#i just sort of threw everything at the wall and hoped something stuck!!!

[fleckcmscott]

Something Old, Everything New

Summary: After Arthur has a run in with the past, Y/N provides the shelter she’s always hoped to.

Words: 4,227

Warnings: Swearing, Smut

A/N: @tally-kiza made the request that prompted this story. Cal, I hope it's what you're looking for! 😂 Heartfelt thanks to @sweet-nothings04 for beta-ing, helping with the summary, and her neverending kindness and support. 💜

If you have any thoughts or questions, please comment, feel free to message me, or send me an ask. Requests for Arthur and WWH are open!

The shopping list was broken into three sections, each separated by a thick, felt-tip line. Ingredients for a recipe Y/N was keeping secret. Refills of temazepam and fluoxetine. And supplies for light repairs he was determined to finish before the weekend was out.

Through poverty and an absent landlord, Arthur had become something of a handyman as a teen. He'd figured out how to snake gooey clumps of hair from the shower drain, unstick stuck drawers with a spritz of WD-40, patch the hole in the wall left by his fist. A job done himself was a dollar saved, a buck to spend on cigarettes or butterscotch candies, depending on how his week went.

Tapping each item on the paper, he dodged a pallet of tightly stacked potting soil and ambled down the fourth aisle of Garber's Value Hardware and Housewares, his first stop and a staple that'd served Burnley since 1926. Paint thinner stains dotted the creaky wooden floor, the shop's knob and tube wiring was a decade out of code, and the fumes of last year's grease saturated the air.

The red bins of O-rings, washers, and valve seals were poorly sorted. He sifted through grimy plastic baggies, searching for a standard size set. The kitchen faucet had been leaking for weeks, and the drops grew ever fatter and faster. He decided on a variety pack, then aimed for the door section for hinge lubricant, as vegetable oil no longer quieted the bedroom door's squeaks and squawks.

He was midway through the yellow bottle's directions when an old nickname smacked him in the back of the head.

"Hey, Fleck the Speck!"

The jovial call made Arthur's joints as stuck as an old drawer.     

"Hell, it's been what, twenty years?" Richard continued, dark blue mechanic's overalls swishing as he advanced on Arthur. The guy thrust a friendly hand his way. "You just kinda fell off the face of the earth. How've you been?"

Arthur glared at that hand.

Richard McMahon was an old classmate, from Cowther's Middle School straight through sophomore year at Gotham High. Being held back two years hadn't stopped him from reaching the level of cool to go by Rick, not Dick.

And he was one of the many people Arthur could have gone to his grave without seeing.

Fleck the Speck had caught on amongst Rick's group of rowdies like too much Brylcreem. Dingy hair and ratty, ill-fitting clothes had made Arthur a target to rival a dart board. Rick's hair had been just as greasy, his t-shirt couldn't keep up with his stocky teenage body. But youth hierarchy demanded someone be shit on, and via his natural awkwardness, Arthur attracted all the flies.

But that was then, and this was now, and if Arthur interpreted Rick-not-Dick's tone correctly, he saw him as a regular guy.

"I'm good," Arthur said, returning the shake. The man grabbed him in a sweltering grip. "I- I had a lot going on. With my mother and everything."

"Good, good. You working now?"

"Yes. I'm a comedian."

"No shit! You still doing that laugh?"

That Rick would bring up Arthur's condition wasn't a shock. It'd been a source of endless entertainment for his peers. He took half a step back. "Doing that laugh?"

"Yeah! It was a riot, really threw the teachers off, too. Got any kids?"

Rapid fire questions with teasing cloaked as compliments dizzied Arthur, like he was a returning guest on the Murray show under the lights and the heat. "I'm married."

"Me, too. You remember Shelly Petters?"

Shelly Peters had sat to Arthur's left in US History, a course he'd struggled with like all the rest. Getting dates confused was too easy, and it was far too hard to concentrate while awaiting next month's allotment of government peanut butter and wondering if Penny had left on the oven again.

In her pink miniskirt and flowing, flaxen locks, Shelly had been a beauty fit for the cover of TV Guide.  During the mid-term, he'd frowned at the blue test booklet, the words swimming in front of him. Frustration channeled its way to his knee, bouncing it against the bottom of the desk. Bang. Bang. Bang. The force of his grip snapped his pencil in two. The pointed half fell and rolled across the floor, right into Mr. Galloway's shoes.

As if helping Arthur was the most natural thing in the world, Shelly had offered her spare. He'd done his best not to chew on it and fallen in love.

But his heart was as poorly schooled as his mind. As sweet as that recollection was, it was interlinked with the truth of how rare kindness had been.

He'd untangled his curls, slicked them back with tap water. Tucked his sweater into his trousers, rolled up the cuffs to hide the holes. When he'd caught up to her by her locker, Rick had stuck one heavy foot between them.

"What'd you do to your hair?" The rowdies formed a half circle, a pack of wolves, and the leader addressed his eager audience. "You gonna put on a show for us, Fleck the Speck? How about telling one of them jokes of yours? Knockknockknockknockknock!"

"Richard, stop it," Shelly hissed.

Laughter forced a cough from Arthur, his fingers clawing his trousers in an attempt to get control over his breathing. The tightening of his throat turned tears into a nakedness that choked. He'd fled to the boy's bathroom on the third floor. Locked himself in the last stall. Wiped his snot with cheap toilet paper and sleeves. What a fool he was for trying to raise himself above his station. The station shared by them all.

A blink returned Arthur to the present. The raw quality of his voice couldn't be restrained. "Shelly married you?"

"Right out of high school," Rick said. "Our daughter graduated this year. It was fun, seeing the old gym again. It hasn't changed one iota." His thumb gestured at Arthur's baggy cardigan, a hitchhiking motion. "Looks like you haven't changed much, either."

Nostalgia coated the comment, not meanness. But the same sense of worthlessness engulfed Arthur, joined by a rising fury that this man - this- this asshole - maintained the power to tear him down. To leave him the same boy who'd fled to the bathroom, when he'd tried to be more than allowed.

Crumpling his shopping list, Arthur shoved his first in his pocket before he could shove it in Dick-not-Rick's nose. Blunt nails dug his palms. "I can't believe she'd marry someone like you."

Offense deformed the man's face. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Don't you remember? All you did was make fun of me."

"Hey, everyone had a nickname back then. It was all a joke."

"Yeah, well. Comedy is subjective, Dick, and I never thought it was funny."

"We were kids. Kids do stupid shit." A hint of reticence twitched Dick's mouth. Lifting his chin, he straightened his features into calm. "I'll say hi to Shelly for you. Let her know you're doing all right. She'll be glad to hear it."

Then came the words that hit Arthur like a hammer.

