#i had to give him shitty long broom hair just to check that it looks like locs and like. it does. that's him officer! wh

[harbingersecho]

... and however hard I try to integrate Iʼll always remain alien

lowkey inspired by thiss

[maybe-your-left]

ASK FRIDAY - CREATE A SCENARIO: roommates trope with Kylo

Due to some last minute room swapping and late registering Reader and Kylo end up in the same dorm but they're mad about it and hate each other (cue intense sexual tension)

Dorm room, Snowed in, evening time like 6

The heater/power has just gone out and Kylo knows a few ways to get warm...only if Readers up for it...

been working on this for FOREVER ANON. 

I loved it! 

Crushed

TW: NSFW, dirty talk, dom/sub vibes, exhibitionism, kinda fluff, Kylos not that nice and is an entitled man.

Oh yeah, you fuckin’ slut. 

Yes-Yes-Yes! 

‘M gonna cum all over your fucking tits.

You slapped the wall next to your bed, hard. 

“Can you guys keep it down! It’s 1 in the morning!” 

Muffled voices came through the paper-thin wall, sounding like bodies moving to the floor. Good, you thought, at least he will get rug burn from the shitty carpet, might keep him from fucking everything that moves. 

A hard knock on the wall pulled you from that thought. 

“Go read your fucking Bible! I’m trying to get my dick wet!” 

“Please!” 

“Why don’t you go get fucked!?” 

Some giggled came through next, followed by more muffled whispering. You whined loudly, trying to ignore the sounds of him fucking whatever bimbo your dormmate had in his lair. Shoving your face into your pillow, muffling your tears and wails. 

You turned on your TV, drowning out the final act of his performance. Fingers poised over your keyboard to file another noise complaint with the RA… not like they ever helped you. The last time they intervened they left with a black eye and broken nose, shrugging for you to sort it out yourselves. 

A door slammed shut, you let out a sigh of relief. 

At least he wasn’t a cuddler. 

You climbed out of bed, tip-toeing to your door to take a peek of whatever slut found her way into his room this evening. The special lady was a new cinderella every fucking week, he didn’t even try to know their names. You heard him admit it once in class to his friends, saying he called them all ‘baby’ so he wouldn’t have to learn. 

You peeked out the door, blinking from the harsh fluorescent lighting of your dingy dorm halls. The walls were a screaming white, yellowing from years of shoddy cleaning. You tried to clean your room when you first came to school, but it was too disgusting. 

A non-smoking dorm, ha. Everyone smoked, especially your neighbor. 

“Shouldn’t you be in bed creeper?” 

You jumped at his voice, exhaling harshly through your nose. You steeled your features, caught red-handed looking for his latest prey. Crossing your arms defensively, not that there was anything to hide. You were in your ratty pj’s, they were on sale at Old Navy a few years ago and you never threw them away even though they barely fit anymore. 

“If you’re so interested in being a cuck,” he grinned at you, flashing his crooked teeth, “I would love to have you over for an encore, I’m sure you’d love to watch me in action.” 

“Buzz off, Ren.” 

“Ooo, angry tonight,” he smirked, now stepping out of his door frame. You choked a little at his appearance, no shirt on, basketball shorts barely hanging off his hips. Dangerously low, seriously, if he took one wrong move they would be on the floor. His chest was covered in fresh scratch marks, no doubt from his latest victim, a sheen of sweat glistening under the lights. 

Fuck, he was good-looking. 

But he was terrible. 

“Ahem,” he cleared his throat, daring you to stare back at him. 

You gulped, caught again. You were better than that, you were just tired from being kept up since ten with his version of ‘love-making’. 

“My eyes are up here cupcake,” he stepped forward. Pushing you back into your doorframe, almost inside your sanctuary. “If you ever decide you want to break your vow of chastity, I’m right next door.” 

“Step away from me, Kylo.” 

He cocked his brow, “I love when you’re mean, come on. Let’s see if kitty has claws.” 

You bared your teeth, fists balling under your underarms, “Not even if you were the last man on Earth.” 

He shrugged, backing away from you. 

“Deal, bitch.” 

You moved to shut your door on him, “Go away.” 

“See you in class, bright and early.” 

------ 

When you imagined leaving for college, it was different. 

Saying goodbye to your parents, packing your car with whatever small valuables you owned. Determined to make a name for yourself all the way across the country, no friends or family, truly on your own. You imagined everything would be different, the dorm would be filled with new and friendly faces. 

RA’s greeting you as you parked outside, giving you a tour and maybe a group lunch with all your floormates. Getting to know each other, maybe even going to some new-student orientation event they planned for the newbies. 

Classes were smooth, acing all your major requirements. Professors were kind and ready to help you at any moment, letting your artistic vision flow through your body every morning with your 8 AM yoga class. 

But no. 

Instead, you registered late. 

Your classes all at the worst times, bright and early. 

Second rate dorm, COED even… smelly dudes between your single bedroom which would be better defined as a broom closet. Burping and fucking on both sides of you while you tried to study. Your major requirement classes were boring and filled with pretentious art students who thought they were the next Picasso. 

Professors didn’t care if you lived or died, only focusing on the bell schedule because they couldn’t control what the freshmen did in their classes. 

Your options for clubs were limited, either join a sport or a cult. 

And worst of all. 

Kylo Ren. 

He was your neighbor, signed up late just like you. You actually arrived at the same time, he pushed you down on your ass in the lobby so he could be checked in first. Calling you a clumsy bitch, only for you both to be handed keys to the same floor. Right next to each other, sharing a flimsy wall. 

On top of that, he was an art major like you. 

And since he registered late, he was in almost every class. 

Even yoga! 

He took your mat the first day, leaving you in tears in the hallway. He apologized afterward, handing it back to you before storming off to be with his beefy upper-class friends. Any moment he could, Ren would humiliate you. Trying to push your buttons, whistling at you when you had to cross the hallway to the showers. Tripping you when you had your hands full, making fun of you for hanging out with your sparse group of friends. 

And when he found out you were annoyed with him making noise, he latched onto it. 

One week he decided to recite the entire Phantom of the Opera, just because you mentioned in class that you loved that play. 

He did every part, even the musical scores, you could’ve sworn he did it with a megaphone on the wall, just to spite you. 

Your parents told you ‘he just likes you, he’s a boy.’ 

No! 

That’s not how people express feelings, at least not healthy people. 

Your alarm clock blared on your nightstand, you didn’t sleep so it didn’t bother you. Letting out a heavy sigh of defeat, Ren ruined another night for you, a night you’d never get back. Of precious, precious sleep that you desperately deserved. 

Slipping on some plum leggings and a sports bra. No one gave a fuck about your outfit in your early morning class, as long as you went with clothes on. You popped on your headphones, trying to drone out the noise of Ren’s music through the wall. He liked to blast some god-awful music every morning. 

Today, it was an old Black Veil Brides album! 

You made it out of the dining hall, snatching a muffin for breakfast. Smiling at some guys you knew, waving at your friend Rose as you stormed off to the gym. The cold chill of Winter biting at your nose, it was too cold to not wear a full outfit. But there was no time, with Ren keeping you up all night and classes back to back, you didn’t have time to fuck around with dressing up. 

Ren ran in after you, laughing with his friends. Big nose all red from the frost, his hair looked frozen to his scalp, probably showered beforehand. You rolled out your mat, trying to stretch while he bragged about the pussy he got last night. Making a big show of your complaining, saying you were desperate to fuck him based on your whining. 

You rolled your eyes when he planted next to you, “Good morning, you ran out in a hurry.” 

“I didn’t want to be late,” you sneered, not giving him the time of day, still stretching your back into child's-pose. 

“How are we supposed to walk together if you run away from me, cupcake?” 

You scoffed, shooting him an icy glare. Despite him grinning at you like the happiest man on Earth, god, you needed to stop giving him a reaction. That would shut him up if you didn’t give him the attention he is clearly lacking from his parental figures. 

“Good morning class,” your teacher greeted you calmly, “I hope you’re all doing well. As you all know, this next week is finals week, I’m offering makeup classes to those of you who need to make up some credit hours. We are also hosting some meditation if you need time to relax between classes.” 

Next to you, Ren leaned towards your mat, setting his hand right behind your back. You didn’t have to open your eyes to know he was hovering. Ready to devour you like a piece of meat.

“Hey,” he chuckled. 

You stayed quiet, pushing back into his arm so he would move. Ren stayed put, purring in your ear, “Did you sleep well?” 

“Move off my mat, Ren.” 

He smirked down at you, “You seem stressed, do you want me to help by fucking your brains out.” 

You shot off your mat, effectively knocking him onto his back. Laughing loudly in a relatively silent room of students trying to center themselves. He grinned from the floor, hands up in the air in defense, “I’m just offering to help you, Jesus!” 

“Just,” you pointed in his face, hair falling out of your ponytail. Everyone was staring at you, even your instructor. Shocked you were yelling, you barely spoke in class, at the scariest person in your class. 

“Just, leave me alone.” 

------

Ren avoided you for the rest of the week, mostly. 

Still had his nightly fuck-more subdued though, you had on noise-canceling headphones to try and focus on studying. There were still so many classes to get to, and you wouldn’t be finished until the day before Winter break… you were desperate to get this over with. 

You missed your family, the plane ticket itself cost you a whole month of meals. 

Of course, you would do fine in your classes, it was just the motivation to get there. Every morning you glared at Ren when he greeted you in yoga, still standing next to you like a menacing shadow. 

This morning was no different, only you skipped class to study in the library. Bundled up in your winter coat, long black scarf, hair in a lazy braid, and thermal leggings on. The wind had picked up last night, bringing on an ice storm that wasn’t expected until late next week. You walked on treacherous sidewalks, dodging all the other students who were seeking the warmth of the library. 

You settled inside, sprawling your books and laptop on an old desk. Grabbing out a few sketch pads so you could finish up some pieces that were due in a couple hours. Most of your finals in art were ‘unconventional’ which meant the professor wanted to see what you were motivated to work on during the year. 

For yours, you had decided to draw the people you saw on campus. 

Studying their faces, mannerisms, languages while they were in an organic environment. It was a great piece, and one of your professors was very interested in showcasing it in a show. You were proud, it wasn’t large but it was important for you and you wanted it to be perfect before turning it in. 

Your pastels were spread out, fingertips smudged and stained from charcoal, a few lines on your face and brow from forgetting about the streaks. There was this one person you couldn’t finish, it was one of your friends from last week. She was laughing and holding a drink, the expression wide and full of emotion but it was hard for you to capture without her being there. 

But you steeled yourself, you weren’t leaving this spot until you finished her. 

“You smudged that dude's face,” a low voice rumbled behind you. A finger pointing down at the top left corner, “Stop-don’t touch it.” 

You moved to swat the hand away, not wanting some random guy to ruin your piece with their grubby fingers. Recentering yourself, he wasn’t smudged, he was just in the corner so it looked like it wasn’t finished… what did he know, anyway? 

“You didn’t draw me?” 

Now you stopped, why you didn’t recognize the timbre of his voice was ridiculous. 

You let out a long sigh, “Please, don’t touch the canvas, Kylo. It’s not ready, yet.” 

The chair that housed your backpack slid out next to you, your things tossed on the ground carelessly before Ren sat. You scooted away from him, he smelled like he just showered. Judging by his wet hair you were probably right… “What are you doing?” 

He shrugged, fiddling with one of your notebooks. Flipping through pages carelessly, “I don’t know-you weren’t in yoga so.” 

“So,” you gave him a weird look, “You stalked me to the library?” 

“There’s no reason to go to yoga if I can’t bother you,” he flashed a smile, dropping it slightly when he saw you weren’t playing back with him. 

Silence fell over you both, the only noises the heat kicking in around the scuffling of boots and shoes to face the weather again. 

“I like your piece,” he gestured to your work, “For drawing, right?” 

You nodded stiffly, not enjoying his friendly tone. Like he wasn’t your demon neighbor who made it his job to annoy you and had for the past four months of your life. Ren shifted again, now leaning on the table with his cheek resting on his forearm. Looking at you with wide eyes, you never took the time to look at his face. 

He had very large eyes that betrayed his emotions. Swimming with flecks of auburn, gold, and some streaks of green, blinking slowly as he studied your canvas. You looked away from him, trying to ignore the urge to draw them, how his long lashes rivaled your own. How his skin was freckled with beauty marks, creases from frowning lined his forehead and nose. You could even make out his stubble, some pieces he must’ve missed the last time he shaved. 

You went back to drawing, no longer focusing on it. Just trying to understand what was happening, your tormentor was a foot away from you. Breathing calmly like a cat laying in a patch of sun. Hunched over the edge, torso too long to rest like a normally proportioned human being, had he always been this big? 

“Wanna get coffee before class?” 

“Huh?” 

You blinked slowly, not registering that he spoke to you. 

Ren leaned off, letting out a big yawn and scratching the back of his neck. 

Yes, definitely a cat. 

“Do you want to get coffee,” he stared blankly, “Before we head to English?” 

You looked down at your mess, then back up at him. Shaking your head softly, voice quiet as a mouse, “No-thank you.” 

He exhaled harshly, “I’m not gonna burn you with it, it’s just coffee.” 

“No, I’m fine,” you said firmer, “I wanna work on this some more.” 

Ren stayed still, probably trying to think of a way to get you to agree with him. You had known him long enough to know he doesn’t like people disagreeing with him. Didn’t have to be a college graduate to see that the man had issues with control, hence terrorizing you all semester. You didn’t want to offer him an olive branch, because he was just doing it as a joke. Probably, waiting until you were calm around him to do something cruel. 

You went back to drawing, listening to him get up and leave you. Mumbling something under his breath about ‘trying to be nice’ before walking out. You shook off the awkwardness, not willing to break down and let him do something nice for you, just because he didn’t ruin your final piece didn’t mean he wouldn’t do something in the future. 

The day was still young. 

------

Oddly enough, Ren didn’t bother you that evening. 

Not even a door slam! 

You almost thought he was dead, but you saw him in the hallway when you were walking to the bathroom. Wrapped in your robe, caddy in hand, he didn’t whistle or try to touch your ass like he normally did. Just a stale smile before closing himself back in his room. 

Not to waste the precious quiet, you went to work packing your bags for your trip tomorrow. Deciding to do a quick load of laundry, your hall was almost empty, so no one would be down there while you waited. 

Piling up your hamper, you threw your pj's and slippers on. Remembering to grab a blanket and your laptop so you could hang out down there while you waited. 

Your friends back home were all excited to see you, ready to hear all about your time away. The boys you met, friends you made, classes, all that. So excited to get home and see your cat, Gremlin, he was all alone without you. Your mom sent you pictures earlier of him curled in your blankets, saying that he knew you were coming home soon. 

Maybe next Fall you could get an apartment, you didn’t want to leave him for another year. 

A washing machine door slammed shut next to you, causing you to jump from your perch atop your own. Faced with Ren, who was doing his laundry in his pjs, or his version of pjs. Giving you another tight-lipped smile before leaning against the far wall. Yawning loudly before sliding down the wall to sit on the floor. 

You ignored him, turning back to your laptop that was playing a crime documentary. Texting some friends to keep your mind from wandering to Ren and why he was in such a mood. 

“Are you leaving tomorrow?” Ren called from his wall. 

You pretended to not hear him, refocusing on the documentary, there was something very interesting happening and you weren’t about to miss how they found the killer's shoe prints in the mud just because Ren was trying to talk to you. 

Then something was thrown at you, and it smelled awful. 

“Oh-my-god!” 

You shot off the washing machine, throwing down the offending garment. Ren was laughing loudly, “Chill out! It was just an old shirt!” 

“How old was it?!” 

He smiled at you from the ground, propping an elbow on his kneecap. One leg stretched out on the tile, you tried to regain a sense of calm, he was just messing with you again. Just take some deep breaths… in-out-in

“Are you leaving tomorrow, after our final?” 

You let out your deep breath, sitting back on the washer. “Yeah,” you paused your show since mister meanie wanted to have a tea party. “I have to get to the airport right after.” 

He hummed, “Same.” 

The washer beeped loudly, echoing in the otherwise empty room. Ren watched you hop off, fixing your shorts which definitely rode up too much. Trying to not flash him your underwear as you bent to move your clothes to a dryer. You cursed when a sock fell from your pile, great.  

“How come we’ve never fucked?” 

Now all your clothes were on the floor. 

Along with Ren, who was staring at you like you were an art exhibit. 

You dragged your clothes back to the washer. There was no way you were finishing now that they touched the dirty floor, no one cleaned down here and just because it looked clean didn’t mean-

A whistle, “You good over there?” 

“Yup.” 

“Okay,” you heard him stretch, popping his joints as he lifted off the floor. You could feel his breath on the back of your neck as he closed in. Almost touching you, no escape, “As I was saying, how come you’ve never let me steal your virginity?” 

You scoffed, “I am not a virgin.” 

Ren pressed into you, pushing you against the washer now. Grinding his hips into your own, you squirmed, trying to dispel every fantasy flooding your brain. Every night you spent listening to him through the wall, imagining just once that it was you. If he weren’t such a monster, you would have gladly laid on your back and let him do whatever he wanted. 

“Nothing?” 

You took a deep breath, placing both palms on the top of the washer. Biting your lip as you silently pleaded for him to let you go, but also continue. You could smell his cologne from this close, how it complimented him so well. Mixing in with his dark aura, you wanted nothing more than to spin around and…

Soon you were doing just that, but not on your own violation. 

Ren had his hands grasping your hips, thumbs slipping under the fabric of your t-shirt to caress your soft skin. Lips capturing your own, you froze in his hold. Unsure of what to do, a part of you wanted to scream and smack him, but the other part loved the smell of his toothpaste. 

He relaxed when you relaxed, your lips still awkwardly locked together. Not opening and allowing for more, but not moving away either. You stared at him, startled to see him looking back at you. Pulling back slightly, you watched his face chase yours. Bringing your lips together a few more times, kissing at the seam. 

You felt his tongue flick for entry, trying to pry your mouth open so he could explore. When you didn’t move he finally huffed in annoyance, “I know it’s your first kiss, but you’re supposed to open your mouth.” 

You groaned, bringing both hands to cradle his cheeks. There was no way he was going to make fun of you, he initiated this so. 

Ren made a muffled noise when you pressed your lips back together. Probably of shock and surprise, because, no. This was not your first kiss, not even your fourth or fifth kiss. Working your tongue skillfully into his mouth, you moaned softly at his taste. Just like you imagined… not that you put much stock into this but… it was wonderful. 

Bringing your fingers to the nape of his neck, tugging on his dark brown hair. Just like you always wanted to, whenever he walked past you with it tied in a bun you dreamt of tearing through it. Ren returned your affection in kind, his left hand moving to the small of your back. Fingers dancing under the waistband of your pajama bottoms. 

You heard him swear when he felt the lace underneath, nestled between your cheeks. Ren slid a hand over the globes of your ass, moving his hips in time with his tongue. Tasting every inch of your mouth, even growling in approval when you sunk your teeth into his bottom lip. 

Petting and groping each other against the washing machines, the sound of you swapping spit barely heard over the rumble of your clothes. Ren had gotten sick of grinding against your hip bone, pulling away from you for a moment. Shushing your pathetic whimpers, he hooked the hand not cupping your ass behind your left knee. 

Hiking it over his hip, opening your legs up. Allowing him to assault your center with his straining erection, oh you could picture it now. How easy it would be to just let him slip inside you. 

Right here, in the laundry room. 

*Beep* 

You pulled back roughly, barely able to unsuction your lips from Rens' own. A string of spit connecting your kiss-bitten lips, he looked at you with pleading eyes. Grinding himself against you harder, pulling a few soft mewls from your throat. 

“I need to switch my clothes,” you croaked.

He nodded, shakily setting your limb back on the floor and backing away. You watched through your own lust-filled state as he trembled. Walking back to his far wall, a hand cupping his cock through his sweats. Your throat clicked as you took in a much-needed breath, doing what you said you would. 

Setting them in the dryer, all the more aware of his eyes watching your every move. 

Not sparing him a glance when you sat back on the washer. 

Turning on your laptop once again to watch your crime documentary. 

Ignoring the throbbing between your legs, his deep breaths, and your shaking limbs. 

------

The TV’s at the airport all said the same thing, “Record snowfall this winter, right before the holidays! Experts say that we will be lucky to keep power until it passes. Our friends on the west coast are enjoying a white Christmas, while we’re stuck in the North Pole.” 

All flights have been grounded until further notice. 

Stuck. 

You could barely make it back to your dorm without crashing. 

Bursting into tears several times when you realized you wouldn’t be home until it was over. Wouldn't be able to safely leave your dorm room until it passed, leaving you utterly alone. 

You had emailed your RA letting him know your bad luck, he let the staff know you’d be there so they would have food and water running still. 

But other than that, this was your holiday. 

You slipped on the walk up to your room, sobbing loudly in the halls as you clutched your luggage. No going home, no seeing your friends or family, no Christmas dinner, no personal shower, no Gremlin to sleep on your face. 

Collapsing on your bed, curling yourself in the multitude of pillows and blankets that adorned it. The room had shitty heating, the entire building had shitty heating. The entire month of December you’d been freezing, and no amount of personal heaters could fix this kind of cold. 

You drifted off to sleep after crying for a few hours, letting your parents know what was happening. Setting alerts for earlier flights, anything you could do to get home. You were so tired in fact, that you slept through a power outage. Leaving the entire building to shut down, no backup generators. 

And no heat. 

It wasn’t until you felt yourself being lifted that you woke up to the commotion. 

Squirming in the kidnappers' arms, limbs aching from freezing for a time in your bedroom. The window must’ve cracked open because it was much colder than when you arrived. Your attacker didn’t let you go, growling in your ear to be still. 

Dragging you out of the building, towards a car you didn’t notice when you pulled in. With the snow swirling all around, it was a miracle they could see their own vehicle. You were thrown in the front seat, followed by your luggage tossed in the back. You stayed still, every time you moved it hurt, hypothermia. Common in the New England storms if you were foolish enough to be outside… 

You about passed out when the driver's side door opened, Ren climbed in. Looking just as frozen as you, slamming the door shut and mumbling something as he started his car. You could’ve cried when the engine turned, heat blasting between the both of you. 

“Hands,” his teeth chattered, holding his own out. He nodded for you to do the same, grasping your pink fingers between his own and blowing on them. “Power went out,” Ren took a shallow breath, “I was leaving and I saw your car. You were almost frozen to your bed, the window broke.” 

“Th-thank you-u-u.” 

Ren cringed at your fingers, slowly gaining back their normal color. “I tried to grab everything I could, like your backpack and luggage. But we can’t stay there, we’ll fucking freeze.” 

You nodded, tugging your hands away to curl into your chest. Thankful that Ren had enough sense to grab blankets, stuffing them in your lap from the backseat. You thought about grabbing your phone, but you could barely make a fist so it would do you no good. 

“My plane g-g-got ground-d-ed.” 

Ren shivered, nodding sharply, “Mine too, my mom got me a hotel room not far from here to stay until the storm passes. So, I’m taking us there.” 

“Okay.” 

You didn’t say anything else, not wanting to distract him from the treacherous roads. Thank god he had a Jeep, or else you would’ve died. You couldn’t see more than ten feet ahead, less than that when you were on the highway out of the city. 

Ren kept mumbling things like it’s okay, I’m sorry, I know it's cold, whenever you shivered and took in sharp breaths. You must’ve been out for a while, to get this bad. A quick look at the clock in his car said you’d been asleep for three hours, who knows what would’ve happened if he hadn’t noticed your car… 

He helped you out, more carried you, towards the check-in desk. Too worried you would pass out in the car if he left you for too long, the front desk lady was quick and sweet. Making sure to send up extra blankets and pillows to your suite. Ren had you walk up with him, so he wouldn’t have to carry you and the luggage on separate trips. 

