#also we just need more swiftli fics/link fics cause i love them/him

[koszmarnybudyn]

i saw ur tags reblogging my fic hehe thanks ♡♡♡ im always happy when ppl like my work also i really like your art its pretty and pleasing to the eye

Thank you :)

I drew some fanart for the fic :) hope you like it, its not my usual style cause i really wanted to try something simple cute and cartoony.

[aciesvirtus]

Don't Say No to a Man in Love? (Chapter 2 & 3)

A Legally blonde au for ohshc! One unfaithful day, just when Tamaki thinks Kyoya is going to get serious with him and take things to the next step, he breaks up with him! In order to win his love back, Tamaki follows Kyoya to Harvard, chaos ensues. (for plot purposes haruhi was never a part of the host club. im sorry :c)

Chapter 1!

Ao3 link for the full work!

Word Count : 3,427

Author's note: i am moving this fic to my main blog, and this is up on ao3 also! the links will up here somewhere :3

“WHAT???” Tamaki suddenly rose to his feet, again somehow, as he screamed in all caps; tears formed on his newly narrowed eyes.  

“I’m sorry, Tamaki..” Kyoya barely mumbled, looking down at the dish they were eating.  

With Tamaki’s yell, everyone also halted their dining. All the eyes were on them now. Tamaki swiftly looked around, trying to find a way to flee while not wanting to cause more big of a scene.  

“Don’t bother, Kyoya.” A final courage fueled his words as he started walking away.  

Kyoya watched his lover -now ex- walk away, he didn’t want to do this but he had to. He stuffed a bunch of cash below the napkin holder without thinking and got on his feet to try to catch up to Tamaki, however he was on the wind by that time.  

Tamaki had already called his driver while storming off and was waiting at a further point, away from the hotel. It was a rather long wait and even a sadder drive back home. He was torn to pieces, how could Kyoya do this? Tamaki loved Kyoya ever since he came to Japan. It was almost like he was his new home and shelter. They were destined for each other. It was so right to love Kyoya, Kyoya was almost like the perfect melody on the piano he’d play for his mother.  

He threw himself on his bed, ignoring everyone else in the house. Days passed, weeks passed making up an entire month.  

“He can’t possibly spend his entire life like this” Hikaru said, peeking through the door which wasn’t entirely closed since Tamaki couldn’t even bother to open a window and he needed air to exist.  

“Should we do something about it?” Kaoru crossed his arms and leaned on a kitchen counter right in front of the door that led to Tamaki’s room.  

Honey was sitting on the counter right next to Kaoru, with a cookie jar on his lap, he grabbed another cookie from the jar and calmly recommended “Maybe we can get him to go outside, to a party or something. It would be a nice change of pace for him!”   

Kaoru shrugged, Hikaru was still sneakily stealing glances at Tamaki who was rewatching the same taped Japanese shows that his dad brang him when he was a child and continuously weeping at the same scenes.  

Then Mori bursted inside the kitchen in a hurry, holding a newspaper. Everybody’s attention immediately turned to him as he showed an article.  

“No way..” Hikaru said as he read.   

“Oh, he can’t know this.” Kaoru added  

Honey gasped.  

Mori showed them a part of the gossip column, it was a some sort of announcement of an engagement. It was Kyoya and Renge Houshakuji. The former hosts recognized her in an instant. They’d never forget the day she sat on one of the couches as she declared herself as the fianceé of Kyoya, despite him never meeting her.  

“Can’t believe she finally got her way.” Hikaru giggled “You gotta admit, it is kinda funny. Me and Kaoru figured she gave up when she started that otaku club”  

The former hosts were stunned to say the least, seeing another former host leave them like this AND get engaged without telling them. Not to mention the obvious heartbreak he made Tamaki go through. They stared at each other for a while until Tamaki appeared behind them like a jumpscare.  

“Guys, I have a brilliant plan!” Tamaki was up and all smiley like he wasn’t the one that was dumped.  

The twins quickly hid the newspaper as Honey flew out of the counter, Mori rushing in front of Tamaki in full speed to cover up the twins.   Tamaki, of course being the most intelligent and observant of all, didn’t notice what was happening and started mumbling on and on about his ‘brilliant plan’.  

“So, if Kyoya wants someone serious, I’ll show him I’m serious!” Tamaki put his hand on chest in a way rich people annoyingly do to show off their superiority. “Gentleman..” His voice got more relaxed, a dark cloud surrounded him as his friends anxiously anticipated the rest of his plan.  

“I’m going to Harvard!” He announced, his brows furrowed as he posed like a knight, holding his imaginary sword up in the air.  

The former hosts looked at each other and back at Tamaki as one of the twins spoke “Tono, how the hell are you going to manage that?”   

Mori shut his eyes and crossed his arms in deep thought.   “You need a very high LSAT score, a good GPA and a banger essay!” The twins spoke in unison, numbering the requirements with their fingers.  

“That’s no easy job.” Honey chimed in, as he unwrapped a strawberry lollipop he magically happened to find.  

“I mean, does your dad even do business with Americans?” Kaoru put a finger on his chin in deep thought.  

“You could just bribe them or something, no?” Hikaru hit the same exact pose in front of his brother.  

“The essay shouldn’t be a huge problem for an author like moi.” Tamaki flipped his greasy blonde hair since he was too busy bedrotting for a month, it didn’t really sweep like he wanted it to.  

“Suure..” Hikaru and Kaoru narrowed their eyes as the slowly spoke.  

“Oh! Oh!” Honey raised his hand excitedly “Me and Taka-chan can tutor you!” He smiled even though it was one of his usual sweet smiles, a dark thunder suddenly appeared behind him. Tamaki gulped, these next months wouldn’t be easy with such disciplined friends as Honey and Mori at his neck but he had to do it! He was going to prove himself to Kyoya, he was going to show him that he is serious, seriously in love with him.   

Months passed with never ending determination and toughness. Though Tamaki gave up like a million times, Mori and Honey picked him right back up like a million times. Twins were excellent at annoying Tamaki to get back on track too.  

After a billion practice tests and scraped essays, Tamaki finally applied. Instead of clicking of the timer, it was pure emptiness and anxiety, anticipation, then it was checking the mail every day until one day that big letter arrived.   It didn’t take long for Tamaki to pack and fly right away, though the others couldn’t exactly follow suit but promised to come when they could arrange it.  

And there was, in a campus he imagined that would never cross his path. Not that it was impossible or hard, he just had no reason when the university his family literally owned existed.  

One thing was sure however, it was a new adventure and a new opportunity, and possibly a brand new life.  

----

It was a beautiful autumn morning, Tamaki had finished moving into his new dorm. He was all excited, as he was yapping to himself or humming melodies, trying to get ready. Now that he got into Harvard, all he had to do was show himself off to get Kyoya’s attention back. 

He wore a suit for some reason, with a sparkly blazer. Though thank god it was all soft lavender, so he didn’t hurt anyone's eyes. As a bonus, it was a cute throwback to highschool.

He was finally done with doing his hair a million times instead of rolling out normally because “his perfect hair places itself perfectly” as he used to say

Tamaki was now insecure. Everything he had before no longer felt enough, he had to be the best and his natural flamboyant personality wasn’t just cutting it anymore.

It took him a few hours and a half to leave the dorm room. Tamaki could feel all the stares on him as he walked the halls and through the campus. Of course, that was to be expected, he was drenched in sparkles. For once, he didn't enjoy being himself. He always had this profound confidence, and love for himself despite everything he endured. It was kinda stupid how he felt like this over a man, considering the time when he went through hell as a teenager with his family issues.

He, then, decided to fake it.He walked, his steps more confident, his usual stupidly charming smile on his face. As he continued to roam the halls, trying to get to class, he spotted Kyoya. He was walking from the opposite direction.

As they got closer, Tamaki immediately smiled wider, casually raising a hand to greet Kyoya ''Hi, Kyoya'' his voice got cheerful as the words left his lips.''I forgot you go here.'' he said in a cocky tone.

''Tamaki.'' Kyoya responded. ''I thought you were attending Ouran, last time we talked you said Harvard was too bothersome for you.''

''Well, turns out it wasn't. It was pretty easy too.'' Tamaki puffed his chest slightly,then put his hands in his pockets.

''Oh? Is that so?'' Kyoya said, Tamaki hated how he sounded, so uncaring, so distant, so cold... It was like Kyoya was a frozen statue.

''Yeah, catch up with you tonight? Very important club meeting, wouldn't want you to miss it.'' Tamaki tried to sound casual however the sparkles in his eyes begging for approval betrayed him.

Kyoya didn't reply, he simply parted his lips as if he was going to say something.It was then Tamaki started rambling, trying to catch Kyoya on what he missed out on. After a good 10 minutes, Tamaki remembered that he had to go to class. With a genuine smile, he excused himself. 

It felt as if they never broke up in the first place, he just rambled on and Kyoya listened. No matter how Kyoya seemed distant, there was something in his gaze, Tamaki thought. He still loved him, right?

Things didn't really go well for Tamaki for the rest of the day, he even got kicked out from his first class ever. All thanks to Renge, of all people. He didn't even know she was attending Harvard too? She had that wretched smile on her face when she showed him no mercy, all because he was distracted? None of this made sense to Tamaki, sure he knew Renge never actually liked him. She always thought he was a 'phony prince' and that he was a shame to the host club, and that he lacked the depth for it.Though, last time he checked when Renge opened her own club, the otaku club, this was all behind them. They were on good terms, he remembered so. 

Eventually, the evening arrived. He wandered around aimlessly again. Though he noticed something during his stroll, Kyoya and Renge? Renge was latched onto Kyoya's arm, and Kyoya didn't appear to mind it. He just stood there, nodding and smiling. All Tamaki could do was sit on a bench and stare, with tears forming in his eyes.

''Hey, are you okay?'' The girl next to her spoke, he hadn't noted her presence earlier.

Tamaki turned his head to the direction she was seated to get a good look of her, she had short brown hair that barely made it to her neck and big beautiful brown eyes and she was eerily similar. Tamaki had seen her before, but couldn't make out from where.

''Oh, I'm alright.'' Tamaki regained his composure as he voiced, with his usual charming smile painted back on his face. After a minute of awkward silence, he finally asked the question that circled in his mind ''Do I know you from somewhere?''

The girl tilted her head and put a finger on her chin, thinking. ''No, but you do appear similar.'' Then, she smiled and raised her hand for a handshake ''I'm Haruhi, Haruhi Fujioka.''

Tamaki swiftly returned her handshake, then softly put his other hand on the hand he shaked a second ago. ''I'm Tamaki, Tamaki Suoh.'' he introduced himself back freshly.

''Suoh?'' Haruhi tilted her head again. ''Oh, you were the Chairman's son?''

Tamaki froze momentarily ''You attended Ouran Academy?'' he asked, his tone of voice louder than intended.

''Yeah, I was the scholarship student'' Haruhi explained, with a grin. She looked so pretty when she smiled, Tamaki noticed.

The scholarship student wasn't a boy? Tamaki pondered for a second, confused. ''I thought you were a guy.''

Haruhi laughed ''No, I am a girl. But does it really matter?''

Tamaki seemed to take a slight offense to that ''I.. care..'' he mumbled.

''I'm sorry, what was that?'' Haruhi raised a brow, but her smile was still on her face.

''Nothing!'' Tamaki blushed, his cheeks a very soft pink as he shook both of his hands dismissively.

''You're funny.'' Haruhi commented. ''It's unfair how that girl treated you back there, but you have to watch your back. It's kind of brutal out here.''

A light bulb shined on Tamaki's head, Haruhi was a law major too?

As Tamaki was still thinking to himself, Haruhi continued to talk ''Y'know, she is very familiar too. I think I've seen her around in Ouran, do you know her?''

Tamaki snapped out of his thoughts ''Oh, yes I do. She kinda tried to become my club's manager at one point?'' He said sheepishly ''Though, after some unfortunate events we decided that she was on her own.''

''Oh, I see.'' Haruhi hummed.

Tamaki suddenly decided that he wanted to dump his entire highschool lore here and now. He suddenly started to talk about Kyoya and him, Renge and her whole deal,how he ended up in Harvard and how much of a failure he felt like he was.

Haruhi listened, and she appeared to be somewhat annoyed by the fact that the weird stranger she met a second ago suddenly dropped his entire life story; however Tamaki didn't quite pick up on it.

''That's rough...'' was all she could add to this. She really couldn't relate to his rich and stupid struggles. ''Well, if you need help with classes and stuff, you can find me around.'' She remarked and got up, the wind brushed on her hair.

Tamaki stared at her for a while as she got up. ''O-okay..'' He stuttered, so many emotions were shaking up inside his brain. He watched as Haruhi walked away, his eye went for Kyoya and Renge who were still standing in the same exact spot. Unfortunately, they were standing near the path to his dorm so he had to walk past them. He also got up, accepting his faith.

He took slow and steady steps, his head low, his hands in his pockets. As he was relatively past them when Renge called out for Tamaki. He turned to his back to notice that Kyoya wasn't with her and the group that was talking to her.

''Hey, Tamaki!'' She said in a fake cheery voice.

''Hello.'' Tamaki greeted her back.

''I'm throwing a party tonight, it's a costume party.'' There was that wicked smile again but the idiot, Tamaki, didn't see through it. ''You should come!'' Renge invited, later telling him when and where it was.

''I'll try to swing by.'' Tamaki said to the offer, and grinned. He swiftly turned to his back and back to the direction he was walking in.

He walked in the emotions whirlwinding inside, however he was to some extent happy about the offer. He had a lot of questions, and a man to win back. This surely was an opportunity.

[shipsgaysfordays]

Uncertainty Meeting

So, this is chapter 2 of my fic but in Sirius’ POV, honestly I hadn’t remembered some of the batshit crazy things I had written until I was copying them into this chapter and like damn it’s insane

Does include the uncertainty prompt from @wolfstarmicrofic

CW: graphic depiction of violence

Links to other chapters here

Reminder that Remus’ pronouns for this fic are they/them, Sirius’ are ze/zis/zer/zhe/zeir/zey

Also fuck JKR and the rhetoric that she spouts that’s transphobic, homophobic, racist, antisemetic, and if I’m forgetting anything else then I’m deeply sorry

“We need to meet. I need to tell you something, the time is finally right. Meet at our old hang out spot , the one you always hated, I’m sorry but it’s the only one I could trust going to. I’ll wait as long as you need.”

Sirius left the note on the sidewalk, hoping that somehow Remus would find it, they always seem to be on the lookout so they probably would…right? 

Happy that soon zey would finally see zis love again, but still terrified for what would come next, zey trekked back to where it all started. Trains, buses, hikes, all the way to that grungy shack that felt more like home to Sirius than Grimmauld ever did. 

Despite how much simpler things would be to meet up at Mary’s apartment, there was still a fear about how Remus would feel finding out about all of this in Mary’s home, especially with them finding out about Mary and Sirius communicating. They already had trust issues, this would probably destroy any trust left if it isn’t handled correctly. 

And so Sirius waited, going through the plan over and over again with James and Lily. Redoing the silencing spell every once in a while just in case.

“I go down there first and speak with Moony, then once they seem to have calmed down some–you guys come down. Don’t, and I repeat: do NOT come down these stairs unless the man seems at least partially calm. This is an insane situation and I’d rather not terrify Moony.” 

“Yes, yes, we heard you the first 10 times,” James nodded. 

“Where did that impulsive little annoying loud kid go?” Lily questioned. 

“You married him,” Sirius quipped. 

“I think my wife is referring to you, Sirius.”

Zer eyes glazed over for a moment, thinking about where they did go, cold metal bars, shrieking from all around the tower, never being quite aware when zey were the one yelling. This is about Remus, they remembered. 

“I-I just want to do it right for Remus…”

“Yes, we know, give the man some space and some time to come to terms with the truth before bombarding them with it,” James said, the plan was somehow so simple to him by this point. 

They spent some time laying around and waiting. 

“We should have brought cards.”

“Are we even sure they’re coming?”

“Maybe we could finally talk about the other situation–” James started.

All thoughts and conversation was stopped by the sound of the door creaking and stomping shoes on the wood floorboards. The couple turned to face Sirius. 

“Well…I’ve got to….”

“Good luck Sirius,” Lily patted zem on the shoulder. 

James’ arms wrapped tightly around Sirius, “We’ll finally have our Moony back.”

Sirius shook, stepping down, trying not to go too fast or too slow, trying not to fall down the steps. Until making it to the bottom floor. Remus was examining the wood, their back turned on the other side of the room, staring at the spot where years ago Padfoot had watched them transform for the first time. 

“Remus…” Sirius started to say. 

They spun around to face Sirius, swiftly pulling out a knife and pointing it at the other man. 

What. The. Fuck. Unsure of what else to do, Sirius shot zeir hands empty hands into the air, hoping that might make a difference in whatever might happen next. 

“I don’t mean to cause trouble,” ze spat out, trying to sound calm as the love of zeir life is threatening to kill them with a knife because of the deaths of two people who are entirely alive and upstairs. 

“Of course you don’t, you never do, you lying bastard,”as Remus spoke memories of past mistakes filled zer mind, of the prank, of thinking Remus was the spy, of all the thoughts zis head tried to believe and tried to swat away like an annoying fly while in Azkaban, all the you killed them, it’s your fault you’re hear, it’s your fault Remus is alone, all of it swirled like the worst brewed potion made by an idiot or possibly evil first year at Hogwarts. 

Sirius’ eyes were the size of two moons, not a great comparison since that’s also something that brings Remus blinding hot rage. They were closer than the minute before, as Sirius’ mind came back to right here and now, they were moving forward. 

“I just…I-I need to tell you something, but I don’t know how.”

“What, you’re gonna tell me you love me, beg for me to come back to you like we’re 16 again, like things are that simple again,” Remus backed zem into the wall, holding the knife to their neck, why is this hot, why the hell is this hot, this should not be making me blush, this man is ABOUT TO TRY TO MURDER ME…I’m such a dog, but then it started to hit zem, is Remus really going to....

 “James and Lily are dead, and you’re barely even you anymore. Padfoot is gone and dead, Lord Black just needs to join them.” As Remus spoke tears began to appear in Sirius’ eyes, this is what they really think of me? Ze questioned, but no, Mary’s told Sirius well enough that Remus isn’t okay, this isn’t the man who loves me…right? They wouldn’t call me…they wouldn’t call me Lord Black, not as anything other than a stupid joke.

Are they really about to–Sirius stared, the blade next to zis neck…is this it? I should have had my wand, I should have explained better, I should–

Sirius glanced up for a moment, and then stared, right behind Remus there he was: James Potter in all his savior complex glory, pointing his shaking wand out. Lily next to him, trembling. Sirius’ eyes met James as zey felt liquid begin to sprinkle down zeir neck, like small rain before a storm. Despite the fear, still meeting James’ eye, zey almost screamed, “no–”

“Yes,” Remus said in response, moving even closer than before. 

At the same time, James spoke, “Accio knife.”

Small droplets of blood began to trickle down his neck, Remus’ fingers brushing it. Sirius’ heart raced, Remus’ eyes never leaving zem. Staring for an eternity. 

“I–I don’t know what to do…don’t leave,” Remus begged as they started holding onto Sirius, Sirius didn’t know what to do other than hug them back. How did it get to this? How did we get here? Zhe thought as ze stared at James, trying to hold back zeir tears.

“Please, let me explain.”

It took a while for them to respond, until finally there was a quiet, “okay.”

I didn’t think this far…why couldn’t Mary be here? She could say it so much better. 

Sirius took a breath before saying, “I was falsely imprisoned, for a crime I didn’t commit.”

“Why should I believe you?” Because it’s me, because it’s me and you, the stars and moon, Sirius and Remus, the galaxy. Because I love you…and somewhere you have to love me again too, please.

But Sirius knew zey shouldn’t and couldn’t plead to Remus’ emotions, not now, not after, “Just, let me continue…I didn’t commit the crime, no one did.”

“You expect me to believe the Potter’s killed themselves and their child.”

Sirius was about to respond, ze really was, zeir mouth opened and ready to say they didn’t really die, but they saw a few feet away, Lily. No no no, no Lily, they’re NOT READY!

“No, because we never died,” Lily’s voice rang, Merlin Lily……WHY, I guess I couldn’t have said it better.

Remus broke apart from Sirius and turned to stare at the Potters, until their eyes darted back to Sirius, “What are you doing to my brain?” It’s too soon for them, it’s too much. 

“What do you mean, Moony?” Lily spoke softly.

“None of this is real, IT CAN’T BE REAL, I–” they breathed heavily, “this isn’t real, I’m alone surrounded by ghosts by thoughts by everything fucked up in MY MIND.” Remus’ hands ran manically through their hair. Sirius wanted to reach out, to ground them, to help them realize this was real, but then there was the part of zem that was still in shock. The part of them that had blood running down their neck. The part of zem that was honestly terrified of the person next to zem. 

 “Moony, we’re back, please,” James touched their arm. Immediately Remus backed away, quickly into the corner of the room. 

 “No…no, no no no,” Remus shook their head, “no, it can’t be real. I’m alone. I’m alone , I’m sorry I couldn’t fix this before and make things right but you don’t need to….my mind doesn’t need to lie to me.” They fell to the floor, their eyes wide as they trembled. 

“Remus, look at me,” Lily spoke softly, starting to crouch next to them. “Look at me,” she spoke sternly this time.

James moved next to Sirius, both the men hoping that if they couldn’t help Remus then Lily would be able to. Sirius struggled trying to rip a piece of cloth from zis shirt, ze couldn’t focus on it, couldn’t bring zis eyes away from Remus. 

“Look at me,” James whispered, “Just look at me, I know it’s hard, I know it's scary and you want to stare at Moony because you always do, but just look at me for a second.”

Sirius nodded as James helped rip the clothes and apply pressure to the wound. “Hey, we’ve done this before, we’re okay, everything will be alright,” James spoke again. 

Sirius heard Lily speaking to Remus from across the room, “I need you to take a deep breath for me, I know it’s a lot, but it’s real.” 

“Lily I–” James turned to face his wife, so of course Sirius let zer eyes wander back to Remus, breathing like a madman, pulling away from their best mate in a far less friendly game of tug of war, Lily had always had a strong grip so the “game” went on for eternity. 

“GET AWAY FROM ME,” Remus screamed, breaking their hands free and pushing Lily away. 

Moony looked back to Sirius, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m sorry,” they wailed as they ran out the door, into the night.

Can I forgive them? That was the only thought in zeir head as ze stared at the door, holding a bloodstained cloth, an uncertainty with how the hell to move forward.

[cantsaythetword]

Squeals, Sparks and Spiderman

~A/N  - Yeah the title is shit but oh well.

Y'all I watched Spiderman NWH and OH MY GOD BOY WHEN I SAY I SCREAMED I did. I'm a boy who fucking loves Andrew Garfield.

Like look at this man

LOOK AT HIM

HE IS JUST <333333

He's not even in this fic I just luv him. Sorry.

But anyways, I got a request which was THIS:

"ohhh what if you had someone tickling doctor strange? And his magic sorta goes haywire and he has sparks glowing around him. Maybe some furniture slightly lifting/shaking. Like absolutely no control over it and when they tickle certain spots different reactions of magic happen? If you don’t feel like it it’s perfectly fine😊" - Anon Anon your MIND i love. But yeah kinda links to No Way Home, in no way links to Andrew Garfield I just needed the excuse to gush about him cause he is everything I want to be and more. Starts off the same as NWH but takes a different (better?) direction.

Hope y'all are having a good one, and are not annoyed by the spam of Andrew gifs (you know it's serious when I capitalise his name every time I say it).

Sorry this took so long to come out!

- Enoy! ~

Tag List: @mysterious-marvel Masterpost Link

"OK but my Aunt May really should know-" Peter said nervously.

"Would you just stop talking!" Doctor strange commanded, trying his best to contain the spell.

The wizard side stepped around the table, arms circling the air causing orange rings to form around the pair.

"Could you also-" Peter began, reaching his hand out to touch Strange's side as he moved past.

He let out a half-strangled noise as the rings exploded outwards, sending shards of orange magic shattering across the floor.

"What was that?" Peter's eyes were wide, scared he had somehow seriously screwed up. "Are you alr-"

"I'm fine." Strange said a little too quickly. "Everything's fine."

He took a few shaky steps, clutching an odd glowing orb and trapping it in a container.

"Are you sure? Cause I touched your side and-" Peter rambled, gesturing to Stephen's ribs. The older man flinched away, almost sending Peter flying with his magic.

"Oh?" Peter smirked in an oddly intimidating manner.

"Peter, don't you dare..." Strange stammered, silently cursing himself for the very unthreatening tone. "We don't know how much damage has been dONE-!"

The doctor was interrupted by a jab to the ribs, forcing a yelp out of his mouth.

Peter's eyes were wide as a kid in a candy store. This was too good to be true.

Within an instant, Peter had tackled Stephen to the floor. His super-charged muscles easily pinning the wizard down. Almost immediately, bright orange sparks ricocheted around the room in time with Strange's giggles.

"I don't even know where to start!" Peter grinned, fingers tapping on his chin in thought. "How abouuuuuuut-"

"Peheheter nohoho-"

"Here!"

Stephen barked out a laugh before descending into manic chuckles as spiderman's hands scattered up and down his ribs. The sparks glowed and zoomed across the room with every jolt of ticklish laughter that came from Strange. The higher Peter got, the more erratic the magic became, and once Peter reached his armpits circles began to appear.

"PEHEHETER DOHOHON'T" Stephen tried to warn, but the evil smirk on Peter's face sent shivers down the already goosebumpy spine of the poor Doctor.

The moment Peter plunged his fingers into Strange's armpits, that high pitch, almost glassy sound echoed from Peter's left. Strange tried to splutter out a second warning but before he got the chance a tidal wave of seawater from the deep ocean plunged over the pair, knocking the two of them to opposite sides of the room. As Peter spluttered and swam for his life, Stephen managed to - within the water - compose himself enough to close the portal.