"You really haven't changed at all."

~~~~~

Y/N brushed stray strands from her hair, the usual stragglers after a fresh cut. Wilma, the hairdresser she'd been seeing for three years, had called out sick, so she'd met a new beauty school graduate named Nancy. Though shy about feathering, the girl was eager to blunt cut. Y/N had halted her with a raised hand just as she was about to give her bangs.

Crossing the living room, Y/N paused long enough to turn on the TV, where a rerun of the Honeymoon Game would start at five. Arthur and she had become experts at guessing each other's answers and often ended those nights with more than a kiss. Being newlyweds themselves, it was the perfect watch.

And what a blissful eight months it'd been.

All on her own, she'd made the leap to move to Gotham at an age when most people had a spouse, a house, and two cars in a garage. Self-sufficiency had been her middle name for over a decade. She hadn't planned on getting remarried, instead relishing in finally having her own path.

But fate had introduced her to the kindest, most wonderful man she'd ever met, and the whole world had shifted.

It was a delight to have a helper, a partner. A person she could come home to and who could come home to her, who brightened her day with love and laughter. Who made the smallest domesticities matter, because she could share them. And being married to Arthur was fun.

She'd jotted a shopping list this morning, starting with ingredients for skillet enchiladas, a recipe he'd played at trying to peek. Then he'd perched on the kitchen counter and named all the hardware he needed, counting on his fingers as he went. There was something undeniably alluring about it. A masculine confidence that tickled her insides, a suaveness that came naturally when he let go enough to let it.

Alone, she would have waited at the bottom of the super's list for small fixes. She was good at keeping house, but repairs were outside of her league, Class A when her skill set was Class C. Now, sitting at the dinette table with a cup of tea and the Gotham Times, she couldn't stop picturing Arthur holding a wrench. The flex of his bicep as he twisted it, his broad stance as he bent over the sink.

Heat burned her cheeks, a good dose of fluster. Squeezing her thighs together, she turned the page.

Just as she'd read a statement from Gotham's Office of Management and Budget protesting any attempt to expand aid for the unemployed, the front door unlocked. She pushed the paper aside, tightened the bow of her pencil skirt. "There you are, Mr. Fleck," she said, rising to help with the shopping bags. "Did you find everything?"

A single sack hung from Arthur's twitchy knuckles. Brown paper. Wrinkled. The size of a lunch bag.

Head tilted to one side, she tested its light weight with two lifting motions. "Was Ed's closed?"

"No."

She looked inside. Hardware jumbled at the bottom, along with a distinct lack of orange, plastic bottles. "What about your medication?"

"Don't worry about it."

He shoved his tan jacket on the hook next to hers. Fingers smoothed his hair, turning into claws, a pressure that blanched his temples. Warmth fled her face, replaced by a concerned chill, for it was a move she recognized. A jarring and painful echo of tough times.

Without the usual peck, the usual caress, the usual smile, he walked past her to the living room. Grabbed the remote from the coffee table and flicked off the TV.

One foot forward before she held back. "Arthur, what's wrong?"

No answer, no turn towards her. No indication he'd heard her inquiry. He jerked the chair from his desk and dropped into it. Yanked open the top left drawer and smacked his journal to the surface.

Y/N's breath caught in her breast. When Arthur was upset, a pattern came into play: he wanted space, and she respected him by giving it. A behavior she attributed to his years of isolation and not a small amount of fear. Yes, she'd gotten used to it. But that didn't make it any less irksome, any less hard on her heart. Without the whole story of what'd happened, she found herself at a loss as to how to help. A fog had rolled in and she was a dinghy, drifting through choppy waters with a broken masthead.

She forced herself to browse the cupboards, search for what to piece together for a comforting meal. A can of peas sat on the second shelf. There was half a box of macaroni, but they'd used the last jar of tomato sauce on Monday. In the freezer, one Salisbury steak Swanson stood its ground, next to bags of chicken breasts and sweet corn. It was all about as comforting as cold chowder.

In the doorway by the dinette table, she observed him anew. He hunched over his desk, muttering to himself. He'd shed his cardigan and shirt, his trousers, even his worn white socks. They lay strewn on the other side of the room divider to his right. Out of sight but, judging from his posture, far too firmly in mind.

She approached with quiet, measured steps. Stopped six inches behind him. His every sinew screamed dissent. Ballpoint pen scratched across paper. She pushed herself to her tiptoes to peer over his shoulder. Though his forearm covered two-thirds of his journal, enough of the slanted script cried out to her.

"...bad guys alwaze win at life. 35 years here and I got one prize!!!!! What??? How fucking long can peeple like Dick make me feel awful? I don't want anything to hurt me any more. They never think what it's like to be someone like me. This city is too crowded and full of Dicks. If I..."

Testing the waters of what Arthur was willing to receive, she laid her hands on the nape of his neck. It was cement under her palms. Thumbs worked lines up and down on both sides, beneath brown curls that brushed knuckles. After a minute, after he hadn't pushed her away, she said, "You don't have to shut me out."

His scrawling stopped.

Lines became circles as she moved outwards. The pads of her fingers traced his clavicle, massaged the bony knobs of his shoulders. But his muscles grew tauter, and she realized the swirling strokes stung instead of soothed. Reluctance ached her sternum. She swallowed against the worry he hated.

He'd been in worse shape before and he'd come to her. He would come to her again soon.

In the meantime, she'd meet him where he was. Care for him the best way she knew how. "I'll get the groceries and stop by Groves." Her lips brushed the shell of his ear. "And be home before you have a chance to miss me." One final squeeze before she turned to leave.

Quick as a whip, his hand locked around her wrist.

Relief flooded her frame. A welcome, wished for reaction to the man she loved. The man she was devoted to, the man she adored opening up enough to need her. She went to his side, assuming he wanted to embrace her, press his face to her stomach. Let go with her, into her. But his posture remained rigid, a ramrod of resentment. His whole body appeared to be filled with waiting - but for what?

He traced the veins on her forearm, mapped a path to her palm. Her fingers curled around his. Low and rumbling, he pierced the silence. "Say you want me." A rasp equal parts desperation and demand. "Tell me." When his gaze darted to hers, the smoldering in his stare said he wanted to possess her.

She'd let him.

One sideways step to stand before him. Her rear rested on the lip of his desk.

"I want you," she said. She placed his palm on her breast, guided his thumb beneath the placket of her blouse. Popped the buttons with a flick of her fingers. "Put your hands on me."

A harsh inhale as he shot upwards, grabbed her chin with greedy hands, and shoved his mouth to hers. Her bottom lip caught on his teeth. He groaned and lapped the sting away. In one smooth motion, he shoved her skirt to her waist and lifted her onto the desk. The pages of his journal crumpled under her ass.

He grasped her collar, tugged crepe to her elbows. She snaked between their torsos to open the front of her bra. Her breasts spilled onto him and he groaned. Smothered her mouth with a savage intensity.

His clothed erection bumped her vulva, flint striking stone. Aching, her nipples tightened against his chest, his hair tickling, teasing. Thumbs hooked around the lace trim of her panties. He shoved them over her hips, down her thighs, past her knees. When the cotton reached her toes, she kicked them off. They landed on the console stereo, hung indelicately from the corner.

Dragging her ass to the edge of the desk, Arthur pulled himself out of his briefs. She fell backwards onto her elbows, knocked over their framed photograph, taken on a night to remember. It fell to the wooden surface with a slap. He cupped her labia, slipped a pointer between her lips. Long enough to test her readiness, to test her willingness.

The desk lamp's gentle light played across his ribs, his toned abdomen, his thighs. Breath shallow and ragged, she eyed the tip of his cock. Purplish red and shiny with slick. Stare fixed on her center, he took it in his palm. She gulped. Her knees fell further apart as she canted upward, her damp folds brushing his knuckles. He pumped once. Twice.

And then he breached her.

A rough cry flew from her throat. One leg curled about him, her heel at the small of his back, her other foot braced on the seat of his chair.

Bent over her now, he propped himself on one hand. Cupped her neck and sheathed his shaft completely. He crushed her to him for a fierce, firm kiss. The tip of his tongue pressed for entry. But before she could grant it, he moved to nuzzle her temple, her jaw.

Steady and sharp, his thrusts impaled her with the taste of something primal. The hot glide of flesh on flesh. His thighs rattled the pencil drawer. He grunted. Fucked faster, harder. The desk threatened to bang the wall.

His sweaty face fell to the crook of her shoulder and her eyes fell shut. The sensation of him inside her was powerful, overwhelming. A stretch that scorched in every way she wanted, forever and always.

This felt different, though. In the past, she'd invited him to take comfort in her body. To let their coming together be a haven, their union be a defiance against the tragedies life had dealt him. Besides the night she'd confessed she loved him, he hadn't taken her in that way. Arthur doing so now confirmed the strength of their connection. How much he trusted her, how much he honored her, as equally as she trusted and honored him.

Her heart longed to comfort him, too. To heal whatever had happened, to make the present and future brighter than the past. She sealed that vow with a kiss to his cheek.

His pelvis jerked unevenly, stammering between her thighs. She clutched his shoulder, gripped his forearm. A ragged moan tumbled past his lips, onto her skin. Her calves rose to squeeze him tight, tighter. Fingertips digging her hip, he stiffened, his hot essence splashing her walls. Gasps mingled, humid and heated. His abdomen quivered against hers.

Once he'd softened and steadied his breath, he slipped out of her. Arming his forehead, he stumbled to land in the chair.

Slowly, she clambered down, one foot meeting the carpet, then the other. She left her skirt at her waist but peeled off her blouse. Wiped their mess from the desk and tossed it on the pile of his clothes. She smoothed the pages of his journal, shut its leather cover. Smiling, she picked up their picture. Straightened the easel and put it in its place.

When she turned towards Arthur, he appeared to still be in a state, but one not altogether unpleasant. Gaze dazed and out of focus, dark brows lifted and lines of his face relaxed. And was that blush the result of his brazenness or his orgasm?

"Feeling better?" she asked, slinging an arm about him as she sat sideways on his lap.

"Uh huh."

She gave a throaty little laugh. "Good."

Sticky with perspiration, his forehead met her cheek. Her nails ran over his scalp, caught in damp, knotted curls. He heaved a long sigh, which goosepimpled her skin. Quiet blanketed them, tranquil and lovely, sunlight that sliced through the earlier fog.

But clouds did remain, questions she couldn't let go. Who was Dick? And what had he done to her husband, both then and now?

Rumbling disturbed the peace, a loud squeal like a balloon. Chuckling, Arthur splayed his fingers on her stomach. "Sorry about the groceries."

"Don't be." She covered his hand with hers. "I have an idea."

~~~~~

At a nearby diner, in a booth by the kitchen, over a blue-plate special of baked beans and hot dogs, Arthur told Y/N about it. All of it. The bullying, the cruelty of laughter, the taunting he hadn't always understood but a tone as familiar as not fitting anywhere. How reading had been hard and therefore it'd been hard to learn, even when he'd had the will. ("No one else had any problems. I felt stupid all the time.") That the awfulness he'd been destined to encounter every day made it a ten round fight to get off the couch, get washed up, and get to school.

And that he didn't get - would never get - how a guy as mean as Dick McMahon could wind up with the nicest girl in class.

Arthur scraped his spoon across the plate to snag the last bite of beans. "I dunno. I didn't want to be upset. That happened when we were kids."

"It's normal to be upset by assholes," Y/N countered. "What happened wasn't okay. Twenty years doesn't change that."

"But shouldn't it be easier by now? He said I hadn't changed but I have." Arthur wanted to believe that. He had to believe that.

"There're people I don't ever want to see again, no matter how much they've changed. Why do you think I moved to Gotham?"

The corner of his mouth quirked. "You're right, I just-" A slight shake of his head as he broke off. Dick had already stolen enough of today. Arthur wasn't about to allow him the rest. He retrieved a cigarette from his pocket and lit up. "I don't want to talk about it anymore. I'll be fine. I just want to enjoy being with you."

"You're always welcome." She caught the waitress's attention with a raised hand and ordered a decaf and slice of Pineapple Dream Pie. "We can get groceries tomorrow. Your refills, too. No, wait. Groves is closed Sundays."

"I have enough until Wednesday. Don't you have an appointment that morn-?"

"Schcuze me, ma'am?"

At the end of their table stood a man, clad in an orange and white Gotham Knights basketball jersey. A fiery K was emblazoned on his cheek. Arthur wondered where the rest of the letters had fled to.

The squire teetered on drunken knees. "Can I have your catchsup?" he asked, gesturing towards the glass bottle at the other end of the booth. Arthur handed it over. The man offered a goofy grin and shuffled away.

When he'd rounded the counter, Y/N smirked. "I hope he ordered a pot of coffee. Anyway, yes, Dr. Shapiro's at ten. Just a routine visit and he'll check my IUD. I got it after I moved, so it should have a few years left in it."

Ready to tease, Arthur wrinkled his nose. "But why? When we met, you said you weren't looking."

"Well, I wanted to be prepared. And it's a good thing, too, because that changed when you came along."

Chuckling, he rubbed the nape of his neck. A very good thing, indeed.

She poured the last of the creamer in her coffee, gave it a slow stir. She put the spoon on the saucer and lifted the beige mug. For a moment, her eyes had a faraway look. Her lashes fluttered it away. "Do you ever feel like you missed out, having only been with me?"

A flinch shot through him. "No. Why would you think that?"

"It's silly, I know. It's just that I was married before. I dated. You didn't have all that. And I'm older than you." The sheepish tuck of hair behind her ear. "I just wonder sometimes, that's all."

The cash register opened and shut. Order Up! bellowed from the kitchen. The shop bell ting ting tinged.

Arthur rested his cigarette in the table ashtray. Slid out of the booth and slid onto the bench seat beside her. "I'm comfortable with you and you care about me. I care about you, too."

A bright blush as she drank. Contentment washed over him, a happiness he hadn't known he could have before being with her. In this diner, in this city, in this life. A life he couldn't have dreamed of in that high school bathroom stall, snotting all over himself and asking why don't I fit, why don't I fit, why don't I fit?

"You know what's changed?" he started, folding her into his side. "I'm not alone anymore. Instead of getting angry, I should've bragged about that."

