#I wanna draw something fully painted with him soon

[hedgehogofspades]

Some Simons

[wooahaes]

dream a little dream with me

pairing: non-idol!jeonghan x gn!reader

prompt: soulmate au series. 9/13

word count: 4.7k~

warnings: skinship. food mentions. some slight angst.

daisy’s notes: oh to have a soulmate i meet with in my dreams...

summary: Jeonghan knows you. He might not know your face, but you’re the person in his dreams every night. And frankly… he’s pretty sure he’s already falling for you. He just has to figure out how to find you when the world won’t let him trade names or locations or anything he can actually use. At least he knows your favorite things…

"Hello...?"

Jeonghan was maybe thirteen when he finally met you for the first time, and you'd already proven him wrong with your existence alone. When he had turned ten, he expected to feel... something. To lose all the colors within his vision, or maybe he would feel your pain or something physical. A name, your first thoughts, your first words... Except he felt nothing. It'd upset him, sure--most people were upset by that kind of thing just on the account of being considered an outsider to their peers. Yet now he'd found himself in a museum filled with paintings he couldn't fully make out, and surrounded by people with blurry faces... Except for you.

He'd blinked. "Hello?"

And you lit up, making your way over to him. "You're...?"

Jeonghan had furrowed his brow, watching you carefully. Why could he see you...? "I'm Jeonghan," he had said, thinking that was what you meant.

You'd given him your given name, too--last name melting into white noise for a second. For a moment, you stood there, brimming with excitement. "We're--We're soulmates."

Immediately, he'd felt lighter at the revelation. "Oh!" Then he paused, brows drawing together once more as a follow-up thought pushed into his head immediately. "Why haven't we met before?"

He'd seen the way you grew more upset, gaze no longer meet his own. "I'm... It's complicated." You wrapped your arms around yourself. "I think... Our sleep schedules don't overlap?" You looked up. "I laid down to take a nap for a bit because I was feeling sick, so..."

So you weren't near him. He felt a sting of rejection, even though you hadn't said anything of the sort.. Emotions were weird at thirteen, after all, and something like his soulmate not being near him. Obviously, it wasn't your fault: you didn't pick where you lived. He looked around, and felt... awkward. It was different than meeting someone for the first time in reality. At least other people were around. Now, it just you and him in this dream together.

"Do you wanna talk?" He said after a moment. "Since... I don't know if I'll get to see you again."

"You aren't mad?"

He shook his head. "I just wish you were closer," he crossed his arms. "This isn't fair."

You frowned. "It's not... So let's talk."

The two of you strolled on your own, getting to know one another. He learned the country you were from, even though he wouldn't know what city or town you were in. He learned about this doughnut place in your hometown, though, that you loved to visit when you could. He told you school stories and about his own friends, about the pranks he'd pulled on his little sister... Little things to learn about one another. He learned your favorite color, you learned the foods he disliked...

And then all too soon, you had disappeared within seconds. He had called for you, only to realize that you must have woken up--or been woken up, since it was so sudden. When he woke up the next morning for school, he told his parents that he'd met his soulmate in his dreams (even though he couldn't fully remember your face once he was awake).

Thus began the cycle. He probably needed the naps he would start taking in an attempt to meet you again, but he'd grown used to pushing through his fatigue to work on schoolwork or to spend time with friends. Yet his parents always knew where he'd be when they came home from work, finding him asleep on his bed as he hoped to meet you again.

Sometimes it worked. Sometimes he could sit with you for a little while, long enough to see you off before you woke up for your own schooling. Other times, he'd get home far too late to see you. But every time the two of you met over the rest of your teenage years, you made it work. The two of you would talk more about yourselves, getting to know each other better. He learned how to tell when you were upset, and would let you vent if you needed to. You'd given him a space to talk freely about his own feelings, too: the things that made him happy, or the things that were worrying him in real life...

Most people didn't know about his 'other' life in his dreams. The one where the two of you would go on walks in a city, sometimes holding hands. He'd slowly begun to fall for you over time, realizing that the care you showed him was sweet. The two of you had been strangers years ago, and now he understood maybe that was why the two of you were soulmates.

When he tried to kiss you around eighteen, you stopped him.

"I wanna kiss you for real," you said to him, holding his hands. "I know it's unfair to ask you to wait for me, but--"

"I will." He hadn't hesitated. Although he had kissed a girl once before (he was fifteen, and he realized after he did it that he'd much rather be kissing the person in his dreams) and told you so, he'd held off on dating. He wanted to experience things with you.

You'd squeezed his hands. "You don't have to."

Were you rejecting him...? What if he started dating someone and he loved them more than he already loved you? Part of him felt like he knew he would leave that person if he met you face-to-face, and yet... That meant he would hurt someone else. He'd heard stories about soulmates who left partners to be with one another, and while they were happy, the people left behind grew to resent them. Could he really do that to another person?

"You don't want me to?" He'd pulled his hands from yours, feeling the tiny sting in his chest.

You shook your head. "No, I--I just don't want you to wait around for me forever. What if we never meet?"

But what if we do? Jeonghan felt his heart sink in his chest. "We will," he said. Jeonghan never considered himself a hopeless romantic, but he had the naivete of a eighteen-year-old on his side. "I'll find you. I promise."

Before you could say something, you had begun to fade again. You were waking up. "Jeonghan--"

And then you were gone.

The first person Jeonghan had told about you was one of his college roommates, Joshua. He'd been listening to the way he'd been venting about how he felt he was annoying his soulmate whenever he sang, and waited until Seungcheol left for class to finally admit it out loud. He'd tell Seungcheol, too, soon: he just... needed to do it at his own pace. Both of his roommates seemed like good people who wouldn't judge him, but he'd already decided. Joshua first, and then Seungcheol. Deciding on that had made it easier, especially since Seungcheol was the busier of the two.

"My soulmate and I share dreams," he had said, pushing around the noodles in his ramyeon cup.

Joshua looked up. "Oh. Really?"

He nodded. "We talk whenever we can. It's hard. They're not from here. Depending on when I take a nap, I can either talk to them for a while or just ten minutes..."

"It sounds hard," Joshua nodded along. He'd sat backwards in his chair, leaning against the back of it with his chest, arms folded over the top. "So what are you doing to find them?"

Jeonghan said nothing.

"... Aren't you going to look for them?"

Jeonghan's gaze flickered up from his food. "I don't know. I don't know if they actually want to be found."

"That's--"

"We talked about it last time we met, a little over a year ago." He pushed around noodles more, never actually eating. "I'm in love with them. I don't know how they feel, although they said they'd rather kiss me for real when we meet. Then they said not to wait for them."

"It sounds like they're in love with you, too," he said.

Jeonghan rolled his eyes. "Then why tell me not to wait?"

"Well... They're not from here." Joshua rested his chin on his arms. "Maybe they don't want you to feel like you can't date or anything."

"Don't you think I've tried it before?" Jeonghan looked up. "After they said that, I tried to move on, and I spent the entire time comparing her to my soulmate. She's not them."

Joshua frowned. "Dude... If you spend the entire time comparing, them, you're not going to be happy--"

"I know that." Jeonghan let out a sigh. "I just... I tried being with other people. She wasn't the only girl I tried to date--or see at all." They're just my soulmate, and I realized how much I love them every time I try to be with someone else. But would Joshua understand that...? Or would he just sound over-dramatic for someone he'd never met in person?

"I... see." Joshua looked off. "I guess it's different when you know your soulmate."

Jeonghan softened a little when he saw the guilt on Joshua's face. "It's fine," he said. "I just... I wish I could go to them. I don't know where they are, exactly, and it's not like I can go find them."

Can't you? He pushed away the thought. The world was big. .He couldn't just go out and find you--at least, not without looking like a creep. As much as he wished he could just let go of that desire deep within him to be with you, even temporarily, he just couldn't. Not when he'd gotten to know you so deeply. He felt as though a part of him would always be with you now, and that he carried you with him wherever he went.

Joshua understood, though. He listened, and he gave Jeonghan his thoughts whenever he asked for him. Seungcheol would eventually do the same, once Jeonghan told him about his soulmate. Seungcheol hadn't shown any offense to not being told (it was Jeonghan's business, after all). And in the moments in-between, Jeonghan was with you in some way--either thoughts preoccupied with you or in the fleeting moments of sharing a dream space.

"I kissed someone," you confessed at one point. Jeonghan had been sitting underneath a tree with you, fashioning a flower crown out of the little yellow blossoms that littered the ground around him. You craned your neck to look at him, "Are you mad...?"

He shook his head. "Do you like this?"

At first, you didn't move, and he felt his heart falter. "I dunno," you confessed a moment later. "I feel like... Every person I meet, I keep comparing them to you. Like... Hannie would laugh at this joke. Or Hannie would think this. It's like... I can't get you out of my head."

His heart skipped a beat this time as he stared at you, his face growing redder by the second. "... Really?"

"I... I dunno. It's just--I don't want you to think I'm some sort of loser when we meet."

When. Not if. "So you want to find me?"

He saw the way you grew more flustered, eyes landing anywhere but him as you pushed yourself up so that you were sitting. "Yes. Are you mad?" You finally met his gaze. "I mean... I think I hurt you before. When I told you not to wait for me? And we never talked about it, so..."

Jeonghan set the flower crown into his lap, reaching out to cup your cheek. "I'm not mad," he said softly. "Not anymore."

"So you were mad."

He nodded a little after a moment. "At first..." He drew his hand back, shifting over so that he could sit closer to you. "At first I was hurt," he said, "because I thought you didn't want to find me. And... And I really wanted to kiss you, so I thought you were rejecting me, and.. I talked to my friends about it and they told me that it was alright to feel hurt, but that I was making assumptions about how you felt. So..." He dropped his hand down, pressing his palms into the grass. "How do you feel?"

"I've always wanted to meet you," you said outright. "But... I was talking to a few friends, and they kept asking questions about where you lived, and whether we'd get the chance to meet. It felt kinda mean," you moved closer, pressing your back against the tree, so that you could sit next to Jeonghan. "Like... They don't get a guarantee that they'll meet their soulmates. What makes us different?"

"Well, we know each other," he said, hand slipping into your own. "It's easier to accept things if you don't know your soulmate."

"I guess," you nodded along. "But... I dunno, it just made me anxious that we'd never be able to find each other."

"We will," Jeonghan said softly. "We'll make it work. I want to try."

Your hand curled around his, squeezing it tighter. "I want to try, too," you said, firm in what you were committing to. "Hannie?" You paused for a moment, "Jeonghan...? I want to be with you. I know we've never met in person, but can we...?"

He nodded. "Yes," he breathed out, reaching his other hand up to turn your face toward him. "May I...?"

You closed the distance between the two of you. It left him wondering if your lips would be this soft in reality. The last thing he heard was the sound of you saying his name, about to say something else when he found himself back in his couch, heart racing in his chest. He had jolted forward, fully awake out of nowhere, enough that it alerted Joshua and Seungcheol. The two were sitting at their little dinner table when they turned to see Jeonghan.

"... Bad dream?" Joshua called out.

Jeonghan just bolted to his bedroom, shutting himself in as he processed what all just happened. You kissed him. You wanted to be more. You wanted to find him.

And, fuck, he was going to do anything to find you now.

Most people gave Jeonghan weird looks when he explained his relationship to them. Yes, he hadn't met you in real life yet. No, it didn't really do anything to the relationship--it limited your dates, sure, but you had fun manipulating the dreamscape together to go wherever you wanted to go. Amusement parks with no waits for the rides, or this little cafe in your hometown, or a lovely park at night that Jeonghan walked through alone and wished you were there with him in reality. There were plenty of downsides, sure--neither of you could taste the food that you were eating, or feel the wind on your face--but you made it work and resolved to live these out once you found your way to each other. Sometimes people tried to challenge him: how could he have a relationship entirely with someone in his dreams? Didn't he miss the physical contact?

Which... The answer was a resounded 'yes,' but also it was none of their business. The two of you made it work, end of story. He'd eventually had a friend circle that accepted his relationship with his soulmate, although he'd become insistent that (when Seungkwan met his soulmate) his experience didn't count. That the two of you had agreed that your 'day one' of your relationship would be the day that you met face to face, just to make it easier to pin down a date. Everyone else had a date they could use as an anniversary, and you... Well, you and Jeonghan were different.

Although things had changed years later. All he knew at first was that he went to sleep one night, and you were there.

"... Jeonghan?"

And he'd stared at you, your name slipping from his mouth as he rushed over to you. "Are you sick again?" He frowned. "Honey, I wish I could be there to--"

"No, I... I moved. Remember?"

Right. You... You told him that you were moving for a job opportunity. It'd saddened him a little in the moment because both of you knew it'd make meeting harder, and yet all of that seemed to fade away in an instant.

"So you're...?" He didn't want to speak it aloud. What if it weren't true? What if...?

You nodded slowly. "I think... I'm closer," you said. "I'm in--"

The next few words seemed to dissolve into nothing, like his brain refused to register them. Jeonghan took your face into his hands, tears wetting his cheeks as he shook his head. Why can't it just work? Why can't their connection just let them have this now? You were closer to him. That should mean that the two of you can freely talk, and yet all he could hear was muffled words that he couldn't make out at all.

"We can't," he said, "we'll just... We'll have to find a way without saying names."

It broke his heart every time he saw you cry, and this time was worse. You nodded, though, hands coming up to hold his. "We'll find a way," you said. "Saturdays. I'll... I'll wait for you somewhere." Another name became muffled when you spoke it aloud, and you loudly swore as you broke away from him. "Coffee," you said, turning to him. "I'll... I'll always go to the same place near--" Again, your voice cut out. "Fuck--Just start looking, and--and we'll figure it out if it doesn't work."

"You'll stay there?" He watched you carefully. "All day?"

An eager nod, motivated by how close the two of you were now. "All day. Every Saturday until I find you."

And so it began.

Jeonghan... truly underestimated how many coffee places existed in this fucking city. But he went out every Saturday morning and spent hours upon hours searching for you. For months, that search came up empty. Joshua had offered to help, but Jeonghan turned both he and Seungcheol (and everyone, for that matter) down. He needed to find you himself. Maybe it was hubris, or maybe it was because he wanted to be the first one to meet you... He wasn't exactly sure anymore. A mix of both, perhaps. You could meet his friends in time, but Jeonghan didn't want anyone else to see you in person before he did. He'd known you this long. He'd been with you this long. He needed to be the first one to see you.

Three months ago, Chan met his soulmate. How much longer would it take for Jeonghan to find you? He approached the last place on his list for today, night having already fallen upon him. Maybe he'd change places with you, and have you running around looking for him. He'd try to pick somewhere more niche, though, just to make it easier on you. Jeonghan tucked his hands into his jacket pocket, staring down at his phone as he followed the directions to this place. It was a little out of the way, but maybe if he made it in time, he'd be able to swing by the bigger place not far from there. It closed earlier, sure, but it usually had way more foot traffic from what he could tell.

The thought that had been haunting him hit him again: would you even like him when you saw him in person? It'd been something stupid that popped into his head one Saturday a month ago, but it still shook him a little more than he expected. He'd seen you in so, so many dreams; he'd been with you, dating you, and yet it felt like there was a degree of separation. Those were his dreams with you, this was the real world where other people would get in the way. Where he couldn't just go to that cafe in your hometown with you, giggling about a silly joke one of you cracked, without having to travel to get there. He'd confessed his fears to Joshua once day, and Joshua had just stared at him.

"But you're in love with them."

"I know, but what if they don't love me once they see me?" Jeonghan had been curled up on Joshua's couch that night, a blanket draped around him. He toyed with the edge of it, fingers curling around the plush material. "It's different, I think."

Joshua pinched the bridge of his nose. "Oh my god. You're so stupid."

"Hey--"

"Jeonghan." Joshua turned, entirely serious as he leaned in, "They love you, dumbass. I know your dreams are magical or whatever, but they still like being with you. You told me they trust you enough to cry on you and tell you about how bad work was, or about friend troubles, or enough to just say they need to cry because of stress. If things change when they see you, they weren't really in love with you. Dreams are whatever--you're still you."

Jeonghan had said nothing at first, letting the words sink in. Then when he looked up, he saw Joshua looking off into the distance, eyes fluttering shut for a moment. "They're singing, aren't they?"

Joshua cracked a smile. Jeonghan knew him well enough. "It's quiet," he said, "but... Yeah. They are."

Jeonghan knew that while Joshua was the one who sang more often in his relationship, he truly loved whenever his soulmate would sing. He knew that Joshua had told them that, and they chose to indulge him in it a little more often. Jeonghan should take a video or a picture of this and send it to them: you broke your soulmate, btw, come get him. Then again... Joshua definitely had ammunition of his own. Videos of times where Jeonghan had woken up in a pleasant mood because he'd gone on a date with you yet again, always ending with Joshua telling the camera that he was ready for the two of you to meet already.

At the end of the street on the left. Jeonghan had begun to hurry at this point, already feeling his heart sinking in his chest. No. No, no, no, fuck--The lights were out, and no one was inside despite the website saying that this place stayed open for another two hours. There had been a piece of paper taped up on a window that said something about one of the coffee machines breaking down and causing a big enough mess that they'd have to close for the night. Shit. What if this had been the one? What if you were inside when the coffee machine broke, spraying hot coffee everywhere? What if you had been burned? Jeonghan wanted to kick himself for not getting here sooner, but he looked at the other shop that closed in less than ten minutes. Fuck. Next Saturday for sure. Maybe that would be the one.

He did what he always did. He called Joshua, and told him that, yet again, he had failed to find you.

"Aw. I'm sorry, dude," Joshua had said. "Are you sure you don't want us to help out?"

Before Jeonghan could respond, Seungcheol had spoken up, "We will! Just tell us where to go, and we'll find them. There's too many places for you to do it on your own. Stop being stubborn about this."

Jeonghan chuckled softly, glad that he had friends who cared so deeply about him. "No, it's fine. We'll find each other soon. I can feel it. We'll talk about it tonight and see if they can give me any details."

Of course, you hadn't before. Whatever was keeping the two of you from finding each other made sure of that. But they didn't need to know how many failed attempts Jeonghan had made at this point.

"Are you sure?" Seungcheol sighed. "I just don't want you to feel like you need to do this alone. We're all here for you. If you say the word to Seungkwan--"

Another warm chuckle. "He'll storm every shop himself," Jeonghan said. "That's why I haven't told anyone else yet. You know Mingyu would go out searching without telling any of us."

"You sound exhausted," Joshua spoke up after a moment. "Want one of us to pick you up?"

"I'll just take the bus. I think I'll plan my next move during the ride." Jeonghan tucked his other hand back into his pocket. He needed the time to lick his wounds and pick himself back up, too. "Maybe... I'll figure out a new plan."

"Just call me if you change your mind," Seungcheol said. "Get home safely."

"I will," Jeonghan said, and ended the call. He shoved his phone into his pocket, and let out a sigh.

Okay. Another failed Saturday. Jeonghan wouldn't lose hope, though: he'd find you soon enough. It wouldn't be as soon as he planned, but he would find you, and he would kiss you, and he'd never let anything tear the two of you apart like this ever again. Even with work trips and vacations and whatnot, Jeonghan would be happy to see your face again outside of his dreams.

The bus had slowed to a stop, and Jeonghan climbed on before taking a seat near the back. He leaned against the window, watching the city crawl by once the bus had lurched forward again. If the two of you could pick something less common, maybe you'd find one another sooner. He leaned against the window, watching the city crawl by as his eyelids began to droop. Next Saturday. He hugged himself tighter. Next Saturday would be the day. He had to find you then. Or maybe it was time to let his friends help him find you. What was the point of being stubborn about it all when he was taking away days he could be falling in love with you all over again?

"Hello...?"

He must have dozed off on the bus again, the sound of your voice making him open his eyes.

"Hey, sorry to bother you, but when's your stop?"

You must have been teasing him again. "Wherever you want it to be," he said, the words rolling off his tongue as easily as they always do. It was always easy to say such things to you. He looked up, and pauses, mind fuzzy for a moment. "Sorry, I thought you were my..."