You clutched his hand like a child, tight enough for his knuckles to turn white. But he was so warm, it’s all you could think about. All you wanted was to be warm, nodding blindly to whatever Ren said to do. 

Plug your phone in, check. 

Let him talk to your mom, check. 

Draw a bath for you, check. 

Climb in the bath with you, double-check. 

It wasn’t until you were defrosted in the clawfoot tub that you realized you were naked with him. 

Rens chest against your back, holding you like his life depended on it. Judging by his shaking, you both were probably suffering from acute hypothermia. You had been silent for so long your voice spooked him a little, “Thank you.” 

He hummed into your hair, which was sitting on top of your head in a messy bun. “Are you okay?” 

You nodded slowly, “Can we go lay down?” 

“Yeah,” Ren hastily got out of the tub, draining it and wrapping you in plush towels. You were still too cold to blush from your nakedness, not how you pictured this going. You imagined you would finally give into him on some drunken party night, barely remembering his reaction to seeing you nude. 

But now he had seen you half-frozen, forced to cradle you back to life. 

------

You squinted from your cocoon, greeted by a dimly lit room. 

One spare lamp on a dingy-looking nightstand, well it wasn’t terrible. It was better than your nightstand in your dorm room… where was your dorm room anyway? 

Something vibrated behind you, followed by a heavyweight sprawling against your back. 

You held your breath, you were in a hotel. 

With a stranger. 

“Shit,” you whispered. 

Okay, you could wiggle out of here. You took a moment to study the room, there was the lamp from before, and some curtains on a metal rod in the far corner. If you managed to get out without being detected you could knock out the assailant. 

“You smell so good.” 

More weight settled on you, now you were trapped. This bear was closing in, who knows what happened while you were asleep! All you could remember was falling asleep at your dorm after the upsetting trip to the airport, then being dragged away. 

Your fingers burning when you tried to use them, being shoved in a car… 

Kylo. 

“Kylo?!” 

“Mhm.” 

You threw your arms up, successfully throwing him off you and the covers. Your limbs screaming at the sudden movement, you were still suffering from the cold. Next to you, curled in a ball, totally catlike, was Ren. 

A sleepy smile gracing his lips, hands curled under his cheek, and legs moving towards his chest, Like a child under a blanket. You gasped when you saw he was naked, “Fuck!” 

You were too. 

“What the fuck, Ren!?” 

“Stop yelling,” you watched his hand bat his nose like an animal, “Come back, you were warm.” 

You huffed, flailing off the bed in search of your bags. 

Memories flooding back to you, he took you here after saving your life. 

The bath. 

Ugh, bad time to remember your kiss the night before. 

Ren sat up in bed, rubbing his eyes and blinking slowly. You flushed red when you looked between his legs, shit. How does he walk around with that? Is that why he has bad posture? You choked on your spit when he spread his legs out. 

Sprawling completely on the mattress like he wasn’t in a room with a stranger. 

“Snow hasn’t stopped,” Ren yawned, snapping a hand and pointing between his legs, “Come back.” 

“I’m not doing anything until you have clothes on.” 

He rolled his eyes, now looking you up and down. Focusing on your bare tits, swinging around with your erratic movements. You watched him lick his lips, wagging his eyebrows, “Come on, don’t you want to sit back on the bed?”

You shook your head, crouching down to your bag. Trying to not flash him more of your goods, but that didn’t work. Not with him leaning to the side of the bed to make a show of him peeping on you. 

A wolfish grin splitting his face, “You have a nice ass.” 

“Can you stop,” you huffed, tugging on some sweats you found. 

Ren made a pouting noise when you stood, pushing his bottom lip out while you threaded your arms through a t-shirt. You shivered a little-it was still freezing in the room. Probably from the weather, it sounded like it got worse… hopefully this place would keep power. 

You looked back at the bed, Ren was still manspreading. One of his large paws crawling towards his cock, watching you with the same smirk. He let out a soft sigh when he touched himself, eyes momentarily shutting in bliss. 

“Do you have to do that with me here?” 

He cracked an eye open, “Do you have to be that far away?” 

You scoffed, moving to the corner of the room. Shivering since you were near the window, you plopped down in the cheap armchair. Ignoring the sounds of his fist gliding along his cock, you tucked your feet under your body. Humming a tune to ignore the arousal growing between your legs, there was no way you were caving to him. 

What kind of man does that with a complete stranger present!? 

More importantly, why was it turning you on? 

“Come here,” he whistled, you spared a glance at him. Blushing profusely at the sight, his cock was now fully erect. Standing tall and proud, tip flushed almost purple from want. You quickly looked away, trying to swallow down the drool that gathered in your mouth. 

What would happen if you gave in? 

Not like it would hurt you… he looked so delicious. 

“If I come over there, what's gonna happen,” you whispered, determined to stay put.

With a deep breath, the mattress groaned under his weight, probably leaning back to get comfortable. He seemed to love you being there, watching him, or trying not to. Ren made a small non-committal scoff, “Whatever you want to happen, baby.” 

“Don’t call me that, you know my name.” 

“Meow.” 

Your head snapped towards him, met with his grin. “Come on-you really want me to do this by myself?” he waved his cock, fist tight around the base. You rolled your eyes, training your eyes to focus on the least attractive part about him. 

You were coming up empty, all you could stare at was his cock. 

The prominent vein along the underside thrumming in time with his heartbeat. You could practically feel it along your tongue, rigid and stiff. Slowly, you stood from the chair, met with a soft whine from Ren. Eying your hungrily as you sauntered over, you planted a knee in the mattress. 

Between his legs, which were spread obscenely wide, he licked his lips in anticipation. 

“If I help you, are you going to be nicer to me?” 

He nodded, chest taking in sharp breaths. You slowly leaned back on your heels, stripping your top off, despite him seeing you naked earlier. Surprised when he bit his bottom lip, watching you play with your tits, rolling them in the palm of your hand. Just to make him squirm a bit, “I’ll be nicer, whatever you want.” 

“I’m really cold still,” you spoke softly, making sure to lean in close enough to graze his lips with your own before pulling away, “Can you help warm me up?” 

“Yes,” Ren's hands shot out, kneading your flesh a few times. Debating to grasp your tits or the small of your waist, like a kid in a candy store. So many options, but you didn’t want to wait. If you were doing this, it would be about you.

“Eat me out.” 

He stilled, cocking a brow, “Excuse me?” 

“You heard me,” you exhaled on his neck, being sure to drag your kitty claws along his chest. Briefly grazing his nipples, savoring the way he gasped. “Eat me out, if you make me cum, I’ll let you fuck me. Like the desperate slut you are.” 

Ren scowled for a moment, nudging your face from his neck. Eyes dancing across your face before capturing your lips, moaning softly in your mouth, “I can make you cum so hard you’ll never want another man again.” 

You placed a soft kiss, rolling onto your back dramatically. Splaying your legs wide, “If that's true, why do you fuck a different girl every week?” 

He growled at you, actually growled. 

Hands no longer soft in their quest to memorize your skin, instead Ren pinned your legs hard enough for them to pop. Making you squeal from the stretch, “How fast do you think I can make you cum? Hm?” 

Before you could answer, he dove in. 

Lips wrapping around your clit and suckling fast, tongue flicking out every few seconds. You were already bucking up to meet him, but his firm hold kept you flush. While his tongue began to lap thick stripes along the seam of your pussy. Briefly hooking the tip into your entrance, both of you moaning when he tasted your wetness. 

“Shit-Kylo!” 

“Mm,” his voice vibrated against your clit, continuing his assault until you choked on your spit. You buried your fingers in his hair, keeping him in that right spot. “I’m so fucking close,” you cried out, pleading his name over and over and over. 

“You know,” he popped off, smacking his lips that were glistening with your cum, “I’d rather you cum on my cock.” 

“Wait-” 

Ren flipped you onto your chest, yanking your hips into the air. You barely had time to take a breath before he shoved his cock inside you. His breath hitched as he sank to the hilt, you groaned at the stretch. Now this, this you could get used to.

He pulled out slowly, you heard him swear under his breath. Leaving just the tip of his cock inside and ramming his hips into yours. Pulling a loud scream from your lungs, Ren chuckled at that. Pumping his cock at a rough pace, “Shh-you’re going to upset our neighbors.” 

You huffed, cheap shot, angling your hips a little so his cock would rub up against your front wall. Moaning when he picked up the pace, skin slapping skin. Ren leaned over your form, planting a hand on the headboard to keep it from knocking. You weakly lifted your head, clenching at the sight of his knuckles turning white. 

All you could do was sit and take it, revealing in the bliss you’d denied yourself for four months. 

-------

Ren dropped you both off at the airport two days later. 

You spent three days together, fucking each other's brains out. 

Choking on his cock while he was brushing his teeth, eating you out while you read through your newsfeed. Bouncing on his cock while he fed you breakfast, you didn’t need to change clothes the entire vacation. 

But you wanted to go home and were thankful for the storm ending so you could head home. It was a little awkward, Ren wasn’t very excited about the snow stopping. It felt like he was trying to stall you leaving but reluctantly listened to your desire to fly home. 

“Got everything?” he mumbled, hitching his backpack over his shoulder. The two of you were waiting in the TSA line, about to part ways to head home. You nodded, giving him a tight smile before stepping up on your own. 

Ignoring the feeling of his eyes on the back of your head. 

Both of you stood awkwardly after making it through, “Well-my gates over here,” you pointed behind you. Ren hummed in acknowledgment, kicking at the ground instead of looking at you. 

“Thanks for letting me crash with you,” you tried again, still nothing. 

You groaned, spinning on your heel. Back to being an asshole, you were kicking yourself for thinking he would be nicer. All he wanted was some pussy, and you willingly gave into him when you should’ve remained strong. 

Your parents picked you up back at home, lots of tears and laughs were shared. Thankful that you made it home without freezing, your mom was grateful for your friend who saved your life. She wanted to call him and tell him how much she appreciated it but you shrugged it off, he was just being nice. He wasn’t your boyfriend or anything, you left out the part that he was the neighbor you always complained about. 

Collapsing on your bed felt surreal like you would wake up and be back in the hotel room at any moment. It was odd not sleeping next to him, you had grown accustomed to his clingy arms. Circling you in the middle of the night when he thought you were dead asleep, smelling your hair before tucking you into his naked chest. 

You tossed and turned all night, groaning when you were woken by your siblings to get up the next morning. Barely sleeping a wink, you resolved to take a nap later to try and not spoil your trip back home. 

At breakfast, your mom yelled at you from the kitchen. 

“Hey hon, someone’s calling you!” 

“Just answer it,” you groaned through a mouthful of cereal. Briefly hearing your mother answer in a typical chipper tone, stalling mid-sentence before she yelled again, “It’s someone named Kyle?” 

Shit, you shot to the kitchen. 

Snatching the phone and escaping to the living room where no one was hiding. 

“Kylo?” 

Hey, didn’t think you’d answer.

“How’d you get my number?” 

Took it while you were napping the other day, I knew you wouldn’t give it to me willingly.

You rolled your eyes, “Alright creeper, what’s up?” 

Just wanted to talk or whatever, felt weird not to. 

Silence. 

Are you gonna let me buy you coffee when we are back?

“You were being serious about that?” 

A scoff. 

Yeah-or we could just fuck again if that’s all you want from this. 

“Coffee sounds good.” 

Cool. Cool. 

It’s a date. 

-------

TAGGING: @finn-ray-nal-beads @onlykyloscenes @candycanes19 @historyandfandoms50 @caelum-phyriina-vermillon @ghoulian13 @mrs-kylo-ren @millenialcatlady @relationshipwithmybed @dancingmicrobes @wayward-rose  @contesa-lui-alucard @daydreamsofren @insufferablelust @ohdamnadamm @mariesackler @caillea @safarigirlsp @jalexunderthestars @shesakillerkween @glassythoughts @zimmermansbrat @not-the-teen-witch @jynzandtonic @roanniom @celestiasin @glassbxttless @cornmousequeen @driversmutbucket @blowthatpieceofjunk

[alicemitch09writes]

lame

02.

everything has changed (whether we like it or not)

When did everything change?

That was an easy question to answer, really. But there was more to it.

Everything could go back to the time Bakugouu first discovered his quirk in kindergarten, he had just turned 5, during playtime, he playfully shoved you before you felt force, heat – an explosion, before faceplanting to the ground.

Little Izuku ran towards you, helping you off your feet. Meeting the panicked look in your best friend’s eyes, you turned back to the blond, staring at his palms in awe, at the little explosions emitting off his sweat.

Funny enough, whenever he sweats, it was always sweet-smelling, never foul or salty.

“Uwah, amazing quirk, Katsuk!” your teacher said, kneeling down to give your best friend an appraising look.

Carmine eyes looked up from his palm, tiny explosives going off excitedly.

“Cool! His quirk’s so cool!”

“It’s so radical, just like him!”

Beside you, Izuku’s eyes sparkled with excitement, happy for your best friend for finally manifesting his own quirk.

“Kacchan’s amazing!”

Discovering your quirk at such a young age, especially with an amazing quirk, should be exciting. However, the look in Katsuki’s carmine eyes was scaring you.

The more he was praised for his quirk, the more his explosions went off, the more the gleam in his eyes was scaring you.

Who is…? What is this?

“Ah, I see. I’m just awesome, and everyone else isn’t!”

Later that day, a small burnt mark was found at the back of your neck. A tell-tale reminder of what’s to come.

And then, Izuku found out that he was quirkless.

It was supposed to be a secret between the three of you, but somehow, everyone caught wind of it and began avoiding Izuku, lest they get caught with his ‘quirkless’ germs. Because you were with him a lot, not showing signs of quirk, kids easily assumed that the quirkless germs were true.

Was that when things changed?

After kindergarten, Katsuki found himself a new set of friends, those who weren’t quirkless like you and Izuku, friends who had cool quirks that could considerably pass up to his.

Since discovering his quirk, not only did it fuel his ego, but it also put a strain on your once impenetrable and inseparable friendship.

Now, he was more bent on being the best of the best, together with his amazing quirk that’ll surely bring him there no problem.

Everyone else were just beneath him, not worth his time, effort, or breath. Especially Deku – how you detested that nickname, so full of malice, disgust, and mockery – everything Izuku didn’t deserve, especially from his once best friend.

Since then, he’s deserted the two of you.

You didn’t care, you had Izuku.

Fuck Bakugou and his new quirk, ambition, and shittiness.

You didn’t need him anyway.

From: Izuku

To: (Name)

(Nickname)! I’m doing well. Just having lunch with my classmates right now!

[image.txt]

Tapping the photo, you could see Izuku smiling at the camera with a few friends in the shot – the brown-haired girl, Uraraka Ochako, the bespectacled boy, Iida Tenya, and the quiet boy, too busy eating his soba, Todoroki Shouto. It made you smile in return, having your own lunch as of texting. 

To: Izuku

From: (Name)

You better eat up, then. You hear me?

Also, stop being so reckless and take care, okay?

Right after the events at UA – the whole League of Villains intercepting the school, Izuku was, more than ever, always brought to the clinic. And you, being one of his immediate contacts (next to his mom), would rush over just to check on him, fighting a tooth and nail just to be with him. And time and time again, Izuku would give you an apologetic smile, matched with his unyielding assuring words, kind eyes, and warm hug.

The only thing you ever hated about Izuku is his recklessness, wrought by his strong sense of justice.

Having enough of everything he’s been through, it was only fair that he revealed something to you, something to explain a bit of him getting accepted at one of the most prestigious schools in Japan while bearing an almost enduring and testy quirk, a secret he knew he could only entrust to you because you were one of the few people Izuku trusted more than anything in the world – his quirk was not his, but it was passed down to him by All Might.

The revelation was shocking to you, especially because it was tied along with so many other factors you couldn’t begin to fathom. But with enough explanation, eventually, everything seemed to tie together and make better sense.

Although worried about his well-being, once again, Izuku was quick to assure you that he was working his best to make everyone – not just his idol, All Might – proud and safe. That was more than enough for you.

Still, it was such a big secret to bear. But, obviously, he trusted you, because you were his best friend.

Well, you and that other guy, for some reason.

"(Name)-san, you're going to snap that broom in half!" your co-worker called out.

Loosening your hold, you inspected the wood, glad to see that it was still intact. It was still three minutes past four, you realize, just a few minutes before dusk.

Sighing, you turned to your co-worker with an apologetic smile. "Sorry, Otoha, just got something on my mind."

Izuku did tell Bakugouu his secret in a roundabout way, the blond would at least catch on to that, being a smart asshole. You just couldn’t wrap your head at the idea of having to entrust him Izuku’s big secret.

The younger girl tilts her head to the side, in thought, as she stares at you. "Are you sure? You seem to be out of it since this morning."

"Yeah, I am. Promise."

Right after revealing his secret, Izuku had planned to have you and the famed Symbol of Peace meet – to assure both parties. But you declined, knowing how busy hero work was.

(Also, to be in his presence would be something. You couldn’t deal with that. Izuku going a mile about how amazing he was made up for it.)

However, with the newfound information given to you, it was almost too much to bear. It was amazing to hear how Izuku was adjusting to his new life, working his hardest, granted that he earned it all. Guilt gnawed your insides, realizing that you were doing him a disservice at the same time, as you had your own secret you weren't telling your best friend.

Exhaling through your nose, you walked around back, to return the cleaning supplies, missing the group of people entering the cafe, hearing only the cheery greetings from Otoha and your other co-workers.

05:51 pm.

The café was in full bloom, packed with students from various schools filling all the seats. You’d spot some of your regular customers, most don’t stay long whilst stop just drop by for a coffee fix before they’re off.

From the far corner, a small group of students you could only guess were from UA, judging from their uniform, were making quite a ruckus.

Thankfully, there was enough staff that day.

Still, working was taxing!

Off to handle drinks, you kept the newbies by your side, promptly teaching them how to mix orders, which cups to use for which drinks, the amount of syrup, etcetera before they finished up for you and you were left to prepare another order. Like clockwork, they’d be back by your side for another order, and the process would start all over again.

Seeing as how well they were doing, you decided to leave them to make their own drinks as you worked on your own. Coming up to serve at the bar, readying your smile, your expression froze as you were met with the last person you wanted to see.

"The fuck-"

Not letting him finish, you forced the smile on back before practically shoving the drink into his hands, uncaring that it almost spilled over.

“Oi-“

"Enjoy your drinks, sir!"

Otoha, your young, sweet, co-worker, saw the whole thing, flinched at your gesture, warily watching you turn your back to help fix other orders without another bat towards the blond who just stared. Discreetly walking over, to fix her own order, she whispers, "(Name)-san, do you know him-"

"No."

"Are you sure-"

"Yes."

"But-"

"Otoha," turning to her with a pained smile, you reply. "I've never seen him before in my life. Okay?"

Feeling a shiver run down her spine, the younger girl slowly, nervously nodded. "O-Okay..."

…

“Bakugou my man, are you alright?”

“…”

“That girl looked really pissed at you, do you know her?”

"..."

“Is she an ex-girlfriend? Is that why she was so angry?”

"..."

“Yeah! And you’ve been wanting to head to this café for a while now.”

"..."

“I must admit, she’s kinda cute- “

“I will end you, dunce face.”

09:08 pm

Ever since she applied, you had taken Otoha under your wing and she all but admired you after your first meeting. You both lived in the same area, so you’d take it upon yourself to walk her home, not trusting a young teen like her to walk alone, especially when evil abounded. Also, she was quirkless.

That night, you were walking along the quiet streets, hands in your pockets as Otoha hummed under her breath. You stopped, ears picking up on footsteps – two, no three people were trailing after you. Gently taking the girl by the arm, you led her to another route, to a busier area, hoping to lose them.

Otoha was too gung-ho about her surroundings to understand your predicament, which was probably for the best. Still, you could feel them behind you.

Exiting the busy lane, the two of you crossed the street, turned a corner, into an empty square. Just as you walked in, so did they – three guys in godawful flashy clothes.

Scared, the younger girl hid behind you and you took a step forward, shielding her from their lecherous gaze.

“Can we help you?”

One of them laughed, some pansy in ridiculous SUPRA outfit waltzed towards you.

“Oh no, no, no, can we help you, young misses?”

You had to roll your eyes at that.

“Well, let’s see, it’s late at night,” he drawled, flashing gold in his teeth “two girls are out walking out,” his two companions chuckled “dangerous is it not?”

Your expression remained, betraying nothing. The pansy decided to talk some more, probably on some shit about chivalry.

“And well, we gentlemen thought it would be just right to walk you girls home!” And there it was. “It’s dangerous for little girls to be out so late.”

And he was right.

“Otoha,” you whispered, as he continued to babble. “take this alleyway,” to gesture with a quick tilt of your head, something the guys didn’t notice. “go straight then turn to your first left, you’ll be safe then.”

“E-Eh? How about you?”

Smiling, you met her gaze. “I’ll be fine.”

“…So, little girls, what’s it gonna be?”

Crossing your arms, you sighed. “Well, you guys do have a point…”

They smile amongst themselves, rather smugly.

“But” taking Otoha’s hand, you tugged her towards the alleyway, pushing her with all you have onto her shoulders. “I don’t trust fuckers who look like they belong to the world’s worst dance troupe that easily!”

The younger girl took this as her cue, albeit slightly confused, but fuelled by panic to run for it.

Loosening your bag, you allow it fall off your shoulders, before it hit the ground, and just as his goons were about to touch a hide of Otoha’s hair, you were before him, eyes ablaze with a ferocious, eerily calm expression on your face, before kicking him away from the young girl.

The force of the kick sends him rolling on the dirt before he’s out cold. One down, exhaling and you fell into a stance, eyes yellow like the moon above you.

Bracing yourself for the next assault, your ears picked up something clinking – a weapon? Ah, knuckle braces which circle his entire fists. Ah, his quirk.

Beside him, his other companion put on his glasses, his godawful flashy clothes engulfing him like an armored suit.

Always gotta be ballsy.

The lights flicker above you; you didn’t move from your spot nor did you deter from their sneers.

“You’ll wish you came willingly like a good girl!” screamed armored flashy guy. Fists hammered against each other and the two were dashing towards you.

Despite being outnumbered, adrenaline rushed through your veins, reeling with excitement as you messed with them, toying at every chance you got.

Dodging a fist thrown your way, eyes caught on the armored flashy guy you easily swung low, aiming for his legs, playing a dangerous tango against two. Sweeping low, you managed to just barely block the kick thrown your way, using the awkward push back, forcing the weight unto your back before swiftly kicking him back.

Once knocked out, you focused on fists, quick to press your body flat against the ground to dodge a measly kick, before lifting your body ever so slightly to deliver a kick to the back of his head, slamming painfully to the ground. Two down.

The light above burst, glass flying everywhere as the armored flashy guy smugly laughed to himself. “Now look what you did, little girl. It’s night out~ A dangerous time for little girls like you~” putting on his shades, which were actually night vision goggles, he walked towards the unsuspecting girl. “And I have to take good care of good girls like you~”

Without turning, you grabbed the hand that reached for your head.

“Eh?”

You could hear the thump of his heart, the hitch of his breath, his muscles moving – it was satisfying to know how much he underestimated you.

“What was it you said again,” came your voice, smooth and calm. “you’d take care of a little girl like me?”

Clenching your hand in his, you heard a crack, he screamed in pain, falling to his knees with one hand in the air.

Head turning, he flinched at the sight of you – eyes once were (e/c) gleamed a dangerous yellow, maybe not like the moon, but of a creature of the moon, a dangerous smirk playing on your lips.

“You’re right, it is dangerous to be out this late at night.”