Beaming, she angled to face him. "You'll have plenty of chances."

She brought the mug to his mouth. Though he disliked milk in his java and one sugar wasn't enough, he stole a quick sip. Then he kissed her, sipping from her lips to wash the bitter away.

~~~~~

Tag list (Let me know if you want to be added!): @harmonioussolve​​​​​ @ithinkimaperson​​​​​ @sweet-nothings04​​​​​ @stephieraptorr​​​​ @rommies​​​​​ @fallenstarsabyss @gruffle1​​​​​ @another-day-in-chuckletown​ @hhandley80​​​​​ @jokerownsmysoul​​​​​ @rafaelbottom @ralugraphics​​​​​ @iartsometimes​​​​​ @fleckficgirl

[cryoux]

My first time posting anything ever and it's gotta be nalu

"Lucy," he whispered, brow furrowed with some sort of feeling twisting his heart. It wasn't anger, but it wasn't really sadness either, and Natsu couldn't figure out what other emotions could feel this bad.

He had always hated her tears. Seeing the crystals falling from her soft eyes, in combination with the sniffles and sobs she'd occasionally let out was the worst possible thing he could witness, and he had vowed to make sure anybody who made Lucy cry would pay.

But… he couldn't do that here. As airheaded as Natsu was, he recognized that. Lucy was in the corner of her home, sitting against the wall and holding her knees to herself as the tears fell relentlessly. And for him, it was all too easy to figure out what exactly she was crying about.

He could just distract her, like every other time he'd found her distraught. Jokes and general cheer always brought her mood back up, and it was certainly less nerve-wracking than trying to offer emotional advice. Hell, Natsu barely knew what he was feeling at any point, and there was no way he could help someone else with the same.

That wouldn't work, though. Not this time.

As quietly as possible, Natsu approached his partner, kneeling down in front of her. In addition to being far too absorbed in her sorrow to look up and notice him, Lucy had her head buried in her hands as she weeped.

Natsu gingerly brushed a hand on her head, and the way she jolted and looked up made his heart shatter irreparably in his chest.

"Natsu…"

Truthfully, he had long since adored the way she said his name. He never thought that a name could sound nice until he heard the way Lucy called his out in the heat of battle, or how she excitedly greeted him with an exclamation, or even huffed it out in the most endearing form of annoyance he'd ever witnessed from a person.

Needless to say, he'd never get bored of her name either. Plenty of times he'd heard the name Lucy, seeing how common of a name it was, and yet the fact that it was hers made everything different. Lucky Lucy of Fairy Tail - that was her 'full' name in his head anyways. Because just as claimed in her past, Lucy was his good luck charm, and Lucy was, for lack of any words, simply the most Lucy she could be.

She meant the world to him, and that was that.

As soon as she'd recovered from the initial shock of being found like this, she let out another sob and threw herself into Natsu's chest, embracing him in a death hug that he fully reciprocated. Here in her arms, burying his face in her golden hair and drowning in her scent, Natsu knew he was done for. He'd never be able to give this up, he realized. He just hoped with all of his heart that she could ever feel the same.

"S'okay." He mumbled in assurance, though he wasn't sure why she was crying in the first place. Whatever it was, he vowed, he would fix it, be it a broken heart or a nerve touched by some guy - that warranted a good beating from one of the strongest mages in Fairy Tail. Anybody who dared badmouth Lucy soon saw the wrath of a dragon, akin to a glimpse of the afterlife.

As he was caught up in his thoughts of violence towards any who wronged her, Lucy was in fact crying about a whole different thing. The bad guys weren't out there, she'd long since learned never to take others' criticism to heart. It was the voice in her own head that hurt her the most, the one thing that Natsu couldn't beat up and move on from.

"What's up?" He asked in the gentlest voice he could muster, terrified of saying something wrong.

"I'm… not good enough."

What?

Apparently his face said it all, because she decided to explain herself, if only a little.

"I'm so useless to you guys! My spirits can only be as strong as I am, and after seeing their Eclipse forms… what if they feel trapped just because I'm so weak? Like they can't access their full power because of me?" Bleary-eyed, she shook against him helplessly, stuck in the realization of this tragedy.

Natsu thought it was the most bullshit thing he'd ever heard.

"What are you talking about? You're amazing."

She sighed. "No, Natsu, face it, I'm the weakest link. Our team would be so much better off without me, and we all know it. So why do we keep pretending like I belong?"

His head shook adamantly. "You aren't anything like that. You're what keeps us going, what holds us together. We'd never finish half the things we do if you weren't there to save our butts." He pulled back from their embrace to look into her eyes, with conviction rooted in his. "We're a team. And we'd be a team, magic or not. Nothing's ever gonna change that." Then, he simply dazzled her with that brilliant toothy white smile, dark eyes sparkling with happiness in a way that she'd only known Natsu to do. Everything about him was utterly unique, each expression, gesture, and sentence from him being incomparable to anything Lucy had seen. To her, he and his flames were like the sun- no, not like The Sun. Natsu was a new kind of sun, a different but incredibly welcome kind of warmth and light for everyone in Fairy Tail.

She only stared at him through all these contemplations, until she realized how strange it must have felt for him. What could she say? It wasn't like she could agree, but outright denying him felt wrong too. Why, these days, did it feel like they were constantly shifting on a glass floor, with each bad move threatening to send them crashing? Did it feel the same way for him?

"Lucy," he called softly, his grin fading into a soft smile that melted every bit of her. It was clear he was waiting for a response, something to let him know she was okay, but Lucy still didn't have anything she felt satisfied with giving. For being a writer and priding herself on her eloquence, she sure couldn't remember any words when she needed them the most.

It's not like Natsu was any good with words.

An idea struck her.

Her beloved partner was inspiring, encouraging, and uplifting in all the things he said - but ultimately, over their friendship, Lucy had learned that Natsu knew actions much better than words. When she was upset, he hugged her. When he was sad, he rarely ever spoke about it. When he was livid about some despicable act, he would fight his way to peace, despite how contradictory that was. When she had fallen ill and was unable to see the Sakura blossoms, Natsu uprooted the entire tree and sent it down the river just for her! Yes, Natsu showed everything through actions, so it made sense that an action would be what he best understood.

Now resolved, Lucy took a deep breath to calm her racing heart. It didn't work; her proximity to Natsu was going to keep her heart rate escalated indefinitely. Damn her charming teammate and his endearing smiles.

Leaning up a bit, Lucy was trembling as she carried out this action. Her heart sang as she pressed her lips to his cheek, almost giggling at the feeling of his absurd body temperature against them. The moment lasted a mere second before she drew back, opting to shut her eyes and bite her lip rather than face what she'd done.

Meanwhile, Natsu drew a blank.

He'd gotten kisses on the cheek before. He was well familiar with the custom of greeting close friends or family with this particular gesture of affection, so it wasn't really strange that Lucy had done it.

Wasn't it?

He'd never seen her do anything like this before - maybe with Michelle, a couple of times with Levy, but never quite like this. For one, those kisses were fleeting, barely a brush of contact. That was not what had just happened. Did she do this more than he initially thought? Had she done this to Erza, or Cana, or even Gray? Red hot jealousy shot through him at the thought of Lucy's lips touching Gray of all people - that didn't seem normal. He tried to imagine Erza kissing Gray on the cheek to see if it invoked a similar feeling, but all he found in that endeavor was disgust.

Happy was right, he realized.

Virgo was right.

The whole guild had been right.

He liked her.

He LIKED Lucy. More than normal, more than he'd ever liked anyone before, more than just a friend.

This revelation needed to be shared.

"I like you." He blurted unceremoniously, looking at his partner anxiously.

Lucy opened her eyes and furrowed her brow, what? "Well I know that, we're best friends, right?"

Natsu shook his head fervently. "No, I REALLY like you, Luce."

The blonde shrugged in his arms. "Right, we're partners, then. I like you too Natsu," she spoke nonchalantly, in a way that told Natsu she wasn't getting it.

"That's not what I-" The dragon slayer felt a frustrated growl bubbling in his throat as he stumbled over his words. Good lord, how he hated words. Why did everything have to have a double meaning? There had to be a simpler, more efficient way of communicating.

Lo and behold, there was one.

One that could break their friendship, if he went through with it. One inspired by her, in hopes that what he had felt really was a sign, and one that sounded more appealing with each fleeting thought. This was what people did when they liked someone they're close to, right?

Natsu absolutely hated the uncertainty coursing through him right now, and he decided the only way to tip that horrible feeling of bated anticipation was to dive headfirst into action. Almost literally.

He reached his hands up to rest on her face, almost laughing at how serious she tried to appear despite the way he squished her cheeks. Before she could even protest, Natsu ducked his head down and placed a clumsy kiss right on Lucy's soft lips.

"Lucy," he said once again, unable to meet her eyes as a shade of pink rivaling his hair covered his cheeks. His tone was… uncertain, in a way that Lucy had rarely ever heard before. "I like you."

Wait a minute, she wasn't concerned about his tone, he'd just KISSED her?! Natsu Dragneel, the most idiotic dragon slayer, the most hot-headed wizard in all of Fiore, the rowdiest member of Fairy Tail, and her best friend - it couldn't be. For months she'd disregarded her own feelings, out of pure anxiety and fear that was completely warranted. She was so sure he didn't have a clue what romance meant, much less how it felt.

"Th…" Lucy brought a hand up to brush against her lips, still replaying the memory of the way his felt. "That was… my first kiss."

What?!

Natsu recoiled instantly, eyes wide and flustered face now on its way to match Erza's hair. "Oh, crap! I'm- I'm sorry Lucy, I know how much that meant to ya I swear I didn't mean it- well I did, but- augh!" Frustration took over his voice as he grabbed a fistful of his own hair, as if to calm himself - or maybe yank a good sentence out of his head. Whatever the case, Lucy didn't pay much attention. That is, until he turned to leave. No, he couldn't leave!

"Wait!" Without thinking Lucy grabbed his hand, forcing him to turn back around and look at her. What the hell was her plan?! Of course, she didn't HAVE one! But had he?

Without allowing it much more thought, Lucy put her hands squarely on his shoulders and leaned up on her toes to kiss him. It was shy, it was hesitant, but it was everything she'd dreamed it to be and more. Natsu's lips were hot against hers, just like she thought they'd be, and he was rather stiff throughout the kiss. Then again, Lucy was sure she was the same way.

As she drew away, she looked up at Natsu, who still had his eyes closed as he attempted to recover.

"Luce," he rasped, toned arms wrapping around her firmly, burying his nose into the soft skin of her neck and inhaling deeply. She smelled divine, in that comforting way that managed to quell his motion sickness even the slightest bit. In the way that told him everything was going to be okay, because as long as he had Lucy by his side he could never allow himself to die. In the way she always had.

