once again. “buy you a new one?”

your fingers thread through his locks, willing him to look at you.

“just kiss me, and we’ll call it even.”

[jilliannotfound]

prepare for a long ask (i’m sorry)

my brain is very full so hear me out-

dream smp casino/mafia au-

now i was at first thinking Kinoko kingdom (karlnapity) are the owners of the casino cause yk Las Nevadas Quackity but then i remembered “Syndicate” (by Derivakat) which has a jazzy vibe and was like, what if the Syndicate was a mafia ‘family’ that ran a casino and reader is their star performer who starts off every night with a performance of “Syndicate”. reader’s performance is used to kinda establish the Syndicate’s power over the casino and to remind the patrons anything they do will be under the scrutiny of a mafia with literally two of the most renowned mafiosos’ (Philza whose reputation of traveling all over and taking down many a mafia family precedes him and Technoblade who has taken down mafia families singlehandedly) in the city, maybe even the entire country.

the Eggpire is like a rival mafia that is trying to take control over the city so it isn’t uncommon for them to try and infiltrate the Syndicate casino. so i was thinking, what if the people who are Pro-Omlette (but not in the Syndicate so Puffy, Foolish (since it’s not confirmed he’s part of the Syndicate), Awesamdude and Eret) are staff at the casino. they were each like a lone agent after their mafia family split up/they left and decided to join forces with the Syndicate to make sure the Eggpire didn’t gain total control of the city. Maybe Sam is a bodyguard stationed either outside the casino or manning security cameras switching with Puffy, Eret can be like a stage manager/backstage to aid the performers and make sure no one sneaks into the dressing rooms or the light control area backstage and Foolish is like a bartender keeping an eye out on the main floor of the casino for any activity.

Dream was the former head of the well-renowned Dream Team mafia family until the family split. he’s notorious for breaking apart mafia families before disappearing into the night and traveling to a new city. occasionally he’ll hire some aid but they never last long.

Ponk used to be an on-sight medic for the casino in cause of bar fights or performers getting injured on stage but after many rumors (later confirmed to be true) of him being a member of the Eggpire he was fired and not allowed to enter the premise of the casino again.

Kinoko Kingdom was a rival casino/mafia family to the Syndicate’s but they’ve decided to have a truce to make sure Dream and/or the Eggppire don’t take over their city. Their casinos have different vibes with the Syndicate’s being more of a hub for mafia and business activity with jazzy music on the constant and famous for civilized and tame yet very entertaining entertainment whilst Kinoko’s casino is like more of a rowdy type casino, famous for high stake bets, drinks with high alcohol content and lively music and entertainment that can be seen as a bit too glitzy and tacky. Like you go to Syndicate casino for a night of business deals and building yourself up to the top, the type of casino you would bring your boss to, whilst the Kinoko casino is the type of casino you go to let loss and risk it all with cheap entertainment and even cheaper booze. their truce works out because their casinos are so different that competition wouldn’t be worth the cash (and the Syndicate knows they can easily take on the Kinoko mafia in a fight but shhhh)

there’s multiple places a reader character could fight but as a primarily Technoblade simp at heart i had to put reader as a performer in the Syndicate casino-

~🦫Anon (if this title isn’t already taken-)

𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕊𝕪𝕟𝕕𝕚𝕔𝕒𝕥𝕖

DSMP x Reader (in-game)

Summary: Request

Warnings: None?

A/N: Okay… I have a few important things to say. First of all, this story is not completed. This request is so genuinely good and I have been trying to work on it for far too long and have had very little success. With that being said I still want to publish the small bit of this story that I’m proud of.

Second of all, I would like any other dsmp writers on this platform to feel free to take this request and perhaps do with it what I wasn’t able to. If you write this story, please tag me because I’d love to see what you do with it. You can also use this bit I have written and am sharing to start off your own version of the story (just give proper credit)!

With all of that out of the way, please enjoy!

—

The Syndicate. One of the highest-end casinos in the country, and certainly the most powerful, being run by two of the best-known mafiosos.

Philza was best known for his travel, being able to track down anyone anywhere and take care of them.

Technoblade was easily the scariest man you could meet. He’d single-handedly taken down more mafia families at the age of 21 than most senior-aged mafiosos could even dream of.

It was rare to see either of the men in the casino, let alone to see them together, so when the pair came through the doors with power in their steps everyone knew something serious was in order.

They took their seats at the bar as Foolish prepared their drinks and Eret directed the casino's attention to the stage.

This performance was a nightly occurrence, the same jazzy tune came from the band's instruments as Y/N emerged from the curtain.

Hey, I'll tell you a little secret of mine

If you promise not to tell, if you have the time

Everyone has gotten you, always on the run

But if you join the Syndicate

Life could get a little more fun

It was the song of the casino, used to remind everyone just how much power it holds.

When all of the horses and all of the men

Won't learn from history, it's all the same in the end

I've told you once and I'll tell you again

The Syndicate is looking for a couple new friends

It reminds the patrons of the casino that no matter what they do, the Syndicate is always watching, studying each of them in hopes of finding some new friends.

Fight for freedom, fight to end the pain

Hey, this is serious, it's not just some little game

'Cause the anarchy's part of me, tyranny bothers me

End it all properly once and for all

They call us the villains 'cause they know we'll take the fall

The members of the Syndicate were a force to be reckoned with, composed of strong fighters and quick thinkers constantly working to take down anyone that dare stand in their way.

The Eggpire was their current concern. Run by a man named BadBoyHalo, the Eggpire was a whole other breed of mafiosos.

They preached about the Egg, whatever the hell that was supposed to be, and always wore a signature red color that made them easy to spot. Sometimes you could even swear there was a red glint in their eyes when talking about it.

After the incident with Ponk, their old medic that got caught up in the red whirlwind, the Syndicate became extra wary of the Eggpire, willing to do just about anything to take them down.

This is exactly why the two most powerful men were sitting together at the Syndicate’s bar with their eyes locked on the stage.

Fight for freedom, fight to end the pain

Hey, this is serious, it's not just some little game

'Cause the anarchy's part of me, tyranny bothers me

End it all properly once and for all

They call us the villains 'cause they know we'll take the fall

When all of the horses and all of the men

Won't learn from history, it's all the same in the end

I've told you once and I'll tell you again

The Syndicate is looking for a couple new friends

Oh, a couple new friends

Oh, oh, oh, oh

Oh no, no

You'll gain a couple new friends

As the jazzy instrumentals faded out, Eret poked his head out of the curtain on the side of the stage, gesturing for the resident singer to come backstage.

Y/N smiled at the audience and walked through the velvet barrier to be greeted by the deep-voiced brunette.

“Did you see who’s out there tonight?” They asked him.

“That's why I called you, they wanna see you.”

Y/N took a deep breath and headed out onto the main floor.

They’d been part of the Syndicate for most of their life and knew they weren’t in any danger near Techno and Phil, but the anxiety still pounded in their head as they approached the men.

Y/N sat on the stool next to Technoblade and the two turned their stools to face them.

“Lovely performance!” Phil praised

They shot him a kind smile and braced themself for the inevitable harsh news that would follow the attempted small talk.

“We need you to do something.” Techno said bluntly. “You know Las Nevadas?”

“Yeah, of course.”

It was another casino ran by Kinoko Kingdom, another mafia family. They used to be considered one of the biggest threats to the Syndicate because they had quite literally appeared overnight and nobody knew anything. Once the Eggpire popped up though, it was safest to become fast friends with the three men that ran Las Nevadas in hopes of strengthening their forces against the red abomination infecting families all over.

“We had a meeting with Quackity and he’s got a bad feeling about some guests that have been stopping by their area. It’s a shitty casino, we all know that, but he thinks it’s more than just some random troublemakers.”

…

:]

[saskiahaggens]

After the Storm Part 8

Masterlist

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 9,  Ploy Ending,

Pairing: Jake x fem!Reader x Richy x Phil (?)

Warnings:

spoilers

mentioning of death, attempted suicide

swearing

Word count: 3582

Please remember that English is not my first language, so please don't kill me.

You set your phone down on the sink and unplugged the hairdryer; your charger would take its place. You simply hoped Richy wouldn't call because you were using the old phone for this. With your recent phone, you called the other one and put the speaker on. You were relieved that this ancient thing could accomplish it; otherwise, your strategy would have been rendered worthless.

Your second phone was able to silence your side of the call, allowing you to hear if anything happened in the bathroom, but they couldn't hear you. You also exited the restroom with this phone on speaker. You checked your pocket for a penny while leaving the light on. The doors had a little slit in their lock, so you could open them from outside in case of an emergency. Normally, you couldn't open or close it without the key, but you discovered by chance that a coin could also be used for this. Probably many people know this trick, but you never really thought about this, until you were like seventeen.

You knocked on the bathroom door after the door was locked to see if you could hear it through your phone. Then you unmuted your phone to see if anyone else could understand you. For the most part, your strategy worked. Your plan worked for the most part. It was kind of obvious, due to the poor sound quality of the phone, that something wasn't right, but if someone had the need to check up on you in the middle of the night, they wouldn't question any further.

You jumped out of your window and dashed to the meeting spot you'd directed Jessy to. Your shoulder appreciated the fact that your room was on the bottom floor. Nonetheless, you made a mental point to never climb out of a window again with an injured arm.

You took out your phone again shortly after your feet touched the ground. Perhaps Jessy was already waiting for you, so you texted her that you'd be there in five minutes.

The streets were deserted; not even cars were parked on the side of the road, but you attempted to keep as hidden as possible.

You obviously arrived after Jessy, but she wasn't upset; she simply hugged you for a while. You had no idea why she behaved the way she did. You last saw her a few hours ago, although she was probably anxious because of the accident. So it took some convincing to convince her to follow you into the woods.

You liked the forest because it was quiet and there were no people around... but it was a risky place to be in your current situation. The only reason you wanted to go to the Dear Hut was Richy. You weren't sure how Jessy would react, and if she shouted for whatever reason, people would get inquisitive and peer out their windows, and well... you wanted to keep him safe. You would even risk your well-being for him.

You'd even risk your own safety for him. Jessy drew you out of your thoughts when she grabbed your arm. She was glancing around skeptically, and every noise made her heard skip a beat. You reasoned that talking could help her relax a little.

"Listen, Jessy, I understand if you become angry, but whatever happens, please let me explain everything.  You are free to go as soon as I finish, but you must first hear the entire story. Oh, and please, no matter how angry you are, don't tell anyone about this. At least not yet."

"You are scaring me.", she said, looking directly at you.

"I'm sorry, but it's really important. I trust you more than anyone else to keep this a secret, and I apologize for dragging you into the forest in the middle of the night for this."

The trees looked even higher than in daylight, which made everything more terrifying. You quickly understood that this was a horrible decision. What if Jake's brother is watching you right now, or worse, Jake himself was watching you? I mean, it's too late to turn around now, right? When Jessy tugged your arm, you knew you weren't alone any more.

"Um, Y/n, a person is standing near the hut. Could we perhaps turn around?" she said gently as she came to a halt.

You just realized now that you had been staring at the ground the entire time. You had already arrived? Not like you would have preferred a random encounter. At the very least, Richy was there before you. You knew him by his blue hoodie. He obviously wore it to let you know you didn't have to be scared.

"Yeah, I know. I invited him to come. Not only do I have to tell you something."

"So you know him?"

"Yes, and believe me, you know him too."

"I do? Wait, is this Jake? Did he make it out of the mine?"

"Yes, no, and yes. You should see him, otherwise you wouldn’t believe me."

"Hey," you said to Richy, unable to look at him or Jessy.

"Hey.", he nodded back.

Richy had his hood pulled up, but you could feel that Jessy recognized him, her body language told you that. Whether it was his voice, his physique, or the tips you provided her, she simply knew, .

"Jake wasn’t the only one to escape Ironsplitter."

Jessy just shook her head. She knew it, she just didn’t want it to be true. A few whispered words left her lips; you could only made out a quiet ‘No’ and an even quieter ‘Why?’.

Richy sighed and slowly took off his hood.

That was all the confirmation she needed. After a few seconds of looking at him, her expression shifted from afraid and horrified to angry and slightly disgusted. You couldn't respond, and Richy couldn't either, as she went forward and smacked him.

Richy grumbled and touched his cheek, "Yeah, I definitely earned that one."

"Why?" she just questioned again, this time louder.

You weren't sure if she was referring to you or Richy, or what she meant in general. Jessy just gazed daggers at her erstwhile best friend, who was at a loss for words. After a few seconds, her gaze shifted to you, and you avoided eye contact as well.

"How is he still alive? Did you know that the whole time? ", she asked.

"No, at least not the whole time. I found out back in the Aurora on my first day here. I promised not to tell anyone, but given recent circumstances, we decided it was time..."

"Tell me, please, Richy. Why did you do it? Hannah was one of your best friends, and you attacked me. I'd like an explanation. Now."

He nodded but remained silent for a moment.He probably wasn’t sure where to begin. You felt bad for him. He wanted you to tell them the whole story, but you couldn't, not so soon after his 'death.' Even if you weren't, it seemed like you were backstabbing him.

"You know about the accident ten years ago, right? Well, I gave Hannah the car so she could drive back to this stupid waterfall with Amy. I had drunk, so I couldn’t drive her and the car should be dismantled anyway."

"But they hit Jennifer. I already knew that, Y/n told me."

"Well, did she also told you that they came back to me? I helped them to bury her body. I buried that poor girl too, I knew about it the whole time."

Richy teared up a bit because of the memory. Seeing him like that broke your heart. You didn't want to draw too much attention to yourself, so instead of taking his full hand, you only interlocked your pinkies, as some sort of support.Jessy knew you had a thing for Richy before you found out what he did.  But you weren’t sure if she would still support your feelings at this point.

"Hannah got rid of the car and I destroyed every clue that it was ever in our possession. We never talked about this again until a few days before she disappeared. I wanted to confess everything, but Amy was afraid. I remembered Hannah talking about the men without a face. So, I thought that Amy would want to confess if she saw him too.", he continued, and gave you a thankful look.

"So, the man without a face wasn’t real until then?"

"No, Hannah imagined him because of her guilt. I informed myself about this legend. I never did anything to Amy. I just watched her through her window."

"He wanted to do the right thing, you know? He wanted them to confess together."

"If you count driving someone into suicide as doing the right thing. I was at the end of my nerves at that point. And then Hannah found a receipt which I lost on accident. When she would have shown it to the police, they would have had proof that the man without a face existed, I panicked and I didn’t see any other way."

"You kidnapped Hannah, because you were afraid? All this stuff, because you panicked?"

"Yes, dammit. I had a perfect plan for everything, so it would end harmlessly, but then Jake and Y/n came.", he sobbed, so you took over.

"Richy tried to kill himself, back in Ironsplitter. He thought he didn’t deserve to live after what he did.Jake rescued him. Jake was also the reason Richy was unable to go to the police. They may not have helped us, but they aren't naive enough to assume he could have survived alone, despite his injuries. They knew Jake was there, and so they would have known that he was alive too. He always intended to do the right thing; he simply did it in the wrong way. "

You did your best to hold your tears back, but when Jessy teared up too, you lost it. You were feeling lousy. Everything may have been okay if it hadn't been for Jake and you, or at least it wouldn't have ended that way for Richy. Jessy was the first to find her voice again and wiped her tears away.

"Dose anybody else know about this?", she asked.

"Not the full story, but Hannah and Phil know that they are alive.", you explained, and Jessys' expression turned angry once again.

"You told her and my brother but not me?"

"Hannah saw us when we left the mine, but we didn’t talk to her. We were fortunate that the FBI assumed we were already dead, so they stopped paying attention to the entry, but we couldn’t push our luck that much. As for Phil... I didn’t had much of a choice in this. It wasn’t him who received the picture of Y/n after the accident, it was me. I needed to find Y/n, so I asked him for help, because I recognized his car. I never told him anything, and I doubt he knows anything about Jake.  I only wanted to help Y/n.", he explained, taking your hand completely.

Jessy gave a nod. Her attention was drawn to your hands. You couldn't tell what she was thinking because she was emotionless, but you thought she didn't know either.

"But who sent the picture?", she asked more gently.

"It was an unknown number. I don’t even know how that guy got my number in the first place."

"I do.", you cut in, "When I put on my jacket earlier, I noticed that the piece of paper with your numbers on it disappeared. He took it after he dragged me out of the car. I probably should have thrown it away ages ago, but I just couldn’t. It felt wrong for some reason.", you scratched your neck in embarrassment. “But I figured out who it was."

"I still don’t think it was Jake Y/n. He is in love with you. He could never do this."

"Wait, it was Jake?", Jessy asked, confused.

"No, it wasn’t Jake. Turns out he has a twin brother.", you just blurred out the truth. They would find out eventually anyway.

"Wait what? I mean, that explains most of it, but why would his brother do this? He doesn't know you, and where did you get that information from, anyway?", Richy questioned.

"Jake told me. He snuck into my room after everyone had left. His brother wants to hurt him for what he did when they were young."

"He was in the hospital? That is way too dangerous for him. Someone could have seen him."

Richy was a bit shocked to hear that. He was right. It looks like you weren’t the only one risking your life for people that meant something to you.

"More importantly, why you? Hannah and Lilly are also important to him. You just met him on accident.", Jessy pointed out.

"He couldn’t hurt his sisters. That’s what Jake told me. Meeting you wasn’t a coincidence either. Do you two remember how you got my number?"

"Hannah sent it to Thomas.", Jessy shrugged as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"The only problem with this is that she was never able to get her phone and I didn’t send it either."

Jessys' look shifted to hatred for a brief moment as a result of Richys' choice of words, but she quickly realized that this was not impotent right now.

"That’s because Jake sent it. He set this up so his brother could hurt someone he didn’t care for."

"But he cares about you," Richy reminded you.

"Yeah, that the problem. He didn't want me to meet you because he was afraid of the man without a face, but because he was afraid of his brother, who wanted to kill me because of his mistakes.

"I'm very sorry, Y/n," he said, clutching your hand even harder.

"So, he just used you?"

"He wanted to, but I guess that he tries to fix everything. That's the reason why he is gone for now. I mean, he had risked his freedom to explain it to me."

You were interrupted by your phone, which made some weird noise. Richy and Jessy looked at you weirdly, but you just turned the sound down.

"Somebody is in my room.", you stopped Jessy and Richy from talking.