And then it's clear. There you stood in front of him, one hand gripping the seat next to him and the other on the one in front of it. Your eyes widened as realization hit you, and Jeonghan was already rising out of his seat. The bus driver yelled something back at the two of you, but Jeonghan wasn't listening. And it seemed like you weren't, either.

"Good morning, Hannie," you teased lightly, already smiling at him.

Jeonghan only leaned in, thrilled that you closed the distance between the two of you. He cupped your face in his hands, nose brushing against yours as he tasted something sweet on your lips. Tea, he thought, or maybe some sort of dessert involving matcha or something. Your body was warm underneath his touch and so much more real than he'd ever dreamed of. But what about you? Did he live up to your dreams?

"I love you," he said softly when he drew back. Emotions surged in his chest: relief, joy, love. The freedom of no longer having to search for you crashed over him in waves, and he felt himself tear up. He roughly wiped his face on his sleeve, sniffling as he tried to hold back now. This wasn't how he wanted either of you to remember your first meeting, with him about to sob.

Yet all it took was seeing you cry for him to break, pulling you into his arms as he held you tight. The bus driver yelled back again, and he just reached back frantically, pressing the button to signal for the two of you to get off as soon as you could. And he left with you, hand in hand, as the two of you stepped out underneath the stars, already falling in love with one another all over again.

taglist: @twancingyunhao @wonuziex @synthetickitsune @staranghae @porridgesblog @weird-bookworm @bangchansbae @laylasbunbunny

[brooklynislandgirl]

They are in Henry's office. It is a cold Saturday in Absaroka county and Henry has built a fire in both stoves, and the one in his office pumps out enough heat that he has rolled up his sleeves. He knows how often Beth watches his arms and hands when he works. It is flattering to know that she desires him.

He just finished putting in his order for the week and now his attention turns to Beth where she is sitting across from him. "Come here please."

He waits for her to round the desk, drawing her into his arms and setting her on his lap. He does not get to hold her like this often enough.

"I would like to take you to my favorite place. It is a day's ride away, inaccessible from the road. We will have to camp. I want to show you the place I go to when I need to refocus myself. I would like it if you joined me."

And Way Down We Go || Accepting One of the things Beth learned the hard way growing up is how to be fully present in any singular space and to take up no room at all, whether that was physically or verbally. She watches as he builds the fires that will sink into her skin, taking the ache out of her bones, promise her the kiss of something close to normal. He does not know the gift he gives, any more than she can begin to thank him. Over the top of her phone where she has books loaded for these sorts of times when he needs to focus, she spies his forearms as he bears them for his comfort and tries not to think of the subtle flirtation there. Smooth skin, dappled by sun and freckles.Strong veins and tendons, wiry muscles that do not paint the portrait of his strength accurately. Hands that nurture as much as they protect. Hands that have known all aspects of life. Bruised knuckles too, she notes but doesn't ask. Not yet. Eventually he bids her join him and she bookmarks the chapter mid-sentence. Something she wouldn't do for just anyone.

‘Very soon we’ll have gold enough and more to pave the floors of the house,’ her husband replied. For several months he worked hard to demonstrate the truth of his idea. He explored every inch of the region, even the riverbed, dragging the two iron ingots along and reciting Melquíades’ incantation aloud. She sits in lap demurely, almost side-saddle, her toes brushing the floor. She lays her head against his shoulder, the bridge of her nose settling itself against his pulse. She breathes him in. Something earthy, a little salt, his soap. Smoke from a smudge that settles into her like the richest wine, the finest meal. She could live here the rest of her days and be blissfully content. Pressed there she feels his voice almost as well as she hears him and between the subtle vibrations and the way Henry has always carefully enunciated his every word from the moment she met him, she doesn't have trouble understanding what he says. "An' I would consider dat a privilege, and joy t' spend dat time wi' you.But only if you promise dat I won' be taking away anyt'ing by going. Sacred places are just dat, I know it in my bones. But yes. Yes, any time you wanna, jus' say da word." She smiles against him. Raises a hand to cup his cheek, her thumb grazing the cheekbone under the eye with his blood-mote.

[tinted-skies]

let's paint foxes with our fingers

Renjun fluff // 853 words

thris' note: your boyfriend tries to deny how much your presence makes him giddy.

[16:00] Finger painting with Renjun was pretty straightforward.

Rule #1: You can only paint with your fingers.

Rule #2: You can’t sketch before painting.

However, no matter how simple these 2 rules appeared to be, you always seemed to butt heads with them for 2 equally simple reasons…

Reason #1: Not everyone has been blessed with fingers as delicate as your boyfriend’s.

Reason #2: You are a sketcher. Which made rule number 2 pure evil.

Needless to say, this activity wasn’t exactly your favourite. Nevertheless, you would always jump at the opportunity to spend your sunday afternoon like this.

“Here.” Renjun dropped the paint tubes on the desk.

You ran your hands through them. Black, white, and various shades of red and orange. You frowned.

“What?” He asked bewildered. “We’re painting foxes.”

“Yes, and what makes you think that I don’t wanna paint a pink fox?” You retorted seriously, making him chuckle and dig back into his art supply drawer.

While he whipped out several tones of pink, purple, blue, green, and yellow, your mind started wandering.

Who had even come up with the idea of foxes? Being honest, you were pretty sure it had been you. But how on earth did you ever think you could pull this off?

Could you paint a flower with your fingers? Maybe. The sky? Sure. Stick figures? Hell yes. But now a fox? Maybe that had been a little bit too ambitious.

Which angle are you even supposed to draw it in? Should you try the full body? Perhaps just its face? So many decisions awaiting to be made…

Oblivious to your inner debate, the boy beside you was already happily sliding his fingers on the paper. You soon remembered what he had once said…

There’s no erasing, no redrawing, you can only start and then go with it. It’s not supposed to be perfect. The point is for it not to be perfect. Just improvise. Let go.

And with that in mind you finally started painting, not thinking much about it at all, and occasionally glancing at Renjun, who seemed fully immersed on his art, awfully quiet.

Deep down you understood his point of view. No matter how much you complained about it, you had to admit that there was something rather poetic about the activity.

The way that it was only you and the paper, with no redos or second tries. It took you back in time. Like when you were kids, not caring about how awful the final result truly was. And although you would laugh at him for saying so, he was right, it didn't need to be perfect, you just had to learn to accept its imperfections.

However, there was nothing childlike as you looked at Renjun’s painting.

Now holding each other’s pieces of paper up and analysing them, your mouth was stuck open. No matter how talented you knew your boyfriend was, he would never stop impressing you. He had opted to stay true to nature and paint it with realistic colours, even managing to add details to the fox’s fur.

After endlessly complementing each other’s skills, you both decided to head to the dorm's bathroom to wash your hands before starting another drawing.

While you washed your hands, Renjun babbled about changing things up and using yellow the second time around. You, on the other hand, were torn between purple and blue.

“You could just do a galaxy one.” He suggested while drying his hands.

This made you let out a squeal, excited about the idea, happily hopping behind him as he headed back to his bedroom.

“Can I sketch this time?” You asked, making your way next to him on the desk.

He looked at you curiously as you sat.

“I know that takes away the point but I wanna do something prettyyy...” You dragged the last word cutely, in attempt to convince him. “Just this once, please.” You held one finger in front of him.

“Why do I even keep inviting you to join me on this?” He gave in to you.

“Ahmn, because you love spending time with me.” You stated matter-of-factly.

He looked sharply at you, eyebrow raised as if challenging your words.

It wasn’t a lie that Renjun could easily spend Sunday afternoon on his own. You wouldn’t even be surprised if he spent an entire weekend without interacting with anyone. But you knew him better than that, aware that under his cold demeanour, he deeply appreciated your presence.

“Oh- excuse me, I totally forgot. You’re strong and independent, and you don’t need anyone.” You faked a serious tone.

“Damn straight I don’t.”

You heard the front door unlock, signalling the arrival of Renjun’s roommates and your cue to leave, as they would probably watch a movie and spend some quality time together, like they did most sundays at 4PM.

“Well, have fun spending the rest of the day without me then.”

You gave your boyfriend a peck on the lips and swiped your light blue covered finger on his nose, leaving him with a sunny smile as he watched you leave his bedroom door.

[defxciii]

let me take care of you

pairing: heeseung x reader

genre: smut, fluff if you squint

warnings: oral (m receiving), sub!heeseung, edging, slight overstimulation and face fucking-- do not read if you’re uncomfortable with this type of content

word count: 0.6k

heeseung came home after a long day of preparing for enhypen’s comeback.

you greet him at the door as soon as he walks in and wrap your arms around his waist to engulf him in a tight hug, “i missed you, hee. how was your day?”

he drops everything he’s holding and holds you in his arms as well. “tiring. a little frustrating, but exhausting for the most part.”

you frown at this, worried for his well-being, “is there anything you want me to do for you? i can run a bath, get you something to eat, or we can just cuddle-- whatever you want.”

heeseung gives a small smile after hearing your offers and asks for cuddles.

it’s been a while since the two of you have been able to have any sort of intimacy, so being able to spend time together was nice-- even if it was simply cuddling together.

(smutty part under the cut!)

heeseung pulls you closer into his body, resulting in your ass pressed up against his crotch. you move around, trying to get comfy again and notice him starting to harden.

“someone’s a little excited,” 

“you keep moving around, how could i not be?” he laughs.

you sit up and straddle him with a playful smile painting your face, “i keep moving around? like this?” you press yourself onto his now fully hardened member and draw slow circles with your hips.

whispers of profanities spill from his lips.

he cups your face with both hands and brings it to his; his lips hungrily meet yours. heeseung’s tongue is quick to find its way into your mouth and begin exploring every crevice. 

you pull away and begin trailing sloppy wet kisses down his neck and torso. you stop at the waistband of his sweatpants to look up make eye contact with him.

“let me take care of you,”

---

you had been edging him for who knows how long now, both of you lost track of time. taking all of him in your mouth painfully slow, sloppy, but oh so intoxicating. all he wanted was sweet, sweet release.

“mmh, please-” he begged, helplessly. “please let me cum.”

you slowly lifted your mouth off of his cock, releasing his tip with a ‘pop’. he shudders.

“hmm, i’m not sure,” you continue to stroke him in your hands, “do you think you deserve it? have you been a good boy?”

“yes,” he accidentally bucks his hips and whines. without missing a beat he continues to try and persuade you, “yes- please!”

you tut, “hee baby, you’re being a little naughty, bucking your hips like that, don’t you think? i suppose. since you sound so desperate and have been good so far,”

you continue pumping his length into your hand and heeseung sighs in relief. his panting quickens at the same rate as your hand.

“tell me where you wanna cum”

through moans and his intense feelings of pleasure he’s able to make out words, “i- in your m-m ahhh” before he could finish, your mouth was back on his cock, head bobbing up and down.

heeseung couldn’t control himself any longer and started face fucking you, ridding himself of all frustration. thrusting his hips up continuously, he desperately tries to reach his high.

you could soon feel his warm salty seed shoot down your throat. not wanting to waste anything and without a second thought, you swallow around him. a loud groan erupts from him as he continues to ride out his high.

agonizingly slow, you remove yourself from him, not forgetting to give his sensitive tip a little extra attention before pulling away completely. 

“ah-” he breathes in a sharp breath at the oversensitivity.

“thank you,” he says softly. “you’re always so good to me. you treat me so well.”

you giggle at his verbal thankfulness, finding it cute and lie back down next to him, continuing your disturbed cuddle session.

“you’re welcome hee. let’s get back to those cuddles you said you wanted,” smiles appears on both of your faces, and you play with heeseung’s hair until he falls asleep.

a/n: sdklfjlsdhlsdjf more oral (m recieving) writing- it turned out to be more sub!heeseung than i anticipated at first but i’m definitely not mad at how it turned out,,, tbh this has been finished and collecting dust in my drafts for a while oops- hope you all enjoyed nonetheless! reblogs, likes, and feedback is always appreciated <3

[orange-waterfalls]

I Call This One: Bold & Brash!

The egos x artist! gn! reader

ty @pokemonpunqueen for the request!

A/N: I’ve decided that I’m gonna write for the egos when I can’t think of anything else or I need practice writing lmao. I mean I was doing that before? But I didn’t know it? listen it’s fine it’ll be fine but FOR NOW I thiiiink I’m gonna take requests. Just a few. I’ll stop when I think it gets too much. This is exactly what it says. I focused on like drawing/painting for “artist”, with some references to animation thrown in there. I did Darkiplier, Wilford, Yancy, Illinois, Google, Eric, and a Host thrown in there bc I love him and I miss him

Word count is 1.5k

Enjoy

Egos x artist!reader

Darkiplier

He’ll want to commission art from you

He makes comments about how Mark is a narcissist but also he’s a narcissist.

Oh look, Dark’s asking you for another picture. What does he want? He wants you to draw him? Again? For the fifth time this fucking month? Wonderful.

He likes looking at how you make art of him, be it stylistic or realistic

He will hang them up all over the fucking house so pace yourself

He’s fine if you draw anybody else

Except Mark. Never Mark. How can he tell, you ask? No fucking clue, but he does

Gets a bit worried that you won’t make enough money to live comfortably

Just because not everyone needs a fucking MANSION-

Will always buy things for you if you ask

Likes to be able to support your job or hobby

Sugar daddy? I mean maybe

Makes sure you eat, sleep, drink water, survive--

Leaves snacks for you at your desk for when you don’t want a meal.

Carries you to bed if you fall asleep at a desk

Recommends you wear comfy clothes at all times so you can fall asleep wherever

A bit of an enabler, he’s doing his best tho

If you take commissions don’t be surprised if he threatens to kill someone when they don’t pay or are rude to you

He loves you, that’s all

Wilford

Fucking elated

Draw him!!! Please!!!! Please draw him!!!!! He has coin!!!!! He can pay!!!!!

Ecstatic if you actually draw him like he’ll giggle for an hour straight just looking

Secretly commissions more art from you

So also sugar daddy

It’s always something so obvious so you know it’s him anyways

He likes bright colors and eyestrain for some reason

If you make that, he just. Stares at it. Unblinking. You have to snap him out of it (im not projecting what do you mean)

Gets extremely worried about you not taking care of yourself

Gets someone to fucking babysit you when he’s gone so you take care of yourself

When you get greatly offended by this he settles for texting you reminders

And when you ignore those he texts more

Don’t be surprised if you get spammed by several people and an alarm starts to play from somewhere in the house

You’re gonna be healthy whether you like it or not, asshole

Drags you to bed aggressively

He WILL NOT drug your food with melatonin because that’s illegal. B U T-

He’s a little confused, but he got the spirit

Will advertise your art to anyone and everyone and also on his show and threatens the audience with a gun

AGAIN, a little confused. he just wuvs u so much 

Yancy

I mean technically he’s kind of an artist too so he appreciates your skill and creativity

He’s very nosy and likes to look over your shoulder while you work

If you don’t like him doing that, he still does it, just more secretively

Likes to work in the same room as you. 

That is if you don’t mind constant singing or tap dancing in the background

He shows off your art to anyone and everyone and gets mad if they don’t immediately say it’s fantastic

May or may not have stabbed someone over it, you’ll never know

If you show him something you’re working on, he’ll show you something he’s working on in return

The law of equivalent exchange

You tell him you can make MONEY from things like art and dancing and he goes apeshit he gets so fucking excited

If you’re like an animator and offer to animate his dancing he might actually cry

He’ll deny it constantly every day until he dies

If you make things traditionally he hangs them on the wall Everywhere

You might run out of room

By which i mean you will run out of room as soon as possible

Will never tell you a drawing is bad ever unless it’s like Really Bad which it never will be in his eyes

He loves anything and everything you do u are so precious

You have a permanent support system within the man

Google

Used to see art as pointless

Then comprehended the chemical release it causes in the brain and thought that was fine

Then saw you get really mad with something you were working on and got confused again?

If art no make good chemical, why art?

He still doesn’t understand, but that’s ok

You tried to get him to make something once

He just. Kinda. Made a buncha ones and zeroes

You still framed it and hung in on the wall and he got embarrassed

If he could blush, he would

If you draw him he looks like he doesn’t care but it’s at that point he decides he would die for you

Primary objective: answer questions as quickly as possible. Secondary objective: make u happy. Tertiary objective is to destroy mankind

If you draw bing that will disappear IMMEDIATELY you have BETRAYED him

If you ask for a color palette recommendation he Always says the google colors. Always.

You might’ve thought he was going for an rgby type of thing. But then you realize.

He is in charge of your financing. He will tell you the most efficient ways to make money as an artist and you follow then

He is also in charge of making sure you FUCKING EAT A MEAL

“But isn’t an objective to destroy mankind?” shut up he’s not happy about it either

Despite his best efforts he loves you and that ain’t gonna change

Illinois

Doesn’t fully understand

He needs to be outside at all times and cannot stay in one place

And you’re like??? Required to stay still???? For prolonged amounts of time????? Disgusting. Anyway, whatcha workin’ on?

He might ask you to try and teach him

If you do try he gives up almost immediately

Sometimes you just get so into it that you forget to do basic things and he gets upset

(i.e. eating, sleeping, living, etc.)

He gets worried about you

He is a hypocrite bc he does the same

He will drag you to bed, motherfucker

Honestly he might lock your shit somewhere until you fucking take care of yourself. it’s like a hostage situation god

“Where the fuck did you put it” “I have no clue what you mean. I might know if you eat your dinner, though”

Asshole (affectionate)

Sometimes you like make faces when you try to draw a person and it’s hilarious and cute to him

He looks at your drawings the moment you walk away but acts like he doesn’t care

He cares a lot

Will support you no matter what but will also tell you without hesitation if he thinks something looks shit

Listen he’s out of line but he’s right

Eric

Loves you a lot and will support anything and everything you choose to do or make

Drawing? Awesome! Painting? Wonderful! Animation? Superb!

He often wants to buy you supplies or something but he does not know what anything is

Fuck is a chalk pencil???? What are gel pens vs normal pens?????? Watercolor????? What the fuck are you saying??????????

Will subtly drop hints that you could,,,, draw him,,,,, maybe,,,,, if u wanna 

And by subtly I mean he starts to ask and then starts crying

If you draw him he will cry again he loves u so much 

If he ever were to get a tattoo it’d be something u drew. Nothing else is as important to him at the moment

He enjoys photography and film, and likes to try and bond with you over artistic things

I mean. Some things overlap.

You could talk about a single drawing for hours and he’d listen intently the whole time

Don’t ask him for feedback, it’s always some version of “it’s perfect and I love you”

Even if he hates it

Which,,,,, he might hate it sometimes

He’s not a good reviewer. 2/10, very biased

He likes to take photos when you’re in the zone

If you tell him to delete them he will

While secretly making one his home screen

Host

Hey, he gets it

He writes, he understands the hyperfocus

Sometimes he wouldn’t move from his chair for a day because he was busy writing a script

That being said, you probably have to be the one to get him to take care of himself

Or you have to take turns

Otherwise you’re both gonna fucking die

He asks you to describe your art to him and tries to picture it.

He’ll tell you if he thinks it probably looks good or bad

You shouldn’t take it to heart because he can’t see it

He is a bastard sometimes

“Well, what do you think?” “I think it looks fantastic” “Thanks, babe” “...” “... you think you’re fucking funny, don’t you”

He asks if you can draw him sometimes

No, he won’t see it, but he’ll appreciate the sentiment if you do

He will ask for your opinion on his scripts sometimes

If you say it’s bad he gets really defensive

You work in the same room a lot of the time and forget the other is there

One of you has to preemptively order food or like set a timer so you can goddamn Survive

You’ll be fine

[strawberrymilkgeorge]

Part Ten. Faces

warnings: swearing, hate comments word count: 4.1k (not including pics)

behind the screen (irl dream x f!reader) series masterlist ultimate masterlist

A/N: sorry its late!!!! this feels rushed but i was just too excited to get to some parts!!! also i have had some parts written out for SO long that they dont even feel cute to me anymore so im literally praying to every deity rn that you guys think its cute lmao anyway enjoy!!!!