The blonde squeaked, alarmed. "Natsu!" She gasped, unsure of her partner's intentions until she felt him heave a content sigh. Oh, right. He said I smell good to him. Any other time, Lucy would have called him a creep and told him to knock it off. But now? Now she found it endearing, in a way. How strange.

Their future was uncertain, now. But for once, Lucy truly welcomed this uncertainty, as that very fog harbored a whole new land of possibility that she couldn't wait to explore; with none other than Natsu by her side.

[tssbelivet]

Bring Me Home, Shaw: Part Three

part one | part two | part three

I must say, it felt a little awkward to write the First Kiss™️ in this story, but I hope I made it feel authentic to the characters. I have some different ideas on how to go forward from here, let’s see what will happen :) Thanks again to lovely @fantasmaenweb for feedback - she recommended me to use a bit more spacing and paragraphs, which will hopefully enhance the reading experience.

Carson checked her phone. Charlie was supposed to get home in three hours. He had texted her the day before, while she was still in Chicago. 

While she was saying goodbye to her. 

The mixed emotions had made her head spin. Here was this woman she had fell for so hard, and so quickly. She was not sure how things would go from here, but she knew she had to open up to Charlie about the self-discovery journey she had embarked on ever since Greta had kissed her. Or well, ever since their first, slightly awkward meeting on the streets of Chicago. If she was being honest to herself, Carson had been attracted to Greta from that very first moment, even if she did not realise it at the time.

During that first night at the bar, Greta had asked her about her life. About her passions, her ambitions, her family. She had been curious, but careful too.

Carson had told her about her difficult relationship with her sister (”I think I remind her too much of our mom”) and the fact that she was feeling rather stuck in life, even though she seemed to have everything going for her. “I do not really know what I am doing, really. This trip to Chicago feels like I might be running away from something, but I cannot find the right words for it.”Greta had been looking at her in a thoughtful manner. “Maybe you are not running away, but running towards your destiny?”

Carson had tried to wrap her head around this thought, which was not an easy task after having a few drinks. She probably should not have drunk that last gin. It was getting late, too. Jo, who had occupied herself playing darts in the corner, inched closer and whispered something in Greta’s ear. Greta smiled and said: “Yeah, I think we should go soon. Will you let me take Carson back to her hotel? Just giving you a head’s start on your nighttime shower ritual, you know. And I wouldn’t want little miss Idaho to get lost.”

Carson looked up just fast enough to catch the little eye roll Jo threw at Greta. “Okay, that’s settled then. Let’s grab our coats and get moving, Carson.”

The two women were walking to Carson’s hotel. Greta had teased her about picking this particular place, a rather old-fashioned establishment that definitely looked like it could use some renovating. “I just didn’t want to splurge on a big fancy place. I do not have that much money, you know”. Greta scrunched her face at her. “Oh damn, so responsible!”

Carson felt her cheeks reddening and felt grateful that it was too dark for Greta to notice. She had felt some sort of tension building up ever since they had left the bar.

Never had she met anyone like Greta. The way she was carrying herself, her confidence, and how she was able to comfort Carson with just a few meaningful and reassuring comments. The way her stomach fluttered every time Greta would shoot her a smile.

They were getting closer to the hotel when they passed a small alley, only dimly lit by the nearest streetlight.

Greta slowed down her step, grabbed Carson by the arm and ushered her towards the alleyway. “Come with me.” Carson was confused. “Is this a shortcut or something? It looks a bit creepy, to be honest.” Greta carefully smiled at her for a moment.

Then she kissed her, slowly grabbing her by the shoulders and pulling her closer, so that they were both leaning back against the sturdy wall. It wasn’t rushed, frantic, or any of those things. It was calm and again, reassuring. Greta stopped, her eyes darting from Carson’s eyes to her lips, silent. Smiling.

Carson wasn’t ready to end this moment just yet. On the contrary. She felt a sudden wave of desire washing over her. She wanted this. She wanted Greta. It might have been that last gin or just the fact that something had seemingly awoken within her, but Carson felt brave. She grabbed Greta’s face and crashed their lips together, moving her hands from Greta’s neck to the back of her head. She was fully immersed in the moment, forgetting everything around her.

Quite suddenly, Greta pulled back from their kiss while still holding her. 

“I thought so”.

While Carson was trying to control her breathing, Greta grabbed a pen from her purse. In one swift motion, she took Carson’s hand and wrote down her number. “I think you’ll be able to find your hotel from here. Here’s my cell in case you get lost, in one way or another.”

She planted a kiss on Carson’s wrist and walked back to where they had come from, not looking back one last time. Carson leaned her back against the wall for support. Staring at the neat handwriting on her hand, she could almost feel Greta’s lips lingering on there again.

How would she ever make it to her hotel, let alone have a good night’s sleep after this?

[haleths]

365 DAYS OF KNOWING ANGIE | happy anniversary @jiangwanyin 💕💕💕 ​

when we woke up that morning we had no way of knowing that in a matter of hours we’d change the way we were going where would I be now? where would I be now if we never met?

[piko-power]

Thinking about how Sonic got grounded in the Wachowski household for the first time. (More pre-sequel headcanons because yes)

Like one evening Sonic was playing some video games (On the Genesis, baby!) and at one point he couldn't beat a certain level and he was just not having a good time. He was getting really tense and kind of angry, but he wouldn't give up.

It's already been a good hour or so and he is still struggling on his game. Eventually he was halfway done with the level. There was hope in his eyes. His chuckles of relief got more brighter the further he gets to the goal.

He's going to make it! He's finally gonna beat the super hard level!

...and then Ozzie ran by and got his paw stuck on the wire causing it the unplug itself from the wall, turning off the game.

Sonic just sat there.

Staring at the now pitch black TV screen.

He was so close.

SO. CLOSE.

To beating the level.

All that progress. All of it was gone. He lost the game.

AND SONIC WAS PISSED.

He let out a yell and threw the controller at the TV, almost cracking the screen. Tom heard all the commotion and ran into the room to see what was going on.

There was sort of a SLIGHTLY heated discussion about throwing the controller at the TV from frustration. Obviously, Sonic was too angry to even give a crap and he really should have. (Mainly because Tom had a rough day at work and an alien hedgehog son breaking the family TV is the last thing he needed.)

I thought the funniest way to end off the argument was Sonic talking back at Tom like: "So not throwing objects is a rule now, is it SHERIFF? What are gonna do, arrest me??"

With that attitude not helping one bit, there's one thing left to do. "Okay, you know what? You are grounded, young man!"

"WHAT?! You can't- ...You can't ground me." Sonic's tone went from shock and anger to worry and maybe some heartbreak in his eyes??

"Too late, pal. No video games for a whole week. Hopefully til then you'll learn your lesson."

Sonic would try to protest against this but all he can do is stutter, trying to think of a comeback. Eventually he just ran up to his room.

Which was something Tom didn't expect.

Tom was aware that he was a little bit too hard on him so he decided to check up on him a little while later. Sonic was already in bed at the time he went up to his room to try and talk to him.

There was something he did notice however.

There were dried up tears on Sonic's cheeks before he went to sleep.

HA HA YOU THINK THIS IS SUPPOSED TO BE FUNNY?? WELL THINK AGAIN!

The next morning Tom and Maddie decided they should have a little chat with Sonic during breakfast. About his behavior obviously but also the way he reacted he was declared grounded.

Sonic tried to change the subject but he knew he can't turn away from this now. He mentioned how Tom and Maddie must've hated him now since he's grounded.

Tom and Maddie, absolutely shocked from what he said, comforted him and told him that just because he's grounded doesn't mean he's no longer loved. Even if he broke the TV, or gets angry with them, they'll always love him. (See it got better don't worry)

Everything was alright after the family's little moment but it was quickly ruined when Sonic requested to be off the hook. Of course, it didn't work, but at least they all got a laugh from that.

And at this point, being grounded is not even considered a punishment for Sonic since he is a bit of a troublemaker, but the origin of his first time being grounded would be interesting to talk about.

[anonymousfiction211]

Handcuffed together

Summary: Loki and you hate each other, but are both part of the Avengers. They are fed up with you two fighitng all the time and hancuff you together, so you can learn to tolerate each other.  Word count: 3.132 words Warnings: Smut, dubious consent (it is consentual, but not specificly said), angry Loki, degrading  A/N: Based on a idea from @the-best-phineas. Hope you like it! If anyone has an idea, or suggestion just let me know :)

Click here for chapter 2 Click here for chapter 3

With a loud click the handcuff around your wrist closed. You immediately tried to unlock the cuff, but it wouldn’t give. “Like that would work” Loki commented. You gave him a glare but turned your attention back to Tony. “Seriously, this is not necessary. Give us another chance” you begged him. “Look, we are all sick of the two of you constant fighting, it is effecting the team and the missions we’re on. And all that magic-crap makes everything worse. So, until the two of you can tolerate each other you’re cuffed together. And you’re both not allowed on missions before you finish this one” You sighed heavily but knew that arguing more was futile.

“I must say, you’re taking this better than I thought you would” Tony said to Loki. “Escaping handcuffs isn’t that difficult, Stark” Loki replied. Tony secured the cuff on Loki’s wrist. He then walked hastily to the door. “Oh, one more thing. These handcuffs are designed so you can’t use your powers” Tony said and quickly exit the room. Loki immediately tried to escape his cuff with magic, but nothing was happening. You tried as well, but got the same result, nothing. You met his eyes, which were full of anger. “I thought escaping from handcuffs wasn’t that difficult” you said sarcastically. Loki didn’t break eye contact. The anger was radiating off him, you swore you could physically feel it. He didn’t say anything but turned around and walked away. When you didn’t move he yanked at his side of the cuffs and you were forced to take a few steps in his direction. “What the… LOKI..” you started angrily, but he didn’t react. He kept walking while ignoring you. Right now, you had no other choice than to follow him, trying to keep up.

He pushed his bedroom door open with so much force, you thought it would break. He walked towards his bookcase and was taking out different books, flipping through them. You had enough and yanked at the handcuffs, making the book in his hand fall on the ground. “STOP. WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING” you yelled at him. He gave you his angriest look, the one he said he reserved specially for you, because he never met anyone who was as stupid and annoying as you were. And that included his oaf of a brother. “I am finding a way to free myself from you” he spat. “So, just stand there and try not to get in the way” he turned his attention back to the bookcase. “You can’t just walk away and drag me along” you grumbled. “Apparently I can” he said with a sly small on his face. You yanked at the cuffs again, making Loki drop his book again. He turned to face you, grabbed your throat with the cuffed hand and pushed you hard against the wall behind you. Your scream was cut off by his other hand covering your mouth. He wasn’t chocking you, but the tightness off his grip wasn’t comfortable enough for you to relax. Your whole body felt like it was on fire, which was weird. It shouldn’t.