"We should cut this short then.", Jessy nodded.

"You're right, we have been here for quite some time. I will bring you back, at least to the edge of the forest. I can’t have someone else's brother hurting you two."

The walk back was agonizingly quiet. Richy held your hand the entire time, and you observed Jessy sometimes staring down at your linked hands. Nonetheless, she remained silent. The time flew by, probably because you felt more at ease with Richy around. Still not letting go of your hand, he turned around and looked at Jessy.

"Can I have a quick word with Y/n?", Richy asked.

Jessy hesitated, but eventually nodded.

"Yeah, but listen Richy, before I go, I understand your point of few, but that doesn't mean I forgive you... at least not now. I won't tell anybody about this because Y/n asked me to do so, but you can’t play dead for the rest of your life. You can’t run away from the consequences forever. Jennifer deserves this and so do Amy and Hannah. "

"I know and I will go to the police, but I want to make sure that Y/n is safe before I do that."

Jessy nodded and said a quick goodbye to Richy before she started to walk away. She would surely wait for you to ensure that you returned to the hospital, but she also wanted to give you some space.

"What’s wrong?", you asked after you were sure Jessy couldn't hear you anymore.

"I know Jake is in love with you... and I am as well."

"Richy, I-"

"I know. You have other problems right now, and I should too, but do you know the worst part?", Richy paused for a few seconds and looked away from you. "I like Jake as well."

You smiled slightly. "Yeah, I figured that by now. You looked close the few times I saw you stalking me. Did you tell him?"

"No, I only realized it after he disappeared. I mean, he was there for me when I needed him, even though he despised me. I'm not sure how he thinks about me; I'm sure he still hates me for everything."

"Yeah, I know what you mean, but he doesn't hate you. Did you never question his decision to disappear? His brother wants to hurt the people he loves the most. He wants to protect you as much as he wants to protect me." You smiled sadly and took his other hand as well.

"Can I kiss you?"

You were shocked for a second. Didn’t he just confess his feelings for Jake? He realized that what he said sounded weird, so he added an explanation.

"I know it sounds crazy, but Jake vanished, and you could have died just a few days ago. I just want to know how it feels to kiss someone like you - someone I would die for - because with everything going on right now, I’m afraid I will never have the chance to do so."

"All right," you said quietly.

You related to his feelings. Jake was gone for who knows how long, and his brother wants to kill you and perhaps Richy as well. What if this is your one and only chance to kiss each other? He's gone through a lot, and so have you. He needs this and you do too.

Richy let go of one of your hands to gently grab your chin. He looked deep into your eyes and searched for any kind of remorse before he leaned down to kiss you.

The kiss was unlike any you'd ever experienced. It was a quick and light kiss. And it wasn't like the 'fireworks' that everyone speaks about; it was more like a cool breeze on a hot summer day. When Richy drew away, he grinned at you, and you smiled back.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this," he said quietly.

"We need to talk to Jake when we find him. Everything is going to be fine in the end, and if it's not fine, it’s not the end."

Richy nodded. He kissed your forehead quickly before disappearing into the darkness of the forest, still beaming like an idiot. You weren't any different, and Jessy couldn't help but smile too, when you two met up. She was happy that you were happy, even after everything that happened.

"You really like them, don’t you?.", she laughed.

"Maybe."

You felt like fourteen again when you giggled after that. All your worries were forgotten for a few seconds, until one thought entered your mind again.

"But I have a bigger problem than Jake and Richy for now."

"And that would be?"

"It was difficult to get out of the room, but getting back in will be far more tricky. I mean, did you ever climb with a dislocated shoulder?"

Jessy gave a hesitant laugh.

"Jokes aside, I still have a bigger worry. Do you remember the person in my room? If it had been a nurse, she would have asked if everything was okay, but the person never said anything.

"Why haven’t you said anything sooner? Richy could have come with us."

"No, it would be too dangerous for him. I mean, what if I’m wrong."

"Can you text Jake?"

"I don’t know if he will answer, because I was so mad at him, but I will try. You shouldn’t worry and get home. If I can’t reach him, I will ask Richy, alright?"

You lied. You wouldn't tell this Richy under any circumstances, but Jessy believed you anyway and went home. Still, you texted Jake and asked him if he came back. Surprisingly, he answered just seconds later, that he didn’t. Maybe it was really just a nurse and you were just paranoid after the accident.

When you walked in, your room was dark and just as you left it... until you unlocked the bathroom door. Jake stood there holding your phone, looking like a mother waiting for her child after it sneaked out.

The only problem was that it wasn’t Jake, as you thought at first. A little mole under his right eye gave it away.

"I wouldn't scream and hand over your second phone if I were you," he insisted.

You did as he asked. Just because you couldn’t see any weapons on him right now doesn't mean he was unarmed. You could scream later too. It was a hospital, after all.

You were also curious about what he wanted. If he wanted to kill you, he would have done it right away. 

"Good girl. I have to say, you impressed me, Y/n. Nobody really did this before, so you deserved a price. Let’s talk. I want to know more about you before I kill you."

[cheesybadgers]

Narcos Fic: Old Habits Die Hard (Chap. 12)

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 13, Chapter 14, Chapter 15, Chapter 16, Chapter 17, Chapter 18, Chapter 19, Chapter 20, Chapter 21, Chapter 22, Chapter 23, Chapter 24

Read on AO3

Masterlist

Pairing: Javier Peña x Horacio Carrillo

Words: 6,162

Summary: Following Javier’s phone call, a plan is hatched to move Horacio to safety. 

Warnings: 18+ ONLY. Non-graphic references to injuries/pain, discussions of sexuality and coming out, discussions of parental loss and grief, swearing, some angst (but also lots of softness, with more still to come 🥺).   

Notes: I cannot tell you the relief to finally have this chapter done, phew! I don’t know if it’s because I’ve had this part of the plot in my head for nearly a year now and had to do quite a bit of research for it, but it was a tricky chapter that needed wrestling to the ground on several occasions 😂 Thank you so much to anyone still reading/commenting. The comments I’ve had since starting this fic a whole year ago have turned me into a grinning idiot and I love hearing what people think, so please feel free to come and chat either on Tumblr or AO3 😊 Chapter 13 is already in progress, so let’s see if it gives me an easier time lol. 

Whilst obviously I do not own Narcos or its characters, please do not copy, re-post, or plagiarize this fic in any capacity on this or other platforms. If you wish to create any fan works inspired by it, please provide a credit or send me a message if in doubt.

Chapter 12: Breathing Space

By the time Javier returned to Horacio’s bedside, Trujillo had been called away on Search Bloc business, and Steve was on a coffee run. A fact that made Javier wish he’d had the foresight to brew a fresh pot on his way back, given the usual quality of his partner’s attempts.

“No.”

To be fair, that was the response Javier had been expecting. “At least think about it for a minute.”

“I did, and my answer is still no.”

“Well, what’s the alternative?”

“I don’t know, but there has to be something.”

“You know there isn’t.”

“I can’t risk putting your family in danger, Javier.”

Our, Javier automatically – and much to his relief, silently – corrected. “You really think they’d try anything over the border?” He stopped short of mentioning extradition, not wanting to re-open that particular can of worms. Even if he remained confident that most narcos would do just about anything to avoid jail time northward of the Rio Grande. “As far as they’re concerned, there’s no reason to suspect you’d be in Laredo. It’s our safest option. Plus, I’d be coming with you.” He casually dropped that nugget of information; optimistic he’d saved his winning move for last.

“What?”

“No point sticking around here watching from the fucking side-lines whilst these heal.” He looked down towards his torso. “And whilst the ink dries on our visa revocations,” he added with a scoff.

“Won’t Messina and your other bosses have something to say about all of this?”

“What? About me visiting my old man whilst suspended from work? I wasn’t planning on clueing them in on the rest, funnily enough.” Not that Javier imagined they’d be losing much sleep over Horacio’s whereabouts. In their eyes, he was the Colombians’ problem. The DEA had been eager for Javier and Steve to distance themselves from him long before the ambush. And now a more palatable replacement was set to take over, they would most likely think of it as a savvy PR move.

Horacio sighed, unsure if he was more irritated by such a persuasive argument or the speed at which his resolve crumbled once Javier had played the ultimate ace. “Did you tell your father everything?”

Although they’d never spoken much of their family histories or the parallels between their lives, Horacio knew it was just Javier’s dad back in Texas. A thought that made him thankful his own mother at least had his sister’s family for company in Colombia. Not that they were any wiser about his and Javier’s relationship.

It wasn’t the sort of development you put in a letter or mentioned during a brief phone call. It had been hard enough explaining his redeployment to Madrid and the events of the last 24 hours. They were aware he was taking time off to recover from his injury at a classified location but were in the dark beyond that for their own safety. And Horacio couldn’t deny it had the added benefit of making his life easier for the time being.

“Yeah. Well, everything he needs to know.”

“Right.” Just as Horacio thought, then. “Are you okay with that?”

“Well, I could hardly tell him the rest over the fucking phone, could I?”

“I know, but are you prepared for him asking questions?”

“It’s gonna happen sooner or later, right?” The uncertainty was as plain on Javier’s face as it was in his words. This was new territory and, up until Horacio, he’d never envisaged the need for such conversations.

Horacio’s hand slid across the bedsheet and found its way into Javier’s, instinctively slotting their fingers together with gentle ease, like it was as natural as breathing. “Only if you’re ready.”

Javier met Horacio’s gaze with the crooked curl of his lips and a soft exhale through his nose. It was the only response he could muster to what seemed like an unfathomable concept. What did ready even mean, anyway? Was anyone ever really ready for this? Had he been ready for half of the shit that had happened in the last few years?

Instead of spiralling any further down that road, he lifted their intertwined hands to his mouth, nudging the scratch of his moustache back and forth along Horacio’s knuckles. “Let’s just get you there in one piece first.” An undertaking kissed into his skin, settling their shared apprehension, even if temporarily.

------------------------------------------------------

It had taken the calling in of several longstanding favours with the Colombian Military – particularly the current Air Force General with whom Horacio had shared off the record intel and several glasses of whiskey – to agree to transport Horacio as far as an airbase just outside San Antonio. From there, they’d need to pick up a vehicle to get them to Laredo.

News of the ambush would travel fast amongst those with vested interests in bringing down Escobar. But since the beginning of the war on drugs, the Colombians had regularly used American training facilities during manoeuvres. Providing details of the plan were strictly on a need-to-know-basis amongst those they could trust, and they didn’t linger upon arrival at the airbase, they were unlikely to attract suspicion from their U.S. counterparts. Or from any personnel who were no more immune to corruption than the CNP.

The main outstanding issue was moving Horacio in his current condition, given he shouldn’t have even left the hospital yet, never mind be flying anywhere. Nor could they risk drawing attention to themselves by using medical facilities once they were in the states.

“What about medical staff from here? Can they spare anyone to tag along?” Javier queried once Steve and Trujillo had returned, running his thumb across his top lip whilst he subconsciously paced around the perimeter of Horacio’s bed.

“Probably not with the number of injuries sustained in the ambush. They’re gonna be run off their feet over the next few days.” Trujillo exchanged a look with Javier from across the room, where he leaned against the wall with his arms crossed. Few knew better than him what an occupational hazard working for the CNP was in Escobar’s Colombia. And this was just another in a long list of atrocities.

“Wait a minute – one nurse would be enough, right?” Steve asked, suddenly sitting up from the lazy, feline recline he’d adopted in a plastic chair that was too low to the ground for a man of his height.

“Steve, no. You can’t ask her.” Javier had stopped pacing, although not before getting a step ahead of his partner.

“But she wants to help. She was going stir crazy in Miami, and her sister’s willing to have Olivia for a bit longer. If we both tagged along, we could head back home once Carrillo’s on the mend. Beats sittin’ round here whilst we’re out of action.”

“I can’t ask you to drag Connie into this. You’ve already done enough. We’ll figure something out.”

“Javi, for fuck’s sake, let us help!” The exasperation was evident in Steve’s raised tone and the deep sigh he heaved as his head dropped into his hands. He continued after a pause of awkward silence; his voice more measured this time. “You don’t always have to do everything alone. You know she’s a damn good nurse. He’d be in safe hands, I promise.”

The notion that he didn’t have faith in Connie’s ability as a nurse triggered a wave of guilt to wash over Javier. That wasn't what his reservations were about at all. No, it was his track record of hurting those he cared about that was playing on his mind. But setting his own feelings to one side for a second, he had to admit Connie was the ideal person for the job.

He worked his jaw back and forth several times, mulling over Steve’s proposal and turning to Horacio for reassurance or permission; he wasn’t sure which. A vague nod that could have been either – or both – was enough to make Javier finally accept defeat, though. “Okay, fine. If you’re sure she’s willing, let’s do it.”

------------------------------------------------------

Now that the details were agreed and time was of the essence, the wheels were swiftly set in motion. Horacio, Javier and Steve were to board a helicopter to the Colombian Military base in Bogotá where they were meeting Connie. And from there, they would fly onwards to San Antonio.

Whilst the pilot carried out pre-flight checks and, Javier and Steve fetched supplies for the journey, Trujillo ensured Horacio’s stretcher was secured in place in the helicopter. “I think you’re all good to go now, Colonel.”

“Thank you, Trujillo.” He hesitated for a moment, adjusting himself on the stiff canvas evidently built more for practicality than comfort. “Have the families been contacted yet?” Of course, he had to ask. It had been weighing heavy on his mind since he’d woken up, perhaps a force of habit seen as it was a job that usually fell under his remit.

“Yes, Colonel. There’s to be a memorial service next week once – once your replacement has arrived.”

The thought of not being able to pay his respects to the men he’d lost on his watch – those he had failed to protect – was as painful a blow as the wound on Horacio’s shoulder. Even though he accepted he had no choice, it still felt cowardly and selfish to be running away and hiding like this. It went against his natural instincts when so many others never even had the option. “Right, of course. Any more news on Martínez?”

“Just that it looks like Gaviria is going to try talk him into it.” Trujillo’s gaze had dropped to the floor at the mention of a replacement, and he was now studying the scuffed toe of his boot with great interest.

Horacio gave a wry smile. “I’m sure he’ll find a way. Martínez won’t be what you’re all used to, but he’s good at what he does.”

“Do you think it’ll be enough, Colonel?”

“I don’t know. It never was before. It’s possible someone else might attempt to fill the gap, though. We’re not Pablo’s only enemies. So, just be careful and keep yourself safe.”

“Yes, Colonel. But if I get a shot at him, make no mistake, I’m taking it.” He raised his head, his eyes now meeting Horacio’s head-on with steely determination.

Horacio couldn’t and didn’t want to argue with that, so he gave a swift, firm nod of approval.

A shout from the ground indicated they were about ready to depart. “I think that’s my cue to leave.”

“Before you go…” Horacio trailed off, unsure how to phrase what he was about to say or why he felt the need to say it at all.

“Yes, Colonel?”

“Javier. If he ends up back here, and things get rough…”

“I’ll keep an eye on him. You have my word.”

“Thank you, Trujillo. And don’t be a stranger.”

“Don’t worry, the drinks are on you once you’re back on your feet, and this is all over.” Trujillo threw a smirk over his shoulder as he climbed out of the chopper.

Even as he walked away, Trujillo didn’t miss the huff of a chuckle from Horacio despite himself and something that sounded very much like Cheeky fucker muttered under his breath.

------------------------------------------------------

Their arrival in San Antonio passed without incident, and a car was ready and waiting for them as expected. Steve offered to take on driving duties, with Connie sitting upfront, leaving Javier and Horacio to rest in the back.

So far, Horacio had remained stable but drowsy from regular doses of pain relief. Although, now that his last dosage had worn off and he was forced to sit upright, a dull throb had taken hold in his shoulder. With nothing to be done until Laredo, he settled for deep breaths and the soothing touch of Javier’s fingers over his left hand; the tightening of his grip the only obvious tell of his discomfort.

Javier wasn’t faring much better with exhaustion and the added pressure of a seat belt resting over his tender ribs. But he was trying to stay awake just in case he was needed for navigation purposes once they neared Laredo. It had been a long time since he had driven on these roads, but as the hours passed, his muscle memory kicked in.

Mile after mile of endless farmland whizzed by as they sped along the highway. In the height of summer, the ground was arid and sun-scorched, but the heavy rainfall from the last couple of months had quenched the soil and left a carpet of green in its wake. After years spent in the cooler Bogotá climate, Javier was glad his return here came in November. It would make for more comfortable nights, which was an appealing prospect when all he wanted to do was lie down – preferably with Horacio – and rest for the foreseeable.

Despite his best efforts, he could feel his head beginning to nod and his eyes starting to droop. They passed a diner where he celebrated his eighth and ninth birthdays, and apart from a fresh lick of paint, it didn’t look any different. That was always the discombobulating part of being back here. It was frozen in time in so many ways, yet, everything around it had fundamentally changed, including Javier himself.

He wasn't sure if it was the quiet murmur of chatter between Steve and Connie mixed with the lull of Spanish voices on the radio that reminded him of long car journeys with his parents. Or perhaps it was just recent events catching up with him. But his head slumped against the window, and his eyelids finally gave way to slumber.

------------------------------------------------------

It was late into the evening when they pulled up in front of the large steel gates drawn closed at the foot of the ranch. Once Steve cut the engine, it became clear why they were shut when a cacophony of barking could be heard instead.

Javier went ahead of the others, the cool night air shocking his senses awake again after his accidental nap. He slipped behind the gate, the barks of alarm mellowing into whines of recognition as he greeted the furry welcoming party like the old friends they were. He hadn’t been back in far too long, but it was oddly reassuring to know he wasn’t forgotten by those whose unwavering loyalty meant they would never judge him.

Not being able to crouch to the ground made it trickier than usual to extract himself from the excitable clambering of paws and warm, sloppy licks to his hands. But the dogs seemed to pick up on his stiff body language and soon backed off. Or maybe they’d sensed the familiar presence appear behind them in the shadow of the floodlight that had flicked on at the sudden movement.

Javier’s attention was drawn away from the dogs to the shadow. “Hey, Pops.”

“Javi.” They both moved in for a hug, forgetting Javier’s injury for a second, but compromised instead with a handshake and light pats on the back. “How was the journey? Everything go to plan?”

“Long, tiring. But yeah. Yeah, it did.”