**********

It had been about a week since Karl's slip up but everything was already more normal than Y/n had expected it to be. Of course, George, Sapnap and Quackity were all very understanding and gave her space while simultaneously reassuring her that she was safe with them. She fully believed it too, she knew she was safe with them and they weren't going to tell anyone her name.

The one unusual thing was now she had a heavy guilt, like someone dropped another sandbag in her stomach, every time Dream texted her. If the others knew, it was only fair that she tell him her name too, right? I mean, it's Dream. Dream! The boy who had quickly slipped his way into her life and, though she wouldn't admit it to Karl or Naomi, her heart.

But how? Does she just come right out and say it or wait until it gets brought up? She hadn't practiced telling anyone her name because she wasn't planning on doing it any time soon. Though, maybe she should have been seeing as she was going to see them all in person in a little over a month.

Regardless of the guilt, Y/n had other things to worry about today; Quackity was coming to visit. Karl had picked him up from the airport and the two of them spent all day catching up and doing who knows what but Y/n still hadn't met him. She was scared. She wasn't scared of Quackity, but scared because it was the first time one of her online friends would be able to put a face to her name and voice.

Y/n shuffled across her living room rug and reached for her phone on the coffee table, looking for some sort of distraction while she waited for them to arrive.

-

Y/n rolled her eyes but smiled, shaking her head as she threw her phone on the couch. Okay, he's right. It's gonna be fine. It's gonna be great. It's just Quackity. If he said anything rude or annoying or anything she could literally just step on him like a bug.

A sharp knock on the front door of her apartment snapped her back into reality. She shook her limbs of nervousness as she made her way to the door, two familiar voices begging to be acknowledged from the other side.

"Let us iiinnn!! Y/nnn!!!!" Karl whined.

After countless times asking the same question, she finally convinced Karl that she was okay with him using her real name in front of Quackity. He clearly still felt guilty about telling the boys her name, asking her multiple times in different ways whether he should call her Y/n or Bugsy in front of the guest. She finally got it through his head that she didn't mind either way.

"Hold on!" she yelled back. She unlocked the door and swung it open to see Karl and Quackity. "So impatient."

"Holy shit, you are tall! Goddammit, I thought that was a joke!"

Y/n laughed shyly at the greeting, looking at Quackity like he was crazy. "Hello to you too. Tried to warn you, dude."

"Yeah but, damn! You're tall and attractive, what the hell?"

"Dude," she said with a warning in her voice. She thought the flirting on Twitter was funny, but in real life she got embarrassed easier and wasn't a fan. "I'm about to kick you out of my house before I even let you in."

This was weird, meeting Quackity before meeting some of her other friends. She loved Quackity, but she had known George much longer and Sapnap even before that. There was no problem with meeting Quackity, she just had no idea how to act since she felt like she hardly knew him.

"Am I allowed to tell people that you're hot?" he asked as he fell on her couch, Karl following right after.

"Quackity!" Y/n yelled, her face heating up at a compliment. "Seriously?"

Karl cackled and shoved Quackity. "Shut up, Alex! No, you're not allowed!"

"Sorry, is that compliment reserved for Dream?" He cackled at his own joke and Y/n's face heated up even more.

"I seriously will kick you out of my house."

"You wanna be flirty on main but not in real life?" Quackity scoffed.

"I'm not flirty on main, you are!" she laughed. "Seriously, don't."

"Okay, sorry, I'll stop," Quackity promised with a laugh in his words.

The three of them fell into easy conversation, mostly because Karl and Quackity were already comfortable around each other at this point. They eventually decided to go to the mall, just to mess around and do something.

*reminder: covid doesn't exist in this fic bc we only want happy things so ignore their masks :P*

Y/n frowned as she unlocked her front door, staring at her phone. She had been so happy with all the fans freaking out about the meetup so she looked at the trending list, expecting to see a flood of keyboard smashes and happiness, but that's not all she ended up seeing. BUGKARLITY was trending, so she scrolled through the tweets and was upset to see not all of them were positive. In fact, when she typed her name in the search bar, lots of the tweets using her name were rather mean.

A few that stuck in her head called her an attention whore and said that her friends only flirted with her because she paid them too. Who on earth would even do that? Some hurt way more than others but she tried to push them aside. It wasn't like this was the first time she had seen comments like this, but they had only gotten worse since her Minecraft date with Dream. She was worried it was cause more hate for her friends and the last thing she wanted was to be the cause of their own hate.

She typed several different messages to Dream, deleting them all after she reread them. She felt like she had to request the same thing from him in a different way. Maybe because she felt like his words meant more, even if he really was just joking like the rest of them. She decided to call him instead of texting.

"Hi!" he chirped happily from the other end.

"Hi, Dream," she said as her chest filled with something warm at the sound of his voice. "How are you doing?"

"Good," he dragged out the word. "How are you?"

"Okay."

"Just okay? What's up?"

"Um," she started, immediately forgetting the words she decided she'd use. "I just... would you mind, uh, not flirting with me so much on, like, Twitter and streams and stuff like that?"

There was a silence before Dream's frantically apologetic words came through. "Yes, of course, oh my gosh. I'm so sorry. If I had known I was making you uncomfortable, I wouldn't have—"

"Wait, no," she interrupted but he must not have heard.

"—said things like... oh gosh. Bug, I'm really sorry—"

"Dream!" she raised her voice, getting him to stop ranting. "You don't make me uncomfortable."

"Oh. Really?"

"Of course not. I actually think it's really..." Cute? Adorable? Endearing? "funny," she decided.

"Oh. Then why...?"

She sighed heavily and explained what she told the others. "So, yeah. I just don't want you guys getting hate because of me so I figure if you stop then... you know."

"Bug..." he said gently. "I'm really sorry. I promise you that I don't—none of us think those things about you."

"I know."

"No, seriously," he said, clearly not believing her. "You need to understand that I..." he paused. "I mean what I say. Always."

Always? she thought. There's a few things he's said that certainly he didn't really mean... like calling her cute?

"I don't joke around like that unless I want to. I wouldn't say things like I say to you unless I really, really, genuinely considered you a close friend and felt comfortable around you. And I do."

Her heart swelled. "Thanks, Dream. I just... maybe don't do it so much for right now? Online, at least," she clarified, not wanting to deprive herself completely of Dream's flirting.

"Yeah, if that's what you want, of course."

"Well, I don't want you to stop flirting with me but, yeah."

He chuckled. "Oh, you do like when I flirt with you?"

She hummed and changed the subject. "Did I interrupt you doing anything?"

"No," his teasing voice dropped and was back to his regular self. "I'm just editing the video we filmed the other day."

"Oh, the 'Minecraft, but you can't touch the floor'?" she asked.

"Yeah."

"Oh," she said, not meaning to sound disappointed. "I'll let you get back to it—"

"No. I mean, you can stay on the phone. Unless you're busy."

She smiled and put her phone on speaker and set it next to her foot on the floor. "I was just gonna paint. So I can stay."

Before she knew it, almost two hours had passed of them sitting in comfortable silence, occasionally speaking to share something with the other before going back to their tasks. It was comforting knowing she didn’t need to speak constantly and could just hang out with Dream.

Y/n's phone rested on the floor next to her, Dream on speakerphone on the other end, only the sounds of his keyboard clicking letting her know he hadn't fallen asleep or hung up. She wasn't sure when they started doing this, staying on the phone even when they had nothing to talk about, but they had done it a few times before. They had talked on the phone and Discord many times but it was usually always with purpose, not usually this silently-enjoying-each-others-presence nonsense. Who was she kidding calling it nonsense, she enjoyed it an embarrassingly insane amount.

She repositioned so she was laying on her stomach as she finished sketching an image that was in her mind.

"Hey, you still there?" Dream asked softly.

"Yeah. Sorry, am I taking away from your sitting in silence time with George?" she joked.

Dream chuckled lightly. "Nah, you're more fun. I was just seeing if you ditched me for Karl yet."

"Nah, you're more fun," she mimed truthfully. "But I'm very focused on this drawing."

"Can I see it when you're done?"

"Don't expect too much. It looks bad."

"If you don't tell me what it is, I can't know how accurate or inaccurate it is."

"Very true..." she trailed off, holding the canvas further away to examine it all at once. She wanted the sketch to be perfect before she made permanent choices with paint. She enjoyed the serenity they maintained even when talking, voices low and delicate like they were keeping secrets but not quite whispering. "Are you almost done editing your video from the other day?"

"Sorta. I'm at the part where you and Sapnap almost died laughing because a ghast knocked George into lava and then Sapnap laughed so hard he fell into lava."

She chuckled, remembering the situation vividly. "That was so funny. The way George screams is so funny."

"Let Naomi know that," he mumbled, causing Y/n to gasp.

"Dream!" she laughed loudly and he joined.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry. It's true though."

"Disgusting!"

A distant voice sounded on the other end and she assumed it was Sapnap. "What do you want for dinner?"

Dream responded with a soft, "Nothing, I'm good."

"Are you talking to Bugsy?"

He must have responded physically because the next sound was Sapnap's very clear, much more lively voice speaking directly into the phone. "Hi, Bugsy!"

"Hi, Sapnap!"

"Can you tell Dream to eat some damn food? This man literally hasn't eaten a single thing all goddamn day."

"Dream," Y/n scolded slowly. "Please eat."

"I'm not hungry."

"I'm not showing you my painting until you eat."

A door closed on the other end and she took that as a sign that Sapnap had left.

"I don't wanna see it anyway. It's probably trash."

"Take that back!" she gasped lightly. She looked at the canvas as she grabbed the first paint color and laughed. It was only a sketch and it was already trash. "Fine, then I won't go on the trip if you don't eat in the next ten minutes."

"That's punishing yourself too though."

"Who says I want to see you?" she asked.

"I never said anything about not seeing me being the punishment."

She had been caught. "It was implied."

"Sure it was."

"It's true though. Who says I wanna see your stupid face?"

He didn't say anything, but an incoming FaceTime call lit up Y/n's phone. A FaceTime call from him.

Her smile dropped. "Clay?"

"Answer it," his voice was lower and her heart started beating faster. Was he really about to show her his face to prove a point? Reveal his biggest secret that only a few close friends knew? To her of all people? She made sure she couldn't be seen in the small window and pressed accept, the voice call ending and the FaceTime call starting.

To her surprise, what came into view wasn't his face, but the logo of the hoodie he was wearing, the simple smile of his merch taunting her. She laughed, the anxiety slowly fading away as it was replaced with a heavy feeling in her stomach. Was she disappointed? Maybe a little, but he teased her into believing she would see him.

"Oh, wow! Dream face reveal! He looks just like his icon, no way!!!"

His chest moved up and down as he laughed, not moving the camera away. "You heard it here first, guys! You've known my face all along, the logo is actually my face!"

She laughed and returned to painting, not paying any more attention to her phone since he was now also showing his ceiling, a small corner of his monitor in frame but nothing else. "I mean it though, if you don't eat, I'm going to be so mad I won't even want to be friends anymore. Or you'll die from malnourishment before we get the chance to meet."

"I doubt it. I'm just not hungry."

"Whatever."

"Oh, hey, so you met Quackity today. How was it?"

"Very scary."

"Yeah?" he asked sympathetically, urging her to explain if she wanted.

"Yeah. But it turned out okay! He didn't act any different so it was fine. It was mostly just awkward. He's also so freaking loud. You would not believe how much louder he and Karl get when they're together."

"I can imagine. Aren't they doing a stream right now or something?"

"Yeah, I think so. I don't wanna watch though, I've had enough of them for the month."

Dream laughed. "How will you deal with them together for New Years'? It'll be for like two weeks."

"Who knows if I'll actually go?"

"Wait, what?" he asked abruptly, not even bothering to hide the disappointment in his voice. His keyboard stopped clicking and she could picture him staring at his phone as if looking at her. "Of course you're going."

"Not if you don't eat food! You have, like, 3 minutes to eat something until I officially am busy doing other things whenever the trip is."

Dream groaned and clicked a few things on his computer before the image on the screen became blurry as he walked through the house, still pointing it at the ceiling. She looked away again and kept painting.

"Quackity's really funny though," she continued. "It was super awkward at first but it was fun to have someone else to help me make fun of Karl."

"Wait, Bug," Dream called out over the sound of wrappers crinkling.

"Hm?" She hummed, continuing to paint.

"Bug," his voice was much softer and he sounded nervous.

She looked at her screen and dropped the paintbrush as she focused on what she saw, grabbing her phone and holding it closer to her face so she could see, still making sure she wasn't in view. All the anxiety from the beginning of the FaceTime suddenly came back and hit her like a truck. Sitting on her screen, waiting to be seen, was Dream. His hood was up, tufts of blonde hair sticking out, and he was standing with his back towards a dark room, the dim light from his pantry making his face just visible.

He held up a cookie in front of his actual, real face. "Are you watching?"

"Y-yea... I... Yeah. I'm watching. Is that really you?"

He nodded once before shoving the cookie in his mouth. "There, I consumed food," he announced, his voice muffled by the cookie. "Now you're legally obligated to come."

"I—What? CLAY! WHAT?"

"What?" he asked innocently as he chewed, walking back to his room and still holding the phone up to show his face. His room light was on, making his face much more visible. If Y/n thought he was attractive in the harsh pantry light, he must have looked like a god in his room lighting, even as pixelated as he was due to the quality of FaceTime. He fell on his bed and Y/n could only gape at his features. He slumped against his headboard, surrounded by roughly a thousand pillows, sporting a small, shy smile as he stared at the screen. "Bug, what?"

She opened her mouth but no words came out. Needless to say, he was unbelievably handsome. Part of the speechlessness was from the shock that he showed his face out of the blue, but obviously, the majority of it was that he was pretty much the most attractive person she'd ever seen. It should be illegal for someone to look that good in a hoodie, especially when pixelated.

"Hmm," he hummed thoughtfully. "Wanna take back what you said earlier?" He bit into another cookie.

"W-what did I say earlier?" Why was she stuttering???

"You said you don't wanna see me and that I'm ugly," he teased.

She paused for too many seconds too long before finally muttering, "you arrogant son of a bitch." He laughed loudly at that.

His eyes crinkled and he threw his head back. So that's what he looks like when he wheezes, she thought to herself, pretty.

Dream shuffled his position on his bed and rested his head on one of his hands. He looked so comfy. "Why are you so quiet, weirdo?" he mumbled.

She set her phone back down and touched her cheeks with her hands and looked away for a moment, grounding herself to the real world for a second. She couldn't process her thoughts when she was staring at a man as gorgeous as Clay. "I don't know, maybe because you gave me no warning before showing me your face? Or because you failed to mention that you're incredibly hot?"

She was so glad she had looked back at her phone or else she would have missed the glorious sight of his cheeks turning bright red before he turned the camera back to his ceiling. "Oh my gosh."

"Aw cute, I made you blush."

"Shut up," he mumbled. "You threatened to not come if I didn't eat something!"

"You didn't have to—you showed me your freaking face just to prove you ate a cookie!! DREAM! I would have believed you if you just said you ate something!" she laughed breathlessly, staring at the phone now for a chance to see him again. "I was joking anyway!"

"Sure you were."

"I was."

"Well, oh well. You deserved to see me anyway."

"Oh, I deserve to see you?" She laughed. "How big is your ego?"

"You know what I meant," he groaned. "You got doxxed by Karl and you met Quackity in person. And you've clearly had a bad day because of all the hate and stuff. You've done a lot of stressful things recently and you deserved to be let in on a secret too."

He was so sweet. Like, tooth-rotting, Halloween candy stash hidden under a kid's bed, upset tummy sweet. She also couldn't get over the fact that he was a million times cuter when he was shy like he was being now, his voice soft and unsure. It contrasted vastly with the confident, loud-mouthed Dream everyone usually saw, though she liked that Dream too. She wished he could show his face for just one more second to see what he looked like shy. Probably sickeningly adorable.

This was it, wasn't it? The chance she had been waiting for to tell him her name? He just let her in on his biggest secret, now he was the one deserving to be let in.

"Y/n," she said with a confident, but soft voice.

There was a long pause. "W-what?"

"Y/n."

He understood the second time immediately. "Y/n..." he tested, the smile in his voice clear as day. "I like it."

"Yeah, well, I guess you deserved to know the secret too."

"I would have been content never knowing."

"Really?" She didn't believe him. He seemed like the type to never be satisfied, always looking for something better. Not in a greedy way, but in a motivational, goal-oriented big achiever way.

"Really," he hummed. "I already feel like you're too good to be true so I wouldn't be surprised if you weren't a real person."

It was silent as she tried to collect her thoughts.

"Bug? You okay?"

"Yeah, I... it's just a lot."

"Sorry."

"No, it's not you. Well... I don't know. I just don't know what I'm supposed to say when you say things like that," she admitted.

He paused. "I think you always have the perfect responses when I say things like that."

"What do I usually say?" She smiled shyly, pulling her hoodie up to her lips.

"You usually call me a nerd or say you can't stand me. 'Oh my gosh I cannot stand you'," he mimicked before laughing.

"What? How is that the perfect response to you saying you can't believe I'm real?"

He hummed and she could practically hear him shrugging. "Because it's a classic Bug response. It's a hundred perfect you. So yeah, it's perfect."

She was silent, trying to compose herself before she exploded.

"By the way, check Twitter."

"Why, are you bragging about me calling you hot?" she teased, hoping to make him blush like she had earlier. It worked.

"Oh my gosh, no. Just look."

She clicked her home button and navigated to the app, her feed instantly flooding with the same similar messages.

"Oh, my gosh," she muttered, her fingers flying away as she typed out her own tweet in response to the love.

Dream chuckled from the other end and when she asked him why, he vaguely said that George texted him but didn't explain further.

"Um, I have to go," she said mournfully. "Karl and Quackity are coming over again."

"Booooo," he pouted.

"Sorry, you aren't the only man in my life," she teased before instantly regretting her choice of words. Too flirty, Y/n, she thought to herself.

"Hm, shame. Am I at least at the top of the list?"

She bit her lips, wanting desperately to repeat what she had told him on their Minecraft date. In the end, she gave in. "I always mean what I say too," she started. "You're my main bitch, baby."

Dream made some sort of sound, a mix of a scoff and a whine but Y/n didn't comment on it, just glowing with heat in her cheeks.

"Leave before I don't let you," he said softly and the heat only grew.

"Goodnight, Dream," she pressed, the tone in her voice letting him know he was being a tease. "Thanks for... thanks for your tweet. And for everything you said earlier."

"Of course. Sorry that you have to see those kinds of things a lot."

"It's okay when I have people like you."

"People like me? What does that mean?"

"Just.... people like you." Cute, sweet, kind, genuine people who make her heart flutter.

She could hear his smile in his words and she figured he knew the unspoken words in her thoughts, the ones she was saying without saying. "Okay. Goodnight, Y/n."

"Goodnight."

**********

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[sugakoni]

Fic request please🤗

Daddy Heis is an angsty trash man because he has feelings for y/n but doesn’t think she feels the same.

He think she sticks around because she was more or less forced to become his assistant when she got captured by mother Miranda (y/n got lost, somehow ended up in the village and Miranda gave her to Karl to decide her fate).

Karl gets colder and distant towards y/n because the feelings freak him out.

Y/n gets sick of his shit. There’s shouting, helluva lot of tension that ends in him grabbing y/n and kissing her.

(maybe some rough, passionate smut 👉🏻🥺👈🏻 too)

(a/n): i saw this request last night and i literally needed to write it asap. so,,, here that is. teehee. thank you, anon!

warnings: porn with some plot. this is basically just pure smut after their argument. karl doing something with his cigar. praise. degradation. this was so fun to write.

word count: 2318

pairing: karl heisenberg x fem!reader

one-shot under the cut (heis simps, eat up.)

His somewhat desolate life was disrupted by your abrupt intrusion, though you were given to him under Miranda’s orders to decide your fate, the man seemed to differ from the people he called his brother and sisters. He kept you around, making you an assistant to his creations. But, he couldn’t help but admit his feelings towards you were somewhat more than… professional.