Faster than the eye can see, you elbow him in the face, hearing a satisfying crack, before tossing him away from you.

Exhaling, you felt your nerves come to a calm. Yellow eyes took in your surroundings, ensuring that they didn’t have any more accomplices.

Three bodies, down and unconscious. You were good. With the help of your heightened senses, you found that Otoha had just fled to safety and that there was an unwanted presence behind you, smelling like burnt sugar and spicy cinnamon.

“Can I help you,” without looking his way, you turned to grab your bag from the ground “Bakugou Katsuki?”

Having seen the whole thing, he was rendered speechless, voice caught in his throat. “(N-Name)…” was all he managed to say, clearly shocked at the new discovery. "Oi, oi, oi, what the fuck? Y-You…you had a quirk all along?"

Exhaling through your nose, quite angrily, you nodded. "Yes."

Even without looking his way, you could tell his expression had changed – feel his heart thump slowly, hear the hitch in his throat – completely seething that he was lied to, kept in the dark.

You barely flinched when he grabbed you by the shoulder, rather forcingly. "Then why the fuck didn't you-"

"Tell you? Oh please, don't give me that bull that you wanted to know." Pushing him away, you didn't mind the pain in your abdomen, choosing to distance from him. "It was enough knowing that you thought having a quirk made you the king of the world and those who didn't were peasants. In layman's term, it wouldn't change a damn thing."

Carmine eyes remained on you, wide, heated, for once not filled with anger, but of confusion. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing." You sighed, tiredly this time, massaging the bridge of your nose.

"No, tell me."

"What good would it do you?"

"I just want to know."

Scoffing, you shook your head, running a hand through your hair. "Your chances were used up; you have no fucking right now."

And with that, you left.

Despite being quirkless, Izuku managed to make up what he lacked with the help of keen observation that was powered by his fascination with quirks. Thus, began his ‘Hero Analysis’ notebooks, in which he’d list down hero after hero, their amazing feats, quirks, abilities, possibilities, theories – basically, a Wikipedia page. In addition, Izuku was stronger than he looked, especially because he had a heart of gold and a strong sense of justice.

You, on the other hand, could care less about quirks. They were something to behold, true, but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re still human just with an added bonus, that’s it.

For the longest time, you withheld the one secret you could never have the heart to tell your best friend – you had a quirk of your own. It wasn't an impressive quirk, but it wasn't a bad one either.

Your quirk was called ‘The Night One’ - having heightened senses, agility, and strength but only at night. Most of your abilities were likened to those of nocturnal animals. When activated, your eyes would turn golden yellow. As the quirk made you active at night, obviously, and making you a bit of an insomniac, its drawback was that it made you restless during morning time.

The Yoruichi family came from a long line of martial artists, all of which mastered every martial art known to man. Before you were 10, you'd mastered it all.

Your family was more of an anti-hero, which is why they chose to lay low and pretend they were normal quirkless folks. It was easier to hide in plain sight, after all. The family had a reputation in the underground business, especially for stealth and espionage work.

Eraserhead was a family friend, he was basically your uncle growing up. He was also your idol.

Your quirk first appeared when you got your first period, which was normal for a female in your family. Not only was it terrifying experience, but you didn’t really care much for it, especially since you just wanted to live a normal life free from the expectations of society and the weight of it.

The thought of heroes and quirks made you skeptic, to say the least. And it was thanks to a certain blond.

However, your parents were more than understanding with your views – however jaded they were, assuring you that it wasn’t all bad.

“But since you’re doing this for Izuku’s sake, I don’t see why not.” Your father had said, patting your head gently.

“He’s my best friend,” 7-year old you were quick to say, cheeks puffing.

“Yes, yes, we know. We all know who you’re really setting your eyes for.” Your grandfather said teasingly, causing your cheeks to burn, sticking your tongue out to him.

Laughter left your parents’ lips, your grandfather included. Gently, your mother took you in her arms, smiling kindly at you. “But, (Name), what you’re doing is quite noble. You may not like what I’m about to say, but what you’re doing is a mark of a hero – putting others before yourself.”

“Still, we’re going to work you to the bone in the Yoruichi fashion!”

Both your parents turned sullenly to your grandfather, clearly displeased.

“Father, please.”

“You ruined the moment, old man.”

So, when did everything change?

Was it the time Izuku and you were paired more often during class? Katsuki had plenty of friends anyway. He didn’t seem to mind, stating that it was better than being exposed to quirkless germs.

Was it when Izuku and you would still tagalong to play? In the end, Katsuki would leave you in the middle of a game with his new friends.

Or was it the time Katsuki fell off that log?

You could remember it, clear as day, you and bunch of other kids tagged along to play in the forest, Katsuki leading the charge as always, you and Izuku in the last. The lot of you found yourselves with a log that connected the two cliffs together, but Katsuki just walked on, the rest followed. Halfway through, he slipped on the mossy part of the log before falling into the water.

“KATSUKI!/KACCHAN!” both you and Izuku screamed in unison, scurrying down to help him.

While the rest of your friends called out, watching, the two of you were waddling knee-deep into the water towards your best friend.

“Kacchan,” Izuku’s small voice called. “are you okay? Can you stand?”

Yes, you remember it well. The look in his eyes when Izuku offered his hand, offered him refuge and help. You were next to Izuku, unsure of the tense situation at that single moment.

And what did Katsuki do?

He slapped Izuku’s hand away, throwing away everything you three had in the process.

That’s when everything changed.

Friday, you were working the bar, lazily keeping the counter clean, when the door opened.

“Welcome!” you cried, smile in place, it widened when you were met with green curly locks. “Izuku!”

“Hi, (Nickname)! Uwah, so this is where you work, it’s rather cozy-looking!”

Smiling cheekily, you pressed your palms against the counter, watching as he approached. “Well, it is a café.” Noticing he wasn’t alone, you smiled at the company. “And who are these lovely people?”

“A-Ah, how rude of me! Everyone,” he turned to the small group, who had been watching your interaction quietly. “this is my childhood friend, (Name) Yoruichi.”

“Yo!” you gave a two-fingered salute in greeting.

“(Nickname), these are my friends-“

“I kinda know who they are, Izuku.” You teased, cutting him off, making you laugh. “But, by all means.”

“Greetings, I’m Tenya Iida!” the tall bespectacled boy says, waving his hands robotically, almost dangerously.

“Shouto Todoroki.” The dual-haired boy nods at you, eyeing the menu behind you in interest. Idly, you handed him a menu so he can have a clearer view, he mutters his thanks.

“And I’m Ochako Uraraka!” the lone brunette female says, cheerily, grabbing both your hands in hers. “It’s so nice to finally meet you! Deku-kun talks about you a lot!”

“The pleasure is all mine, then. Thanks so much for taking care of my clumsy little broccoli.”

“(N-Nickname)!”

“Any case!” Iida chops a hand in, catching everyone’s attention. “We shouldn’t dilly dally! We must place our orders!”

“No worries,” you wave at him. “it’s pretty quiet this time of the week. But,” fixing your posture, standing a little straight, you put on your work persona. “anything you’d like to order?”

“I’ll have the chai latte,” says Todoroki, having made his decision. “cold, please.”

“Okay,” nodding, you turn to Iida, who orders a hot mocha, Uraraka orders a strawberry Frappuccino with cheesecake on the side. Uraraka turned to Iida and Todoroki, looking checking for available seats whilst waiting for Izuku – you liked them, they were a good bunch.

Turning to the green-haired boy, he was left eyeing the menu rather clinically, taking his time. Poking his forehead, he blinks at you. “Hot Matcha?”

He chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. “You know me too well, (Nickname).”

“That I do, Izuku, that I do.”

One thing that never changed though, the one thing you hoped never would, was the friendship you have with Izuku.

masterlist • three

[fbfh]

domestic cozy moments with leo - an anthology

i should really be asleep

aged up to 18+ obvs,,,, rlly wishing this was real rn lmao,,, also it’s fluff if u couldn’t tell 

1600 words

You set down your last box, hearing a thump in the next room as he sets his. You will your legs to carry you into the next room where he’s waiting, standing, looking at you. The glaring over head light still somehow makes him look good, and you can tell, by this point, that he’s thinking something similar about you. He pulls you closer with one strong comforting gesture, and you both flop unceremoniously down onto the bare mattress on the floor. You tuck the crook of your elbow over your face to block out the harsh light, and gently rub your face into the material of his shirt; a dark flannel over a deep red hoodie, some quote splashed across the chest. The arm wrapped around you bent, his hand brushing the hair at the top of your forehead. 

“We did it,” he breathed.

“Yeah,” you replied, “now we just gotta unpack everything.”

“And organize.”

“And decorate,” you add. There’s a beat of silence.

“God, this is gonna be a nightmare, isn’t it…” he laughs, head resting on top of yours. A slow, tired chuckle rocks your body. 

“Yeah, probably…”

You’ve both been up since about 4am, and have only just finished moving into your apartment. It’s around one or two in the morning. You’re beyond exhausted, the thrill of the move and shitty, delerious humor keeping you running for the last few hours. 

“Y’know what,” he moves, kicking off his shoes, “I say we just crash for the night. Deal with the rest of it in the morning.” He’s already mumbling, his voice groggy - groggier than before - and you can tell he’s losing orbit. Against your wishes, you make yourself sit up. You kneel over to a box a few feet away, and rip the tape off. You pull out a duvet, and shuffle back over to him. 

“Yeah,” you say, already slipping out of your sneakers and throwing some of the blanket over him, “sounds good.” You curl back into him, into a slightly more comfortable position, and start to settle down. 

“Shit,” he hisses, “the light.” You realize the light’s still on and groan.

“Oh god… we’re really that dumb,” you can feel the sleep deprived laughter taking over.

“Wait, wait,” he giggles, the infectious laugh spreading. He leans over, fumbling for the mop next to the broom and vacuum, and holds the flat head, the pole in between his fingers. You feel him shift, and pry your eyes open. He’s almost got it. You make some encouraging ‘oh, ooooh!’s as he lines up the loop at the top with the light switch on the wall and darkness engulfs you. He lays back down in a heap, setting the mop on the floor next to him. 

“Nice!” you press a kiss below his ear, the closest place you could reach, and he mutters sleepily, “Thank you, thank you, I’ll be signing autographs in half an hour,” laughter seeping into his words like a teabag in hot water as he pulls his hood up. Your limbs are already tingly with sleep. He mutters something you can’t make out, and you’re pretty sure you tried to ask what, but you don’t remember anything after that. You don’t know who fell asleep first, but you both slept really well that night. 

~

Your piping was migraine worthy. 

That’s what Leo had said after about a minute under your bathroom sink. 

You had noticed the water pressure in the sink got really weak after a day or two. Your apartment was pretty old, so it wasn’t surprising. 

“Should we call the superintendent?” you asked through a mouth of ramen. A smile hit his eyes, and you finished the thought he hadn’t said.

“To let him know,” you shoved his chest playfully, “I know you can fix it, that wasn’t a question.” It backed off, and instead he said, “You can try, but I’m pretty sure he’s one of those three-to-five-business-days types.” 

“Well, at least he’ll know what’s going on.” He still had that look. “I’ll tell him not to call a plumber. My boyfriend’s an engineer and can more than handle it.” He seemed satisfied, and grabbed his tools. 

“I’m just saying, I think I know a thing or two about this stuff…” You pulled the still ringing phone from your face. “Duh, you’re the-” the phone stopped ringing. Voicemail. You rolled your eyes as the beep sounded, and left a brief message explaining who you were and the situation. After you finished talking, you hung up. 

“God, I hate talking on the phone,” you mutter. You turn the corner to the bathroom doorway. 

“How’s it looking?” you lean on the door frame, and suppress a chuckle at the sight of your boyfriend laying on a skateboard under the bathroom sink. 

“This makes… no sense…” he muttered. “I mean, who- why would you put a dual check there?” You smiled, loving when he talked about his hyperfixations, even if it barely made sense to you. You decided to check back in a bit, and went to transfer some laundry. 

It had been a while. You had checked on Leo two or three times, and he was still doing something under there. He had come out once or twice to get some parts or piping from his supplies, then went straight back to work. If only you had a dollar for every time you heard him sigh, “there’s gotta be a better way to do this…” It’s been two hours and he needs a break. 

You walk back into the bathroom, step over him, and sit down, your hips right on top of his.

He stops.

He pushes you both out from under the sink, skateboard rolling slowly, his eyes locked with yours.

“Hello,”

“Hi,”

~

You just wanted to take out the trash, that was all. But when you entered the back alley and saw a little kitty cat looking so scared by the dumpster, you couldn’t stop your instincts. You set the trash down slowly, scooped up the cat, and marched back inside. You set her - or him? You weren’t sure yet. You set them in the bathroom, made a little nest of towels close to the radiator, and left, closing the door behind you. You came back in with a small storage bin with cat litter - which Leo luckily had on hand for absorbing oil spills in his garage - paper bowls with some tuna and water, and a small ball of yarn from a long since abandoned craft project. The kitty ate all the tuna in record time, and looked at you, asking for more. 

“Wait for that to digest, then you can have seconds.” you said, softly. You gave them a little head pat, and they skittered away, unused to affection. It made your heart a little sad. But it’s okay, you reminded yourself, kitty’s gonna get lots of love from now on. You adjust your seat on the edge of the tub, trying to stop your butt from going numb. You pick the cat up to put them in their makeshift bed, and check under their tummy. Yup, girl kitty. She lets out a high pitched meow, and you can tell she’s still pretty young. You pet her back, and she arches up, her tail curling. She moves away from your hand, still not used to it yet, but a loud purr resonates through her chest and off the walls. You hold back a delighted squeal as she curls up into a ball. Oh jeez, do you have any blankets? You could cover her with a towel, but do you have anything softer? You leave to check, closing the door securely behind you. You dig through the linen closet for a few minutes before you hear the door open and close. 

“Honey, I’m home,” Leo quipped, putting his jacket on the coat rack. You picked up a small fleece decorative blanket you had no use for until now. 

“Hey,” he turned the corner, and placed his hand on your face, and your free hand rested on his. He pressed a warm kiss to your lips, and pulled away even though he didn’t want to. “Hey, Sparky,” you replied, a smile only he could give you blooming on your face. 

He started to tell you you two could catch up in a minute, he just has to wash the stubborn leftover machine oil off his hands, but you stopped him before he could.

“I have a surprise.” You said.

“Okay,” he replied, smiling, “what is it?”

You bit your lip, and quickly pulled him into the bathroom, closing the door quickly behind you. 

“Woah, babe,” he smirked, “if you wanted-” his voice cut off when he saw you kneeling next to a small kitty. 

“Her name is garbage, cause that’s where I found her!” you giggled, quoting the episode of The Office you two had watched just last night. 

“Aww,” he cooed, and began to wash his hands hastily so he could pet her, “she’s adorable!” his voice was soft, and higher than normal, and it was the cutest thing you’d ever heard. He dried off his hands, and bent down to give her a cuddle. You stayed like that for a while, watching her play with string and baby talking her. 

“By the way, Estrella,” he said, breaking his baby voice to look up at you, “we’re not actually naming her garbage, right?”

“No!” you laughed, “She’s too cute, that’d be mean…” 

He giggled at your face, and you two batted names back and forth for a while, trying to find the right one, and eventually settling on Jackhammer, maybe Jack for short.  “She’s definitely as loud as one,” Leo mused when he’d first heard her purr.

She purred a lot more after that.

[vesuvian-american-fics]

better with time. Ch 8

two steps back.

If you're going to be staying at with the Survey Corps for the time being, you're going to be put to hard labor. Under Captain Levi's supervision, no less. (AO3)

Words: 1,940

The harsh clatter of rusty keys snapped you out of your slumber. Groggily you struggled to allow your eyes to adjust to the early morning light seeping into the room from your dusty window. The window that was strategically nailed shut the night prior by Levi.  

Wearily you propped yourself up on your elbows to eye whoever was coming to wake you at such an hour. As if you didn’t already know who.

Without warning, Levi stepped into the room and kicked your bed with such force you would have fallen out of it if you weren’t already anticipating his actions. Levi’s eyes scanned your face, sleepy bags under your squinted eyes, dried drool across your cheek, that mop of messy hair flying in every direction. What a sorry sight.

“Get dressed and meet me in the hall. You've got five minutes to fix all of... that.” He ordered, his hand lazily gesturing at all of you. You only groaned in response and muttered curses under your breath as he shut the door.

In ten minutes, you were out the door and found Levi waiting for you, arms crossed and an impatient and unimpressed scowl donning his features.  

“I doubled your work load since you decided to take double the time to get out here.” He said, before leaving you in his dust. Your mouth dropped open at his words.  

“What work?” You asked, running to catch up with the man.  

“You’re going to be put to work, you’re no guest here if that wasn’t obvious.” He said plainly, at the end of the hallway Levi opened a heavy door that led into a closet filled to the brim with cleaning supplies. Mops, brooms, and chemicals galore.  

When he turned around, he shoved a broom, duster, mop, and a rusty bucket into your chest. You fumbled to hold everything as he closed the door and walked back towards your bedroom. You clumsily followed after him, tripping over your own two feet on the way.  

Back at your room you were pushed inside by Levi’s hand. Before slamming the door in your face, he said you have but one hour to clean your place up to his standards and that he’ll have you cleaning until sunrise tomorrow if you mess up.  

“Bu–” You voice was cut off by the heavy wood coming mere centimeters from your nose. You jumped back, dropping your cleaning supplies in the process and listened in disbelief at the jingle of those rusty keys locking you inside.  

Really? Really?

You hadn’t the slightest clue how clean he wanted this place but to reach his standards, which you imagined were high, in just an hour sounded impossible. However, you knew his threats weren’t to be taken lightly. He didn’t seem like the type of guy to get much sleep so you can bet he wouldn’t bat his lashes at the idea of making you clean under his supervision into the late hours of the night.

You groaned dramatically, before snatching up your broom and taking out your anger on the germs and muck caked to the creaking floor boards. On the other side of the door Levi heaved a long-suffering sigh before quietly crossing the hall to complete some paper work in the meantime.

After the hour was up, Levi wasted no time in letting himself into your room to inspect your work.  

There he found you atop a stool wiping mindlessly at the window to clean it the best you good. He watched as you smeared the dust and ick from the glass around in messy circles leaving behind a disgusting streak of dirt in your wake. You’ll definitely be cleaning that again, later.

Levi scowled before snapping at you to stop. His upper lip permanently pulled up in a disgusted grimace. He swiped his slender fingers underneath the table in the corner of your room, scoffing at the dust that dirtied his fingers. He did a few laps around the room, making sure to not touch anything this time.  

He sighed as he wiped away dust on his fingers as he leveled you down with a cold, bored glare.  

“Try again.” He said, once again locking you inside. Clenching your fists and accepting defeat you tried again as told. This time, after your hour was up, Levi didn’t both checking your work. He was sure to be disappointed yet again if he did.  

“Follow me.” He said coldly.

Walking down the halls you passed by a number of scouts, they all look strong though you can recall Levi complaining about a certain few whom you could recognize now.  

Armin, he said was too kind but he complimented his intelligence. Jean had potential but he’d hesitate at times, most likely fear. Mikasa was the strongest and fastest, but when it came to Eren, she was reckless. He failed to discuss Sasha and Connie’s skills on the battlefield and instead complained about their childish antics at the base. Bertholdt and Reiner were inseparable and weird. That’s all he said about them... odd.  

Before you could recall anything else you found yourself bumping into the Captain’s back as he stopped abruptly in front of you. He clicked his tongue at the contact, before looking back at you over his shoulder.  

“Clean the kitchen good enough and maybe I’ll let you eat lunch in the canteen with everybody else.” He led you inside the large canteen and through the double doors to the back. You gasped at the sight before you, it looked as if a titan ran through here on a rampage. Your shoulders slumped at the sight and Levi hid his smug look from your view.  

Before leaving he listed off your duties and gave you three hours to complete the job. As he left you could hear him telling some scouts that they were free from the morning duty of cleaning the kitchens. A muffled “yay” was all you could hear as the doors swung shut leaving you to your own devices and chores.  

...

As the hours dragged on you found yourself growing more drained. Your body was sore, your hands ached and there were blisters forming from the strenuous work you hadn’t yet grown accustomed to.  

“This is shitty...” You whined, blowing out a puff of air to toss a few stray hairs out of your face.

“Your cleaning job? Yeah, it is pretty shitty.” Levi commented. You felt as if you had jumped four feet into the air, how long was he standing there? You frowned before whipping your head around to face him

“Leave me alone...” You mumbled as you got back to mopping the floors.

“And here I was about to let you off the hook five minutes early. Never mind then.” He said, shrugging his shoulders before making his way over to the tea cabinet and grabbing two bags. You huffed before scrubbing harder, in your mind you imagined it was his face that was on the end of this mop receiving your fury.  

Five minutes passed before Levi reappeared with two steaming cups of warm jasmine tea.  

“You can stop that now, you’re about to mop through the wood itself.” He said before nodding his head towards the canteen. You dropped the mop without looking back. Levi decided to ignore your ill manners, giving you a break from his strict rules just this once.  

He sat at one of the long tables and you apprehensively did the same, taking your seat right across from him. He slid across your cup of tea and you eyed it warily.

“I didn’t poison it, drink up.” He said before beginning to sip his drink, holding the cup in that odd way he always did. You sighed before gently grasping the cup, the movement was painful for your blisters but you desperately needed this drink. The two of you drank in an awkward silence before Levi decided to comment on your ever-present pout.

“What is wrong with your face?” He asked between sips.

“Nothing.” You said, staring down at the steam floating away from your tea.  

“Something. The tea tastes fine, so what is it?” He said, sounding a bit sterner this time, demanding an answer.

Without verbally replying you simply showed the man the red angry blisters that littered your palm. He sucked his teeth disappointedly before leaving you alone in the canteen for a moment. You rolled your neck to ease the pain that resided there before hearing the canteen doors swing open again.  

Levi sat once more in his seat as he set down a healing salve and bandages for your hands. He opened and closed his hand a few times to ask you to offer him one of yours so he could wrap it. Relenting to him you gave him your hand and found he was surprisingly gentle as he bandaged you up.

Levi dunked two of his slender fingers into the salve and massaged it carefully into your palm, the feeling was soothing enough for you to hum in pleasure. His eyebrow twitched at the sound before glancing up to see that embarrassed flush paint your cheeks. Finishing up his work on that hand Levi turned it this way and that to check for any missed spots.  

He wrapped your hand delicately with the bandages, but tight enough for it to be effective in the healing process. As he began to work on your other hand you decided to fill the silence.

“One moment your insufferable and the next you’re nice to me. I don’t get you.” You said, eyes looking intently at his work. You doubt he’ll offer to wrap them up again for you tonight.  

“Mhm... Don’t try to get me, it's pointless.” He said, noncommittedly, and again the silence was almost painful.

“Thanks.” Was all you could think to say, afraid that if you try too hard to prod into the inner machinations of his mind, you’d strike a nerve.  

“Don’t thank me. I’m only doing this so you don’t wind up back in the infirmary and I can’t work you tomorrow.” He said, tying a knot on the bandages and securing them. You found yourself giggling at the comment before you could think better of yourself. A ghost of a smile lined Levi’s lips before falling back into a thin line. You decided to play like you hadn’t seen that.  

After that, the two of you finished your tea in relative silence. Levi stood and removed both of the tea cups and dropped them off in the kitchen’s sink.

“Lunch is in half an hour. Go rest.” He said as he left from the canteen. You sat for a moment before lifting yourself onto your feet and doing as you were told without complaint.  

“He’s confusing,” you thought. The hallways were empty on your way back to your bedroom, you were practically dragging your feet the whole way. As you stood between your bedroom and Levi’s office you could hear him milling about in there.  