“Good. You look like you need a drink, though.”

Javier couldn’t take offence at that, as even in this limited light, he knew he must have looked like shit. “Wouldn’t say no to one.”

“Well, let’s get your friends in first, then we’ll see what we can do.” Chucho was already peering curiously at the car parked on the other side of the gate before stepping past Javier and hooking it back to let Steve drive through.

A winding dirt track led up to a small complex of buildings with a courtyard in between the main farmhouse and two adjoined guesthouses that were sometimes rented out by holidaymakers or used by seasonal workers during busy periods on the ranch. Luckily, they had been sat empty for the last couple of months due to a particularly heavy spell of rainfall and storms, plus a last-minute cancellation or two.

Once Steve had parked up, Chucho was waiting to greet them.

“Dad, this is Steve Murphy – my partner – and his wife, Connie. Guys, this is Chucho.”

Chucho held out his hand to each of them in turn. “Pleasure to meet you both at long last.”

“Likewise. Impressive place you’ve got here,” Steve observed, nodding emphatically with approval as his gaze danced around the complex.

The canine welcoming committee had returned and latched themselves onto Connie, who was knelt on the floor as they fussed around her. “It really is, and these guys are adorable!”

“Thank you. These two are Sol and Leo.” Chucho pointed to two black and white Border Collies who were currently playfighting at Connie’s feet in a battle for her attention. “And this one is Luna.” This time he gestured to a majestic looking Great Pyrenees with a white and grey mixed coat. She hung back more than Sol and Leo, but still sniffed at Connie’s hand with great interest. “She’s a tougher nut to crack than the others, but she seems to like you.”

Meanwhile, Javier did his best to help Horacio out of the car. Although the pointed look directed his way suggested Horacio didn’t appreciate the assistance in the circumstances and was determined to push himself upwards with a stifled groan instead.

No sooner had Horacio extracted himself from the car, than Chucho’s attention shifted in his direction. “And I take it this must be Horacio?”

“Erm yeah, that’s right, Pops.” Javier’s mouth was suddenly devoid of all moisture and he couldn’t quite meet his father’s eye. He quickly cleared his throat, desperate to get a fucking grip of himself before anyone noticed his awkwardness. “Horacio, this is my dad, Chucho.”

“Pleased to meet you, Señor Peña.” Despite his less-than-graceful entrance, it was as though a switch flicked in a matter of seconds. Horacio confidently held out his left hand and grasped Chucho’s with the same professionalism he had done when meeting the likes of Gaviria for the first time. “And thank you – for everything. I’m sorry to intrude like this.” He was doing much better than Javier so far, it seemed.

“Please, call me Chucho. And well, it’s one way to get my son to visit me, at least,” he quipped, making a point of side-eyeing Javier. “Let’s get you more comfortable and find you something to eat. You all must be starving.”

------------------------------------------------------

Officially, Steve and Connie took one of the guesthouses, whilst Horacio took the other, leaving Javier to become reacquainted with his old bedroom in the main farmhouse. It gave everyone their own space, plus Connie and her medical supplies were close by for Horacio whenever required.

Unofficially, of course, Javier had other ideas. He waited until Chucho had passed around hearty bowls of homemade sopa de fideo. After making large batches for the ranch staff – particularly in the colder months – it had become his speciality dish. 

Everyone had been quick to disperse to bed once sleeping arrangements were agreed, so when the coast was clear, Javier discreetly made his way across the courtyard. If it wasn't for his ribs, he would have laughed at the absurdity of sneaking around like this, especially at his age, but then again, needs must. For now, at least.

The guesthouses, much like the main farmhouse, were a mix of limestone and wooden beams, and with it being a working ranch, the interior erred towards the rustic. Each property had a master bedroom with a double bed, plus an additional bunk room and bathroom. Paintings of the local landscape and photos of prize-winning cattle and horses reared on the ranch adorned the walls, along with a trademark set of horns hung over the fireplace in the centre of a combined living/kitchen area. Javier had often rolled his eyes at how clichéd the whole thing was, but it was the authentic experience tourists signed up for.

By the time Javier arrived, Connie had given Horacio more pain relief and attached an antibiotic drip as a precaution. Horacio was already dozing in bed, elevated by a stack of pillows, but soon stirred once he felt the mattress dip next to him.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you.”

“No, it’s fine. I did try stay awake.” Horacio’s voice was fuzzy with fatigue, but he was determined to finish the conversation before fully giving into it.

“You need to rest. Don’t worry about anything else right now, okay?” It was awkward given their injuries, but Javier did his best to lean against Horacio’s left shoulder. He placed a kiss to Horacio’s temple and ran the pad of his thumb in soothing circles where their hands joined under the duvet. As he relaxed into the solid warmth next to him, he let out a long sigh he was pretty sure he’d been holding in since they had left Carlos Holguín.

“Well, you did it.” Horacio tilted his head to the left, connecting with Javier’s. He’d never wanted to wrap himself so thoroughly around someone, but that would have to wait for another day and this would have to suffice for now.

“I think you’ll find it was a team effort. Although now you mention it, it was my idea.” A weary smirk crossed Javier's face, but his eyes stayed closed as he decompressed and digested the events of the last couple of days.

“Of course. You never told me that charm of yours was a family trait.”

“You never asked.” There it was again, only this time accompanied by the teasing scratch of facial hair against Horacio’s neck. “Oh, and speaking of, Señor Peña?”

“What’s wrong with that? I’d just met the guy!” Despite the incredulity that had sprung into Horacio’s voice, he didn’t have the energy to lift his head from its resting spot against Javier’s.

“Nothing, it’s just you’re so fucking formal.”

“Am I?”

“You’re the only person to exclusively call me Javier since I was at school, for a start.”

“What can I say? You’ve always felt more like a Javier than a Javi to me.”

“Never said it was a bad thing.”

That was the last comment either of them remembered the other saying as they succumbed to the rest their bodies and minds had been crying out for. Not just since the ambush, but for weeks, months, years. It was a cumulative burnout catching up with them, one that couldn’t possibly be fixed in a night, a week or even a month, but it was a start.

------------------------------------------------------

Javier couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept in his childhood bedroom. Even prior to moving away for work, he’d taken up residence in one of the guesthouses. Which was where he’d snuck out unnoticed at the first sign of sunrise that morning, reluctantly leaving Horacio fast asleep in favour of avoiding questions he wasn’t ready to answer yet. He always figured it was close enough to nip across the yard to the main farmhouse for food and drink supplies when his own stash ran dry. But far enough away so his dad couldn’t hear what he got up to with anyone he invited home with him.

Early dawn light trickled through the curtains and drew Javier’s eye to the sun-faded snapshots of his past that whispered like ghosts from the corner of the room. His graduation certificate sat alongside an old family photo taken at a cousin’s quinceañera. Rounding everyone up to pose for it in the first place had been a challenge, not helped by him and several other children hiding in the stables passing round a bottle of tequila. A couple of swigs was all it took for Javier to turn green and lose the contents of his stomach in the horses’ feeding trough, much to the delight of his cousins. To this day, they still relished in recounting every detail of that story whenever their paths crossed.

He also remembered that day well, as it was one of the last few pictures taken of his mother. Of course, you couldn’t tell from the photo, as she tried to hide her illness as much as possible, even when everyone knew. They all went to great lengths not to talk about it when Javier was present too, but he was a child; he wasn’t stupid. He picked up on all of the hushed conversations. The tears wiped hastily away on the backs of hands or sleeves, and the sad, pitying smiles from older relatives who already viewed him as a half-orphan. He learnt more about human behaviour and reading body language in that period of his life than any Psychology or Sociology course could ever have taught him.

A knock roused him from his thoughts, a welcome relief to what was rapidly turning into a painful walk down memory lane. “Come in.” His vocal cords were still thick with sleep and long overdue their first caffeine fix of the day.

Almost as though he had read his son’s mind, the door opened with a creak to reveal Chucho armed with a large mug and already dressed for work, Stetson included. The restorative aroma of coffee quickly drifted into the bedroom, and there was something strangely nostalgic to Javier about the situation.

“Did you manage to sleep okay?” Chucho asked as he perched on the edge of the bed and handed the mug to Javier once he’d propped himself up against the headboard with a wince and a grunt.

“Yeah, I did, thanks.” Javier immediately took a sip despite it being far too hot to drink yet. A much easier alternative than elaborating on the main reason for his good night’s sleep.

“You never could wait for it to cool down. Even when you were small, and your mother warned you not to burn yourself, you wouldn’t listen.”

Javier huffed faintly, sending a trail of steam across the rim of the mug held up to his mouth. “I remember. But I’m a big boy now, Pops. I think I can manage.”

“Are you sure about that, Mijo?”

It was far too early for riddles and metaphors. So, Javier rolled his eyes and continued to make his way through his drink until Chucho was forced to change the subject.

“I need to tend to the horses and run a few errands in town. I take it you’ll all be alright without me for a few hours?”

“Yeah, sure, do whatever you need to do. Have you, er, seen any of the others yet this morning?” Javier aimed for casual curiosity but was quite sure he missed the mark.

“Connie’s in the kitchen. She was taking some coffee to Steve and had just checked on Horacio, who apparently had a good night by all accounts. He’s lucky to have friends like you. To do all of this for him. Not many would.”

“Glad to hear it. And er, yeah, well, he’d do the same for me.” Javier hid behind his mug once again, fearing he’d said too much and given himself away even with such a short sentence. He hoped the gulping noise he made as he swallowed wasn’t as loud as it sounded in his head. Although to be on the safe side, he ploughed on in a bid to cover it up. “Listen, I, er, just wanted to say thank you. For letting us all stay here like this.”

“You’re my son, Javi. You’ll always have a home here.” Chucho stood up from the bed and softly squeezed Javier’s shoulder before making his exit to give the horses their morning feed. An air of unanswered questions lingered between them. But if anyone knew when to back off and let Javier exercise his right to remain silent, it was Chucho.

Javier wondered if that sentiment would remain true if Chucho knew the whole truth. It was one thing to suspect your teenage son of experimenting with his best friend when they were little more than raging hormone bombs. But it was quite another to be introduced to the man your adult son was in a serious relationship with. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to reveal the latter just yet, or if he ever would be.

He downed the dregs of his coffee and made his way to the bathroom, every sharp movement still requiring slow, deep breaths. As expected, the bruising was even angrier now, and the jets of water from the shower faucet were like pinpricks to his chest. Once dressed, he headed for the kitchen to find Connie still at the table making a fresh pot of coffee.

“Oh hey, you’re up. Want another?” Connie gestured to the empty mug in Javier’s hand.

“Morning. And very much so, thanks,” Javier replied, holding out his cup to be refilled. “Steve still in bed?” Like he even needed to ask given the number of times he’d left his partner snoring away in his bunk back at Carlos Holguín.

“How ever did you guess? I think the drive took it out of him. How you feeling anyway? Were you able to get any sleep?”

“I’m alright, better for those painkillers you gave me, so thanks for that. And yeah, I went out like a light for a change. How’s—is he—have you—” Whatever he was aiming for, it certainly wasn’t that.

“He’s doing okay,” Connie cut in, her eyes softening further as she understood what Javier was attempting to ask. “I changed his dressing about an hour ago. I’m not sure he knew I was there as he was still asleep, but everything looks as it should at this stage. And don’t worry about the fatigue; it’s perfectly normal post-surgery. Even more so when you’ve just flown a few thousand miles against medical advice.” She couldn’t resist a stern look at Javier. Although there was no real annoyance in her scolding.

“Thanks, Connie. And thanks for coming here. You and Steve really didn’t have to do all this.”

“I’m here because I want to be, Javi, and so is Steve. After everything you did for him when he was…well, you know. It’s the least we can do.” Now it was Connie’s turn to hesitate. “He, er, told me what happened. I swear I didn’t tell him anything. We both just figured it out separately.”

Javier nodded as he got his head around the abrupt change of subject, working his way through his second coffee much like the first. “How did you know?”

“I didn’t know for sure until the day Steve went missing. But I’d had a hunch for a while. There were a few things he said during his petty rants about the two of you going off without him. Of course, he thought it was all about how you obviously didn’t trust him,” she laughed with a roll of her eyes, “but it never added up to me. And then, do you remember that Embassy Christmas dinner a few years back?”

“Vaguely. I think Steve and I handled being forced to attend by making good use of the free bar.”

“That’s the one, and oh, you absolutely did. You could barely walk by the end of the night. I was about ready to leave you both there to sober up when along came my Knight in shining armour. Well, Colonel in dress uniform anyway.” Connie couldn’t resist a wink now she was in full flow of her story.

“What?”

“You don’t remember? He offered to drive us all home and helped you into your apartment.”

“No, I don’t remember that at all.” Horacio always hated those bullshit functions, so Javier was surprised he even turned up in the first place. “Fuck, I really must have been drunk.” As he laughed, a warmth spread through him at being given a new piece of his and Horacio’s history that he hadn’t even been aware of. History that happened long before Tolú yet made complete sense in hindsight.

“Oh, you were. I don’t think I saw Steve until late afternoon the day after. But yeah, there was always something about you two.”

“Did Steve – did he say anything? When he found out you knew, I mean.”

“I think his pride was a little wounded because Mr Big Shot DEA Agent didn’t work it out before his wife.” She paused to allow them both a moment to indulge in a shared joke at the expense of her husband. “But other than that, not really. He cares about you, Javi. We both do. We just want you to be happy.” She took a long sip of her coffee and placed the mug back down. “And I’m sure your dad wants the same thing too.”

Javier wasn’t sure what to say to that. But luckily for him, Connie clocked the flashes of panic in his eyes at the mention of his father. She reached across the table and lightly squeezed his hand with her own, allowing him to reciprocate in a silent gesture of thanks instead.

------------------------------------------------------

It was mid-afternoon by the time Horacio woke. His bleary eyes squinted at the low sun clinging to the edges of the sky and curtains, along with a thick layer of dust that exposed how unused the place had been lately.

He needed a moment to notice Javier lying next to him, a lazy curve of the lips taking hold as they drank each other in.

“Hey,” Horacio rasped. He was still groggy and grateful for the glass of water held out for him to sip from as he slowly came round.

“Hey yourself, Sleeping Beauty.” It raised a huff of amusement from them both, although there was undeniable beauty in witnessing Horacio like this. In how relaxed his jaw and facial muscles were for a change. In the way his long lashes delicately fluttered like a butterfly’s wings whenever he stirred. In the steady rise and fall of his broad chest, as predictable as the tide drifting in and out. Waves gently lapping around them for once rather than submerging and drowning, reminding Javier how peaceful sleep was supposed to be.

“What time is it?”

“Just after two.”

“Shit. You should’ve woken me.”

“Why, you got somewhere to be?”

“Very funny. I just don’t like sleeping through the day, that’s all.” It wasn’t something Horacio had ever indulged in, even throughout his teenage years. There hadn’t been much opportunity for lounging in bed on weekends, with Sundays reserved almost exclusively for church and family gatherings. Whilst Saturdays were often spent shadowing his father. Whether it was learning maintenance skills around the house, or being taken to his workplace to be given a “head start”; Horacio had a strong work ethic instilled in him from an early age.

“I think it might be allowed when you’re recovering from major surgery. How you feeling?”

“Annoyingly exhausted despite how much I’ve slept.”

“Connie said that’s normal after surgery, so nothing to worry about. You should eat and drink something to keep your strength up, though. There’s plenty of leftovers from last night.”

“Sounds good, thanks.”

“Pops has taken the others on a guided tour.” Javier gave an affectionate roll of his eyes at the thought of Chucho in his element. By the end of it, his friends would know their Quarter Horses from their Arabians. And their Santa Gertrudis from their Brahmans, whether they wanted to or not. Even once it became clear Javier wasn’t likely to follow in his father’s footsteps, these were facts still embedded deep in his long-term memory. “But Connie will be dropping by later to check up on you.”

“Right.” It didn’t take long for the tension to re-emerge on Horacio’s face now he was awake. A shift that didn’t go unnoticed by Javier.

“What is it?”

“What you’re all doing for me, it’s…beyond what I deserve. I don’t want to be a burden on anyone, Javier.”

“Hey, come on, you know it’s not like that. You had no choice but to leave.” With laboured effort, Javier shifted closer to Horacio and leaned over him as carefully as he could manage. “So, this isn’t about being a burden.” He broke off to place slow, tender kisses on his lips and forehead. “It’s about keeping you alive,” he finished, nuzzling their noses together like a pair of purring cats.

It was another half an hour before they finally left the bed in search of food. Not that either man was in a fit state for anything physical beyond kissing at the moment. A fact that infuriated and frustrated them almost as much as the injuries themselves. But being alone together like this, with time and space to heal, to catch their breath and to close their eyes each night without the imminent threat of violence on the horizon, was more than enough for now. Despite the horror that had led them here, their newfound respite was a luxury to be savoured and they fully intended to make the most of it whilst they had the chance.

[arty-shadow-morningstar]

A Failed Betrothal /Betrothal AU: Take Two

So here is the second part of the betrothal AU that I decided to name "A Failed Betrothal. This takes place before Part 1 which in hindsight should have been done first. Part 2 got too long so I cut it and started Part 3. I have no idea and nothing planned on how long this will go. Hope you enjoy ❤.

[Masterlist]

(Part 1)

PART 2

Marinette also wasn't having a good day or a good week.

Lila Rossi had been up to her usual tricks. You know, spewing lies from her mouth. How she met these awesome celebrities during this trip and they worship the ground she walks on for her amazing and humbling help. There were stories of these charities, trips and galas that she had been to or was invited to. She has problems with her wrists and can't do simple stuff like carry her own bag or do her homework. She has tinnitus in her ears so she needs to sit in the front where the only seat available would be next to Adrien.

And for the finale.

The desert after feeding the class a banquet of lies.

"Mari...nette..has been bullying me, she...told..me not to tell anyone..*sobs*..that she would kill me if I did.."

Lila dramatically gasped and slapped her hands over her mouth. Turning on the waterworks for a more dramatic effect. They all ate it up, jumping on the ‘let’s hate Marinette, a bad person’ train.

"She is going to kill me now and I am so scared." That snake managed to snuck an evil smirk past her glaring, oblivious classmates.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Marinette, at this point of her life, had frankly given up caring for them due to the class's lack of brain cells and Agreste's spineless 'High Road' Approach.