Karl thought he was crazy for feeling this way, feeling as if he knew the answer that he forever longed for from you. You were only there to help him, to survive. Surely, you had no mutual feelings towards him, which made him grow distant.

Any time you waltzed your way into his work room for the day from your room that he made you, his eyebrows would be tightly knit in a slight annoyance. He couldn’t stand to be around you with these nagging feelings, and just hearing your voice made it even worse.

Today, it was no different.

You had made your way into his workroom, a good morning leaving your lips in a sing-song tone. He gave you a small, dismissive wave, and you furrowed your eyebrows.

To you, this sudden distance and cold response from the man you were supposed to work with seemed harsh. You felt like you had done something wrong, but he would’ve told you if you did. Your heart stung, thinking about your own feelings towards the man. You stood beside him, arms crossed, and he didn’t even bother to look over at you.

A huff left you, which caused him to finally glance up. You looked at the pictures in front of you, anger prominent in your face as he studied you. You slammed your fists on the table, and Karl didn’t even budge, just rolling his eyes in response.

“What the fuck is wrong?! What did I do?!” You exclaimed, looking over at him. Karl threw what he was working on onto the table in front of you, a loud clunk being hard once it hit. You jumped, watching him forcibly take off his gloves and put them to the side.

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” he replied, now facing you fully. You turned your own body, hands moving as you spoke.

“You have been cold, distant, and honestly a douchebag. What the fuck did I do to make you want to treat me like this?!” You yelled at him again. His own face then scowled in anger, before he moved to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“I asked you a question! What did I do! What can I do to fix it?” You whined a bit as you spoke, everything coming out as a plea. Karl just stood there, trying to think of what to say.

“What can I do!”

“Would you just shut the fuck up?!” Karl snapped, which caused you to wince a bit.

You blinked back the tears that formed in your eyes at his sudden choice of words, glancing away as the tension grew in the room. It felt hot, heavy, and certainly uncomfortable. You played with a stray hem in your jeans pocket.

“You are fucking annoying. I took you in to help me, and now I am stuck here with these feelings I know you will never give back,” Karl admitted. You snapped your head back at him.

“So your response is to be cold and now you call me annoying?!”

You had to admit, him saying that he had the same feelings for you as you did him really lifted a weight off of your shoulders. But, the way he was going about it was testing your patience. You bit at your tongue.

“Yes! You come in here everyday, with a smile on your face, telling me good morning n’ all that shit. And ya don’t like me, so every fucking time I hear it, it pisses me off,” Karl threw his glasses onto the table as well.

You pursed your lips together.

“You’re stupid.”

“What’d you just call me?”

“You. Are. Stupid,” You repeated, pointing a finger at him. He immediately grabbed your wrist, pulling you into him and pressing his lips against yours. You melted under his touch, brain going 100 miles per hour as you kissed him back.

The kiss was rough, teeth clashing together as you two stood there. A moan left your lips at the feeling, which caused Karl to press his tongue against yours. You gasped at the feeling, the taste of a cigar he must’ve had moments prior to you coming in still lingered.

He pulled away after a while, breathing heavy. Your own chest rose up and down with his own, Karl’s eyes flickering all over your face before pulling you in again. The grip on your wrist left, and you wrapped your arms around his neck. Kissing him back with such passion, your hands knocking his hat off of his head. He grunted against your lips, moving his hands down to cup your thighs, picking you up, and setting you on the table.

Karl was in between your legs, his hips pressing against your core. The two of you never broke contact with each other, his hands rubbing against your sides, occasionally going up to grasp at your breasts through your shirt. You pulled away to breathe again, looking into his eyes as he looked into yours.

You wrapped a hand around the assortment of things hanging around his neck, pulling him flushed against your chest, your lips against his ear.

“Fuck me, Karl. Fuck. Me.” You whispered, and it caused a small shiver to go down his spine, but he kept his composure.

“Don’t mind if I do,” he chuckled lowly, the sound going straight to your panties. You smirked a bit at his reaction, pulling away slightly before he loved to grasp the back of your head, tangling his fingers into your hair and pulling your head back forcefully.

“You think it’s funny to be a little bitch like that, huh?”

You whimpered, biting at your lip but a small smile was on your face. He tsked, going to kiss at your neck. Biting harshly against your delicate skin, but it wasn’t enough to draw blood. You gasped at the sensation, and he lowly mumbled a “mine” against you. You tried to clench your thighs together, but that ended up making your legs press harsh against his hips.

Karl smirked to himself, moving to remove your shirt. Your bra did barely nothing to cover you, your nipples perked slightly through the thin material. He moved to pinch at one of them, which made you arch your back into his chest.

Karl moved his hand away from your hair, that hand going to the button of your jeans. You blushed, feeling him unbutton it and unzip the zipper.

“Off.”

You obliged, moving to tug your jeans off. He glanced down, seeing that your panties were absolutely soaked. Karl placed his hand against your core, which caused you to shiver.

“Look at ya… all needy for me, makes you regret saying what you said, hm?” Karl asked, glancing up to see your face. Your mouth was slightly open, breathing a bit shallowly in thought.

“I asked you a question.”

You bit at your lip as the tips of three of his fingers began to rub your clit through your panties, a soft whimper leaving the back of your throat.

“Y-yes… It really does,” you whispered.

He hummed at the response, pushing your garment to the side to expose your folds. A blush painted your skin, before a moan erupted from you when he slid the three fingers into you that were just rubbing into your clit. They stretched you slightly, and Karl grinned at the way you reacted.

His other hand pulled your bra off of your breasts, leaving it on but exposing your chest to the air in the room. Karl groped your tit for a moment, fingers curling in your pussy which caused you to gasp. Soon, the hand was on your jaw, forcing your head down.

“See how wet you are for me? How your pretty little cunt is just begging me to fuck it? You really think I’m stupid?” He spoke. You whimpered, squirming a bit as his fingers pressed up against your sweet spot.

“Fuck.. no, I-I don’t… you just don’t think I-I like you and I do… Christ, Karl, keep moving your fingers,” you begged, starting to rock your hips against the fingers in you. He immediately grabbed your hips, forcing you to stop.

“Did I fucking say you could move?”

You whined, screwing your eyes shut as he started to thrust his fingers into you at a rough, fast pace. His hand traveled up to your neck, wrapping around it and applying a bit of pressure. Your eyes stayed glued to his face.

You took in every bit of him in this moment, how he had a small smirk against his lips, a slight bit of sweat on his forehead as he continued pumping his fingers in and out of your pussy. A groan left your lips, clenching around him which caused him to laugh a bit.

“Such a needy bitch. Ya wanna cum?”

You gave a nod, and he pulled his fingers out of you as soon as you gave your response. Your nose scrunched up in slight annoyance, and he released your throat from his grip. A prominent mark from his hand.

“What the fuck?!” You whined out, shaking a bit from the lack of a climax you had reached.

Karl moved to unbuckle his belt, undoing the zipper of his pants and moving to pull his cock out. It was hard, the tip glistening in pre-cum. He gave it a few pumps, a soft grunt leaving him.

You bit at your lip, watching him for a moment before he looked up at you. He pulled a chair up, sitting down on it and patting his lap. You shakily got up off of the table, your slick sticking to your thighs. You moved to straddle his waist, his cock nudging against your aching core.

Karl huffed out, going to grab a cigar from the pocket in his shirt and pressing it in between his lips. He lit it up, his other hand against your thigh, gripping harshly at the skin.

“C’mon darlin’. Get goin.”

You gave a nod, moving to press the tip of his cock against your entrance. You slid down, gasping at how he stretched you out in the best of ways. Karl grunted, smoke leaving his lips and hitting you in the face. You started to move your hips, your hands on pressed against his chest.

Tiny gasps kept left your lips, echoing in the room. Karl continued to smoke, watching as you bounced up and down on his cock. Taking in the sight, your breasts slightly going up and down as you moved.

“Ohhh. Look at ya… my little whore, getting off on my cock,” he hummed, moving to press the tip of his cigar against the skin of your stomach. A sharp gasp left you, the pain mixing with the pleasure that you felt. The tip of his cock pressed against your sweet spot, causing you to mewl out.

“So pretty… So so pretty,” he slightly praised, putting the cigar back in his mouth. Karl moved his hands to your hips, halting your movements before he began to thrust up into you.

You cried out, your high from earlier creeping up. You gasped, a thin layer of sweat on your body as you grasped harshly onto his shirt. Karl hummed, the occasional cloud of smoke leaving from his nose. He grunted harshly at how your pussy clenched around him, before pulling you off of his cock, halting your release yet again.

“Karl!” You let out. He moved to make you stand up, placing his cigar on the ashtray on the table. Karl turned you around, bending you over the desk in a sudden swift motion. You pressed your cheek against the cool metal of the table, shuddering as his finger swiftly went up your folds.

He stayed silent, his tip replacing his finger, grabbing his cigar again and placing the tip on the skin of your back. You seethed at the pain, moving your hips back and his cock began to slightly fill you up. Karl bit at his lip, placing the cigar down again and slamming the rest of himself into your aching pussy.

“Fuck!” You cried, and he started to thrust in and out of you at a quick pace. The sounds of his skin slapping slightly against yours filled your ears, your eyes screwed shut as ecstasy filled your body. Release already wanting to hit, and you groaned loudly as soon as your pussy clenched around him, cumming all over.

Karl let out a chuckle, still thrusting as you rode out your high. Whines and whimpers left your mouth, before you felt him release inside of you. The warmth of his seed wanted you to beg for more, but you knew you were slightly spent. Karl’s breathing was heavy as he pulled out, your cum mixed with his dripping from your cunt.

“I’m glad the feeling is mutual,” he whispered, helping you stand back up straight.

You looked back at him, a tired smile on your face as you sighed out. You fixed your bra, grabbing the rag he offered you and wiping the cum that dripped. He watched you, not knowing what to do to help, before handing you your clothes after he got his pants and boxers situated.

“It always has been,” you responded as you put your clothes on. Your hair was a mess, your face still red and ecstasy still laced in your words. Karl smirked, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Good.”

[daltonacademia]

There’s A Time For Daring - 1

charlie dalton x fem!reader [post events of the movie]

word count: 1.7k

warning: allusions to sex / slight sexual harrassment? drinking, mentions of neil’s suicide, horrible parents 

Charlie couldn’t help but emit a low growl as his vomit-inducing, picture-perfect, high-society mother and father, whom he despised, prodded him towards the expansive front entrance of Nealson Preparatory School located in southern Vermont. His fuschia-lipped, cakey-faced mother, Cynthia Dalton, was a well-dressed, dignified housewife by day and charming socialite by night; she was particularly harsh as she trampled his pen-stained oxfords with her spearish kitten heels. His eyes shot daggers at the snow-strewn path below, a familiar fire burning in his core.

There were many things Charlie was tempted to furiously spit out at his parents, but instead, he managed to keep his jaw clamped shut, his pearly whites digging into the light pink of his lips hard enough to draw blood. No matter what he shouted, cried, pleaded, they wouldn’t budge. They never would. And it was infuriating.

“Charles! Being expelled from such a prestigious school is no laughing matter, young man. That school cost us quite the pretty penny! How dare you defy the rules to the extent of expulsion. It’s disgraceful, and I will tolerate it no longer!” Charlie’s mother shrieked, furious tears smudging the thick mascara that coated her eyelashes.

“You’ll be shipped off to Nealson Preparatory School in February, and if I hear so much as a single mention of your name not followed with overwhelming compliments, you can expect nasty, nasty consequences! Go pack your things, you’ll be staying with Aunt Barbara until the first of February finally arrives!” The rims of Charlie’s brown eyes stung with anger, frustration, and furthest down, sadness. He was diminished to nothing but an image-ruiner to his mother. The person who was supposed to love him, protect him, save him from the horrors of this hell called Earth.

Mr. Dalton silently observed the boisterous outburst from his expensive leather armchair across the den, a glass of strong, half-drunk whiskey in his palm. Charlie couldn’t bear to see their despicable faces any longer, and as his body felt no longer under his control, stomped up the stairs in a huff, rapidly swiping away the glassy tears spilling from his eyes. Thoughts of running away, escaping it all, flooded his unstable mind. ‘I get why you did it, Neil. I really do. But did you have to go so soon?’ 

But instead of lingering on the image of Neil any longer, he hastily threw his bare necessities into his suitcase, which was still covered in an array of Welton Academy stickers.

The grounds of Nealson were unsurprisingly well-maintained; it reminded him a lot of Welton. The impeccably manicured lawns, gleaming, icy blue lake, the gothic stone arches and pillars. It was eerily similar to Hellton, even down to the ice-cold blanket of snow coating the distant rolling hills. It’s beautiful, Charlie thought, surveying the slow sprinkling of snow, No, it’s hideous. 

Before he could fully vomit at the vile grounds of his new school, his parents fiercely shoved him inside the Headmaster’s dingy office, politely taking the vacant mahogany seats beside him. Charlie couldn’t be bothered to listen to a word his parents said with pearly white smiles, which were no doubt tooth-rotting, sugar-coated lies about the real reason he was expelled over a month prior. 

He knew that they couldn’t just be transparent and tell the Headmaster that he had socked the utterly vile Richard Cameron’s face in (rightfully so, in his opinion), or that he was a star member of the infamous Dead Poets Society, or that he had gone to the extreme lengths to stage a phone call from none other than God himself. It didn’t work like that. 

His mother’s cheeky, artificial voice sounded precisely the same as it always had: carefully rehearsed and slathered with naivety. Seemingly without hesitation, the catty woman could deflect any less-than-pleasant questions or insinuations about her “golden role-model” son, who’s admittedly “a little misguided at times”. 

The new headmaster seated across from him appeared to be around the same age as Mr. Nolan, which, as far as Charlie was concerned, was older than the Cretaceous period at least. His pale-as-a-ghost skin was wrinkled and paper-thin; his patchy, gelled side-swept hair was (very obviously) dyed a deep, midnight black, reminiscent of an off-brand Elvis. 

Charlie’s ears continued to mute the awkward conversation happening amongst him, his focus instead shifting around to the various awards and certificates lining the ivory walls. They all seemed so phony; ‘Best Headmaster- 1947-1959’, ‘Nealson Academy: Exceeds Expectations’. The Headmaster had even framed his high school superlative: ‘Voted Most Likely to Succeed’. What a pathetic-

In a swift blur, his parents rose from their seats, his mother clutching her magenta purse with matching pursed lips. Charlie was handed a hefty, stapled packet packed full of school rules and guidelines with a denture-toothed smile from Headmaster ‘Campbell’. This’d make some decent kindling, he thought as he yanked the packet from his clammy clutches, leafing through its pages with a smirk, this garbage’s almost laughable.

A syncopated rhythm of raps on the door, followed by a gravelly, ‘come in', presented his new dorm escort. His chauffeur just so happened to be you, the accomplished and universally admired student body president in the same grade as the newcomer. You were dutifully donning Nealson’s horrendous uniform: a crisp, white button-up accented with a blue and silver tie was topped with a depressing grey sweater vest. An equally loathsome pleated skirt concealed your thighs, and your ankles were shielded from the chilly February air with black crew socks. 

You extended your perfectly manicured, soft hand out to your brand-new peer with a yearbook-worthy smile, introducing, “Hi. Welcome to Nealson, I’m Y/N Y/L/N.” You swore you heard the brunette mutter something disrespectful under his breath, but nonetheless, he, rather unprofessionally, shook your hand with an eye roll. Things between the two of you were not starting off the way you hoped, but you were determined to make a good impression. The best impression possible.

“Charlie Dalton,” he replied with a mischievous smirk. The brunette standing in front of you reeked of cigarettes, and there was the slightest smell of cheap beer clinging to his clothes. His brown hair was messy, springing out in every direction, despite the water furiously combed through it. His eyes glinted with rebellion, a look so alluring yet dangerous.

“I’ll be showing you to your dorm, which you’ll sleep in for the remainder of the year.” Since Dalton was starting in February, he only had five months of studying before long-awaited senior year. Mr. Campbell waved the two of you off, and with that, you trekked towards the Boys’ wing, Dalton sauntering at your side. 

The walk through the main corridor was silent and awkward. You had tried to enchant him with fun facts about Nealson and its (extensively selective) history, much to his obvious boredom and dismay. His umber eyes glazed the walls, uninterested in the decor. His mind seemed to be elsewhere, but for all you knew, it could be on the bottom of the Pacific Ocean. 

After a while of treading through the high-ceilinged corridors illuminated with fleeting pale rays of sunlight, the boy next to you made no attempt to hide him drawing designs up and down your body. 

“I’ve never been to a school with both boys and girls,” he drawled with a smirk. “Do things ever get exciting around here?”

You shook your head no while indiscreetly tugging down the hem of your skirt uncomfortably, and he said, “Do you think you’d maybe wanna spend the night with me in my dorm? Make sure I’m all settled in?”

Your whole body, from head to toe, froze. The audacity of this… creep! Your tongue poked, nearly stabbed, the back of your teeth, wanting to unleash a select few words to the disgusting Dalton beside you. But alas, if he were to tell anyone of your fiery wrath, you’d be demoted from class president faster than you could explain what really happened. It’s a corrupt system, sure, but even with the power that comes with such a title, there was no way to mend it.

Eventually, while you were wrapped up in the furies of your mind, Dalton revealed a small, autographed golf ball from his trousers pocket and began throwing it up and down above his head casually with every step. 

“Can you not?” you snapped at the chestnut-haired boy after he tossed the sphere up and down again in an arch. “Don’t wanna get in trouble on your first day, do you?”  

“You think this’ll get me in trouble? Have a little fun, it won’t kill you. I promise.” Dalton turned his gaze towards you, an annoyed but smug grin painted on his lips. He slowly tossed the golf ball to your hands, intending for you to catch it. However, the small ball evaded your grasp, instead bouncing around the hardwood floors below you, creating a series of loud, reverberating thunks.

“You were supposed to catch it, you know,” Dalton teased, nonchalantly watching you chase after the rogue orb. After it was finally safe in your clutches, you stomped over to the no-good newbie, irritated. 

“Nealson’s strict. They don’t let stuff like creating an awful lot of racket go unreprimanded.” You were seething; red-hot blood pumped through your veins. Dalton didn’t look anything but utterly amused.

“Wow, you’re just about one of the biggest suck-ups I’ve seen in a while.”

“A what?” you growled.

“A suck-up. A rule-following poster child of excellence? A bratty, know-it-all? Anything along those lines?” He sputtered insults so nonchalantly, it made your blood boil and eyes sting.

“You better watch it, Dalton. I don’t know who you think you are-”

“I’m the best thing that’s happened to this school, by the looks of it.” 

You had nothing left to say to this conceited shuck of a boy who really thought that he was all that and a side of fries. Well he wasn’t! Not in the slightest! And if his first day of classes wouldn’t drill it into him, you would.

The rest of the walk was pin-drop silent and tense. No more fun facts about Nealson escaped your downturned lips, just the light patting of his beat-up oxfords and your pristine mary-janes on the polished wood floor. The hallways seemed more depressing than usual, their framed portraits and condensated windows didn’t fill you with the motivation that you came to expect.

After finally arriving at the boys’ dormitories, you grumbled, “well, this is it. Have a swell life, Dalton.”

“Right back at ya, Y/L/N. Let’s hope this isn’t the last time we meet.” He gave you a cheeky wink before slamming the door in your face.

[the-fiction-witch]

Books

TV SHOW: THE QUEENS GAMBIT COUPLE: BENNY WATTS X READER  RATING: FUNNY + FLIRTY

I walked down the half broken, foul smelling new york streets. Hearing my heels clacking in the pavement as I walked, the swishing of my petticoats and my dress, the small sun trying to peek through the thick grey clouds. I put my sunglasses in my handbag as I arrived at the tall buildings I saw the beaten up beetle parked in the street and the small handful of parking tickets it had under the wiper blade so I picked them up and sighed turning to look down into the ever stretching darkness of the stairwell. I stepped down trying not to touch the handrail to the first level of little doors with some lights and then down the second stairwell into the dark nothing's, it smells like shit down here. 