He pulled his hand away from your mouth after standing there for what felt like eternity. “Look, I’m much stronger than you are. So, I’m going to find a way to free myself. The only thing you have to do is staying out of my way” he growled. He let go of your throat, but still stood extremely close to you. “Yeah, this whole act doesn’t scare me” your voice hoarser than you would have liked. Loki chuckled “Look, when you had your powers you had some sort of defense, even tough it was weak. Without your powers.. you don’t stand a chance against me” You slapped him hard across his face. His face turned sideways, but his cheek didn’t show any red mark. He slowly turned his head to face you, giving you a wicked smile that sends chills trough your body. He didn’t say anything, just stared at you. But both of you knew, you had just proofed his point.

The rest of the morning you two sat on his bed. Loki was busy reading different books and he sometimes grumbled in annoyance. You were playing a game on your phone, trying to ignore him. Loki snaped his book shut and threw it across the room. You looked up from your phone “I assume the search is not going well then?” you couldn’t help but chuckle a bit at his frustration. “Just shut up, it’s not like you are any useful” he replied. He sighed and laid down on his bed. His put his cuffed hand on his chest, which meant that your hand also touched his chest. When he felt your hand, he puts his hand down beside him, pretending it didn’t happen. “We could pretend to like each other for this afternoon, and we surely will be free before dinner” you said. Loki didn’t reply. He sighed heavily “Fine” he muttered. He got up from the bed, which mean that you had to crawl to his side to get up as well. When it took to long he grabbed your arm and pulled you to your feet in front of him. Not anticipating this move, you stumbled and fell into his chest. His free hand immediately grabbed you by your hip to steady you. A weird feeling was spreading from your hip through your body, you couldn’t quite place it. When he dropped his hand you still felt his touch. “Shall we?” he said. You nodded and followed him towards the living room. But there was no one there. Loki walked towards the kitchen, with you close behind him. There was a note on the kitchen table.

Loki and (Y/N), The team had to leave for a mission. We will be back in two days. Don’t kill each other. - Natasha

Loki crumbled up the piece of paper and threw it through the kitchen. “Great, just great. Two day stuck with you” he said angrily. “Lucky me, two days in the presence of a god” you replied with as much sarcasm as you could. Loki gave you an angry glare, which you ignored. He stormed out of the kitchen, yet again dragging you along. After a few steps you yanked at the cuffs and halted in your track. “Look, we both want nothing more than the be free of each other. But we’re at least stuck with each other for two day, so how about some rules?” you started. Loki didn’t say anything but nodded.

“First, discussing where we are going, no more dragging me along and doing whatever you want” you started.

“No talking unless absolutely necessary” Loki replied.

“No more threats, or throat grabbing”

“No more punching”

“How about no touching of any form?” you said.

“Fine by me. Also, no more singing. You are really bad at it”

“No more insulting me!!” you half yelled

“Don’t make insulting you so easy then!”

There was a long silence. “We sleep in my room” Loki said. “IF you behave this day, I MIGHT consider letting you sleep in the bed” you rolled your eyes at that comment. “I accept that we sleep in your room, but only IF I sleep in the bed too. Otherwise, we sleep in my room” you said. He smirked “If you weren’t so insufferable I might even enjoy this little negotiation” You couldn’t help but smile at his comment “same for me” you replied.

The rest of the afternoon went by rather peacefully. Loki was reading books and you were watching a series on tv. There was one awkward moment when you had to use the toilet, but you had to admit that Loki did his best to give you all the privacy you needed. So, you did the same when he had to go. Your stomach started to rumble, you were getting hungry. “Shall we order food?” you asked Loki. After a very long discussion you both finally agreed on Chinese food. In hindsight it wasn’t the best idea to eat Chinese food when you only have one hand. During dinner, your hands sometimes touched each other, by accident. But every time you felt his hand against yours spark like electricity shot through your body. You suddenly forgot how to breathe and didn’t know where this was coming from. You were hoping Loki didn’t notice and try to ignore the feeling.

After dinner things basically stayed the same. You put on a movie and halfway through Loki decided to watch it too. But none of you said a word to each other. After the movie you were getting tired. “Can we go to bed?” you asked. Loki nodded and the two of you walked to his bedroom. That was when things got a little awkward. You both turned your back towards each other when the other undressed. Loki had pulled down his pants and his shirt, which was now hanging on the chain of the cuffs. You were currently undressing yourself, getting rid of your own pants and pulling your T-shirt over your head, hanging it next to Loki’s on the chain. You currently were in a bra and thong, mentally slapping yourself for not thinking this through this morning. Worst off all was that it was in dark green, which was a colour you wore often before Loki joined the team. When Loki turned around you saw his eyes roam your body, suddenly you felt extremely exposed. You noticed that Loki was more muscular than you thought, if he were any other man on the planet you would have thought his body was attractive. You cleared your throat, snapping Loki’s eyes to meet yours. If you didn’t know any better you thought you saw a slight blush on his cheeks.

He walked towards his doors and turned down the light. His room was completely dark, and you couldn’t see a thing anymore. You heard Loki walk and felt your hand pulled towards his direction. You were hesitant to move, not wanting to trip or bump into something. “Why are you not moving?” Loki asked annoyed. “I- I can’t see a thing” you replied. Loki walked closer to you, his free arm grabbed your shoulder, and he took your cuffed hand with his. You flinched from the sudden touch, not expecting it. “Relax, I’m not going to hurt you” he said. “I know, you just startled me” you replied. He guided you towards his bed and let you get in first. “Thanks” you whispered. “Just go to sleep” he replied. But sleep did not come easily. It was difficult to find a comfortable position, because of the handcuffs. But somehow you managed.

The light shining through the curtains woke you up. Loki was still fast asleep, he looked peaceful. He was laying on his side, facing you with his free hand underneath his head. His cuffed hand was on top of yours. You slowly moved your hand from underneath his. His eyes snapped open, and he looked at you. You were both silent. He cleared his throat “Breakfast?” he asked, you nodded. You both decided it was a good idea to make pancakes. However, cooking with handcuffs on was more difficult than anticipated. Especially since Loki wasn’t much of a cook. You got frustrated and told him to just get out of your way. You finally had the batter how you wanted and picked up the bowl to bring it near the stove. Loki, wanting to get out of your way, choose the wrong direction making the two of you bump into each other. You lost your grip on the bowl and it fell on the ground.

“Seriously?!” you asked angrily. “It’s not my fault you don’t watch where you’re going” Loki replied equally angry. “Why are you incapable of just admitting you’re not perfect and say sorry?”

“Why do you always look to me when someone has to take blame for your actions?” he spat back.

“You are the most insufferable person I’ve ever met!”

“God” Loki corrected.

“What?”

“I’m not a person, I’m a God!”

“Some God you are, you can’t free yourself, you can’t even make your own pancakes” you replied sarcastically.

“I suggest you chose your next words very carefully” he warned you.

You being you, decided to ignore the warning. “You might think yourself a God, but you are the only one who does” you said, knowing it would get some sort of reaction out of him. Loki used to cuffs to spin you around, your back against his chest. His cuffed arm was around your throat and his free hand around your stomach, holding you in place. “If you don’t shut up know, I make you” he whispered in your ear with a dangerous tone in his voice. Your whole body felt on fire, yet again. Before you knew that you did it, you pressed your ass against his groin. “Oh, you like this don’t you?” he purred in your ear. “Shut up and let me go” you said, trying to squirm out his grip. “No, you want this” he said.

“I don’t” you replied.

“That’s a lie”

“Like you would know. You may have the title God of Lies, but like we established... you’re no God” you laughed.

“I don’t need to be the God of Lies to know. You heart rate is up, your pupils yesterday dilated when you saw me shirtless, and your voice is higher. And the best thing is, your needy body betrays you” he laughed back.

You had enough. You kicked the back of your foot against his shin, but Loki didn’t even flinch. “Bad choice, kitten” he said. Without warning his teeth sunk into your neck. Instead of making your scream it made you moan louder than you would have liked. His hand on your stomach travelled downwards, going straight for your core. He cupped your heat with his hand and one of his fingers strokes between your folds. Revealing that you indeed were turned on, and already extremely wet. “Hmm.. such a needy slut you are” he hummed. You wanted to protest, you should protest, but alle words had escaped you. Your breathe was ragged and you knew you what was going to happen.

Loki spun you around, pushing your upper body on the kitchen counter. He held his cuffed hand in your hair, forcing your hand behind your back and your head down. You tried to squirm away, but Loki wouldn’t budge. “We both know you can’t escape and we both know you don’t want to. So now I’m going to fuck you, maybe you think twice next time you talk to me like that” he growled. His free hand hovered over the buttons of your pants and in one smooth motion he opened them. He pulled your pants down, caressing your butt. Goosebumps were starting to form, and you felt yourself grow wetter from his touch. Loki had freed his erection through his zipper, still wearing his pants. He stroked his shaft up and down your slid. Slightly dipping through your folds, coating himself in your wetness.

Without warning he thrusted inside of you, making you cry out in pleasure. He started thrusting in and almost out of you in a very quick pace. His cock filled you up completely, even reaching your g-spot when he was fully inside of you. You started to rock your hips, meeting his pace. “That’s it, good girl” he praised you. It made you blush and clench your walls around his cock. He left darkly at your reaction. You felt your orgasm starting to build up inside of you. Loki’s animalistic way of fucking you was becoming too much. Right before you reached your high you moaned out loud “Oh my God” Loki stilted deep inside of you. “What did you say, darling?” he mused. “I- .. just keep going” you replied, hoping he would let you come undone. He leaned his upper body over yours, his lips right by your ear. “Just repeat it, if you want to come of course” he purred. You didn’t respond and thought about giving up your climax. Loki slowly moved pulled out and back inside of you. He knew you were close and was using that against you at the moment. “What’s wrong, kitten? Usually you’re so talkative” he chuckled. He was keeping his slow pace, keeping you on the edge but not pushing you over it.