For Kwami's sake, she went through a brutal torture that was training in some jungle temple in Asia before Sabine Cheng, former mercenary/assassin, kidnapped her (Little Marinette took a risk. She ran away and followed her around until Sabine begrudgingly accepted that she was now the 6- year-old girl's mother because screw it, Tom said he wanted children.) to raise/train as her own while she settled down with a baker whose mother may or may not have ties with the Mafia and other illegal activities.

(Mother-daughter bonding days became much more fun once she had Guardianship of the Miraculous. Sabine was ,at first, furious at Master Fu for dumping everything on the girl and losing his memories before swearing to help protect the jewels. Adopted or not, Marinette is her daughter and no one should let a child, even one with training, fight a war. A good thing to come out of her reveal was that her mother was a great tiger to have as back-up. But now, her training regime had become harder and challenging.)

The point was that Lila Rossi would be dead and body missing since that first time she threatened Marinette in the bathroom. The Italian was in perfect health despite what she claims otherwise, because Marinette didn’t want to be the person she was raised to be and also she didn’t want to disappoint Tikki, she was fond of the little red kwami. But sometimes, she just wanted to give into the urge to kill.

She had met and dealt with unsavory characters of all types and she can safely say that Lila Rossi was a manipulator that thrives on attention and like a parasite, latches herself onto the fame of others. None of the unsavory people she had met get under her skin like Rossi had.

Marinette had enough self-preservation to drop the nice girl act and sometimes let the dragon underneath to surface. She stopped doing last-minute favors and giving away free stuff which Lila uses to her full advantage to further destroy her relationships with her ‘friends’. It was better than sticking her neck out for classmates that were no longer worth her time. Attempts to expose Lila had backfired due to the denial they are in, believing the liar to be a sweet, nice girl living the high life.

Adrien with his rose-tinted glasses firmly stuck to his eyes was not happy at all with her decision. That may also have to do where she suggested he shove his advice after he tried to reason her to take the high road for defending herself for the umpteenth time. She felt like the biggest idiot to ever have a crush on him. Every time, Rossi blames Marinette for a problem, he would shoot disappointed looks in her direction.

Alya being Lila's biggest guard dog tore into Marinette for her newfound 'bad' behaviour. The rest of Lila's supporters backed her up with "How could you do that to Lila","I can't believe you changed." Nearly all her so-call friends had turned their backs and lost all common sense to the Italian's manipulations.

(Alya was supposed to be her best friend, aren’t you supposed to listen to your ‘bestie’ over a complete stranger)

The designer took it all with a bored expression on her face, used to the lecturing which was a waste of time because her behavior isn't going to change, no matter what, Lie-la will keep up the act of being the bully's (*cough*Marinette*cough*) victim.

Her heart that cracks the tiniest bit at the accusations. A small part of her, she admits, is hurt that they think so low of her.Was she really that worthless to them? All those times and efforts helping them out on last-minute favors and giving them free treats. Were they not enough to earn their friendship? Their trust or at the very least, a benefit of doubt?

The only ones who didn’t join the berating to 'correct' the raven-haired girl’s attitude were Chloe (who had proven herself to have changed after the miracle queen incident and Lila stole the spotlight and Sabrina. There were a lot of apologizes, gifts and ‘making up to do’) Alix (she came to her senses when the supposed bullying started) and Nathaniel (Lila blatantly claimed to be the artist for the Ladybug comic to his face).

“Girl, Marinette, are you even listening to me?”Alya demanded.

“Maybe. Did you say anything that doesn’t have to do with Lila or how I did her wrong or how I am no longer the person you knew?”

Marinette knew that being sarcastic would backfire but nothing she does or says will change what they think of her. One word from Lila and they will turn back on her. As much as she hates to admit it, Lila’s threat has fallen through and she was alone. Mostly.

She still had Chloe, Nathaniel, Alix, Luka and Kagami as friends. The trust-worthy and loyal kind.

“Girl,” Alya says in a disappointed tone, shaking her head,“when I look at you, I don’t see that girl who stood up to Chloe the bully-”, Chloe snorted, she had changed but they were too blind and prejudiced against her to notice her efforts, “-Picking on Lila, threatening and harassing her. This isn’t you and you know it. Just get over your jealousy on Lila being close to Adrien and apologize to her.”

If Alya had talked to her in the past 12 months other than demanding things that took away her time or anything relating to Lila, she would know that her infatuation had turned into annoyance.

Marinette sighed, too tired of this routine, tired of trying to knock heads so the brain cells can work again. Apologizing would mean that Lila had won. She was petty and stubborn enough to allow that to happen. Lila said she will take the class and Adrien. Fine, she can have them but Marinette Dupain-Cheng will not admit defeat. Bigger men had fallen to the ravenette for lesser offences. A year has passed since the expulsion and the class still hasn't regained common senses, so they can deal with the consequences after the inevitable downfall of Lila and Marinette will be there to see them lay in the grave they dug.

Steeling herself for the pain that will come with the execution of her plan,

“What if I don’t. I won’t apologize to her because I have not done anything to her or even interacted with her. If I apologize, it would be insincere and a lie. And I hate liars.” The former assassin said evenly.

“Lila is not a liar. I don’t know why you are like this.” Alya said, frustrated.

Marinette knew there would be a small chance of an akuma with Gabriel Agreste having an important meeting to attend on this day that would last for the next hour. This was the small window of opportunity to start the plan and also further confirm the identity of Hawkmoth. Killing two birds with one stone.

“Alya, this has always been me, you just never took the time to get to really know the real me.”, she replied, the last part with an icy tone.

“Well-... I- ..You-, fine, then if you can’t say those simple three words, we can’t be friends. I clearly don’t know what a selfish bitch you are. God, I can’t believe I wanted to be best friends with you. You are now replaced by Lila because unlike you, she is genuinely nice and selfless.” Alya declared. The rest of Lila’s supporters murmured in agreement.

Phase 1, complete. Lure the Lie-la into a false sense of security by making her think she won.

Marinette tried not to show how hurt she was, to be replaced by the scheming bitch. But at the same time she felt relieved, she no longer had to walk on eggshells in fear of losing the friendships of people she used to care about. It felt final as she maintained her stoic expression, hoping they didn't notice the glassy sheen her eyes had.

“Then, it is official. We are no longer friends.”

They haven’t been friends for a long time.

Mme. Bustier finally walked into the classroom to start the afternoon classes, signalling the end of the conversation. After class, Marinette resolves to inform them that she was resigning as class president which she was sure the class will be glad for. She was right.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ladybug was, as the Americans say, pissed at Hawkmoth which was nothing new. He had sent out another akuma just as Marinette was back home and trying to relax after the stressful day. The akuma was not any of her ex-friends which she wasn’t sure to be thankful for or not.

Louise Martin was a boy about Luka’s age and mad at his friends who had blamed their fifth loss-in-a-row on him despite the fact that it was his skills that were getting them any progress. They were playing one of those recently released 5V5 skills and strategy battle games. (League of Legends or Mobile Legends. Take your pick, I am going with the latter)

He was akumatized into Hayakuma as proof of Hawkmoth’s lack of creativity. Hayakuma was a bleached out version of Louise’s chosen hero avatar, Hayabusa whose outfit was basically what the media portrays ninjas to look like with some samurai aspects.

Unfortunately, he also had the hero’s ultimate special powers which were making four shadow copies of himself and being able to switch positions with them. Thanks to Rattlesnake’s Second Chance, they know that he can only make a switch once every two minute. Hayakuma also wields a sword, showing off his skills.

Just lovely.

Hydra and Ladybug were the only ones able to counter his attacks with Hydra’s sword and Ladybug’s summoned one. (Let’s go with that headcanon(?)/trope that she can summon weapons for plot convenience and the others can too but just don’t have enough practise yet.)

The others managed to dodge and shield themselves from Hayakuma’s really sharp sword.

The shadows themselves were annoying as they would distract or hinder the miraculous users by grabbing them by their shadows and making them unable to move. Until Bunnix had the brilliant idea of shadow boxing which gave the heroes gain more even ground.

With how strong and handful the akuma was, it was code ‘all hands on deck’. Ladybug, Stinger, Rattlesnake, Hydra, Bunnix, Trickster. Well, nearly every hand. Lady Mǔ lǎohǔ was busy with the bakery. Chat Noir was nowhere to be seen or very late which had been the norm for the last year ever since Ladybug wanted to form a new miraculous team consisting of permanent heroes.

(He didn’t show up for the first few months because the first permanent member was Ladybug’s mother who did not like his attitude towards her daughter. He ran away with his tail between his legs once he found out how she was related to Ladybug. His face when he realized it, was something Marinette will cherish forever)

At least when Lady Mǔ lǎohǔ was around, he would not dare act out of line. When she is gone however, he is back to his old ways.

After saving one of Louise’s teammates from Hayakuma’s sword, they gathered the rest of the team and hid them someplace safe. Using Trickster’s illusions to trick all the shadows and the original to one place, the heroes were going to surround and ambush them and get the akumatized item. The plan would have been a success if it weren’t for Chat Noir hugging Ladybug from behind, making her miss her cue.

“Hey~ Bugaboo~ Did you miss me~? Your Chaton~?”

Thwack! Smack!

Chat Noir was on the rooftop, groaning pitifully in pain. Especially his crotch area. Ladybug glared at him and looked to the ambush point to see the illusions had disappeared and everyone else gone from their hiding place.

She sighed and turned on the comms, (Thank you, kwamis)

“Sting, did you venomed the akuma?”

“No, he escaped before I could. What happened, LB?”

“A certain cat got me delayed. What’s the status update?”

“Hydra is holding him off and Bunnix found that an umbrella is a good substitute for a sword. The rest of us are keeping track of the shadows. They split up but none of them are getting near where we hid the targets.”

“Where are you? I will meet you later with back-up.”

“Near Notre Dame and tell Mama Tigress I said hi.”

“Tell her yourself.”

She looked down at Chat No-, no he is not worthy of being a hero anymore with the amount of times he had derailed and hijacked the plans to defeat the akumas just so he can ‘earn’ Ladybug’s heart.

She looked down at Adrien Agreste, who was sitting and sulking like a child that was unfairly punished. (Once she got over her crush and started looking at the right things that she managed to piece together her ‘partner’s’ identity by accident. Tikki’s confirmation sealed the deal.)

“Chat Noir, this partnership of ours,” she said, gesturing to the two of them, “ is going to change tonight. Meet me at the ‘spot’ at 11 sharp. Now, go home.”

He left with a small glimmer of hope in his eyes at her words. She felt a little bad about the subtle manipulation but with the way things were now, it can’t go on. He was hindering more than helping and the people of Paris that weren’t shipping ‘Ladynoir’ saw that.

As she jumped towards Notre Dame, she called the bakery with her yoyo.

“Mama, are you free now? I need a little help with the akuma and can you bring the horse miraculous.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chat Noir waited excitedly at what they both dubbed at their ‘spot’, in the good old days when it was just the two of them. Maybe Ladybug was finally open to the idea of dating. Or maybe she must have seen what a great hero he is and was going to get rid of the team. Or realized that having her mother on her team was a bad idea. Parents are the worst and they both can be two rebellious teenagers in love. Like Romeo and Juliet. So romantic~.

He was so deep in his daydream that he didn’t hear his lady land.

“Chat Noir.” Startled, he nearly fell off the roof. No, don’t make a fool of yourself in front of Ladybug.

“Yes, Bugaboo.” Hoping she didn’t know that he was very distracted. His attention will always be hers 100%.

“Don’t call me Bugaboo. Tikki wants to talk to Plagg about Kwami stuff. So you go over and hide behind that chimney. Then, we can talk about why I told you to be here.” Adrien frowned and then smiled. His lady must be very embarrassed about her mistake that must be why she is taking her time. He tried listening to what they were saying but the kwamis were talking in their special Guardian Language. Was it him or did Tikki’s voice sound more like his lady’s voice?

Whizz!

Adrien was tied up with Ladybug’s yoyo. “M’Lady? Bugaboo!? LADYBUG! WHAT IS GOING ON?!! PLAGG-”

Ladybug cut in, “Adrien Agreste, you have been slack in your hero duty and choosing your own feelings over supporting your partner, me, the holder of the Ladybug Miraculous and current Grand Guardian, in the efforts to defeat the enemy of Paris, Hawkmoth. Due to those reasons, you are no longer worthy to be the Holder of the Black Cat Miraculous” in one swift motion, she took the ring off his finger, “As such you are hereby revoked of Plagg’s Ring.”

“NO, YOU CAN’T. YOU CAN’T DO THIS TO ME! I LOVE YOU AND I KNOW YOU LOVE ME BACK. WE ARE SOULMATES, WE ARE MEANT TO BE-”

Adrien went slack at Lady Tigress’s pinch on his pressure point.

“I don’t what you ever saw in the boy.”

“I don’t know either. I think I dodged a bullet here. Can you carry him back to his home? I think I have dealt with enough of him tonight.” Ladybug muttered, as she erased Adrien’s memories of being Chat Noir.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tag list: @alysrose-starchild, @buginetye, @lookatthestars1, @blackroserelina, @macncheesemonster, @mochinek0, @myazael, @tonicxworld, @thewitchwhowaited, @t1dwarrior-of-earth, @kissa-chan, @iwantasecretidentity, @theymakeupfairies, @user00000003, @woe-is-me0, @kashlyn, @mochegato,@moonlightstar64 , @greatcatblaze, @moongoddesskiana, @tazanna-blythe.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(Part 3)

[oopsimbug]

in which... y/n is just trying to put on eyeliner and harry is bored pt. two

a/n: when she’s back from a six month hiatus after making only ONE fic. wow, do i suck. for anyone who cares, school has been pretty rough. i’m actually procrastinating studying for an exam to finally upload this. it’s been pretty hard to balance both school and writing but oh well. anywho, here it finally is. it took so long to write because i wasn’t feeling very inspired by this. a lot of people asked for a part two and even though i kinda wanted to leave it on a sad note, i am a sucker for giving the people what they want, so sorry if this is a bit shit- i definitely don’t like this one myself. i guess i’m not one for fluffy endings. well, at least for this one i wasn’t. i really hope you enjoy it! more stuff to come, if school doesn’t mind fucking off for a little while (or maybe just forever?) xox -(a) bug

pairing: best friend! harry styles x reader

summary: Harry is worried about Y/n. Y/n is worried about Harry. Harry is solving it by thinking of ways to check on her, while Y/n uses cheesy pasta and the Fresh Prince of Bel Air as an excuse to not think. But what will happen when someone is at her door, and it’s not her delivery man?

warnings: angst, swearing, y/n and harry being idiotos, fluffy end, kissing

word count: 5.3k

It had been a week.

One gruelling, painfully long week.

Harry was biting his nails, staring up at the ceiling as he laid in his bed, worrying about her.

About how he fucked up.

He didn’t think that she would be upset for this long. He thought she would scream at him and then text him the following day, wanting to hang out- a silent “I forgive you”, he supposed.

But after two days of radio silence on her end, he decided to call her. The only problem was that her last words to him were “leave”. She wanted space. She needed to think things through- what things? Harry had no clue. But he had to respect her and her choice to not want him around. So with that, he put down the phone.

But a small part of him (okay fine, a big part of him), wanted her to just show up at his house so they could cuddle again, talking about the stupidest of things while they made cupcakes in his kitchen. They would be listening to groovy music and now and then, they’d stop mixing bowls and sifting flour to dance- well, they were horrible dancers, so more so just wave their hands, hips and shoulders around. It would be fun and would always end up with them laughing at one another. He would lick the batter and she would berate him, telling him that “one of these days, you are going to get salmonella and I’ll just laugh at your stupid ass” and he would retort with something witty and a bit flirty like “don’t worry darling, we both know you would be right at my side if I got sick. I know you can’t stand being apart from me” with a wink and a cheeky smirk. He just wants to see her in her oversized Space Jam hoodie and little basketball shorts. Or her short flower shirt and his sweatpants that she has to cuff at the bottoms because they’re too long. Or even-

He’s gotta stop thinking about her, or his brain will soon explode. But he just can’t stop. He tries to think of the happier moments, like her showing him a tour of her very healthy houseplants that she prides herself in, but every time he closes his eyes, all he can see is her teary face telling him to leave. So no, if he was given the choice to think of her flailing her arms around in his kitchen to dancehall tunes while making sweet treats or crying at something that he provoked, you bet your ass he’d choose the former.

But after the seventh day, he knew that something wasn’t right. This was too much “thinking time”. For all he knew, she could be fine, but she could also be positively bawling. She could be living for this free time, but she also could be waiting for him to make the first move. She could be wanting Harry out of her life for her benefit forever, but she also could be feeling lonely and counting the seconds for their makeup, just like he was.

That was it. He had to go see her and make sure his best friend was okay.

He practised what he was going to say to her in his car on the way to her apartment. “Y/n, I’m so sorry for how I acted. I didn’t stop to think about how you were feeling and didn’t take your emotions into account which was unbelievably wrong of me. I’m truly sorry. It’s just that I really care about you and you’re my best friend and I can’t see you choose a tinder fuck over me and if I saw him in the street I would knock his lights out and I just want to kiss you, can I kiss you, oh god please let me kiss you I just want to-“

Fuck, what was wrong with him? Why was he so upset? He had been on plenty of dates with other celebrities and models and she was always on the sidelines, cheering him on. So why was he getting so touchy-feely about a single tinder date? Maybe he was just in desperate need of attention. He hadn’t had a girlfriend for almost one year and casual fuck arounds also stopped about four months ago, so maybe he just needed to fuck someone quick. That would explain why he sees his best friend’s kindness and natural flirty nature as something more romantic. Every laugh at his jokes, every look in her eyes, every graze of her hand on his thighs as she leans over him to get her drink on the side table next to him, he becomes more switched on and awake. She leaves him feeling giddy and excited at every conversation. “This can’t just be because I’m horny right?” he cannot believe he would ever be that horny. What the hell was he going to do?

*

This is pathetic she thought.

I’m pathetic.

She let out a huge sigh before shoving another forkful of cheesy pasta into her mouth.

What am I doing?

The answer?

Eating carbs upon carbs upon carbs, lounging on her comfy sofa in the most comfortable, yet daggiest pair of pyjamas ever while watching reruns of The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air for the fiftieth time, actively avoiding all commitments, housework and jobs that involve moving further than to the kitchen, which even then was an embarrassingly burdening trek on its own.