Peter and Stephen, both sopping wet, locked eyes for a moment. And Strange saw nothing but ticklish hunger in Peter's. Spidey swung across the room, webbing up the wizard without a second of warning, and landed swiftly next to him.

"Peter thihink about what you're dohohoing!" Stephen stuttered, wriggling in the silky bonds that held his body in some weird spider-cocoon.

"Oh I'm thinking alright, thinking this is a GREAT idea!" Peter chirped, gently wriggling his fingers against Strange's exposed neck.

As the doctor's muscles tensed in ticklish torment, the chairs and tables surrounding the two began to shake. The more intense the tickles became, the more violent the vibrations grew. As Peter's nimble fingers climbed higher onto Stephen's neck, the rumbling stopped. A quick glance around himself revealed that the furniture was now floating spookily as if it were possessed.

"Awwwwww Mister Strange, your magic is going haywire!" Peter giggled teasingly, making sure to gently trace the shells of his ears to make the objects shake slowly in mid air. "But I think we're done in this spot..."

Strange took a deep gasp, finally given a brief respite from the ticklish onslaught. He coughed a few times, restoring his deep gravelly voice.

"Peter wait. Let's not cause any more damage than we already have." He threatened, but it was difficult to be intimidating considering his cheeks were still flushed in a post-tickle glow.

Peter, ignoring the wizard's advice, continued his search for a new spot. His hands wiggled teasingly over the poor man's body, slowing down agonisingly close to his stomach.

"Peheheheter..." Strange's voice was already rising into an almost adorable pitch.

"Ye-heh-heh-hes?' Peter mimicked, and without giving Strange even a moment to respond he plunged his fingers into the doctor's tummy.

As Stephen's arms flailed as much as the spiderwebs would allow, Peter narrowly missed a book hurtling towards his head.

"Woah! When you said knowledge is the most powerful weapon I never imagined you'd throw a dictionary at me!"

"Stahahahap!" Strange chuckled helplessly, thrashing from side to side.

At least, it felt like powerful tossing. To Peter it was like pinning a giant worm that would wriggle every so often.

As Stephen's face became a purplish red colour, an odd orange glow radiated from beneath the webs currently containing him.

Peter's fingers were skilfully brutal. Managing to create the perfect combo of pressure and sensation, hard enough to elicit deep belly laughs, but too soft to feel anything but unbearably ticklish. There wasn't a single nerve on Strange's body that wasn't aflame, and there didn't seem to be a cell of his skin that wasn't now a deep amber.

"What you up to there Str-" Peter asked above Strange's giggles, but was rudely interrupted by a powerful but silent blast centring at his little tickle victim. He was knocked several feet into the air, landing crumpled against the wall next to the doorway.

Once Peter's senses were a little less scrambled, he was able to clamber to his feet excited to explore more of the wizard's tickle spots.

Unfortunately for him, Stephen had already composed himself after the senses assault and was rubbing away the goosebumpy phantoms.

"We do not speak of this. To anyone. This moment never happened. You should forget about it and continue your day." Strange muttered between the occasional deep breath.

Peter nodded, a Cheshire grin plastered on his face.

Oh this was a little factoid Peter was far from forgetting.

[lunaastoir]

Hi! I really enjoy your writing so is it alright if i request xiao, diluc, childe with an idol s/o where one of their old stalkers come back or they just recently had a stalker in general but with how busy they were since they’re an idol they don’t even notice? And something bad happens (i cant think of anything</3) Thank you very much !!

hi anon!! a million apologies since this is so late but i hope you like the fic <3

there also aren’t any explicit details for anything bad happening - i briefly touched on subjects that you may not have control over, i hope that’s ok! 

warning (?): struggled a bit on this prompt so i apologize in advance if this isn’t my best work LMAOO

gn! reader

tw: hints of assault, slight angst, very light abuse if you squint

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

xiao

now xiao is a very observant man but he's also extremely busy keeping liyue safe

he makes it a point to always come to your shows even if you don't actively see him bc he cares a lot abt you and he enjoys listening to your music ‼️

it's normal for him to sometimes get lost between his own world of demonslaying and the world he shares w you

so one night, he's hanging on the rafters of a house with the perfect view of your singing

everything goes smoothly, he sets his spear down while lightly swaying his head to the music

the concert ends and fans disperse after you say your farewells

a night like this is rare since for once, xiao can walk home w you back to the inn sweet boy really cleared out his schedule for you huh

you're unsurprised when you see him materialize next to you, opting to flash him a smile and a hello

his cheeks are lightly flushed as he crosses his arms before talking quietly about how well you did

he relishes in the wide smile you give him as a result of his praise and he lets the corners of his lips curve upwards slightly

the quiet bustle of the harbor seemed to slow down as the night grew longer

since this was a fairly large concert, you had boxes among boxes of equipment so xiao decided to make your life easier by quickly flying them to their appropriate locations

when he got back however, he was surprised to see you talking animatedly with someone

he didn't think anything was wrong until he saw the person trap you between the stage and words filtered into his ears

your back was painfully pressed against the stage wall as you defiantly met their gaze. after xiao had left, they had immediately come over to you: first introducing themselves as a fan and making amiable conversation, before divulging in personal details of your life that made your skin crawl. you weren’t helpless, you always had your weapon on hand regardless of whether you were performing or not. the way they pushed you against the wall however, made it near impossible to summon your sword should you need it. 

they leered down at you while balancing an arm against the wall next to your head. you had dealt with things like this before so you weren’t overly worried; you could defend yourself. you almost felt pity for the person in front of you as they asked for your number with a sadistic grin, disgusting words tumbling off of their lips. however, that was before you felt their cold fingers idly make their way to your stomach and you felt your breath hitch. oh no

the telltale sound of whooshing alerted you of xiao’s presence, and the press of the tip of his spear against their jugular brought you relief. 

“back away” he tightly growled while his golden eyes narrowed into slits. they stared at him in shock before holding their hands up and moving to step a foot away from you. 

“farther” he motioned with his spear before stepping in front of you as you attempted to collect yourself. 

“ok ok, i’m far away can you put your spear down now?” 

“no.” 

you mentally cursed as you watched the two of them glare at each other. this was supposed to be a carefree night but this unfortunate twist made the air thick with tension. you could feel the anger radiate off of xiao in waves and in an effort to deescalate the situation, you spoke. 

“i’m glad to meet such an...avid fan but i’m sorry the two of us must get going now” you hastily said before attempting to grab xiao’s hand and walk off past them. 

the next words had you halt your steps as they divulged their secret. 

words painted in careless arrogance with hints of violet overconfidence flew out of the person’s mouth - “judging from the weeks i’ve been following you, it didn’t seem like you had a boyfriend”

at the mere mention of prolonged stalking, xiao immediately lunged to pull you behind him. god, he didn’t kill mortals but he swore if he plunged his spear into this human being right here, no one would even blink twice considering how low of a person they were. 

“if i ever see you near them again, i will not hesitate to kill you. i won’t blink twice, i already have blood on my hands.” he ground out.

at the threat, the person grudgingly turned their back to you before leaving the two of you alone in the quiet harbor. 

you carefully reached a hand out to touch your boyfriend’s shoulder, but stopped after you saw the expression on his face. the mix of rage, sadness, and anguish imprinted his features as you watched his chest rapidly rise and fall - a result of his emotional battle. 

“i’m sorry i didn’t notice them before. i should’ve been paying more attention to you” he whispered before silently striding away from your grasp 

you knew that no matter how many reassurances you gave him about how, “it’s not your fault xiao, i didn’t notice them either” he would still blame himself. 

he was supposed to protect you right? so why couldn’t he sense the danger beforehand? what would’ve happened if he wasn’t there?

it’s still a learning process for him to realize that things happen, and he inevitably couldn’t be there to save you from everything. he needs time to understand and adjust. you’re willing to wait, patiently helping him through it. why? because love is worth it. 

god im sorry this ended up kinda sad whoops

diluc 

i swear everytime i say i’m a childe simp diluc kinda wrecks me

ahem anyways onto the hc!

he’s kinda never around but similar to xiao he will overwork himself to clear out an hour or two just to watch your concerts 

he’ll always stand off to the side too so if you tilt your head while you’re singing you can spy his red hair 

you always flash him the sweetest smile and this man blushes like CRAZY before quickly lifting his hand up to give you a thumbs up 

everyone watching the both of you like 😍😦

people think it’s the cutest thing i swear like c’mon the elusive “bachelor of mondstadt” being seen in public supporting you??? wow pls can we share him

he walks with you back to the winery, the entire time linking his hands with yours while gushing about your performance 

1939248/10 it’s literally the sweetest thing 

the next day however, adelinde brings you a pink letter addressed to you 

he doesn’t pry because it’s addressed to you and it’s your business but as the letters start coming by everyday, he starts to grow curious 

one day he straight up just asks you about it

“hey, you know those pink letters you keep getting? who are they from?”

you laugh slightly at his bashfulness and respond with a “just some overexcited fan” and he smiles before kissing your forehead 

he loves that people are noticing your talent 

loves it! until you get stalked by the same person who wrote you those letters while you were shopping!

diluc knows something’s wrong when you rush into angel’s share panicked after not returning his usual smile. 

“darling? are you ok?” he asks worriedly before quickly setting down the glass he was cleaning to move towards you. 

the widening of your eyes as you looked behind you at the sounds of someone else entering was all he needed to swiftly step in front of you, blocking their gaze of your face. 

the slightly panicked look in your eyes before you hurriedly whispered, “they’re following me” made diluc glance at them subtly out of the corner of his eye. he watched as they walked over to find a seat next to the bar, seemingly ready to order a drink. he quietly asked if you would like to sit in the room reserved for the employees, away from their prying eyes. your hasty nod was all the confirmation he needed for him to let you access the door behind him. 

the night went by fairly smoothly with kaeya’s usual teasing and venti’s usual begging for alcohol. diluc’s eyes narrowed however, when the person seemed to ask him questions regarding you. things like, “i heard you’re dating y/n... they’re amazing, how long have you been together?” and “do they live with you at dawn winery?” diluc answered these questions as short as he could, trying to convey with his body language that he truly did not want to talk to them. 

everything was going well until he made the mistake of leaving the bar unattended. he had briefly forgotten about your residence in the room behind him as his mind immediately gravitated to breaking up a brawl. when he returned, the half drunk glass of liquor combined with the person’s absence from their seat, caused sparks of worry to light up inside his chest. 

turning to the door, he knocked once. 

“is everything alright in there love?”

the sounds of things rustling about and the occasional muffled voice had him opening the door quickly. he saw you with your arm being held tightly in their grasp, your mouth muffled with their hand, while you strained against them by pulling at your arm. 

diluc immediately made his way over to you, quickly pulling your arm away before letting you enter into his embrace. 

“get out.” the venomous words clawed their way out of his throat as he looked at them with eyes that screamed hatred. his blood was boiling as his mind replayed the scene; your scared expression and their greedy eyes. 

diluc didn’t need to repeat himself twice as they ran out, trying not to trip over crates of wine. he made a mental note to find out who they were in order to make sure they never came near you ever again. 

he quickly looked down at your form, relaxing slightly at the sight of your tentative smile. “my knight in shining armor” you joked before softly nuzzling your head into his shoulder. the anger had yet to dissipate from his veins, and although he knew you were still shaken up, he was sure you would be fine. 

a pink letter placed on the table next to you caught his eye, and he made sure to quickly pocket it as he led you out, gently jesting with you about the “unnecessary amount of wine barrels in here, diluc this is a safety hazard!” 

he would deal with this person later. 

childe

ayo AYO ITS THE TOY SALESMAN

ok tbh he’s very rarely around so he unfortunately cannot make it to all of your shows 

dw tho, he will try his hardest to be there for the ones he’s in town for bc what is he if not your number one hype king??? 

ok kinda creepy! alert 

he’s tasked two of his subordinates to keep watch over you whenever he’s out of the harbor

it’s not anything creepy,,, he just gets extremely worried abt you and wants to make sure you’re safe 

sO when he gets a ransom note??? he’s understandably confused but also very much freaked out 

bc did they not know who he was??? the fact that they thought they could get away with holding you captive was quite honestly kind of funny to him 

very stressed and angry tho - hides it behind a facade of smiles but he’s raging 

takes him only a few hours to track you down bc he had everyone and i mean EVERYONE looking for you 

the note crunched in his hand as the harbinger made his way towards windrise. his pace was erratic, long legs rushing towards the small cave his agents had found. they were bordering the perimeter of the enclosure, careful to not alert you or your captor of their presence. childe’s subordinate head had calmly stated that childe need not come out to rescue you, the situation was under control and they could do it for him. however, childe’s sharp gaze along with his sickly sweet words of “thanks but no. i’m coming out to see this sorry asshole for myself” had the agent backing away apologizing. he wanted to see the look on this person’s face before he shoved their sorry ass into the abyss himself. 

as he reached the opening of the cave, he glanced over his shoulder at his head agent; a silent warning to keep the area sealed. his blue eyes glinted with a thirst for blood before making his way into the cave, sealing off the exit with his body. 

“well well, playing games with the love of my life are we?” 

his teasing words reached your ears as your eyes immediately found the face of your boyfriend. you weren’t horribly scared, just a little shaken up and sore from the bindings on your wrists. relief coursed through your body at the sight of him. you needn’t put in your plan of getting out of these bindings to fight your captor yourself anymore. 

childe’s eyes quickly scanned over your frame, making sure you weren’t hurt. at the state of you completely unharmed, the harbinger let his heart calm down slightly. you were completely ok. 

“wait a little longer, love? i promise this will be over soon”

the wink he sent you had you lightly rolling your eyes at his antics before he directed his attention back to your kidnapper. if your captor wasn’t scared before, they were certainly shaking in their boots now at the sight of childe’s twin hydro blades rotating playfully in his hands. 

“listen, all i want is the money-”

“and all i want is your head” 

your boyfriend smiled after cutting them off. the severity of the situation truly seemed to sink in at that moment before pleas of mercy fell from your captor’s lips, desperate to escape the bloodthirsty gaze of the harbinger. childe’s eyes flickered over to yours where you sat there, with your head ferociously shaking. a silent “no.” he sighed before swiftly bringing his arm up to hit your captor on the head, effectively knocking them out cold. 

his hands worked at the ropes holding you and he gingerly rubbed at your bruised wrists. you silently thanked the archons he could never say no to you. archons forbid what would've happened if you hadn’t said anything. while you were explaining what happened, the young man quickly scooped you up in his arms before walking out of the cave. 

you playfully hit his shoulder while muttering “drama queen” but you stopped when you saw his face morph into an expression of seriousness. you had informed him on the situation about your captor revealing themselves to be a recent stalker of yours, completely oblivious to the look of frustration on his face as he freed you from your bondages. 

“i was scared you know.” he quietly divulged. “i knew that it wasn’t anything extremely serious but i... i was still scared”

you swore as you looked at him in that moment, he had turned ten again. the youth of his face betraying his vulnerability. 

you quietly hummed before tangling your fingers in his hair. “i hope you know it wasn’t your fault. it wasn’t anyone’s fault. not even the two fatui agents who you sent to stalk me while you were away.”

he quietly laughed at that before mentally filing away a reminder for a lecture to those two agents in the near future. 

“i’m just glad you’re safe. i know you can save yourself but i’ll always be here. i still wish you would let me take care of your asshole kidnapper myself though.” he pouted jokingly. 

“i’m sure the millelith will lock them up for a long time.” you laughed sweetly. 

his usual smile reappeared at your antics. maybe he didn’t get to beat your captor up and do...much worse. however at the end of the day, your smile was still intact regardless of what happened. that’s all he wanted. 

[screechthemighty]

Resident Evil Brain is still going brrrr, so here’s a new short fic! I actually came up with the idea for it ages ago, but finishing up everything stays gave me some breathing room to finish it off. You can read the full story below, but I’ll also post it to AO3 (same user name as here) and include a link to that in the reblogs!

If it were up to him, he wouldn’t have slept. He would have powered through, gone after the next Lord. Stopping to eat was one thing; stopping to sleep felt wrong. Almost like he was giving up, or wasting valuable time that could be the difference between life and death for his daughter.

But Ethan had nearly tripped while catching a chicken to eat, and deep down he knew he'd just get himself killed if he didn't rest at least a little. He wasn't expecting that somewhere to be the back of the Duke's wagon, but the man had offered, and Ethan was too tired to complain. He kept the two flasks he'd managed to gather close to his chest as he curled up in his corner. "It's gonna be okay," Ethan whispered. He wasn't sure if Rose could hear him; the Duke had said her essence was intact, whatever the hell that meant, so maybe. It couldn't hurt to try. "I'm coming for you, honey. I promise."

He just needed enough of a nap that his limbs would stop feeling so heavy. Ethan's eyes drifted shut. He thought between the stinging pain in his hand and the memories of that awful house with all the dolls, sleep wouldn't come easy, but he dozed off pretty quickly.

He woke up to a feeling of dread seizing his body.

At first, he thought he’d had a nightmare, but...no, it was deeper than that. Maybe it was his paranoia, but something wasn’t right. Ethan carefully moved off the cot and crept towards the front of the cart. He could just see the Duke’s shoulder, and past it...

Black robes, the flutter of feathers, no, no, she couldn’t be here, not now.

The other man glanced over his shoulder, pressing a single finger to his lips. That was the only thing that kept Ethan from panicking. He thought about making a run for Rose, but that would mean making noise. It was a miracle that Miranda hadn’t heard him move the first time.

How hadn’t she noticed them? The Duke wasn’t exactly subtle. Ethan kept bracing himself for her to turn her head, try to talk to the Duke, maybe even try to hurt him. She did look their way at one point, causing Ethan to duck back behind cover, teeth clenched, trying to steady his breathing. But when he looked again, she just moved on. As if there were nothing out of the ordinary about the Duke being there.

No. As if she hadn’t seen them at all.

Ethan stayed frozen in place until Miranda was out of sight. Even then, he kept his voice down to a whisper: “Is she...?”

“She won’t be a problem,” said the Duke. Ethan was taken aback by the other man’s tone—not quite aggressive, but definitely hostile. “Not for now, at least.” And then, just as swiftly... “It’s good that you’re awake! I’ve just finished preparing lunch.”

That tone was gone.

The smell of food was the only thing that got Ethan to leave the cart; even then, he made sure everything was packed away and secure before he did. He wanted to be ready if he had to run. The Duke didn’t seem worried, though. He just served up the dish (Ethan had already forgotten what it was called, but fuck it smelled good) and started eating his own portion as if nothing were wrong. As if he hadn’t just had the one and only major change in his mood that Ethan had seen in the time they’d known each other. It wasn’t that long in the grand scheme of things, but when the guy had been so consistent up until then, it was noteworthy. Weird, even.

Why are you doing all of this?

Why, it’s all part of our first class customer service.

Or maybe it was personal.

Ethan sneaked a few glances at the Duke as he ate. The man seemed genuinely unbothered, but maybe he was just good at hiding whatever that venom had been. “How didn’t she see us?” Ethan asked. It felt almost rude to ask, but if he was throwing in his lot with this guy, he felt like he had a right to know. “She wasn’t too far away.”

“I’ve been in this village longer than she has,” said the Duke. “It seems to agree with me more than it does her.” He noticed Ethan’s immediate frown. “What’s the longest you’ve ever lived somewhere, Ethan?”

“The same...place? I mean, I was in Dallas for a while. Not the same house the whole time, but...probably Dallas?”

“Well, after a while, wouldn’t you say that you get a feeling for a place’s...essence? How it moves, how it breathes? You could navigate it more quickly than a person who hadn’t been there as long, could you not? Stay hidden in places and ways they wouldn’t know about?”

Oh, for fuck’s sake. “...we’re right out in the open, there’s nothing...” Ethan sighed. “You know what, never mind. This is sounding like a conversation I should be drunk for.”

The Duke laughed. It didn’t sound mocking, at least. “Well, if you find anything left to drink in this place, bring it back with you. We can split the bottle.”

“Maybe. Once this is over.” And as long as it wasn’t from Dimitrescu’s winery. That stuff definitely wasn’t just fermented grapes.

Ethan kept eating, trying to focus on the food and not on the questions still nagging at his mind. Nothing about this place made sense, and the Duke was high up there on that list. Even if Ethan was choosing to trust him for now...

No, I have to knw.

“So...you know Miranda? Maybe not personally, but...” Ethan glanced up at the Duke, carefully studying his nearly unreadable face. “...I take it you don’t like her very much?”

The Duke hesitated. Even though his face stayed impassive, that alone was enough to catch Ethan’s attention. He wasn’t usually so slow to answer. “I am not one of her devotees, no,” the Duke said. “Which means I can clearly see she is the root of much suffering in this place.”

“The Lords? All those monsters?”

“In more ways than you realize. They were people once, you know. They might be monstrous now, but they are monsters of her making.”

Ethan understood what the Duke meant. He thought about the Bakers. The madman that had cut off his leg versus the man with kind eyes who’d begged him to save his family. The shrieking banshee with her bugs versus a woman who could’ve been his own grandmother. He wasn’t sure if Eveline had ever been anything but cruel, but even if she hadn’t, she wouldn’t have existed if it hadn’t been for someone else’s greed. Even the molded had been people once. Ethan didn’t regret defending himself and Mia, never would, and he’d keep defending himself here as long as these people kept screwing with him. But...

How different might things had been if someone somewhere down the line just hadn’t screwed with everyone? Just left the Lords, whoever they had been once, and the villagers in peace?

“Yeah,” Ethan said quietly. He took his last few bites of the food. “Fuck that crazy bitch, huh?”

The Duke laughed boisterously. "I'll certainly eat to that."

Ethan didn't entirely relax. He wasn't sure he was capable of that. But he was able to relax a little. Even if he didn't know how, it seemed like the Duke's little setup was a safe place.

There weren't too many of those in this place.

---

Knowing what to say and when best to say it was one of the most important parts of customer service. It was the only thing that kept the Duke from saying more to Ethan Winters. The poor man had enough on his plate, much he had to grapple with, most of it beyond the scope of his understanding. Further truth might not break him, but it would cause him unnecessary stress.

There was much the Duke would have told him if it weren’t for that concern. What centuries felt like. How this little village had changed, people coming and going, living and dying. How many had tried to seize the power the mountains held. None had truly succeeded before Miranda, the self-proclaimed mother of this place.

The Duke may have long forgotten the face of his own mother, but he remembered enough to know what maternal love felt like. Whatever Miranda had to offer was not that love. Just a twisted perversion of it, as the Lords were twisted perversions of children. She was an infection in these lands, but unfortunately, one he could do nothing about. The Duke had a great many tricks up his sleeve, but he was only a seller of arms. He had never learned to use them himself. He had always been keen to supply those who might oppose Miranda, but none had succeeded yet.

Out of all of them, he felt that Ethan Winters had the best chance of succeeding.

It wasn’t just the man’s biology, though that was clearly giving him an edge. It was something else: the spark the Duke had in his eyes from the first second they met. Determination. Rage. The kind of drive that couldn’t be found in any mold or virus in the world.

And what better to defeat a perversion of parental love than its true counterpart?

Ethan kept his bag clutched close to his chest as he ate, the bag that contained two parts of his daughter. The Duke had heard him whispering to the flasks before he fell asleep, trying to soothe and reassure the child. Even now, as he paused in eating, Ethan hummed quietly. A jaunty tune, one that the Duke didn’t recognize. “A favorite song of hers?” he asked.

Ethan glanced up. “Oh, uh. Yeah. ‘Doctor Worm.’ Never too early to get started on good music.” He held the bag a little closer before finishing off his meal. “Thanks. For the food. And for...” He gestured. “Whatever it was you did back there. If you did anything.”

His tone cemented the Duke’s decision to keep some things from Ethan. He sounded exasperated by even a simple cloaking technique. The Duke’s true age would only elicit a similar response.

Maybe if Ethan survived this, when he had less on his mind, the Duke could tell him everything. His full, dark history with Miranda. The full scope of the horrors he’d seen. The horrors that Ethan would have put a stop to. But for now, the Duke took Ethan’s plate with a smile. “Do keep an eye out for more meat as you go,” he said. “It would be an honor to have dinner with you.”

“Yeah,” Ethan said in a quiet huff. “Assuming I make it that long.”

That was always a risk, of course. That Ethan wouldn’t make it. But despite knowing that...

“After what you’ve done, Mr. Winters? I think you’re more than equipped to handle what’s to come.”

And he meant that. He truly did. Even if it was to be the death of Ethan Winters...the Duke had a feeling it would be the death of Mother Miranda as well.

He just hoped he would be able to explain exactly how truly important that was.

[b0rista]

i just saw your connie hcs and omg IM SO IN LOVE😩💕 is it okay to request an angst fic where connie’s s/o, gets shot instead of sasha?

— us.

an alternate universe where instead of losing his best friend, connie springer loses his soulmate.