You groaned in frustration. “Fine, I said oh my God” you said annoyed. Loki picked his pace up slightly, but nowhere near how fast you needed him. “So, you do admit that I’m a God?” even tough you couldn’t see his face, you just knew he had his signature smirk on his face. “Yes” you said to gritted teeth. Loki just laughed “Now, was that so difficult?” before you could answer he was thrusting at a fast pace. To your surprise Loki himself was starting to moan slightly, muttering things under his breath about how tight you were and how good you feel around his cock. It didn’t take long before you reached your climax. When you reached your high you couldn’t help but cry out “Oh my God Loki” adding fuel to his thrusts. He came right after you.

He collapsed on top of you, leaving feather light kisses on your neck. He pulled out of you and handed you a kitchen towel to clean yourself up. You pulled up your underwear and pants, not being able to look Loki in his eyes. You grabbed another bowl and started on a new pancake batter. Loki stood right behind you, hands on either side of you. He was nuzzling his head in the crook of your neck. “If I knew this would shut you up, I would’ve done it much sooner” he mused. “That was a one-time thing, don’t get any ideas. I still hate you” you replied. “Oh no, new rule. Every time you anger me, I’m going to fuck you like the slut you are” You knew it shouldn’t, but you felt yourself get excited again. “It’s only for a day and a half, so I just won’t make you angry” you replied dryly. Loki laughed “Kitten, even if we’re free from these cuffs I am still going to fuck you. You laid with a God and now you’re mine” You scoffed “That’s not how it works” Loki pulled you closer against his chest and cupped your breast with his free hand. He chuckled when you gasped and closed your eyes. “It is. By the time, the team is back, you will worship me like you should”

Click here for chapter 2

[classic80sand90smovieloves2]

Meeting and Dating Casper McFadden

(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous)

- Moving into a new home was never easy. Oftentimes, it meant packing up everything you owned, leaving a bunch of good memories behind, and traveling across the country to a new town where you’d have to make all new friends and renovate old fixtures.

- But there was something about your new house that made it both easier and harder to live in: the fact that it was haunted.

- Obviously your family didn’t find out about the ghosts until after they’d signed the papers and even if they were warned about it, they probably wouldn’t have believed the realtor, but none of that mattered now. Now you were stuck in a old house with a bunch of spirits, stuck until your parents save up enough money to move again.

- So what made the manor easier to live in, you may ask. Well, the fact that it came with a friend….

- You and Casper meet the day you move into the Whipstaff Manor. You’re wandering around, exploring the home and trying to figure out which room you want to live in, unaware that there’s a specter following you.

- The minute Casper sees you, he’s head over tail. You make his undead little heart race and have him second guessing his every action. Which is the main reason it makes him a while to formally introduce himself, he’s too scared that he’ll ruin his first impression.

- Sadly for him, his first impression still doesn’t go over well, regardless of how much he practiced.

- In his defense, it wasn’t anything that he did, it was more the fact that you were suddenly face to face with a phantom. Anyone would have freaked out in response to that, and they would have freaked out to any ghost as well; no matter how friendly.

- So, like the rational young woman that you are, you scream and take off like a rocket, dashing out of the room and down the hall to find a more secure and safe looking room to hide in until your parents get back from the store.

- He follows behind, attempting to calm you down and feeling downright awful for scaring you. Once you’ve locked yourself away into a broom closet, he gives you a minute to breathe before he calls out to you, telling you that he’s sorry and trying to coax you out so that you can talk.

- It takes you another minute to be convinced and to trust him when he says he isn’t gonna hurt you, but eventually, you do brace yourself and open the door.

- Once you do, you find that he really isn’t as scary as you’d originally though he was. In fact, he was actually sort of cute; in a cartoony sort of way, and he’s friendly to boot; so you wind up feeling a bit silly for being so frightened of him. And after you begin to think like that, the two of you begin to develop a close friendship.

- While his uncles might be incredibly obnoxious and annoying, you can’t deny that you enjoy having the ghostly presences in your home; especially when school roles around and you find yourself feeling like an alien with no one to turn to. You might not have any living friends in your town but you at least have a few see through ones at home that ensure you’re not completely alone.

- But, compared to your primarily platonic feelings, Caspers feelings for you were a lot more complicated. He valued your friendship and enjoyed having you as a pal, but he also had more romantic feelings towards you. In simpler terms: he’d had a massive crush on you from the moment you walked in.

- And though he’d have loved to confess his feelings and see if you felt the same, he knew that it was practically impossible for the two of you to be together; at least until you’d died …or until he was alive again!

- The minute he remembers the Lazurus he immediately erupts into a fit of excitement and joy. If you could get it to work, he could be alive again and the two of you could be together for the rest of your lives, either as friends or as something more, he honestly didn’t care which; though he hoped it was the second one.

- So he tells you about the invention and the two of you get to work. You take the wild trip down to his fathers lab, search around until you find what you’re looking for, load the contraption up with it’s necessary elixir, and pull the levers with bated breath.

- You don’t know what you’d expected to walk out of the machine but it certainly wasn’t this. Perfectly done blond hair, shining blue eyes, and a face that made you suddenly flustered to be in your best friends presence. He looked like a Disney prince and you were captivated.

“How do I look?” He asked nervously.

“Perfect,” you responded a little too quickly. “I mean, human, normal …living.”

- His face broke out into a smile and he threw his arms around you, pulling you into a tight hug. The action caught you off guard and made your heart race but you didn’t mind in the slightest.

- Once you’d finished hugging, he pulled away slowly and you found yourselves locking eyes. His gaze flickered to your lips and before you knew it, the two of you were leaning forward and sharing a kiss.

- His uncles may or may not have interrupted you but the “damage” was already done. You were just as hooked on him as he was on you and neither of you could be happier.

- Casper loves pda. He loves being able to actually touch you and be out in public and show the whole town that the two of you are together; even though half of them are confused as to who he is. 

- He touches you and holds you close whenever he can. He’s waited to do it since the moment he met you and now that you’re together; and he isn’t ice cold and only semi-solid, he enjoys every little ounce of affection he can provide and obtain.

- Handholding.

- Cheek kisses. 

- Long, soft kisses. They’re sort of a contrast to his usual hyper behavior, which is why, if you ever need him to calm him down and focus, all you have to do is ask for a kiss or make it obvious that that’s what you’re going to do. He skids to a stop and happily complies as he gives you an adorable little smile.

- Pet names aren’t really his thing but he does call you by fun nicknames that he’s come up with; usually a shorter or longer version of your name.

- Cuddling is a must with Casper. He absolutely loves it, no matter how the two of you do it. Sometimes you’ll lay on his chest, other times you’ll spoon, and other times you’ll face each other on the bed and talk until one of you dozes off.

- Speaking of: he definitely watches you sleep every now and again, which sounds far more creepy than it actually is. Like, you’ll be talking late at night and you’ll fall asleep and he’ll just look at your peaceful face for a while.

- If we’re going with the assumption that Casper maintains some of the aspects of being a ghost, I think it’s safe to say that he’s occasionally at least a little cooler than a normal human, which makes him the perfect companion for hot days.

- Being carried and flown around.

- Sometimes; especially prior to him being in the Lazurus, he forgets that you’re not a ghost and gets you into some uncomfortable situations. And after he turns human again, he definitely has to get used to not being able to go through walls and have things go through him when they’re thrown or fall.

- Testing out exactly what he’s still capable of doing and if there’s any limits to his new life. Is he perfectly normal? Does he have ghostly powers? Do the effects occasionally wear off during certain times or seasons? It’s all stuff you have to figure out.

- For a while after he’s brought back to life, he spends all day experiencing everything he missed when he was still alive. All the smells, sights, and touches; he runs around like Jack Skellington while you sit back and watch with a smile.

- Going to the mall. It’s one of his favorite places to visit, he just loves the entire atmosphere of the place; especially since he wasn’t really able to go and enjoy everything about it before he turned human again.

- Tv dates.

- Playing different games with each other. Board games, pirates, video games, you name it, he’ll do it.

- Sitting on top of the lighthouse with him.

- Enjoying the view from outside of the manor. You have the perfect view of the ocean from your garden so the two of you can always throw a blanket down and stare out at the sea together.

- Just goofing off with each other. Running around the house together, sliding down the stairwell, having him push you in a chair down the halls, etc. You’ve got a huge house to mess around in, why not take advantage of it?

- Dancing together. He told you he was a good dancer.

- Late night conversations. You can always talk to him about anything you want or need to.

- Catching him watching you a lot. He always has such a loving gaze when he’s looking at you, just seeing his face when he’s watching you do something or speak is reassurance that he really cares about you.

- Always having a warm and excited greeting when you return home from school. He also probably occasionally goes with you or at least walks you there or visits during lunch.

- He loves making surprises for you. Throwing you little parties or coming up with different ways to make you smile or cheer you up after school or whenever he can see that you’re feeling down is one of his favorite hobbies.

- He wants to be with you like 25/7 so don’t be surprised if he’s constantly bothering you with his presence. It’s a good thing you love him because if you didn’t he’d become very annoying, very quickly.

- Him just appearing at random is commonplace so your parents and you definitely have to take some time to get used to it. I mean he lives in your house and now that he’s human again, it’s definitely a bit easier than when he was a ghost, but still.

- Getting chairs pulled out and doors opened for you. He likes being a gentleman.

- Him cooking for you. He definitely tries to impress you with his skills and all the inventions he uses; and he just likes doing something nice like that for you.

- Discovering all his dads inventions and letting him tell you about them. It’s really quite fascinating to see how they all work and how excited he gets while showing you how to use them.

- I have a feeling that he doesn’t like winter; for obvious reasons, and whenever it comes around, all he wants to do is stay inside with you and do indoor activities. If you were to want to go out, it’d take you a while to persuade him and even if you did; or were only going out by yourself, he’d spend forever bundling you up and making up a bunch of rules to keep you safe.

- Probably dealing with his ghostly self every now and again. I have a feeling that the Lazurus machines effects occasionally wear off for a little while from time to time so while he’s alive most of the time, you do have moments of spooky transparency as well.

- Pranking each other and other people. He might be a sweetheart but he also has a bit of a mischievous streak.