I got to the door trying to not touch the gross walls tapping in the door as hard as I could hearing the metal echo through the basement.

The door opened tenderly and careful a first as if trying to peak before it opened fully revealing a barefoot, Benny watts. Stood in his black dirty jeans where he'd clearly wiped his hands down his legs for some reason, his black t shirt with his usual chains, his hand fixing his hair out of his eye with a small smile on his lips 

"Hey you"

"Hey" I smiled briefly stepping inside, as soon as my foot crossed into his apartment he put his hand on my waist and gave my cheek a kiss "move your car" I told him pushing the tickets into his chest he took them and I headed inside slipping my Jacket off and laying it over the chair 

"I'll move it in a bit" he says "coffee?"

"Tea" I Answered "extra milk t-"

"Extra milk two sugars I know" he laughs going over to his kitchen setting the tickets down in a forming pile on his kitchen counter 

"You should pay them"

"I should do a lot of things"

"Pay your parking tickets Benny"

"Suck my dick y/n" he says leaning against the counter looking at me crossing his arms over his chest "we both don't do what the other wants us to"

"You make me suck your dick I'll bite your cock off" I sighed sitting at the table 

"I know, I still have the bite mark from Last time" he sighed bringing the cups over sitting across from me with his coffee instantly I took my little hanki from my handbag and cleaned the top of the cup seeing the white cotton turn grey 

"What is it Benny? What did you summon me to the slums of new york for?"

"Oohh sorry, next time should I request an audience at mi lady's palace?" 

"What do you want Benny before I pour this tea down your pants"

"I need your help"

"... Hu. Never thought I'd hear you say that but go on"

"I need your help with something that only you can help me with"

"Right…"

"I wanna write a book" 

"A book?"

"Yes"

"What kinda of book?"

"One with... words?"

"No shit. Fictional or non fictional?"

"What's the difference?"

"Fictional is a story, non fictional is real life."

"Oh, non fiction"

"Okay, do you have a plot structure"

"A who what?"

"What's the plan for the book Benny?"

"I shall write it. And then I shall publish it." 

"Did you wanna edit it somewhere in the middle there?" I laughed

"Eh, you can do that" 

"Okay… so lemme guess this is a book about you? Or about chess?"

"Little I'd both"

"Who's publishing it?"

"Me?"

"Ohh so you have four thousand dollars laying around do you?" 

"What!"

"If you wanna self publish Benny, the basic level is four thousand dollars and that will get you local distribution if your lucky which is about five states out if that." 

".... Uuuughh, I'll publish through a publisher? Your publisher?"

"Eleanor doesn't take non fiction"

"Then she has to know someone who does? Right?'

"She does but then have to pay for meetings which cost roughly fifty bucks per ten minutes, and you have to get an approved manuscript before they'll even meet you, and even though a publisher for international you’re taking nine to ten thousand. Dollars."

"Uuuuuuughhh, wait. It's a chess book so I could get funding for it from the chess federation"

"Maybe, but then they are going to need to approve it first, and the send to a publisher willing to carry it, and then designing, and editing and printing and stocking which could take over five years" 

"Five years!"

"Yep. The novel world is a slow one Benny" I said "besides that's all publishing stuff, you can worry about that when you have a manuscript"

"A what now?"

"Manuscript is like the… actual book pages and all the words that will be on them"

"Ohh, well that shouldn't be too long, bang it out over a long weekend or something"

"You think you can write a book manuscript over a long weekend? Three days?"

"Yes"

".... Okay, so you wanna write a book? Which for non fiction about chess really a good level would be five or six hundred pages minimum, your going to get it written, edited, and ready to send to the chess federation for approval by Monday morning, even though they might reject it or just plain not fund it, you'll be already one thousand dollars in the red, before you add shipping, handling, copywriting, paying me for editing because I ain't doing that shit for free and as it's currently four pm on a Saturday afternoon and you haven't even writen a word yet"

"Oh."

"Yeah. Oh."

"How long did it take you to write your book?"

"Six years, in and off with a full time job and without an editor"

"I'm fucked aren't I?'

"Not fucked Benny. Overambitious" I laughed "do you have a title?"

"No."

"Do you have a synopsis?"

"No."

"Do you have a typewriter?"

"I was going to write it by hand?"

"With your handwriting?"

"What's wrong with my handwriting?"

"Benny, it looks like a spider learnt cursive and then got drunk"

"I don't own a typewriter. May I borrow yours?"

"No. Buy one"

"There like sixty dollars!"

"I will buy you a pre-owned typewriter"

"Aww thank you sugar"

"How are you intending to pay me for being your editor?"

"... Royalties?"

"Awww Benny darling, if you sell your book for a dollar each you'll be lucky to make 25 cents per book in royalties, less if you go though a publisher, and even less if it's being funded by the federation… you'll maybe get about six pennies if your lucky" I explain 

"Then how the hell do you afford your car? Your house? Your dresses?"

"I sell alot of books Benny"

"I'll give you three pennies if my six pennies royalties?"

"Of your not yet existing book? So I'm just meant to wait and see if I get paid?"

"I'll bake you a cake?"

"You can't cook Benny"

"... I will eat you out?"

"No deal"

"I promise you half of all royalties, editor credit and I'll fuck you as much as you want, now will you please just help me?"

"Fine. I'll be needing a deposit payment" I said 

"Alright, you know where the bedroom is I'll finish my coffee and be there in a sec" 

I sat on the leather chair looking at the handwritten chapter structure Benny had given me "Benny?"

"Yeah?" He asks slightly jumping where he had been sat for so long at his table with his notes and the old typewriter I got for him trying to figure out how he loaded paper in it 

"What is this word?" 

"What word?" He asks 

"The something with something"

"Which chapter?"

"Four?"

"The faults with defense" 

"That is how you write an s?" 

"Yes"

"... How do you not write an s right it's in your name?" 

"No it's not?"

"Yes it is"

"B. E. N. N. Y. No s there?"

"Watts?" 

"Ooohh yeah"

"You fool" 

"Also, does this have a E?"

"No."

"And how am I meant to write a chess book without the letter e? I sort of need it? Chess. Defensive. Queen. Benny."

"Antidisestablishmentarianism" 

"That's a word?"

'"yep"

"Can you use it in a sentence?"

"Screw you bitch I can spell antidisestablishmentarianism" 

"A.n.t.i.d.i.s.t?"

"Nope"

"Damn it" he sighed "but I need e how am I meant to write chess without an e?"

"Write an o and then draw a line in the middle?" 

"Fine" he said starting to type one key at a time "Openings… and… tactics… by… Benny… watts" he said but the typewriter had got to the end of the spool "y/n! Why won't it type!"

"Benny just… ughh come here you child" I sighed getting up going over and moving the spool back to the centre so he could write "there. You have to do that at the end of each line"

"Really?"

"Yep. Isn't writing fun" I smiled kissing his head 

I sat listening to the clicking and clacking of his typewriter keys, sounded like music to my ears in his quiet dark and cold apartment

"Fuck!" He yelled breaking me from my relaxation as he stopped

"What?" I asked

"How do I undo?" He sighed rubbing his eyes 

"You can't what happened Benny?" 

"I typed porn instead of pawn" he sighed resting his head in his hands

"You fool" I giggled "you wanna know how we fix mistakes Benny?" I giggled going over wrapping my arms around his neck 

"We we write the whole page?" 

"Nope. White out" I smiled handing him the shall bottle 

"Fuck! That smells like paint"

"Ehh pretty much is"

"Thank you y/n"

"Your welcome" I smiled giving his head s kiss "call me when chapter one is done I'm going for a shower" 

"Uuuuhhh… yeah I'll do that" he says not sounding confident 

"How close to finished are you with chapter one?"

"Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuhhhhhhhhhhh… next week sound good?"

"And you could bang out a whole book in a weekend" I laughed sitting back on the chair 

"I said I'm sorry! I didn't know it was this hard" he says 

I sat the other side of the table with my lovely blue pen, my leg over my knee, smirking slightly at him as Benny sat on the other side his hands to his face watching me Intently, panic in his eyes everytime he saw me use the blue pen, which I was having to do alot. 

"Here" I said throwing it back to him now I was done "you should probably re write that's a little too much editing for white out watts"

"What's wrong with this?" He asks as he looked over the page 

"You used the wrong there"

"I hate you. Beyond words can express." 

[hopelesshawks]

Basic Instincts Part 23- Deal

18+ Hawks x fem!pro hero reader

Summary: Hawks was your first friend, your first kiss, and your first love. You were the same for him. But you’re not little commission trainees anymore, you’re full fledged pro-heroes now with all the baggage and sacrifice that entails. Things are different now, and when the two of you end up accidentally mated, well… they’re about to get even more different.

Warnings for unprotected sex, handjob, oral (male receiving), light nipple play, light dom/sub themes, light overstimulation, wing kink, and praise kink

Masterlist Help Lulu <3

"You ok Dove?" Keigo asks as he comes up behind you, arms wrapping around your waist. You quickly turn off your phone's screen and toss it aside before spinning in Keigo's arms to look at him properly. You can feel your heart starting to break already but you swallow it down. "I'm fine, just still recovering from worrying about your stupid ass," you lie with a sad smile. "I'm sorry for worrying you," he replies as he nuzzles his nose against yours. "I know... I love you so much Kei," you whisper into the small sliver of air between the two of you. "I love you too," he breathes back and your grips on each other get impossibly tighter. God he'd be so angry if he knew what you'd just agreed to. You hope he'll forgive you eventually.

“Can I preen your wings?” you ask suddenly.

Keigo pulls back surprised to search your eyes as if in disbelief that you’d offer. His wings puff and flutter at the notion before wrapping around you protectively. “I’d love that,” he admits breathlessly. You give him a bright smile, swallowing down the lump in your throat as you instruct him to sit on the bed. He does as asked, pulling his shirt off carefully as he does so, leaving him in just a pair of sweats. You carefully sit down behind him, legs straddled on either side of him, and can’t help but appreciate the sight before you. Keigo is all lithe muscle, everywhere from his shoulders to his lower back toned from years and years of hard training and hero work. Scars litter his body and you can’t help but to reach out and trace the burn marks still left from his infamous run-in with Dabi. He shudders at your gentle touch, as if merely brushing along the scars is enough to send him back into those memories, so you carefully lean forward and place a delicate kiss to the scarred skin. He sighs into it and you watch the muscles slowly lose their tension as he starts to relax.

You reach one hand forward to start at the base of his right wing, gently kneading the taut muscle connecting it to his back before slipping your fingers through the soft downy feathers there. A groan of relief tumbles from his lips unbidden at the feeling and it makes something warm curl up next to the cold dread that’s taken up residence in your heart. Gradually you progress further and further down his wings, the feathers reacting to your every touch. The loose ones fall away under your careful ministrations and soon you hear a gentle coo rumbling through Keigo’s chest as you continue to carefully remove the excess feathers. You’ve always found his wings majestic and although they may be smaller than their usual size, they’re no less awe-inspiring now and you treasure being trusted enough to touch them so intimately. When you finally reach the tip of his right wing you shift your focus to the left, giving it the same delicate attention. “Shit (y/n),” he sighs, his eyes drifting shut as his head falls back against your collar and you continue to carefully stroke through his wing. Once you finish the left wing you press a gentle kiss to the top of his head and wrap your arms around his torso, his abs jumping beneath your touch and his wings twitching and fluttering on either side of you. “You’re so sensitive Kei,” you whisper as one of your hands wanders to one of his already hardened nipples. He hisses slightly as you pinch the sensitive nub and you can see his cock twitch through his sweats.

“(Y/n) I-“

“Shhh, lemme take care of you.”

One hand returns to his wings, gliding through the feathers with care and occasionally raking your nails along them. Keigo shudders against you as you let your other hand slip down his torso and past the waistband of his pants to wrap around his hardened length. Your thumb swipes over the sensitive head of his cock, causing his hips to buck slightly. You use the precum gathered there to ease the gentle glide of your hand around his dick as you start to pump him slowly. You sync the hand stroking his cock with the one stroking his wings and soon Keigo is swearing under his breath, both hands fisting in the sheets as his hips thrust up into your hand. The whole time you whisper sweet nothings and praises into his ear. “You look so pretty like this Kei. My pretty bird. So perfect for me. I love you, I love you so much.” It’s the last night you’ll be able to tell him these things so you’re determined to etch them into his memory so that they remain long after you’re gone. His wings start to spasm as you drive him closer and closer to climax so you speed up both your hands’ motions to drive him there even faster, taking pride in the way he shudders against you and moans your name. “Fuck baby I’m gonna cum,” he keens, hips thrusting up into your fist eagerly eyes squeezed tightly shut in pleasure. “Open your eyes, I wanna watch you fall apart for me,” you command and Keigo is quick to obey. His eyes immediately find yours once he opens them again and the eye contact you make is searing as he cums with a shout, painting his own chest white with sticky ropes of his seed.

You tilt your head to kiss him in reward as you milk him through his orgasm until he’s spent. If you had any intention of ending the night there though Keigo quickly squashes it as he turns in your arms to press a hungry kiss to your lips. It’s intense and all consuming, the bond flaring up in response to the heated exchange to further enhance every sensation. He carefully strips you both down until your naked bodies can press against each other, your arms loop around his neck to pull him closer, grinding up against him. He winces slightly, his dick still sensitive, but you’re determined to show him the best possible last night. You roll over so you’re on top pressing him into the mattress as his hands grasp hold of your hips and immediately you once again reach for his sensitive wings. “You tryna kill me there Dove?” he groans breathlessly as his hips jerk up, dick starting to harden again already. “Maybe a little,” you tease as you continue to run your hands through his feathers. “Careful (y/n), st-still sensitive,” he warns but you only shush him as you start to fist his cock back to full hardness. “Gonna make you feel so good,” you promise, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth before moving down to his neck to suck bruises there.

Each mark you leave stands in stark contrast to the rest of his pale skin as you make a trail down his chest and torso. No matter what happens in the morning Keigo is and always will be yours. If this is your one chance to show the world that then you’ll take it. Only once his neck and chest are covered in your marks do you drop lower, licking a long strip up his cock and drawing a moan from your mate. You’re merciless in your attention, sucking him into your mouth even when he’s still only half hard. He curses and whines above you as you sink down lower and let him gradually harden within the damp cavern of your mouth. Only once he’s fully hard again do you start to bob your head up and down the shaft. Each strangled cry and broken moan you wring from his throat goes straight to your aching core, your own wetness collecting between your legs and threatening to drip down your thighs. But tonight isn’t about you, so you ignore the twitching of your eager pussy in favor of sucking Keigo down as if your very life depends on it. “Gonna cum again,” he warns but that only spurs you on more as you try your hardest to take in even more of his long, thick length. You feel the head of his cock kissing the back of your throat and shortly afterwards you feel his seed pouring down it. You swallow every drop without hesitation, greedy to taste him and savoring every moment.

Again you give him no time to recover, your own neglected sex now aching to be stuffed with your lover’s cock and filled with his seed. He whimpers as you start stroking his dick again. “Fuck Dove, ‘s real sensitive, be careful,” he moans. “Do you want me to stop?” you ask but he shakes his head. “No baby, it’s ok keep going, fuck keep going. I can go again for you,” he practically mumbles and you can’t help but lean down and press the sloppiest kiss to his lips in response. You waste no time lining yourself up and then sinking down on his cock until he’s fully inside you, both of you moaning at the sensation. You experimentally give a little roll of your hips, clenching down around him as you do so, and Keigo’s reaction is immediate, hips thrusting up and curses falling from his lips. “Not gonna last long if you keep that up,” he huffs. “Don’t care, want you to fill me up,” you reply and he can only look up at you in wonder as you start to slowly lift yourself up and then sink back down on his aching cock. Your velvety walls feel like heaven around him as he moves his hands to your waist to help you along. Your eyes never leave his and the ecstasy burns through your emotional connection just as much as it does your physical one. It’s a slow, sensual grind but it still drives you both mad. When Keigo murmurs to you that he’s already getting close again, his over sensitive cock twitching inside you with every move, you just nod and clench around him, emotion swelling within you until tears roll down your cheeks. One of his hands slips from your hip to press circles into your clit. “‘M so close, can’t much longer. G’nna cum baby,” Keigo admits. “Hold out a little longer let’s cum together,” you reply and Keigo nods frantically, his finger lavishing more attention on your puffy bundle of nerves to drive you closer to the brink. The most sinful noises start to drop from your lips as you find the perfect angle to have his cock head brushing along that one spongy spot inside you. By sheer force of will, Keigo manages to hold out long enough to send you tumbling into climax first, but he swiftly follows behind you. As you sob out his name, your vaginal walls clamping and fluttering around his cock, you send him straight into his third orgasm of the night, his balls drawing up tight before releasing their load, painting your insides white with his cum and marking you as his and his alone. He’s not sure when he started crying but his cheeks are certainly wet as you lean down, both your tears and his mingling on your cheeks. “I love you, I love you, I love you so fucking much Kei you have no idea,” you sob as you press your forehead to his. You sound so heartbroken as you say it, as if scared he’s about to slip away, so he pulls you closer and whispers reassurances in your ear that only seem to make you sob harder. “(Y/n) baby, what’s wrong? It’s ok I’m right here, I’ll always be right here,” he promises as your arms wrap tightly around him. “I don’t want to lose you,” you confess. “You won’t,” he promises.

You wish that were true.

Keigo holds you until your sobbing subsides and with final whispered “I love you”s you let him think you’ve slipped into sleep. Between the exertion from his mission and the after effects of Recovery Girl’s quirk, you’re not surprised that his breathing evens out shortly after you’ve supposedly passed out. You still don’t move at first, making absolutely certain that Keigo is asleep before you slip out of his arms. You quickly get redressed before finding a duffel bag to pack up some of your stuff. At the last minute you grab one of the feathers that had fallen off when you were preening him and add it to your bag. You zip it up and heft it onto your shoulder, leaving your apartment keys on the nightstand next to Keigo. You slip out of your bedroom and into the living room, guilt and heartache crawling up your throat as you make your way to the front door. Just before you can leave a figure suddenly looms large in the doorway causing you to jump.

“Jesus Akaguro you scared the shit out of me!” you hiss once you realize who exactly is stood before you.

“You’re making a mistake,” Stain growls. “Reading other people’s messages over their shoulder is rude,” you huff. “He’s not worth it,” Stain insists and at that you tense. “I know you’ve always thought he was one of the fake heroes you despise so much, but you’re wrong. He is the best hero I’ve ever met and if anyone can fix the bullshit with hero society and the HPSC It’s him,” you insist, eyes burning with determination as you stare down your friend. Your conviction seems to stun him. He narrows his eyes as if analyzing your sincerity before finally sighing.

“Nothing I say will change your mind will it?”

“No...”

“What can I do?”

“Hug me goodbye?”

Stain nods and your hands glow red as you materialize him, tears already starting to fall from your eyes again as the reality of your situation fully sinks in. It’s not just Keigo you’re losing, it’s everyone, and that hurts even more than you expected it to. You pull Stain into you and bury your face in his shoulder to muffle the sound of your tears so as not to wake up Keigo. Akaguro is awkward at first but eventually he returns the hug. “Watch over him for me,” you plead. “I will,” Stain swears. You know he’ll keep his word and you can’t afford to stay much longer or you may lose your conviction so you pull away and give one final nod of goodbye before stepping around your friend and walking out of the door. Each step makes you feel heavier as you walk away from everything, but at no point do you regret your decision. Keigo will be safe. Or at least the safest a hero can ever be. That’s enough.

It hurts but it’s enough.