AN: we love traumatizing q-ball here <3

WARNINGS: violence, death, extreme angst. && this is unedited, oops.

as the night deepened in its severity, you were swerving atop the disarray like that of a fallen angel. no matter how inhuman it felt, your duty was inevitable, as was the cause that came alongside it. you were a soldier. you, and your family. well, they weren’t linked to you through blood, but through experience, and even sorrow. as far blood relative, you were sure that you were nearing the final remnants of your family tree.

you win some, you lose some. even through all of the heartbreak and the waste, you'd managed to gain one thing. one beautiful, perplexing thing. well, it was more of a person than it was a thing; your love, your life, your will to move on— your connie. while you'd only become an item recently, you and connie's feelings toward one another go back, and far. in all honesty, you couldn't exactly recall when it was you first started loving him. and with his feeble memory, you were sure that it went both ways. fortunately, you can't bring yourself to care all that much about the past. you were living in the now, and turbulently so.

currently, you were in the midst of a mission. an intense one, at that. while each and every one of your assignments served with severe purpose, this one in particular wasn't meant to be taken lightly. after all, this had to be your very first time off of the island. not only were you standing on unfamiliar soil, but you were also standing within the core of an established battle between two entirely seperate worlds— that fact alone was enough dangerous as it was exhilarating.

however, the said battle was soon coming to a close, and it was nearing the end of your abrupt visit at the marleyan headquarters. the assignment was meant to be brief, if not a little tightly knit. you were to fight alongside the opposing combatants, retrieve your distant comrade, eren jaeger, and retreat immediately. and while you were still a bit skeptical of the literal aircraft you'd be traveling on, it was surely something you could get used to.

standing alongside your given sector of the battlefield, you were preparing for takeoff. due to having excelled in hand to hand combat during your time as a trainee, you were put closer to the ground than the rest of your associates, much to your worried boyfriend's dismay. as always, he fretted over you. if you so pleased, you could drop him on his ass whenever you'd like. even so, it always felt as if your capabilities were underestimated.

nevertheless, this wasn't the time nor the place for you to sulk in your own bitterness. soon, you'd be home. in the mere matter of hours, you'd be back within the comfortable abode of your home, cozied up in the arms of your beloved. in the moment, that's all you could bring yourself to even think about. you were tired, you were. if anything, the fighting only drained you. you were drained, and the only one able to comfort you was halfway across the battlefield, fighting the same fight as you. once you were to rejoice on the aircraft, you would be sure to pester him for the affection you craved ever so intensely.

with that being said, a call from afar was quick to pull you out of your own head and back to reality. from across the calloused ground that you stood upon, a familiar face waved in your direction.

"y/n!" they would call, "we're boarding— it's time to go home."

at that, you wasted no time in gathering yourself. with a nod, you readied your gear, intertwining your fingertips in between the metallic leashes that resided on your hips. with a single jolt, you propell yourself forwards, releasing your gear's wires onto the nearest rooftop. the moment your feet left the ground, you headed toward the jet. alas, your work here was done.

just as your comrade had said, it was time to go home.

while the carnage beneath you served as a grim reminder of just how destructive your livelihood was, it was the thought of returning to your sweet home within the walls that urged you to look away. a fire had been lit upon your very own accord, and you despised this war. still, it was your war to fight, and with good reason. at least, that's what you told yourself.

as your team's blimp came into view, your voyage into the sky became rushed. clearly, you were aching to leave. little did you know that below the latches of your ODM gear, a tiny pair of copper hues were watching you; and with the utmost fury.

with that final clasp hooking to the aircraft's entrance, you swiftly flew into the air, inured hands grasping at the rescue ropes that fluttered against the metal exterior. the air serving a harsh breeze against your skin, you climbed to the door. however, before you could pull yourself in, a hand reached out to your aid.

"come," the voice would say, earning quite the look from you. to your immediate relief, it was the exact person you'd been meaning to see. looking down at you from within the jet was connie, his arm extended out toward you. and while you couldn't exactly see it due to the circumstances, there was a faint glimmer of consolation poured within his golden hues. thank god, you were alright.

taking hold of his hand, you allowed him to pull you up, bringing you into the craft with such a force, you'd have assumed he was angry with you. however, you knew that that wasn't the case— he was relieved, in the same way that you were. and immediately, he began checking you of any possible harm.

"how are you?" he'd ask, fingers moving to pinch at your cheeks. you only winced at the feeling, the literal life being squeezed out of your face as your boyfriend hurriedly scanned you. this was an occurrence that happened at the end of each and every expedition, much to your displeasure. "are you hurt? anything happen while we were seperated? i didn't realize it'd get so hectic, or else i would have-"

in the midst of his banter, you would only place your hands on his forearms, lowering his touch from either side of your face. gently, you would give them a squeeze, providing him with that reassurance that he desperately needed. softly, you would smile, "i'm okay. by the looks of it, most of us are. that's good."

with a sigh, connie would nod. after all, you were right. only few soldiers were injured, and from what the two of you could tell, most of them were coming home. considering the rare occurrence, you could only smile.

from the corner of your eye, you could see more and more comrades boarding the aircraft. and with time, a particularly familiar face would pull himself on board. having made himself out to be quite the leader, it brought warmth to your core to see jean return safely. the same went for your other friends, of course— sasha, mikasa, armin, and so on. at this point in time, you couldn't even classify them as friends. they were family.

seeing as though your lover was quietly waiting to reconcile with the others, you would lay a brief pat to his shoulder. "i'm gonna put up my gear," you'd say, bringing yourself up to your feet. "while i do that, you ought to thank those two for making it through."

with a nod, he would comply. as always, you were the one to nudge him in the right direction. it was your straightforwardness that balanced out connie's constant uncertainty, adding yet another reason as to why the two of you were simply perfect. without any further discussion, he would make his way over to the entrance of the jet, rejoicing with jean and sasha. as he did, you made your way to the compartment sector of the craft, stowing away your gear. after all, there wasn't any further need for it.

as you situated yourself for the trip back to paradis, you would exchange small talk with your fellow soldiers, both congratulating and thanking those who made it back alive. because truly, you were thankful. it wasn't often that you gain such a victory. though, as time went on and you'd circled your way through the plane, you found yourself headed right back to where your heart lingered.

sitting along the back of the carrier, you saw your love hooked in the middle of his fabulous trio of friends, pulling an immediate smile out of you. he was yet to see you, but you could see him. with both of his arms latched onto the other two, you could hear his quiet confession from where you stood.

"it's not very fair to the others, but you guys are special ... to me."

not wanting to spoil the three's moment, you would only watch. it was the tender silence that stitched together a memorable matter of seconds, despite the circumstances. from a fair couple of feet away, you smiled. unfortunately for you, he was able to catch it.

"and you," connie would add, quickly reaching over to grasp your hand, "you're no different."

melting into his touch, all you could do was interlock your fingers in his own, lips tipping in yet another smile. taking advantage of the opportunity, the boy would pull you into his shared embrace, tugging you in between him and the other two. the iron outline of your uniform managed to graze jean's side, causing quite the exclamation: "ouch, jackasses. don't go for the hug when you're covered head-to-toe in metal."

of course, you would only ignore the brunette's antics, further sinking into the heavenly embrace of your lover. with your cheek pressed against his chest and his fingers tracing along the locks of your hair, you immediately felt at ease. this was home.

"now, now," sasha would coo, adjusting her ponytail, "now isn't the time to overflow the aircraft in your PDA, lovebirds. when do we get to eat?"

pulling your head from connie's chest, you would let out a chuckle, "not until we land, sasha. you do realize we're in the air, right?"

"ah," the girl would sigh, sheepishly moving to scratch the back of her neck. adjusting yourselves, the bunch of you moved to your feet, "i suppose i haven't quite adjusted just yet. just three years ago, we relied on our horses for everything."

"yeah," jean would add, "somehow, it feels like that was just yesterday."

now that you were all situated, the four of you shifted further towards the rest of your team, who were all dancing and shouting in celebration. you hadn't even realized how elated everyone was, having been so focused on the others. out of everyone boarded the ship, it was those who were apart of the 104th that had witnessed the most. with that in mind, acts of celebration were more mild than anything else. while you were glad, you were glad quietly.

still, something felt off. somebody was missing.

just as you were about to make a comment regarding the missing member of the squadron, a quick remark from sasha caught your attention.

"did you hear a sound just now?"

while the other two dismissed the thought, it was you that took it into a much more thorough consideration. compared to anyone else, sasha's sense of hearing was impeccable. while the others may have failed to realize it, she heard something. and with her senses mixed with your paranoia, you were quick to take the remark into account. out of instinct, you watched the door. the door was open, and one of your comrades from below remained missing. the door was open, and sasha heard something. the door was open, and it was vacant of any sort of movement.

the door was open, and someone slipped through.

a miniature figure with a barreled weapon pounced through the doorway and onto the aircraft, and at the sight of a single finger latched onto the trigger, your heart itself dropped. before anyone else had the chance to react, you did. seeing as though the muzzle was aiming toward the center of the flood, you were quick to lunge sideways, pushing whoever it was that stood before the armed figure out of the way. as you flushed whatever will you had to live into the force of your push, sasha simply looked at you in horror— the horror of having to survive, simply due to your own accord.

it was quick. it was immediate, the single bullet, plunging directly into your chest. it was quick to enter you, and it was just as quick to warp you of your senses completely. while you saw that you were falling, you couldn't feel the impact of the wooden floor beating into your back. you couldn't feel it. you felt nothing.

and while you felt nothing, connie felt everything. his entire universe, crumbling apart before him.

in a blend of absolute horror, you could see from your hindsight as he rushed to your side, palms immediately moving to cup your face. moving your blurred gaze towards him, he would shout at you. he would shout, but it was all unintelligible.

"no, no, no," he would mutter, fiercely shaking his head. you were in an absolute daze, and he couldn't sense what you were feeling. hell arose in the back, and your attackers were being mercilessly beaten into defeat. your friends, however, didn't leave your side.

tears brimming in her eyes, sasha would rush to get some sort of a bandage for your wound, which was bleeding profusely. before anyone could process anything, you were laying in a pool of blood, the crimson flow staining your uniform.

"goddammit— HURRY!" your lover would scream, eyes wide. your head lay in his lap, and his fingers tenderly graze the sides of your cheeks in a loving, desperate manner. soon enough, he would feel the raw set of tears begin to well at the corners of his eyes, too. this wasn't happening, this couldn't happen. not to you. dear god, not to you.

"look at me, y/n." he would say, to which you tried your absolute hardest to oblige. you tried, but as your life itself began to drain, you only struggled.

"you can't leave, baby. you can't go, not yet. not after everything we've been through, everything we've fought for! it's always been us, it's always been you. look at me!"

however, you couldn't look. no, you couldn't do anything. instead, you could use whatever strength you held, and mutter the very last of your words: "us."

it's always been us.

with that, your blood went cold. and as your eyes closed, and your skin paled, a blood curdling scream begging you to stay filled the air around you.

[beelsjuicytitties]

You’re Wonderful

First fic oh wow! Its been a while since ive written anything other than poetry, so im a lil rusty, but im super excited to post this! Feel free to let me know what you think!

Warnings: NSFW 

Pairing: Mammon x GN!MC

Words: 2253

Tags:  Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Gender-Neutral Main Character (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Reader-Insert, Light Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Fluff, Smut, Praise Kink, Body Worship, Blow Jobs, Comfort Sex, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Biting, Nipple Play, Kissing, Not Beta Read

Summary:  MC teases Mammon, but notices something is wrong. They then make it up to Him

Note: This is also on my AO3, which is linked in my bio!

  “Sometimes you really can be an idiot y’know,” y/n laughed gently as they closed the door to Mammons room. They both had just finished getting chewed out by Lucifer after flunking a test, and Y/N was trying to lighted the mood with a bit of humor.

  “You failed too, don’t go about actin’ like you’re better than me.” There was a distinct edge to Mammons voice as he said the words, keeping his body turned away from y/n. His shoulders were hunched in slightly and it was clear he was upset. 

  “Mammon? Hun?” y/n moved closer to Mammon, stepping so they were standing almost in front of him before gently setting a hand on his upper arm. Mammon looked to where their hand was resting with a sad, slightly dejected look. “Are you alright? I know Lucifer went pretty hard on us.” He shook his head slightly.

  “‘M used to that from him..” He sniffed slightly. “D’you really think ‘m an idiot y/n?” Mammon looked up to y/n’s face, and they gasped slightly. 

  “N-no Mammon, I-” they began.

  “‘Cause I know all my brothers do. Always callin’ me a ‘No good, greedy idiot.’” Mammon’s throat grew tight as tears threatened to spill as he reached over to grab y/n’s hand from his arm. “An’ I can take it from them, I don’t care what those fuckers think, but you..” he placed their hand against his cheek. “I care what you think.” Y/n gently stroked their thumb against his cheek.

  “Mammon I didn’t realize.. I’m so so sorry, it must be so hard for you. Can I try to make it up to you?” Mammon nodded against their hand, and y/n smiled. “Thank you Honey.” They gave him a gentle kiss and dropped their hand to his shoulder. “Let’s get this jacket off okay?” Mammon shrugged his jacket off at the words. “Shoes as well please.” He complied with a grunt, and y/n picked them up. They put both his jacket and shoes away in his closet, along with their own shoes, and pulled out a fluffy blanket they had stashed there. 

  They gently pushed Mammon to his bed, propping pillows up before motioning for him to get in. Mammon crawled into his bed with a small grunt, wiggling around a bit to get comfortable. Y/n followed him shortly, fluffing up the blanket so it covered the both of them up to their shoulders. Y/n faced Mammon, and cuddled against him, placing a gentle hand on his far cheek so they could turn him to face them. 

  “Mammon,” they started, a serious yet loving expression on their face, “You are amazing, so passionate and caring.” A light blush dusted Mammons tan cheeks as he snaked an arm around Y/n’s waist. “I see how wonderful you are in every moment of every day, the way you care for your brothers, and me.” They rubbed their thumb idly against his cheek. “You’re not an idiot, you’re incredible when it comes to equations, and yeah maybe you struggle with your grades, but that is by no means indicative of your intelligence.” 

  Y/n tilted their face forewards to rest their forehead against Mammon’s. “Hell Mammon, if it wasn’t for you I doubt I’d even be alive at this point, you’re truly my knight in shining armour.” Mammon was blushing deeply now, but he kept his eyes locked with Y/n’s. A small smile cracked across his face at the words.

 “You got that right Y/n” Mammon’s voice was still a little croaky, but there was a light note to it. Y/n slid their hand from his cheek to the back of his neck, pulling him in for a kiss. The kiss was soft, and Y/n did their best to convey all the love and appreciation they had for Mammon. When they separated, the both of them continued to lay just as they were, staring into each others eyes, breathing each others air, for seconds, maybe minutes. 

  Eventually, Mammon pulled his arm from Y/n’s waist, and gently grabbed the wrist of the hand they had resting on his neck. Y/n hummed curiously, as Mammon slowly moved their hand down to his crotch, where a notable bulge had formed. “Mmm,” Y/n smiled and rubbed against Mammon’s cock through his jeans. “Want me to make this feel good as well?” A coy smile spread across their face as Mammon swallowed hard and nodded. “My pleasure~.”

  Y/n shifted, bringing their hand up to push Mammon’s shoulder down so he was laying flat on his back. They straddled his hips, gently grinding against him as the blanket fell away. Y/n leaned foreward, dotting kisses all over Mammon’s forehead, temples, nose, cheeks, before finally catching his mouth. Mammon ran his hands up along their thighs, hips, and up their back under their shirt. Y/n flicked their tongue out, and Mammon quickly responded in kind, their tongues tangling together. Reluctantly, Y/n pulled back, to the protests of Mammon, before quickly moving their mouth to his neck. As they licked, bit, and sucked at all the tender spots on his neck, they reached down and under his shirt, pushing it up and rubbing their hands all over his stomach and chest. 

  “Your muscles always feel so wonderful under my hands.” Y/n whispered, to which Mammon let out a small moan. They leaned back and tugged Mammon’s shirt up and off, flinging it to the floor, before lowering themself down to take a sensitive nipple in their mouth. Mammon moaned again, this time a bit louder, while Y/n sucked on and teased a nipple, their hands tracing over his arm and torso muscles. Once Y/n was satisfied with their work on Mammon’s chest, the began shifting lower, kissing down his torso and running their hands up and down his hips. “I think it’s about time i pay attention to this.”

  No more teasing, Mammon was whimpering at every kiss and touch as Y/n worked off his belt, undid his jeans, and slid them down along with his underwear. He kicked his bottoms off the rest of the way as Y/n wrapped a hand around the shaft of his cock. They let spit drip from their mouth onto the tip of his cock, and spread it around to the rest of it with their hand. “Oh, Mammon, you’re so wonderfully excited aren’t you.” Y/n teased before taking the head into their mouth and sucking. They kept their hand stroking at moderate pace, and swirled their tongue around the tip in their mouth. Mammon pushed a hand into their hair, he was breathing heavily and gentle moans and whimpers fell from his mouth freely. Y/n pulled his cock out of their mouth with a pop. “Fuck Mammon, you taste so good,” the were practically purring as they moved down to swipe their tongue against his balls, then dragging their tongue back up the underside of his cock before taking it back in their mouth. They began to bob their head up and down his shaft, stroking around the base with one hand and fondling his balls with the other.

  “F-fuckkk..” is all Mammon could manage as he threw his head back. Y/n then pushed their head down as far as they could, filling their mouth and throat with him. They moaned on his cock, causing Mammon to buck upwards a few time into them. Y/n kept their head there for a few more seconds, before pulling back with a slight cough. 

  “Your cock fills my mouth so well, so warm and hard for me,” they punctuated each work with a kiss or lick, “but I want more, I want you in me, I wanna ride you Mammon, God I want that so badly.” Mammon nodded rapidly and Y/n pulled themself up so they could strip themself bare. Mammon leaned over to his bedside drawer, grabbing the bottle of lube out. He gazed up at Y/n, now naked and grinding needily against him.

  “Lemme warm you up.” As much as Mammon wanted to get inside Y/n, he also wanted this to be as pleasurable as possible for the both of them. Y/n nodded in response.

  “Please- hurry,” they basically whimpered. Y/n leaned back on their hands to provide him better access, and he squirted a fair amount of lube onto his fingers. He brought his now lubed fingers down to Y/n’s entrance, and started rubbing gentle circles around it at first. He then slipped a finger in, he slowly fingered them, curling his finger to hit all the right places. Y/n moaned and panted, as he slid a second finger in. He could feel Y/n tensing around his fingers as he worked and stretched them. He worked their hole until he couldn’t hold back any longer, and pulled his fingers out. 

  “I wanna fu-fuck you Y/n.” He had already grabbed the lube, and squeezed out some to slick up his cock. 

  “Yes, oh yes please Mammon,” Y/n’s voice was full of need. “Please put it in, fill me up with your cock mmh.” Mammon lined himself up, pushing into Y/n slightly, before he grabbed their hips, and pulled them down onto him. Both Y/n and Mammon let out loud moans as they slid down him, quieting slightly as they bottomed out. “Oh fuuck Mammon, you’re so big, filling me so good,” Y/n moaned out words of praise. They leaned forwards, placed their hands on Mammon’s chest, and slowly began to move. They rolled their hips as they moved, doing their best to pleasure Mammon. At the same time, Mammon took a hand off their hip, and placed it onto one of Y/n’s hands, slightly holding it. Y/n’s mouth hung open as the bounced and rolled on Mammon’s cock, picking up a bit of speed.

  “Lemme flip ya over,” Mammon said between pants. “I wanna fuck inta ya, make ya f-feel as good as you’ve made me feel.” Y/n nodded and stopped moving long enough for Mammon to swiftly flip the two of them, so he was now leaning over them, arms resting on either side of their head. He rested his forehead against theirs, and felt Y/n wrap their legs around him. He began to thrust into them, a strong, steady pace. Y/n ran their hands through his hair and against his neck as they stared into each others eyes. Happy smiles spread across both of their faces as Mammon fucked into them, speeding up and slowing down seemingly at random. 

  “I love you so much, my wonderful Mammon.” Y/n’s words were partially lost behind moans, but Mammon fully understood them.

  “I-I love you too-” his thrusts were getting more frantic “-I love you my-” a loud groan “-my treasure..” They were both very close at this point, and Mammon tilted his head to kiss Y/n. A deep, loving kiss. Y/n squeezed around Mammon inside them. Mammon pulled away from the kiss and whimpered “I- I’m gonna-”

  “M-Me too, sso close mmnh.” Mammon bit down on Y/n’s neck as his thrusts turned short and quick, Y/n held tight onto him, trying to have as much contact with him as possible. Mammon let out a muffled groan as he came inside Y/n without slowing down his thrusts until he heard Y/n let out the most wonderful sound he’d ever heard, and felt them twitch and pulse around him. He slowed, then came to a stop, he released Y/n’s neck from his teeth, the skin surprisingly still intact, but bruises were already forming. Mammon flopped over to lay next to Y/n, his cum oozing from them slightly. Y/n turned and shakily took his hands in theirs.

  “That was amazing Mammon.” Their voice was light and breathy as they praised him more. “I’m so lucky to have you in my life.”

  “I should be sayin’ that to you Y/n..” Mammon struggled to find the right words. “Ya really make me feel like.. Like I’m worth somethin’.” Y/n kissed Mammon’s hands, and then his nose, and a quick kiss to his lips. They both stayed there for a little while, basking in the afterglow, and in each others love.

  “Hey, Mammon,” Y/n whispered. Mammon hummed slightly in response. “As much as I would love to stay right here as we are, we should probably get cleaned up.” Mammon groaned and turned his face into the pillows.

  “I knoooooow,” Mammon said, voice severely muffled by the pillows. He pushed himself up and climbed out of the bed. He went to the bedside drawer, and pulled out a pack of wet wipes. “Here, lemme getcha cleaned up.” He pulled a wipe out of the packaging.

  “Thank you hun.” Y/n smiled at Mammon, and adjusted how they were laying to make it easier for him. He cleaned them up, cleaning up a bit that had spilled onto his sheets, and tossed the wipe into his trash can. “Now we can cuddle as long as we want~” Mammon climbed back into the bed, pulling the blanket back over them before wrapping himself around Y/n.

  “As long as we want eh? Guess you’re stuck here then.” He nuzzled his face against their neck.

[cajunquandary]

A Beacon to Beasts

A Beacon to Beasts

AO3 Link (in the works, check back later)

Summary: While Dean is in Purgatory, he comes across some interesting monsters who help him through.

Created for @spndarkbingo​

Square Filled: Fornication

Rating: R (18+ ONLY)

Pairing: Dean x Reader x Benny

Warnings: Dark Fic. Canon level violence, SMUT (p in v, biting, anal, oral, dp, unprotected sex *dont be silly wrap the willy,* all the smut, also I might be developing a praise!kink here??), angst, traumatic memories. If you squint: suicide, Destiel, Denny

Word Count: 7600

A/N: Originally published in early 2017, this is a total rewrite with the tremendous help of @thinkinghardhardlythinking​ and @wonder-cole​. You talented bitches. I love you.

Lightning spider-webbed across the sky, for a brief moment illuminating every shadow across Purgatory. The forest practically hissed in the unwelcome brightness as the trees whispered amongst themselves. A crack of thunder caused a quake larger than you’d felt in the god forsaken land ever before. It cracked the sound barrier, bent the hellscape reality at all of its slithering edges, and sent a shockwave so powerful it nearly tore apart every cell in your body. With an eerie silence, darkness fell again, and as your eyes adjusted, you could see that the beast attacking you was fleeing the other direction from whence it’d come—no, not fleeing. It was chasing the impact. 

Something pulled in your chest like a red-hot meat hook, something that sent sparks of electricity straight into your brain and signaling an overwhelming raw need. You were familiar with such will-crushing lust. Your fangs were proof. But this… this was stronger than anything you’d ever felt before. It nearly drove you mad. You could feel your mind slipping, until you took a step forward, then another, and another. The more you walked towards the source of the prior disturbance, the more sated you felt. The more whole. 

It took weeks of fighting others like you and endless backtracking to find the source—a vampire and another beast. It was a bit like a human, but no humans could be in Purgatory. Whatever it was, it was intoxicating. 

Your body shuddered at the proximity of the delicious flesh. The warmth. You were merely a moth, drawn to a flame of your own destruction. Your head swam and you reached towards the man, but another fang sped from the shadows opposite you first. This was just enough of a distraction to pull you back from the brink. 

You crouched behind a half-rotten tree, only one eye peeking from behind your cover. The human barely had time to react before the fiend had him forced into the well-trodden packed earth. His fall was hard. Your mouth watered as his pulse quickened and echoed through your soul. 

The vampire accompanying the human sent the attacker’s head flying so closely that spattered monster blood landed on your hand. The foul stench drove you deeper into the safety of the trunk. You didn’t want to be next. 

In this land, the best way to survive was to stay hidden, quiet, so you decided to follow them for the first few weeks, being careful to keep to the shadows. The thirst for the human ebbed and swelled unpredictably. At times, it was all you could do to resist the pulse exposed on his neck, especially when the man slept. 

For days you tried to figure out what the other one was, who he was, but damn, was he a monster magnet. You’d been in pretty thick shit before, but never like this. Your cover was nearly blown a few times a day, but you were thankful the two were too busy fighting their own to notice you.

“Damn, man. You’re humanity is gon get us kilt.” The vampire wiped the rancid blood from his blade on the latest dead monster’s shirt.

“Yeah well, as soon as we find Cas, we’re getting the hell out of hell.” A human in Purgatory? How? No wonder there had been such a disturbance. He must have been pulled here by a great force--one that very nearly ripped the entire existence apart. 

“Hey brother, I’m startin to think the angel don’t wanna be found. Dean, think about it. Every time we get close, he disappears again.”

“Benny—don’t.” The human stormed away from the vampire. What was going on? A human and an angel? Things must be getting really messy up top.

The vampire, Benny, turned suddenly in your direction, and you closed your eyes, hoping the thick layer of leaves and thorny bushes camouflaged you well enough. It must have, because he merely shrugged and walked after Dean.

This night was the quietest it had been since The Event. It had been hours since the last monster attack and you were almost as exhausted as they looked. It wasn’t long before the men settled down into the dust and a pile of dry brush and began to lightly snore. Usually one stood guard as the other slept, but on this occasion, both must have been too far gone to care. 

You crept slowly forward, focused completely on the human. He was so beautiful. The creases of his forehead were reduced to fine lines as he slumbered, slow, tender breath fluttering across weary-pale swollen lips, freckles and mud mixed on his cheeks, hair tousled and bloodied, yet still so soft and shiny. His lashes twitched as he dreamed. You were only a few feet away now, beginning to feel lost in the warmth radiating from him, drunk in the light from his soul.