- Him always wanting to show you whatever cool thing he sees, does, finds, or hears about. Just being able to share things with you makes him happy.

- Listening to his stories from when he was alive or the decades he wasn’t.

- Fixing up his room for him and hanging out up there with all his toys.

- Being gifted some of his mothers things. Dresses, jewelry, stuff like that.

- His uncles bothering the two of you. They’re constantly harassing and teasing you; just try to pay them no mind.

- Standing up for him when his uncles are being more awful than usual.

- He might be the only person you can really bond with in your town, considering the fact that whenever you have anybody over, they’re almost always harassed by his uncles and scared away. Which Casper may or may not be sort of happy about.

- Casper gets jealous pretty easily. Anytime another guy takes interest in you, he always feels the need to mock them behind their backs or be passive aggressively not so friendly whenever they approach you when you’re out with him. It’s best to not bring up guys in your class unless it’s obvious that they only like you as a friend; but even then he’d wonder why you need friends (even if they’re girls) other than him.

- He’s sort of overprotective of you. He just got his life back so he certainly doesn’t want anything bad happening and putting yours in danger.

- He absolutely hates fighting so whenever the two of you have an argument, he’s always quick to try and settle it and apologize; even if he doesn’t really think he’s done anything wrong.

- Saying “I love you” isn’t really his forte. He prefers saying and doing other things to show you that he does.

- The two of you sort of just have to go with the flow and see where your relationship takes you. You don’t know how exactly the rest of his “life” will go so you just try to enjoy the present and what you have right now.

[strayen-fx]

Red.

》 HHJ x reader

》 angst, vampirish theme

》 warnings: mentions of blood, hints of physical assault

》 2.1k words

》 a/n: short and simple, after months of writing break. Hope you guys enjoy regardless :)

“Stay away from them, my dear. Save your blood from the horrors of their fangs. Be wary of solitude, and be wary of the crowd.”

It was a day not unlike any other. My morning kicked off lazily, with me waking up almost an hour later than a college freshman was supposed to. Nothing unusual there. I did my usual morning prep, took a cup of grandma’s tea in one gulp, and went my way. I was already late for the train—I had to run after a departing bus with an exceptional speed that would put Olympiads to shame. I got in the room just in time as the bell rang for first period. I came in huffing like an old man, but it’s alright. Way better than walking through the early jam-packed hallways.

The first aberration in my daily humdrum existence happened on my way to fourth period. A student from another department stopped me on my tracks. I knew him; he was a member of the student council. Was I in some sort of trouble?

He introduced himself as Han Jisung, then proceeded to ask if I have seen his friend.

“He’s tall,” Jisung explained. “But like, not super tall. Not the towering-over-people kind. He has a mole under his eye. He’s got black—no wait, I think he dyed his hair again the other day. Anyway, have you seen someone like him? He’s noticeably handsome. I guess. I’m more handsome, though, but you know what I mean.”

The whole school would know who he is talking about. The one and only Hwang Hyunjin: champion swimmer, council member, and just a general talk of the town. The Prince. Even if I did see him around, though, I wouldn’t know. I never pay attention to the people I walk by.

I shook my head and muttered a soft sorry. I did feel bad for Jisung. He looked so worried and dejected, and I can’t blame him—not after after the incident with Seungmin. I can’t really take it against him to worry about his friends. I sauntered off to my next class, my mind still stuck on the fact that a normal person in my school has actually talked to me, and I was able to keep my composure.

Fifth period: P.E. I don’t even know why we still have this subject in college. I opted to take a stroll instead. You see, a huge, dense forest is situated right behind the main school grounds. You could say that the school itself lies within the bosom of greeneries. Unkempt bushes and rows of towering trees stretched over several miles deep, starting from the edge of the campus to god-knows-where. It is my goal to scout the whole area before graduation.

Weighed down by my personal monstrous beast, I trudged through. I walked for at least fifteen minutes before I finally reached the spot—my spot. Sheet of decaying leaves cushioned a huge gray boulder, standing at least ten feet tall, shaped like an odd piece of egg smashed against the forest floor. Against it stood a larger stone, this one dotted with moss and weathered with cracks. They were propped against each other for support, as if stopping one another from tumbling to the ground.

There was a smaller rock at the foot of the smaller stone, and I use it as leverage to climb up and sit on top of the largest boulder. It was my favorite place. Most times I could just pretend that I was alone in my own tiny bubble, at the center of that clearing that nobody else ventures but me. I don’t feel the breath of people suffocating me with every step that I take. I don’t feel my heart thumping with the sight of anyone else. I don’t need to hold back. Here, I don’t feel weird.

But today felt somehow different.

It was awfully silent. The wind felt sharper and colder. Electricity was humming in the air, leaving my skin prickling with discomfort. There was a tension in my veins that I couldn’t quite explain—it felt like an omen of an incoming disaster.

Time ticked slow. A couple hours could have passed—or maybe it has only been five minutes—when a nearby rustling perked up my senses.

Trying to keep my movements as quiet as possible, I hopped down and took up a defensive position, which wasn’t easy to do for a student with no actual weapon aside from an almost-empty bag and a worn-out calligraphy pen. My instincts told me to take cover—but my feet seemed glued to the ground. Sweat trickled from my forehead. My hands started to feel clammy.

And then, just as I was about to scamper away, a figure crashed into view from behind the nearest oak tree. I almost threw my bag towards the person’s direction, until I had a clear view of the intruder’s face.

It was Hwang Hyunjin, wide-eyed and disoriented, with his cheeks and uniform smudged with traces of blood.

“Help me.”

His voice came out as a tiny croak, as if his throat was filled with acid. He stumbled towards me, reaching out his hand for support. I wasn’t able to move an inch—and who could blame me? The situation was way too hard to process.

Hwang Hyunjin, the university prince, was hunched huffing before me, his clothes caked with mud and dried blood, his hair a nest of mess on his head. He had a cut on his cheek, I noticed. His breathing was heavy and labored, as if the mere act of standing on his own two feet required all the effort he could muster.

“Help me,” he repeated.

“What happened to you?” I managed to blurt out. My initial thought was that some random outsiders kicked his butt for stealing their girlfriends. But no—someone like Hyunjin would have been able to handle that. Plus, something in his eyes showed an elaborate fear—something only a beast would be capable of instilling. I should know.

My heart began thumping faster, a colossal drum barreling in my chest.

Just as my schoolmate was about to open his mouth and explain, a loud rustling broke the stillness of the air. Before I could process what was happening, Hyunjin grabbed my hand and bolted away, dragging me with him.

“Don’t look back!” he warned.

I did.

At least a dozen feet behind us was another male, probably as old as Hyunjin. He was sporting our school uniform, walking casually under the shades of trees as if time wasn’t of any matter. What puzzled me, though, was the fact that we can’t seem to distance ourselves from him despite the heavy efforts Hyunjin had been exerting to drag us both away from this newcomer.

I took another glance behind me, and to my surprise, the young man wasn’t there anymore. Nowhere behind us, as if he dissipated without a single trace.

Hyunjin took a sudden stop, causing me to bump my head against his back. I was about to call him out for stopping, but then I saw the looming figure a few meters in front of us.

“You…?” I began, my mind a juggle of unanswered questions. How on earth did that happen? How is he—

Hyunjin's friend, Kim Seungmin, stood before us in his dirty school uniform. He looked pale, his eyes bloodshot, but he was standing there in full grace, very much alive, giving us a toothy grin. “You’re hurting my feelings, Hyun. Why are you running away from me?”

Hyunjin’s grip on my hand went tighter. “Seungmin...”

“Friends are supposed to help each other, am I right?” Seungmin continued, faux dismay dripping in his voice. He bared his fangs, its tips dripping with fresh blood. “So help me, Hyunjin.”

I felt my body run cold. I wanted to scream, run, anything—anything to get away from this. From him. From the two of them. From everything. But Hyunjin's hand remained strong around my wrist, and my legs were close to turning jelly. I could start to feel the fullness in my mouth, the pointy ends of my incisors. Something that only happens when I'm in an extreme hunger or danger.

“Stay away from them,” grandma said. “We are the same kind, but we are different. Weaker. They see us as preys, as special commodities. They can smell your blood despite my concoctions, my dear, remember this!”

Seungmin tilted his head to one side, finally regarding my presence. “And you, over there. I’ve never tried drinking such special blood.” He grinned. “Satiate my thirst.”

The last thing I knew, a strong hand was pressing tightly around my neck, turning my vision green.

°°°°°°°°°°°°°

“Have you heard of the news?”

“What news?”

“Kim Seungmin was safe! They found him in the forest yesterday.”

“Thank goodness! Was he hurt?”

“He had a few gashes, but he’s fine. Hyunjin found him and brought him to the hospital right away.”

Students filled the corridor, everyone bustling and hustling about the news: after his sudden disappearance, Seungmin was finally found by his best friend, Hyunjin. The latter saw him in the forest, hungry and disoriented. They went straight to the hospital to treat his minor wounds, and that was that—nobody bothered to ask how he managed to lose himself in the wilderness, or how we managed to survive seven days on his own. Nobody asked him stupid and unnecessary questions. Seungmin was safe, and that was all that mattered.

I brushed my way past the milling crowd, flinching at every accidental touch. I kept my eyes on the ground, forcing my mind into silence. I was expecting everyone to be in their respective classrooms at this time of the day, but apparently, the news of Seungmin’s return has become enough reason for everyone to wander about and neglect their individual duties. It was a grand miscalculation on my part—I hadn’t braced myself for this huge number of people.

Not here. Not now. Not ever.

I just have to get back home, and then it’ll be over. My insides would stop churning once I’ve drunk grandma’s tea—that has worked for 18 years now. I can stop this. I can stop me.

I made a run towards the comfort room. To my luck, nobody was inside. I washed my face over and over, as if doing so would cleanse me from the impurity stamped on every drop of my blood. The face on the mirror horrified me—I had to stop myself from punching the glass over and over.

The moment I stepped out, I felt his presence.

He was there, leaning against the wall, lurking behind the shadows. There was a faint gleam of terror in his eyes, but at the same time, I can feel it: the hunger. Lust for meat. Thirst for blood.

“Don’t be like him, Hyunjin,” I pleaded. “Don’t be like us.”

He shook his head in resignation. “It’s too late.”

He took a step closer. Another. He kept on walking until he stood right in front of me, too close I can feel him breathe.

Too close I can see the faint traces of blood on his lips.

“I’m still hungry,” he sobbed. “I’m still hungry…”

Fear was apparent in his eyes—fear of what would happen to him, fear of what he had become. “You will be fine,” I offered, taking his hand in mine. “Trust me on this. It will be fine.”