A/N: (Y/n) was always going to be taken by the HPSC but her having to make this choice was inspired by Banana fish. I warned y’all you should be worried 🤭

Taglist: @oliviasslut @theycallme-becky @vibesdontlie @superhermit @thechroniclesofawriter

[eyayah-oya]

I’ll Hold You Tight, Now and Forever

Waxer/Boil Rating: G Inspired by @cacodaemonia latest artwork

           Waxer loved mornings.  He loved waking up and getting to see the sun rise and he loved breathing in the fresh, crisp air as he went on his morning run.  Even the cold mornings filled him with a quiet joy that he’d so rarely felt before in his life.  Maybe it was the idea of new beginnings or fresh starts.  Maybe it was the way morning always invigorated him. Part of the reason Waxer loved mornings was definitely the way Boil always grumbled, his hair an absolute mess until he managed to wake up enough to get ready for the day.  Sleepy Boil was always clingier in the mornings, and Waxer never hesitated to let him cuddle in the mornings.

           Still, there was a lot to do today.  The entire town of Nabat had volunteered to help Waxer and Boil plan their big day, which was more than welcome since nearly a hundred vod’e were arriving throughout the day.  Cody and Obi-Wan would be first, as they had volunteered to help set everything up and organize sleeping space for all of the visitors.  If anyone was qualified to handle the logistics for a group that large, it was former High General Kenobi and Marshall Commander Cody.

           With a yawn, Waxer stretched and reluctantly untangled himself from Boil’s warmth.  Boil would need to get up soon, but it didn’t hurt to let him sleep in for a little while longer.  Since the war ended, he took the time to sleep in as often as possible and could be as grumpy as Commander Cody without caf in the mornings.  It was ridiculously adorable, not that Waxer would ever say that out loud.

           Waxer leaned over and gently kissed Boil on the forehead and then got dressed in his favorite sweater.  Numa’s aunt had made it for him when they first arrived on Ryloth, and it was the softest, warmest thing he’d ever owned.  Once he’d gone to the refresher and brushed his teeth, Waxer walked up the stairs and into the kitchen where he immediately set about making a pot of caf and some breakfast.  (Waxer was quite proud of the fact that he had finally managed to learn how to make a few meals for Boil.  He didn’t really care what he ate, but Boil loved how food tasted.  It was important that Waxer knew how to make at least a couple of things that were tasty.)

           As he moved around the kitchen, Waxer hummed the song that they’d been learning over the past few weeks just for today.  Apparently, it was an important tradition for the Twi’leks. Waxer just felt honored that they considered the two of them close enough to be allowed to perform the kind of ceremony that Twi’leks held in such reverence.

           “Is that caf?” Boil’s grumpy voice called from the stairwell.

           “Yup.  It’s nearly done, and so is breakfast.”  Waxer set two plates of flat cakes drizzled in a sweet fruit sauce on the table just as the caf maker chimed.  He turned to retrieve two mugs from the cupboard, only for Boil to come up behind him and wrap him in a warm hug.  Boil slowly ran his palms up and down Waxer’s arms, soothing and perfectly warm.  He couldn’t help but lean back against Boil’s chest, melting at the soft, tender intimacy of the moment.

           “Morning,” Boil rumbled as he pressed his nose against Waxer’s shoulder.

           “Good morning,” Waxer said with a soft smile.  “Made flat cakes.  They’re on the table with that syrup that Numa likes so much.”

           Boil merely hummed and squeezed him a little tighter. Waxer turned his head just enough to brush his lips against his temple.  Not many people got to see Boil this affectionate or vulnerable, especially in the mornings, and Waxer treasured every second he got to spend with him.

           “Do you want your caf?” he asked, reaching up to comb his fingers through Boil’s hair, messy from sleep.  Boil allowed the touch, melted into it even, as he nuzzled Waxer’s shoulder.  He wrapped one arm around his waist, while the other rested on Waxer’s hip, drawing him closer and half-turning him towards Boil.

           “Later.  Just wanna hold you a bit longer.”

           Waxer could only smile and revel in the close contact. They wouldn’t have any time to be alone together until that night once Numa and her aunt and uncle arrived.  They needed to savor the quiet while it lasted.

           It was moments like this that Waxer had come to treasure the most since the war ended.  Never had he expected to be able to stand in a kitchen he owned along with Boil, swaying gently as Waxer hummed quietly.  They got to see Numa every day and had found a family with her aunt and uncle and the rest of Nabat.  And later today, Waxer and Boil would get married in front of their new family and their old one using both Mandalorian and Twi’leki traditions.

           “Are you ready for today?” Waxer asked once he finished humming the traditional wedding dance.

           Boil reached up and pulled Waxer’s hand from his hair, tender and caring and so full of love that sometimes, Waxer thought he might cry from it all.  With a lingering kiss on his shoulder, Boil raised his head and pressed their temples together. “Absolutely.  Do you think Numa will agree to add a little charm representing her to our Kalikori?”

           “I hope so.  Nilim said she would be “indescribably happy” and would probably “jump off the walls in her excitement”, so I think she will,” Waxer answered, attempting to mimic Nilim Bril’s voice as he quoted Numa’s uncle.

           Boil snorted, though whether he was amused at Waxer’s impersonation or the very adorable image of Numa vibrating in place as she attempted to think of something to add to their kalikori, Waxer didn’t know. Nor did it really matter.  All that mattered was that Numa had convinced Waxer and Boil to get married and the day had finally arrived.

           “Did you ever imagine that we could have this?” Waxer asked after a moment of simply being.

           “We’re clones, Wax.  I wasn’t sure we would even make it to the end of the war.  But when you talked about wanting colored pillows and a tooka and to see Numa again, I started to want it just as much as you did. The wedding stuff came outta nowhere, though.”

           Waxer laughed.  As clones, weddings had never been an option, so they’d never even thought about getting married when they’d finally been recognized as citizens and given the same rights as everyone else in the Republic.  Not until Numa asked if he and Boil were married and then promptly began to plan their wedding when they said they weren’t.  There was no stopping Numa, and he and Boil weren’t even going to try.  Besides, the ceremony would be touching if what Numa’s aunt said was true.  And it was always nice to see Cody and Obi-Wan and countless others.

           Turning fully in Boil’s arms, Waxer kissed Boil, lips still curved with joy-filled laughter.  He pulled away and bullied his soon-to-be husband over to the table.  “Eat up.  The flat cakes are probably cold by now.”  Waxer filled their mugs with caf, fixed perfectly to their tastes, and sat down across from Boil.

           Before they could start eating in earnest, Waxer reached across the table and squeezed Boil’s hand.  “I’m glad we’re getting married,” he said softly.

           Boil returned the squeeze and there was a soft look in his eyes that never failed to make Waxer melt into a puddle.  “I’m glad, too.  We would have been together anyway, but this somehow makes everything seem more real.”

           “More like we’re people and can have a chance at a peaceful, normal life,” Waxer nodded.

           A knock thundered through their small house, and Waxer immediately got up to go let in Numa, her aunt, and half the town elders. He murmured a soft “I love you” against the side of Boil’s head as he passed, and then their day went from peaceful to chaotic in preparation for their wedding.  Waxer couldn’t help but beam.

             (A newly fashioned kalikori sat on their bedside table, two small pieces of armor hung from the arms.  One had a stylized Kom’rk class Mandalorian fighter painted, with the rest of Boil’s batchmates’ names etched around the design.  Waxer had added his own batchmates and the various squadmates they’d lost over the years.  Men they’d gotten close to and considered brothers.  Connected to both pieces of armor and dangling below was a tiny tooka charm, painted the same shade of green as Numa’s skin.  A perfect representation of Waxer and Boil’s family, past, present, and future.)

[letarasstuff]

Panic, Love and Take Out

Summary: Midterms are hard on all of us, even on a genuis’ daughter

Warnings: Angst, but it’s a fluffy end, I promise 🥺, panic attack, mentions of school (lets admit, we all got  trauma from school), stress, language (I think there’s one swear word?)

Word count: 1.6k

✨Masterlist✨

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“When you get home, you do your calculus homework first. Then you write this essay for history. After that you have to solve the problems from your chemistry class. Wait. It would be better if I do it after calculus”, (Y/N) talks to herself on her way home.

Midterms are around the door and the teachers think giving their students 30 hours worth of homework is the best way to help them study. Sadly they don’t see that it gives them nothing but stress pimples.

“I’m home!” she calls into the apartment while hanging up her coat. Like it occurs in 90% of all cases the teenager is greeted with silence. Her father has yet to come home.

After a little snack (a granola bar and an apple from the kitchen counter) she goes up into her room starting on her homework.

It’s not like all the things she does are due tomorrow or anytime soon. (Y/N) likes to get a head start on her work. So time won’t come and bite her in the end, because she procrastinated too much.

Though this attitude is something everyone envies her for, the downsides of it are just straight up destructive.

Since the amount of assignments doesn’t seem to shrink (Y/N) is constantly worrying about it. She can’t help it. It keeps her awake at night to know what she has to do and it bugs her that she lays awake and does nothing to help the situation.

“One down, only two left”, she mutters, putting her folder for calc away. It’s nearing dinner time, but (Y/N) doesn’t even dream about taking a break.

In her hyper focused state she doesn’t notice three important things:

1. The ever increasing clicking of her ball point pen

2. Her faster shaking leg

3. The front door opening and closing

“Honey, I’m home!” Spencer shouts. The absence of an answer makes his eyebrows furrow. His daughter should be home by now. Her shoes and jacket are neatly on the rack, indicating she must be there. Whenever he announces his arrival she is there to greet him.

“Hey honey, what are you doing there?” he asks, entering her room. The doctor stands in the doorway to take the picture in:

(Y/N) is bent over several notebooks. Textbooks litter the floor and an empty mug stands out between dozens of colored pens on her desk.

“Hi dad. Just getting some homework done. How was work?” She tries to make small talk, but it’s obvious that her focus lays elsewhere.

“It was fine, just a paper work day. When did you take a break? I was thinking about ordering dinner tonight. We could try this new chinese place Morgan recommended. We also can catch up on the newest episodes of Doctor Who. How does that sound?”

“Sounds good, but I have to get this done. Maybe I can join you later” (Y/N) excuses herself.

“Are you sure? It won’t hurt you to take a little time off. Actually your brain needs breaks between every 30 and 90 minutes in between study sessions. So I advise you to take one in order to avoid frustration because of exhaustion”, Spencer tries to convince her.

But the problem is that (Y/N) is her father’s daughter and can be as stubborn and ambitious as he is.

“I know that, dad. I promise it won’t take any longer until I’m finished. Just go ahead and order and begin watching.”

Defeated, the profiler leaves her room. He knows there is nothing he can do for now except for waiting. (Y/N) needs to come to him on her own.

But if she is honest with herself, she isn’t anywhere near being done. Her chemistry work takes longer than originally thought and her whole schedule is in delay. This only adds up on her already high amount of stress. The coffee she drank earlier to stay alert and awake doesn’t help the situation either.

What feels like only minutes later, which is actually half an hour, Spencer reappears in her doorway with a box of take out in his hands.

“Hey (Y/N), the food is here. Do you wanna join me on the sofa?” He asks gingerly. As her father he knows that it won’t take much now to make her explode. But this is exactly what happens.

“No dad, I don’t want to join you. Can’t you see that I’m busy? Not everybody has an IQ of 187 and just needs to read something once and can recite it like a damn robot. Now can you leave me alone for god’s sake?!”

Throughout her angry rant (Y/N) looks at her father with rueful eyes. He always knows that her outbursts, which are extremely rare for a teenager, are never meant to hurt him. It’s just the stress getting to her.

“Ok, honey. Just keep in mind where you can find me. I Love you and don’t overwork yourself.” He quickly closes the door. Spencer stood eye to eye with the worst scum on the planet, but his angry teenage daughter never fails to scare him at least a bit. So he tries to give her all the room she needs to get a clear head again.

(Y/N) on the other hand can’t feel any worse. Not only is she super antsy and stressed, now she also feels bad going off on her dad just like this. She knows he only wants to help her and she really is grateful for that, but in situations like this it’s difficult for her to keep her calm.

As the girl continues to write her essay, she realizes her father is right. Of course she is, she herself knows all the facts and stats there are about studying. Still she chooses to ignore them until it’s too late.

The longer she tries to form coherent sentences the trickier it gets. Which only frustrates her further, which only stresses her more.

“I’m so useless. I can’t even write about a subject I’m really interested in. I’m so dumb, god it hurts,” (Y/N) mumbles to herself. She can’t stop her train of thoughts from getting darker, all the stress now catching up to her mind.

In her state she loses the grip on her pen, letting it fall on the paper and splattering little droplets of ink. Her breath begins to get uneven, unfortunately a familiar feeling for (Y/N). At least she knows what to do.

The girl scrambles into the living room, where Spencer sits on the sofa like he told her earlier.

With shaking legs and a panic filled mind she looks at him, her eyes wide open. “D-dad. I-i-i” she doesn’t need to elaborate further. Not that she would be able to.

Sadly Spencer is experienced with the situation. He is quick to put her down in a chair, pressing her head between her legs. He draws with one hand circles on her back, the other is clenched in hers.

“Shh, (Y/N). Breath we me. We go in for six seconds, hold it for seven and let it go for eight. We can do it together” the doctor instructs her.

They do it until (Y/N)’s breathing is back under her control. She straightens her back again, still holding her dad’s hand in a deadbolt grip.

“I’m so-”

“No, there’s nothing to apologize for. What about we eat dinner and after that we do something repetitive. You really like doing these friendship bracelets, don’t you? I thought about it when I was shopping a few days ago and bought thread. Maybe you can teach me?”

At that his daughter begins to smile agreeing to the plan.

Not long after this, the small family sits next to each other. Old reruns of Doctor Who play in the background. Under softly told instructions Spencer ties his first bracelet. He knows that it is something little children do, but the repetitive pattern of movements help (Y/N) to calm fully down before she crashes down in exhaustion.

Like said before, it wasn’t her first panic attack. But she gets better.

“You know, you can always talk to me. I know school is stressing you out right now. But never forget, that your health, physically and mentally, is more important than any number on a piece of paper. And I will love you forever, nothing will ever change that”, he says after a time of silence. (Y/N) sighs.

“I know. It’s just, I want to do good. I want you to be proud of me”, she confesses. It’s hard for her to open up, but now seems like the perfect moment.

“I’m already proud of you. Hell, you could paint a pile of poop golden and I would be the proudest parent out there. Your accomplishments don’t define you as a human. They don’t determine your worth or are an indicator of your skills and knowledge. I love you, no matter what you do. I will always support you. I just want you to be happy and healthy.”

“Thanks dad. I love you too. Even though you are sometimes a real pain with your ‘know it better’ attitude”, she jokes and puts her head on her father’s shoulder. He slings his arm around her shoulders, making her snuggle into him further.

So the father and daughter sit there blissfully, basking in each other’s presence.

[actress4him]

Overexposure - Punishment

(Prompt #3 for Whump of July)

I haven’t been in a writing mood much lately. Then suddenly last night, I realized writing wasn’t the issue, the issue was that everything I was working on or had planned was angst, and as much as I like angst, I was in the mood to beat the crap out of somebody. Ellery seemed like a good candidate. Sorry Ellery (but not really). This also happened to line up with today’s Whump of July prompt!

Taglist: @inky-whump , @michelleswhumpyreblogs Previous | Next | Masterlist

Warnings: lady whumpee (male whumper), creepy/intimate whumper, restraints, gag, claustrophobia, broken ribs, mild blood, torture, graphic burns, mild gore, mild emeto, mild dehumanization

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He hadn’t even bothered to uncuff her or remove the gag. What seemed like hours had passed inside that tiny, dark closet, curled up uncomfortably on the floor with bottles and broom handles pressing into her from all sides and waiting for Lucas to come back for her. When he had finally appeared, he had yanked her up and herded her out to his car, popping the trunk and shoving her inside. It was terrifying. Not only because she’d never been locked in a trunk before, but because she knew he was still furious at her. Whatever she was headed back to, it was going to be bad.

Now they’re back at his house, she’s out of the trunk, but by the way he’s dragging her by the arm through the halls she almost wishes she was back in it. He opens the door to the basement and maneuvers her until she’s in front, still propelling her forward despite the fact that she’s fighting not to stumble in her one heel and one bare foot.

One moment his grip is leaving finger-shaped bruises in her skin. The next moment she’s pitching forward and his hand is gone. Ellery only has a split second to panic before she’s hitting the stairs, hard, pain shooting up through her hip, but then she’s flipping and tumbling and sliding and it’s all just a blur of falling and hurt until she comes to an abrupt halt by slamming into the concrete floor at the bottom. 

Then she screams through her gag.

Everything hurts. Whatever meager healing her ribs had been able to manage has been completely undone, her whole side is on fire. It’s very possible that there are even more broken ones now than before. Her stomach hurts, her arms hurt, her legs hurt, she’s pretty sure she caught her foot on a step at some point because her ankle really, actually feels twisted now. Something is making the side of her head feel warm, and it’s doubtful it’s anything good.

Lucas drops into a crouch next to her, looking her body up and down before settling his gaze on her face. “You’re incredibly lucky that I was able to come up with a convincing lie tonight, Princess. But a breakdown like that, in public, can’t ever happen again. Once, I can make them buy anything. Twice, it’s gonna be a lot harder. Which means I’ve gotta make sure that you remember your lesson tonight.”

She nods, vigorously, despite the stabbing pain in her temple at the motion. Yes, yes, I’ve learned my lesson, please… but Lucas isn’t even watching her. He’s already stood and moved away to the shelving unit, browsing to see what kind of torture tool he can find. 

“Ooh! Haven’t tried this yet.”

The phrase makes her heart stop beating without even knowing what he’s referring to. But when he turns and strides back toward her with a candle lighter held proudly in his hand, it kicks into double time. 

No no no no, please, don’t, please no… It all comes out as a pathetic series of grunts and moans as she kicks against the floor, trying and failing to move away from him. Lucas straddles her, still standing and holding that lighter, and reaches down to flip her over by her arm. There’s suddenly far too much air hitting her bare back. Ellery sobs, still futilely pulling at the cuffs as if she can somehow escape her fate. 

She’s not at all prepared for the flame to hit her skin. She’s been burned before, of course she has, she likes to cook and burns come along with that. But those were quick. Accidental. The brief touch of a finger to a pot fresh off the stove, the bump of an arm against an oven door. 

Lucas flicks on the lighter, brings it up to her shoulder blade, and holds it there. Holds it while she screams and cries, while her skin begins to bubble and char. Sits down on her legs to keep her still so she can’t squirm away from him.

“Fascinating.” He leans in closer, studying the mess he’s made. Ellery has to assume that the lighter is turned off now, but she can’t feel it. Her shoulder hurts just as much now as it did a few seconds ago, and the smell of burnt flesh makes her retch.

“I’ve never gotten to watch something like that before. You know, I’ve never been much of a drawing, painting type of artist, but I bet…”

The lighter turns back on. She knows for sure now, because it drags across her back, slowly, leaving a scorched line behind it. The only good news is that it draws her mind away from the pain of the first burn. Without being fully aware that she’s doing it, she tries again to pull away. It’s instinctual. Something is hurting her, and her body wants to escape. But Lucas just uses his free hand to press her shoulder down into the concrete, and continues the waving motions over her back. Between the tears and the pain, she can’t see straight, can’t even think. All she can do is sob and choke out broken off wails and pray that it will end soon.

It doesn’t.

Nearly every inch of her back has been burned by the time Lucas finally gets off of her. He even yanked at and ripped the dress at one point to get to more skin. She’s not sure how she’s still conscious. She wishes she wasn’t.

Standing, Lucas stretches, cracks his knuckles, and admires his work. “Hm. Not necessarily professional quality, but not half-bad, I’d say. Can’t wait to see how it looks tomorrow, or when it scars. Gonna make some interesting photos, that’s for sure.” He yawns, stretches again. “I’m beat tonight, though. Come on, Princess.”

He leans down and grabs her by the arm again, actually being slightly patient as she struggles to get up now that he’s got the anger out of his system. Every movement, no matter how small, sends burning waves rippling across her back, and more tears slipping down her cheeks. Guiding her back into her cell, he finally unlocks the cuffs, though bringing her arms around to the front makes her dizzy with pain. 

“Be good in the morning and maybe I’ll get you some cream for those. Don’t wanna do it too soon, though, ‘cause I wanna make sure they scar good.”