A sharp pain through your side interrupted your trance and you collapsed into a prickly shrub. Between gulps of agony, you could just make out that you were pinned to the ground with a rough makeshift javelin, reminiscent of a butterfly pinned to a shadow box as you’d owned as a human. You screamed in pain, and if you weren’t already twice dead, you’d worry about losing too much blood.

A pair of boots came into your view. “I smelled you days ago. I know you’ve been followin’ us. Why haven’t you attacked? You workin for someone?”

You looked from under your brows, straining to see if Dean was still where he had been, but found nothing. All you could do was gasp shallowly against the burning splinters. It had been years since anyone had gotten the jump on you like this. The bit of human that was left within you prayed that this was a bad dream, that you would wake in a moment in the gently swaying safety of the treetops.

The javelin was ripped from your aching side, and you screamed again as your organs smacked back together in the loss of pressure. The vampire threw you against the nearest tree. Through the pain that overwhelmed your ability to flee, you watched in utter captivation as the human secured you with heavy, rusted chains.

The latter bent close to your face, piercing green eyes a stark contrast to the caked mud and blood spattered across pale cheeks. “Now look, you piece of shit. I’m gonna waste you like I’ve wasted every damn thing in this place. But first, you’re gonna tell me where the angel is, and why you’ve been following us. If I like your answer, I’ll make it quick. If not… well, I don’t normally like the answers.” He smirked, tilting his head just slightly as if he was considering just how he was going to end you. 

You gulped hard knowing the human meant business. You’d seen him firsthand, the violence, the rage. All this man left behind him were wide trails of blood.

You were shaking now, feverish and confused. When had your fangs come out? You retracted them in an attempt to look less intimidating and more cooperative. Between gritted teeth and a gradual tunneling of vision, you managed to respond. “I’ve been tracking you since you arrived. There was this storm, and I’ve felt a pull towards you the whole time. I-I don’t work for anyone, I swear.” His gnarly blade pressed into the soft flesh of your throat now and panic was rising  and threatening to close off your throat if the blade didn’t do it first. “I didn’t even know about the angel until earlier today when I overheard you.”

“Well. I don’t think I like your answer.” Dean sliced deeply into your arm, which produced a guttural scream from deep within your core. The blade itself didn’t hurt that bad, but whatever was on it sure did. Benny walked away, knowing what was coming. Benny was a monster—Dean was worse.

“P-please I don’t know, I just know the light—your soul is like a candle in this endless darkness. I’ve been here for so, so long and you feel like home, like safety. I crave your closeness and I don’t know the details of why, but I couldn’t hurt you.”

Benny looked over his shoulder as Dean paused. Something struck a chord. Benny walked back over and pulled Dean slightly off to the side, almost out of earshot.

“Brother, I think she’s tellin’ the truth. We should give this one a chance to talk.”

“Why? She doesn’t know anything about Cas. She’s just another monster in my way.”

“And so was I. We were both human once. Let’s hear her out. She hasn’t even fought back.”

The fatigue and injuries caught up with you. Focusing on the thick red-black ooze streaming from your wounds, sleep was finding you swiftly with your head falling forward, blood-soaked hair in your eyes and chest pulled tight against the restraints.

Dean lifted your chin with the end of his blade, remnants of your internals still glistening on the edge. Your eyes followed the length of his arm to his face where he held you in an unwavering gaze. Those eyes were greener than anything in this world—more than the trees you hid in, the brush around you, or the sparse grass beneath your feet. 

You seized your breath and relaxed your tense muscles. If this was finally what wiped you into oblivion, it would be okay, as long as you could stare into those eyes. After all, you were tired of fighting. Your mortal soul had been tired in life, grown wearier after you were turned, another century had passed before you’d been sent here after a hunter took you out. The memory flashed by: how you sat there on your knees, glad to be facing the barrel of the gun after so long that you didn’t even fight. Had you known you’d end up here, you may have fought more to stay topside. But now, you faced oblivion, or so you hoped. This would finally be the end of the suffering, the fighting.

Dean must have read the all-too-familiar look of defeat and acceptance in your face. He lowered the knife, letting your head fall forward again, and caught you in his arms as the chains broke and clattered to the dust.

He leaned you against the base of the tree. You weakly gazed upward through hooded eyes, wanting to see past the leaves to the empty sky, but couldn’t. It was all grisly branches for a hundred feet up.

“Why were you creeping up on me?” Dean pulled your attention back to them.

Battling the unconsciousness that nipped unwaveringly at the corners of your mind, you whispered, “The ache in my chest… the closer I get to you, the easier it is to handle. I wasn’t going to hurt you, I just needed to be... closer.”

“And is this better?” He motioned to the foot’s distance between you.

“Yeah,” You half-smiled through gritted teeth, the pain from your side still throbbing. It wouldn’t kill you. Nothing in Purgatory killed a monster except another monster—usually by beheading. It still hurt like a bitch, though, and left you exposed and vulnerable like a wounded animal.

He pursed his lips and shared a look with Benny, who shrugged. “I’ll stay up and watch, Dean. You get more rest before it starts again. And I’ll watch you, specifically.” The other vampire motioned at you, an intensity behind his blue eyes you could identify with. This human was meant to be protected, no matter the personal cost.

Dean was soon asleep again, his back turned to you.

The earth supporting your broken form was anything but forgiving. But still, you weren’t going to waste time whimpering to yourself now that you were a part of the misfit group. “Benny, where are you from? How long have you been here?” You wondered aloud.

He eyed you suspiciously, pausing before he answered. “I ran with a crew out of Louisiana, but we sailed all over the Americas. Been here a long time.”

You adjusted your position with a grunt. Benny’s hand was already on his weapon. “Calm down, sailor, just tryin to get comfortable... I’m from Shreveport. Been here a long time, too. Only did about two centuries up top, though.”

“Well, I’ve got a few on you then, sister. Shreveport was nice. Rolled through there a few times.” The vampire chuckled at the memory.

Even still, your body had different plans for the evening, and if anything else was said afterwards, you wouldn’t remember. Rest was in the cards that evening, even if your mind protested. Between stretches of sweet nothing, nightmarish memories flashed by in haphazard, non-chronological snippets. 

There you stood, on the bridge above deep, twisting waters. Though the wind whipped your hair wildly, you could feel nothing. Not since the day you were bit.

Then you were in the shed on your grandfather’s land, centuries before, when you were young but still so old. Had you ever had a chance? And there were fires and anthills, guns and chains. 

Before that one could go where you knew it would, you shot awake. Benny raised a concerned brow in your direction, but you couldn’t face him. Not after that. Within moments, sleep took you once again. 

The butterfly pinned in the box. Such a stark contrast was that orange and red and blue against the green felt and the glint of silver pins. You would chuckle at the sight if you could. Tiny fingers traced the outline of the glass. 

Then you were on your knees. You didn’t even fight. This? This was the day you died… the second time. By the hands of an inexperienced young hunter who was too focused on fighting with his dad to even notice you there. I mean, he practically tripped over you. The boy looked tall for his age, hazel eyes partially obscured by choppy bangs and mouth pressed into a thin line. He hesitated too long. You’d cocked your head to the side, wondering if he even had it in him to off you, and you almost felt sorry for the kid. Especially when his dad saw. The old black-haired ass berated him, belittled him. Compared him to his older brother. A disgrace, he’d said. Nothing like him, nothing like Mary. When the boy could look you in the eyes, you gave a slight nod as if to say, “It’s okay, I forgive you.” Those bright hazel eyes morphed into the moon cast over a monster wasteland. 

By morning’s light, you felt better, somewhat healed, but mostly sore. You and Benny spoke all the while, learned your ins and outs, and caught up on the situation with Dean, the toothy leviathans, the apocalypse (again), the dick angels, and everything else Dean had filled him in on weeks ago. If you weren’t in Purgatory yourself, you never would’ve believed all this. I mean, angels? C’mon. 

Sure enough, Benny was right. Beasts continued to attack in waves. There were a few close calls, and not one would speak of the whereabouts of the angel Castiel, though a few tried to save themselves by spouting lies. Dean would see right through them. It only ever took one question. “What color are the angel’s eyes?” A few had gotten lucky and guessed blue, but Dean didn’t even accept that answer. You asked once, what answer he was hoping for. He only shook his head in response. 

There were times, though, when he would describe Cas to you in the quiet of night, and it was like listening to a lost lover. Dean gave in after some months and described the angel’s eyes as full of grace, blue, but slightly glowing. And not just any blue, no. The bluest blue you could ever imagine. The purest blue. He spoke longingly about things they’d done, things he wanted to do, wanted to say. Needed to say. You would close your eyes and drift off to him mumbling stories of Cas, the fondness softening his voice.

It was dark again and the almost empty end of a particularly difficult day. You’d all sustained serious injuries from the violent fray that only seemed to become more dense as of late. You and Benny would heal quickly, but Dean wouldn’t… and you worried for him, lingering protectively close.

The weary hunter screamed in time with the monster as he thrust his knife through its eye, his voice echoing long after the lifeless body crumpled in front of him. In a rage, he threw his weapon down, stalking over to a nearby tree. He punched, kicked and threw himself against the bark until he was nearly bloodied beyond recognition. Benny could only look down, powerless to help his friend. Unable to watch any longer, you forced yourself between Dean and the tree. His eyes were closed until his bruised fists struck soft skin stretched over bone, the unexpected change in texture catching him off guard. You winced against it but grabbed his jacket in both hands, balling your own fists into it to hold him firmly in place. Jerking him forward until you were nose to nose, breath and blood mixing, you growled, “We will find him, Dean. But not if you kill yourself first.”

“Y-you sound like him,” His voice cracked and his head fell to your shoulder. You could feel his tears, hot on your frozen skin. This world was so cold and it never ceased to amaze you how he kept his warmth. You held him tightly, even as his knees buckled and swayed. By the state of those green eyes, you could see resignation and defeat creeping up on him. 

You shared a look with Benny, and he knew, too. “I’ll keep watch. You make him rest, cher.” You’d come to learn that Benny preferred to keep watch from all the years he’d had to watch his own backside here. You’d survived in hiding, while he’d made a name for himself—a killer, like Dean (not that either of them ever wanted to be.) You had to give it to him, though. After all, you’d tried to fight off everything in the beginning, but it was too tiring, like living was. So instead, you learned to thrive in shadows and whispers, moving like a ghost through whispers of the trees.

You were grateful for the moment alone with the warm beacon of a man, though. If the electricity across your skin anytime you touched the human indicated anything, it was a confirmation of your heart’s longing. You kept him pulled flush against your chest, his heartbeat so strong that it reverberated through your body. You focused on the feeling. How many centuries had it been since you felt your own beating? Dean’s was so strong it could surely support you both, you thought.

With a groan, Dean pulled the two of you down into a horizontal heap. You couldn’t make out the details of his face in the dark abyss of night, but his heart rate had shifted notably, along with his breathing. His anguish was palpable and you couldn’t help but to take some of it on as your own. He exuded it, it leaked from every pore. 

Supple lips brushed against yours, and you closed your eyes, slowly guiding one hand to his back above you and the other through his hair. It was as soft and silky as you’d hoped it was. You pulled just slightly, allowing your nails to gently spread and retract in circular motions. Dean clenched, the softest sounds carrying on the thick night air. Smiling at the reaction, you carded through the messy spikes and repeated the measure for several moments before Dean crashed into you, with his sudden need matching yours. Every kiss grew deeper, longer, and your tongues began to wrestle gently but urgently between locked lips. He grabbed at you hungrily with a certain ease, unable to hold back anymore, with palms stroking openly up and down your torso, until they slipped below your core.

You both pushed and pulled, wallowed and rolled, careful of injuries but powerless to pull away, fighting to get closer. You helped him slip from his leather jacket, and he groaned into your mouth with a tantalising mixture of pain and pleasure. The sound made you shiver, and you hastily removed yourselves from worn and tattered pants, breaking only for a moment. 

“Shh, Dean,” you whispered next to his ear. He nodded, understanding that even in this embrace, you were exposed and hunted. But with skin on skin, it was difficult to keep logic and sanity at the forefront of your mind. 

Dean slowed his pace and shifted until you were straddling him. With a touch so light it tickled, he let his hands trace every angle of your body, until he felt the latest wound and drew back suddenly. 

“It’s okay,”  you breathed into his gaping mouth. 

“No, I-- I’m sorry.” His voice was feeble, desperate. 

Taking his hand in yours, you placed it back where it’d been. It was a small gesture, but the effect it had on Dean was profound. With both hands now, he clutched your sides so tightly, it sent swells of something delicious straight to your center, before rippling out to every nerve ending exposed to the cool air, and then some. 

Just as you began to give in, a rustle from only several feet away snapped you back to reality. You shot up upon bare feet, weapon already in your hand as you scanned the malevolent shadows for the source, listening and feeling for any shift in the air. Dean lay frozen by your feet, head still spinning in weakness and lust.

In a swift turn on the balls of your feet, you faced the intruder, ready for war. 

“It’s just me, cher. I heard something and wanted to make sure you two were okay.” As Benny took in the situation, he laughed softly. “Sorry to interrupt. I’ll be over there…”

With an annoyed frown, you allowed your stance to go slack. “Thanks.”

Dean touched your leg, leaning in to kiss it lightly before planting a little nibble at your ankle. You slipped back down next to him, gasping when he quickly found your neck and nipped along your clavicle to the sweet spot in the hollow of your neck.

He was shaking slightly under the strain, but lifted himself atop you. To help keep him steady, you placed your hands on his shoulders and wrapped your legs around his torso. With a grateful kiss, he traced his tongue across your bottom lips as he lined himself at your entrance. 

His tip sank into your soaked folds and his resulting keen made you tremble beneath him, itching for more. “Dean, p-please…”

“What do you want?”

You rotated your hips against his, fighting to make him move. “Please, fuck… Dean I need you. Need more.”

Your begging tore his resolve to shreds and he sunk into you, stretching and filling you like nothing ever before. Your back arched at the sensations as they nearly overwhelmed you, drowning out the hell around you and leaving only Dean. Your heavy breathing barely registered as you whined his name. A shallow shriek betrayed you. Dean placed a calloused hand over your mouth, and it only drove you more mad. 

As he bottomed out and began short but powerful thrusts, tears gathered at the edges of your eyes. Everytime, he hit that sweet spot. Everytime, you whimpered into his hand and dug your fingers into his flesh tighter. Everytime, he moaned in response. 

It wasn’t long before those slow, drawn out jolts coiled you so tight you could barely contain yourself. Dean could sense the change as you began to rub against him, allowing the friction to take you over the edge. Right as you fell off into a fierce and roiling sea of ecstasy, Dean replaced his hand over your mouth with his own, swallowing your choppy breaths as you twitched and spasmed beneath him. 

Still lost in the swell, you felt the hunter release and fall, spent, onto your chest. You managed to wrap your arms around him and held him steadfastly, not ready to let go. It was incredible to watch Dean unravel and relax for the first time. In fact, it’d just become your favorite drug. 

Unknown to the broken lovers, a pair of “gorilla-wolves” attempted to interrupt throughout the steamy romp in the leaves, but Benny quickly took care of them. The nasty things wouldn’t have gotten as close as they had, but the vampire had been distracted by the sinfully delicious sounds coming from the far side of the tree. He’d tried to ignore it at first but found his mind wandering. It’d been ages since he’d felt the touch of another being, and the want rose up in him, a fire in his stomach.

You panted next to Dean when he rolled to the side, your injuries far from mind in the lasting rapture from being one with the human. His breathing was still ragged, but slowing. The wound on the back of his shoulder had reopened. Begrudgingly , he let you patch it again. Once dressed, you fell back to the sorry bed of leaves. Dean nuzzled into your side and let out a pained sigh as sleep found him. You could’ve sworn you heard the faintest “Don’t let me die here…” fall from his lips. Your grip on him tightened. You’d get him out if it killed you. But first, you had to find that elusive angel.

It was another month of the same routine. Days and nights ran together. The closer you got to the angel, the denser the swarm of monsters was. Even Benny seemed to be on his last leg. You offered to keep watch this time. At first Benny protested, but you shut him down.

“It’s broad daylight out here. I can see them coming from far enough off, I can give you plenty of time to wake up and fight if I can’t handle it. Don’t worry.”

He didn’t feel like protesting too much, and finally nodded, sad blue eyes locking on yours in a silent promise of trust in comradery.

A few hours passed, and you stood to stretch. A twig snapped behind you, and you twirled quickly, your knife to Benny’s throat. His hands raised. “Sorry cher, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Nearly lost your fool head. Why aren’t you resting?” You dropped your arms and stood next to the vampire, staring out through the forest again, scanning. Listening.

“I rested enough.”

“Right, that’s why you have to use that tree to support yourself.” His lips pressed into a hard smile, electric eyes dropping to the ground. When he looked back up, something in them had changed. He reached towards you, hesitant, and brushed the wavy mess of hair from your face behind your ear, hand gently gliding across your jaw until his thumb rested on your lip.

You closed your eyes and shuddered under the vampire’s touch. It was more familiar than Dean’s. You leaned into it, following as it guided you into his embrace. He was larger than Dean and still smelled of the swamp and sea. The scent was intoxicating, dragging all of your attention to Benny. 

He pulled back for a moment and cradled your face in the large, thick hands of a sailor. “You okay with this? Don’t want you to feel pressured, darlin’.”

“Mm not pressured,” you smiled up into those spirited sharp blue eyes. You lost yourself in them, completely ensnared. You could see past them, to cerulean glittering waters, could feel the lapping of them against your old boat, hear the seagulls and crows chattering as they glided on heatwaves, taste the salt on your tongue. 

You stretched up on your tiptoes, craning to taste the salt on his lips, feel the waves in the way his tongue twists. Benny must have felt the same, as he met your parted lips in a feverish kiss, maneuvering you effortlessly between himself and the tree for support until he was rutting into you.

The touch was bittersweet and starved, driving both of you as you stripped away layers. Benny pressed into you until the bark bit into your back and arms. You knocked the hat from atop his head to get closer, to guide him in, and he responded by taking the thin flesh of your neck into his mouth. Fangs drug thin scratch lines over your chest and shoulders, followed by sucking kisses. Benny grunted as he settled next to your ear, the growing bulge in his remaining trousers becoming almost painful in the restriction. 

Sensing this, you moved to loosen the last piece of his clothing until it slumped to his ankles, all the while raw, needy noises spilled from your mouth. If only you’d found each other topside, things would have been better. You wouldn’t have let that young, long-haired hunter boy and his grumpy father kill you.

In one smooth move, Benny hooked his fingers into your jeans and slid them off, until you were completely free of them. With lust in your eyes, you found his full lips once more. You bit and sucked at his bottom lip until he was throbbing against you and whispering your name in short breaths in desperation. 

With a slight adjustment in position, he grabbed your ribcage and lifted you just enough to line himself at your entrance. Hungrily, you raised your knees and rested them on his sides. You dug your nails into his shoulders in anticipation, but he didn’t keep you waiting long. With a final shift of his angle, Benny slid into you unrestrained.

His pace was unforgiving. He was rougher, more desperate, yet somehow more controlled than Dean. Pain was something you both knew too well, and found pleasure in at this moment. Neither of you had to hold back in fear of hurting the other. 

Benny muttered a long string of praises as he placed his cheek on yours and relished in the fragmented breaths and mewls leaking from your gaping mouth.

Between the friction to your front and the sharp ache in your back, the intense set of his pace brought unwanted tears to the corners of your eyes. Before you knew it, he had you biting back a scream as you came in his arms, your back digging into the tree as he held you through it. You sank your teeth into his neck, drawing blood and pushing back the sharper set as they threatened to emerge. He snarled into your ear and released, standing for a moment, relishing in your closeness.

For a time, you just remained in that position as he softened inside you, foreheads resting fondly on each other.

Dean stirred, grumbling as he woke. With a silently shared promise to continue the embrace another day, the two of you straightened yourselves back out and rounded the tree to greet the sleep-starved human.

Over the next two weeks, the three of you grew much closer. Sometimes in between attacks, you took solace in each other. Most times it was talk, but when words were too difficult and your bodies needed to feel something… else, something primal and good and pure, they would pass you between them, never straying too far.

Benny's eyes would always drift and land upon Deans. It intoxicated him, pulled at his heart in ways that tore him apart. Deep green eyes, full of hope and goodness and humanity… something fragile yet unbreakable, much like what he once saw in Andrea’s. Just like Andrea’s. As much as he tried to put her memory to rest, Dean’s gaze would always take his breath, whether they were fighting or fucking, and the feelings that washed over Benny were wild and raw.

You ventured off to scout ahead one day, leaving Benny to help Dean walk after a surprise run in with a gorilla wolf didn’t fare so well. Those things sure liked Dean. Could you blame them? As you cleared the spaces ahead, you reminisced on the first time it happened. 

It’d started innocently enough, some kissing and tender touches traded between you and Dean. You craved comfort, and his touch never disappointed. The fading daylight illuminated something… different, something new in his eyes. There was a spark of acceptance? Resignation? You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but for some reason the usually tightly wound hunter was relaxed. His movements were delicate and slow, a stark contrast to the usual quickie on the run. 

You nearly lost your balance when he stripped your pants away and traced deliberate sucking kisses down to your sweet spot. You’d had to catch yourself from falling over at the heady sensations, threading your hands into his hair and holding on for dear life (or death.) Within moments, Benny swooped in to support you from behind, snaking a strong arm around your stomach as Dean began to lick and hum and stroke you in ways you’d never felt. Your blood burned like fire, causing every inch of your skin to become more sensitive. 

Benny brushed the hair from your shoulder with his free hand, then took a fistful of it and guided your head back. With a contented sigh, he took your exposed neck into his mouth and you twitched violently between the shivers running down and the heat rising up. The contrast of Dean’s soft lips to the burn of his stubble mirrored that of the rough, blood soaked fabric of Benny’s jacket against the smooth of your skin… and it drove you mad. Your vision swelled with every wave and the sounds of the cursed world around you faded as if cotton had been shoved in your ears. 

Your legs gave way and you fell into Dean’s lap as he chuckled, watching you come undone. The orgasm hit you somewhere along the way down, untouched but wound so tightly that you couldn’t hold out another moment.

While you writhed against him, Dean held you securely to his chest with arms that crushed into your ribs and pinned your arms to your sides. Your head finally came to rest upon his shoulder, and as your senses eased back into focus, you realized that you were completely laid down upon his bare chest. Still buzzing from the high, you nuzzled into the crook of his neck and laid a small peck. Dean’s resulting smile stretched wide, and you could feel it there without even needing to see it. 

“You okay, baby?” Dean gently stroked your back up and down with one hand, and moved to tangle strong fingers in your hair to hold the base of your head tenderly with the other. 

When you found your voice, you muttered a small, “yeah, thank you.”

Benny kneeled beside you and lowered his face until your foreheads met, the three of you so impossibly close. “You up for some more, sugar?”

You smiled wryly and closed your eyes. “Yeah, I’m all yours.”

Though your limbs were but heavy gelatin, you managed to lift out of your shirt as the men undressed. Pulling Dean’s discarded coat over you like a blanket, you rested against a fallen tree and admired them. Dean was more slender, but faster and stronger. The way his muscles rippled and creased beneath pale, freckled skin reminded you of a swimmer--all lean and mean. He was graceful in every movement, like a dancer. Benny was a little more solid, built like a tank. Maybe he wasn’t as fast, but there was no going through him. You’d seen beasts hit him straight on with full power, and the vampire had barely flinched. Those fists could break anything, but his face was always… soft. Kind. Dean’s was hardened, but you couldn’t blame him. And yes, there were moments, like this, where the lines of his face smoothed, and some color returned to his cheeks. 

How you’d ever found Heaven in this Hell, you’d never come to understand. But you were ever grateful. Hopeful for a future with them topside, however it may go. 

Dean’s outstretched hand pulled you from your daydream. You took it, letting the jacket go as he helped you stand. As you stood, he continued to pull you forward until you were flush with him. He pressed a firm kiss to your scalp and rubbed his palms up and down your body. His cock twitched against your belly, and you wrapped your arms around him, squeezing just a little tighter at the new flood of arousal. 

Benny snaked his arms around you from behind, until his hands rested on your neck, not gripping, but just *there.* The weight of them naturally guided your head to fall back against his chest. He growled into your ear, “You’re so fucking beautiful. So good for us, cher.”

Your mouth fell agape and released a strangled moan as Dean kissed along your exposed neck and mumbled a steady stream of “You’re such a good girl for us, such a good fighter, a great companion.” 

With every word, a new fire raged through your veins. Your face burned hot. Dean’s hands wandered south, caressing every inch passionately. One hand found its home grasping your thigh right under your ass, and the other came to rest in your dripping folds. You bucked against the touch and right into Benny’s length resting between your cheeks. 

You whimpered, needing more, needing release. “D-Dean please, fuck. I need you. I want you inside me, please--unnghh.”

Dean teased your entrance for a moment more before the wrecked look on your face and the subtle, high pitched sounds spilling from you completely enraptured him. Benny nodded, moving his hands to steady your sides as you squirmed uncontrollably. With a swift movement, you were raised up with both of Dean’s hands cupping and spreading your ass until he lined up at your folds and let you sink down much too slowly. 

Pathetic cries filled the air as you struggled to maintain control, the stretch of him almost too much to handle and not nearly enough all at once. You shook and grabbed at anything you could hold with a flutter in your chest that threatened to make you implode. And yet, the intense feelings only grew. Benny planted himself and anchored with a strong arm outstretched and clutching to Dean’s shoulder. 

Dean bit his lip fiercely and let out a pained groan at the other man’s unyielding hold on him. His cock twitched again as he bottomed out deep inside you. The depth burned and ached, and with it your eyes came to focus on Dean’s. 