Light footsteps, shuffling papers, and quiet commentary on what he had to take care of for the day. Most likely talking to himself and taking metal notes. You sighed before slinking off to your bed and throwing yourself onto it, eliciting another coughing fit. Even after changing the sheets there was entirely too much dust seeped into the mattress.

In Levi’s office he heard the raging coughs coming from your room. He chuckled inwardly before clearing his throat to stifle the sound. He frowned at himself before getting back to his work to rid you from his mind.  

“Troublesome girl.”

[aj-writes-here]

Hello! Could I request a scenario of the reader having a huge crush on levi for so long, they've been growing somewhat close but she walks in on levi and petra kissing and it breaks her heart? she grows really cold and distances herself from him and everyone and after petra dies levi realises that he lost someone important already (the reader) and realises it and tries to make it up to her, she's still cold but slowly warms up to him again? thank you! love your writing! have a great day!!

Hi! I just finished it and I hope this is what you were looking for! I have to say that this one gave me feels 😢 and thank you so much for your compliment! 💕

Sorry if it took me too long, and by the way, for the requests I have pending I apologize as well if I delay, as you may know English is not my native language so I have to check and recheck grammar, syntax, and all of those things, that is why it takes me a bit longer to finish some requests, but I’m working on them 😅

Wrong Idea

y/n had been part of Levi's squad for as long as she can remember, and someway somehow their relationship was... Different from the rest of his squad. Even though they were different, they grew closer to each other as the moons went by. Maybe it was because she knew how to respect his space, but also being with him when she knew he needed it. It was not a talkative situation, but there they were, supporting each other in their way. The way they only knew.

There were moments where Levi would just pour her some tea, or save some pastries for her whenever there were some. Where those actions the ones that made her fall for him? Or it was just an idealization of the person that she was unconsciously looking for? No, it was not an idealization, y/n had a huge crush on Levi since they met, his way of behaving, his dry and shitty jokes, his appearance, everything. His subtle different actions towards her just made her feel more for him, and maybe she was the only one who noticed them. He was different when they were together, but only the two of them. Nevertheless, that changed when they arrived at the old castle.

The day was looking nice and everyone had duties to accomplish, getting rid of the dust, insects that may have made the castle their home, washing sheets so they could use them at night, and more. y/n was heading to the room she was supposed to clean, hoping to find Levi on her way so maybe they could clean together and... Who knows, perhaps if she could find the right timing or words she could let him know how she felt. As she kept fantasizing on her way to the room, she saw it. And she only had to move his head just a bit to watch the entire scene in front of her eyes.

Levi was standing there, holding a broom on his right hand. It looked as if he wasn't even breathing, his eyes were closed and in front of him? Petra. Her lips were locked on his, Petra's cheeks were completely red and one of her hands was resting on Levi's chest. y/n looked at the image with eyes wide open, her jaw dropped and her heart shattered from one second to another. He didn't push her away, it looked as if he were enjoying the kiss of the red-haired girl. y/n just went back the way she was walking, trying to control the hurricane of emotions forming inside her. When she was finally outside, a tear appeared on her cheek. How could she think that Levi had feelings for her? Clearly she had misinterpreted all of the actions she saw the past few years. What an idiot, she said to herself in a low voice. Cleaning the rebel tear on her cheek, she took a deep breath and tried to forget about the scene she had just witnessed.

But a voice stopped her.

His voice.

''Oi, y/n. Why aren't you cleaning the room you are supposed to?'' He said with a harsh voice, but when he noticed the redness of her eyes and pinkish cheeks he asked again ''What's the matter?''

''Allergies, Captain. But it's fine, I'll go now''

That was all she said before pulling herself together and walking back to the room, and she didn't even look at the first room where she had seen Petra and Levi.

Still outside, Levi furrowed his eyebrows with doubt, why did she call him 'Captain?' They had become closer through the years, closer at the point of she calling him Levi every time they were together.

Something had happened, and he had to figure it out.

That same night after dinner, the entire squad stayed sitting in front of the table speaking about Eren's abilities, or how the expeditions were going to be. But y/n head was somewhere else but not there. Petra was her friend, but it was hard to see her that happy, were she and Levi dating now? Were they a thing? Those were the questions in her head, and they were so loud she didn't even notice that Levi was not looking at Petra when she was talking to him, his eyes were focused on y/n. She has been quiet the entire night, he thought.

''Right, Captain Levi?'' Petra's voice took him out of his thoughts, and he just gave a simple answer. 

''Yes, tomorrow we'll explain the formations for the next expedition. After Eren finishes cleaning the garden.'' Of course, he had been listening to everything in case a question like that came out.

''If you excuse, I'll go now. Good night'' Short and plain as that. y/n stood up and close the door behind her once she was out.

It was weird for everyone to see her like that, she was always talkative, proposing new strategies, and even mocking Levi when Hanji was not around. She even stayed and prepared some tea for everyone, but now she had just left.

Minutes passed and Levi did the same as y/n, he stood up and left the room. Perfect timing, I must say because Hanji had arrived and she was completely excited about her new experiment and she wanted to share it with everyone. Levi walked through the halls of the castle and knocked on your door.

''It's open'' y/n answered, untying her hair from the ponytail. Her heart started beating faster when she saw who walked in, but when she remembered the scene she just felt sad. Very sad.

''You haven't been able to take a shit or what's with you?'' he asked, standing at the door.

''I'm just tired, cleaning this entire thing was exhausting, Captain.'' there it was again.

''You never call me Captain.'' 

''I should, that's what you are after all'' she raised her eyebrows trying to look natural ''And you should try rest for a bit, tomorrow will be exhausting again.''

After that, Levi knew she was done with talking. He just gave her a bored glare and left the room, he was not the kind of man that was going to force her to speak if she didn't want to.

Days went by, and y/n had gained some distance from the group, she cleaned the stables or places where she could be just with her thoughts. But she knew that her friends could be gone on any expedition, even she could lose her life, so making an effort she tried to keep just a bit close to them. How much weight was she going to carry if something happens to them?

Not even speaking about Levi, she was no longer visiting him at his office or getting him some tea when it was late. And of course, he didn't bother her either, if she wanted space that's what he was going to give to her.

___________________________

The ones who remained alive were walking with their heads down, avoiding the look from the people who were looking at them. They had lost many lives, just some a few them were able to be back inside the walls. y/n patted the neck of her horse, the image of the bodies being thrown out of the cart was still on her head. And her heart crushed again. At least, she never told Petra what she saw, and they didn't fight, so guilt was not that terrible.

A rotten tomato fell on her feet, were they really throwing rotten fruit? Yes, apparently people hated the Survey Corps and how the incomes were spent on those expeditions that the only thing they could get, were lost lives.

Once they were back at the HQ, y/n took a shower getting rid of the dry blood and dirt, it was never easy. The fight against the female titan had been one of the toughest events they had to endure, but that was their world. And it was not going to be the last battle.

y/n had run into Erwin when she was heading to the kitchen, and he politely asked her if she could give Levi some reports, and how could she say no to the Commander?

She knocked on the door and when heard Levi saying yes, she walked in. He was looking... Tired, his eyes seemed more bothered than the usual.

''Commander Erwin told me to give you this'' she said while placing the folders on his desk. Not even asking how was he doing.

''Tch'' That's all he said. y/n turned around and walked towards the door again. He was tired of losing people he cared about, so before she could open the door to leave he stood up ''Oi, brat. Get your ass back here'' 

''What is it?''

She said stopping in the middle of the room, looking at Levi getting closer to her. Suddenly, she felt a strong hand on her nape, and then all she could feel was how she was pulled against his body, his face resting somewhere between his chest and his neck. It was a rough hug, not tender, not sweet. And well, Levi was not the softest man around.

She couldn't even move, because her body was surrounded by his grip. The hand that was still on her nape was warm, and y/n felt how Levi articulated his fingers to caress her head. They stood there just for a few seconds before he let her go.

Levi walked back to his desk and sat on the chair while y/n was still on some kind of shock. Did he hug her? Levi Ackerman had just grabbed her by her nape and held her tight against his body, no one would believe her if she told that. It was the very first time he had had such reaction.

''I'm not losing you too'' He said ''Now go and sleep. That's an order''

He started looking at the folders, and y/n left the room. She was not sure about how to react, what was that? Maybe they were just sensitive because of the nightmare they went through. She knew Levi was emotional, but he never ever showed that.

From that moment on, it looked as if Levi was trying to get closer to her, he would create excuses to have her in office, other days he would bring her some tea to her bedroom, he would even set his jacket on her back whenever he found her asleep on a table, or others he would sit by her side without saying a word. And that happened on a Saturday morning.

She was sitting on a bench looking at the guys training, they had joined the SC just a few days later than Eren, and they looked they had energy despite the previous events, y/n smiled to herself while looking at the guys, some training more serious than others.

''I give them one week before they end up like titan shit'' She recognized Levi's voice as he was sitting next to her.

''They have potential, I give them two weeks'' She had joked, first time after all of that self distance. She swallowed hard, gather bravery, and asked him ''Are you ok?''

''Why do you ask?'' Levi looked at her.

''For Petra... I mean, you lost her''

''Yes, and the rest of my squad to'' Levi looked away, and it that moment it hit him. ''Is that why you've been so distant lately? Even before the expedition?'' His voice was calmed, eyes stuck on the kids practicing body to body combat.

''I saw you kissing her, so...''

''Bold of you to assume it was something, brat. She kissed me in a rush, and after she said that it was because she was confused, but still didn't want to die before doing that shit. Right after I told her to keep cleaning. Petra was aware of how short our life can be, that's why she did it, and I just let her.'' y/n looked at him with surprise.

''So there was never anything happening between the two of you?''

''No, you idiot.'' Levi's eyes went to the guys and screamed ''Brats, ten laps now!'' They did as told, starting to run away from the couple sitting on the bench. 

''Why did you do that? They were happy'' she said in amusement, understanding when he grabbed her hand, he wanted to be alone with her.

''Petra was important for me, I lost her already. I don't know what the fuck did you do to me, but I care about you so much and that's fucking annoying.'' squeezing her hand softly, he looked at her again. ''So don't lock yourself without asking first, brat.''

''I was an idiot, the biggest'' She laughed looking at the ground, avoiding his grey gaze.

''You are'' He corrected her, and right after their eyes found. y/n played with his locks, and then spoke.

''Levi, I-'' The black-haired men interrupted her.

''I know. And that makes us two''

He noticed she had feelings for him, he wasn't an idiot, and when he finally understood that she was acting like that because she thought he was dating someone else, just confirmed his thoughts.

y/n lips were against his, her hand cupping his cheek. It was just lips against lips, eyes closed. Simple, short, emotional. When they looked at each other again, y/n gave a smile to him, Levi grabbed her hand again and pressed his lips over her knuckles holding her hand when he was done, her head laying on his shoulder after.

They just sat normally again when the brats return from their first lap, and Levi and y/n would have plenty of time for themselves before the cadets could finish the nine laps the had left.

[whenimaunicorn]

Keep Your Enemies Close - Bobo Del Rey Imagine

Fandom: Wynonna Earp  Rating: Explicit (don’t interact if you’re not over 18 please) Tags: dubcon, trapped in a small space, enemies to lovers

Requested by @that-was-not-supposed-to-happen, prompt line in bold. 

Worst. Decision. Ever. How is it, that when a literal demon from hell comes stalking through Shorty’s, looking to suck the souls of anyone it can grab, I end up choosing the same hiding place as my worst enemy?

“I haven’t heard anything in a few minutes,” I say softly to the big man in the even bigger coat, who is taking up most of the space in the broom closet we have accidentally chosen to share. “I’m going out.”

“Risky,” Bobo del Rey rasps, his mouth only a few inches above my ear.

“Well I’m not staying in here with you.”

“I can assure you that you are safe here… with me.” He puts on his trademark leer and I roll my eyes. Even if some glint in his smile makes me imagine things that set my pussy aching. Wrong time, wrong place, definitely wrong guy. “And I am not letting you open that door,” he continues, settling himself more firmly between me and the handle. “That thing out there has exceptional hearing. One squealing hinge, or particularly loud stomp from those ridiculous boots of yours—”

“You want to talk to me about ridiculous fashion!” I interject.

Bobo cuts me off with his hand splayed wide, his third and fourth fingertips landing on my lips to shush me. “We can’t make any noise,” he whispers. His eyes track quickly over my face in the dim light seeping around the edges of the door.

It’s rare to see him look nervous. That alone scares me enough to shut up, though I jerk away from his hand.

The back of my head contacts something hard, and I hear scraping wood.

“Shit,” Bobo hisses, and reaches out to grab something behind me.

I turn to see that what I had bumped is an assortment of precariously-stacked mops and brooms, which Bobo had narrowly caught before they clattered to the floor.

“Not a lot of room to maneuver in here,” he growls down at me. “You had better stay still.”

I lean away from the jumble of handles as Bobo sets them back against the wall over my shoulder. Which means I’m leaning closer in to him, the brushing of our bodies inevitable. The spicy, heady musk of him fills my nostrils, and there’s no way for me to get further away.

I examine the white patch in his beard, the matching interruption in his brow. I suppose as far as faces one could be stuck having to look at, his is at least an interesting one. My gaze flits to his eyes and I see that he is looking at me too. It’s awkward as fuck. I’m used to only staring at Bobo down the barrel of a gun. Now we’re in here, what, saving each other’s asses?

“How long do we have to wait here?” I ask.

“Until someone sounds the all-clear, I suppose.” His hand goes up in some vague gesture above his head, the movement rocking his body against mine again. The twitchy bastard can’t seem to stop talking with his hands, even in these tight quarters.

I dig my phone out of my pocket to check the time, then realize that I’d better turn it to silent mode before some clueless communication tips off the monster out there. “You’d better turn yours off too,” I say softly.

“Don’t have one.”

I look up at him skeptically. “You really are a man out of time, aren’t you?”

Bobo del Rey tips an imaginary hat at me.

Stuck in broom closet at Shorty’s – I type in a text to Wynonna –You take care of the monster yet?

“Don’t forget to tell her who you’re with,” Bobo breathes in my ear. There’s not really a way to hide my screen from him. Instead, I cover his view briefly with my middle finger. “Fuck you.”

“Now there’s an idea,” he taunts.

I pull back the last inch I had left to get away from him.

My screen lights up, indicating Wynonna has texted me back. Still being handled – stay put.

I slump. The fuck are we supposed to do now?

Bobo’s spindly fingers dance over my shoulder. I shrug him off without looking up. I try to browse Instagram on my phone, distract myself while we wait, but the signal is shitty back here and nothing new will load. I shove my phone back in my pocket in frustration.

Bobo’s fingers slide up the curve of my back.

“What are you doing?”

“Distracting myself.” His hand finds the clasp of my bra, and in one precise motion he unhooks it through my shirt.

“What the fuck!” I swear, feeling my breasts falling heavier, nipples hardening in their new extra space.

“You keep brushing your tits against me,” Bobo complains. “What else am I supposed to think about?”

“I don’t know, not getting your soul sucked out by a hell demon?”

Bobo only shrugs. “This is how I cope.”

I know I should stop him, but when his hands creep under my shirt, and he nuzzles his surprisingly-soft beard into the crook of my neck, I can’t think of a better way to pass the time either. All I can do to keep my pride is to pretend I’m not really into it.

Bobo’s fingertips slide around my sides, underneath my shirt. I try to control my breathing as I wonder how fast and how far he’s going to go. He draws circles around my flanks, like he’s giving me one last chance to complain, then his hands span each side of my ribcage as his thumbs slide under the loosened cups of my bra and make contact with the bottom of my tits.

I close my eyes and exhale as softly as I can, as heat rushes to my core. Bobo’s thumbs slide back and forth, every movement stoking that fire until I wish I had something to lean against. But that would just be a sign of weakness.

The first time his thumbs loop up to brush across my stiffened nipples, a mewl escapes my lips. Bobo’s face moves in front of mine, like somehow he can catch the sound waves before they get too far. “Hush, can’t make a sound, remember?” His tone is teasing, but that can’t be right. Isn’t he just as scared as I am? His open lips ghosts over mine. “I can cover your mouth if you need it,” he offers. “I don’t kiss and tell.”

I draw my neck up, pulling my lips a fraction away from his. “I’m fine,” I decline. “I hope this distraction is working for you. I don’t need any help.”

“Is that all this is,” Bobo rumbles. His fingers come up, capturing both my nipples in a firm pinch. “Just a little something for me.” He tugs down, both at once, and I swallow a yelp. “You’re not getting anything out of this.”

“Nope,” I say quickly, though the lie is obvious in my querulous tone.

Bobo grins a shark’s smile, head cocked right in front of my face. “Well if that’s the case, honey, then I’ve got something in my pants you can use your two hands on. That’d really help me out.”

“I’m not touching you.”

“Oh. Is that how you’re gonna play it.” Bobo squeezes my nipples again, lighter this time, massaging in a rhythmic pattern that finally makes me lean forward against him, just a little, needing the support. My hands press against the tight board of his abs, and I try to ignore the tantalizing urge to explore his body more.

He gives my ear a quick nibble, then pushes my shirt and useless bra up all the way to my collarbones. He gives a deep, masculine growl at the sight of my exposed chest, then leans in to lick across one breast, then the other.

I don’t even know how long he spends sucking on them, only that he does it until I can barely stop myself from squirming, until two white-hot lines of passion are drawing straight from my nipples to my throbbing cunt. I can’t give him the satisfaction of showing how much I need him down there. I would never fuck Bobo del Rey, and thank god this broom closet is too small for him to even be able to try without my help. Even with my help, I’m sure we wouldn’t be able to pull it off without making a heck of a lot of noise.

So I’m safe, relatively. It lets me feel free to allow him to keep making me feel so goddamned good, to let him play with my body as he wishes… knowing he could only take it so far. I can feel his erection straining through his pants every time he moves against me. It feels great to know how much he wants me, and how easily I can deny him.

Bobo’s hand slides down my belly, and pops open the button on my jeans. I breathe out in a burst, at this point only trying to suppress my desire to pant wildly for him. “No harm in a little heavy petting, right?”

No harm indeed. I do nothing to stop him from opening my pants as far as they will go and shoving his hand down inside my panties.

He purrs out a satisfied little noise against my ear as his finger runs straight down my slit, barely even parting my folds. “I knew you’d be this wet for me.”

I can’t even be embarrassed, not when his finger slides so sweet and easy past my last defenses, touching me exactly where I’ve been aching for it. He sinks in to the knuckle, and I only barely stop myself from moaning his name.

He gathers up my arms with his other hand, sweeping them behind my back and holding them there in a way that makes me arch my back and lean one shoulder into his chest. I’m bare to his eye from tits to cunt, my posture opened to give him the best possible view in this dim little room. The rush of his breath hardens my nipples all over again, and two fingers are now pulsing rhythmically inside me.

“You’re gonna give me everything, aren’t you.”

I shake my head, even as I bear down harder on his penetrating digits. “I’m never going to let you fuck me, Bobo. But I bet you wish I would.”

“Mmmmm you know I do,” he murmurs into my ear. “I can feel how tight and slick this pussy is. I’ve got some tricks with my fingers,” he makes some swirling motion that makes me bite my tongue to stop from calling out, “but can you imagine how much better it will feel with my cock in there? So much longer, and thicker…” He leans in and pumps as aggressively as he can manage with my legs still together.

“You gonna make me cum, Bobo?” I challenge, feeling the potential for orgasm sweeping up my whole body already.

He cocks his head to the side as I look up at him through my hair. “I’m not sure if that would be a good idea,” he teases. “We are supposed to be keeping quiet. And I have a feeling that you,” he presses his steely eyes closer to mine, “are a screamer.”

“Didn’t you offer to cover my mouth?”

The corner of Bobo’s lip tugs up in a smile. “That I did.” He leans down and presses a ferocious kiss to my mouth, tongue parting and invading me almost immediately. I answer eagerly with my own tongue, too far gone now to pretend I still don’t care, and he scrapes down it with his teeth. Bobo’s kiss is devouring, and all the while he’s rubbing against my clit, still curling his fingertips tight inside my body.

The kissing doesn’t last long. Bobo maneuvers me suddenly so that my back is against his front, fingers still buried in me. “The things I want to do to you…” he growls against the skin of my neck. “There’s no way you would be able to keep from screaming.”

I had almost forgotten this was a demon revenant with his hands all over me.

“But they’ll be worth it,” he promises, shifting his pumping fingers into a toe-curling angle, and wrapping his other hand squarely across my mouth, making me lean against his chest to stay balanced. “You come see me again, you’ll cry and you’ll scream, but I’ll make you feel like this, too.” He licks along the edge of my jaw. “At least four more times.” Then he pumps into just the right spot to make that mind-numbing crest of orgasm start to blaze.

I do want to scream when it hits me, my body seizing up around his wicked fingers and almost trying to reject the pleasure at the same time that I finally succumb to it. I keep the volume as low as I’m able, and Bobo’s big hand wrapped across my mouth muffles the rest to something that probably won’t attract any unwanted attention. Bobo holds on as all the subsequent waves hit me, my body milking the fingers he has buried as deep inside as he’s able, the heel of his hand still rocking against my clit and forcing every last bit of pleasure out of me as I pant and shake.

When I’m coming down I keep my back leaning against him, the fur of his ridiculous coat tickling my cheek as I catch my breath, languid in my afterglow. He removes his hand from my mouth in favor of stroking knuckles along my cheek. “That was beautiful,” Bobo praises, and something in his tone feels just a little too awed, a little too real. I’m not ready to think of Bobo del Rey as a person, more than just a monster that I had allowed to use me just this one time.

So I pull my shirt back down hastily, balancing onto my own two feet, though his hands stay on my hips as I try to break contact.

Not a moment too soon. A few brisk steps sound in the hallway, and then the door is yanked open, light streaming in. Bobo’s back is to the door, and I have to thank the enormous coat now, because it blocks my situation from Wynonna’s view. I know it’s Wynonna that opened the door, because she immediately curses at the sight of that brown fur and sputters, “Bobo?”

I button my pants quickly as he smirks down at me, trying to catch my eye for a final goodbye. Instead, I push past him. “I’m here, Wynonna. Safe and sound.”

She’s standing in the hallway with Peacemaker in both hands, Waverly standing a pace behind her. Her brows are drawn so high they almost reach her hairline. “What are you doing in there with him?” Wynonna even grabs my elbow and pulls me a little behind her as Bobo del Rey emerges fully from the broom closet behind me.

I scowl over her shoulder. “He picked the same hiding place as me.”

“Well.” Wynonna’s clearly not sure what to say, thrown off by the unexpected sight of her usual enemy in such close quarters.

Bobo doffs his hand in front of his face, giving her a mocking little bow. “And I thank you for the rescue today, Earp.”

Wynonna just scowls at him, and starts to walk away. “I’ll deal with you another time. I’m going to find a way to get Shorty’s out of your hands,” she promises.

“Of course you are,” Bobo says, voice dripping with condescension. Then his eyes rivet onto my face. “As promised, I got you through it, safe and sound.”

I strike a disaffected pose, showing off for Wynonna and Waverly, even as my limbs still have a slight tremble from the powerful orgasm this man had just given me. “Oh yeah, you’re great in a crisis, Bobo.”

Wynonna is already pulling me away.

Bobo smirks after me. “Maybe you'll let me buy you an ice cream some time.”

I wave a noncommittal hand at him, as Wynonna screws up her face and turns to me. “What?”

I shrug as we turn the corner back into the main room of Shorty’s. “He thinks we're friends now.”

Waverly quickens her step to come up to my other side. I feel her hand brush up across my back, unimpeded. “Hey, is your bra unhooked?”