But she let it slide. How could she not? She was upset and this was how she coped. That’s what she kept reminding herself as she boiled more and more pasta watching the days pass her by without realisation, but now, she’s beginning to question if this was the best idea. Pushing all thoughts of him out of her mind by not looking at her phone just in case he called or texted. But she was beginning to struggle.

It wasn’t his fault. He didn’t know what inner turmoil she was facing. He seemed genuinely hurt when she snapped at him. He truly didn’t understand why she took so much offence to the playground ribbing, it seemed. And she had to go be a dick and ignore him. He was probably worried sick. How many times would he have called to check up on her? 10? 15? The more she thought about it, the more she wanted this stupid feud to be over and just be in his arms again, even if it’s just as a friend. So she caved. Turned on her phone, expecting there to be at least a call or a text asking if she was still alive or not. And although she did receive a message of that likeness, it wasn’t from Harry, no. It was from her daily water tracking app, pleading her to fill in her daily intake of water so as to not die of dehydration after she was suspected to have not drunk any for the entire week when in reality, she was just too in her head to open her stupid phone and log her water.

Wow, she thought.

Now not only has Harry chosen to not speak to you, but you also look like a huge idiot right now. Of course, he wouldn’t want to talk to you! You got pissed at him for absolutely no reason and now he hates you. He’s gonna ask for his cardigan and track pants that he keeps at your house in case he wanted to sleepover. He’s going to take back all of his little knick-knacks that he leaves over, like the cute diffuser that he leaves because he knows you need it for your constant hay-fever that blocks your nose and then he’s going to declare that you aren’t friends anymore and then you will never get the chance to tell him how you feel and then-

Her panicky brooding is interrupted by a knock on the door.

“Who the hell could that be?”, she thinks. It was too late for it to be the postman with her package containing her entire Amazon wish list that she bought on the third day of mourning to make herself feel better. But it couldn’t be Mrs Xiao asking her if she had any holes in her shirts that needed stitching. The sweet old lady fell asleep at 8:37 pm sharp after her medicine that she’d take at 8:30 pm would kick in (which she learnt after spending nights over at her apartment where her niece, Mei, took care of her. Y/n would learn traditional recipes like baozi and watch movies with her two friends all the time). It couldn’t be Mei either, she was always in online uni lectures from 8:30-10:30 pm, locked away in her little study, so as to not bother or be bothered. So now, a little panicked, Y/n wondered who was truly at her door?

Another two knocks come, echoing off the walls of her little apartment as she turns down the volume of the program she was watching. She stares at the door from her couch, debating whether she should risk getting stabbed by a possible murderer or not, before ultimately deciding that life was too short. She was also getting sick and tired of the knocks that kept arriving in threes. She swings her legs off the couch and onto the floor, pushing them into her slippers so that her feet wouldn’t touch the cold floor, waddling her way to the door before shyly opening it, peeking at who it could be through the tiny crack in the opening, hoping whoever it was wouldn’t mind her current state: belly filled with pasta, hair knotty, giant shirt with sweatpants on and Harry’s patchwork cardigan hanging off her shoulders- which she had been wearing all day, cherishing the pretty piece of clothing and his scent imbedded in it, taking it all in just in case he asks for it back. She peeps at the torso of this mystery person, realising that Harry owns the jumper worn by them, before looking up and locking eyes with a worn out and tired eyed Harry, one hand in the pocket of the familiar hoodie and another extended out near the door, ready to knock again before freezing when it opens up all the way to show herself to her best friend. He doesn’t eye her up and down cheekily like he normally does when she is wearing pyjamas, wolf-whistling at her relaxed state, claiming that “You look runway-ready, my love! Do a twirl for the crowd, will you?”. Instead, he stares her right in the eyes with what looks like almost relief, before smiling a weak and broken smile.

One of them needed to break the silence or both would have just stared at each other in her doorway until the world exploded. So she starts.

“Hi.” her voice hovers a tinge above a whisper, almost as though if she dared to speak louder, this probable illusion of the one she loves would fade away. He lights up a little bit, probably relieved that she started the conversation.

“Hey,” his soft voice matched her volume and tone as if he too didn’t want this to be a dream. “May I come in?” The words sound awkward to her coming out of his mouth. Harry never had to ask for permission to be invited in- he usually just strolled in without so much as a holler to indicate he was present, finding amusement in scaring her instead while she was doing whatever she was doing, whether that be reading, watching a movie, cooking or napping. They were the best of friends and never had to inquire about entry to each other’s domains, along with other small things like if they had anything in their kitchens to eat or if they could sit somewhere, so hearing it was a little disheartening and provoked Y/n to think about how serious this situation was.

“Okay”, she replied after the pause of contemplation, opening the door fully so that the lanky boy could follow along behind her, like a little puppy. She didn’t like how awkward the situation was. She just wanted things to go back to what they were.

But then you wouldn’t be able to tell him you love him... her inner voice argued. And she agreed. She knew that yes, this will be awkward, but it’s an opportunity for him to listen to her and know that she isn’t joking.

“Would you like some tea?” She enquires. They’ll need to handle this like proper grown-ups (which in all honesty, isn’t their dynamic- it’s more like first-year uni students who are mature enough to have deep conversations but still laugh at dad jokes and anything remotely serious, like a painting with boobs), and from what she knows, or has seen in movies when the characters are being serious, is that you need tea or a drink of that sort and a sit down on the couch where you talk stuff out. So that’s exactly what she does.

“Yes please,” Harry’s soft voice replies as he toes off his boots that most definitely cost more than her apartment. Y/n nods and heads to the small kitchenette and flips the switch on the electric kettle before going into her cupboard that housed the mugs. Harry stood awkwardly near the sofas, and to save him the embarrassment of waiting while standing, Y/n invites him to sit with a small, “You can take a seat,” and a quick glance at him before returning her gaze to the mugs to make herself look busy. She didn’t want to look him in the eyes for more than three seconds in fear of bursting into tears and the worn out and tired sight of him. She shakes the thought out of her head and begins to prepare the mugs.

Y/n put two teabags in her mug while putting one in Harry’s. She was raised in a household of avid tea drinkers and she inherited her strong tea quirk from her father who would always keep two teabags with only a dash of milk, and the only difference between her tea and her fathers was that Y/n wasn’t strong enough to take her tea without sugar, unlike her father, who thought that drinking unbelievably concentrated leaf juice with milk was a fun and relaxing time. On the other hand, Harry liked to keep one tea bag in his mug while he drank it, but just like her father, he too took little to no sugar with his cup, being the health freak he was. And early in their friendship, when she mentioned it to him, Harry chuckled and chirped, “Your father is a smart man. He has to be for raising amazing and talented people like your siblings. I’m not sure what went wrong with you though...” while booping her nose as they laid together under a tree for a little picnic. And though she rolled her eyes at him and punched his shoulder for the sly dig at her, she was practically beaming at the fact that he thought her family was smart. Harry had no idea how much that meant to her. Y/n loved her entire family, and she was unbelievably close to them, so it made her entire week to know that Harry, someone she respected and loved so much, recognised how talented and smart each of her family members were. Don’t get her wrong, she didn’t need the validation to know that her family was amazing, but she felt so special knowing he took the time to notice. He did that a lot though. Doing things that meant a lot to her without batting an eye. Saying things that only a person as observant as he could notice, like complimenting her eye colour in the light and asking her to read for him because he constantly mentions how much he loves her voice.

Y/n looked over to the same sweet guy she fell head over heels for, who was sitting on her couch, fidgety as ever, and wondered if they would ever be the same after the very next moments to come. She didn’t want things to change between them, but she was dying inside knowing that he wasn’t hers. And getting over him was not in the question, after the fiasco that happened last week. She just wished she could get inside his head to sate her painful curiosity.

What is he thinking about?

**

What is she thinking about?

It’s the million-dollar question running through his mind. What was she pondering over as she made them tea? Did she want to talk to him? Was she mad that it took him so long to find the balls to face her? Was she as nervous as he was? Was she worried that they would never be the same again like he was?

He was going into panic mode, questioning everything, while probably looking stupid as ever. As much as he regretted how awkward things were now, and the fact that he instigated her to lash out at him a week ago, he was realising that he was not regretting the fact that he did it. He didn’t want her to go out with someone else, and she didn’t. And yes, of course, he feels bad-beyond bad, in fact- for making her cry, and wishes he could take it all back, he also sees this as an opportunity to tell her how he feels about her. He could finally tell her that he thinks about her all the time. About her soft smile, her bright eyes, her melodic laugh, her speaking voice that brings butterflies to his stomach. He could tell her about how he loses himself at work, the grocery store, fuck- even at events- thinking about what she was doing at her house. Was she under her blankets on her couch, watching some corny tv show? Was she baking her signature choc chip cookies that taste like the gods blessed every single biscuit on the tray before they were put in the oven? Was she knitting her cat, Chesnut, another rug to plonk herself down on, with her feet up on the ottoman as she listened to the 7 o’clock news on the radio? Was she writing a paper for another deadline? Something so sophisticated, like the exploration of white and male privilege and how it is ingrained in our society? Something that Harry tried to understand and research so that he could stay in the loop with his smart girl’s interests, but he always struggled with.

It was a huge insecurity of his. Not that his best friend was smarter than he was, no way. He treasured the fact that she could and would whip his ass at a debate on things like the state of the world, or human rights. She could school him on global politics, languages, maths, science, history and literally anything else, and he would be cheering her on. What he was insecure about was her realising that he was probably slowing her down in life. Y/n was well within her rights to kick him out of her life for being nothing but a freeloader and stopping her from reaching her full potential, what with him constantly stopping her from her own life to help him go through shit happening in his. Whenever he was sad, or confused, or upset, Y/n was the first person he would talk to and he feared that she would realise that he was probably taking advantage of her and stop talking to him. And that scared him. It scared him because he knew that she didn't need him at all, but he needed her to do anything in life. Every major and minor decision in his life has been approved by Y/n first, and not because she was a controlling friend who didn’t trust him with his own life, but because Harry needed her validation. Harry Styles, a world-famous superstar, had girls, guys and non-binaries at his feet, following his every beck and call. Harry Styles, who was on the cover of every magazine, known by every celebrity, dated only the most perfect of women, required validation from Y/n, a psychology major at a small university. Y/n, who liked to plan her day out on a to-do list, end up not doing anything on that to-do list and cry about it afterwards. Y/n, who breaks it down to “Murder She Wrote” by Chaka Demus & Pliers like it’s her last 4 minutes and 5 seconds alive on this Earth while making pancakes. Y/n, who cries more when she’s laughing while watching Tik Toks than she does during sad movies.

To celebrities, Y/n was nothing but a regular. But to Harry, she was all. She was the warmth of a sweater that you toss in the dryer for a few minutes to make it extra toasty. She was the pad of butter that you spread onto your pumpkin sourdough toast and it ends up being exactly the amount you wanted. She was the feeling when you are driving home from a long day of interviews and premiers, and you’re on the freeway and the windows down and you just… exist. She is the feeling you get when you watch Pride and Prejudice, and the relief of when you find the perfect word to end a lyric. She is when your shoes fit perfectly, and when you finish a book so utterly fulfilling that you lie there in a trance, looking up at your ceiling at 3 am, wondering how you could have been so lucky to be able to be blessed with an ending like the one you just read. Y/n was all those things and more.

And that’s why he had to tell her he loved her. No matter how scared he was.

***

The electric kettle is finished boiling the tea all too quickly as the bubbling comes to an end and the distinct click of the switch turning back off echoes around the silent apartment. Y/n had poured the scalding hot water into the two cups she had prepared stared into them.

It was time. She had tried to avoid this for as long as possible, but now it was the moment to face the music. She picked up the two mugs of tea and brought them to her lounge where Harry was sitting on her worn in green sofa, staring at her coffee table, eyebrows scrunched, pouted lips, deep in thought, before looking up at her with wide green eyes, and followed her to where she stood in front of him. She passed his mug to him before sitting on the comfy chair a few feet away from the sofa and from him, putting some distance in between them for her sake, so that she wouldn’t try to hug him and say sorry without saying what she needed to say first. Which she needed to start talking about now, so as not to sit in the awkward silence created by the two.

Say something!!

“So…’

Jesus fuck…. was that all you could think of? Wow. I am going to lose my best friend.

Y/n was choking.

“I am so sorry,” Harry’s voice intercepts, raspy from the lack of use, looking up from the coffee table he seemed so interested in. “I am so fucking sorry Y/n. I have no excuse as to why I was making fun of you that day. I pushed too far and I am a shit friend for not noticing that you were already on edge. It was so wrong of me and I am so sorry.” He stopped himself before he started to ramble, looking at her with eyes filled with an emotion she couldn’t decipher.

Y/n felt… unsatisfied. Why did she feel this way? He apologised, right? So why does she feel unfulfilled? Why does she want him to say more? He hit all of the points he had to for a standard apology, so why did she think he hadn’t done enough? Was it that little optimist in her brain hoping he would maybe reveal a slight attraction to her? Maybe tell her that he loves her, and has loved her forever and ever? Confess that she has bewitched him, body and soul so that she didn’t have to? God, was she an idiot. But a lovestruck idiot at that. She bites her tongue and replies.

“Harry, I forgive you. Although you were annoying as ever,” She rolls her eyes and smirks, while he lets out a breathy, half-assed chuckle, showing his acknowledgement at her attempt to ease the lowered yet still prevalent tension. She continues. “ I understand that you were just trying to have fun. I guess I was the one who irrationally lashed out . I am always okay with you poking fun at me, but I was just frustrated and tired and I took it out on you. I’m sorry for the improper communication and I’m sorry for pushing you away when we should’ve just talked…”

“I forgive you too. I think this was just miscommunication on both parts.” He stared into her eyes, almost as if he could sense the discontent in her, but chose to ignore it.

“I guess so.” She halfheartedly answered, not really knowing where to take the conversation next. They had both apologised, but evidently still had things to say. Well, Y/n had things to say, that’s for sure, but she was pretty sure that Harry wanted to say something too. He had that look on his face where he wanted to say something but was forcing himself not to.

What does he want to say? Why can’t he say it to my face? I mean, sure, I’m also hiding shit I wanna say, but I have an excuse. This could ruin our friendship. What does he have to say?

“Great,” Harry replies, trying to fill the awkward pauses and conversation that is being held. He still looked like he had something to say, but seemed like he was not budging.

Well, if he’s not saying anything, I’m not either. Why do I have to confess my feelings and put our friendship on the line if he isn’t even going to say what’s on his mind?

“So, are we good?”

“I don’t know. Are we? I mean, I forgive you and you forgive me, right?”

“Right… No yeah, we’re alright. We’re completely fine!” Y/n replies quickly. Why the fuck would you say that? You’re not fine.

There is a pregnant pause and Y/n has half a better mind to just get up, walk to the bathroom again with her head down and lock herself in there till he leaves again, because she cannot take this awkward conversation. Not with him. She shifts, ready to stand up to get some water, when Harry looks at her, confusion and slight panic setting into his face.

“Wait. I don’t think I’m fine…” She looks up at the boy sitting in front of her, reading the words from her mind like they were scribed on a piece of paper in the blackest of ink, permanent and bold. Her heart stuttered. What else did he want?

“Is everything okay, H?” she tentatively asks. He loses eye contact with her, gaze lowering towards the table in front of him

“I-” he pauses, trying to collect his thoughts while simultaneously trying to explain to her why he wasn’t okay. “I just- fuck” his head falls down, his face inches away from the hot tea in his hands, the humid steam billowing out of the mug and warming his elegant face as he takes a deep breath and tries once more to convey his thoughts. “I don’t want us to be friends again.”

Her heart stops. This could go one of two ways. He could either be confessing his hatred or his adoration for her, and either one would probably end with her imploding. She tries to take a neutral tone when she replies.

“What does that mean, H?”

He looks at her once more. “It’s not enough, Y/n... “

“What?” She is confused. Her friendship isn’t enough? How is she supposed to reply to that?

“I want more. I don’t want us to just be friends. I want to be more with you. I want to do more with you. I want to do things that friends… they shouldn’t do together…”

Is he trying to confess he likes her? Why, in all the ways you could speak, would he choose to speak like that?! She has had enough of him dawdling around his feelings. “Harry, stop being cryptic and fucking tell me what’s going on?!”

“I love you, Y/n! I fucking love you, Y/n. So much. And it is eating me from the inside out. I hate that we can’t be normal anymore, and I hate that you don’t love me the way I love you, but I cannot sit here and pretend everything is fine, because I love you.”

Y/n is stunned. Frozen in her spot. Can’t move, can’t speak, can’t breathe. Stuck in space, and stuck in time.

Holy fucking shit… he loves me…

While Y/n processes the life changing knowledge that her best friend loves her, her best friend conveniently sits next to her, wishing that he was dead for the letdown he was about to receive.

“Say something… please, for the love of God, say something!”

****

She looks up at Harry. Not Harry Styles, playboy, whore, singer, millionaire, but instead; Harry, her best friend of five years, reddened face out of embarrassment. She sees the mortality in his eyes. Feels his presence so heavily in the moment. She is in awe. True awe of him, and his ability to love her. And with that awe- and that stupid look on her face, she reaches up and cradles his face in her hands, brushing her thumbs softly over his plush pink lips. He stands just as still as her, barely breathing, as if it would shatter the fantasy to stardust and he would wake up in his bed, cold shivers running down his spine, as has happened previously whenever he thought of this moment, staring up at his ceiling at 3:40AM wondering why he thought of his best friend in such a way. She creeped closer to his face before stopping a breath away from him, and whispered.

“Is this okay?”

She looked into his eyes, and he looked into hers, both never feeling so alive before. He wishes to tell her that she needn’t ask for his permission, and that he wants to kiss her forever. Eternally locked in an embrace that holds their souls together. But all he can muster is a weak and broken whisper back.

“Please,”

She can hold it for no longer, and leans in the rest of the way, their lips moulding together, for the very first time, eyes fluttering close, as his hands reach to grab her by the hips to straddle him, deepening the kiss even further. And when they part for breath, panting for air with slightly moist lips, they touch foreheads, eyes still closed. Words needn’t be exchanged- everything that yearned to be said was useless, as it could never describe how they truly felt for each other. So hopelessly besotted with one another, that all they could do was breathe together before kissing once more, hoping that their actions could provide even an iota of an idea of how much they love one another.