The emerald green was more prominent now, outlined by the hot blush beneath a spray of freckles. His brows were drawn tightly and jaw slack, full, pink lips parted in bliss. His breathing was erratic, and with every intake of cool evening air, Dean trembled. 

You mewled and whined, shifted against them, desperate for friction. The slightest broken smile graced the hunter’s face and he nodded, knowing but not yet ready. 

Tears already began to gather as you fought the urge to physically fight the men into submission, to finally scratch that itch. Benny didn’t leave you waiting much longer though, before he was slipping and pushing into place in your ass. The deliberate burn of him spreading you open opposite Dean left you thrashing between them. 

Dean took a deep breath in as a reminder for you to do the same. If it weren’t for him grounding you and helping you through, the black void would’ve already sucked you in as another victim. You did your best to relax and bore down, allowing Benny to fill your other hole completely to his base. 

The vampire grimaced through his own keening, the tightness of you nearly sending him over the edge right there and then. You stilled between them, already on the verge of destruction as the three of you adjusted to the new feelings washing over you in waves. 

Dean’s lips found yours, open and wanting. Taking his tongue hungrily into your mouth, you sucked and fell absolutely limp as he sucked your lower lip between his. The scent of him was utterly intoxicating, and you were ready once more. 

Benny began to move in tandem with Dean. With every movement of the both of them against your thin membrane, a wailing cry seeped between your clenched teeth. Benny was now clutching both of Dean’s shoulders so tightly that were white bloodless patches beneath each of his fingertips. This made Dean buck harder until the hunter’s eyes shut tightly and left his head bobbing backwards in lust. 

The symphony of your cries was lost beneath those of the two men, who shuddered and swayed. The sweet, sinful music flooded your mind and sent you reeling over the edge once more, clenching and swearing and falling against Benny’s outstretched arm. 

Dean’s thrusts faltered as his stuttered, “I’m.. I’m about to--”

“Just let go, brother,” Benny encouraged. 

It was the only confirmation Dean needed before his load spilled into you, sending renewed longing to your stomach as he pulsed inside you. “Fuck Dean,.. You feel so good,” you managed.

Benny came seconds later, and you relished in the full warmth of them. 

You smiled to yourself as the familiar electricity flooded your veins and leaked to your core. It may have been the first time, but every time since had only been… better. Impossibly, incredibly better. 

Upon your return, you noticed that Dean had found new strength.

“We’re closer than ever to Cas, he’s three days away by the river. We’re almost done! We can go home!” Dean was grinning widely, a spark finally back in his tired eyes.

You smiled, scooping him into a rough embrace. If Dean was happy, you were happy. Benny joined you in the bear hug. You were so ready to be topside again, and now, it was so close you could just taste it.

Your second chance.

With a start, Benny hollered and let go, leaving Dean tense and alert in your arms. Then, he threw you to the side as a beast attacked. Its whole face morphed into a shark-tooth ringed mouth, and you grimaced.

Leviathan. You must’ve been really close to that angel.

You drew your weapon as one engaged you, swung and lopped its head off easily after years of practice, until something glinting and sharp emerged where it should not have been.

You looked down, the blade bloodied and protruding through your chest, through your lungs. Unable to draw a breath, you fell to your knees.

“No!” Both Benny and Dean were yelling, voices echoing through the hostile forest. Black ooze covered them from the slain monsters. You looked up as your assailant withdrew the sizable knife from your back and placed it against your neck. It was another vampire. You looked back to the boys.

“You killed our sister, so now we’re gonna kill yours,” the voice behind you teased in a sing-songy tone. More boots shuffled into your line of view.

Benny looked absolutely broken as he charged, extra teeth bared sharply in defiance. Dean bounded to you, holding your gaze with those emerald green eyes as he expertly dodged the advances of his adversaries.

Once again, your breath was seized and you relaxed your tense muscles. If this was finally what wiped you into oblivion, it would be okay, as long as you could stare into the comforting depths of that hunter’s eyes. After all, you were tired of fighting…This would finally be the end of the suffering. To oblivion. The warmth from Dean’s soul flooded over you as he got closer, but it was too late.

Your head rolled from your body. 

Dean decimated the group of vampires in record time, the rage fully restored and urging his body forward against all odds. Once again, the hunter had become more vicious than any monster in the land. In two days, he would limp to the river and find his angel.

You, however, woke on the other side of Purgatory. Oblivion was not something that would ever come for you. There would never be a release. Despair, overcoming any hope you ever had, creeped its dark tendrils through your entire being and swiped your feet from underneath you. So that’s what happens to monsters who die in monster heaven… they get respawned and zapped to another part. Great. You were stuck in hell, too far away now to reach them in time. One day you would find a way out. You had to. But first, you would have to find the strength. Strength you may never have again. You curled into a ball, mind silent as you gave into the feeling, a single, small tear streaking a thin line from your eye into the dust. 

You were alone. Again. 

Your second chance gone along with the human and his friends.

 This was my second attempt at writing smut and maybe I got carried away??

WAYWARD PEEPS:

@carryonmywaywardcaptain​ @manawhaat @supernatural-jackles​ @jensen-jarpad @wheresthekillswitch​ @bummblebeeblue @nothin-after-79-blog​ @docharleythegeekqueen @fangirl-writing-fiction @inmysparetime0​ @impala-dreamer​ @arryn-nyxx​ @idk-life01 @attorneyl​ @deathtonormalcy56​ @xwing-baby​ @wonder-cole​ @itsangelpie-supports​ @thinkinghardhardlythinkingogblog​@icecream-and-gadreel

ANGST BABES:

@trexrambling​ @abbessolute @emptywithout​

ALL ABOUT THAT DEAN:

@akshi8278​ @will-winchester

[a-copper-butterfly]

Battle of the Blades

I did a thing. 

this was inspired by the wonderful @lumosinlove. this is a Coops fic with background Cubs. baciscly Ice Hockey + Figure Skating = profit. im not sure if i will continue this, i have put it under the line as it a little spicy!!!

There is a mark on the ceiling. Remus let the thought float through his mind. It was early in the morning, the open window letting the fresh summer air in as his boyfriend tried to chew a hole in his neck.

Sirius was a comforting weight over his chest as he slowly ground his hips into his abdomen. He wasn’t completely hard, if he was honest, his body was still half asleep. It wasn’t the first time he had woken up with his boyfriend on top of him. It seemed to be part of their daily routine now.

Wake up. Turn off the alarm. Get Sirius off. Shower. Peanut butter on toast. Out the door to practice.

Remus smiled, pulling his hand out of Sirius’ hair. He admired the silver and gold ring on his left hand. Not boyfriend, fiancé.

He gasped when Sirius found that wonderful spot just under his ear, his morning scruff rubbing along his jaw.

With a gentle tug on his hair, Sirius pulled back. Remus gave him a push and Sirius gladly rolled onto his back, pulling Remus with him. He straddled Sirius’ stomach as he leant down, bracing his elbows on either side of his face. He kissed Sirius deeply, taking his time to count all his teeth and stroking his tongue with his own. Sirius’ hands made their way down his back. One reaching down to grab at his ass, while the other traced the three moles that lined his tail bone. The familiarity of the touch made Remus smile, breaking the kiss.

“We have practice.” Remus murmured into Sirius’ mouth, his voice husky. Sirius growled as Remus sucked his earlobe into his mouth, tracing its outline with his tongue. Both Sirius' hands grabbed at his thighs as he rutted up into the crevice of Remus' ass, head turned to the side to give him more access to his neck. Remus ghosted his lips down the strip of sensitive skin. Sirius closed his eyes and sighed waiting for Remus lips to settle on a spot.

Remus grinned and sat up. He patted Sirius on the hip and slid off his lap to get out of bed. Sirius whined again rolling after his deserting fiancé. He ended up spread across their king sized bed like some sort of renaissance painting on the origin of man - all he was lacking was a neatly placed fig leaf.

“Come on get up,” Remus pulled open his wardrobe, picking out clothes for the day. He also pulled out clothes for Sirius too, throwing them on the disgruntled man.

“Mon Loup come back to bed,” Sirius’ use of his deep sexy bed room voice nearly got Remus to crack but after taking a moment to catch his breath, he diligently found clean underwear for both of them, steering clear of grabby hands.

“Nope,” Remus stretched out his back, causing Sirius to make a dog-like noise behind him, “but if you’re quick, you can join me in the shower.” 

He tossed a wink over his shoulder to the other man, who almost injured himself trying to rip the bedsheets off his legs.

 Remus held Sirius’ coffee as he tried to get his kit bag to sit right on his back. They began to walk away from the car, Remus handing the cup over when Sirius had stopped fussing. Kit bag over his back, and one hand holding his drink, the other loosely linked his free hand with Remus’. 

As they made their way to the engraved, Remus noticed there were more reporters outside milling about than normal. Remus took a sip of his coffee as Sirius scanned them in watching the vulchers snapping photos of them.

As Remus laced his skates in the locker room, he felt a hand on his shoulder. He frowned as he looked up, “Coach?”

“Can I talk to you for a minute?”

Oh goodness. What had he done? Coach never pulled him over, he was a model player. Always on time, never late, out on the ice and running drills while the rest of them fought over water bottles.

Remus nodded, following Coach into one of the small meeting rooms just off the side of the rink. Coach dropped into a seat, gesturing for Remus to do the same. He had to focus on his breathing, his mind running through hundreds of reasons why Coach would want to talk to him. They all had similar themes, mainly revolving around the League reconsidering Remus’ place on the team. His PT job had already been filled so that wasn't available for him to go back to. He was going to walk out of this room with no job and no team. His mind was taken back to memories of walking out a similar room years ago after the incident. He felt a pit open in his stomach, his brain starting to white out. It was only when Leo dropped into the chair next to him that he let out the breath he was holding, noticing Finn and Logan messing about by the door. 

It was like whiplash. One moment he was panicking over whether he would have a job at the end of the day. The next Leo was Complaining about having a sore back. Coach sat up in his chair waiting for the last two players to join the meeting. 

“So the lions have been very popular lately.” he said, taking his glasses off and cleaning them with the side of his shirt. 

“Woo Loops!” Finn clapped him on the shoulder. Remus was still reeling so could only give a cracked smile in reply. “Shut up.” Coach called in the tone of someone who was used to being ignored.

So im assuming non of you mutton heads have seem battle of the blades.

“I love that show.” Finn sat up taking interest in the conversation. 

“Why did I know you where going to say that?” Coach muttered to himself. he rubbed his faces before going back to business,

“Look the league has asked that we send some of the team to the show bringing some of this media attention.” He leaned forward on his elbows looking over the four men at the table “We also want to separate you form Siriues.” he paused on Remus looking him in the eye. Remus frowned not really understanding what Coach was saying. Why would they want to separate him and Sirius. Unless they where trying to force them apart,

“What.” he asked, eyes beginning to widen, they couldn't separate them, could they?

“Not like that.” Coach pacified the frantic thoughts bouncing around in his head. He held his hand out in an attempt to calm the ex-PT, “not like that. But you are seen as part of him. You are a brilliant player on your own Remus we just need the public to see you not just The Caps Boyfriend.” 

“Fiancé.” Remus muttered like an after thought as he chewed over what Coach had said. He was still struggling to throw off the hot-guy-on-the-bench name. People did just see him as Sirius’ other half - they had been called up on favouritism more times than he can count. 

“Fiancé, I mean.” Coach corrected himself, watching Remus as he thought.

“Fine.” Remus huffed leaning back in his chair finally shaking the panic off from earlier, “but if you wanted to pull attention away fromyour gay players you could have picked something with less spandex and glitter.” Logan and Finn bursted into giggles as Leo gave him a gentle tap on the arm.

 Sirius glided up to the boards where Remus was pulling his blade covers off his skates. He had finished his warm ups a while ago but was waiting for Remus to get out of his meeting just in case he was needed.

“What was that about Rem?” he asked, letting his skates clunk against the boards. Remus looked over at his fiancé. He opened his mouth to reply, only to be drowned out by the Cubs’ cheers. Finn leaped over the boards, swiftly followed by Leo and Logan.

“WE ARE GOING TO BE ICE DANCERS!” was bellowed across the ice. Coach dropped down on the bench next to the new PT shaking his head; from his expression, Remus could tell he was already regretting his decisions. Finn began to sing a butchered version of “Time Of My Life” from Dirty Dancing, skating about before shouting at Leo to catch him. 

“What he said,” Remus blinked at Sirius.

Coach put an end to the impromptu dance recital with a shout to get back to warm ups. Sirius started practicing controlling the puck as Remus dropped down into his stretches.

After stretching, Remus and Sirius passed the puck between them as they talked.

“Are you going to be in one of those tight leotards Mon Loup?” whispered as he circled around Remus before passing the puck.

“God I hope not.” he muttered taking a shot at the open goal. It went in, of course, and Sirius fetched a new puck.

“You’re no fun, but it will be nice to cheer for you on the other side of the glass for once.” he paused leaning on his stick, “that and everyone can see how good you are on skates.”

“That was what coach said,” Remus watched him tap the puck about, admiring the way he handled it so skillfully.

Sirius paused, looking up at Remus with a frown. “That you look good on skates?”

“No,” he said with a laugh, “that people only see me through you. That I need to make a name for myself outside of our relationship.”

“That is a good point.” they had stopped what they were doing now, just sliding closer on the ice, as if there really was a magnetic pull between them.

“I’m not sure Pads,” Remus murmured, taking hold of one of Sirius' gloved hands, “I will go from the player who is the captain's husband to the player that was on that dancing show once.�� Fire danced in Sirius' eyes. A quick tug on the hand and Remus was in his space.

“Say it again.” he ordered, prompting Remus’ eyes to light up like Sirius’.

“The captain's husband,” he whispered as husky as he could, leaning in towards Sirius. 

Before it could get any more heated, though, James zipped by, yelling at them to get a room before they melted the ice.

“As much as I love you saying that, this will give you the spotlight for a bit.” Sirius located the abandoned puck and they went back to passing it to and fro. “Enough time for everyone to fall in love with you like I did.” Remus smiled at his fiancé, watching him shift as he took the shot at the goal.

“You’re such a sap,” he pulled him in quickly for a light peck on the lips.

“I love you,” Sirius said, chasing after more kisses.

“I love you too. But I will love you more if you can do all these drills perfectly.” 

 Sirius’ thighs burned, this was so much better than doing squats. Probably better for you too. It worked more on his quads than his calves. The view wasn’t too bad either.

Remus was flushed down to his nipples; his head was thrown back, showing off a long pale neck that was just begging to be marked. His hips twitched and thrusted when Sirius sank back down onto him. His fiancé was panting hard, elbows digging into the bed as both hands gripped Sirius’. He held on so tight, as if letting go would shatter him into a million pieces.

Sirius gasped, sinking down again onto Remus’ cock. He was leaking like a tap, making a mess of Remus’ lower chest and stomach. Remus flexed his shoulders; the new muscles he had gained during his training made for a lovely sight.

“Are you gonna cum love?” Sirius murmured lowly, prompting Remus to make an incredibly sexual noise. His eyes, blown wide with arousal, caught Sirius’ as he sank down. Sirius gyrated his hips, massaging his prostate slowly. His eyes began to droop but he determinedly held eye contact. Remus just groaned again,“use your words.” Sirius ordered.

“Am I allowed to?” Remus’ voice was by far the sexiest thing Sirius had ever heard. It was deep and husky. He basked in the moment, letting his eyes close as he bobbed up and down. He then looked right back at Remus. 

“You have to make me first,” Sirius smirked but his cockiness was quickly knocked out of him when Remus flipped them over.

Now, with his legs wrapped around Remus' waist, the angle stabbed at his prostate perfectly.

“Yes!” Sirius hissed at the sudden stimulation. Remus pinned his hands above his head as he rocked into him. Sirius‘ eyes rolled to the back of his head as Remus set a punishing pace.

It didn’t take long for both of them to cum after that. They were both reduced to a sweaty, sticky, panting mess. They refused to stop kissing, even as they struggled to catch their breath.

When everything started to get uncomfortable, Remus reluctantly pulled away. He rose on wobbly legs to fetch a washcloth.

“I can't believe you will be gone for two months tommorow.” the sound of running water came from the bathroom.

“It’s six weeks, baby, not eight.” was Remus’ reply. It echoed slightly off the tiled walls. Sirius rolled over onto his stomach, chin pillowed in his hands.

“Feels like eight,” he grumbled. Remus walked back in on more stable legs. The wash cloth was warm as Remus gently swiped over Sirius. He smiled to himself and let his eyes close as his fiancé took care of him.

“It’s not that long.” Remus comforted him, depositing the cloth in the laundry basket and crawling back up the bed. He lay down next to him, pushing a hand through Sirius’ hair. “I will probably be out in the first round anyway, so in reality it will only be two weeks.”

“Don’t put your self down like that,” Sirius snuggled closer, tucking his head against Remus’ neck; he could smell the sex they had just had on his skin. It pleased a possessive part of himself that he didn’t like to think about too much.

“Do you think this is a mistake Pads?” Remus whispered, pulling Sirius closer to him, “if I ask Coach he might be able to get me out of this.”

“Rem, you’re going to be great. My gut says so.” Remus laughed.

“Well as long as your gut says so who am I to question it.” Sirius smiled into his neck, kicking the bed quilt till it covered just their legs; it was too hot to have it over them. He closed his eyes to sleep.

 Remus stood with the three cubs behind him, trying to remember the kisses Sirius had covered him with before he got on the plane. 

They were all in their hockey gear, Logan in all his pads being flanked on both sides by his boys.

To Remus’ left was Ivo Aleksandrov, a player for the Hufflepuff Badgers; he smiled and waved, but mostly kept to himself. He was spinning his stick around absentmindedly, leaning against the wall.

Lyuba Fedoroa was on his right from the Ravenclaw Ravens, her blue uniform picking out her piercing blue eyes. It may be that she was the only girl there but she had a firm air of don’t-touch-me about her. It was a run in with her that made the cubs use Remus as a defensive wall between them.

A scruffy looking guy with headphones and a clipboard was briefing them on what was about to happen.

“So when your name is called, skate to the spot on the ice. Let’s get the crowd hyped, alright? Wave your stick, whatever you want. The presenters are going to chat about you for a bit, then your partner will be called onto the rink. They will do a bit of a show for the audience, then you both skate to center ice. Greet each other and then head over to the presenters who will chat with you a bit. Please for the love of god try not to drop the F bomb.” The man looked like he did this every year and every year he was ignored.

“No swearing? Do you know who we are?!” Finn chucked, getting an elbow from Logan. The man just leveled him with a stare before making a note on his clipboard.

“Well are we ready?” he asked, looking around the group. He was answered with a series of murmured affirmatives before nodding and walking away. He managed to vanish in the mass of cameras and tech crew. Remus turned his attention to the small screen that showed the presenter talking about the last year on the show. showing clips of best bits and biggest falls. It was slightly comforting that falls where expected.

Behind him, he could hear the cubs whispering to each other. Logan seemed a little nervous whereas Finn was practically vibrating out with excitement. Leo was comforting Logan, tapping his glove quietly. They used the excuse that all six of them were crushed together against the boards, to stand close together. Remus, though, noticed that the slight brushes and bumps were not just from the small space. He was glad that the outsiders were on his other side. He was more than a metaphorical wall between their relationship and the outside world at the moment.

The headphones guy was back and standing at the gate to the ices. The high glass walls had been blacked out, to stop people seeing who was about to appear on the ice. It was unnerving being able to smell the cold, feel it on his face and hear the slashing of ice skates but not see the ice at all.

Headphones guy beckoned Ivo over, looking down at his list and saying something to him. He got a nod in response.

The presenters were gearing up to introduce this year’s skaters, so Ivo was probably going first. 

Well, thought Remus, here goes nothing.

Why was he always last? Finn had just skated out to a cheering crowd. He had really riled them up, taking a moment to skate around waving. The presenters had lapped it up, gushing about how adorable he was. Remus could see Finn quickly becoming a crowd favorite. He had met up with his dance partner, a small thing with beautifully dark skin. Her hair was neatly pinned on the top of her head in a bun. She had laughed at Finn’s antics taking his arm and pulling him off the ice to the presenters.

Finally, Headphone guy waved him over. Suddenly Remus felt his heart in his throat. Even stepping back onto the ice for his first game had not scared him as much as having to step out now. He reasoned it could have been that he had the team before. Now he had to do this alone. 

Well he had the cubs. He just had to make it through the next five minutes. 

As Headphones guy gave him a pat on the back, he realized that his name had just been called. He stepped out onto the ice and was instantly blinded. There was a spotlight on him. He pushed away from the boards to the spot that he had been told to stand on. He could hear the crowd, but the bright light meant that he couldn't see them. They cheered and he stood frozen for a moment, then he raised his stick in the air. The only thing he could think of to do. The crowd cheered louder. 

Remus smiled. He could hear the announcer talk him up for a few moments.

“Dancing with Lupin this year is three time Grand Prix Champion, our very own Princess BubbleGum! Nymphadora Tonks!” 

Across the ice the gate opened a flash of pink darted out. Dressed in a grey outfit, a pink haired young lady zipped around in an ark on the ice. As she reached the center of the circle she lifted one leg and moved her other skate in a odd way. Pushing off with one foot she jumped and span getting a roar form the crowed when she landed it. Remus got a good look at her bright mischievous smile. 

Suddenly that smile was skating very quickly towards him. Not knowing what else to do he dropped his stick and caught the tiny skater who laughed loudly at him wrapping her legs around his waist letting go with her arms waving them above her head, forcing Remus to hold her up. She was laughing her head off as he set her back on the ice. Around them the crowed was ecstatic. Smiling as best he could without showing how freaked out he was Remus took Nymphadora arm and they skated towards the presenters.

[snowdice]

Goblin Brain Study Session Fic 1 [Day 58]

Because I don’t want to just have walls of text for my Goblin Brain Study Session posts, I’m separating them by days. If you want to read the previous chapters, click the links below. Chapter 23 and what’s done of chapter 24 is under the cut.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 My Master Post

See this post for more details and feel free to send me asks to keep me going! It’s been a lot of fun so far! I will reblog this post with the story as I write them today. Also, if you’re interesting, don’t forget that I am constantly updating the timeline as I write. :)

Okay, I’m still not feeling 100%, but lets see how much I can do today. :)

Chapter 23

“Would anyone care to explain themselves?” Logan asked the room filled with the most frustrating human being he’d ever met. He must have infused his voice with the desired amount of ire, because everyone in the room seemed to wince simultaneously except…

“No thanks!” Remus chirped. Logan shot him a tired look and stepped forward. “Wait! Dad! No!” Logan swiftly put him in a headlock.

“We’re going downstairs,” he told the others. His son was a bit wiggly when Logan started to pull him towards the elevator in the other room, but he didn’t actually put up much of a fight.

 He let Remus go when they got to the elevator. The elevator was small enough that they ended up taking it in two groups. Logan ended up in an elevator with Lena, his sons, and his brother.

There were a couple of moments of awkward elevator music. “I am very displeased with everyone in this elevator.”

No one responded but Patton who patted him on the shoulder. Logan turned on him. “You are at the pinnacle of my ire.”

There was a few seconds of drawn out silence, and then Patton removed his hand. “Wow,” he said after a moment. “You could hear a pen-acle drop.”

 “Kids, you no longer have an uncle,” Logan said coolly.

“That’s right,” Patton said with a smile despite the glare Logan was sending him. “You only have a puncle now.”

Roman snorted out a laugh but looked quickly away when Logan glared at him.

The elevator came to a stop and they climbed out of it. “You all go to the conference room while I wait for the rest. Except you,” he pointed at Lean. “Fred can debrief me. You go get that checked out.” She shot him a thumbs up (because apparently the lack of disrespect for his authority had rubbed off on her) and wandered off towards medical.

 “Um,” Roman said tentatively.

“Yes?” Logan asked, already even more tired.

“Also, Janus may or may not have a broken rib. At least he said he might have.”

“Why on Earth is he walking around, then?” Roman just shrugged in response to Logan’s question.

“And send someone down to look at his Janus,” he called after Lena right before she turned the corner. “Anything else pressing?” he asked the three still with him. “No? Then I’ll see you all in the conference room in a few minutes.”

“Conference room 16 or 17?” Remus asked.

“Remus, everyone here is aware that room 17 is a broom closet,” Logan said.

Remus sent him finger guns. “Conference room 17 it is,” he said turning to strut off down the hall. Roman shot Logan an awkward half smile before following after his brother, and Logan’s own brother jerked forward to smack his lips against Logan’s forehead before waltzing off after them.

Why was his family like this?

 He turned to wait for the elevator to go back up to the factory and down again. He crossed his arms as it arrived. “You’re injured?” Logan asked as the doors opened.

Most of the occupants looked confused, but Janus looked slightly annoyed. “Remus,” he muttered.

“Roman actually,” Logan corrected. “I’m having someone sent down to look at you.”

“I’m f-”

“Don’t even try to argue right now; your second on my list today.”

“Remus is first?” Janus asked.

“Of course, Remus is first.”

“Where am I on the shit list?” Remy asked with interest.

“Somehow, only 5th.”

“Score!”

“But you’re inexorably moving up.”

 “But I’m not in the top three.”

“No, my children and brother fill up the spots above you.”

“You said I was second,” Janus said with a frown.

“Yes,” Logan said. “Also, you’re grounded.” Then, he turned to walk towards the conference room.

“Wait, Logan, what does that mean?!” Janus asked his back.

“It means, Logan owes me a buttload of child support,” said Remy.

“I am not your kid. You are not my dad.”

“Sure, son.”

When Logan made it to the correct room, his family was already hard at work making his life a series of aggravations. Before even stepping into the room, he turned to the opposite side of the hallway and opened the door to the supply closet.

 “Get in the correct room before I make you get into the correct room,” Logan said.