[highfivecalum]

The Bet {CH} 14 {Final}

omg you guys this is the last chapter of the bet and i’m so sad about it!!! but thank you so much to everybody who read this and gave me love i love love you all!

YOU DIDN’T think your day could get any worse. Your first and only class of the day lasted an extra hour since your professor decided he wanted to get off topic and talk about his three dogs and while the dogs were cute, you were tired and just wanted the class to end. You decided you wanted a drink and some food at the local pub so you went there by yourself, not bothering to invite Peyton- since the two of you talked and you forgave her even though she still hadn’t explained to you why she was talking to Calum- or Michael, and ordered your food and a few drinks.

On the walk back to your apartment from the pub, a truck drove past you and splashed a puddle all over you. So you were soaking wet and cold from the shitty Spring weather, and all you wanted to do was go home and change into warm and comfortable clothes, but you when you got home, you weren’t able to do that.

Your apartment door was ajar and you swore you remembered shutting and locking it before you left that morning. You poked your head in, your eyes widening when they saw your destroyed apartment, and you realized someone had broken in. You panicked at first, like anybody would, but quickly got your phone out to call Michael to come over. When he didn’t answer, you called Peyton, who also didn’t answer. You didn’t want to go inside of your apartment alone, obviously scared that the person who broke in would still be in there, and you could only think of one other person to call. Calum.

Your thumb hovered over the call button. You weren’t sure if you wanted to call him or not, but you were terrified of going inside alone, so you pushed your pride to the side and pressed call. The phone rang for barely a second before Calum answered.

“Hello?” His tone sounded confused and a little bit surprised.

“Um, hi, Calum.”

“Hey, Y/N.” He exhaled a breath at the sound of your voice. You hadn’t spoken to him since the night the two of you yelled at each other outside of the bar, which was almost two full weeks, and he missed your voice. He missed you in general and he hoped that you missed him, too. “Are you, uh, are you okay?”

“I’m not really sure.” You mumbled. “Somebody broke into my apartment and I’m, uh, kinda scared to go inside by myself so I was just wondering if you could come over and check it out with me?” The line was quiet and you took your bottom lip between your teeth. Why would you call him? Of course he wouldn’t want to drop everything he’s doing to help you. “I mean, unless you’re busy. I called Peyton and Michael, but they didn’t answer.”

“No, no. I’m not busy at all. I’ll be there in five minutes.” You could hear rustling on the other end. You felt bad that you were pulling him away from whatever it was he was doing, but you were happy that he was willing to help you even though the two of you weren’t speaking.  “Don’t go inside until I get there, yeah?”

“Yeah, okay.” You breathed a sigh of relief. Calum was true to his word and showed up to your apartment in just under five minutes. You were leaning against the wall down the hall, too scared to go any closer to your door, and biting your nails nervously. “Thanks for coming.”

“Of course.” Calum smiled at the sight of you. Even though your shirt was soaking wet, which he wondered why, you still looked amazing to him. “Stay out here until I tell you to come in, okay?”

You tried to protest, but Calum all but forced you to stay outside, so you did and waited impatiently. He walked around your apartment, checking every room and closet to make sure nobody was inside, and when he was sure he was the only one there he told you to come in. You frowned at the sight of your apartment. Broken vases and the pictures on your walls and side tables smashed on the floor. You checked your bedroom, finding your TV and laptop missing.

“Anything missing?” Calum asked as he cleaned some of the glass off the floor.

“My laptop and TV.” You got a dustpan and broom out and cleaned up along with Calum.

“Do you think you should call the police? They might be able to help. Check the cameras in the hall, you know?”

Calum was right, so you called the police and they arrived shortly after. You told them what was missing and since you didn’t see the person who did it, you had no description to give them, which didn’t help at all. They told you they would check the cameras and see if they could get a good look at the guy, but it wasn’t sounding too promising.

“I would suggest staying somewhere else tonight.” The policeman spoke as he wrote down what you had told him. “Is there anywhere else you could stay?”

You could stay with Michael, or Peyton, but neither of them answered the phone and you didn’t want to keep bothering them. You knew they wouldn’t mind you blowing their phones up, especially under the given circumstances, but you still felt bad. “She can stay with me.” Calum offered and you looked up at him in surprise. “I mean,” Calum looked down at you. “If you want to.”

“Are you her boyfriend?” The policeman asked and you rolled your lips into your mouth.

I wish, Calum wanted to say. “Just a friend.”

You hated that Calum was just a friend and you hated hearing him say it, but you could only blame yourself, because you hadn’t given him the chance to redeem himself. You wanted to trust him, of course you did, but you weren't sure if you could. You would let him explain, sure, but you weren’t sure if you could just jump into a relationship with him after that. Your trust was hard to earn, and Calum had it to being with, but after finding out you were just a petty bet, all trust was lost.

“Are you okay with that, ma’am?”

“Yeah.” The corners of your lips turned up, just slightly, but Calum noticed and couldn’t stop himself from smiling. He hadn’t even thought about what he was saying when he offered for you to stay with him, but he was glad you didn’t decline his offer. “Yeah. That’s fine.” You thanked the police once more after telling you they would keep in touch about your missing laptop and TV.

“Do you want to clean up a little?”

“Not really. I’ll just do it tomorrow.” You exhaled a sigh. Your day was already long enough and cleaning up broken glass was the last thing you wanted to do. “‘M gonna go pack a bag and then we can go?”

Calum nodded his head and while you packed a small overnight back he took it upon himself to clean up more glass. He didn’t want you to have to deal with it the next day and he owed it to you to help clean, so he did, even though you tried to get him to stop.

You had changed out of your wet shirt into a sweatshirt and kept your jeans on, but Calum still thought you looked gorgeous. He always thought you looked gorgeous. He stood up from his crouching position and cleared his throat. “You ready?” You nodded your head and locked the door behind you and followed Calum to his car.

The car ride was silent. And awkward. And you weren't sure what to say to Calum. You wanted to talk to him, you really did, but about what? You didn’t know. You picked at your nails that seriously needed to be repainted and exhaled a deep breath. “Thank you for coming, Calum.”

“Of course.” Calum’s eyes never strayed from the road in front of him. “I would drop anything I was doing to help you, Y/N.” He finally looked at you. With a small smile on his face and a blush on his cheeks, you knew he was telling the truth, and that made your heart flutter. “And I uh, I just want you to know that me inviting you to stay over wasn’t just a ploy to try and get into your pants. I want you to be safe.”

“I know that, Cal.” The corners of his mouths turned up at the use of his nickname. You hadn’t meant to call him that, it just felt natural and slipped out, but he didn’t seem to mind. It felt good to talk to him like this; not yelling or arguing like you had done the last time the two of you had an interaction and spoke. You wanted it to stay that way. “And I appreciate it. I really do.”

Ashton and Luke weren’t home when you arrived at Calum’s house, which you were happy about, and the two of you went right upstairs to his room. “You can sleep in here. I’ll sleep on the couch.”

You set your bag down and smiled at him. “You sure?”

“Absolutely. It’s the least I could do.” Calum left his room, leaving you be, and you sighed.

You changed into a pair of sleep shorts and took one of Calum’s sweatshirts to wear, instead of wearing one of your own, and got comfortable in his bed. You had slept in it twice before and you forgot how comfortable it was. Much more than yours. You tossed and turned all night, being the most restless you had ever been, and you knew exactly why. You knew it was because you were alone in Calum’s bed, without him, and you wished that he was cuddled up next to you, running his fingers through your hair.

After two hours of tossing and turning, you checked the time to find it was already two in the morning. You kicked the sheets off of your body and quietly tiptoed down the stairs. Calum wasn’t asleep on the couch like you thought he would be and before you could even wonder where he was, you saw a puff of smoke in the air outside, so you opened the slide door and found him sitting on the swing that was on his back porch.

“Hey.” Your voice was quiet, barely above a whisper, as you sat down next to him. His head shot up from the cigarette that was dangling in between his fingers. He stared at you, at your face, as if he was trying to burn it into his memory. Which he kind of was. He wasn’t sure if this was the last time the two of you would talk or hang out or be around each other, so he wanted to remember it. “What are you doing up?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” He flicked the ash off of the end of his cigarette.

“Couldn’t sleep.” You shrugged. “Your room is too cold. Would be warmer with you in it.”

Calum extinguished his cigarette and looked at you with tired eyes. He wanted to ask you the question he had been wondering for weeks since you found out you were just a bet, but he was scared of your answer. But, he pushed his reluctance to the side and finally asked. “Do you hate me?”

You shook your head. “No. I don’t hate you, Calum. You just really hurt me.” You wanted to tell him that you still liked him, still had feelings for him, still wanted to be with him, but you weren’t sure if you should or not. Not yet, at least. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Anything.”

“Why were you texting Peyton?”

“What?”

“Last week. You were texting Peyton.”

“Oh.” Calum mumbled and ran his fingers through his curly hair. “I was- she was trying to help me find a way to win you back.” Calum exhaled a quiet laugh at how stupid he sounded. “I was going to plan a dinner or something to show you how much I like you, show you that it wasn’t just a bet, and Peyton was going to help me.”

“Seriously?” You rolled your lips into your mouth to suppress your laughter. “You enlisted Peyton to help you?” Calum nodded his head with a small blush on his face and you smiled. You believed that he liked you, you really did, but it was hard for you to trust him. “I believe you. I believe that you really do like me and not just for a bet.”

“Really? You do?” Calum’s eyes lit up, just a little, but you could see hope in them.

“I guess I kind of have to, I mean, you talked my best friend into helping you.” You laughed and Calum smiled, wide this time. “I want to give you another chance, I do, but it’s going to take a little while for me to trust you fully again.”

“And it should. I totally fucked up and I know it, but I swear to you, I’m going to make it up to you. And I’m going to show you that I want to be with you. I want to make this work, Y/N. I-” Calum stopped and sucked in a breath.”

“You what?”

“I’m fucking crazy about you.” He laughed at the realization. “And I know it might sound crazy, but I think-” Calum inhaled a deep breath and closed his eyes. “I think I might love you, Y/N.”

“Calum-”

“I know, I know,” he cut you off. “It’s way too soon for I love you’s, but you’re unlike any girl I’ve ever met, and if you let me; I swear to God I’ll love the fucking shit out of you.”

You couldn’t help the huge grin that appeared on your face, your cheeks burning from the blush on them and hurting from smiling so wide at Calum’s revelation. You believed him, so you stood up, extending your hand out to him, and he took it. He looked at you with furrowed eyebrows. You knew you were going to forgive Calum, after all, he had almost completely proved that he really did want to be with you. And telling you that he might love you? Well, you thought that just made everything okay again. You would have forgiven him sooner, but you wanted to make sure that he was telling the truth, not just using you like he did before.

“What are you doing?”

“We are going to sleep. We can talk more about this tomorrow. We can talk more about us tomorrow. Okay? Right now I just-I just want to be with you again.”

“Yeah. Okay.” Calum didn’t argue with that. He didn’t want to ruin the moment. He just wanted to be with you and after so long he finally was. He thought it was too good to be true, really, but he wasn’t going to say that to you. He didn’t want to hinder his chances of being with you.

The whole time you were dragging Calum behind you, up the stairs and to his room, he couldn’t keep the smile off of his face. He watched you crawl into his bed like you had done it a million times and he shed himself of his shirt, and once he was in his bed, his body molded into yours. He nuzzled his face into your neck, exhaling a long and content sigh, happy to finally be with you again. And he knew, for the first time in weeks, months even, that everything was going to be okay. And with you, finally by his side, he was going to be okay.

❀❀❀

Taglist: @babylonshood @mysticalhood @friendly-neighborhood-michelle@peyton5sauce @honeycombcal @my-world97@lukesflaredpants@backstreetbarakat @tothemoonwithclifford@grreatgooglymoogly@therainydays4 @lukespenguin-97 @lifeakaharry@akacalciumhood @ashtxns-hxe @rexorangecouny @fivewachinessos@visioninwords @pancahke@monster-among-michael @calumhoodslays@wantirwinback @qualitylu@sumlariss @calumsbabydolll @juliabrghs@shawnsbooties @whosash@insecuritieeseatmealive @ashtonwahs @hopelessxcynic @werealrighthough@trinitychico @ghostofhood@comingcalum @calistajs @sleepysavya@cliffordcntrl @qualitylu@thefecesofearth @cliffordcntrl @ghstofcalum

[spacecaced]

Can you please do prompt #59 with Billy? Thank you

honestly thank you for the ask! I’m trying to work more with dialogue and I used this as a bit of an exercise. I just went with the first thing that popped into my head and ran with it so! hope you enjoy – 

#59: “I could punch you right now.”

Steve wasn’t really looking for a job, it wasn’t like he needed the money, but with the house to himself most of the time and nothing to do it would have been ridiculous to just sit around doing nothing. Plus, no matter how absentee his parents were for extended amounts of time, Steve still had trouble justifying spending their money.

Of course, the choices for jobs in Hawkins were slim – unless you counted the frequent openings at the arcade which, no, just no – in the end it was a help wanted sign pinned to the local diner that caught his eye.

He started work on a Wednesday and became fast friends with Robin, another waitress, by that Friday.

After working at the diner for half the summer things were starting to get predictable for Steve.

On Monday mornings there was little to no business in the except for a few regulars who wanted a cup of joe while reading their paper. Tuesdays were meant for Nancy and Jonathan, who came by to split a basket of fries and a milkshake, always perfectly timed with Steve’s break so he could join them. Wednesday was uneventful but every Thursday there would be a booth in Steve’s section teaming with rowdy kids – because apparently the party have nothing better to do than bother Steve while he’s busy at work – and then there’s Saturday.

“Your usual is here, Stevie.” Robin’s voice calls from the cash register.

He can practically see the shit-eating grin on her face.

Steve glances up from where he’d been sorting everything behind the display case – like maybe Robin’s just teasing him again like she tends to but sure enough his regular is right on time – and sees Billy Hargrove sitting in his section pretending to look through the menu like he doesn’t have it memorized front to back.

As soon as Steve gets to the table he immediately picks up on the scent clinging to Billy, the faint metallic and vaguely oil heavy smell from working at the auto shop in town, it always annoyed him that Billy seemed to come straight from work for the express purpose of disrupting his day.

Robin liked to call it romantic, Steve calls it a pain in the ass.

“Any chance you’re just going to give me your order?” Steve asks, hopefully.

Billy gives him a look, one that conveys a lot all at once but mainly the saying yeah right in all its sarcastic glory, and Steve’s last remaining hopes die, “Could I hear the specials?”

His voice is sugary sweet, and Steve has the blinding urge to stab him with the pen he uses to jot down orders.

But he actually likes having a job and a clean criminal record and both would be utterly tarnished if he snapped right here and now, so he reads out the specials through clenched teeth with a fake ass smile that makes his cheeks hurt – it’s not like Billy doesn’t come in every fucking day at the same time, it’s not like he hasn’t been doing this for months, it’s not like he doesn’t know the whole menu from front to back – and Billy just looks up at him with that lazy grin of his.

“The specials are on the back of the menu, Billy.”

“My eyes are tired.”

Steve takes a deep breath, wants to pinch the bridge of his nose and toss his hands up in surrender, “God, I could punch you right now.”

“Kinky, could you read me the specials first?”

The diner is pretty empty right now, Steve swears that’s the only reason he gives in to Billy’s request – it has nothing to do with the fact that he looks like a puppy with those wide eyes to counter Steve’s unamused stare – the specials are the same as they are every Saturday morning but Billy listens on like he’s hearing it all for the first time.

“Satisfied?” Steve asks once he’s rattled off the memorized list.

“Sure am,” He says with a wink, handing Steve his menu, “you’ve got the prettiest voice, Harrington, anyone ever tell you that?”

“Just you, every Saturday.”

It’s like Billy has a new routine of flirtations to try out on him but of all the things that change, that genuine little comment stays the same. Steve can’t deny that it does soften him up just a little, but still, just because Billy is annoyingly cute sometimes it doesn’t mean he’s gotta like being interrupted at work.

“So,” he says after a moment of Billy not bothering to add anything else – just staring at him with those blue eyes, “the usual?”

“Please.”

“Comin’ right up.”

Billy’s usual is easy to remember and by the time he makes it over to Robin she’s already getting out the apple pie from behind the display case. “You know, I’d kill for someone to visit me during work; I’d even settle for someone even half as hot as him.”

Robin never minces words, it’s one of the things Steve appreciates most about her, but right now he just wants to stick his head in the microwave, “You want him? You can have him.”

��You know you don’t mean that, plus you two are cute with all the flirting. It’s like, my only form of entertainment between getting Mrs. Jeffries her coffee and switching the tv over to the sports channel for Benny.”

“Billy just loves to come and bother me at work. I think it’s his only joy in life.”

“Don’t forget the apple pie and free coffee refills.” Robin chips in as Steve grabs a mug.

Steve fills the mug and adds two sugar cubes and a splash of creamer before grabbing the plate of apple pie from Robin. “That’s fair, pretty sure he’s going to be diabetic at the rate he’s going though.”

It’s not like Billy’s the only one who has a sweet tooth in town, so Steve’s used to serving slices of pie and hot coffee to numerous customers that come in.

The apple pie is fresh and warm, with a flaky crust packed full of cinnamon syrup drenched apples, and the it doesn’t take much for Steve to balance the plate and the mug of coffee, depositing them at Billy’s table with haste as more customers start to filter in.

“What’s the rush, can’t you spend a little more time with your favorite customer?”

“You’re not my favorite, you hardly even tip that well.” Steve accuses, sliding him the mug of coffee and watching as Billy almost immediately burns his tongue by taking a sip.

He looks offended – both at the coffee cup and at Steve simultaneously – “Now that just hurts.”

“It’s okay, you seem the type to recover quickly. Now, can I get back to my job?” Steve asks, eyeing the two tables he hasn’t greeted yet, but Billy grasps his wrist before he can move away.

“Before you go, I was wondering, you got any plans tonight?”

It’s not the first time Billy’s asked that question.

“Actually, yeah. My boyfriend’s taking me out after my shift ends.” Steve’s response never varies, and Billy doesn’t look surprised either, just thoughtful with that same playfulness shining through.

“Huh, lucky guy.”

Steve feels himself smile, more on instinct than anything else, he just can’t help it, “I think I’m the lucky one though.”

Billy is taken aback, eyebrows raised but the smile stays, “Yeah? He must be pretty special.”

“You have no idea.”

With that, Billy lets him go and Steve pulls on the fakest most nauseatingly cheerful smile he can muster for the remaining tables he has to wait on. Distantly – while the family take the chance to ask damn near a million pointless questions – he can hear Robin making small talk with Billy as she refills his coffee and Steve feels slightly less overwhelmed as he seats newcomers and takes orders, refills waters, and reads out the specials five more times.

When he finally makes it back to Billy’s table, already wanting to go home, Robin had already given him his check. On the table is a tip and a napkin with a cheesy line scrawled on it in Billy’s neat handwriting. Steve rolls his eyes, even with no one around to see, and gets back to work, losing himself in the lunch rush as he waits for his time to be over.

The clock ticks so loudly it’s almost deafening, the second hand seeming to drag as Steve’s eyes remained glued to the movement while he aimlessly sweeps the tile flooring of the diner. He always does a shitty job of cleaning up, but with just him and Robin on closing duty Steve can feel free to slack off a bit.

In his defense, it’s hard to focus on anything but the idea of getting out of this fluorescent light bulb hell. Steve’s got someone waiting for him and that’s the only thing he can keep his mind on for long.

He keeps sweeping though, until it’s time for him to clock out and Robin grabs the broom from Steve’s hands, already shooing him towards the door, “Dude I got this, wouldn’t want to keep lover boy waiting.”

And Steve, he really adores her, “You’re the best.”

Robin waves him off – because really, she doesn’t need anyone to tell her that – “Oh I know, now go on live for the both of us!”

He doesn’t have to be told twice before he’s clocking out – Steve really likes his job, but there’s something he likes a bit more, maybe even loves – and heading out those double doors to absolute freedom.

The night sky twinkles with the faintness of stars and the flickering lamplights in the parking lot are no less creepy than when Steve first started working at the diner, but none of that matters when he spots the midnight blue Camaro.

“Are you ever going to stop annoying me at work?” Steve asks as soon as he slides into the passenger seat of the car.

Billy doesn’t even have the decency to apologize, “Nope.” he pops the ‘p’ sound and leans over to steal a kiss that Steve’s been craving since he saw Billy licking the cinnamon syrup off his fork.

He tastes like home and smells like Steve’s cologne – the same cologne that Billy has complained about multiple times since it doesn’t smell all fancy like his own – and his lips are warm, his hair just a little damp from a shower and Steve just, god he melts into Billy each time.

“Admit it,” Billy says, lips still brushing against Steve’s, “you love it when I tease you.”

“I admit absolutely nothing.”

But just saying that admits everything.

The truth is, Steve loves that Billy never seems to tire of being around him, even if it was at work and they had to keep up appearances – Robin being the only one who knew about them – it always makes his heart beat that much louder and his pulse quicken whenever Billy shoots him one of those disarmingly warm smiles.

“You were admitting a lot earlier though,” Billy teases, as Steve sinks back against his seat but keeps his fingers laced with Billy’s rested and linked together over the center console, “you think I’m special,” he sings, drawing out the word even as Steve groans.

“You totally led me to saying that you jerk.”

The grin on his face gives away how happy he is though, even as he turns away to stare out the window, trying and failing to hide his smile. It doesn’t last long though since Billy’s purposefully driving slow enough to catch nearly every red light at this time of night, with hardly anyone out on the road, bringing Steve’s hand up to kiss the back of it with each stop of the glowing red lights.

Whenever Steve gets off work Billy’s always there to pick him up in the blue Camaro that’s just another piece of the world they share together. In this car going at whatever speed Billy sees fit, they’re completely untouchable, just them and the road. Most of the time they go back to Steve’s house, the one that’s so empty even his quiet thoughts sound like yelling in his head, but on nights like this Billy just drives and drives, Steve completely content to go along for the ride.

Sometimes they make it all the way to Chicago and other days they barely get to the next town, just find somewhere to park and lay on the hood of the car with their hands held and their thoughts out in the open. They have similar dreams and Steve thinks, the more time passes, the more he cares less and less for the idea of where he’ll be and the more he tries to make sure that Billy, no matter what, is there beside him.

“You know,” Billy says, once they’ve passed their third stop light, “I think you got it wrong earlier though, pretty boy, you might think you’re lucky but me? I struck gold with you.”

Steve’s face heats immediately, a gut reaction even after all the times Billy has left his heart out there, it still catches him by surprise, “Babe…”

For all the teasing and all the games they play, Billy’s still the one who can pull out something heartfelt and keep Steve floundering. It’s so ridiculous how every word just falls out of his mind. Usually Billy just admires how caught off guard he looks – makes a comment about how pretty he thinks Steve looks when he’s speechless – but tonight isn’t like that at all.

Steve knows just what to say, squeezing Billy’s hand as they keep driving, “I don’t just think you’re special Billy, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

He’s sure Billy could possibly wreck the car with such a declaration, but instead his eyes shine under the night sky and they both pretend that they’re not emotional wrecks ready to cry over it. They just hold each other’s hands a little tighter and know that whatever they say, however they say it, whatever it sounds like, it all means the same thing.

I love you.

[nancywheelxr]

Batfam Week: Day 2 - Trapped

through different colored glasses

The Justice League, Hal Jordan and Oliver Queen in particular, love to say that Bruce is too serious.

They say he needs to lighten up. They say he is too anal about things. They say he is too strict. They say a whole lot of things.

But Hal Jordan and Oliver Queen do not have to deal with things like this.