Two best friends, turned lovers forevermore.

[talatomaz]

lockdown | jj x fem!teen!reader

a/n: i can’t believe that a year ago today, the last ever episode of criminal minds aired. i miss jj so much 🤧

this is sort of in line with my own experiences (to a certain extent). and there’s not as much jj x d!r as i’d intended but I hope you still like it.

(feedback/positive comments are appreciated)

requested by @ouat2017 : “could you do a jj x daughter where the daughter’s school is on lockdown and jj is worried or something like that?”

warnings: gun violence. blood

word count: 2.6k

masterlist | request list | request rules

r is jj’s 18 year old adopted daughter and suddenly finds herself on lockdown after someone brings a gun into her school

i do not give you permission to repost or translate my fics on any platform - likes/reblogs are okay and are much appreciated

“Look, you’re the one that needs to be tutored so can you please focus?”

You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest in annoyance.

You were currently in the tutoring centre trying to help a self-absorbed jock pass English so he could remain on the school’s football team.

Looking around you, you saw a handful of students giving both you and Cameron - the man-child you were tutoring - disparaging looks.

“You’re not supposed to be yelling at me. You’re meant to be telling me the answers.”

The aforementioned narcissist leaned against his chair, smirking at you in a way that made you fight to hide a shudder.

You could have easily wiped the grin off his face by mentioning who your mother was and who she worked for but instead, you decided to just continue ignoring his advances and carry on teaching him.

“That’s not how this works, Cameron. Now either you listen to me or you fail and get kicked off the team. And quite frankly, I’d rather the latter happen.”

You watched as his brows furrowed in confusion. Sighing, you answered, “latter means the second thing of two things mentioned in a sentence. Now, for the love of God, just finish writing your paragraph on Heller's satire of capitalism in Catch-22.”

You let out a breath of relief when he finally relented and started to scribble on his sheet of paper. You glanced over at one of your friends, who was also tutoring for extra credit, and smiled when she rolled her eyes at Cameron’s actions.

Leaning against the large desk that stood at the front of the room, you relished in the long-awaited silence aside from hushed whispers that came from other students asking for help.

Taking out your phone, you glanced at the screen to see that it was only midday and soon the lunch bell would be ringing.

You smiled softly at your lock screen.

It was a photo of you and JJ, your adoptive mother.

It was taken a few weeks prior at your 18th birthday party. You’d been living with JJ for almost 5 years now; her having fostered you before later adopting you when you were 14.

You still didn’t know what she saw in you on that day you’d first met her - you’d lost your family in a home invasion, barely surviving yourself - but whatever it was, you were grateful because you’d gotten a second chance at life.

Several minutes passed and you’d only broken from your train of thought when you heard someone clearing their throat beside you.

Looking over your shoulder, you saw your friend, the one who’d rolled her eyes earlier at Cameron, standing beside you.

“I see you finally got him to do his work.” She whispered, loud enough for your ears only.

“Barely. He still has an essay to write and hasn’t even finished a paragraph yet.”

“I would have smacked his sorry ass by now.”

You laughed before clamping your hand over your mouth, her comment having caught you off guard.

“Ally!” You whisper-shouted, playfully hitting her arm.

She looked at you with a raised eyebrow causing you to smirk, “Trust me, I’ve thought about it but-”

Before you could finish your sentence, a large bang rang out, shattering the silence the room had once held.

With wide eyes, your head whipped to the door where the gunshot had presumably come from and you listened as the hallways were filled with panicked screams.

Running to the door, ignoring the gasps and shouts from the other students behind you, you turned the lock on the door, pulled down the blinds, switched off the lights and jammed a chair under the handle.

Looking up, you saw everyone had the same look of panic in their eyes; a few were crying, including Ally, and others were pale with shock, Cameron was one of them.

“Guys, we’re gonna be okay but we have to be quiet.” You whispered harshly, constantly looking over your shoulder at the door, listening for any indication of the shooter coming your way.

Everyone stared at you, as if you were the leader of a camp and they were small children awaiting for further instruction.

You supposed it wasn’t far off.

By taking charge, you were the one who’d been unwillingly given the role of protector.

“First things first,” you walked over to the group of 10 students, “I need you all to make sure your phones are on silent. We can’t risk being caught.”

You watched as everyone followed your instructions.

“I know you all want to call your parents but that’s going to attract attention to us so for right now, we need to be quiet.”

Your heart was beating out of your chest and as you spoke, one thought repeated in your head. JJ.

Taking out your phone, you scrolled to find your mother’s name in your contacts. You watched as your thumb hovered over her name.

Just breathe, y/n. Breathe.

Tapping your mother’s name, you brought the phone to your ear.

“I thought you said we couldn’t call anyone.”

Your eyes locked onto Cameron’s, his face pale and his eyes filled with terror and a hint of anger.

“My Mum works for the FBI.” You whispered as the phone rang out.

Any other time and you probably would have laughed at the way his face grew paler, if that was even possible. But, in a situation this tense, it was going to be difficult to find any levity.

Your Mum picked up on the second ring and you let out a shaky breath when you heard her voice.

“Hi baby. A bit early for your lunch, isn’t it?”

You closed your eyes at her soft tone, as if you were trying to engrave the way she spoke into your mind lest you would never hear it again.

From your lack of response, the blonde sensed there was something up, “Y/N? What’s wrong?”

A single tear dropped down your cheek as you struggled to maintain a steady tone. Catching a glimpse of Ally staring at you, you steeled yourself and spoke.

“Mum, you need to come quick. Someone’s brought a gun into school.”

“Oh my-AARON.”

You winced when you heard her shout for her boss, listening as you could hear her run up stairs. You held your breath as she filled Hotch in on what was happening before telling Garcia to hack into your school’s security system.

“Are you okay? Stupid question. But are you hurt?”

“Mum,” you interrupted her rambling, “I’m fine. I’m in the tutoring centre with 10 other people. I don’t know how many people are injured. It just all happened so fast.”

“It’s okay, baby. You’re gonna be okay.”

Though you could hear the clear panic in her voice, her words did bring some form of reassurance to you.

“Penelope’s hacking into the system so hopefully she can have eyes soon.”

As she spoke, you could hear the clacking of keys in the background of the call; presumably Garcia doing exactly what JJ said.

“Mum?” You questioned when you heard Garcia swear.

Instead of JJ answering, the usually peppy tech analyst replied, her voice shaky and wet, as if she was crying.

“Y/N, thank God you’re okay.”

“What’s wrong, Garcia?”

“Someone’s disabled the cameras remotely. I can only get them back online if someone reprograms them from the inside.”

Grasping what she was explaining, you nodded, “I’ll fix them.”

“What? No!”

Your mother had taken the phone off of Garcia.

“You are not leaving that room, y/n. We’ll find another way in.”

“Mum, someone needs to fix the system from inside the school. I need to do it.”

Ignoring your mother’s worried shouts, you continued to speak, “Mum, I have to. I love you.”

You disconnected the phone and switched it off, preventing her from being able to call you back.

“Y/N, you are not leaving this room.”

You’d only just realised that everyone had been watching you intently during that entire interaction.

“Yes, I am.”

Moving away from the huddle, you rose to your feet and replied to your friend.

Cameron rose to his feet and towered over you as he challenged you, “No, you are not. You’re going to put us in danger.”

“Do you know how to hack into our school’s security system and then reconnect the transformer and enter the Mastercode?”

His face contorted to a look of confusion making you reply,

“Exactly.”

Turning to leave, you felt a large hand enclose around your arm.

“I said, you’re not leaving.”

Your eyes flickered from Cameron’s hand up to his face that dared you to take another step.

“Remove your hand from my arm before I remove your hand from your body. You may letter in football but I’ve been trained by some of the best FBI agents there are and unless you want to end up in a sleeper hold, I suggest you shut up and do what I say for once.”

His harsh grip almost immediately lessened as his hand returned to his side.

“Good. Now, have any of you been shot? No? I didn’t think so. Well, I have and whoever did get shot is probably bleeding out in the hallway. I can’t not do anything.”

No one dared to respond and instead, shook their head ‘no’ at your asking if anyone else would try to stop you.

Content that you weren’t going to deal with any more unnecessary distractions, you made your way to the door and gently removed the chair that was beneath the handle.

“Ally, you’re in charge. Lock the door when I leave. By my count, the FBI will be here soon. And Cameron, you do anything stupid and I’ll shoot you myself.”

Unlocking the door, you stepped out into the empty hallway and hastily made your way to where the main security hub was located.

Just a couple of hours ago, all you had wished for was silence but now that your wish had been granted, all you wanted was to hear the playful shouts and conversations between your friends and fellow students.

The silence that currently fell on your school was unnerving and unbearable. And with each step you took, you flinched at the sound your shoes made against the marble floor. Each noise practically acting as a beacon for the shooter to come find you.

You let out a sigh of relief when you found the Hub and you quickly worked to reconnect the security system. Typing on the laptop that rested atop one of the servers, you couldn’t help the smile that formed when all the cameras re-engaged.

Tapping on one of the keys, you navigated through the various cameras, looking for any indication of the shooter or of any injured people. You stopped when you caught a glimpse of someone.

Squinting at the screen, you saw, what appeared to be a freshman - since you didn’t recognise him as being a part of your year - laying on the ground, a hand clutching his stomach as blood coated his clothing.

Immediately knowing where he was, you cautiously made your way to the east hallway before running when you noticed him laying on the ground, his blood coating the once-white marble floor.

Falling to your knees, you pressed your hands against his wound, trying to stop the steady flow. He groaned out in pain, tears staining his face.

“H-Help me.” He choked out.

“What’s your name?”

“Jackson. But everyone c-calls me J-Jack.”

“Jack, you’re going to be okay. I just need you stay with me, okay? I’m-”

“Y/N.”

You failed to hide the surprise from your face making the younger teen smile despite his predicament.

“You’re t-tutoring Cameron. Everyone knows who you are. Y-You’re the one who doesn’t take any of his shit. I think h-he likes you.”

“Well, tough shit for him. I may be bi but he’s definitely not my type.”

Jack’s laugh quickly turned into another groan of pain.

Unzipping your jacket with one hand, you used the other to keep pressure on his wound. After removing the jacket, you harshly pressed it against his torso and watched as it barely absorbed the blood.

“I’m gonna die, aren’t I?”

“No, you’re not. I won’t let you.” You said, tears filling in your eyes as memories rushed back of when you tried to save your brother after he’d been shot.

“You’re going to be okay. I just need you to-”

You stilled when you heard footsteps come up behind you.

“Well, what do we have here?”

You didn’t recognise the voice and couldn’t bring yourself to turn around to face the person who’d caused all this pain.

You opened your mouth before closing it again, unsure of what to say.

Closing your eyes, you readied yourself for your inevitable death when a shot rang out and a body slumped to the ground beside you.

Jumping at the action, you turned around and almost collapsed in relief at what you saw. Your Mum and her team stood behind you with several SWAT members flanking them.

The tears that had once filled your eyes now spilled shamelessly down your cheeks.

Without saying a word, JJ holstered her gun and ran to your side, hugging you as best she could since your hands were still pressed against Jack’s wound.

Paramedics soon followed and after that it was all a blur. It was as if you were floating outside of your body. Logically, you knew it was the effects of an adrenaline crash but you felt so disconnected from your body.

You barely took note as your mother gently lifted you to your feet, allowing you to be briefly looked over by the paramedics. Nor as your mother escorted you to one of the school bathrooms where she rinsed the blood off your hands.

You didn’t even say a word until you’d arrived back at the BAU where a worried Penelope wrapped you in a tight hug which you returned.

“I’m gonna take her up to my old office, Hotch.”

The Unit Chief simply nodded as he and the rest of the team watched as JJ led you to the abandoned office that was still filled with random case files.

Closing the door, she sat you down on her sofa and stared at you, not touching you in fear that even a simple caress would cause you to shatter.

You exhaled a long breath before finally speaking, “I’m sorry.”

Her brows narrowed, “Sorry? Sweetheart, why?��

You looked at your hands that had been coated in blood less than an hour before and then up at your mother; her blue eyes filled with nothing but concern, love and confusion.

“You told me not to leave and I did. I’m sorry.”

And with that, you started to cry heart-wrenching sobs that made your shoulders shake.

JJ gathered you in her arms, gently rocking you as her long blonde hair draped over you.

“It’s okay, y/n. I got you, baby. You’re safe now.”

Her arms wrapped tightly around you as she laid soft kisses on your head, her hand stroking your back.

That only served to make you burrow into her even more, seeking comfort in her motherly embrace.

You muttered your apologies as she continued to reassure you that you were okay.

JJ was afraid that if she stopped, you wouldn’t be here, safe in her arms.

Still rocking you in her arms, she whispered in your ear,

“I got you, baby. You’re safe now.”

[teletraan-meets-jarvis]

What I Want - Part 2

AO3 Link

Chapter Title: What I Need

Pairing: Crosshair x fem!Jedi Reader

Summary: Following the awkwardness of the night before, you go to an old friend to try and process your feelings for Crosshair.

Click here for Part 1

Warnings: 18+, a bit more frisky business but not full on so rated 18 just to be safe. Swearing.

Word Count: 2.6k

Author’s Notes: You ask, you get!! Thanks so much for all the support and love for part 1 ❤️. As a thank you, I bring you part 2, I hope you enjoy! If this one takes off a bit as well, I do have an idea for a little bonus chapter around the Bad Batches' reaction. As always, feedback/comments are massively appreciated along with reblogs. Fic is below the cut off, thanks for reading!!

Taglist: @aerynwrites @shannon-lynn-21 @saltywintersoldat @tired-night-owl @wille-zarr

A comm alarm beeped softly, slowly pulling you out your slumber. Giving the device a sleepy glare, you shut it off and huffed back onto your bunk. Wrecker’s snores were echoing off the small ship barracks, you rolled your eyes at his sleeping form across the room as you swung your legs over the side of your top bunk. Below you, Tech slept soundly, he managed to fall asleep with his goggles on which were now sitting wonky on his relaxed face. He also had a datapad clutched to his chest, almost like a teddy bear, which made you chuckle to yourself.

You’d barely slept after getting back from the mission but being a General stopping over on Coruscant meant rest would be a pipe dream. Your alarm was set to get you out of bed and ready for the first of what you were sure would be a hundred and ten briefings today. You were always happy to shoulder the politics for the team, removing that burden from Hunter so they could keep to themselves. But today, you could really do without it.

You looked over at Hunter and Crosshair’s bunks, the former sleeping up top with an arm over his eyes. Probably to block out the few small coloured lights on the ship that shone from critical systems, preventing the room from being truly pitch black. You didn’t envy Hunter’s enhanced senses, they seemed to cause him quite a bit of discomfort when they weren’t on missions. You should probably pick him up an eye mask one of these days.

Below him, Crosshair slept with his back to the open room. One of the few times you ever saw his body relaxed was when he slept. You cringed as you remembered yesterday’s awkwardness with the sniper and mentally cursed at yourself for causing, what was, an easily avoidable situation.

Shaking your head you jumped silently off of your bunk, mindful to not wake any of the batch. You gently removed Tech’s goggles, placing them in their usual spot before moving over to grab some fresh robes and head for the fresher. Today was going to be a real drag.

—————————————————

“Hey! Look what the Lothcat dragged in” someone called after you as you trudged up the steps to the GAR Headquarters. You turned around to see none other than Anakin Skywalker jogging up behind you.

“Nice to see you too Skyguy” he chuckled at the nickname as he threw an arm around your shoulders.

You fell into companionable chatter as you made your way to your first meeting, the dark halls of the military headquarters looking indistinguishable as you attempted to find the correct room. Members of the Coruscant Guard patrolled the halls, nodding politely to you both as you strolled past.

Eventually you found the room where Mace, Plo and Luminara were waiting, along with some clone and human high command. You stood outside the door for a moment, readying yourself to seal your fate of being talked at for a solid eight standard hours.

Eventually you caved, mostly as you were on the verge of being late if you debated standing outside any longer. Begrudgingly, you sat through briefing after briefing. All the voices and different rooms blending into one grey blur as you tried to take in what information you could, but your tired and stressed mind was having none of it.

While it was nice to catch up with some of the other Jedi, you always felt a bit out of place among the perfect members of the council. More so now than ever.

You ended up wandering back to the temple with Anakin where you both retired to his room and you flopped down onto his simple bed with a whine.

“Okay, what’s going on? You’ve been off all day” Anakin was the closest thing you had to a brother, you trained as Padawans together and due to your similar age you became fast friends. You knew about his marriage to Padme and decided that if you could offload your dilemma on anyone, it’d be him.

“I fucked up” you groaned out from behind your hands.

“What’d you do?” Anakin replied in a playful tone.

“I might’ve got a bit hot and heavy with one of the clones in my squad, led him on and then cut it off” Anakin raised an eyebrow at your confession. “And now he’s pissed at me”

“Why?” You weren’t entirely sure which part of that entire thing he was questioning.

“Because I started the whole thing, I wanted it. Then all of a sudden I did that whole guilty Jedi, must follow every word of the order thing, gave him some pathetic look which said really sorry I can’t have attachments mate, hope you understand. He called me out on it before I could even utter the banthashit excuse and then he stomped off and hasn’t spoken to me since.”

“In his defence, seems like he was probably wound a little tight” Anakin replied with a chuckle which you just groaned at.

“He has every right to be pissed. Hells, I would be if the roles were reversed. Whats with this whole self-righteous act us Jedi have going on?”

“Look, it’s hard being a Jedi at the best of times. It takes an inhumane amount of self-control, which is why its not a path for the weak. But being a Jedi while at war… it’s a lot. You’re emotions are running high, you’re forming bonds with soldiers on the battlefield that you shouldn’t be, but none of us can help it because it’s uncharted territory. Maker knows I’d hunt down anyone who hurt Obi-Wan or my Captain. Yes, It’s not the Jedi way, but neither is fighting a grand-scale war.” Anakin’s eyes were alive with emotion as he spoke, be he quickly caught himself and then it was gone.

“My point is, don’t beat yourself up so much. No one is getting kicked out the order or in his case reconditioned if that’s what you’re worried about. Figure out what it is you want, and then just be discreet about it” you looked at Anakin like he’d grown two heads, he just winked at your confused stare.