“Come on dad, you know it’s not nice to force someone out of the closet.” On most days, Logan would not have found that at all funny, but today for some reason, it elicited a snort of surprised laughter. Remus smiled up at him from his seat on the floor like he always did when he’d done (or thought he’d done) something clever.

“Don’t,” Logan warned, wagging a finger at him. “Don’t. That doesn’t mean your forgiven. I am very, very unhappy with you.”

 Remus just kept grinning.

“I’m relieved that you are safe and happy to have you back with me,” Logan said, “but I am also very angry.”

“Eh, that’s fair.”

“Now get out of the closet.”

Remus found it fit to obey him for the moment, and stood, following him to the conference room where the others had gathered. Patton had somehow found a stack of name tags and a box of markers somewhere and had managed to convince Roman to help him draw little pictures on them along with the names. Patton stuck one with a broom drawn on it onto Remus when he came in.

 Remy and Fredrick were currently forcing Janus into a chair while Roman avoided the glare the injured man was sending at him, and Emile was talking quietly to Virgil.

“Okay,” Logan said. “Let’s start with the ones who haven’t started to explain yet. Roman?”

“My phone got broken probably somewhere between Janus tackling me and hitting me in the face.”

“Oh, is that why Dad texted me about where you were a thousand times?” Remus asked

“Yes,” Logan said, “and you said you didn’t know.”

“I didn’t say that actually.”

“Remus.”

“I was in the middle of something! …And then I forgot.”

 “And then it ended up in the bottom of a lake,” Roman said.

“And then it ended up in the bottom of a lake!” Remus agreed. “Along with Roman’s car and us for a minute.”

“You drove your car into a lake?” Logan asked Roman. “Is that why you are all wet?!”

“Yes, he did!” Remus said.

“Hey! No!” Roman said. “I managed to stop the car before it went into the lake. It’s not my fault the guys behind us aren’t as good drivers as me and slammed into us!”

“Roman destroyed another car!” Remus crooned. “What’s that? Three? And you say Janus is cursed!”

 “I take so responsibility for the Taurus or for this one!”

“Two’s a coincidence; three’s a pattern!” Remus sang joyfully.

Logan shook his head at them and chose to look over at Janus instead. “And you?” he asked. “You looked at your mission details and never responded.”

“You were trying to send me on a wild goose chase when my brother was missing!” He tried to stand up and Remy pushed him back down again.

“I was trying to get you in a controlled environment before telling you of the issues for fear you would overreact and do something careless if you found out on your own.”

 “I already knew,” Janus growled, “and that is not your call to make.”

Logan considered that. “Perhaps it wasn’t,” he agreed, “but you still should have attempted to communicate with me, at the very least so I would have known you were okay. For all I knew, Nelson had caught you in a lie and your cover had been blown.”

“It is blown,” Janus muttered. “I smashed her phone, blew up her car, and disobeyed her. She sent men to kill me.”

It was honestly a relief. Janus had been in danger constantly while being a double agent and he’d grown more than fond of the man in the last few years. Not having to play nice with Barbara all the time would do him some good.

“We’ll have to reassign you,” Logan said. “As well as Remus, and you’ll both need new permanent residences.”

“We already decided we’re getting an apartment together,” Remus said.

“You decided,” Janus said weakly, clearly not actually interested in protesting, but needing to keep up appearances.

“And we’re going to get a kitty.”

“Ah,” Logan said. “Well, in that case, I would highly suggest you verify it is in fact a ‘kitty’ before you allow it on the premises. I have made that mistake before.”

“You love Raphael,” Remus claimed.

“Possum,” Roman explained at Janus’s questioning look.

“In fact,” Logan said. “It may be advisable that Remington consider moving as well. Nelson very much knows where you live and will likely be unhappy with your continued existence. At least, you should consider taking up residence somewhere else temporarily. For tonight, I’ll get everyone set up in some of the rooms in the base, but that will come later. For now, we need to get everything sorted out. I have a good overall idea about what happened at this point, is there any other important information I need to deal with immediately?”

Mostly everyone shook their heads and Logan was about to move on to getting more detailed reports when Remus raised his hand.

“Yes?” Logan asked.

“There are two of Barbara Nelson’s men tied up in the trunk of Lena’s car,” he offered.

“What?” Logan asked.

“They were the guys shooting at us that caused Roman to drive into the pond.”

“I did not drive into the pond.” Roman said.

“You were shot at?!”

  Chapter 24

Logan had kept them in the meeting room for literal hours, pausing only to feed everyone except Patton and Virgil (who had actually eaten dinner). Eventually, he decided that he was satisfied with the explanations (Well, no, perhaps not satisfied, he was still very displeased with everyone except Virgil and maybe Emile, though Emile had not helped himself when he’d realized that he’d spoken both to Patton and Remus in the grocery store near Remy’s house and he and Patton had proceeded to go off on a tangent about pasta.) and had taken them all to some of the hotel style rooms in the base.

[xxbyimm]

The Redeemer - Fíli x Elf!Reader

Link to my Masterlist.

This was a (song) request by a lovely anon. It took me so long to write it (I am sorry for that), but once I did the words just flew on paper. Fíli is such a wonderful soul to write about and let me portray this soft side of him that I LOVE! I couldn’t wait to show y’all, that’s why I did not edit it as much as I usually do. It still can be a bit rough, but I think that adds to the charm. 

Also: I used the requested song Redeemer by Paul Cardall  to write this fic. Though it doesn’t appear in the story that explicitly, I tried to pour the deeper layers of the melody in this story. I highly recommend you listen it while reading. 

The Redeemer - Fíli x Elf!Reader

Summary:  It’s love at first sight when Fíli meets this elven reader. She plays the violin for him and Fíli makes a promise.

Warnings: Fluff, teenie tiny bit of angst.

Taglist: @soradragon​ @pistachiozombie​ @legolaslovely​ @tomisbaeholland​ @swoopswishsward​ @fizzyxcustard​ @deepestfirefun​ @ruthoakenshield​ @mariannetora​ @thequeenoferebor​  If you don’t wish to be tagged anymore, please let me know! Or if you’re not on the list and want to be tagged: check out my lists and I’d like to hear which list you want in on!

Everyone else was vast asleep.

Save for one. Fíli, the eldest son of Dís, lied wide eyed on the soft grass. His gaze was fixated upon the sky, where he admired the constellations and the soft light they emitted. On the ground, the little green blades beneath him tickled his feet and the prince smiled. Though the quest for the lonely mountain had just begun, Fíli already felt an overwhelming tiredness.

Not physically, no.

Fíli was a strong dwarf, used to physical combat and the harsh ways of the wild. He had spent enough time on the road with his uncle to know what it was like. No, this exhaustion was more of a spiritual kind. He loved his kin more than anything and he still was honored that Thorin had asked him to come along with the group, but… their constant bickering and loudness was taking a toll. Sure, even he knew he could be loud and annoying sometimes, but to function normally he also needed some time alone. A quiet place where his mind could wander, and where he eventually could let go of all the never ending clattering in his head.

One would say that the valley of the Imladris was the perfect place to unwind, but Thorin had kept his eldest nephew busy enough by barking around various orders. After a dreadful dinner with the elves, which had dragged on and on for hours, Fíli also had to endure all the impolite remarks the others made about the food, their hosts and the music that had been provided. Though not all had been the prince’s taste too, his amad had taught him to respect other cultures, even if it concerned elves. He knew Thorin and Kíli must have felt the same, but somehow they handled it a lot better than the golden lion did.

No, for now he had enough of the quest. And for the first time since he had left home, he longed for the blue mountains.

The golden lion had been lying on the grass for ages when soft, musical sounds reached his attention. Fíli pushed himself up his elbows and listened. The melody was gentle and light, but in that softness he found a profundity that touched his heart. A shiver went down his spine and the prince rubbed his arms. To him, the music spoke of gratitude and hope, but also of loss and a deep sorrow that time cannot mend. Fíli bit on his lip and without thinking further, got up on his feet and moved towards the source of the music.

She was absolutely the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. Though she was quite short for an elf, she had this long H/C hair that framed her fair face and flowed over her shoulders up to her hips. Her purple dress was typical elvish: simple and majestic. Her eyes were closed as she swayed along with the melody she was playing. Fíli could have stayed hidden behind the trees forever, watching her skilled, long fingers play -no it was more a kind of caress- the violin, but his morals made him step into the clearing and thus make himself known. 

Not that that she gave any inclination that she noticed his presence. Fíli stood there for a few moments and when he was about to clear his throat, when…

‘Oh, hello.’ She greeted him with a small curtsey and the music stopped.

‘Good evening, fair lady.’ The prince said. ‘I came to thank you for playing such a beautiful composition.’

‘I called it the Redeemer. It’s about hope and kindness.’

‘And about a great loss.’ Fíli added breathlessly. ‘Something time can’t mend.’

A faint smile appeared on her face. ‘You’re being too kind, master dwarf. My father said that your comrades didn’t seem to appreciate our musical arts during dinner and that he doubts if he can endure such insolence again.’

Oh, this again.

Fíli grimaced. ‘Please let me apologize for my comrades’ behavior. They don’t always appreciate the gentle things life has to offer.’

She inclined her head. ‘And you do?’

The prince shrugged. ‘I think I do, but how would I know? I mean, if one doesn’t have the ability to observe those things, one cannot appreciate them anyway. I think we all lack some perspective in a way, but that blindness doesn’t mean that the things we miss are not worthy of our attention.’

Her E/C eyes flashed with a passion he had not seen in an elf before and Fíli felt a tingly sensation in his stomach.

 ‘You’re different than the others.’ she said. ‘Why is that?’

The golden lion smirked. ‘You’re awfully inquisitive for someone who doesn’t even know my name.’

‘You are Fíli, son of Víli and Dís.’ She told him. ‘You are a prince of Durin and you’ve been invited by your uncle Thorin Oakenshield to join the quest to retrieve your homeland.’

‘Fine.’ He smiled. ‘You do know who I am. But can I at least know who you are in return?’

She nodded slowly. ‘You may. I am Y/N, youngest daughter of Elrond and Celebrían.’

‘Ah, an highborn elf.’ Fíli mused. ‘Sister of Elladan, Elrohir and Arwen.’

She gave him a knowing look, but somehow decided that she would not pursue the matter. Instead, she strolled towards the other end of the clearing and just when she was about to disappear behind the trees, she called.

‘Will you join me for a walk in the moonlight, prince Fíli?’

The golden lion cocked a brow. ‘I could.’

The night was passing more swiftly than they both liked to admit. First they had strolled through the garden where Y/N had showed him her favorite flowers. Then they admired the same fountains where Fíli had enjoyed a good bath earlier that day and when he told Y/N about it, she confessed she had seen them bathing. When they finally settled down next to a small runlet and she tentatively laid her head on his lap, Fíli knew something for sure.

Not only was she the most gorgeous lady he had ever encountered, her mind was even more beautiful. She was wise and kind, proud of her heritage, but unlike others she could see past that pride. She was clearly an intelligent creature, her imagination like a wild horse that does not like to be tamed. She possessed a moral compass and her view on life and the universe was intriguing. Fíli found himself hanging on her every word, and though some part of him found it ridiculous (she was an elf, after all), he couldn’t help but wanting to know more about her.

Something clicked. Something filled all the empty parts of his soul that he did not know he had missed before. Upon realizing that, he suddenly understood something very important. He had been looking for someone like her all his life, for she was his One.

‘I think my kin can be horribly distant and cold.’ She was telling him quietly. ‘Like they’re not a part of this world. But they are wrong about that-’

‘You are so beautiful, amrâlimê.’ Fíli whispered, his left hand slightly trembling as he brushed it through her hair. ‘Body and soul…’

‘What?’ she breathed, barely audible.

He purred and brushed his fingers over her pronounced cheekbones. ‘You heard me.’  

She blushed gracefully. ‘Fíli…’

‘I’m merely stating that what I feel.’ The prince told her as he slightly bent over her.  

‘So soon?’ she mumbled, her gaze flashing up and locking with his. ‘How can one be sure…?’

The golden lion smiled brightly. ‘You lot have thousands of years to figure things out. As a dwarf, I can’t afford the luxury of endless time. We know how fickle life can be, that’s why we act certain and swiftly.’

‘That must be so fulfilling…’ she said softly. ‘Living life to the fullest. Enjoying every moment, because you know you’re alive.’

‘It is.’ The prince promised. ‘Of course there’s sorrow and pain. But at least we have love, burning bright in our hearts, joy and laughter in between.’

 They both fell quiet. Y/N lifted her head from his lap and rose, only to curl up on his lap once more. If she moved forward, her lips could kiss his forehead. Fíli gazed slightly up. His eyes darted along her exposed neck before he got lost in her beautiful E/C eyes. Y/N’s mouth opened slightly and her tongue wetted her lips, causing Fíli to groan.

Mahal save his soul.

He would lose his sanity if he had to continue staring (and doing nothing!) at her like this. With a strangled cry he surged forward, his mouth greedily taking in the soft flesh of her neck. She smelled as sweet as a flower. Her skin was hot under his touch, like the rocks in the wild feel when they have been baking in the sun the whole day. Y/N moaned, her hands reaching out and fingers digging in his clothing. He knew she felt the same way as he did and it was only a matter of time before she was his.

‘You are so perfect.’ She breathed when the prince kissed his way up to her jaw. ‘How is it- ah!- possible you exist?’

‘So soon?’ he teased with a smirk, lazily trailing over her jawbone. ‘How can one be sure?’

She laughed and it was the most beautiful thing he ever heard. Not even her violin could match that. That’s why her kiss that followed, took him by surprise. But the shock quickly died out, as it was a most welcome surprise.

‘Come with me.’ He begged against her lips. ‘Please.’

A soft gasp. Her cheeks flushed again. ‘I can’t.’

‘Can’t or won’t?’ he pressed.

‘We’re so different, you and I.’ she stated. ‘I don’t think your uncle would approve of an elf no less, tagging along. And my father-’

‘Oh live a little, you pointy ears.’ He jested while his thumb caressed her cheek.

‘Think a little, master dwarf.’ She grinned.

‘So we’re at a stalemate, huh.’ Fíli remarked. He didn’t want to admit it just yet, but the thought of leaving her behind was just horrible. How could he ever? He just found her!

She heaved a sigh. ‘I…’

‘No, I won’t ask such a thing of you.’ Fíli decided. ‘But then… I need to know if you will wait for me.’ he told her, his voice slightly trembling. ‘Here. In Rivendell. I swear to Mahal I’ll come back to you.’

‘Oh Fíli…’ Her eyes were swelling with emotion. ‘If you want to swear on anything…’ she breathed, reaching for the hem of his tunic. ‘Then swear on me.’

He was going to die.

The hateful, pale orc had him firmly in his grip. Fíli was swinging in the air, like a ragdoll, when Azog taunted Thorin Oakenshield with his latest catch. Fíli could see the hurt in his uncle’s eyes, the regret. Uncle would blame himself for the rest of his days for ordering his nephew to search the lower levels. But it didn’t matter. Fíli knew Thorin could not have known that he and Kíli were walking down a trap. Uncle wasn’t to blame. The piece of shit that was about to kill him, was.

The blade that stuck from the filths’ right arm came into view and Fíli knew that this was the end. He braced himself and managed to scream a harsh ‘RUN!’ to his kin. If he had to die to save the others, he would do it in a heartbeat.

His life flashed before his eyes. Amad, Kíli, uncle. Growing up in the blue mountains, causing mayhem whenever he and Kíli went. Amad at her wits’ end, uncle Thorin acting stern, but somehow always smiling too. Fighting lessons from Dwalin. Balin boring them to death with administrative tasks. The gullible but also sassy Bilbo Baggins, who turned out to be more resilient than anyone had thought.

Then her face came into view and Fíli smiled faintly. Y/N. If he had to regret one choice in life, it was that he had not taken her with him. She would have loved the wild and he would have loved to watch her discover the real world. On the other hand, now she didn’t have to witness him dying. But what would she do if the news finally would reach her? He had made a promise…

The blade moved. But somehow it never protruded his back, nor did it slit his throat…

 First, there was a whistling sound which Fíli recognized as another blade, a small one. His favorite blade, to be exact. The one everyone underestimated, because it was small, but it was swift too and could move unseen.

Though that wasn’t possible, because he gave it to Y/N, before departing from Rivendell. It had been a promise, not made by prince Fíli, son of Víli, but by his own soul.

A howling sound followed and Fíli smacked on the ground. He growled in pain and rolled to his side. In a blur, he saw a slim figure jumping on the pale orcs’ back, screaming something he could not comprehend. His dagger was penetrating the orc’s right arm. The wound bled viciously, but Azog was accustomed to pain and reached for the elf.

Fíli saw a flash of H/C hair and his stomach turned. Then he gritted his teeth, got two of his knives and went for the orc’s feet.

‘Don’t you dare to die on me, you reckless dwarf!’ someone hissed. ‘I did not leave Rivendell only to bury you.’

‘I won’t.’ he murmured before opening his eyes.

He was lying in a soft bed, by the looks of it in a hastily set up infirmary in Erebor. Around him, injured dwarves, elves and men occupied the other beds. Y/N was sitting next to him, her hand grasping his. Her thumb stroked lovingly over his wrist. Mahal, she was here. It hadn’t been a dream.

‘How…?’ he managed to ask, eyes brimming with emotion.

‘Sssh.’ She hushed softly.

‘But…’

‘You liberated me, prince Fíli.’ She said quietly. ‘From a beautiful, yet shallow life. How could I not have come after you?’

‘You promised to wait.’ He said. ‘I would have come back. Didn’t you trust me?’

‘Of course I knew you would, but I was fed up waiting for something to happen. I’ve done that for far too long.’ she told him. ‘It was like you said. The world is out here, with you. I wanted to tell you that before you would…’ she fell silent.

‘Before what?’ the prince nudged.

She shook her head. ‘I feared you would forget about me.’

‘Oh, amrâlimê!’ He carefully got up and ignored her judgmental looks. ‘I’ve got this.’ He huffed. ‘I want to kiss these stubborn pointy ears, that’s all.’

‘You could have asked, you know.’ She smiled, while pushing him gently backwards against the cushions. ‘I’ll gladly assist.’

‘How could I ever forget about you?’ The prince inquired softly, moving his hands to cup her cheeks. ‘You are my One and I love you.’

She bit her lip and grinned. ‘You forgot to mention I saved you, reckless dwarf.’

‘That too.’ He chuckled and then grimaced in pain. ‘You saved my life.’

She hummed, lips brushing over his. ‘Are you going to kiss me or not?’

‘One thing, Y/N…’ he breathed. ‘Will you save me from being a reckless dwarf and make me the luckiest dwarf in middle earth instead?’

She blinked. ‘How?’

‘Well…’ he grinned. ‘By marrying me…’

Thank you so much for reading my humble story. Feedback is always welcome.  Did you like my work? Spread the love and reblog! :) And here’s my Masterlist.

[ragnarachael]

Awkward Air: The Birthday

Pairing: Tony Stark x Reader, Peter Parker x Sister!Reader, May Parker x Happy Hogan

Word Count: 3,4k

Summary: May Parker’s birthday is notorious in the Parker-Stark household, and Happy’s got an important question for you and Peter. (request)

Author’s Ramblings: it took a minute, but we’re back in the Awkward Air series!! i consider the awkward air series DONE after this! however, there will be a little fic that’ll (eventually) come out that mentions this again.. you’ll see why when you’re done reading this one ;)

MASTERLIST !    FEEDBACK !   AO3 LINK !

May’s birthday was always a fun time, whether it was before or after you and Tony were together.

You and Peter both insisted on making May’s birthday a big occasion. Ever since Ben passed, you two always made it your mission to make the day a happy and exciting occasion.

So when you were getting your Parker Party Project together, as Peter titled the group chat, you added Tony and in turn Tony had added Happy. All the people that loved May Parker so much, planning her special day in one little group chat.

Little did you know how chaotic it would be to have Tony and Peter together in said chat.

They both ended up texting at odd hours in the night, and half the time they were just goofing off. Needless to say, you removed your idiot of a husband from the group text once he was passed out for the day after working on things around in the backyard—things being of the Morgan’s tree house variety.

Thankfully, the planning went smoother then, and Tony wasn’t as pouty as you’d thought he’d be.

In the end, you, Peter, and Happy had agreed to throw a surprise party. Peter and you would figure out a theme while Happy and Tony dealt with the food in their texts.

“Okay, so what should—”

“Unicorns!” Morgan exclaimed as she held your hand tightly, the other holding Peter’s she walked between you both in Queens, heading to a small coffee shop to plan while Tony and Happy were back at the compound planning out the food. “Nana loves unicorns!”

“We already threw her a party like that, Morgs,” Peter reasoned gently as he looked down at his niece, chuckling at her reaction.

“Yeah, baby, she’s unicorned out,” you explained briefly, giving her a sympathetic smile before you tugged her and Peter to a stop at a crosswalk. “Maybe we could do something based on those cooking shows she loves?”

“Nah, then that means she’ll wanna cook. We don’t need that.” Peter shook his head as the three of you waited for the countdown on the crosswalk to finish.

“Costume party?” You suggested, squatting down momentarily to fix one of Morgan’s hair clips.

“Why would we do that?”

“She loves doing that!”

“Doing what? Dressing up in costumes?” Peter shot back as you stood up, taking Morgan’s hand again. You scoffed.

“Yeah? At least, I assumed she did,” you sighed before leading the way across the street once you were allowed. “I dunno. We’ve thought of practically everything.”

Peter shrugged, dramatically swinging his hand with Morgan the best he could before finally giving up and swiftly lifting her up and onto his shoulders. He laughed while she squealed in delight, gripping onto his hair as leverage. You kept walking forward with a fond smile on your face.

Your little brother was such a good uncle.

“Maybe some peace and quiet could be her gift,” you joked, closing the Morgan-sized gap between you and Peter.

“Peace and quiet? How much trouble do you think I get into?” Peter questioned, feeling offended. “I’m the perfect one, remember?”

“Ha! Sure,” you cackled, turning a corner the same time as Peter. “The perfect one. Okay. Tell me that the next time she asks where the heck you are after patrols.”

Peter took a moment to grimace at your choice of wording before recalling the small child that was tugging on his hair as you sped up to catch the slowly closing door of the coffee shop you were coming up on.

“Okay, maybe not that perfect.”

You snorted and playfully ushered him in, watching as he ducked down dramatically for Morgan’s sake.

Peter and Morgan happily rushed to nestle into a booth after you got in line to order some snacks and drinks for the three of you. A nice Chai for you, hot chocolate for Morgan, and something with a lot of caramel for Peter.

Once you sat down with them, you got back to brainstorming.

“Movie marathon?”

“She’ll fall asleep, unless Henry Cavill is on TV.”

“Then we watch Cavill movies!” You exclaimed softly, moving to sip at your cup. Peter sighed as he mixed the whipped cream with his frappuccino.

“If Happy is gonna be with us, I don’t think he’ll want to watch his girlfriend swoon over Geralt of Rivia.”

“But who doesn’t swoon over him is a better question,” you replied after smacking your lips. Morgan happily picked at her blueberry muffin you got her while she soaked in the conversation.

“Okay my point here is,” Peter started, stopping his vigorous mixing of his frappe, “May will not hold her mouth. The things I’ve heard that woman say about Henry Cavill? Morgan would be tainted, just like me. I don’t want that for my niece.”

You watched as Peter spoke with his hands, letting his left land on top of Morgan’s head as she munched on a blueberry. Leaning back against your side of the booth, you realized he does have a point.

“Touché... If we can’t agree on a surprise party theme, we might have to be normal this year.”

Peter grimaced then, reaching for his frappe again to finish his mixing mission. “I don’t like being typical when it comes to May.”

“I don’t either, but we might have to. We could have dinner over at mine? We can bake and decorate the cake while Happy takes her around town?”

Peter nodded slowly at the idea, leaning forwards to suck on the straw to his drink. You sipped your drink at the same time as Morgan, waiting for a proper reply.

Peter pulled off the straw then with a smack, licking his lips. “What’ll Tony do?”

“What Tony does.”

“Which is?”

“Help Morgan with her treehouse plans. Maybe even decorate the back deck he finished building so we could eat out there. And maybe be our lookout if we need it, of course,” you explained. “It’s foolproof.”

Peter agreed quickly at this point, probably just wanting to enjoy his sugary drink in peace without the worry of party planning.

Later that night you told Tony about the idea, to which he agreed with whatever you thought was good. You knew he probably should stay out of it and let you take care of it, even if he’s known May for a good chunk of time, he wanted the professionals to handle it.

And handle it you did.

Peter made the trip over bright and early that Tuesday, after making May breakfast without burning anything in the apartment, texted you and Happy in the groupchat to get everything into motion.

You then got up to see the bed was empty apart from you and the pillow you apparently were cuddling in place of your husband. Confusion took over your features, and you were quick to grab your phone and pull on sleep shorts you had discarded before bed before heading down stairs.

That’s where you found Tony and Morgan cuddling on the couch, fast asleep while Christopher Robin played quietly in the background. Usually that meant Morgan must have had a bad dream, which caused you to coo almost silently and move some of her jostled hair to press a kiss to her forehead before doing the same with Tony.

You’d have to work under these conditions until Peter got here. That would be fine.

It was times like these you were thankful you had baked something sweet to snack on for breakfast just yesterday as you pulled out most of the ingredients to make one of the cake recipes your mother made when you and Peter were little little. Peter would be the last piece of the puzzle, bringing the ingredients you didn’t have as well as something for dinner for the six of you tonight.

Around 10 o'clock, you quietly snuck Peter in while Tony and Morgan kept sleeping, the TV having been turned off for a good 30 minutes now.

“Hey, take these?” Peter questioned quickly as he held out some bags to you. You tilted your head and took them without question.

“What else did you get?”