“Bruce, I’m telling you,” Tim says, frantically, “this is in no way my fault. If I had to blame anyone, it would be Dick anyway!”

“Me?” Dick cries, scandalized that his brother would throw him under the bus like this, and almost lets the ice pack slip from his black eye, “why is it my fault?”

“I don’t know,” Jason drawls, sounding utterly bored by the whole situation, “I think I agree with Replacement on this.”

or, alternatively, Bruce confiscates Jason's rocket launcher and sets off a chain reaction, Dick somehow gets dragged into Jason's mess, Tim wishes his brothers weren't maniacs, and maybe it's really a matter of points of view

The Justice League, Hal Jordan and Oliver Queen in particular, love to say that Bruce is too serious.

They say he needs to lighten up. They say he is too anal about things. They say he is too strict. They say a whole lot of things.

But Hal Jordan and Oliver Queen do not have to deal with things like this.

“Bruce, I’m telling you,” Tim says, frantically, “this is in no way my fault. If I had to blame anyone, it would be Dick anyway!”

“Me?” Dick cries, scandalized that his brother would throw him under the bus like this, and almost lets the ice pack slip from his face, “why is it my fault?”

“I don’t know,” Jason drawls, sounding utterly bored by the whole situation, “I think I agree with Replacement on this.”

Bruce should intervene before it escalates further, he really should. Even if it’s nearing four in the morning and he has a board meeting at 8 am. Alfred wouldn’t be happy if Bruce just went back to bed and left them to resolve this on their own. He sighs, rubbing his eyes, “keep your voices down, Alfred is sleeping. Good. Now, start from the beginning.”

Dick and Tim immediately begin talking over each other. He doesn’t know what else he expected, really. “One at a time.”

“Fine,” Jason says, leaning against his rocket launcher, “I’ll start.”

*

All Jason wants is to get Roxy back.

Honest.

She is an integral part of his arsenal and she has so many memories attached to her. The emotional value is priceless. Like, remember that time he tried to blow up an entire building with Black Mask inside? Good times, he knows.

So yeah, Jason wants Roxy, his beloved rocket launcher, back.

And in all fairness, Bruce had no business confiscating it this time. He hadn’t been planning on firing her against Penguin’s stupid warehouse. It was just for intimidating purposes, mostly.

But getting her back, it’s not gonna be easy, Jason knows. Since the last time, he bets Bruce won’t simply lock her in the armory.

Since asking is not an option, and apologizing is entirely too unfair on his part, Jason does what he has to do. He waits until everyone is out on patrol and Alfred is down in the Cave, and sneaks into the Manor.

It’s quite easy, in fact. Less than fifteen minutes and he’s silently roaming the empty hallways.

You’d expect more, it being Batman’s house and all.

The tracker says it’s not downstairs. Jason walks around aimlessly, watching the tiny red dot blinking on his phone as it grows and shrinks with each turn.

Not in any of the bedrooms, not in the living room, not in the pantry. The second floor, past the music room, past another row of unused bedrooms, past Bruce’s study, past–

Finally. In one of the old ass broom closets.

Jason opens it slowly, cringing at how loud it creaks in the otherwise silent house.

Peering inside, he sighs in relief. There she is. Cue in shitty cliche music. Roxy, in all her rocket glory, stands in the corner of the room, the only shiny object among all the dust-coated, forgotten things.

Ah, how long have they stood there? Forsaken by mankind, refused by society. Sitting in a shrine of dust and cobwebs, never to see sunlight again–

*

“Oh for the love of god, Jason,” Tim kicks him in the shin, wincing when the movement jostles his sprained wrist, “quit bullshitting, your prose sucks.”

Bruce feels the beginning of a headache growing at the back of his head. Stress then. “Jason, please,” he sighs, “just cut to the chase.”

“Fine, fine. Jeez, talk about a tough crowd.”

*

Anyway. Where was he?

Oh, right.

So, Jason steps inside. And promptly dies a little more inside. Cobwebs stick to his everything. They get in his hair, on his clothes, even on his damn shoes. Of all the days to leave his helmet behind.

But he powers through. All for Roxy, do it for Roxy, he tells himself.

Finally, after crossing miles of disgusting cobwebs, Jason is reunited with his baby. She looks as gorgeous as the day he bought her, shiny and cool and deadly.

With his mission accomplished, he steels himself for the trek back.

In a totally unrelated note chain of events, a vase is knocked out by something– that may or may not have been Roxy as Jason turned around, but no one can prove that, so– and ends up falling to its side, knocking out a row of boxes that had been beside it on the highest shelf in the process, and then, as it topples down, one of the boxes falls open, letting a bowling ball roll away.

And, in a true feat of the Universe deciding to fuck over Jason, the ball hits the door. Or, more specifically, it hits the doorknob. Breaking it right off.

“Fuck no,” says Jason, with feeling. He hugs Roxy closer, cursing every god in existence and a few fake ones too, just because. If this was anyone else’s house, he wouldn’t think twice before kicking the door down.

But, as previously stated, this story is set on Batman’s house. Jason doesn’t trust an of the doors not to have some freaky sensor thing that’ll alert the big, bad Bat of any disturbance. He’s half convinced it already might have. For all he knows, Bruce could be a second away to breaking it down himself and yelling at Jason.

Even ignoring that particularly upsetting prospect, there’s a lot of ways he could open that door. He could pick the lock, he could unscrew the hinges, he could blow it off with Roxy. The only problem is that all of them are way too noisy for this way too silent place. At this hour Alfred is probably back upstairs, making post-patrol snacks. He would most definitely hear any attempt of messing with the door, Alfred has superhearing when it comes to the Manor, everybody knows that.

And Alfred Pennyworth’s wrath is way worse than Batman’s.

Jason checks the time. While breaking in had taken no time at all, wandering around certainly did. If tonight was slow, and it sounds like it was, they will all be back soon. He turns on his comm, just to check. Tuning in the frequency, he listens as Dick babbles about his stupid day job. Jason turns it off, cursing. If the idiot is babbling that much already, they must on their way back.

Now there really is no way out. Nothing that Jason knows would be fast enough to get him out before they all arrived. You can’t outrace the Batmobile. He is trapped.

Sliding down the dusty, moldy wall, Jason wallows in well-earned, very justified, self-pity, and waits.

Time seems to slow down to spite him further, a way for the Universe to fuck you in big, bold, neon letters. Well, fuck you too, buddy. He waits and waits and waits and waits, but nobody comes his way, because Bruce lives in this unnecessarily, ridiculously giant ass Manor with an unreasonable number of empty ass rooms.

Fed up with the whole situation, Jason ponders his options. On one hand, he could stay there forever, trapped in this tiny, disgusting broom closet, which by the way, has no brooms whatsoever, and waste away into eternity. Maybe he could live off the spiders for a bit, rats if he’s lucky. His arm too, he won’t need two to live in a closet. It might buy him a few months. Or, on the other hand, he could swallow his pride and call someone to come let him out of the damn closet.

He eyes the cobwebs on the upper right corner. Yeah, no, too disgusting. He can’t eat spiders, too creepy, too many legs, too many eyes. Nope, not gonna do it.

Calling someone it is.

Bruce is a no-go, obviously. The Brat, too. He would lord it over his head forever. Alfred? Nah, he would give Jason his disappointed look and shake his head in that sad way, and Jason would be left feeling like the worst person ever. Cass? Fuck, no, she’s still in Hong Kong. Tim, then? Maybe. The kid would definitely be the less annoying option. But he would also be a little shit about it, Jason would never hear the end of it. So that leaves… Dick? Really? Is he that desperate yet?

Let’s be real, he is.

But then again, Dick can be persuaded not to tell on him. If Jason uses the brother card right, maybe he can convince the idiot to keep quiet.

Yeah, he can do this. He survived being exploded, he can survive this.

So he sends him a text, help pls.

To which, Dick answers with a call. Jason declines, they’re operating in stealth mode here. Cant talk, u at the manor?

Yeah where are u? Whats going on? Are u hurt? His phone is thankfully on silent, buzzing with the new messages.

fine, he sends. Then, come to the broom closet next door to the next study after Bruce’s.

what?

quick no time for questions

Sighing deeply, Jason buries his hand on his hands. This is a nightmare. This is all his bad karma kicking his ass. This is hell, this is purgatory– in fact, this is the lovechild of hell and purgatory.

Then, just as he was about to despair, there’s a soft knock on the door. “Jason?”

“Shhh,” he winces at the loud voice, “in here.”

Dick opens the door unceremoniously, not bothered by the creaking hinges. He stands in the doorway, disheveled in his stupid pajama and looking confused like a stupid, lost duckling, “Jason, what do you think you’re doing? At this hour?” He asks, hands on his hips, sounding just as stupidly confused.

“This is an ongoing rescue mission,” Jason explains slowly, because it’s important not to rush Dick, best to let him process things on his own time, “and I needed you to bust me out.”

“What.”

“I’m bringing Roxy home, but the doorknob fell off on my side.”

“Oh,” Dick steps inside, examining the other side of the door to confirm that, in fact, the doorknob had indeed fallen off and Jason hadn’t hallucinated the whole thing, “it really fell off,” he says dumbly.

“Yeah, well, thanks for opening up the door,” Jason gets up, dusting himself off and then picking up Roxy, “and I’d appreciate if you would keep this, you know, between brothers? Great, now it’s time to scram.”

“Uh, Jason,” the idiot stammers out, looking panicked at Jason and pointing, “don’t freak out, but there’s a huge spider on your shoulder.” He takes a step back, totally freaking out, and bumps on the door. Slamming it shut. “Uh, this is bad.”

“No shit, Sherlock,” Jason glares at him, easily flicking the small spider from off his shoulder, “congratulations, now we’re both stuck.”

Then, Dick wails in despair.

*

“Jason, that is not what happened!” Dick launches himself across the bed, trying to reach his brother but only managing in scaring Tim into climbing up the headboard, “stop telling everyone I’m dumb!”

“To be fair,” Jason says, watching amused, “you make it real easy.”

“Stop jostling the bed!” Tim complains from where he’s perched, cradling his injured wrist. He is going to fall, and it’s going to hurt, mattress or not, but Bruce doesn’t have the energy to get him down himself.

“Tim,” he warns, “if you fall and aggravate your injuries, you are going to tell Alfred yourself tomorrow.”

The teenager grumbles, sending Bruce a betrayed look, but slowly climbs down, scooting as far back as possible.

“Fine,” says Dick, frowning. He and Jason hadn’t stopped bickering yet, but Bruce hadn't expected them to. “here’s what really happened.”

*

Staring at the door, Dick can’t fathom what the hell Jason could be doing inside an unused broom closet. True, his brother can be a unpredictable at times, but this a new level of random.

He knocks at the door, just to be sure. Prank wars aren’t that rare around the Manor.

“In here,” Jason calls quietly. That’s never a good sign.

The door opens with noisy hinges that would probably make Alfred cringe. Dick takes in the scene. Jason is sprawled in one corner, hugging a rocket launcher. Near his feet, a bowling ball sways. Weird, he didn’t know Bruce used to go bowling.

Right. To more important things, “Jason, what the hell?”

“I’m rescuing Roxy,” Jason says unhappily, as if offended that how come Dick didn’t immediately jump to that totally reasonable conclusion, “and I needed you to bust me out.”

There are so many things to address, Dick isn’t sure where to begin. What even. Okay, first things first, “you named your rocket launcher Roxy?”

“That’s what you got from what I said?”

“Would you rather I focus on the fact you were trapped in a broom closet?” Dick rolls his eyes. Tonight patrol had been almost dull, suspiciously so. He should’ve known better.  Clearly, Gotham seen Jason hiding in there and had taken pity on Dick, knowing the kind of wravoc Jason is undoubtedly going to bring down. On that note, “how did you manage that, by the way?”

Jason makes a non-committal noise, gesturing vaguely in the direction of the door as he gets to his feet with dramatic groans. Dick steps inside to take a better look at the thing, almost tripping on the bowling ball and sending it rolling to the other side of the room. The doorknob is missing and the metal is dented around where it should be. Really? How the hell did he break the whole thing clean off? “It fell off? How?”

“Sometimes,” Jason says, “it be like that. Now, if you could keep this just between us, I’d really appreciate it.”

Dick snorts, already expecting that, and shakes his head, turning around in time to see his brother dusting himself off and grimacing at the cobwebs sticking to his fingers. Gross. But then, something catches his eyes. Crawling its way up Jason’s shoulders, a black spider is quickly reaching his neck. Dick shudders, resisting the strong urge to check himself for any insect, “hm, Jason?” His brother looks up. “Don’t freak out, but there’s a spider on your shoulder.”

And, of course, Jason loses it.

“Shit, I said don’t freak out,” he rushes to stop him from tripping over anything or knocking any of the shelves down. Jason keeps trying to bat the thing off, but the cobwebs stick to his hand, leaving the spider dangling in the air, almost landing on his leg. “Hold still, stop squirming, you’re gonna– jesus christ.” In his frantic flailing, Jason manages to hit him with a painful elbow to the eye, causing Dick to stumble back and almost lose his balance.

Unfortunately, backing away means bumping right into the door. It closes with a loud thud.

“Okay,” Dick sighs, “this is bad.”

“No shit, Sherlock,” Jason says, having stopped his ridiculous flailing around, “congratulations, now we’re both stuck.”

They watch in silence as the tiny black spider crawls across the room and up the wall. She’s surprisingly fast, and it makes him think of Wally, even if his friend would probably disagree with the comparison. Well, Wally isn’t here to see the little eight-legged speedster himself, therefore, he has no base for opinions, agreeable or not.

“I’m not eating spiders,” says Jason, out of nowhere and with no context whatsoever, “or my arm.”

“That’s good, I suppose,” Dick shrugs, because what else is he supposed to say to that, “cannibalism is generally frowned upon in most societies. And spiders are generally gross, even when they’re like Wally.”

“I really don’t wanna know,” he frowns, sitting back down where Dick first found him and beginning to check his rocket launcher for any damage, “but anyways, you wouldn’t know if Bruce boob-trapped the door, would you?”

Dick wants to say no, he does, but after spending his teenage years in the Manor, he can’t honestly say that’s not something he wondered in more than one occasion. Bruce’s absolute perfect timing used to border omniscience. It was almost supernatural. Every attempt at sneaking out after curfew was foiled before he could even make it to the gates. “I mean, I don’t think it’s going to blow up on our faces if we try to pick the lock.”

“But it might trigger a silent alarm,” Jason concludes, sounding resigned.

“How pissed do you think he’s gonna be?”

“With you? Very. With me, though? Astronomically.” He sighs, rubbing his eyes, “I don’t really feel like being lectured at three in the morning, how ‘bout you?”

“Think I’ll pass, too.” Dick should’ve been sleeping now. On his bed. Getting some rest before his shift tomorrow. He should’ve been sleeping, not sitting on a hard, dusty floor.

“Guess there’s no other way then, uh?” Jason says, like Dick is somehow supposed to know what the shit is going on in his head. Dick stares blankly at him until he huffs, annoyed, “we gotta call the Replacement, he’s the only one left.”

“No, wait, don’t wake him up.”If Dick remembers it right, Tim should be fast asleep by now, safely tucked in his room. No need to drag him into this disaster in the making. “God knows it’s an uphill battle to get him to actually sleep.”

Jason snorts. “Too late. He’s on his way.”

“What?” Son of a– ,“he was already awake, wasn’t he? Damn it. I really thought Alfred put something on his coffee.”

“Sounds healthy.”

A knock on the door echoes loudly on the small room, startling Dick. He glares at Jason snickering at his side, and calls, “we’re in here!”

The door swings open silently for once, revealing Tim still on the frankly way too coffee-stained sweatpants he found earlier in the cave and a baggy NASA shirt. Specifically, a NASA shirt that belongs to Dick. A NASA shirt he distinctly remembers going missing years ago. And when he says years, he means before Tim had even stepped inside the Manor. Which means–

“Oh my god, you little shit,” Jason is saying accusingly to Tim, “that shirt is mine!”

Dick hadn’t been doing anything at the moment, but he screeches to a halt all the same. In spirit, if you will.

“No way,” Tim crosses his arms, “I’ve had this shirt since forever.”

“Fuck off, Replacement,” Jason points a threatening finger, “I remember tearing that hole trying to climb down the window.”

“How dare you,” Dick finally gets his voice back, whirls on Jason, “how dare you, you hypocrite lying liar who lies.”

Jason gapes. “What the fuck.”

“That shirt was mine and you know it,” he can’t believe this. No, no, actually, he can. Easily. “I distinctly remember asking you if you’ve seen it, and then you looked me in the eyes and said I don’t know, I ain’t your housekeeper. And then you flipped me off.”

To be fair, Dick mostly remembered that day because it had been one of the few times he had been visiting the Manor before Jason, you know. Passed away. So yeah, he remembered it.

Now, though, seeing his shirt going from thief to thief, Dick isn’t feeling too charitable, death or no death.

He realizes Jason had gone quiet, looking as if trying to recall the incident. “I don’t really remember,” his brother finally says, “but it does sound like something I would do.”

“Oh my god, I hate you.”

“I mean,” Jason raises one of his hands up in a placating gesture, the other still cradling his stupid rocket launcher, “it’s not like you’re my favorite person either, Dickhead. ‘Sides, I wasn’t the only asshole back then.”

Shame and guilt rise in tandem, swallowing his gut in acid. Jason’s right. Dick has no right to sit here and call him out on being a jerk, not when he’d been just as guilty. He had been so caught up–

“Can we please skip the guilt trips?” Tim asks tiredly, “it’s almost four in the morning and your argument is moot anyway. The shirt is mine.”

It’s a testament for how tired he is that Dick doesn’t immediately restrains Jason when he goes silent. And, to be perfectly honest, that shirt is not freaking his.

“Jason, put the rocket launcher down,” Tim continues, unfazed, or maybe reaching the apathetic stages of lack of sleep, “you know how Alfred feels about weapons upstairs.”

*

“Why does everyone think I don’t sleep!” Tim glares at the ceiling, shifting so he can stretch on the bed more comfortably and kick Dick on the side, “I do sleep! All the time!”

“I don’t know,” Jason shrugs, wincing. He hides it well, but now that Bruce is paying more attention, Jason is leaning rather stiffly against his rocket launcher, standing as still as possible without being too obvious about it. Bruce sighs, he should’ve suspected; Jason has always been one to hide injuries. “Never seen it. Methinks the lady doth bullshits too much.”

“Jason,” Bruce begins cautiously, he doesn’t want to spook him. “Why didn’t you say you were hurt?”

It’s the wrong choice of words, it comes out more accusing than he intended, and Bruce can see Jason shutting down, face going blank. “I’m not hurt. And it wouldn’t be any of your business if I were anyway.”

Dick is giving him a sad, disappointed look. Completely unnecessary, Bruce knows he screwed this up. It seems to be a pattern when it comes to Jason. “If you sprained your ankle, there’s a perfectly good bed for you to sit.”

“Oh yeah? Good thing I ain’t hurt then.”

Out of the corner of his eyes, Bruce sees Dick burying his head in his hands, ice pack forgotten beside him on the bed, already melting and soaking the covers.

“Jason,” Bruce tries again, taking a moment to find a better way to phrase it.

Before he can say anything else, Tim kicks the rocket launcher, forcing Jason to put his weight on both legs to regain his balance. He curses loudly, clutching the bedside table to stay upright, and glares at his brother. Dick still refuses to look up.

“Get on the damn bed, idiot,” Tim scoots over, making space, and pushes Dick further down to the foot of the bed, “you know Alfred will have our heads if he finds out you were standing on that ankle.”

Jason grumbles and huffs, but climbs on the bed, crossing his arms over his chest. “You’re such an asshole, Replacement. This entire fucking family, I swear to god. All assholes. Except Cass. And Duke. Probably because it hasn’t been long enough for them yet. Fucking assholes.”

“Language,” Tim elbows him, “now all of you, shush. It’s my turn.”

*

Tim watches them argue with little interest. This shirt had been down in the Cave when he found it and thus, by the unspoken laws of the Manor, had been fair play.

It’s his now and Jason and Dick can both cry him a river.

Honestly, it’s just a shirt. A remarkably comfortable one, sure, but just a shirt. Besides, NASA shirts are all the rage now. Walmart probably sells them at a reasonable price.

Tuning back in the conversation, Tim catches the tail end of Jason’s retort and the beginning of Dick’s knee-jerk reaction to all things before. Crushing guilty and vitriolic regret. And it’s always worse in times like these, when Jason isn’t trying to kill anyone, when it almost feels like family.

Either way, Tim should stop them before it inevitably spirals into a real fight. Which would be so not good in such a tiny room and with Jason holding a rocket launcher. “Can we please skip the guilt trips?” He pauses, resigned. “It’s nearly four in the morning. And it doesn’t even matter anyway. This shirt,” he points down at his own chest, “is mine.”

Jason falls silent, and that’s not a good thing, but Jason is also thankfully very, very predictable, so Tim simply raises one eyebrow, “Jason, put that damn thing away,” he yawns, unimpressed by the rocket launcher aimed at his face, “you know how Alfred feels about weapons upstairs.”

He grumbles, muttering under his breath, but lowers the ridiculous thing back on his lap. Dick looks vaguely ill, scooting away from the rocket launcher. Tim supposes that’s fair, although he doubts it’s loaded. For a brief moment he entertains the idea of calling Jason’s bluff, but dismisses it in the end. Dick would probably have a stroke.

On that note, “how did you get a black eye?”

“Oh shit,” he raises a hand to gingerly touch the rapidly bruising skin, wincing, “is it that bad?”

“Yup.” Tim pauses, decides he doesn’t want to know, “now, are you two getting out today or…”

Dick and Jason scramble up, dusting themselves off. Cobwebs stick to their clothes, and something runs from where they had been sitting– Tim wrinkles his nose, figures it’s better not to mention it.

“How the two of you managed to break the doorknob is beyond me,” he comments as they pass him, “but somehow, I’m not surprised.”

“Whatever you say, Replacement,” Jason waves him off, stretching, “but damn, it’s good to be free.”

“You know what’s gonna be even better?” Dick asks, his question trailing off in a yawn, “sleeping in a real bed.”

“Shit, did you hear that?” Jason stops mid stretch, frowning, “shit, shit, someone’s coming.”

They all look at each other panicked. Tim doesn’t even know why he’s panicking, he’s done nothing wrong here besides letting himself be talked into helping these two morons out. Which he now sees was a terrible mistake, worse even, a rookie mistake. But maybe it’s being awake at 4am wandering an empty hallway that gives off this feeling, like he’s doing something he’s not supposed to do. It reminds him a little of the times he snuck out of his parent’s house after lights out to shadow Batman and Robin around.

Or maybe it’s the fact Jason is still carrying around the damn rocket launcher like a newborn baby. That definitely would count as a bad thing on Bruce’s point of view. And no matter what they might say, the man would certainly write Tim and Dick off as accessories to the crime. Well, they did learn of the crime after it was committed and they are kind of aiding the criminal in scaping.

Sighing, Tim lets himself be dragged back to the broom closet by a frantic Dick. He adds helping the criminal conceal the crime to the list. The door closes with a soft click just as the footsteps get closer. Whoever it is, probably Bruce by the heavy steps, turns the corner, and then walks past them. Somewhere still uncomfortably near, a door opens, then closes.

“He’s in the study,” Dick sobs, “and we’re stuck here again.”

“We’re never getting out of here,” Jason says, sitting down again, “one day Alfred will finally come clean here and find our decomposed bodies.”

“Gross,” Tim wrinkles his nose at the mental image, “come on. Let’s just pick the lock.”

“No!” They whisper-shout at the same time.