The door closes and locks, and Ellery sinks slowly, stiffly, onto her bed, trembling all over, his words echoing in her head. She’d been naïve to think that she’d get out of this place without any scars.

Maybe she’s naïve to think she’ll get out of here at all.

For the longest time she just sits there on the edge of the bed, consumed by the pain, unable to make herself move. It feels like it’s burning through her core, eating away at her insides, that soon she’ll be able to look down and see the front of her dress bursting into flames. She’s never felt so much pain at once in her life. 

Eventually, she convinces one arm to lift, to gently, slowly tug off the glove on her sleeveless arm that hid her broken finger. It hurts, but she does it. Lifting both arms to remove the necklace hurts worse, but she does it, too. When she tries to stand, though, desperately needing a drink of water from the sink in the corner, it’s too much. She falls immediately back to her knees and loses the meager contents of her stomach. 

The combined pain from her back and broken ribs is finally enough to send her over the edge and into blissful unconsciousness.

It’s not until the next day, when she’s able to glance over her shoulder at her reflection upstairs while she’s prepped for photos, that she sees fully what he did to her. Angry, raised red lines cover her back in an intricate, swirling pattern. Like she’s a canvas. An object, simply there to decorate and be decorated. It’s the way Lucas has always treated her. 

And maybe he’s right. Maybe that’s all she really is.

[retroellie]

can you do an ellie x joel's daughter!reader headcanon or imagine? maybe like set during the first game when they are like first getting to know each other and bonding (and developing crushes on each other 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩)

Summary: Joel daughter’s falling in love with ellie 

A/N: UGHHH my heart melted at the thought of this, Thank you for requesting<3 Also i’m sorry i suck at writing Imagines and yes i did express my love for David Bowie, what about it?

Warning: None, just innocent teenage love :) 

Word count: 1.8K 

You watched her laugh, throwing her head back in a fit of laughter. Sam was telling her jokes he had heard and she laughed at every single one.  It wasn’t fair, you should’ve been the one making her laugh, you wanted to be the reason but Sam dropped in and whisked her away from you. 

You gripped onto your book, not able to concentrate on the jumble of words, too distracted by the laughter coming from the two of them. You weren’t used to feeling jealous, there weren’t too many people you felt jealous towards but this felt horrible. It felt like someone was hanging food above your head and you were starving but you were a few inches too short. 

You have been through hell and back, you saw your mom die in front of you, you have killed so many people that you almost feel numb to the feeling of it. So why did this feeling hurt so much, why did it feel like your heart was being stomped on. Were you finally at your breaking point? 

“Hey kiddo.” A voice interrupted your thoughts 

You looked up from your book, it was your dad. He gave you a comforting smile and plopped down next to you. 

“Hey dad..” You replied, He was bruised up from the group you guys had run into on the way here. 

“How are you holding up?” He asked, placing a hand on your knee. 

“I'm okay,” You said, your voice trailing off and your eyes lingering over the book hoping he wouldn’t read into your answer. 

You weren’t sure how to feel anymore, everything was coming at you so quickly that you haven’t had time to process it. New emotions that you didn’t even know you could feel and old ones that you feel too often. Grief, loss, jealousy... love? 

“How about you put that book down and get some sleep, huh?” He said, shutting the book. 

“I was just getting to the good part.” You chuckled, looking over at him. 

He shook his head and grabbed the book from you, setting it on a near table. He got up, allowing you to fully lay down. You rolled up in a ball, the coldness sending shivers down your spine. 

“I will never know where you get your smarts..” He joked, placing his jacket over you. 

You cuddled up underneath it, suddenly exhausted. You hadn’t noticed how you haven’t slept in almost 24 hours, you all had been on the move ever since meeting sam and henry only resting once through it all. 

“Get some sleep kiddo, you need the rest.” He smiled down at you, turning to leave. 

He walked to the other side of the room, next to henry. They were cleaning up after dinner, getting ready for bed. You looked over at Sam and Ellie once more, they both sleepily told stories and dreams they had. Your eyes had fallen heavy and you could feel yourself being consumed by sleep. 

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You were asleep for a couple hours before you woke up, the quietness of the room creeped you out. You weren’t able to fall back asleep so you decided to get up and go read in the moonlight. You crept around the sleeping bags and backpacks that had been thrown around lazily. 

You found a comfortable looking windowsill you could sit on and opened your book. The book was some old book you found in a cafe you had been through, it was about a red headed girl that didn’t fit in and was just trying to find her way through life, find her purpose. You enjoyed it, feeling connected to the character somehow. 

“Can’t sleep?” A voice said from the darkness, causing you to flinch. 

You snapped your head toward the voice, ready to grab anything to protect yourself with. It was Ellie, your body relaxed a little bit. She chuckled at your alertness. 

“No, it’s too quiet here.” You replied, setting your book down. 

She walked slowly over to the windowsill you were sat on and took a seat next to you. She gave you a small smile, that tiny smile made your heart do flip flops. 

“Right, the QZ’s, they can be loud huh?” She said, turning her attention to the window. 

You’ve never had time to really study her face, you didn’t notice the freckles dotted across her face or how green her eyes were. She would be pretty painted on a piece of paper, with all kinds of greens and peaches creating a perfect masterpiece. 

“Would you ever go back?” She started. “I mean to a QZ?” She turned her attention towards you, her green eyes boring into your skin. 

“I mean I don't think we can go back to Boston. '' You remembered, you never really let that sink in. What the fuck were you guys gonna do now. “But even if i could, i wouldn’t.” 

She chuckled, she wanted to draw you especially right now. The moonlight brought out your eyes, making them more prominent and dreamy. She was afraid she would fall into them if she kept staring at them. 

“I thought i liked it at the QZ but now that i’m here i don’t think i ever wanna go back.” She looked back up at you.” it’s so pretty out here.”  You nodded, looking at anything but her eyes. 

“My mom really wanted to get out of the city.” You stated. “She and my dad always wanted to fix up an old farmhouse.” You smiled at the dream you all had, knowing now it will never happen. 

Your mom was always a fighter, hell she even died one, but she was a dreamer at heart. You were proud to be like your mom, she was the only person in the world who saw things in a different way, that was until you met ellie. 

“Hey,” Ellie attempted to get your attention. You gave it to her, looking up at her. “I’m sorry about your mom, she was a really good person.” You could tell she was trying to make you feel better but it was hardly working, but you just smiled anyways. 

“Thanks.” You chuckled. “You know, she was the only person who didn’t make me feel any less than others because of who I am. Now that she’s gone i don’t know what to feel.” 

Ellie remained silent, letting you talk and she actually listened. She was easy to talk to, you never really told anyone what you were feeling but of all the people you had met she just felt different. 

“That reminds me of my best friend riley.” She spoke, breaking the silence. “I’ve never really had a home or a family to love but she felt like both.” She fumbled with her fingers, her nervousness evident. 

“And where is she right now?” You asked. 

She fell silent for a minute, suddenly her nervousness dropped to utter sadness. You thought you said something you shouldn’t, not sure how to fix it. You just let her take her time, sitting there with her, the two of you alone... together. 

“She got infected.” She finally said. You could feel your heart break for her, the one person she had taken from her. Ellie was completely alone. 

You don’t know what came over you but you didn’t know what to do and you were so heart broken, so when you wrapped your arms around her and pulled her close, it surprised both of you. You both stayed like that for a moment, the shock causing Ellie to freeze up but she soon melted into your arms. She wrapped her arms around you, pulling you closer. 

She would be lying if she said she didn’t have butterflies in her stomach right now. You could stay wrapped in her arms forever, it was so warm and cozy something you didn’t feel a lot in this world.

You both stayed like that for a minute, not sure when to pull away. But you guys finally did and when you did you both were blushing up a storm. Ellie looked out the window once more, trying to cover her red face while you looked in the complete opposite direction trying to hide yours.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that, you just seemed upset and I....”

“No no, it’s fine” she interrupted, looking over at you. “I needed it.”

You blushed even more, all the blood rushed to your face made you lightheaded. There was a deep nervousness in your stomach, the thoughts of you messing up your entire friendship with Ellie made you sick to your stomach.

The self-deprecating thoughts zoomed through your head, calling yourself every single stupid name there was. You didn’t want to mess what little you had with Ellie up, what if she doesn’t like you now??

“Y/N” she said, getting your attention once more. “When we get older and after they find a cure... let’s buy a farmhouse together.”

Your heart could beat out of your chest right now, you could die a happy death. All your worries about messing everything up melted away with that single statement. You smiled, looking down at your dangling feet. 

“As long as i can get a horse, i’m down.” You chuckled, leaning against the window. 

She smirked, watching your every move. There was a tension that arose that was never really there before, it wasn’t an uncomfortable tension. This was the first time you had ever felt calm on this entire trip, actually looking forward to the cure now. 

“What would you name the horse?” she asked, trying anything to keep the conversation going. She found she really enjoyed talking to you. 

“Hmmm.” You thought for a minute. “Bowie.” You said, smirking over at her. 

“Bowie?” She asked. 

“Yeah, like David Bowie?” You said, watching as her face contoured into confusion. “Like the singer?” You said in disbelief. 

“Doesn’t ring any bells.” She replied, a blush forming on her face. 

You shook you head, wondering how anyone could not know who David fucking Bowie was. Even through the apocalypse he was an icon. 

“Well then, I have so much to teach you.” You joked. 

She smirked, looking down at her hands. She knew she had some kind of feelings for you but this interaction just confirmed her feelings. She didn’t know what love felt like but she had an idea of what it felt like and it’s what she felt now. She could fall in love with you. 

“Can’t wait.” She said with a smirk, hopping off the windowsill. “Goodnight.”

You watched as she walked away into the darkness, when she was finally out of sight you let out a small sigh. Your stomach did turns and your cheeks hurt from smiling, you’ve never had a crush before. 

You weren’t sure what you felt towards her but you liked the feeling, it felt like what the authors described love in the 19th century. It was no other feeling like it. 

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(Credits to gif owner)

[captain-josslett]

Broken Melody - Part Twenty

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten, Part Eleven, Part Twelve, Part Thirteen, Part Fourteen, Part Fifteen, Part Sixteen, Part Seventeen, Part Eighteen, Part Nineteen...

Summary: Grammy Award winning Emma Danvers is the first to say she has a pretty good life. But what happens when it implodes around her and it looks like things will never be the same again?

Words: 5.8k+

Warnings: Angst, Fluff.

Pairings: Emma Danvers x Lena Luthor

This Part: Emma tries to work through everything and continues to struggle with not seeing her sisters.

So, so, sorry it’s been a while since updating. I’ve started a full time job and my mind just hasn’t been able to write 😅 But I do get to daydream when I work so I have loads of ideas stored away and hopefully will be able to update quicker.

Thank you for reading and let me know if you wanna be tagged or any general feedback will be greatly appreciated. Please! I like knowing your thoughts.

Taglist: @finleyfray​​, @life-is-hella-unfair​, @natasha-danvers​, @supergirl-writingz​, @camslightstories​, @thinking1bee​, @aznblossom​,

Ten year old Emma Danvers jumps awake when she hears a blood curdling scream. For a few moments she blinks into her dark room, confused at the noise that woke her. But when a softer wail fills the silence Emma quickly rolls out of bed. Recognising the cries coming from her recently adopted kryptonian sister, Kara.

Emma pads out of her small room and into the hallway, yawning and tiredly rubbing her eyes as she gently pushes Alex and Kara’s bedroom door open. Kara’s whimpering increases in volume as Emma enters the room. She softly closes the door behind her and quietly tiptoes over to Kara’s bed.

Emma sadly looks over at her oldest sister, Alex, who is turned away from the crying alien. Seemingly ignoring Kara’s pain. This annoys Emma greatly and the sisters have already argued over it. The blonde had even offered to swap rooms with Alex but the redhead stubbornly refused saying it was her room.

“Kara?” Emma whispers softly and waits for the crying figure to respond. Tearful blue eyes peer over the shaking duvet before quickly disappearing again.

Emma looks mournfully down at the other blonde as she thinks of ways to help her. After a few moments Emma lifts the corner of the covers and climbs into Kara’s bed. She gently reaches out and hugs Kara close, remembering how her Mom would comfort her after she’d have a bad dream.  

Her new sister flinches slightly at the touch but soon Emma feels Kara settle and maneuver around to hug her back. The alien starts to shake as she tries to stifle her sobs into Emma’s shoulder.

Emma’s heart aches at the sound. She pulls her head back so she can see Kara’s face. The night light illuminates Kara’s flushed cheeks and bloodshot eyes. “No, it’s okay to cry. Mom said you get sick if you try to keep your tears in.” Emma tries to encourage the alien. Though she doesn’t know if Kara can fully understand her yet. However, Kara’s face scrunches up and fresh tears fall.

“It’s okay.” Emma says soothingly while stroking her hair.

“S-s-sing?” Kara gulps out and buries her head back into Emma’s little shoulder.

“Which one?” Emma asks softly and Kara thinks for a moment but shakes her head as she sniffs heavily. “Okay.” Emma purses her lips forward as she thinks about the other songs she has sung to Kara. “I got it.”

Somewhere over the rainbow, Way up high, There’s a land that I’ve heard of, Once in a lullaby.

Emma immediately feels Kara relaxing as she continues to quietly sing. The sisters had recently watched ‘The Wizard of Oz’ with Kara because Emma wanted to show her new sister one of her favourite films. The alien had truly been fascinated with the movie and Emma couldn’t help but watch Kara’s reactions to certain parts. How Kara’s face lit up when Dorthy opened the door to a world of colour or how freaked out Kara got when the Wicked Witch appeared in a plume of red smoke and disappearing in a blaze of fire.

Somewhere over the rainbow, Bluebirds fly, Birds fly over the rainbow, Why then oh why can’t I?

As Emma nears the end of the song Kara’s sobs start to die down, being replaced with shuddering breaths. The twelve year old alien clings tightly to the little human, the pressure hurts Emma slightly but she knows Kara doesn’t mean to hurt her and she is not use to her super strength yet.

Emma stares over at Alex’s back. Not knowing if the redhead was awake or asleep. But Emma guesses she is awake by how she is breathing. Silently Emma hopes her oldest sister will come around to Kara.

Yes it had been a shock when Superman brought his older, but now younger, alien cousin to them but Emma was overcome with curiosity and intrigue over the other blonde. She tried to communicate with the alien and found a way through hand gestures and persistence. Repeating words for Kara and pointing items out. Mainly important things like water, food, Star Wars and everything a ten year old finds important. Once Eliza found Emma talking to the Kryptonian about the different plants and vegetables in the garden and Kara patiently listened. Fascinated by the texture of the leaves and the words Emma was saying. Both missing the scowling glare Alex was giving them from her bedroom window.

Emma then presented the wooden swords her dad had made. Giving Kara Alex’s and demonstrating how to sword fight. Soon the two blonde’s were giggling while twirling around and bashing each other’s swords. Until Alex furiously stormed over to them and took her sword away from Kara. Grumbling it was hers and she was going to break it. Jeremiah immediately set to work making Kara one of her own. Which the two blonde’s watched with tilted heads.

But when Jeremiah told them to go play and leave him to concentrate Emma took Kara back into the house, trying to figure out more things to show her new sister. She had already displayed her seashell collection, which Kara analysed deeply and Emma noticed a crinkle appearing between the other blonde’s eyebrows.

Emma looks around the house and her eyes fall on her art supplies. Making Kara jump when she claps her hands together in excitement.

“I hope you like art! Alex doesn’t really, which is sad but she likes her own things. Like reading. Reading is okay but I much prefer doing something.” Emma smiles at Kara who smiles politely. “Have a seat.” Emma points at the dining room table and Kara complies. The ten year old then pulls out all of her art supply to show Kara. She watched as the alien’s blue eyes lit up behind her glasses.

“Did you do art on Krypton?” Emma asks, happy that she may have found something Kara enjoys.

Kara nods and the pair quietly sit for hours as they draw and paint. Emma didn’t mind Kara using most of the red paint and was pleased she thought of a good idea.

She hardly sees Alex, seemingly too moody that she wasn’t the centre of attention in the Danvers household anymore. Keeping to herself and barely talking to her baby sister.

Weeks turned into months and slowly Alex seemed to warm up to the new addition to the family. Especially when Kara defended Emma against a group of bullies. Standing with her little sister and ready to defend her. Alex marched over and stood next to her side, ready to punch any bully in the face that hurts either of her sisters. This was the moment Kara uttered her family motto, explaining they were stronger together.

The three started to become closer over time and would regularly be found in the forest by their home playing and having adventures.

On one such occasion a fifteen year old Alex and twelve year old Emma teamed up together as heroes to try and take down the evil villain that was destroying their town of Midvale.

“Psfft I don’t see the target. Over.” Emma quietly talks into the walkie talkie and holds her wooden sword tightly in her other hand.

“Please tell me you did not just make the static noise?” Alex laughs while rolling her eyes.

“Ah come on Al! Plus you need to say over. Over.”

“Fine.” Alex sasses back. “Over.” The redhead continues to look around, listening intently for the fourteen year old Kara. Having a sneaky suspicion that her alien sister was using her powers. Which was against the rules.

“Psttf I have an idea. Over” Emma’s voice whispers out from the walkie talkie.

“And what is that?” Alex responds quickly. “Over.”

“What if we do what that guy did in that movie. Over.”

“Vague… We watch loads of movies dork.” Alex rolls her eyes again at her little sister’s comment. She twirls her bow in her hand as she waits for Emma’s response.

“You know he sacrifices himself. Draws the evil guy out and gives the hero a chance to defeat them. Over.”

“Not a bad idea. Especially if you are the bait.” Alex chuckles and shakes her head. “Over.”

“Let’s do it by the fallen tree in the clearing? You can hide and I’ll call for her. Over.” Alex smirks at the excitement within Emma’s voice.

“Sure Peanut. Over.”

Alex quietly jogs to the huge fallen tree. Constantly on the lookout for Kara. But her adopted alien sister is nowhere to be seen. As Alex approaches the clearing she sees Emma step out of the other end and start to look around. Their eyes immediately connect, as if Emma could sense where she was and Alex quickly hides within some bushes and waits. Readying her bow and arrow. Making sure the arrow was a dummy that would only sting Emma slightly if she got in the way.

Emma waits for Alex to get into position and cups her hands over her mouth, yelling loudly. “Kara?! Hey Kara!” She waits and soon enough a blur appears before her. “Hey! You used your powers!”

“Well as a villain of course I would!” Kara bites back slyly with a grin.

“You really are evil!” Emma gasps dramatically, raising a hand to her chest.

“And when I am finished with you I will hunt your sister down and hurt her! And your little dog too!” Kara slowly takes a few menacing steps towards Emma who stands her ground.

“No! Not Alex and Toto!” Emma’s eyes fill with tears. Alex is always blown away that her baby sister can cry on demand and would often use her sister’s talent to get extra treats from their Mom or sitter.

“Little one?” Kara asks, concerned enough to break character.

“They are fake, keep going! You’re doing really well!” Emma gives Kara a smile before filling her eyes with tears again. “You will never get away with this!” Emma yells dramatically, pointing at Kara.

‘Give her the damn Oscar!’ Alex thinks with a smile as she watches the blonde’s.

Kara nods and puts a sly smirk back on her face. “But I already have!”

“No! You will never win! Good always defeats evil, you piece of bantha fodder!”

Alex snorts at Emma’s Star Wars reference and readies herself, knowing she’ll need to spring out at any moment.

“How dare you insult me! Me the mistress of all evil! You are nothing but the dirt on the bottom of my shoe!” Kara yells as she reaches for her wooden sword. Emma circles around so Kara’s back is to their eldest sister. “Now prepare to meet your doom!”

“Not if I can help it!” Alex suddenly appears behind them and fires her bow and arrow at the blonde. Hitting Kara’s right shoulder where it harmlessly falls to the ground.

“No! Ow!” Kara screams and collapses to her knees. “Damn you!” She coughs comically and falls to the floor.

Emma snorts and places a hand over her mouth.

“Emma! It’s rude to mock the dead.” Alex scolds her little sister.