“You should have sent me with a chaperon,” Peter replied quickly, rushing back out to his car while you let out a sigh and made your way to the kitchen before your hands fell off.

While Peter made his trips in and out through the front door quietly, you made your way back to the couch where Tony and Morgan resided.

“Hey, babe,” you whispered gently as you placed a hand on Tony’s chest to wake him. He just grunted and squeezed his eyes tighter. “Baby, Peter’s here. You and Morgan gotta move.”

Tony finally let his eyes crack open, seeming pouty. “Damn.”

You giggled quietly. “I know, I know. You can sleep in with her until one or so, but then I need your services with those lights for the deck.”

Tony’s free hand behind his head moved to rub the sleep out of his eyes before sitting up to meet you halfway for a quick kiss.

“Fine, fine. Do you need a cake tester too? I also double as a cake tester—”

“Tony, shut up and get your butt upstairs,” you replied fondly, moving both hands to cup his face to press one last kiss to your husbands lips. After that, you were quick to move back to the kitchen to let him wake up a bit more before trying to pick up your sleeping daughter.

You rounded the couch before stopping in the kitchen as Peter tried to rearrange something on the kitchen island with his back to you.

“What did you buy? Please be something useful—”

“Okay so I found spring gingerbread houses,” he started, not caring if he cut you off, quick to slide aside for you to see the packaging. He.. wasn’t wrong. Those were gingerbread house pieces with spring decorations.

But, why the hell were they bought?

“I know what you’re thinking,” Peter started quickly, grabbing the three kits that were laid out. “But they were on sale. It was cute, I got extra stuff to decorate them with too because we all know the frosting with them are shit—”

“Pete!” You exclaimed quietly, reaching a hand out to cover your brother’s mouth. “Morgan’s literally in the next room, shut it!”

“Sorry!” Peter replied softly, moving the kits to a hidden corner of the kitchen. “But I got everything else for Mom’s cake recipe, and dinner. That Binging with Babish guy really has everything on his website.”

“I told you! And you thought Andrew Rea wouldn’t be good,” you scoffed, moving to the extra bags to get to work.

The cake was easy, thank Christ. You and Peter have done it enough to where you two can easily sync up and work together successfully. The cake was done by noon and that gave you a while to try and figure out the recipe for dinner you found on Babish’s website.

“What made you choose those fish tacos anyways?”

“May said something about how she liked that movie I Love You, Man and I thought about Babish so,” you explained as you stared at your laptop screen. “Made sense to me.”

Peter let out an understanding hum as he rested his head on your shoulder, cheek pressed into you enough to have it make the side of his face puckered.

Making the recipe was.. Well. It sounded hard. It wasn’t your first time trying a Babish recipe, but it was new having to try it with this new calibre of instructions. You were worried but kept it quiet so Peter didn’t freak out inside while he did everything.

Peter took well to it actually. He was like a bit of a sponge that way. He was always the one between the two of you to adapt to situations and such a little faster, and you were thankful for that for once.

He explained bits and pieces of the instructions to you after watching the video as you took a break from cooking for a bit. You both even started to decorate the deck before Morgan and Tony joined you around two to help.

Happy occasionally texted updates about what he and May were doing, and where they were at so you could have a window where you could make the fish tacos. You suspected it would take a bit of time, around four hours? Maybe? You didn’t do math much unless it was Morgan’s homework anymore, so you had no clue.

But it went a lot quicker than you anticipated.

You and Peter started cooking at 3, and easily got done by 6 o’clock. All you had left was the guac and pico de gallo and you planned to make that dead last when Happy and May were about 30 minutes out.

“Okay! Okay,” you said aloud to yourself, very pleased with all the things you and Peter made successfully on the first try without burning anything. Parker Luck be damned.

“I say we finish decorating the deck with last minute streamers,” Peter announced, quietly eating a packet of Gushers next to you. “It’ll be cute.”

“Nah, it could get too windy for that. I think the deck looks fine on it’s own already. The tablecloth is already on the table we dragged out there, we got those edison bulbs hung up. Got the centerpiece in here out there,” you recounted easily, hands flying to your apron that you’ve had on for the better half of the day. “I think we’re basically done apart from the last two puzzle pieces.”

“Yeah. Happy and May better not be—”

“I was talking about the guacamole and pico de gallo, but go off,” you replied with a laugh, throwing your apron over one of the stools near the edge of the kitchen counter. Peter snorted and poured the rest of his Gushers into his mouth as he tried not to laugh.

The two of you decided to clean up. It didn’t really last too long, since Happy had texted about 15 minutes after you started a small assembly line of somewhat washed dishes.

Morgan was drawing when you called for Tony from the bottom of the stairs to get him to help Peter set up the table outside.

“Mommy!” She shouted as you stopped just outside the kitchen, quick to abandon her drawing to skip over to you. “What can I do?”

“You, my love,” you started softly, quick to squat down to her height, “can finish Nana’s  birthday drawing. When you’re done, we’re gonna surprise her.”

“But I wanna help!” She was pouting now, a signature Tony move as of late. You cooed and pushed some of her hair back behind her ear before letting your hand cup her face as you had an idea come to mind.

“You wanna get the silverware together with me then, baby? Make it all fancy with those pretty napkins Uncle Pete brought?”

Morgan practically squealed at the idea as Peter stepped around the two of you with the plate of fish that was covered with aluminum foil to keep it warm. You laughed and picked her up quickly, holding her on your hip as you tried to hide your struggle.

Moments like this made you realize your little girl was growing up. You shook it off quickly as you sat Morgan on the kitchen island, moving around quickly to pull the napkins Peter brought to her.

Morgan seemed to know what to do right away, because she unfolded the napkins and politely asked you for the silverware. She didn’t really know what kind of roll or fold or whatever to do once she got everything in, but that’s where you were quick to come in.

The two of you had a nice and simple rhythm, even saying hi to Peter and Tony as they popped in and out for the food. Eventually when the small bundles of silverware were with napkins, you asked Peter to help Morgan place them while you made the guacamole and pico de gallo.

And, thankfully, your timing was impeccable. You finished the last minute things, got them out to the deck and came back in just enough time to answer the door when May and Happy knocked.

“Hey!”

“Hi!” May replied with the same enthusiasm. “I saw Peter’s car here, please tell me this won’t end up like last year.”

“The glitter was a terrible idea, I’ll be the first to admit it,” you heaved, laughing softly before pulling her into a tight hug. “I hope you two didn’t go out to eat or anything, because we’ve got a thing or two going on in the back.”

“Nana!” Morgan shouted suddenly, quick to rush over to the front and leave Peter behind. You and May laughed before separating so Morgan could get her hug while you turned to Happy.

“I trust that you’ve spoiled her?”

“Oh yeah,” Happy replied immediately, chuckling. “What do you think I am? An idiot?”

You laughed softly before pulling him in for a hug. “Just making sure you’re taking care of my Aunt, Hogan.”

“I always am, Stark,” Happy chuckled again.

After Peter and Tony got in on the greetings, you were quick to direct everyone out to the backyard. The food couldn’t wait out there forever with their covers, and you were already treading on thin ice that it would start to suck after being covered for so long. Thankfully, everyone listened and you were out on the deck for dinner just in time to properly see those lights in action.

Dinner was a hit. You didn’t expect it to be bad , per se, but you were worried after it sat that it wouldn’t be as good. Your worry washed away the second May said something along the lines of “That Babish guy did this before! It looks just as amazing as his!”

You laughed, you teased, you occasionally cleaned Morgan’s face of guacamole when she took a bit more than she could get in her mouth properly. It was a lovely family get together.

Until Happy asked to help you and Peter in the kitchen when you said you were going to grab more drinks for the adults. You were getting anxious.

“Pete if you could grab the cake from the fridge,” you asked gently as you walked into the kitchen. “I’ll grab the candles.”

Happy was quick to help Peter with the fridge door so the cake could be retrieved.

“I uh.. How would you feel,” Happy started slowly, unable to try and find the words he was looking for. “How would you feel about May getting remarried?”

You’re more than sure Peter would have dropped the cake if he had it in his hands.

“You what?” He questioned back quickly. You were frozen with your hands on the small pack of candles that Peter bought earlier in the day.

You knew where this one was headed. And you were a lot more accepting than you were when you first thought of this happening.

“You’re asking us for permission?” You questioned suddenly, turning around to look at Happy who was trying to deal with a babbling Peter. But Peter quieted immediately when you talked.

“Well... yeah. May is her own person, I know, but I want to do it right.” Happy was fidgety. He was anxious just like you were.

You couldn’t hold back the smile that was growing on your face then.

“Happy, I’d love nothing more. And I’m sure Peter feels the same, it’ll just—”

“Take some cake to shut him up?” He questioned back amusingly, seeming relieved from your answer. You laughed, nodding immediately before placing the candles down to move the reeling Peter away from the open fridge to grab the cake yourself.

“Do you have an idea for a ring? I can help whenever—”

“Wait a minute,” Peter spoke suddenly, “marriage?”

You sighed as the cake finally got out of the fridge, placing it on the island as Happy closed the door with a sigh. “At least you’re not reacting like you did when Tony asked you and May for permission.”

“Okay, that was a bad day for me,” Peter retaliated before taking a deep breath. “Holy shit. Marriage.”

“We can chat later on about it,” Happy said quickly, trying to get Peter to calm down. “We’ve got a cake to bring out.”

[biohazard-inevitable]

Red Exit

A Roadrat fanfic + D.Va that was inspured by the two Junkers and a D.VA short as well as a rp I did with @emile-hides and @aripan12 !The comic link can be found on Emile’s site along with his fanfic with a similar concept that also ispired this fic! I kind of left the ending a bit ambiguous and mainly focused in on the relationship Junkrat and Roadhog had. Hope you enjoy!

“Roadie! Oi! Roadie!” Junkrat’s nasally voice broke out into Roadhog’s ear as he slept in. Roadhog gruffed out a huff as he sat up and glared down at his small companion.

“What?” He asked, standing up a little.

“Listen do ya know where tha’ bloody tape went? I need it for a project.” Junkrat said, then proceeded to follow Roadhog as he silently walked over to a stash of junk and pulled out a fat roll of duct tape from it, throwing it unceremoniously at Junkrat. Junkrat caught it with a little bit of a fumble as he giggled a bit. “Thanks mate!”

Roadhog watched as his companion scuttled back outside to his workshop like the rat he was. He shrugged and sighed a bit as he prepared lunch for Jamison, knowing the idiot probably hadn’t bothered to feed himself. Soon after making a sandwich for the bastard, Roadhog lumbered out to the workshop where he found Junkrat fully hyper focused on whatever the fuck he was building.

“Rat.” He growled out, snapping the rodent of a man out of his trance as he threw the sandwhich onto the table. “Eat.”

“Ah cheers mate.” Junkrat said, grabbing the sandwich and swiftly taking a bite out of it. “Nearly forgot!” A titteribg laugh followed this comment and Roadhog rolled his eyes underneath his mask. Of course he forgot.

“I’m goin into town.” Roadhog said as he turned and began walking out of the workshop.

“Oh ye are? Lemme come with!” Junkrat said, beginning to trail behind his bodyguard. “I need some things, scrap mostly.” Junkrat then let out a squeak as he was grabbed by his tire and promptly shoved into a sitting position on his couch.

“Stay.” Roadhog snarled from underneath his mask before finally making his leave. Junkrat crossed his arms and pouted.

“Big lug cant tell me what ta do.” He mumbled go himself. Junkrat wasn’t going to disobey his bodyguard however, he knew he’d never hear the end of it from the guy if he did so he continued to work on his project.

As Roadhog approached the gates to Junkertown, a rather interesting sight caught his eye. A girl was sat outside the city of waste, pounding as hard as she could on the rusty metal doors.

“Please! Please let me in! I need help!” The girl wailed out pathetically.

She was an interesting one that was for sure. Decked out in a pink and blue outfit and with shiny hair that must have been freshly washed, she looked out of place here in the wasteland. Not that Roadhog could give to shits anyways, she was in the way. Swiftly and with a strong wrist-flicking movement, Roadhog’s hook flug out and wrapped harshly against the girl’s waist, pulling her in closer.

“Get outta the way.” Roadhog snarled out as he walked past her and up to the gates.

“Sir please!” The girl said boldly. “Just hear me out, okay?”

Roadhog turned to her and huffed, crossing his arms impatiently as he decided to hear her out.

“My name is Hana Song! I was a MEKA pilot over in South Korea. I was kidnapped and abandoned here and I need help finding a way home!” She was determined, that was for sure, but she was also rather naive to think a Junker would help her.

“What makes you think I’d help you?” Roadhog questioned, looking the skinny girl up and down.

“You Junkers like money, right? W-well back home I’ve got lots of it!” Hana said, the confidence in her voice slipping. Roadhog sighed and figured supplies could wait. They needed a boat.

“Follow me.” Roadhog huffed out as he began the short trek back to the shack.

As they approached the shack, Roadhog knocked on the side of the hole that was one of three entrances to Junkrat’s workshop.

“Well yer back early.” Junkrat said, getting up and hobbling over to Roadhog. “Wait a minute, who’s the random sheila? Don’t tell me yer bringin brothel girls back ta our place!”

“Shut up.” Roadhog snarled. “This is Hana. We’re taking her back to Korea.”

“Kor ee ha?” Junkrat voiced out, saying it wrong several times. “Where’s that? Is it near Sydney or that near wherever Brisbane is?”

“Shut it.” Roadhog snarled out a second time. “I have a buddy that owes me a solid. He can get us a boat and then we can-“ Roadhog could barely say anything else as he was immediately cut off by Junkrat.

“Wait wait wait, a boat? Alright first off, since when do you have a buddy that owes ye a solid? Secondly, are we really jus up an leavin? What about our revenge on the queen? What about our agreement? We just gonna lug that with us?” Although Junkrat brought up some valid points, Roadhog could care less.

“Shut up or I’ll leave you here alone.” Roadhog hissed out. An empty threat, but definitely one that Junkrat wouldn’t try to test. At least, that’s what Roadhog hoped.

“Foine then.” Junkrat said, standing up straight to his full height. “You go getcher boat and I’ll just sit around then. Keep yer secrets an all that. Not like I get any say in the matter anyways!”

God he was such a child sometimes, but Junkrat’s tone felt different. There was a slight wobble to it, almost like the pathetic man was on the verge of tears. Roadhog tried to ignore it as he left.

“Watch the kid.” He huffed out briefly before he left back in the direction of Junkertown.

After Roadhog returned, they began formulating a proper plan and aranged their agreements with Hana regarding the money.

“This better be some good fuckin loot if we’re goin all this way outta our way fer ya.” Junkrat said sternly, eyeing Hana with suspicion as he leaned forward a bit. “And if you try ta juke us-“

“Rat that’s enough.” Roadhog growled, watching as the pyromaniac sank down into a slump on his seat. “The boat will be ready by early morning, before dawn. So let’s get some rest before we head out.”

The group nodded in agreement before setting to their spots to rest, Hana taking the upstairs couch and Junkrat going out to his workshop couch to rest as well. Roadhog did his best to try and sleep, but to no abail. Finally, he gave up in the middle of the night, opting to go outside to the cliff and gaze off of it and into the endless expanse of the wasteland.

“Couldn’t sleep either, huh Roadie?” Junkrat’s voice caught Roadhog off guard as the scrawny man came over beside him. “Mind if I join ya for a tick?”

Roadhog merely huffed in a way that said, “do whatever you’d like” and Junkrat promptly sat down beside him. For once, the two Junkers sat together in silence before Roadhog finally broke the silence.

“It’s my fault.”

“Huh? Whatcha mean Roadie?” Junkrat’s amber eyes looked up at Roadhog gently.

“All of this.” Roadhog gestured out to the wilderness in front of him. Junkrat let out a breif scoff at the gesture.

“Don’t flatter yerself! All this can’tve possible been all one man’s fault.”

“You don’t understand.” Roadhog sighed. “You weren’t there. If only I hadn’t been in the ALF. If only I hadn’t caused the omnium to explode-“ A metalic hand rested on his thigh and cut him off.

“Mako. Listen to me. It ain’t yer bloody fault.” Junkrat’s tone was deeper, more serious. “If the omnium hadn’t exploded, a lotta things wouldn’t’ve happened mate.”

“I know. You would probably have become a child soldier, or maybe even have a chance at a happy life, a normal life. Not this bullshit.”

“Oh would you shut the fuck up already?” Junkrat sighed out. “I like this life if you’d ask me. Wot I meant was, if the omnium hadn’t exploded, I wouldn’t have found my love for bombs. More importantly,” Junkrat moved his hands up to the sides of Roadhog’s mask and stood up on a rock to look into the eye holes of his mask. “I wouldn’t have met you.”

“Jamison.” Roadhog gently grasped onto Junkrat’s hands, pulling them down and away from his mask. “Trust me, you would have loved a happier, normal life. A life without me in it.”

“Bullshit.” Junkrat rested his forehead on Roadhog’s, tears welling up in his eyes. “I wouldn’t change this life for anything else in the world.” Junkrat gently unclasped the pig mask and left it up to Roadhog to remove it if he wanted to, which he did.

“Why?” Roadhog asked as he took his mask off slowly, revealing his mutilated face.

“Because you fucking dumbass,” Junkrat sniffled a little bit and smiled softly at the sight of Roadhog’s face. “Because I love you.”

[ddaenghoney]

chapter twelve

masterlist link in blog description.

As a successful songwriter, you want nothing more than the acknowledgment that the chart-topping musical pieces are your own creations. But contracts, relationships, and the difficulty of facing the stakes involved head on, keep your mouth shut until pressure builds too much.

Pairing(s): Park Jimin x Y/N, Min Yoongi x Y/N

disclaimer: any characters depicted do not represent the actual personality of the respected idol in real life.

Series warning(s)/genre(s): Chapter-based written fic, Slow-burn relationship(s), Fake-dating, Unrequited love, Songwriter/producer!oc, idol!Jimin, idol/songwriter/producer!Yoongi, friends with benefits, drama, romance, smut, angst, fluff (updated as needed)

Chapter warning(s): mentions of anxiety and themes of anxiety from slight claustrophobic environment.

Word count: 5463

if you enjoy please, please let me know!

You click the volume button on your phone to raise the playlist’s sound to comfortable blur of the world around. More particularly, to avoid any verbiage from entering your eardrums when you are already too aware of how much attention you bring to yourself. Rationalizing that your presence at the airport makes sense given your public relationship with Yoongi, you simply scroll through a feed of posts on Instagram to bide time, waiting for an arrival text.

Yoongi told you not to come when you told him as he boarded his flight home that you’d be there to greet him. Explaining that it’s dangerous to your safety considering the amount of crowds sure to welcome him as well with the flight back being public, Yoongi said he’d go see you from the airport instead. You would’ve agreed had the whole ordeal not been requested hours earlier in a direct email from Yerin.

“Ms.,” The sound muffles in your ears, more aware of the bodyguard’s request for your attention by means of a gentle pat on your shoulder. You remove an earbud, spine tingling at choice words that seemed amplified by the tall ceilings and shiny tile floor of the terminal. “He should be landing soon, when he enters, please make sure you follow our guidance to the vehicle instead of loitering. For your safety.”

You nod, feeling exceptionally feeble in this alien situation. Never in your life would you picture yourself waiting for someone of such high recognition in the middle of the airport at the top of a wall of fans held behind you by use of a flimsy metal barrier. Furthermore, you would not ever think the person would be a falsified boyfriend where your position in the crowd only drives irritated spikes constantly in your direction.

Granted, the majority of people waiting to spot Yoongi seem polite, and even yell back in your defense. Still, you didn’t necessarily want to be at the center of this type of attention. The guard next to you probably finds you being there just as annoying as you thought you’d be when you read the email’s demand-

“Look, he’s here!”

Like the shot to start a race, the one discernable exclamation causes a frenzy of calls. The barrier budges only slightly, impact stopping as sensibility takes over and the hundred or so people try to act as civil as possible given the circumstances.

You clutch your phone tighter in your grasp, glancing back at them all as they scream different things to gain attention, but your eyes go back to the opening doors. Along with other passengers getting as far away from the mayhem as possible, Yoongi walks out with the inherent entourage of staff and guards.

Your smile is incredibly forced because of the nerves rumbling in your throat from the amount of people and volume, but then altogether the expression fades away as Yoongi just nods in a direction for you to follow them down the premade path to the awaiting SUV. Gathering he’s irritated by the added hysteria of you being there, you move towards him quickly, grabbing hold of the hand he extends out for you, but it becomes abandons as well. Instead replaced by Yoongi’s arm worming around your waist to pull you closer to his stature as the crowds get more vivid on account of paparazzi waiting towards the doors.

Your newly free hands find purchase quickly gripping onto the fabric hanging off of Yoongi’s torso, nervously following his pace as the bright flashes stun your senses. Biting roughly on your lip, you feel the bumps from security, hear the constant shouts of attention for both of you, and try your best to ignore it all, repeating that it’ll end soon.

The car doors are open long before the two of you reach them. Yoongi nudges you ahead at last moment to let you inside first, following in quickly afterward with the door shutting just as swiftly. You exhale air held in your lungs as your hands fiddle with one another in your lap, trying to ease as the car departs.

“Are you okay?” Yoongi raises the armrest of his seat to turn, knee nearly bumping your own seat while his eyes scan over your person. “I wish you would’ve told Yerin no-- that-” He points to the back of the car where road trails behind you both, head shaking, “is scary enough for anyone, but making you wait there for me for hours?” He scoffs, rubbing his bangs back from his face, “Bullshit. You shouldn’t have had to go through that, I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

Quiet lingers in the air, Yoongi’s chest rising and emptying a bit more visibly from the angered rant. He waits for you to respond, still eyeing your figure for outward signs of distress from the crowds. You eventually nod your head,

“Not a fan of that all.” Your voice feels grated, must sound so too as Yoongi frowns at you in response. He glances to your hands balled in your lap, still fidgety for relief with one another. Wordlessly he reaches for them both, taking them within his larger appendages. Rubbing gently, Yoongi also nods his head to your conclusion. “I’m sorry if it made you upset I was there though.”

“I’m not mad about that.” Yoongi mumbles easily in response, keeping contact for himself because of how your hands feel between his. Naturally, he hates that invasive part of fame, finding it anxiety inducing for multiple reasons. “It just bothers me you had to be around all of the crowds and deal with that.”

“I’m okay.” You convince him with a small voice, that also helps your own psyche to hear aloud. A faint smile curls on Yoongi’s lips as he lifts his gaze back to yours, silently telling you that you didn’t need to pretend. Your shoulder shrugs because it’s not a complete lie. “You’re here. I’m okay.”

Yoongi’s lips pursed at your tiny admission, appearing to grow satisfied with the words, but his head ducks shyly. The balling connection of your hands feel only a little tighter because of a flustered squeeze by Yoongi, “If you say so then...”

“Oh,” You interrupt the moment to shift on your seat, facing Yoongi when he looks back to you in a focused surprise. “Can we go to my apartment? I have the cake.” You grin as you watch Yoongi’s eyes light up in remembrance of the jovial promise you made to him before leaving. His lips curl, visibly peeking teeth as he chuckles at the excitement and pride you emit from the endeavor,

“Who am I to say no to cake?” ---

“Ignore all the papers on the-- what’s supposed to be-- dining table. I’m the worst at keeping it clean.” You mutter as you type in the code for your front door, ignoring Yoongi’s light laughter because in reality you’re internally thinking about how much of a mess you left the rest of the place. Pushing the door open, you scan the room as Yoongi follows you inside. Incidentally, it’s not that awful, but the table is as much of a disorganized array of papers, notebooks, and other stationary that you knew it would be.

“You can put your backpack on the armchair, or anywhere.” You gesture to your living area, before walking along to the kitchen space on the side opposite the table.

“I’m going to end up falling asleep on the couch if I get too close to it.” Yoongi admits in a joking murmur as he places his bag beside the entrance to your door instead, stretching out his arms when they’re free of the weight.

“Wait, yeah, you’re probably really tired, huh?” You frown as you pull out the cake from the refrigerator, turning to place it on the small island. “I’m sorry, I should’ve let you go home and sleep-” “I’m okay,” He says with a smile, though your frown remains because of sleepiness in his eyes as Yoongi meets you in the kitchen. “Besides I’m just going to make my sleep schedule worse if I let myself go to sleep at two in the afternoon.” He tilts his head, smile tugging on his lips as you continue to frown up at him dissatisfied with the situation. “Quit pouting, I’m okay.”

“I’m not pouting.” You mumble, averting your gaze to the cake, fingers lazily playing with the container’s lid. The movement halts as Yoongi’s chuckling rings in your ears followed by his thumb prodding the plush of your cheek, calling your eyes back to his.

“You’re literally pouting.” Yoongi’s voice is quieter than it needs to be, despite its playful intonation as he studies your expression with gleaming fondness seemingly in his irises. You tighten your lips into a line, listening to the silence while the imaginary sound of your heart tries to pretend it’s accelerating audibly. “I can sleep later; I wanted to see you, Y/N, it’s not a big deal.” His arm falls back to his side as Yoongi looks to the container, catching the pink frosting’s pigment visible through the blur of the container’s texture. “Don’t judge me if I eat this entire thing, by the way.”

“Are you hungry?” Your soft tone is contrastingly teasing paired with a smile as Yoongi makes a tiny unintelligible noise followed by a mumble of falling asleep when they served food on the plane. You poke your finger into his side, giggling instantly as he jerks from you and grabs your hand. His eyes are wide, startled when he looks back at you, appearing utterly and dramatically offended that you tickled him beneath his ribcage. “Grilled cheese sound good?”

A grilled cheese layered with deli meat and quickly sauteed veggies and a full slice of cake make Yoongi sigh with contentment as he relaxes back into your couch. You watch with amusement as the amount of carbohydrates weigh down his eyes more than before. Chewing on the final bite of cake he insisted you had to eat as well or else it wouldn’t be a real celebration, you set your empty plate to the coffee table clattering its edge barely against Yoongi’s. “You and Namjoon are great at cooking.”