“What the fuck.”

“It’s booby-trapped,” says Jason.

“There’s silent alarms,” says Dick.

Oh right, all of his brothers are paranoid lunatics at heart, how could Tim have ever forgotten that. “This place looks like nobody used it since before either of us were born. Why, oh why, would B put it under surveillance?”

Silence. Jason hugs his rocket launcher closer, sharing a look with Dick. Great, and they’re a united front now. “Listen, fine. You don’t wanna pick the lock. Fine.” It’s always best not to contradict a crazy person, let alone two. “What do you suggest, then?”

“Living off spiders.”

“Call Damian.”

“One, gross. Two, I’d literally rather die.” He begins, “three, you all are useless to me.”

They need a plan, and they need it fast. Before one of those two finish spiraling into cabin fever. Looking around, Tim tries to think of it as any other mission. There’s a small window in the on the right wall, probably connecting to the adjacent room, which Tim thinks might be a bedroom. It was probably a leftover of some old renovation, it might’ve led outside once upon a time, but now it’s likely their only way out. It’s very small, Tim might go through it with little problem, Dick too, but Jason is too broad shouldered, he might get stuck. If only they could remove all the bars, it could give them just enough space.

Okay. They have an exit. All they need is way to get up there and the tools to deal with the bars. He turns to his brothers, “I think I can get us out. There’s a window behind that shelf.” He points at the glass visible between two boxes, “but I need some sort of ladder and a tool box.”

Apparently the prospect of a real plan is enough to shake them out of their stupor. Jason jumps to his feet, begins rummaging through the scattered boxes. Dick busies himself with pushing the shelf out of the way, clearing the path to the window. Satisfied, Tim begins digging inside the nearest box in search of anything useful.

By the time Dick manages to push the shelf out of the way, Jason has found a hammer and a phillips screwdriver. He did find a crowbar too, but that was quickly discarded and buried under a pile of old books. Deciding the boxes are sturdy enough, hopefully, to hold their weight, Tim piles them up in the best makeshift stairs he can make.

Is it wobbly? Yes. Are they going to fall and break their necks? Probably. But better be dead than ask Damian for help. The little demon would never let him live it down for the rest of their lives and probably in the afterlife too.

Once again tuning out his brothers, Tim begins the quickly climbing up the boxes. It’s more stable than he expected, so he starts unscrewing the metal bars–

*

“Of course it was stable!” Dick exclaims, throwing his hands up and then falling down on the bed, “we were holding it in place!”

“You weren’t even listening to us, you ungrateful–”

“I got us out, didn’t I?” Tim snaps, “god, everyone’s a critic. Can I go back to the story, please? I’d like to finish telling it before sunrise.”

“God, yes, please.”

*

Anyway.

The metal bars and the stained glass panels fall apart easily, as expected from such old, unused things. The space left looks wide enough to let them through, maybe. If they’re lucky. “Okay, I’m already up here, so let me go first.”

“Wait–”

Tim doesn’t wait. He hoists himself up, diving face first through the window. It gets him a mouthful of dust and sand, and then he’s free falling–

There’s a second of panic, in between falling and landing, where Tim recognizes waiting might’ve been a wiser course of action and that maybe he should have looked before jumping.

–right into a bed.

He had been right. It did lead to an old bedroom. The bed was covered in sheets, just like the rest of the furnitures, but it works to break the fall, even if a cloud of dust rises in the air when he lands, coating his lungs with filth.

Laughter bubbles up, a little hysterical, a little relieved.

“Are you okay?” Dick’s head appears through the hole, “are you hurt?”

“My wrist hurts a little, I think I sprained it when I tried to break the fall,” Tim shrugs, rolling off the bed, “but I’m fine, really.”

“Hold on, I’m coming through.”

Dick falls with a huff, his breath knocked out of him in the landing. He groans, “shit, that’s gonna bruise.”

“Cool, you’ll get a matching set,” Tim gestures his black eye, “but you might wanna make space, it sounds like Jason is on his way.”

And true enough, as soon as he had forced himself out of the bed and limped away towards Tim, a rocket launcher lands on the bed with a heavy thud, and then Jason appears. Although only half of him makes it through. He dangles, arms swinging uselessly, stuck in the window. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Seriously?”

“Oh my god,” Tim wheezes, “tell me someone has a camera.”

“I feel so much better already,” Dick giggles.

“Oh come on,” Jason snaps, flipping them off with both hands, “a little help here? Assholes.”

To be fair, it only takes a little wiggling and a little pulling to get him out of there and into the dusty bed. By now the air is more dust bunnies and promises of allergies.

“Tell me it’s over now,” Jason says, then changes his mind, “no, no, no. No one say anything, it might jinx it.”

“Please leave,” Tim tells him, “you have an apartment, I know you do. Please.”

“Are you kicking me out, Replacement? Really?”

“You just put me through the most traumatic hour of my life and I don’t even know why. So yes, please.”

“What he means,” Dick intervenes, “is that–”

“All of you have a lot of explaining to do.” In the now open doorway, Bruce stands, looking like your regular angry father if your regular angry father was the Batman.

“Oh crap,” Jason says, and Tim wholeheartedly agrees.

*

“And the rest is history,” Tim says, yawning, and then turning to Jason, “I can’t believe all of this was because of your stupid rocket launcher.”

“Excuse me,” Jason sounds affronted, “Roxy has emotional value.”

“Your unhealthy attachment to that thing gave me a sprained wrist so excuse me for being a little salty.”

“Can you guys not fight for ten seconds, please,” Dick, in turn, sounds tired.

“I don’t think I need to say in how much trouble all of you are, do I?” Bruce finally says, gathering the attention of the three. He glances at his watch, it’s nearing five in the morning, then back up at the bed. Jason is laying with his leg propped up in a pillow, looking harried and tired and less antagonistic than before, Tim is at his side, curled up around a pillow and his injured wrist carefully cradled on his chest, and the story seems to have drained the last of his energy, as his eyes close for longer and longer periods of time. Dick is sprawled at the foot of the bed, laying sideways and currently wrestling a pillow out Jason’s grip.

Bruce looks at the scene in front of him, three of his children together at peace, or the closest thing to it they’ll ever get, and something inside him softens. Seeing them like this, getting along, no trace of masks or capes, it feels almost like a normal family.

It feels warm and golden.

Unwilling to disturb the fragile peace, he gets up from the armchair, heading for the door.

“Where are you going?” Dick, the more awake of them, asks, “aren’t you gonna yell at us?”

“As I said, you all know you are in trouble,” Bruce answers calmly, “but there’s going to be time for that tomorrow, at a more reasonable hour.” He suppresses a smile, “I am going to retrieve some blankets. It looks like you’re not going back to your rooms tonight.”

Dick looks around him, finding Tim already asleep and Jason yawning. He smiles, “you might be right. Thanks, B.”

Bruce nods, but as he leaves the room, a thought suddenly occurs to him, “oh, and Dick?”

A sleepy noise comes from the bed.

“You were all wrong.” Another inquisitive muttering, a little more awake now. “That shirt? It used to be mine. It was a special edition, confectioned after the moon-landing. You stole it from me.”

Shaking his head, Bruce prepares to leave, but a voice stops him just before the door closes, “I know, but you know the rules. If it’s down the Cave, it’s fair play.”

Laughter echoes quietly in the hallways at the Manor, bouncing off the walls and filling all the empty spaces.

*

[multifandom-damnation]

They watched Grog cut down enemy after enemy with his axe in a wall of carnage as he laughed.

They watched Vex fire arrows from the sky like a goddess, hidden in the tree brouths and darkening sky.

They watched Vax dodge the bullets fired his way from his friend’s own creation and fling his daggers into enemy skin.

They watched Keyleth survive attacks and cast spells like she had never been knocked down.

They watched Scanlan’s grin grow as strong as the spells he was casting as he cleared out the battlefield alone.

And Percy… They watched him fall.

I’m sorry you guys, I really tried to make this good. As soon as I watched the ep I knew I had to write something but guys… I’m sorry. It’s not very good. I’m so annoyed haha, this took ages. A lot of the dialogue it from the actual ep (all of it I think??) and I know it’s gonna be shitty so maybe just take that into account before you read it xx

They watched him fall.

They watched him fall the first time, watched the necklace break and shatter, watched him get back up. Watched his hands shake so badly his shots missed, watched him growl in silent fury.

The second time, they watched as Ripley shot him with his own creation, watched as he fell to his knees, then face down, watched the burning holes Ripley fired meet their mark, piercing into him, Orthax raking his claws of shadow across his chest. Watched the blood pool around his body like a cape and head like a halo he never asked for.

They watched as his body stopped moving, watched his chest stop rising. Kynan reached for him, turned him over, watched as his eyes stared blankly at the sky. The trickle of blood running along the side of his face and into his hair, dying it red.

Keyleth screamed as Vex flew down on her broom in a fit of fury and fear. Grog roared bloody murder at the spot Ripley once stood, Scanlan with his hands in his hair and silent tears down his face. Vax stood, motionless, in the centre of the crevasse, daggers dangling limply in his fingers, his legs giving out and falling to his knees as he stared at the women he loved most running over, crying next to their friend.

Scanlan moved to grab his sword, Grog yanking the Chain of Returning back a little harder than was necessary, catching his axe in a bone-shattering grip. Keyleth stands, shaking hands covering her face, Vex next to Percy on her knees in the glass, checking his pulse and shaking him. “Can you do anything? As a Paladin?” She cried to her brother, who just shook his head and placed it slowly in his hands.

The zip!, had them turning to where Scanlan and Grog stood. Grog’s axe raised high above his head, froth foaming and falling from his lips. Scanlan’s hand was up, purple energy crackling around his fingers as they watched a purple bubble form around Ripley, encapsulating her in Otilukes Resilient Sphere. She looked around, placing her hands up against the sphere. “What? What the heck is going on?”

“You can curse,” Scanlan snarled, walking closer towards her. “It’s ok. You’ve killed one of us.” He turned back to his group, his friends, his family, now minus one. “Everyone gather around her.” He shouted, waving his sword to get everyone’s attention.

Looking up in shock and horror, Vex shook her head. “I’m not leaving Percy.”

“I’m going to drop this thing, and we’re all going to fucking kill her together.”

“No…” Keyleth mumbled, shaking.

Vax finally brought himself to his feet and turned his back to his brother, dead on the ground, and faced the bitch that took his family from him. “Yes, we are.”

Ripley fired at the wall, throwing everything she had at the barrier, to no effect. She slammed her shoulder into it, shouting, raked her fingers across it, nothing. The dark shadow of Orthax rested below her, under the sphere, trying desperately to get to her.

Scanlan slowly walked over to her, sword in hand. Vax started walking as well, Keyleth catching up and reaching down with a shaking hand to place hers in his. Grog readied his axe. “Vex!” Scanlan shouted.

“No, I’m staying. I’m not leaving Percy.”

“But- “

“I’ll shoot her at a distance!”

Grog put his body right against the orb, Keyleth on his side. Scanlan made his way closer, calling out over his shoulder. “Vax, you with us?”

A moment of heart-wrenching silence and Scanlan almost turned back, “Yes.” Quietly, a breath on the wind, but full of fury. Kynan walked over and joined them as well, as far away from Percy as possible, on the other side of the orb, hands folded on his chest, head bowed.

The bard looked around at the rest of his family. “Ready?”  Keyleth’s hands were shaking, but she turned to face Scanlan when he spoke. Her eyes brimming with free-flowing tears.

Grog snarled. “When you are.” His axe was raised high, and his eyes were red with an unbridled fury.

Scanlan met the eyes of his family, met the tearful eyes of Vox Machina and with whatever energy he had left: “For Percy.”

With her hands pushing against the orb, Ripley tried with all her might to get free, but her spells wouldn’t work, her bullets wouldn’t pierce, her sharp words were dull, her screams fell on deaf ears.

“Percy’s killing you right now,” Scanlan told her, meeting her eyes and her awful twisted grin, teeth too sharp and eyes too brave. He would have to take care of that, the determined look that fooled her into believing that they would ever let her leave the island alive after what she’s done. “Not us.”

He dropped the spell, and they all attacked.

They watched her as she fell in a tangled heap of blood and vines and arrows, watched as her now detached arm fall by her head as Vax sliced if from her body, watched her insides spill out from Grogs cut in her navel, watched her neck snap from Keyleth’s Grasping Vine, watched the blood leak down her face from the bleeding de Rolo crest Scanlan had carved into her, a permeant memory of who she had taken from them.

The shadow of Orthax shudders, wavers, then dissipates, leaving the battlefield silent and frightfully empty.

The twins scouted the cave a mile off. Keyleth cleaned Percy’s cuts, washed away the blood he seemed to be drowning in and weaved flowers through his hair. Grog collected the guns from the corpses littered around the battlefield, standing on their heads until the skulls crumpled like tin-foil. Scanlan came back with a hard onyx figurine in his hand, Kynan walking shyly behind him, and the gnome looked like he was on the edge of screaming.

The twins returned, both trying to hold back tears, Vax with his arm slung around his sister and her head on his shoulder, just as Scanlan summoned the mansion and they all made their way inside with Percy resting in Grogs arms.

It was Vax who shyly suggested that they have a blanket fort, that they all sleep in together with the others’ breathing and heartbeats loud and strong in the room, comforting each other if one woke up screaming from a nightmare with Percy’s name on their lips.  The servants brought all the blankets and pillows they could find and a long ornate table. They put Percy on the table, and Vex covered him with a blanket, a pillow behind his head, and they could almost pretend he was just sleeping, would wake up once Vax stuck a slimy finger in his ear or Grog poured ale on his face.

Fireflies danced above their heads as they fell asleep, and they stared at them in an effort not to reach a hand out to grab their friend, who was just sleeping if they pretended hard enough.

The walk through the sun tree was fast, but the walk to find Pike was agony.

Percy was slung over Grog’s shoulder, the rest of Vox Machina trailing like an armoured guard around them. Whispers, gasps, crying, screams, muttered prayers, half-hearted laughter, begging Pelor to bring Lord Percival back, and Vox Machina stopped and spoke to none.

Serenrae’s temple seemed so far away.

A guard stopped them, eyes bright and mouth a large cheerful grin that reminded the group too harshly of Ripley’s twisted smirk. “You’ve returned! I- “His eyes drifted to Percy’s limp body hanging off Grog, and the words died in his throat before he could say them. “Oh.”

Vex rubbed her arms and leaned forward. “Someone should get Cassandra.” She said quietly, fighting back the tears.

Pikes face once they reached the temple made Grog bite his lip hard enough to taste blood, for Vax to look away, for Scanlan to say nothing.

“I knew something was wrong.” She whispered, brushing hair out of her face. “Where is he?”

They found Orthax feasting on the tattered and ruined soul of Percy and Keyleth severed the thread. Pike called for Serenrae. Vex begged him to come back to them.

The ceremony was hard, it was long, it was horrible, but with a torrent of crows and Vax’s wings outstretched over Percy’s prone body as though they were his own, Percy took a breath, and the holy light lifted filled the room as he opened his eyes.

He was tired, so very tired, and it had felt like a century since he had seen his friends with a beating heart of his own, but they only said it had been a day? It didn’t feel like a day. His eyes were heavy, his lungs filled with jagged glass, and Percy had the suspicion that if they were to open him up to look, he would be filled head to toe with bullets and black glass.

Even Vax who Percy knew didn’t like him- couldn’t stand him, who Percy cared very much for but hoped that Vax wasn’t foolish enough to care the same for him, was looking down at him with tearful relief with his hand in Percy’s hair and his fingers pulsing with holy light. Percy thought it must have been bad.

Cassandra came in soon later and he could almost imagine he had seen her a few days ago and not the years it felt like.

Using his gun as a crutch, he hobbled his way towards the castle, the imposing white towers blocking out the sun.

They watched him sit quietly while they talked, watched the cogs turn in his head to formulate plans, watched him start to say and stumble. Grog took a step behind him so he would hit the Goliath instead of cold hard ground and Keyleth put her hand on his arm to keep him steady.

Gilmore handed back their items and yawned, stretching his hands above his head. “Is there anything else you want me to look at before I go to bed? Because- it’s late.”

“What time is it, Shawn?” Vax asked calmly, looking at Percy out of the corner of his eye.

Looking up at the sky, Gilmore tilted his head. “Nine?”

“Nine,” Vax repeated quietly, looking at his sister, who nodded. Then louder: “Percival, you should go to bed.”

Percy sighed, pushed his hair out of his face. “Soon. I am not quite ready for sleep, and we have a lot to talk about.” They watched ideas of the up-and-coming battle flit between his quickly darting eyes and watched his lips tighten. “We need to have a discussion. Perhaps in the morning?”

“Yes,” Vex sighed, quietly, walking towards him and placing her hand on his other arm. “We should sleep. You should. You look very tired.” It was meant to be soothing, but she felt- the others watched- him flinch, a fleeting look of fear crossing his face and gone in an instant.

“We can have this conversation tonight; I’m just going to be feeling miserable for a while.” Desperately searching for any reason to not be alone, not to be secluded, isolated in his room with memories and him after being reunited with his family after an eternity, and his eyes searched their faces for any trace of pity, any form of giving in.

Shaking her head, Keyleth looked him in the eyes, and Percy looked away. “I don’t think that’s a wise idea.”

He tried, he really did, and they watched him fight, even though his eyelids were dropping and his head was sinking down to rest on his chest, watched him stumble and lean back on Grog, watched him try desperately to keep all his friends with him. But he needed sleep.

His voice quavered, and he blocked out the rest of the conversation, his head clouding with the never-ending darkness that filled him the last time he slept, those years he spent with his eyes closed and his heart stopped. His eyes opened, the darkness gone, caught the last snippet of the conversation. “It’s true, but Percy needs to get the fuck to sleep, seriously.” Vax placed his hand under his chin, lifted his face, his wings blocking out the sun from hitting Percy’s face.

Vax watched the human’s mouth open and close, words stuck in his throat. “I must admit, I… fear sleep at the moment.” Vax rubbed his thumb across his friend’s jaw as he took a shaking breath.  Percy’s eyes met his, tired and fearful.

Blocking out the rest of the others, Vax moved his hands to his shoulders, blood speckled, the fabric tarnished and unravelling, and squeezed. Percy slowly looked at him with eyes almost begging him to understand. “Nobody wants to talk to you right now. We want you to go to sleep. We’re going to go have a drink and a fabulous time. We’ll see you in the morning.”

Stumbling back to his room, Percy mentally kicked himself for not insisting he stay, not forcing himself to go with them to whatever bar they found in Whitestone, not staying in the company of his family after so many centuries of being alone with… him.

He fell face first in bed, fully dressed, fully armed, and fell into a dreamless sleep filled with the horrifying darkness and heartbreaking silence that filled with nothing but the familiar dark cackling and his pained screams, could swear that someone was waiting for him in the cold, empty, dark.

His friends came home that night, slightly drunk and tired, tiptoeing by his door as if they would wake him up, Vex sneaking in to replace his note, Vax to check his pulse and his body for holes, Keyleth to brush his hair out of his face and to tell him to get some sleep, they would be there in the morning. Cassandra entered at some point in the night and didn’t leave until many hours later, but they didn’t question it, and found Percy in the morning under the covers, in his favourite pyjamas, his guns where he is most comfortable and his clothes folded neatly or handing up in his closet.

Even the deep angry, red speckled holes in the fabric seemed to be stitched back together.

They kept their eyes on him afterwards, always had him in their sight. Even after the meeting with Rishan, his attempt at pious and calculated words failed him, his voice heavily laced with tiredness and his body giving up on him, using Grog to stand upright.

But they watched him fight, during the battle with the Frigid Doom. His shots went wide often, his aim off and scattering against the icy wall behind. His thoughts were muddled and he wasn’t sure what to do when Yenk climbed up the wall to tear into him, bleeding dark red onto the platform.

Even so, Percy reasoned with the green dragon and bargained, words strong and determined although inside, his tongue was tied into a knot, his stomach a heavy lead weight and his heart a painful stab wound as his clouded mind struggled to form the right things to say.

Back at the castle, he’d fall asleep standing, swaying into Keyleth or Grog only for the Goliath to carry him back to his bed. His mind was always going as fast as his bullets from the barrel of his gun, plans and strategies rolling around like rocks down a mountain, tumbling over each other in a panic to reach the bottom first, his words faster than his lips and his brain even faster still, Scanlan playing a tune on his shawm or his flute until his eyes fluttered closed. Keyleth would gently guide him back to his room with his half-closed eyelids, Vex would whittle arrows while Percy made bullets until his fingers were numb, Vax sat quietly with him, back to back, touching for the first time willingly and openly since the tomb as they cleaned their weapons and whispered about memories, Cass working him to the bone in the study until his hands were covered in charcoal and ink, wax caked under his nails from the wax seals and his hair a mess from where his sister had been running her fingers through it.

Every night, he still dreamt of the millennia he spent with Orthax, the terrible pain as he writhed and screamed in the smoky black grasp with the claws that pierced his skin and poisoned his blood with corruption, spirit tattering like parchment set aflame and the laughter/screaming of the voice that haunted his dreams for years. Sometimes he dreams of the Briarwood’s and the begging and screaming of his siblings, his parents, his caretakers, the glint of Sylas’s teeth and the bubbling laughter of Delilah as she hung off of her husband’s arm, purple death swirling around her fingers. Other nights it was Ripley, with her questions and her fingers and her tools, her smile as sharp as the dagger in her hand and her mind as strong as the chains that bind his legs and his arms.

It took a long, long while, but after a time, he stopped waking up screaming, stopped missing as many shots. His gun stopped giving off as much smoke with every fire. He stopped falling asleep on his feet. Vox Machina watched their brother grow stronger again, watched his change, watched him be the brave de Rolo he always was.

They watched him rise.