“Okay let’s keep it simple. Are you attracted to him?” You thought back to the night before and firmly nodded in response.

“Do you like him as a person?” You pondered his question.

“Well, it’s Cross. I wasn’t sure if he even liked me for a long time. He’s closed off, anti-social, but he’s also a good guy, cares about his brothers, has saved my ass multiple times, and he is kinda funny in his own, snide way” you rattled off with fondness in your words.

“Well then I suggest you go and talk to him.” Anakin replied, giving you a knowing look when he spotted the small smile on your lips as you spoke about the sniper.

You took a deep breath, glad to have finally gotten that off your chest and feeling content that you now knew what to do next. “Thanks, Ani”

“Ugh please don’t call me that” he moaned back, apparently only Padme was allowed to get away with that one.

————————————————

Your walk back to the Marauder felt like it dragged on and on. Your brain ran over a thousand scenarios of what to say, how he’d react and you were about to short circuit. There was so much risk, so much possibility, that you did your best to shut your mind off and let yourself handle it in the moment. These things never went as planned anyway, it was best not to guess.

The large door to the ship hissed open, your boots clanking on the metal surface as you cautiously walked into your home. It didn’t take you long to find Crosshair, he was sat in the main hull methodically cleaning his hand blaster. Everyone else must’ve been asleep. He was just in his blacks, the material hugging him in the most wonderful way, it’s like whoever designed those things was trying to trip you up. The contours of his arm muscles flexing as he worked, his strong chest looked practically chiselled at the heart of his lean frame. You had to force yourself to calm down a little bit.

“Uh, hey” you greeted awkwardly. “Mind if I join you?”

You took his silence as a well he’s not saying no. He didn’t spare you a glance as you walked in and took a seat opposite him. As a General in the GAR, you rarely got nervous. War, as a concept, was simple. You knew your purpose, your objective, you had a job to get done and you’d do it. The risks never stopped you, rather they fuelled you. Probably why you’re such a good fit for the bad batch.

But this right now, personal feelings, not knowing where you stand with someone you care about. Because if you were honest, you really did care about Crosshair, the same as you did the rest of the team. You’d only been with the squad just under a year but you’d gladly lay down your life for any of them in a heartbeat. If you could at least get back to where you were before the other night, you’d be over the moon.

You weren’t used to being so nervous, you let your hands fiddle with you dark Jedi robes as you readied yourself to speak again.

“Look, I’m not here to throw some crap about being a Jedi at you, I promise. And I’m sorry for trying it before” he still didn’t look at you, finding his blaster much more interesting. But you could tell he was listening, you had his attention. Might as well keep babbling.

“In terms of an explanation for what happened yesterday, well I guess I panicked.” You sighed as you tried to find the next words “The way you made me feel that night, I… I’ve never felt like that before and everything i’d been taught over the years screamed at me that what I was doing was dangerous and wrong. I now realise that I’m just an idiot. I make my own decisions and I… uh -well, I stick by that one, starting something that is.” Still nothing.

“I know this is probably a long shot. But in the interest of being transparent” you rambled “uh… if you want to go down that road again, I’m up for seeing what happens, can be as casual as we like. I promise I won’t freak out on you again.” You chuckled and thought you almost spotted a slight pull in the corner of Crosshair’s lips “But if you want to go back to how we were before, I’d also really like that.” You watched him for a while as he gave no acknowledgement of your words, his cleaning finished as he now gave the weapon a once over in his hands. Having said everything you needed, you got up from your seat, looking away from him.

“Well, if I can do anything else, let me know” you turned on your heel to leave, feeling slightly defeated but glad you’d at least made the first step.

“I could think of a few things” he finally spoke as he leaned back into his seat and continued to stare at his blaster, still not meeting your gaze.

Well that caught your attention, you turned back around to face him as he carried on ignoring you. While his tone was unbothered as he spoke, you knew him just enough to know his words held a meaning. He was playing with you, back to his usual teasing and you could’ve laughed at the relief that washed over you. This you could work with. A cheeky idea popped into your head and you’d decided to run with it.

“Oh really?” Throwing caution to the wind, you strode over to the sniper slowly. His gaze finally meeting yours after all this time, watching you as you got closer and closer. Practically drawing you in with his amber eyes. You pushed him back by his chest, creating enough room so you could straddle his lap. “Care to elaborate?”

He huffed out a short laugh at your words, his face overall unbothered but his eyes, they were burning into you. “You’re a smart girl, I’m sure you’ll figure it out”.

You hummed in response, deciding to kick things up a notch you wrapped your arms around his neck, bringing your faces just breaths apart. “Something like this?” You asked, pausing for another second before bringing your lips to his in a surprisingly soft and gentle kiss. You felt his hands come up to rest on your back, pulling you closer as you continued your slow dance. This was so different from the other night, where before there was desperation and lust, now there was something more… tender, passionate. You were quite glad you weren’t standing as the way he moved against you would’ve definitely made your knees weak.

Dragging yourself away from his lips, you searched his face. His mouth pulled into a barely there smirk “That’s a start.”

“Who said I was finished?” And just like that, the last few strands of tension between you both snapped and you relaxed in his arms. You fisted your hands into the front of his blacks and pulled him back to you, his tongue slipped between your lips, curious and demanding. He was everywhere again, filling your nose with the scent of the standard cheap GAR soap but mixed with something earthy, something so distinctly Crosshair and you couldn’t get enough.

You could tell why the Jedi order frowned upon such activities, kissing Crosshair was intoxicating. You couldn’t think of anything else other than the handsome clone in front of you and just how much you wanted him in that moment.

His hands wandered lower and lower down you back until they rested comfortably on your backside, pulling you further up his lap. Feeling mischievous, you started trailing kisses along his jaw. Setting a teasing, languid pace as you mapped out the spots that made him squirm. Crosshair was never a man of many words, so you made it your mission to see just how vocal you could make him.

As your lips met his pulse point, he gave a loud exhale and you smirked in victory against his skin as you continued the onslaught on his senses. You definitely seemed to be doing something right as his hands found themselves in your hair, clutching slightly and you couldn’t help the soft moan that escaped you. Even while trying to gain the upper hand in the situation, he always had some control over you. It was maddening in the best way, setting your veins alight with desire.

Determined to get another victory you traced your tongue against the base of the side of his neck and trailed it all the way up to the bottom of his ear, which you teasingly took into your mouth, teeth grazing the soft skin. A strangled moan escaped the clone and that was the moment where you knew you were hopelessly and utterly gone. Your mind filled with nothing other than wanting to be closer to Crosshair.

“Not very Jedi of you” he commented, slightly breathless when you finally stopped teasing him and came back up to meet his eyes. Looking down at where your bodies were pressed against one another, you chuckled.

“What exactly about this situation led you to believe I was ever a model Jedi?” You smirked, though it was only visible for a second before his mouth was back on yours, devouring you as his hands greedily roamed your body.

You continued making out like teenagers for most of the evening, taking the time to explore each other, enjoying the closeness. Contentment settled over your body, almost as if this was were you were meant to be. If Crosshair’s arms were where you belonged, well, you could think of worse places to be.

Back to Part 1

Back to Masterlist

[kpop-dungeon-dark]

REQUEST (Nerd!Felix/Yongbok x You)

•TRIGGER WARNING•

Warning(s): Non-Con, humiliation, degradation, brat taming, watersports, breath play, rough filthy shit. Read at own risk.

"If that isn't our little Yongbokkieeee~" Felix sighed and shut his eyes tightly when he heard the familiar dreadful voice from behind, holding the straps of his school bag even tighter. "Aigoooi~ aren't you in a hurry, foreign booooy?" Her perfectly manicured hand placed on the boy's shoulder, pulling him back.

"Let go, Y/n-ah…" The boy spoke, trying his best not to snap at the little slut. She was so foolish. A fucking clown. A narrow minded little racist bitch. That's what.

"Ahhhh… your Korean is soooo adorable…" Before she moved to stand in front of him, heavy tits tightly packed in her school shirt, the first few buttons up. "What's the rush, Aussie boy? Too proud to make friends? Tsk, tsk!" Felix felt like smacking her infuriatingly cute little face.

"You know it's not like tha-"

"LISTEN UP, EVERYONE!" Y/n clapped and got everyone's attention, the whole hallway of students going home stopping to look at her. "OUR FOREIGN BOY DOESN'T WANNA BE FRIENDS~" she pouted as if it really hurt her. "HE AVOIDED ME ALL DAY IN SCHOOL TOO! HOW PROUD, TSK!" Everyone booed him, calling him names and whatnot. It was terrible.

Had he known moving to Korea was going to be like this he'd have never agreed. They made fun of his looks, his accent, the grammatical errors he made and his English name that he preferred. Even though Felix was using his English name in his documents now that he was all grown up, Y/n had somehow learnt his Korean one and she wasn't going to let him live it down.

"Aigo what a loser" splashing the juice in her hand at his shirt, the girl clicked her tongue and walked away while laughing, leaving the boy in absolute despair due to how badly it stained his shirt.

He didn't want to hurt her because she was clearly fucking naive and dumb but fuck. Y/n was making it fucking hard.

.

Felix checked his room one last time to make sure it was clean and smelt nice with just the right amount of ventilation. Setting his books up on the foldable desks he'd set up on the bed, the boy opened up the other desk too. His mom had asked him if he could teach her bestfriend's child some English as they were apparently in the same year as him. The boy was happy to help and agreed so now his mom's friend was going to drop the kid off at their house that he didn't know anything about.

And who else could it be other than the one and only. How fucking cliche.

The male was unsure of how to act when he heard his mom's voice and another women's before his door was knocked, opening as Mrs. Lee along a stern looking tall and built women in a police uniform appeared.

Felix got up and respectfully bowed to the women as she greeted him back, her friendly smile really unusual for her stern features. "Hello, dear. Thank you so much for your kind gesture. I've been looking for a good teacher for quite some time now but my child is… slow." She chuckled. "Maybe it'd be easier for her if someone her age teaches her…"

"Oh, of course. No problem at all. I'd be actually very happy to help. That way I get to revise too and study from a different perspective, ma'am." He didn't know why, but he couldn't stop the smirk from appearing on his face. Oh. She was trying her best to hide behind her mother but Felix had seen the pathetic little girl.

Oh how fucking perfect.

"Ah I hope my kid can learn well from you in not just academics but manners too… Now! Y/n-ah- where…" Her mother looked for her before turning around to find her hiding, gripping her wrist and pulling her in front of the taller boy. "There you are. Now… learn well okay? Felix will take well care of you" her mother glanced at the boy and he nodded, bowing a little bit as he said of course.

Y/n was trying not to die as she was made to stand right in front of fucking Yongbok out of all! How was she so stupid?! She should have put two and two together! Oh fuck! This was bad! This was terrible for her image! Now he knew that she was looking for tuition and not all that careless about studies as she seemed to act like back in school. And she also wasn't a badass in her private life.

Fuck.

"Be good. I'll pick you up on my way back, alright?" The girl had non-existent balls to brat with her mother as she was a firm police woman and knew how to get brats going. She had gotten enough harsh punishments from her mom to even dare to try. Y/n did her best to pretend to be a good kid. Or her mom had threatened to send her off to juvi or a boarding school! "Hm?"

The girl whimpered, feeling the boy's gaze burn into her very soul. "Y- Yes, mommy." She could only whisper back, head lowered all the way.

"Good baby. Now give mommy a kiss." Y/n could die of embarrassment right now, her cheeks burning as she felt humiliated. Oh she had no idea what was coming her way. This was nothing. Her mother still treated her like a 4 year old baby and not like she was 18. It was so fucking stupid!

"Y- Yes, mommy…" There was no use hiding. Yongbok could see it all and he was quietly observing it. Standing on her tippy toes because of being much smaller than her mom, Y/n kissed her cheek. "Bye, mommy." The copper ruffled her daughter's head before leaving with Felix's mother who was also dressed for work.

Lowering her head even more when it was just the both of them, Y/n held her bag right as she didn't turn around, not wanting to face the smug boy, whimpering when he stepped forward to close his door.

"She… doesn't know, does she?" Felix's deep voice pierced through her soul as he turned around to look down at her now, grinning wide. "Tsk… look at this cute little turtleneck and long skirt… those baby shoes and these pigtails…" Y/n felt her heart starting to pound when he suddenly tugged at her twin ponytails, her cheeks feeling even hotter in pure humiliation. "If only you were actually a good babygirl like your 'mommy' thinks and not a skimpy little slutty whore ridiculing people for no fucking reason at school" clicking his tongue, the boy walked to his bed and plopped on it in a relaxed manner, well aware that he had her exactly where a bitch like her should be. "I wonder how she will react if she finds out that you are actually-"

"N- NO PLEASE!" Y/n finally found her voice and rushed to him, helplessly pleading. "PLEASE DON'T TELL M- MOMMY! I- I AM SORRY!" She struggled, not knowing what to say. This was so awkward and strange. Something she'd never thought of. Fuck.

"Ahhh so you really are an all talk whore, tsk. Acting all cool and fearless in school but actually a pathetic little mommy's baby." Felix chuckled tauntingly and shook his head, eyes cold. Months. She'd been troubling him for months simply because he was a foreigner and made mistakes in Korean. "Come here, let me see. I wouldn't be surprised if you're also wearing a nappy under that cute skirt. Do you need a change?" He teasingly went to grab her arm which caused the girl to stagger backwards.

"N- No! No, Y- Yon- Felix! I- I swear I am not! I am not wearing a-- p- please! Don't do this! I- I won't bother you again! You don't even have to tutor me! Just please don't tell mom!" Y/n hated how pathetically she had to beg him.

"Ah… so it's suddenly Felix now, huh?" The male chuckled before speaking again. "Since I am not a pathetic slut like you, I won't tell your mom but in exchange, you'll have to be good for me. If you oblige, good. If you don't, I'll have to tell her, little one. Because what you're doing will end up harming someone really bad."

The girl desperately dropped her bag, sitting in his feet and holding his knees. "Y- Yes! Yes! Alright! I'll be good! I'll do whatever you want! Just don't tell mom! I don't wanna go to juvi or boarding-" her eyes widened before she slapped her mouth shut. Oh no! She didn't just tell him that!

Felix threw his head back and laughed. "Ahhh so it's like that, I see…" He was enjoying this. Looking down at her, Felix felt something stir inside him as his eyes got darker. She looked so fucking perfect kneeling under him like this. It was getting so hard to hold back now that he had her. "Fine. If you don't want to go to boarding or juvi, you'll have to be my little fuck piggy. And when I say that, I mean it. You'll be my literal plaything and there will be no denying my orders. You'll have to obey and be good like a brainless little slave doll… You will only know what I allow. You will only do as I say. No using your own brain, not that it is very smart anyway… That is the price." He had always had… dark desires. Which was one of the reasons he'd never dated much. But when Felix had seen Y/n all those months ago in school for the first time, he had unintentionally imagined how it would feel to ruin her to the point of despair before building her back up.

And now that he was so close to having it. Fuck. The boy was going insane.

Y/n nodded slowly, tears forming in her eyes as she bit her lip. "Y- Yes, I… I agree. I- I'll be your d- doll, Felix… J- Just please d- don't tell anyone… I- I beg you… I- I don't wanna g- go to boarding or…" A sob left her, his finger catching her tear amidst of falling down.

This was so wrong. But she deserved it. Felix was absolutely disgusted by bullies.

"Don't worry. Like your mother said, I'll take goood care of you." The naive girl had no idea what she had signed herself up for or just what his words meant. "Then… why don't you prove your worth by getting up and stripping to let me see my belongings... And, get those dirty little hands off. Fuck toys don't deserve to touch Master unless allowed." Felix swatted them off.

"W- What? M- Master…? S- Strip?" Y/n was lost.

"What else did you think? Some Wattpad romance where I make you my little sidekick or something before I confess that I've liked you all along?" Raising an eyebrow he pushed her back. "Get to it."

"B- But F- Felix-!"

"It's Master!" The male firmly spoke as he glared down at her, yanking one of her pigtails. "Come on now… time's running and we don't have all day my little toy. You better start behaving before it's too late…" Her sobs and tears satisfied him so much.

Y/n slowly got up with her head lowered, trembling as she stepped out of her shoes, slowly pulling her socks off. "I- I can't believe I am doing this in front o- of you.." She whispered while struggling to not collapse on her knees, literally shivering under his firm gaze.

"I also couldn't believe a person as rotten as you existed." Before he grabbed the hem of her dress, pulling her closer and snorting when she gasped, flinching when he leaned back again. Felix's foot trailed up her shaking leg, the top of his foot rubbing against her covered core before he grabbed the waistband of her panties with his toes, pulling them down from under the skirt. "Ahh… so little girl's mommy really doesn't put her in nappies, I see…" Before he looked back up at her face, his foot resting on the underwear between her ankles now. "Skirt off now."

The girl was wiping at her tears as she shakily undid the skirt before letting it fall, her heart pounding even harder when the cold air attacked her core before he made her pull her shirt up and off, suddenly ripping her bra off which caused her to scream.

"Tsk… you sure are jumpy and scaredy for how tough you act." The boy shook his head, feeding off her misery. "Pick that underwear up." Y/n reached for it when he finally removed his foot from the top of it, stepping out of it and picking it up, even her ears red now out of humiliation. "Put it on your head." Another sob left her as he pinched and played with her breast, loving the authority he had over her.

"Fe- M- Master…" Shaking her head, she tried to back away but Felix wasn't having it.

"What did I just fucking say?!" He snapped, towering over her when the boy stood up, making her cower down before she put the smelly article over her head, biting her lips to stop her sobs from escaping. "Such a good toy…" Felix cooed this time, rubbing her head as he pulled it down and covered her eyes with the waistband, pulling her pigtails out of the sides.

"Fuck… you look good. Just how a dumb brainless slut should look." Fishing his phone out, he smirked. "This proves how you've no problem with being brainless. You look fucking retarded but you're doing it because Master said it. That's exactly what this is about. Obedience" before he suddenly kissed her briefly, making her gasp.

"Now~ smile wide for a picture…" Before he turned the camera on and stepped back, making sure her whole body was in frame. Fuck. Felix was so fucking painfully hard. "Come on… don't be shy" he taunted when she sobbed in protest, making him switch to video instead. "Fine, then." His taunting smile dropped to a firm expression as he approached her, placing his feet on hers before he smacked her face, catching it all on camera.