“It was just a sandwich.” You play off the compliment, thinking back to the first year of Namjoon’s cafe opening where you helped him out a lot more than nowadays that it is settled.

“The best one ever.” Yoongi goes on, eyes closed while he lounges back on the cushion, smiling when he hears you scoff in disbelief, yet with gratitude. The show’s sound lingers in the background of your perception, as you ponder calling him a cab so Yoongi could go properly rest. “You know you still haven’t told me about how the meeting with Yerin went.”

In the moment Yoongi brings up the topic you’ve done entirely well to avoid so far, you bite onto your bottom lip, shifting your stare aimlessly back to the television. Telling Yoongi that you’ve practically quit your job with no plan on how to get back on your feet afterward sounds like a way to get him to think you’re a little bit crazy, or at least very careless. When Namjoon found out he spent about ten minutes going back and forth from congratulating you without fervent emotion and staring at you like he was just as confused about what you would do as well.

You didn’t really want to go through that again, even if it is warranted due to their worry.

A hum vibrates your lips, thinking of a way to get him to altogether forget about this subject. Maybe if you put on a rain asmr playlist he’d fall asleep and you could abandon the country for a week to figure out an excuse of why you’re irrationally spoken decision in the meeting won out over something more civil. And resembling a continued livelihood.

“Was it bad after all?” Yoongi shifts on the couch beside you, legs coming up to sit criss cross as he faces you to better gauge your emotions. “You said you’d tell me about it when I got back since it wasn’t a big deal, but,” A tiny laugh leaks out with a contrasting mixture of nervous and attempt to keep the conversation’s ambience light-hearted. “Maybe not?”

“There’s just not much to say,” You begin vaguely, fingers in your lap fidgeting with one another as you figure out how to go about speaking, “They weren’t interested in changing my contract anymore than giving me a larger percentage of royalties so,” You shrug as the words trail away, thinking that you have no actual reason to find this difficult to admit. Yoongi wouldn’t be angry or judge you, but it felt embarrassing to say. Considering how financially secure your career at SoundWave keeps you, how could you just pull away from that to practically start over from the ground up?

“Ah,” Yoongi head nods in understanding. You glance towards him, watching him tossle around his locks and appear so groggy and without energy from the ten hour flight home. Yet he still seems intent to pay attention and hear what your situation is like now, to be beside you as you adapt to changes. “So you signed with them again.”

“I didn’t renew the contract.”

Without flinching, your eyes follow Yoongi’s head as it shoots up. No particular shock invades his appearance for a moment, just eyebrows creasing and a mutter, “You didn’t?” It’s as you nod slowly that his eyes begin to widen, lips parting in a shocked circle, then a repeat, “You didn’t.”

You swallow thickly, before cracked, small, practically soundless laughter leaves your lips as you just nod again. “I don’t know what I’m going to do.” Your words are hollow, different from how you casually spoke the facts to Namjoon a week ago. More caught up with the severity. Worried.

“Wait,” Yoongi frowns, rubbing his neck as he connects everything verbally, “They weren’t going to change the contract like you wanted, so you decided not to renew. You’re just going to be there until your contract ends?” Rambling continues along while you just nod in response. Eventually your own hands come up to hold your jaw as you mutter,

“Oh, I fucked up. I messed up, didn’t I?”

“No,” Unconvinced you look at Yoongi whose head shakes instantly, though there’s nothing about how his eyes stare at you that help you believe the response. “No, no-- you deserve credit, Y/N. You really do.”

“I’m not getting credit for anything at SoundWave.” You mutter, letting yourself fall on your side into the couch, straying from Yoongi just so he wouldn’t catch the consistent nervousness invading your expression. “I have to find a company-- work in general for songwriting or production with a blank resume.” You inhale, counting the seconds as the air sits in your lungs.

In the short gap of response you recall how much Yoongi has had to do for you so far. Always comforting your screw ups and dealing with the remnant dissatisfaction in your previous relationship. Now you lie on your couch, ranting your problems again, and hoping for something in response. You don’t do enough for him at all, yet you still lean on him like it’s his job to help you out.

You didn’t want to tell him about the meeting because Yoongi’s nice and he’d give you advice, spend his energy worrying for you as well. You shouldn’t misuse his kindness, especially when he has plenty of other responsibilities for his own job. You exhale the air, scooting further from him to rest your head on the plush of the armrest, “Yoon, just forget it. I’ll figure it out on my own somehow, you don’t need to listen to all of this crap.”

Yoongi blinks, frowning in dissatisfaction of the apparent worry, and your misplaced desire to push him out of your affairs for fear of it being annoying. “I’m not obligated, Y/N.” He waits a second to hear a response but receives nothing more than your legs curling slightly towards your chest. His hand presses into the couch, torso arching as Yoongi scoots to lean over, “What’s wrong with telling me?”

“I always rant about things to you.” Your eyes evade his own, though you’re very aware of the closer proximity due to the shadow he casts over you. “And you’re always, like, I guess accommodating to all the problems I have, and I bet it’s so old by now. You’re tired from your plane ride and I’m just stressing you out more.”

“You have to get this out of your head that you’re troubling me because of any of this, angel.” Yoongi’s voice resembles starlight, and the sentiment exuding shines in little spurts across your senses. Your mouth tightens into a line, just returning the slightest glance because you’re unsure why he’s this sweet to you. “I can’t imagine how nerve-wracking this is for you, but it’s okay to let people help you.”

“Do-” You cut yourself off, sighing as you head shakes a little. It’s past the time when you should be asking what you want to ask, but it feels acceptable to go on as Yoongi simply stays silent. To help encourage you further, his free hand rest overtop of yours, working to cast warmth. “Do you think I messed up, Yoon?”

Despite the uncertainty, despite this being the biggest decision you could have made for your career, the line of questioning doesn’t cause Yoongi a lot of thought. One could blame the blind optimism or inherent positivity of his closeness to you that makes him assume your success from here on is sure, but he doesn’t think that deeply about it. After all that you’ve created and produced musically, he simply believes everything will be okay for you, so he shakes his head. Smiling gently as his hand squeezes yours,  he says all you could want to hear in that moment,

“Not at all. You stood up for yourself. That’s never wrong.”

It takes only a moment for a smile to begin flowering on your face, more on account of Yoongi’s convicted gaze that maintains a softness that you’re starting to believe is an unconscious talent of his. Nodding slightly, you sigh letting yourself heed his perspective, if only as a means to make yourself try and think as optimistically. In the very least, if you were able to make a career out of music, albeit not under the best circumstances, then you have as much of a chance to do it again.

“Maybe I always tell you everything because you always say something to make me happier.” The audible ponder causes a tiny prickling of heat to crawl along the back of Yoongi’s neck then flourish more so as you shift beneath him, properly looking up at him with a sincere smile. The situation between your bodies travels closer to the forefront of his mind, but Yoongi’s cheeks speckle with pink only because of your words’ effect.

“I’m glad you think that.” Yoongi speaks quietly, rich timbre touched with a fluster. You nearly giggle at the fact, but the candylike tone of his proceeding admission causes your chest to swell, “I’ll always try to make you feel better, whenever you need me to.”

His words are sweet like honey, inciting summer to crawl along your complexion. You swallow nothing, just finding the gaze he returns to your eyes completely entrapping, but more so like that of a hug. Your heart could gush from just the pleasantness of his voice.

“Yoongi,” You find nothing to say following calling his name, so instead your hands escape his singular grip so that you can cover your face, hiding away the erupting blush. “You’re-” You groan without irritation, prompting Yoongi’s eyes to widen in confusion. His lips curl into an inquisitive frown, altogether taken aback back by your flustered state. “You’re dangerous-- you’re too sweet. I can’t even believe you.”

“What?” He chuckles at your senseless mumbles where you lie beneath him. “Dangerous and sweet, that doesn’t make sense.”

“Right?” You peek from beneath your hands, nodding. “You’re a contradiction.” Masked away from his view is your smile as Yoongi continues in chuckles. You feel his body growing limp, likely tired from holding himself up on one arm for the duration of the conversation, and then sleepy on account of his earlier plane ride. “You should take a little nap, at least. I’ll wake you up, promise.”

“You think so?” He questions your ability to wake him up though not actually intending to challenge you. Yoongi’s body inevitably sinks atop of your own, and he intends to shift away until your hand lies on his bicep comfortably. He bites his lip, suddenly undesiring of moving, especially as you hum an affirmative to his rhetorical ask. “Aren’t I heavy?” A testing whisper. Gauging if you’re as settled with the position as he finds himself to be.

“No, I don’t think you are.” You brush away his nerves unknowingly, finally finding your own courage to let your free hand mesh very gently into his bleached locks. Trying to soothe him into a quick slumber you guide your fingertips play around rhythmically, only ceasing for a moment as Yoongi’s waist shifts just so that he can rest more comfortably. Also ensuring that the majority of his body weight doesn’t press onto you, but that’s about all he can manage until the ministrations of your fingers in his hair lull him out completely.

---

“What are you so worried about?” Yoongi stares blankly at the computer screen while Hoseok’s question on speaker phone rings through his ears. Analyzing the final touches on the side project of potential songs he’s made with you over the past couple of months, he finds himself unsettled looking at them. Your name brightly pixelated in parenthesis beside each title, and it only serves to irritate Yoongi to continue seeing it.

Not that he ever planned to release these songs, but now that they’re done and he’s well into consideration for what could come for you at the end of the month when your contract is officially finished, Yoongi can’t avoid the negative association of their presence in his computer’s library.

“She doesn’t know what she’s going to do, and even if she’s as talented as she is, it’s fucking hard to get any noteworthy company to give her chance, Hoseok.” Yoongi sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his index finger. “I’m worried about her; she already shouldn’t be having to start over, but I can’t do anything to help her, and I couldn’t do anything to help you either.”

There’s a falter of replies, both parties finding themselves surprised at the final piece of the outburst.

“Yoongi-”

“I should’ve helped you.” The conversation shifts back into stagnation. Yoongi sighs again, rubbing his face as the expected reply comes after a long pause.

“I told you me getting fired is my own fault. You know the CEO already had crap against me. The situation with Seulgi just sealed the deal for him.” Hoseok’s voice reasons factually, as if those two simple reasons are enough to say being laid off from their old company makes any type of sense. “I don’t blame you for anything.”

“I do.” Yoongi doesn’t know if his voice is loud enough for Hoseok to hear, but he doesn’t repeat the admission. Recalling how simple it would’ve been to defend his friend, Yoongi taps his finger on his desk, then glances back up at his screen where your presence remains like a reminder of a year ago. Yet different from that time.

Yoongi feels no worry about his own career while he stares in thought of what to do about your own. Where he had to consider his actions in light of his stoic reputation in the public, he doesn’t think about that in the present. His manager would if Yoongi brought the issue up, likely be ready to shut down anything related to helping you in the eyes of the media and fans. Risking the long-running persona of SUGA for some unfortunate songwriter who made a misguided choice is impossible. Reasonably speaking, SUGA can’t help you without sticking the name in the middle of a potential scandal.

“It’s kind of funny hearing you so worried about her considering you only became friends from having to pretend to date.” Hoseok disrupts the stream of thought, bringing Yoongi back to reality. “She went and met you at the airport a couple of days ago, right? Saw it all over twitter.”

“Yeah,” Yoongi nods, then furrows his eyebrows at the memory of loud people and camera lenses in every direction around you as he walked into the lobby. “They made her go. Isn’t that fucked up? What if something happened?” He rubs his jaw, feet pushing him languidly side to side in his seat. “She’s not used to crowds like that-- it makes me mad-” Hoseok’s laughter stiffens Yoongi’s shoulders. Wondering what he said, Yoongi whines to cut into the laughter, “What?”

“You’re just really fond of her, huh?” Hoseok’s light voice makes Yoongi go quiet. Lips tighten into a line as he goes on. “I thought from the pictures that you became an actor overnight, but I guess that was really you being protective.”

Confused, Yoongi tilts his head in thought, trying to recall if he seemed particularly overbearing in the airport, but can only come to the conclusion that he had been trying to ensure you felt secure in the intense environment. He crosses his arms over his chest, humming when Hoseok questions aloud if the line went dead.

“What do you mean fond of her?”

“What?” Hoseok laughs again, but more so from amusement, spinning around in his desk chair on his side of the line, barely missing a collision with his knee on the corner of the table. “Bro, you know what I mean-”

“Wait,” Yoongi takes hold of his phone as loud thumping hits against his door followed by the ring of the doorbell. “I’ll talk to you later, I need to go.” Rolling his eyes at the dramatic, high-pitched whine Hoseok sends through the line, Yoongi ends the call, abandoning his phone on the desk as he gets up. Dotting through a quick list of potential visitors, he doesn’t recall anyone supposed to come, and knows it isn’t you because of your knowledge of the passcode.

“Hey,” One of the other producers greets Yoongi with a smile as he opens the door. A large, orange envelope  in his hand waves into the air, “I was just bringing you some mail from the lobby while I was on the way to my desk.” He explains casually, prompting a nod from Yoongi albeit with smothered confusion on why the random producer is doing him a favor when they’ve barely ever worked together.

“Oh, thanks for that.” Yoongi sets aside the speculation, instead voicing appreciation as he takes the delivery.

“Yeah,” The guy’s reply falters, but Yoongi shakes it off to step back into his studio until the exchange continues further, “Actually, you’re close with Y/N now, right? Is it true she got fired?”

Inquisitive to the ear, but something deeper about the tone makes Yoongi’s eyebrows crease. He looks back towards the producer who meets his eyes with a now forced smile. Deciphering the intention as something negative, Yoongi’s head tilts in consideration of what he could be trying to get at. “Where’d you here that from?” “What? Oh,” He stutters, glancing towards the door frame as he shrugs, “You know, just gossip and all… I was just curious since she gets the most work, you know?”

Yoongi inhales remaining silent as he comes to understand this producer to be similar of a vulture. Likely others too are interested in receiving more work following your inevitable departure, but the insinuation of you being let go instead of quitting unsettles him. Irritating to hear. “I mean, it’s not just me curious,” He glances again away from Yoongi this time down the hallway where his eyes grow wide for a split second upon recognition, “Oh, like Jimin here-- hey, you’re wondering if Y/N got fired too, aren’t you?”

Yoongi steps a small step forward so he can lean his head and view down. Jimin appears confused at the question, hands in his pockets like he’d simply been walking to wherever.

“You heard she got fired, didn’t you-”

“Stop saying that.” Yoongi cuts into the producers loud voice, slicing them with an annoyed grit clinging to his words. “She didn’t get fired.” His arms cross over one another, envelope hitting against his side as he does so. Jimin’s movement causes Yoongi’s gaze to shift back towards him, expression etched with his upset temperment from the rude gossiping.

Jimin doesn’t say anything, slow steps like that of someone on a stroll, intending to walk past them both. The producer shifts a little distance away from Yoongi’s calm and heavy glare, watching with a stupor at the disposition that originally he hadn’t expected as a reaction to his questioning.

“It was just a question,” He mutters then nearly bites his tongue when Yoongi snaps his eyes back, “I just think it’d be pretty good for the company to vary more, that’s all-- she just works in the background anyways, it’s not like anyone would notice.”

“Hey,” Jimin interrupts the trail of irritated rebuttals about to leave Yoongi’s lips, eyes fixating into a glare towards the fidgeting producer, “She does more for the company than any of us do, so why don’t you stop talking shit and go actually work on something?”

“I,” The producer bites his lip, glancing nervously between Jimin and Yoongi, before nodding his head, “Yeah,” He turns on his heel, then startles backwards a few paces towards Jimin, eyes widening. “Oh, Y/N-”

The tension in Yoongi’s expression releases, stepping forward to let his studio door shut, revealing you barely more than a few feet from the three of them with two members of a girl group looking increasingly shocked and curious at the conversation at hand. He stays quiet, wondering how much of the guy’s stupidity you heard, but as he takes in your narrowed eyes he can freely assume enough.

“I didn’t get fired, I quit.” You say simply, voice devoid of civility. Glancing from the completely embarrassed producer to Yoongi then Jimin, you just sigh. Though you were aware this questioning would come eventually, you expected something more decent than gossip about people wanting to shift into your spot the second you leave the company. The two girls around you voice shocked questioning, but you pay no mind to them, “Next time you want to try gossiping about me, just ask me yourself; this is so ridiculous going behind my back for your own selfish gain.”

Jimin steps to the side as the producer nearly collides with him as he paces back another step, “You’re right, I’m sorry-- really.” You just scoff, watching him quickly scamper down the hallway so nothing more could be said.

“Wait, Y/N, you’re really leaving?” The youngest of the girl group members asks you with surprise, frown covering up her face. You just rub your face, nodding,

“Yeah, sorry; I have stuff to do.” You mumble in reply feeling a headache ready to come on from this whole stupid situation that is no doubt going to become increasingly invasive as this situation gets talked about around the company. You step towards Yoongi, turning to smile apologetically to the two girls, “It’s not a big deal, sorry.”

You hear the familiar sound of a clicking keypad and find the door opening as Yoongi takes the hint to let you inside. He steps inside first, holding the door open with his hand, as you go to follow and find yourself looking towards Jimin. Devoid of much expression his head just nods in a silent greeting to you and your find yourself doing the same without really noticing, going on to murmur quietly, “Thanks for speaking up for me, Jimin.”

Then you enter into Yoongi’s studio, realizing as the door clicks shut that Jimin finally did what you thought he never wanted to. Where in the past he’s only ever stood by silently while the company uses you to its own benefit, he today defended you without any need. Though you have no way of reasoning why he suddenly found it necessary to speak on your behalf, you find the fact that it occured a startling mixture of thankfulness and comfort.

Only it came too late.

if you enjoy please, please let me know via ask, comment, rb with tags– however ! i’d just really appreciate feedback 🥺 i hope you enjoy the series, i’m working really hard on it! : )

tag list (send an ask to be added): @jaiuneamesolitaiire​ @tsvkino-usagi​ @xionysus​​ @baebyjoonie​ @honeyoongles​

[hecohansen31]

Angel:

Hawthorne! Michael Langdon+Apparently Innocent! Reader.

(A/N): Hello there, lovelies!

I am finally back with this series, with a chapter that I personally love and appreciate, mostly because it is about something I have personally experienced (the discriminaion for being considered innocent, not getting rawed by Michael Langdon... if I had experienced that, we all know well that my smut would be much better).

I honestly hate when people link the concept of being innocent and inexperienced to being either “too little for certain things” or they fetishize it annoyingly, because I mean everybody does things at its own space and movement and you shouldn’t be sticking your pervert nose into it.

(Unless you are Michael Langdon, obviously).

Also two special mention: @avesatanormalpeoplescareme and @langdvnshepherd who inspired a bit the little Michael you see here, I honestly love their interpretation of fuckboy! Michael Langdon, it gives me life and excitment so please check out both the “FuckBoy Saga” and “A Change Of Heart”)

After this being said, if you want to leave a comment, reblog this fic or just like it, know that my heart will luterally birst with happiness because I am always curious to know what others think of what I write!

If you want to read the previous chapter, you find it here!

SUMMARY: Being an “angel” isn’t easy, but hey... when Michael Langdon is around you might enjoy it more than you thought...

WORDS: 1,1 K.

WARNINGS; Rough Unprotected Sex (please guys, it takes you luterally a millisecond to wrap it, and avoid unwanted pregnancies and STDs, so DO IT!) Oral Sex (Male Reeceiving), Dirty Talk, Mention of Nudity, A Bit of Blasphemy.

She had always been dubbed “angel”.

A way to keep her tamed and shy.

A child who could be taken easily advantage of.

Smiles over venomous words, shiny naïve eyes over sultry looks and covering dress instead of see-through tops and short skirts.

That was her life, laid down before her since that freaking nickname had been firstly used for her.

It had its ups: nobody would mess with her, taken aback by her virtue, exposed through arts of gentleness and kindness, as a true martyr, happy of her tragic destiny and she would always hide under the premise of a true angel with a golden halo.

But it had more downs than anything: people thought she was naïve, hence stupid, taking advantage of her and when she spoke back, they either laughed it off, ripping what they needed from her hands or they just replied with anger at her, playing it all on her role as if she somehow had left them unsatisfied just because she didn’t follow her role.

People also had this kind of feeling of taboo whenever “spicy” arguments were discussed within her earing range, as if she was some kind of grown-up child which should be protected and shielded from anything horrible.

It had actually proved ineffective, because this shielding had just caused her to feel double the pain, whenever something truly horrific happened to her: her first break-up, the first drop of blood she saw from her body during the first cycle, the harassment she had first experienced from a drunken man…

And finally… sex…

Sex seemed something that was off the limits for her: men thought she was some kind of genderless creature, probably without any kind of genitalia under her or if she had… they were probably sealed like those of a  barbie, and this seemed a turn off for many guys, immediately scared by her premises, the gentleness in her eyes and the kindness in the curve of her mouth.

They put her on a pedestal and let her stay there, meanwhile they fucked their way to the bottom of the pit, as if she was some Saint worth of worshipping but nothing earthly or carnal should have met her skin, as if she risked to be tainted.

But there were other people who found it exciting.

They linked the fact that she was innocent, at least in her appearance, to her being demure and submissive, in other words: they were perverts who liked the thought of a young and sweet thing obeying every order, they gave her.

It was almost as if they thought that she hid something under her pleated skirts, alongside fetishizing her innocence, as if it was a prize they wanted to win, at all costs.

And she wasn’t that.

She had desires of her own, desires she had found out on her own, satisfying them barely with her fingers, fiction and porn (because she did watch porn, and owned a vibrator).

(The only time somebody had stumbled onto her wand, they had immediately assumed it was Madison’s, her roommate).

But none of that mattered when people called her “angel”.

And when Michael Langdon, the Boy Wonder, Hawthorne perfect student, with an amazing pendant to get under each witch’s skin had taken up to use that nickname, she knew she was doomed.

Because, whereas others were saying it with admiration, he said with a smirk which said: “I know what it is under that innocent exterior”.

But he didn’t say it the way other perverts thought they could see what hid under her own eyes.

He knew what she hid.

As if he recognized in her some deep darkness, he himself shared, in the darkest part of his soul.

If he owned one.

Because of this, she had decided to confront him, tell him that he knew nothing about her and to stop giving her those dirty looks.

She had entered his room to say this, not to be laid over his lap, her back against his front, his dick pushing in and out of her, meanwhile he kept her legs apart, spread enough for him to push himself in and out of her perfectly, meanwhile light kisses were peppered on her neck and dirty talk was whispered in her ear.

“I knew it from the moment I saw you… you wanted to get fucked hard” a particular hard thrust was delivered to her, hitting deep inside her cervix and a loud moan exited her mouth, meanwhile she pushed her nails into Michael’s hands, which she was gripping like her life depended on them.

Which kind of did, since he could give her salvation and damnation, with just a single shift of his hips and a smirk of his clever mouth.

“I saw you… I still remember you wore white when we first met… no panties, I could already sniff your arousal, and then… they called you angel…” he made her turn her face, puling on her hair, so he could look at her in her face, making her blush and divert her gaze from his own eyes, but he just slapper her, ordering her to look at him “… they don’t know you are nothing but a dirty whore, in need of a good fuck”.

He had been edging her for so long, and she just couldn’t help but nod.

She had dreamed of anything that Michael was giving her in that moment: the rough primal sex nobody thought she might dream with only her fingers between her legs.

Definitely not the type angels dreamed about…

And he was clearly demon to know the darkest of her interests.

“… or maybe you are just my twisted angel… the one who will go down on his knees just for a taste of my cock” and he pushed her down from his hips, his cock exiting her with a sudden squelching the sound so vulgar that she couldn’t help the throb between her legs.

He turned her around, manhandling her towards his dick, leading her by her hair to choke on it, immediately gags escaping her throat, roughly fucked by the thrust of Michael, although slowly they were becoming more and more sloppy… till he finished deep down in her throat, leaving her a mess of tangled limbs, sweaty and with his cum dripping down her mouth.

She was a total mess, an unsatisfied mess.

But he looked at her as if she as a vision, brushing (gently for the first time during that night) his seed away from her lips, meanwhile another hand sneaked between her legs caressing her ruined sacred place softly, a slow wave of pleasure brushing against it, with each ministration he graced her with.

Swiftly he gripped her head, the violence in his eyes coming back, but dulled, maybe because of the hazy doses of pleasure going through his body:

“We will keep this our dirty secret, angel”.

@so-langdon @1-800-bitchcraft @emmyrosee @blakewaterxx@rocketgirl2410 @ladynuwanda @w0nder-marie @bitchchatter@eternalnostalgia @chirpdesu @dreamxcollide @head-full-of-thougts @lonely-cloud @im-the-music-whore @orendamill @ayeayecaptaingally@loveofmonsters @kleineshaschen @dramapenguinthe3rd @drama-penguins@vampirefairyestelle @youshouldbescared @hplotrfan @a-exmrie@meandmystrangehabits @lovelylangdonx  @britishmoonchild @michael-langdon-appreciation (I keep tagging you and please let me know if it is fine, but I know that you liked the previous chapter!) @mega-combusken @frenchbread4ever @lovelylangdonx @confettucini @what-the-hecku @langdonsplaytoy @saviorinsilk @ terka250 @dandycandy75 @head-full-of-thougts @wayhaughtsearp @ freudian-bitch @cherrysoda-com @orendamill @loveableasshole @sona-blues  @xoxocrystal17 @bish-ima-clown @ anana166 @l luv2red247 @idespac @drama-penguins @annielovebug22 @literary-monster @g4ost @ sinistrasinistermacbeth @ psychowriter2702 @rubyeru @breakingsupernaturlbad101 @ bighairedshorty