“Sorry.” The blonde tries to wipe the smile off her face and make her expression natural.

“Who says I’m dead?” Kara’s muffled voice pipes up from the ground.

“Well the arrow would have been made out of a substance that could kill you and due to my excellent marksmanship it went through your heart. Killing you instantly.” Alex explains as she twirls the bow around.

Kara lifts her head up and smirks at the redhead. “You hit me in the right shoulder. My heart is on the left dummy.”

Emma snorts again which erupts into loud laughter when Alex glares at her. “Great shooting Alex!”

“Which means… Sneak attack!” Kara yells while pulling Emma onto the floor and starts tickling her.

“Nooo!!” Emma screams with laughter and tries to get out of her sister’s grip. “Please! Stop! Argh! Alex! Help!”

The redhead watches the pair with amusement before stepping in. “I’ll help you!” Alex yells theatrically. But instead of aiding Emma she joins in with Kara.

“Traitor!” Emma gasps out. “You’re… My sister!”

“And? Maybe I purposefully aimed for Kara’s right shoulder to take down the real villain!”

“Dun dun dunnnnn!” Kara laughs out as she continues ticking the thrashing blonde.

“Please stop! I’m gonna pee!” Tears of laughter stream down Emma’s face and the sisters finally stop their attack.

Alex smirks at her baby sister as Emma wipes the tears from her face, the redhead then looks up at the sky. “It’s getting late, we better head back.” She stands to her feet and holds out her hands for her sisters to take, helping Kara and Emma stand. The sister’s turn towards home and walk together in unison, laughing and joking together. Ready to take on the world.

-- -- --

Present day Emma stares out of the DEO window while plucking at her guitar while her mind wanders through her memories with her sisters. Though she can’t really remember the time before Kara came. To her Kara has always been there.

Slowly her mind starts to filter through the session she had with Alistair. They had worked on her fuzzy memories of the attack. How they are slowly coming back into focus but seemingly her brain was protecting her by blocking most of it out. Emma had projected the hurtful words spoken by her sisters that Emma does remember. That a part of her believes making her insecurities bubble up to the surface.

Lily, Alistair’s white german shepherd, had almost instantly jumped up on Emma’s bed and placed her head in Emma’s lap. Staying there throughout the session. Helping to ground Emma and when she got emotional or experienced a flashback, Lily had been a comforting presence.

A noise by Emma’s open door draws her attention away from the window. Standing in the hall was a transfixed Winn with Brainy and Nia behind him.

Emma smirks and waves at the trio. Stopping the music seemingly snaps them out of their trance.

“Hi Em.” Winn smiles brightly as he approaches one of the chairs around Emma’s bed. Emma returns his smile but it is more subdued. “You okay?” He frowns at the blonde, noticing her lack of a smile. He places the food container on the tray table by Emma and she nods while pulling the table closer to her. Her smile brightens slightly when she sees the sausages, vegetables and mash potato.

“Doctor Hamilton said you can start trying some form of solid foods and as I know you like that British restaurant down the road we thought lunch could be a bit more international.”

‘So the Tai food the other day wasn’t international enough for you?’ Emma wants to say but doesn’t write it down. Instead letting out a breathy snort as she starts cutting into the food.

“Oh yea Doc also said to cut it up real small. Chew lots before swallowing” Winn lists off the instructions Doctor Hamilton had told him while opening his container. Watching as Emma nods in response. “Enjoy your bangers and mash!”

Emma lets out a breathy laugh, remembering the weird names the Brits call their food. ‘Spotted Dick’ being her favourite by far. Not believing they would call a fruit, sponge dessert by that name, but had been proved wrong when the amused waiter brought the pudding out for Emma to try. Despite the very off putting name, Emma thoroughly enjoyed it. Almost having to fight off her bandmates to eat all of it in peace.

“Have you been to the UK Winn?” Nia asks, filling the silence.

“Yea I have. Both future and present.”

Emma lifts an eyebrow in response. Wondering what life is like in the future and being frustrated that Winn was keeping so tight lipped about it all.

“Awesome! I haven’t yet but it’s on my bucket list.” Nia replies enthusiastically, a longing look fills her eyes.

“Did you know the British public consume over sixty billion cups of tea a year. Around 100 million each day.” Brainy chimes into the conversation, causing Nia and Winn to gape at him about the statistic.

Emma continues to listen to her friends talking. Wishing she could join in and tell them about her time in the UK. But also being aware of how painfully slow conversation flows when she has to write everything down.

Sighing deeply Emma shoves more food in her mouth. Thankful that Winn chose something she enjoys. To be fair Emma likes anything. Other than Marmite… A disgusting yeast spread that half of Brits like. One of her stage managers in the UK dared Emma to try it. Making the blonde gag and causing her to drink loads of water to get rid of the horrible taste in her mouth.

“Emma?” Nia calls out, breaking Emma’s train of thought. “You’ve been to the UK many times right?” Emma nods. “Have you seen the Queen?” Emma nods again.

“What when?” Winn asks with a mouthful of food and his eyebrows almost up to his hairline.

Emma quietly sighs and grabs her notebook, keenly aware of the silence in the room as she writes.

‘The Royal Variety Performance.’

“Ah yea!” Nia smiles remembering the video she found on youtube after Kara first told her about Emma. She had been transfixed by Axis’ music and Emma’s performance. Singing a powerful ballad that moved the brunette to tears. Nia had spent hours upon hours going through Axis’ social media and debated about whether to send Emma a friend request. The brunette had squealed loudly when Emma had accepted and immediately messaged her,

A knock stops Nia from asking more questions as Emma looks over to see Lucy standing awkwardly by the door. Emma can’t help but shift uncomfortably in the bed, hoping Lucy has calmed down from earlier this morning.

“Don’t worry, I’m not here to yell at you.” Lucy says as if she has read Emma’s mind. “May I come in?”

Emma nods before turning back to her meal. Though she feels like she has lost her appetite.

Lucy glances at the three friends who give her looks of encouragement as she cautiously approaches Emma’s bed, watching the blonde push her food around.

“Can I sit here?” Lucy points to the end of the bed and Emma nods without looking up at her. Lucy lowers onto the bed and takes a deep breath. “So, I’m sorry about earlier. I overreacted when I found out you were missing and you are like a sister to me and I got so scared-” Lucy lifts a hand to her head trying to find the words to how terrified she had felt when Emma wasn’t in her room or in the building. She immediately rushed down to the cells but when there was no sign of Emma anywhere the brunette really panicked.

A hand grasps her knee and Lucy’s green eyes snap up to Emma’s. “Sorry.” Lucy breathes out and Emma gives her a timid smile. “So, we also need to discuss the next steps. Mainly the timeline of your recovery because we cannot disclose the Phoenix serum.”

Emma nods and leans back against the bed.

“How long would this timeline be?” Winn asks with a frown.

“We are trying to not make it overly long. Doctor Hamilton did say wounds like Emma’s would have taken at least 3 months to heal fully and she’d be bed bound for a while.”

“But Emma isn’t bed bound.” Nia blinks in confusion. “Would Emma need to stay here?”

“Or in her apartment.” Lucy looks at the blonde mournfully, who deeply swallows in response. Not liking the sound of that at all. Not feeling at all ready to go back to the apartment. Even after J’onn had told her a crew had made it good as new, with no evidence of the incident.

“There would be a huge media frenzy if any photos come out of you like this. The world thinks you can barely open your eyes and hardly move due to the amount of broken bones you have.”

Alarm fills Emma and she quickly grabs her notebook to write.

‘Robyn?!’

“Ah yea. I had her sign a NDA.” Lucy rolls her eyes. “She was annoyingly persistent. I thought you hated each other?” Emma shakes her head and lets out a breathy chuckle. “Jack isn’t far behind, though I’m trying to hold him off for as long as possible.”

Relief starts to filter in and Emma nods before starting to write again. She bites the inside of her lip at the thought of returning back to her apartment. Not sure she’s ready or even wants to go back there.

‘How do you propose we move forward?’ She holds the pad up and watches her friend’s face as she reads.

Lucy hesitates slightly before unlocking her tablet to bring up the timeline. “We will need to stage photos and videos showing your recovery and release them at the right time.” Lucy looks down at her notes. “We do have some already but I’d be happier if we do more.”

Emma glumly sighs causing Lucy to glance back up at her.

“I’m sorry Em but we need to do this to keep the media off our backs. J’onn and I had hoped it would have died down but everyone is still up in arms about what happened.”

Emma’s expression morphs into one of shock and disbelief. She quickly writes one word before showing the lawyer.

‘Why?’

“Because those that listen to your music feel a powerful connection towards you. Even though they have not met you or know you personally.” Brainy explains simply.

“And the attack has brought your music to the attention of more people.” Winn points out.

“Tell me about it.” Lucy says exasperatedly and runs a hand through her hair. “I had a three hour debate with your record label as they want to release the work you’ve done on your new album. Even the covers you’ve been sending Lena.”

Emma immediately shakes her head quickly at the idea. Causing a ringing in her ears.

“Yea I told them they can shove it.” Lucy agrees and quickly takes a piece of sausage from Emma’s container. Almost getting her hand stabbed from Emma’s fork.

Emma playfully glares at the brunette and Lucy sticks her tongue out before popping the meat into her mouth. Emma shakes her head and starts writing.

‘So I will be under house arrest?’

“I’m afraid so.” Lucy says softly, causing Emma’s shoulders to slump and her expression becomes sullen.

“I may be able to help with that.” Winn pipes up, causing Emma and Lucy to stare at him. “I, with Brainy and Lena’s help, could develop a face modifier. That way Emma can move around freely and not disrupt the timeline.”

“That could work.” Lucy squints her eyes as she considers the idea.

“May help Alex and Kara to know Emma is moving around too. I’ve never seen them so broken, I mean poor Alex, you would have thought Kelly would have stood by her and not run away-” Nia comments passionately and Emma freezes.

Horror fills Emma's whole body. She remembers Alex telling her the morning before the attack that she and Kelly were having problems but Emma never imagined Kelly would leave Alex like this. Especially with what her sister is going through.

Immediately Emma leaps out of bed and sprints to the door. She needs to see her sisters. Her heart aches knowing they are both in pain. That they are broken.

“Emma?!” Her friends yells fill the hallway as they chase after her. Agents seemingly appear ahead of her but the blonde easily sidesteps them. Using the training Alex had taught her in self defence.

As soon as she reaches the end of the corridor the blonde slides into the wall and repeatedly slams her hand on the elevator button. When it becomes obvious the doors won’t open quick enough she dashes towards the door to the stairs. Her determination gives her tunnel vision and she ignores those around her.

Until someone leaps on her back.

“Emma stop!” Lucy yells as she clings to Emma, wrapping her arms and legs around the blonde. Halting Emma from leaving the floor. “I’m sorry but they aren’t ready to see you. I’m so sorry.”

Emma tries to get Lucy off her back but the brunette has too good a grip. The blonde heaves in heavy breaths and her face scrunches up as she starts to silently cry. She longs to hold her sisters. To reassure them they are okay.

A ping announces an elevator has arrived. Emma turns her head to gaze longingly at it but feels Lucy’s grip tighten around her chest.

“Emma please.”

The blonde watches mournfully as the doors close.

When it becomes apparent that Emma won’t be running down to the cells Lucy slides off her back.

The brunette sadly looks at the tears streaming down her friend’s face. Placing a gentle hand on Emma’s shoulder Lucy guides her back to the room.

“Emma.” Nia squeaks out with wide eyes as she walks with the pair. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t think-”

The blonde reaches out and squeezes Nia’s hand. Giving her a barely there smile which Nia returns with an encouraging one of her own.

Emma re-enters the room and sits heavily on her bed. Staring out of the window.

“Em?” Winn asks softly, causing Emma to slightly move her head and focus on him. “Are you gonna finish that?” Winn points at the half eaten food.

Emma shakes her head before turning back to the window. She ignores the yelp of pain from Winn when Lucy slaps his arm as he reaches out for the discarded food. Purposefully tuning out the conversation in the room.

Instead, focusing on the world outside of the DEO. The airplanes that zoom across the sky, the birds that flutter past the window and settle on the sill. The traffic down an avenue she can see. Anything to try and keep her mind from acknowledging the pain she’s feeling. The thoughts that are screaming in her mind about her sisters.

“-ma?” Winn’s voice breaks through as she recognises he’s calling out to her. Slowly she turns to look at him. “We’re going back to work. I- er- left your food.”

Emma looks down at the tray and sees that Winn hasn’t touched it. She nods and lifts the right corner of her mouth slightly to show her appreciation.

Emma eyes flick to Nia as she cautiously approaches her. “Can I give you a hug?” Emma nods and opens her arms. Nia immediately dives into them. “Message me if you need me.” Emma nods again and squeezes the superhero. When Nia steps back Winn is already there with his arms open, waiting for a hug. Making Emma voicelessly snort.

“Ah come on!” Winn whines and Emma motions for him to hug her. He does immediately and Emma can’t help but feel more of her anxiety melt away. “If you need anything just give a shout.” Winn says as he pulls away. Emma raises an eyebrow at him and can’t help but smile at the look of horror that comes across his face. Especially when Brainy, Nia and Lucy lower their heads into their hands. “Em. I’m so sorry I-”

Emma immediately lifts a hand to his lips, silencing him. Thankfully he complies, instead gaping at her like a goldfish.

“See you later Emma.” Brainy nods at her before quickly leaving the room, already analysing his tablet at ideas for a face modifier. Nia forcefully grabs Winn’s hand and pulls him out with her.

“I can stay if you want me to?” Lucy asks as she hovers by the bed and massages her shoulder.

Emma is tempted to shake her head but instead she nods. Not wanting to be alone right now.

“Okay great!” Lucy beams at her. “Do you want to do anything? I mean I have work I can be doing but I can watch a film with you or we could play a card game? Chess?”

Emma looks over at the chessboard on the coffee table by the sofa. Lena had brought it in to give Emma something else to do. But the board is currently being taken up by an intense game the girlfriends were playing. Emma reaches for her notebook and writes a response.

‘Lena will immediately say she’s won if we mess the board up.’

“Ah! We can’t have that!” Lucy jokes and sits on the end of Emma’s bed. Her expression becomes sombre as she studies the blonde closely and Emma stares right back. “Are you okay?”

Emma looks between Lucy’s questioning green eyes and slowly shakes her head.

Lucy reaches out and gently holds Emma’s hand. “I’m here if you want to discuss it.”

Emma’s eyes start to glisten with tears and she wipes at them in exasperation.

“Hey, hey, hey.” Lucy grabs Emma’s hand to halt her rubbing. “It’s okay to cry. God knows I’m done my fair share recently.”

Emma tilts her head and frowns slightly.

“What?” Lucy mirrors Emma’s expression. The blonde lets go of Lucy’s hand and starts writing.

‘What do you mean?’

“About what?” Lucy asks, confusion written across her face.

‘What have you been crying about?’

“About you! And Alex and Kara! This whole shit show!” Lucy says bitterly and watches Emma move her pen to paper. “And don’t even think about writing that you are not worth my tears cause you fucking are!”

Emma eyes’s snap up to Lucy’s and her mouth drops open. She was going to write exactly that.

“I’m right aren’t I?”

Emma shuts her mouth and shakes her head.

“Bull.” Lucy narrows her eyes. “Have you forgotten I am a lawyer? And a damn good one at that?”

Emma smiles sadly and looks down to write. ‘Yea you are. Frustratingly so.’

“Unless I’m the one defending you right?” Lucy raises an eyebrow and Emma nods, her smile turning more genuine. “So, do you wanna write about it? You don’t have to, I just-” Lucy hesitates, sighing deeply as she chooses her words. “I worry about you and I wish I could make everything better.”

‘I know.’

“You totally wrote that with Han Solo in mind didn’t you?��

Emma lets out a breathy snort and Lucy laughs loudly.

“You're such a nerd.” Lucy teases and Emma just shrugs. But her smile fades and the blonde gazes down at the paper as she thinks about her sisters. “Em?”

Emma takes a breath and starts writing. Lucy watches her and the expressions Emma makes as she scribbles her thoughts down. In these moments Lucy really misses Emma’s voice and her anger bubbles up at whoever did this to her friend. But before Lucy’s anger simmers up anymore Emma turns the notepad around.

‘I just feel so helpless. We’ve always done everything together and I’m happy they have each other but I want to be there with them. Dad always joked we were like a three legged stool. When one of us wasn’t at home we almost couldn’t function. I get what you are saying that they aren’t ready to see me... But I just miss them so much.’

“Aw Em.” Lucy says sympathetically after she reads. Her eyes flick back up to Emma’s. “It will get better. I know that doesn’t help right now. But, it will.”

Emma nods and leans back against the bed.

“So, what do you want to do?”

‘Okay if I paint?’

“Of course it is! I’ll just work here on my tablet.” Lucy smiles reassuringly at Emma and hops off the bed. She pauses and turns back around to Emma. “Hug?”

Emma smiles and opens her arms. Lucy wraps her arms around the blonde and tries to convey how much she cares for her in it.

After Lucy sits in a chair to work she can’t help but watch how Emma morphs into her creative mode. How the blonde focuses solely on what she’s doing with her paint brush. The way Emma’s eyes squint and her tongue slightly pokes out to the side.

Lucy smiles and tries to concentrate on her own work. Leaving the pair in peaceful silence.

-- -- --

Many hours later there is a knock on the door. Lucy glances up as Lena and Sam enter the room.

“Hi!” Lucy greets the friends happily and turns to look at Emma. The blonde is still so busy with what she’s doing she hasn’t noticed the new arrivals.

It’s only when Emma cleans her brushes, happy with what she’s done, does she sense Lena’s presence in the room. She quickly looks up towards the sofa where Lena, Sam and Lucy are sitting. Seemingly halting their conversation as the trio notice Emma’s focus on them. Lena can’t help but greet her girlfriend with a beaming smile.

“Hi love.” Lena says while standing and approaches the blonde. Emma waves at her but gives her a questioning look. “I didn’t want to disturb you.” Lena gracefully sits on the bed next to Emma and softly kisses the blonde’s lips. “You were so engrossed in what you were doing.”

“Sorry.”

“No don’t be! I’m glad you are painting.” Lena smiles reassuringly at her girlfriend. Her smiles then morphs into a shy one. “I- er- got you something.”

Emma tilts her head and her eyes bulge when Lena lifts a huge bouquet of flowers up. Having not noticed them when the raven haired beauty walked in or when she came over to the bed.

“Wow!” Emma signs and she reaches out to touch a red rose. Feeling the softness of the petal and admiring the colour.

“The florist told me the roses mean love, obviously. The baby breath is everlasting love. The-” Lena pauses as she tries to remember the meaning of the other flowers. Emma starts kissing her cheek making Lena beam and lean into them. “Em! I’m trying to think!” Emma pulls away and rests her chin on Lena’s shoulder. “So, the daisies are my love is pure and the tulips all have different meanings, the red being eternal love, the orange desire and passion, yellow happiness and sunshine and the cream tulips-” Lena gently moves her girlfriend’s head so she can gaze deeply into Emma’s slightly bloodshot eyes. “I will love you forever.”

She watches as Emma melts and her eyes glisten with tears. The blonde tilts her head and slowly leans towards her girlfriend. Lena copies her and they gently kiss but before they can deepen it further and noise fills the room.

“Blurgh!” Lucy yells out, pretending to heave. Emma furiously pulls away and flips her off. Glaring at the brunette before turning back to her girlfriend.

“Thank you. I love them.”

“I’m glad.” Lena smirks at the blonde and Emma carefully places the bouquet on the tray table. Making sure not to knock any of the other stuff on there. “So, how's your head?”

“Haven’t had any complaints yet.” Emma signs cheekily and Lena roars with laughter.

“What did she say?” Sam looks between the two girlfriends, wanting to know why Lena reacted the way she did.

“Haven’t had any complaints yet.” Lena responds while continuing to laugh, causing the two brunettes to join in with her and Emma just smiles happily at them as she snuggles into her girlfriend.

(Part Twenty One)