"Aigooo~" he mimicked her, smacking her other cheek, uncovering her eyes but still keeping the underwear on her head. He decided that it will be a new style for her. "Look at this whore~" Y/n's flushed cheeks now received some more slaps before he placed his hand on her nose and pushed it back, chuckling loudly. "Awww such a cute little fuck piggy we have here… she loves this doesn't she?" When she continued to cry, Felix smacked her head and pulled at the girl's ponytail. "DOESN'T SHE?"

"Y- Yes, Master! Yes!"

"Good girl" pushing her nose back to look like a pig's again, the male spat at it. "Now tell Master you're thankful. Get on your knees and be good."

"T- Thank you, M- Master…" The girl cried out, slowly getting on her knees now. "Thank you s- so much…" Felix parted her legs by his foot, cutting the footage and tossing his phone on the bed before kicking her pussy, causing Y/n to jerk forward, face banging straight into his cock.

A moan left him before he grabbed both her ponytails, wrapping them around his hands. "Now I have a present for you. I bought it all a while back and have been keeping it hidden and safe for when I get a fuck piggy. And now that you're here, I'll give you it."

Yes, Felix was pissed at her and yes, he loved destroying her but he was no asshole. She still had that cute little whore face he adored.

Crouching down in front of her, he gripped her chin and kissed her lips again, ignoring her gasp and kissing her again before spitting right on her tongue. "Swallow it and wait for Master to be back. Face down and ass up. I shouldn't have to fuckin repeat myself."

Y/n trembled as she struggled to swallow his spit, bowing down on the ground, slowly raising her nude ass back up. A few moments passed with Felix bringing stuff over and near her, fumbling with things in his closet before he finally closed it and walked to her. "Aren't you lucky? Finding an owner without even looking. There's so many pets like you who have no Master… or not a good one at least, you know…" Standing behind her, Felix rubbed the lube all over the tiny and thick piggy tail assplug. "Aren't you lucky?"

The girl knew what he wanted to hear so she nervously started, having no idea what the boy was about to do. "Y- Yes, Master… v- very luc- AHHHH!" She could only lay there and weakly cry as Felix laughed loudly at her scream because he'd pushed the plug in, tapping her ass.

"Good piggy~" the male cooed and hooked a thin chain to a small loop on top of the plug, slowly making her sit up in silence, the only sounds being her weak sobs. "Just… give in… it'll hurt less that way and you'll be happier." His eyes were trained on what he was doing, the long chain extending from down her plug having nose hooks at the other end that he plugged in her nose, chuckling when her eyes widened as she located the small cage in front of her.

"Oh, yeah. That is your new crib" Felix was clearly loving this. Kissing her stretched little piggy nose, he placed the pink piggy ears on her underwear covered head, followed by a pink collar that had a small bell attached to it. "You look so beautiful…" Kissing her lips again, Felix attached weights to her nipples, making her whine out in pain as she tried to stop his hands. "Oho~" he swatted her hands away, grabbing the piggy hands and feet before putting them on her, finally folding her limbs and binding them.

"Hmmm… that's like a good filthy little fuck pig." Before he attached a leash to her collar and gulped, feeling his balls ache now due to the masterpiece he'd made, pulling at the leash to have her crawl in the cage before he closed it, chuckling at how she kept tripping. "Clumsy pig." Before he started to take pictures, taunting and humiliating her all the while.

.

When Felix was satisfied with the photoshoot, he opened the cage and walked to the bed, holding her leash and pulling her with him. "Now… the fun part." Before he tucked his aching cock out much to her horror, sitting down on the bed and pulling her in between her legs. Pumping his cock a little, the male moaned loudly as he started to piss on her face, chuckling loudly when she yelled and protested, trying to move away but only falling on her face, choking when he harshly pulled at her leash, forcefully pushing his cock in her mouth. "You better swallow that!"

Y/n started crying loudly again, wails leaving her throat as his hot piss started travelling down her throat, making her choke and gag as he loudly laughed. "What a useless piggy! Can't even be a good urinal." Before he smacked her face again, now starting to fuck her mouth fast and rough, hitting his hard tip against the back of her throat before forcefully pushing in, a trail of piss and spit hanging down her lips.

"Fuck… fuck…" Felix moaned loudly, his cock twitching inside of her and pulsating from how fucking good it felt. From her soft mouth to her tight throat, to how he could see his cock against her skin, her eyes widened when her breath supply would totally cut off from his balls getting stuffed between her lips.

"Fuck… you're no good… I'll have to train you plenty" her cries were causing shivers and vibrations up his cock as he fucked her face up and down his cock by her ponytails, kicking her pussy as he went faster and faster, his hips starting to ache from how much strength it was causing.

"What a dumb slut!" Pulling his cock out of her throat, he kicked her on her back, making her arch her back when the tail plug brushed against the floor. "I need that useless fucking pussy now. It better be worth it." Y/n felt scared and nervous for her vagina now as he warned and crawled over her now, pushing his way forcefully inside, biting down at her lip when he felt her hymen tear and lube his cock up.

"I am going to make an absolute mess out of you." He promised, his deep voice sending shivers down her sweaty body. "My mess."

.

I am sorry if it was too rough sjskso you said like bullying gone wrong-

[thefanficmonster]

Rumors

Corpse Husband x Bimbo!Reader (Female)

Warnings: Mentions of Slut Shaming, Swearing

Genre: Fluff, Tiniest bit of Angst, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: When some rumors start floating around, every content creator does their best to either ignore them or defuse the situation. However, sometimes, the fans attempt to do the defusing themselves which only leads to a worse disaster. That’s the case for Corpse whose fans were quick to jump to his protection of some ‘false’ rumors.

Requested by Anon. Hi dear! Thank you so much for your request, it was a joy to write. I’m sorry for how long it has taken me to complete and post the fic but here it finally is and I hope you enjoy reading it at least half as much as I enjoyed writing it! Love, Vy ❤

Corpse cracks his knuckles, then his shoulders, then his collarbone, then the his neck. He clenches his jaw as he breathes steadily and rhythmically, trying to control an overwhelming wave of anger that he has never felt before. This is a situation he’s never had to deal with nor did he ever think he’d have to deal with and address on a fucking livestream on top of all, but here he is now, doing his best to count to ten and not go on a Twitter responding spree, calling people out on their bullshit. He wanted to do so, he still wants to, but he was stopped in his intentions and brought to a calm mindset where he was swayed into dealing with this the civil way and not by roasting the fuck out of any and every foul-mouthed person he’s seen on his Twitter timeline.

He can’t really guarantee and civility during the stream either, he’s aware his tolerance is as thin as a stretched out, old rubber band and is a slight tug away from snapping and allowing him to unleash hell on these people because of who he’s been seeing red these past few days. 

Let’s not risk a misunderstanding here - Corpse absolutely loves and adores his fans, but seeing this behavior from them is quite upsetting and disappointing. When he uses the terms like ‘assholes’, ‘jerks’ and ‘rude motherfuckers’ he isn’t referring to them. He knows they are good people, but are using the completely wrong tactic of defending him, not to mention he doesn’t even need defending. Even if he did, he’s more than capable of doing it on his own and not getting other people involved.

“Hello everyone, hope you’re doing well.“ He finally settles on saying, officially kicking off the stream. If there’s any indicator of the serious nature of this stream, it’s probably the lack of lo-fi and the lack of even attempted playfulness and cheeriness in his voice. That’s how you know shit isn’t to be messed around about. “I just realized I didn’t specify what I’ll be doing in the Tweet, but I’ll tell you now, so those who aren’t interested in the subject or want to steer clear of the drama can leave. However, I wouldn’t advise clicking off considering this will be an overall, how do I say this, rant, of sorts? It’s meant to knock some sense in the people who have been spreading hate for a specific person on all social media platforms she’s active on.“

The majority of the viewers are already familiar with the subject, some even guilty of spreading the hate Corpse mentioned, but there are a few that are completely clueless - the ones actually not interested in online drama, not just saying they ‘hate drama’. With those people in mind, Corpse takes to addressing the issue from its very beginning.

“So, for a month now, me and this streamer, who’s also a TikTok star, by the name of Y/N have been interacting a lot on social media. She’s an incredibly sweet girl that a lot of people have prejudice towards. She’s very misjudged and misunderstood because people see he solely as her content, if that makes sense. They only know she’s that streamer who wears revealing clothes on her streams and posts risqué pictures on her Instagram. Like, no.“ Corpse cannot even fully believe he has to address this and that slut-shaming people is still a thing in the twenty-first century. He closes his eyes for a moment, fist tightening and his knuckles turning white, “I don’t understand how so many people can be so shallow and just plain jerks towards her in general, but then again - this is especially for my fans, the members of my fandom - I don’t understand the need you guys feel to put Y/N down to defend me from some ridiculous rumors as if it’s the first time I’ve had to deal with people talking shit for attention or to get someone canceled.“ He sighs, reminding himself to slow his roll as to not confuse any viewers who still don’t know the full story, “Anyway, back to the timeline of events. So, considering we’ve never interacted before, all the replying to comments, retweeting, liking posts and whatever sparked some dating rumors. Isn’t that just fucking hilarious - you see two people interacting on social media and the first thing that comes to mind is that they’re in a romantic relationship. Where did the friendship go? Does no one value or consider friendships to be a valid type of human relation anymore?“ He runs a hand through his hair, making another pause to clear his mind and prevent his frustration from overflowing. He promised he wouldn’t lose his cool and would remain calm and collected, but the more he talks about it the tighter he clenches his fist and the faster his heartrate is. His neck and ears are red from the tension he feels all over, almost like he’s physically restraining a raging wild animal and not just his own thoughts and emotions.

There’s layers to his anger, the lower ones - aka the ones he’s yet to get to - will be a nightmarish test of his self-control, he already knows it. Judging by how much of a toll this rant has already taken on him, his patience and control growing thinner and thinner, he’s not sure how he’ll power through the last layers without his voice raising awfully high in volume and his fists searching for some object to punch. To an ignorant eye, his reaction would seem exaggerated and overboard, but little does that ignorant eye know...

“When some of my fans saw those rumors, they reacted very badly. It was quite disappointing to see. Guys, I appreciate you standing up for me even though you shouldn’t do that - I can defend myself, not that this was a matter I needed defending from to begin with. But just the way some of you went about it was horrifically wrong and quite upsetting, to me but especially to Y/N herself.“ He can feel it, the aggravation growing, bubbling up in his chest, “What I saw disgusted me, I’m not gonna sugarcoat it. The things some of you were saying...I couldn’t believe you are in fact the same people who are my fans, my lovely fans who I’ve always thought so highly of. Never did I think you could be able of slut-shaming so vulgarly and grossly, I couldn’t believe what I was reading.“

He has every right to be upset - the things being said about Y/N were truly awful and a lot of things being said were meant to defend Corpse and defuse the rumors, doing so while stomping all over Y/N and her content. Rightfully so, many of her fans were outraged and quick to jump to her defense but were unfortunately outnumbered, leading Corpse to believe not many of her fans are actually real or as dedicated as his which only fueled his fury further.

Anyway, let’s take a look at Y/N’s point of view. Being a content creator for as long as she has, refusing to change her style no matter how many people disagreed and insulted her about it, she’s grown quite used to people spitting insults at her on every social media possible. It’s sad how throughout the majority of her content creating career she’s only had haters, creeps and fake fans watching her videos and streams. Rare are those in her fandom who’d actually stick up for her and defend her in ‘scandals’ such as this one. However, no amount of experience with dealing with hate could have prepared her for this outpour of some of the meanest shit she’s ever heard and been called in her life.

Y/N likes the content she makes, she’s comfortable in her skin and loves her body. She loves showing it off too and nor she nor anyone who wants that deserves to be shamed for who they are and what they do, especially when they aren’t hurting anyone and their content is still appropriate. People have always bashed her for all elements of who she is: her appearance, her clothing style, her streams, her gaming skills, her voice on occasion. She can count the instances when she’s received positive feedback on the fingers of her hands which would depress anyone else but not her. She’s always created content for her own amusement and entertainment so people’s opinions never really bothered her. Until now, until this very drama that has hit a specific nerve, an insecurity of hers she’s never talked about. The comments such as:

(Vy Speaking: Comments containing slut-shaming ahead, go to ### if you want to skip)

“Corpse would never date a slut like her“

“Corpse dating this thot? Please internet stop being ridiculous“

“Corpse ain’t a pimp, y’all need to chill“

“Even if they datin they gon break up soon - whore stays a whore“

###

bothered her far more than she’d like to admit. She has no one to open up about it either, she knows what she’ll get in response if she does - she’ll be told it’s her fault. Her fault because of the way she dresses, the way she talks and acts, because she chose this career to begin with. All her fault. The only person she can turn to she refuses to because she doesn’t want to be a bother - not after so many people confirmed her worries that she’s not good enough for him already anyway, the least she can do is avoid bothering him the best she can.

And that is exactly why this has upset Corpse so much.

“Here’s a little message specifically meant for those who claimed I’d never date someone like Y/N or specifically Y/N. You better listen carefully: Don’t you ever, and I mean EVER slut-shame my girlfriend or any other person ever. I cannot believe I have to explicitly remind you that your behavior isn’t ok. You should fucking know that your behavior isn’t right and that you’re a massive piece of shit for saying those awful things about others you judge solely on appearance and clothing. Does it surprise you that I am, in fact, dating Y/N? If you say yes for the reason you think she’s not good enough for me or that I deserve better, please get the fuck out of my fandom. No one disrespects my girl and gets away with it. That’s final!“

Though still under the influence of a flurry of negative emotions, overhearing Corpse literally telling people to exclude themselves from his fandom for being mean to her, Y/N’s taking a step towards emotional recovery knowing her boyfriend will always have her back. He’ll always be there to prove people wrong, defend her and stand by her. He’ll be there to catch her when the hate knocks her off her feet.

But most importantly: he’ll never ask her to change. Not her style, not her clothes, not her personality, nothing. He fell for her the way she is and for who she is, and he will never allow anyone to try to change her either. For someone who’s never had much support all her life, a single speck of support overpowers all the hate within the blink of an eye. Corpse will always be her knight in shining armor, the knight who defeated all the hateful demons by just entering her life. And though she’s still struggling with the ‘Am I good enough for someone so wonderful?’ and ‘He deserves better, doesn’t he?’ questions, with his hand holding hers, she’ll never let those doubts and insecurities overpower her.

@maat-the-prescriptive  @simonsbluee  @save-the-sky  @itsminniekat  @hacker-ghost  @bi-andready-tocry  @imtiredaffff  @jazzkaurtheglorious  @hereforbeebo  @fandomgirl17  @chrysanthykios  @maehemscorpyus  @loraleiix  @letsloveimagines  @annshit  @i-cant-choose-a-username-help  @enigmaticmaze  @divine-artemis  @waterlilypat  @idontknowwhatthisisfam  @evi-ka  @classyandfabulous00  @redperson58  @lilysdaydreams @solowheein  @mythicalamphitrite  @axen-gers  @luckygirl144  @nj01  @buddyemily   @the-albino-lioness  @stardream14  @gdhdkfnn  @nomadicgypsyy  @preciousskye  @fluffysuicideunicornsworld  @o-kaelin  @manacharlotte  @awkward-youtube-trash  @lolalee24  @bonky-beerns  @meme-lord-and-savior-sebastian  @strawbrinkofdeath  @teenloves  @tams0527  @browneyespinkhair  @starstruckllamapuppy  @daisychains012  @y0ulooked  @tinytacosuitcaseflap @supernatural-is-my-only-life  @jula-pauline  @melodykitty  @just-that-bi-girl  @crazybutconfidentaf  @lowellshade @alphakees  @bellero  @weallneednamjesus  @starryhanji  @boiled-onionrings  @husherstan  @fockingwhore  @melaningoddessthings  @prettypastelpetals  @haleypearce  @godwhyamiawkward  @y-napotat  @daisychainyoonmin  @little-miss-rebel3  @free-wheelin-bi-sexual  @redmoon261 @darkacademic2  @wiseflamingoqueen  @into-the-end  @namikhai-i  @nastiablr  @thelittleplantlover  @mirktuan  @dont-hyuck @jjk-bunny  @vintagegothlover  @easygoingtheatre  @itsrandombooklover  @miiaivi  @emmybaybee  @befourgolden  @jjk-is-my-shit  @eternalteaaars  @spacebadgerx  @princesslunalight  @acequinn14  @samm48  @misselsbells06 @simp-lykawa  @fo-love  @marishimomura-blog  @therealglenncoco  @cinnamonbun332  @killtherandomness  @sanshinexxxsan  @fee-btheweeb  @press-lay  @cathleenpotgieter16  @jazzydoesstuff  @moonlxghtbay  @forestrain2000  @hyunjinhugs  @blood-of-fandoms  @lovellylies  @ukiyolixx  @simpforhpcharacters  @chrisdylan17  @parkerjisung  @pedernille  @theodonyous  @wineandionysus  @malfoystilinskii05  @morbid-x  @coryisagee  @jessewa26  @scoobydooluver97 @mindintheskies365  @raeanneinwonderland  @indecisive-empanada  @gluttonypalace  @loriane2503  @btsiguess-kpop  @khaoticbunny  @lucidlycactus  @smiithys  @rottenroyalebooks  @kpopgirlbtssvt  @fangirl-tc27  @fr0z3n-1  @notmesimpingfortechno  @shotarosleftpinky  @kunoi-chan  @idk-whats-wrong-with-me  @yikeroonie  @goldenstarofthunderclan  @poetry-and-tea  @ama-do-writing-stuff  @wishbonewolf  @emeraldxhope  @t0xick1tty  @kusuinko  @speakyourselfloveyourself  @sophia902103  @lo-manburg  @classsykittykat  @dmgama  @depressedpuppythatneedscoffee  @btsiguess-kpop  @akaashi-baby  @gun-jong-simp  @geschichtenfee  @yerapotato-wp  @browneyedgirl365  @thysagclub  @sparklycloudnight  @helloatomicshadow  @queentorresstuff @vtte @val-gal  @lucy-bunny17  @aaliyahh0  @katluckybear  @boyleanti  @straybids  @franchesca-791  @cosmicstorm19  @averyisbackinthetrashcan  @hisokaslefttiti