[omeglerpsokyeah-blog]

Rovinsky #1

You're now chatting with a random stranger. Say hi! You both like pynch, and rovinsky. You: Heard you and the trailer trash one finally fucked. So happy for you. JK Stranger: Who the hell said that? RL You: Proko. Don't ask how he knows, 'cause fuck if I know. JK Stranger: People can kiss in public without fucking. RL
A novel concept for you, I realize. RL You: Kissing in public? That's beautiful. JK
Bet Dick's over the moon, huh? Found yourself a nice boy. JK Stranger: Don't bring him into this. RL You: Oh. Is he jealous? JK You: Seems the jealous type. JK Stranger: Are you? RL You: Of trailer boy? Nah. JK Stranger: Of course. RL
Listen, I don't feel much like chatting with you. RL You: You're being extremely fucking civilised, Lynch. JK
It's boring. Bite. JK Stranger: Stay the fuck away from him. RL You: There we go. JK
What interest would I have in your pretty little boyfriend? JK Stranger: Not my boyfriend. RL
Not sure why you would bring it up if you weren't trying to fuck with me. RL You: But you want him to be. JK
Just exchanging pleasantries. JK Stranger: Don't call a water chamber a bathroom because it wants to be one. RL
We don't do that. RL You: You're fucking weird, man. JK
Come dream. JK Stranger: Fuck no. RL You: Too good for that now? JK Stranger: I don't want anything to do with you. RL
Did I not make that perfectly clear? RL You: Man, they really have fucking gotten to you. Whatever. JK Stranger: The hell are you talking about? RL You: You used to be fun. Me and the boys had a bet as to how long it'd be until your fucking owner beat it out of you. JK Stranger: I'm nothing like you. RL
Gansey doesn't do shit to me. I can whatever the hell I want. RL You: Sure thing, Lynch. Whatever you gotta tell yourself. JK Stranger: I'm gonna wring your fucking neck. RL
Is that what you want? RL You: Kinky. JK Stranger: Shut up. RL You: It's all good. You enjoy your lapdog life with your nice boyfriend. Always here if you need me. <3 JK Stranger: You're not gonna say shit. RL You: Excuse me? JK Stranger: When school is back in session. At any of your parties. To him. RL You: Can't he look after himself? JK
Oh, waaait. You're his Gansey! That's beautiful. JK Stranger: This is nothing like that either. RL You: Don't lie and tell me you've never gotten it on thinking about Dick. I've been in your head, man. JK Stranger: I told you that we don't do that shit. RL You: Doesn't mean you haven't thought about it. JK Stranger: Don't be gross. RL You: Bored. JK Stranger: I'm not here for your entertainment. RL You: Fuck off then. JK Stranger: Tell me what you plan on doing with this. RL You: Not gonna do shit, man. You think too much. JK Stranger: Then why did you fucking text me. RL You: Like I said. Bored. JK Stranger: Don't insult my intelligence. RL
I know this is a power grab and I know that you want something. RL You: Insult your intelligence? You sound just like him, man. JK Stranger: How would you have any clue what Adam sounds like? RL You: Meant your other boyfriend. JK Stranger: Starting to make me think you have a boner for Gansey. RL You: Reflecting your own feelings, there. JK You: Honestly, I just wanted to see if you'd reply. It's funny. JK Stranger: You're an ass. RL You: You used to like it. JK Stranger: Keep their names out of your mouth. RL You: Or what, baby? JK Stranger: Don't call me that. RL You: Boring fucker. JK
We done, yeah? JK Stranger: Tell me that you're leaving them out of this. RL You: Leaving's your thing, dude. JK Stranger: Still bitter? RL You: Just high. JK Stranger: Liar. RL You: Whatever. Had plenty of people drop out on me. JK Stranger: One mouth is the same as any other. RL You: That's what they say. JK You: Adam good with his mouth? JK Stranger: Told you we don't do that. RL You: Vanilla. JK Stranger: Like his hands more anyway. RL You: Like I give a fuck. I'm gonna do dream some shit up. JK Stranger: If I thought it would do anything I would say you should get some fucking help. RL You: That what you did? Cleaned yourself up? I bet Dick's so proud. JK Stranger: I said to keep his name out of your mouth. RL You: Typed it. JK Stranger: Same difference. RL You: Why are you so fucking defensive about them? JK Stranger: They're my friends. RL You: They suffocate you. JK Stranger: Don't know what you're talking about. RL You: You always gotta do stuff his way or no way. We're going, Ronan. Come over here, Ronan. Feet off the fucking car, Ronan. JK Stranger: You have such a problem with Gansey, why don't you bring it up with him? RL You: He doesn't bite. JK You: He's not interesting enough. JK Stranger: I'm not here to fucking entertain you. RL You: What are you here for then? JK Stranger: [delayed] I don't fucking know anymore. RL You: Run off then, boy. Laters. JK Stranger: Fuck you. RL You: Got Parrish for that now. JK Stranger: You're a piece of shit. You know that? RL You: Undoubtedly. JK You: That's a clever word, right? Show that to Dick! JK Stranger: Hate your guts. RL You: Fucking hell, man. You're the one who skipped out. I did jack shit wrong. JK
Your owner whistled and you went running back. Now you've got your fucking boyfriend. So why are you still here? JK Stranger: Because I miss it. RL You: Told you. You can come back. JK Stranger: You know I can't. RL You: You're not allowed, you mean. JK Stranger: Because I'm not gonna fuck up something good in my life because I feel too fucked up to accept it. RL You: Nice, Lynch. JK Stranger: I know how you are. RL You: I'm just there for when you can't accept the good shit, yeah? JK Stranger: You're just there for when I want it to hurt. RL You: Not anymore, man. Fuck you. JK Stranger: Why don't you? RL You: Why don't I what? JK Stranger: Nothing. RL You: Fuck you? JK Stranger: Fuck me. Fuck me up. Whatever. RL You: [delayed] Nah. Not doing it again. JK Stranger: Thought that was what you wanted. RL You: It was. JK Stranger: Gonna say something melodramatic like "not anymore"? RL
Gonna pretend that wasn't why you started this damn conversation? RL You: I'm too high for this shit. JK
How long you gonna stay for this time? Just the night? Maybe a week, again? Maybe even two! Really test your boys. JK Stranger: Last time I checked you weren't inviting me over at all. RL You: Come over. Don't. I don't give a fuck. JK
Got Proko here if I want it that bad. JK Stranger: Talk to you when I talk to you. RL You: How mysterious. JK Stranger: You know what I mean. RL You: Will Parrish not mind you coming over to fuck? JK Stranger: [Delayed] No. RL
I think he would be quite upset if he found out. RL You: And you're okay with upsetting him? JK Stranger: No. RL You: So? JK Stranger: So it's a good thing you don't want me. RL You: Always want you. I'm high enough to admit that. JK You: Always want you. I'm high enough to admit that. JK Stranger: Not enough for this. RL You: What's he got? Does he hold your hand? Tell you he loves you? JK Stranger: Not sure anyone will ever do that. RL You: That what you want? JK Stranger: [delayed] More than I'd like to. RL You: I can tell you I love you. JK Stranger: You'd never mean it. RL You: Does it matter? I want you. That's enough. JK Stranger: It's not though. RL You: Come over. JK Stranger: I can't. RL You: I'll fuck you. Or beat the shit out of you. Whatever you fucking want. JK Stranger: I shouldn't want that. RL You: Definitely not. I think the word Gansey would use is 'unhealthy.' JK Stranger: Probably say "toxic" too. Maybe use the term "coping mechanisms". RL You: Adam's healthy. JK Stranger: He gets angry sometimes and I don't know how long he'll stay. RL
But yeah. Mostly. RL You: Good for you, man. JK Stranger: Yeah. RL
Good for me. RL You: Come over. JK Stranger: K. RL You: Is that a K as in okay or a K as in Kavinsky, come on now. JK Stranger: The latter. RL You: Latter. Stupid word. JK
Fuck off then, Lynch. I mean it. JK Stranger: Forever? RL You: As long as I'm around, dude. Forever's a long time. JK Stranger: Yeah, alright. RL You: Alright? JK Stranger: Not sure what's left to say. RL
Wasn't gonna be you and me. Even if we went skipping hand-in-hand into an AA meeting. RL You: AA meetings are for pussies. JK
So, you and him, then? JK Stranger: Don't know how long he'll stay. RL You: You want him to stick around? JK Stranger: So long as it doesn't royally fuck him up. RL You: Better hope he doesn't leave then. It's shitty. JK Stranger: Know he will. RL
Just hope he comes back. RL You: Yeah. I feel that. JK Stranger: Aren't you gonna chase me off your lawn with a broom or something? RL You: Be fucking happy, Lynch. One of us has gotta be. JK
Be too cliche if we both were JK Stranger: Sounds like some shitty pseudo-philosophy RL You: Maybe I'll write a book. JK Stranger: Wouldn't text you after I read it. RL You: That's part of the 'be fucking happy' mission. JK Stranger: That sounds shitty too RL You: Let me know. JK Stranger: Thought I couldn't. Part of the mission. RL You: Oh, shit. Yeah. JK
Didn't think this through. JK Stranger: Maybe I'll write you a letter. RL
No exchange necessary. RL You: Fuck letters. JK Stranger: What do you propose then? RL You: Dream me a fucking billboard or something. JK Stranger: God. RL
Gaudy asshole. RL
You got a deal. RL You: Enjoy, Lynch. JK Stranger: Let me know if you're trying it. RL You: Oh, yeah. Gonna settle down with Proko. Or maybe Swann. Hold hands and exchange soft whispers of nothingness. JK Stranger: We'll plan double-dates. RL You: I'm gonna be sick. JK Stranger: Just let me know. RL
Whatever it is, you know. RL You: You're actually gonna date someone. That's fucking weird. JK Stranger: What's weird about it? RL You: [delayed] Guess I don't know. Like you said, it was never gonna be me and you. JK Stranger: It's not like you ever thought of holding my hand and exchanging soft whispers with me as our hair grayed. RL You: Nah. Always pictured you there, though. JK Stranger: What? RL
Sucking your cock as we crossed the border? RL You: Ha. Guess so. JK
Never see myself getting old anyway, man. A couple more years, tops. JK Stranger: I don't want to go to another funeral. RL You: You're not invited, then. JK You: Like I'd have a fucking funeral anyway. JK Stranger: Not up to you who fucking attends, asshole. RL You: Who'd come to my funeral? My mum would be coked up on the bathroom floor. Dad and Proko would pretty much cease to exist when I die. I'm not having a funeral just for you. That's too romantic. You: JK Stranger: What about the rest of your band of merry men? RL You: They'll pop some pills in my honour. JK Stranger: Think I'll be invited to that? RL You: Maybe. Swann always liked you. JK Stranger: Yeah? RL You: Mhm. When you lived with us for a bit. JK Stranger: Thought they all hated my guts. RL You: Proko hates your guts. That's a jealousy thing, not a personal thing. JK Stranger: Just never felt like it was mine in the same way. RL
But you know Monmouth never did either. RL You: So go back to the barns. Fuck Declan. JK Stranger: Want to. RL You: I'll come with you. JK Stranger: You serious? RL You: Yeah. Like I said, man, whatever the fuck you want. JK Stranger: Thought you wanted me to fuck the hell off. RL You: That was if you didn't want anything. JK Stranger: Life is too complicated for absolutes. RL You: Dick Gansey thing to say. JK You: Life isn't complicated at all. JK Stranger: Then explain this want to me. RL You: What want? JK Stranger: This. RL You: Want a lot of things, man. For you to move back here. For you to stop rolling over for Gansey. For trailer boy to fuck off. JK You: Plenty of things. JK Stranger: Explain mine. RL You: Your want for what? JK
Me? Adam? JK Stranger: We haven't been talking about Adam for a while now. RL You: You're fucked up. Don't think you deserve anything as good as him. Same with Gansey, really. But me - well, I'm not exactly anything good, am I? So you come to me looking for hurt and sex and drugs and once you feel thoroughly broken, you crawl back to the others and let 'em fix you up again. JK Stranger: [delayed] That's all this is then? RL You: I think so. You don't like me or anything like that. Don't even think you particularly enjoy my company. Just how shitty I make you feel. You think you deserve it. JK Stranger: You have nice eyes. RL
When they aren't blown out on coke. RL You: That's beautiful, Lynch. You should write a poetry book. JK Stranger: Don't have the marketing power you do. RL
No one's gonna buy a book of poems that a gay farmer wrote about an ex-whatever. RL You: Ouch. I'm an ex. JK Stranger: Isn't that what we decided? RL You: You decided when you shacked up with Parrish. JK Stranger: We're not having sex. RL You: It's more. That's worse. JK Stranger: You think I deserve it? RL You: Parrish? JK Stranger: Parrish. RL You: Yeah. JK You: But also, fuck Parrish. JK Stranger: Think I deserve you? RL You: Wouldn't wish that on anyone. JK Stranger: That's why you want me to fuck off. RL You: Sounds edgier when I just tell you to fuck off. JK Stranger: I won't tell anyone. Wouldn't want to ruin your street cred. RL You: Yeah. Thanks. JK Stranger: [delayed] I think I could've loved you too. RL You: I don't. JK Stranger: Yeah, well. RL
Anyone's guess now. RL You: Hey. Think of the positives. When I finally cork it, you'll have so much more fuel to dream. JK Stranger: That's not what I want. RL You: You want too much. JK Stranger: Yeah. RL
Glutton. RL You: You want to move in. Then you want to move out. Then you want Parrish. JK You: Think it's time for you to fuck off now, yeah? JK Stranger: That what you want? RL You: Doesn't fucking matter what I want, Lynch. JK Stranger: I'm asking. RL You: Made it perfectly clear what I wanted when you packed your shit back into the Camaro. JK Stranger: And you also made it perfectly clear that I'm not allowed to want that. RL You: You can want what you like. But you don't deserve it. JK You: This coke's making me sappy. JK Stranger: You should start working on your book now. RL
Inspiration is a hot ire. RL You: Coked up writing a book. Call me fucking Alice in Wonderland. JK Stranger: Dad used to read us that. RL You: Go back to the barns, Ronan. JK You: Take your toy boy. JK Stranger: Don't want to fuck it up. RL You: So, don't. JK Stranger: If I go back now and they find me what if I never get to go home again? RL You: Tear up the fucking world. Do whatever it takes. JK Stranger: What if it doesn't feel right anymore? RL You: It will. JK Stranger: How do you know? RL You: It's your home, man. JK Stranger: And if it doesn't feel right... what? I don't have one anymore? RL You: Don't be fucking ridiculous. JK
You got Dick. And that fucking factory he lives in. JK Stranger: Told you. Doesn't feel the same. RL You: Still home. JK Stranger: Not to me. RL You: Don't know what to tell you. You got good friends. JK
Fucking hate their guts, but. You know. JK Stranger: Can't believe you just said that. RL You: It's this dream coke. Dunno what the fuck it is. JK Stranger: You're better than you think you are. RL You: That's a lie. JK You: You could've never loved me, you know? What could I have offered? Drugs? Good sex? JK
I'm probably gonna be dead by the time Parrish starts fucking college to go on to be some bigshot. JK Stranger: I don't give a shit about some degree. RL You: He does. JK Stranger: I know that. RL
But that isn't what I need. RL You: What do you need? JK Stranger: Someone to be better for. RL You: Aw. That ain't me, man. JK You: I don't need you to be better. I like what you are now. JK
Parrish'll push you. JK Stranger: I'm shit. RL You: Same. JK Stranger: You're alright with that? RL You: At this point, yeah. JK Stranger: Tell me if you change your mind. RL You: There's been times where I've considered changing. But - that ain't me. JK Stranger: Can't force you. RL You: You think you'll be better for him? JK Stranger: I can try. RL You: You want to be? JK Stranger: I think so. RL
Most of the time. RL You: The rest of the time. That's me, right? JK Stranger: That predictable? RL You: [delayed] Fuck off, Lynch. JK Stranger: Take care of yourself. RL You: I always do. JK Stranger: Poorly. RL You: Still alive. JK Stranger: Predicting a time stamp. RL You: I'm just realistic. JK Stranger: You're a prick. RL
And I'm not gonna forgive you for giving up. RL You: On what? You or life? JK Stranger: Both. RL You: You left, man. JK Stranger: Cause it couldn't be this way. RL You: What way is that? JK Stranger: The two of us throwing punches until we tire each other out. RL You: Also could never be any other way. JK Stranger: A man can dream. RL You: We could've just. I don't fucking know. Dreamt. Fucked. Slept. JK
That's all I can offer you. JK Stranger: Wish I knew how to make you happy. RL You: Hahahaha. Same, man. JK You: You know how to make him happy? JK Stranger: Think I'm learning. RL You: And him, you? JK Stranger: Sometimes I'm not sure if I'm meant to be. RL You: I think you are. JK Stranger: What makes you think that? RL You: You've had a lot of shit. Think it's time you had a break. JK Stranger: Don't think the same for yourself? RL You: A lot of mine is self-inflicted. JK
Like, 99%. JK Stranger: Which makes you less worthy? RL You: Yeah. Exactly. JK Stranger: Don't know if I agree with that. RL You: We rarely agree. JK Stranger: This is better that way. RL You: What way? JK You: Disagreeing? JK Stranger: When we're at each other's throats. RL You: Kinky. JK Stranger: Oh whatever. RL You: I fucking miss you. JK Stranger: Yeah. RL
Said I did too. RL You: Shitty. JK Stranger: Me? RL You: The situation. JK Stranger: Don't think the alternatives would have been much better. RL You: You don't see the appeal of us drinking ourselves into an early grave? JK Stranger: Got people to worry about. RL You: Don't have that problem. JK Stranger: Me. RL You: You're gonna be fine, man. JK You: You already have enough people worried about you. JK Stranger: Only because I've lived through worse. RL Stranger: Not about the quantity, man. RL
Tried to keep them all out of bounds anyway. RL You: No one worries about me, Lynch. I'm gonna be just fine. JK Stranger: Don't believe that for a second. RL You: Maybe I could kill myself and dream up a dream version of me. JK Stranger: Wouldn't be the same. RL You: You're not gonna see me again anyway. It'd be for Proko. JK Stranger: Proko would be dead. RL Stranger: Or suspended. Whatever. RL You: Oh, shit. JK
For the others then. JK Stranger: You said they wouldn't care. RL You: Fucking hell. I won't make a dream version, then. JK Stranger: I'm not gonna stamp my approval. Not sure why you're telling me. RL You: Not sure why I'm still bothering you at all. JK Stranger: Give it a guess. RL You: Hate guessing games. JK Stranger: Well, I don't know your head. RL You: Never been an ex before. JK Stranger: Never let someone close enough for that. RL You: Seems you do know my head. JK Stranger: We're the same that way. RL You: I'm gonna keep wishing for Parrish to fuck off. Just so you know. JK Stranger: That's alright. RL You: Gansey, too. JK Stranger: It was never like that. RL You: He still has you in ways I never will. JK Stranger: Declan probably wouldn't have signed over the papers if I was going back to yours instead of his. RL You: Oh, Declan can fuck off, too. They all can. JK Stranger: You're not gonna hear me say anything to the contrary on that. RL You: Not sure what's left to say. JK Stranger: You know where to find me if the situation changes and likewise. RL You: Go fall in love, fuckface. JK Stranger: Or die trying. RL You: Or just die. JK Stranger: That's you. RL You: Oh, yeah. JK
Don't wear black to my funeral. That's depressing as shit. JK Stranger: You gonna pick out my outfit too? RL You: Just come naked. JK Stranger: Try again. RL You: Your blue jeans and that ugly red sweater you have. JK Stranger: Can I wear my boots? RL You: Yeah. JK Stranger: Keep that in mind. RL You: Add it to your notes. Don't forget. JK Stranger: I won't. Promise. RL You: Promise. Okay, good. JK Stranger: Hope you can see me. RL
If it comes to that. RL You: Course I will, man. After all the shit in our lives, you don't believe in ghosts? JK Stranger: You gonna haunt me? RL You: Gonna haunt Parrish. JK Stranger: Leave him alone. RL You: Not dead yet. JK Stranger: I'm the one who would miss you. RL You: I'd just knock something over whenever you guys were about to have sex. JK
Hahahahaha. I'm so high. JK Stranger: Yeah. RL You: Proko's doing my fucking head in. I wanna kill him again. JK Stranger: What? RL You: What? JK Stranger: What's he doing? RL You: Keeps talking about you and Adam. JK
He's fucking thrilled. JK Stranger: Tell him to fuck off. RL You: Have done. Next, I'm gonna shoot his head off. JK Stranger: Yeah, well. RL You: Stamp of approval? JK Stranger: Don't depend on me for moral decisions. RL You: I'm gonna miss you when I'm dead. JK Stranger: Don't think you'll be conscious of that. RL You: I'll miss you enough now for that, then. JK Stranger: I'm sorry. RL You: There's literally no reason for you to be apologising. JK Stranger: Didn't want what you did. RL You: I wanted stupid shit. JK Stranger: Yeah. You did. RL You: Mostly just you, though. JK Stranger: Still qualifies. RL
I'm a stupid shit. RL You: You wanted me to love you. Not much stupider than that. JK Stranger: Real fucking idiot. RL You: I'm gonna go dream. JK Stranger: Don't bring back something too fucked up. RL You: No promises. JK Stranger: Yeah, yeah. RL You: I kinda loved you, you know. JK You: Just incase I bring back something really fucked up and get eaten or some shit. JK Stranger: In whatever way you were capable. RL You: Yeah. That. JK You: You were the closest. JK Stranger: That's why I'm an ex. RL You: You're gonna be the only one. This shit hurts. JK Stranger: Hope you're my only one, too. RL You: Grow old with Parrish in his trailer. JK Stranger: Something like that. RL You: Gross. JK Stranger: I know. RL You: Never thought I'd want to be trailer trash so bad in my life. JK Stranger: Asked you to be. RL
You said you couldn't see yourself sticking around long enough. RL You: We both know that's true. JK
Plus, like I said, you don't deserve that. JK Stranger: And like I said - you're better than you think. RL You: What if I asked you to forget Parrish and come grow old with me? JK Stranger: I'd want to know you were serious. RL
And I would want to know that you wanted to get better. RL You: Better? JK Stranger: Healthy. Happy. RL You: Healthy? JK Stranger: Not shooting up rocks on a Tuesday. RL You: If I thought I could give you that, I would. JK Stranger: Yeah? RL You: Straight away. JK Stranger: Almost feels nice. RL You: But Parrish already doesn't shoot up rocks on a Tuesday, so he's ahead. JK Stranger: Not a race. RL You: He's already winning. JK Stranger: Forget about him for a second. RL You: Okay. JK Stranger: You willing to try living? RL You: Sounds awful. JK Stranger: That's a no. RL You: Look. If I thought that I could do that, I would. If I knew I wouldn't just keep snorting and disappointing you and fucking you up, I would. But. Jesus, Ronan. Our entire relationship was built on me being the one who hurts you when you need it. That's all I'm good for. JK Stranger: And if that's how you want it to be then I'm not gonna try convincing you. RL You: Pick the healthy option. JK Stranger: Whatever. RL You: Don't be mad. JK Stranger: I'm allowed to feel how I want to feel. RL You: Alright. JK Stranger: And I'm not gonna forgive you for this. RL
I already told you that. RL You: Counting on it. JK Stranger: [No Reply] You: Not gonna say goodbye? JK Stranger: What's the point? RL You: Damn. Okay. JK You: Fucking look after yourself, Lynch. JK Stranger: Do my best. RL You: [no reply] Stranger: Wish I didn't hate you for what we already knew. RL You: Stop messaging me. Go be happy with your trailer trash. JK Stranger: You're not the boss of me. RL You: Want me to be? JK You: Ha. Jokes. JK Stranger: You're not funny. RL You: I'm high. Everything's funny. JK You: But really. Go, Ronan. JK Stranger: Don't you usually kick a dog before yelling at them to run. RL You: Think I've hurt ya enough. JK Stranger: Whatever, man. RL You: If Parrish ends up being a dick, I can kill him for you. JK Stranger: You're my hitman now? RL You: Sure. JK Stranger: Gonna have to stay alive long enough for me to stir up shit. RL You: No promises. JK You: I'll leave it in my will. Get one of the boys to do it. JK Stranger: They won't give enough of a shit to follow through. RL You: They're my friends. JK Stranger: Yeah. RL
But they're not mine. RL You: They do as they're told. JK You: Well, Jiang doesn't. JK Stranger: Can't enforce that when you're dead. RL You: Goodbye, Lynch. JK Stranger: [to: Adam] Can I come over? RL You: Everything okay? AP Stranger: Just would really like to see you. RL You: Oh. Yeah, sure. I'll be home in ten. AP Stranger: I'll be by the door. RL
Don't startle. RL You: Are you sure you're good? AP Stranger: I don't want to talk about it. RL You: So, you're not. AP Stranger: No. RL
I'm not. RL You: Okay. AP
Want me to bring food? AP Stranger: Not sure if I can eat. RL
I can order something if you're hungry. RL You: Can't eat? Ronan, what's wrong? AP Stranger: I want to kiss you. RL You: [delayed] Oh. Okay. AP
Ten minutes. AP Stranger: Ten minutes. RL You: [no reply] You: [hey i really have to go cos its literally 5:30 am here omg but i really wanna continue this so you could send ur response to my email. only if u want to of course! it's morgan_ine@hotmail.com . if you dont carry on by email thats cool, i've really loved this!] Stranger: ((Sure! It's also getting pretty late here. Sweet dreams, d00d!)) You: [sleep well! You have disconnected.