And then I felt it, stronger this time—the hunger he was talking about. The thirst. My stomach growled in protest at the sight of Hyunjin’s pale flesh. I can smell his blood—I can feel its steady rhythm as it flowed through his pulsing veins.

I need to get home. Maybe my grandma could do something about Hyunjin, too. Maybe she could produce a stronger tea, and both of us wouldn’t have to worry about our instincts anymore.

We stood next to each other for a full minute before he broke the silence.

“We need each other to survive,” Hyunjin whispered. “If we drink the blood of our own kind, we can last for a month without feeding on others.” He freed his hand from my hold and gripped my shoulders tightly. “I need you. And you need me, too.”Hyunjin leaned down until we were staring at each other at eye level. He closed the distance between us. I closed my eyes, and for the first time, I allowed my monster to take ove.

[platoniclokiimagines]

Could you write headcanons about the reader comforting Loki after they have a nightmare?

A/N: I apologize for disappearing lately. I’ve been having the worst fortnight in the history of all time, so writing hasn’t been a priority while I’ve been depressed, grieving the loss of my dog, and so, so much more, but hopefully I’ll be in a better headspace from now on, or at least for a little while. Anyway, enjoy some angsty hurt/comfort~

WC: 1347

Rating: G

TW: Deals with nightmares, but nothing graphic or anything of the sort.

You blinked yourself awake abruptly, somehow aware that something felt very off.

Slowly, you sat up in bed, rubbing the last of your sleepiness from your eyes as you squinted at the digital time projected on the wall. It read two am, and you almost wanted to laugh. Fun.

Heaving a sigh, knowing you wouldn’t be able to settle back down until you knew everything was alright, you swung your legs over the edge of your bed and slid your feet into your slippers as you gave a yawn and stretched your arms.

“This better not be a false alarm,” you muttered to yourself.

Whatever this… sense was that you’d recently developed was starting to get annoying. The closest you could liken it to was Peter’s spidey-sense, or whatever it was that he was calling it these days, but his seemed to be a bit more reliable. It certainly didn’t wake him up at two in the morning, leaving him with no knowledge of why there were alarm bells going off in your head.

“Must be nice to have it under control.” You continued to grumble to yourself as you threw a sweatshirt on over your clothes and padded over to the door, tucking your hands into the pocket as soon as you’d nudged the door closed behind you.

Since you had no idea where the danger was, you decided to give the main areas of the compound a once-over, tiredly pacing around to the different sparring rooms, living rooms, and other areas the team tended to hang out for one reason or another. You half-expected to stumble across someone unable to sleep and working on some sort of passion project, but you found nothing and no one out of the ordinary. Just the compound wrapped up in a sleepy silence.

That was, until you padded through a library and saw a shape sitting at the window, the dark figure so unexpected that you startled back against the wall with a dull thud.

“Shit, sorry,” you apologized on instinct, forgetting that whoever was sitting there could actually be a threat waiting for the right moment to strike.

The only sound you got in response was an almost inaudible sniffle that made you hesitate.

Well, that at least meant it wasn’t an intruder. Or at least, not one that knew what they were getting into.

With minor hesitation, you pushed yourself to stand up straight, and took a step toward where the figure was still sitting, shadows still casting darkness over them like a thick blanket. You were just about to reach for the lamp to turn it on when you finally heard the person speak, voice quiet and laced with exhaustion.

“Y/N. I apologize, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

You smiled softly in relief, able to recognize that voice anywhere. “Loki. What are you doing out here?” A pause, while you weighed what you wanted to say next. “…is everything alright?”

“Oh, yes. Yes,” they said, but the edge to their voice did little to reassure you. “Just a… dream. Bad dream.”

You nodded slowly, crossing your arms over your chest a little awkwardly. “Did… Would you… like to talk about it?”

Loki said nothing in response, and now that you were close enough, you could see that they were staring out of the window, the pale light of the moon stopping just before it reached the couch they were sitting on.

You nodded again, and took another step closer. “…is it alright if I sit with you for a bit?” You weren’t going to make them talk, but you hoped if you stuck around, they’d be inclined to talk.

In the dark, you could see Loki wave their hand dismissively, so you padded around to the other side of the couch, tucking your feet under yourself as you got situated, pulling your sweatshirt over your knees so that you looked like a ridiculous pile of cloth with a head poking out.

For a long while, neither of you said anything. You didn’t want to push Loki to say anything, and Loki seemed not to feel the need to break the silence either, so the both of you remained silent until eventually, you looked over at them, heaving a silent sigh.

“When I was little, I used to have bad dreams a lot. Never the same ones, but… scary ones. Sometimes I’d be running from monsters, sometimes I’d be drowning in a lake so black I couldn’t tell where the water ended and the shore began. Eventually the monsters and situations in my dreams became people and places that I knew, only… I’d made different choices than I had in reality. I failed to do something, or did something I shouldn’t have, and then… everything would go wrong, and I’d be so terrified because everything bad that was happening… It was my fault. I’d done it.” You took a slow, deep breath; you hadn’t mean to prattle on for so long, but you did have a point. “I guess what I’m saying is that… It happens to all of us, you know? We all dream about… that one thing we wish we’d done differently, or that one person we wish we could have saved. And yes, it’s terrible to dream about, and even worse to wake up and still be thinking about, but Loki… It’s okay. We keep thinking about it because… Well, we’re only human.”

There was a silent stillness in the room for a short moment, and then Loki huffed out a laugh with just the faintest bit of underlying humor. “Well, not all human.”

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head as you smiled a bit. “Yeah, well, not all of us are space aliens that grew up on Asgard, but the sentiment still stands.”

The silence that follow somehow felt thicker, and the tension settled over you like a suffocating plume of smoke.

“…that’s what I dreamt about. Asgard.” Their voice wavered uncharacteristically, and you felt a pang of sorrow in your chest, knowing the guilt that Loki had shouldered with everything that had happened. “Norns, if I had just… done something else, anything else. Maybe things would have been different, maybe… maybe Asgard would still be Asgard and everyone would still be alive.”

“Hey… What happened was not your fault.” Loki huffed out a sound laced with skepticism, but you continued before they could say anything else. “You can’t keep dwelling on what happened. Thinking about what you could have done only makes things worse.”

You could practically feel the scowl Loki was almost certainly sending your direction. “You just said that it’s human to keep thinking about it.”

“I know what I said, but to be honest, I sort of lost my train of thought while I was rambling, but I’m finishing it now. Yes, we dream about it. Yes, we think about it, and wish that we’d done things differently. But we have to move on, eventually. Because if we don’t, then it… tears us apart from the inside out, and the team… they need us. On our best game.” You looked over at Loki, then, sensing that while they understood where you were coming from, they couldn’t quite grasp it. “In the meantime, though… It’s okay to cry about it. To mourn what should have been. That’s human, too.”

You could just make out Loki nodding a bit, and then the next moment, their head was resting on your shoulder, and you could feel them shaking with hardly-contained sobs. It wasn’t often that Loki let their guard down enough to cry in front of anyone, even you, but you always felt honored when they did, and tonight was no different.

So you let them cry and mourn and wish for a different outcome, a different life, a different whatever that would make them feel better, if only for just a few minutes. It was the best you could do. It was everything you could do.

And tonight, that would have to be enough. For the both of you.

[slytherinspired]

Firsts - A Sirius Black Imagine

Pairings : Young Sirius Black x Reader

Warnings : smut, obviously, unprotected sex, swearing, smoking, alcohol and mild drug use.

Hi love! I did it! Beware, it is quite long, I sort of took the liberty to provide some context, but I hope you'll like it! :)

Masterlist

Sirius is looking back at himself in the mirror, wincing at his reflection. He recognizes his traits sparingly; his dark curls falling to his shoulders, his mocking smirk, his overall nonchalant expression. He knows who he is, but the clothes on his back are completely robbing him of his own identity. He glances bitterly at his beloved leather coat sitting on the back of his desk chair and sighs. The ridiculous black suit he’s wearing barely fits him. He knows it probably used to belong to one of his distant cousins and that it has been quickly and grossly recut to fit him by the house-elf. His parents are downstairs in the drawing room, waiting for him to join them so they can leave for this stupid reception. 

He doesn’t even know what it is about, except that he’s going to this apparent important new Ministry guy’s house who threw a sort of lame introduction party, since he just arrived in London with his family. And what he knows is that he’s going to spend the whole night with the type of people he doesn’t want to be assimilated with. From what he heard, the host of the reception just arrived at the Ministry of Magic to help with the passing of some bill for Muggleborn regulations, as awful as it sounds. He’d like to avoid to go, but Walburga has the upper hand on him, and nothing in the world would convince his dear mother to leave her eldest son behind, knowing full well that if she does so, Sirius is going to get the fuck out of there and join these Muggles mingling Potters fools. 

‘You look dapper,’ says a soft voice behind him.

Standing in the doorway, Sirius’ youngest brother observes him, grinning.

‘Shut up,’ he replies, annoyed by the stupid smile on Regulus’ face. 

His brother crosses his arms and steps into his bedroom. He looks around like he just stepped into some kind of freak show. His gaze rests a little longer on a certain poster. Sirius glances at the Muggle woman dressed in a revealing red swimsuit standing straight in the middle of the picture. He smirks, and caught-red handed, Regulus turns away quickly. She always was his brother's favourite, after all. Whether he wants to admit it or not.

‘Are you going to behave this time?’ he asks, stepping in front of his eldest brother.

Sirius shrugs, trying to adjust the bowtie strangling him. For Merlin’s sake, he thinks, it feels like he’s suffocating already. 

‘I always behave, brother dear,’ he replies, trying to undo the knot around his neck. ‘I just don’t behave the way they’d like me to,' referring to their parents.

Regulus shakes his head and starts fiddling with his brother’s bowtie and adjust it perfectly in one fell swoop, as if it were child’s play. Once the knot is properly buckled, he taps Sirius’ chest in an encouraging gesture, and frowns when he feels something hard hidden in the inside pocket of his brother’s vest. 

‘Really?’ he asks. 

Sirius snorts.

‘Just a bit of courage,’ he admits.

‘And how much courage did you drink already?’ 

‘Not enough, apparently,’ Sirius replies, thinking about the full flask of warm whiskey tucked inside his suit. 

He’d honestly rather be stuck in detention with Snivellus for the rest of his existence then go to this lame-ass party. That alone justifies the whiskey amply.

After a few detours in the city, he finds himself in front of an imposing white manor situated in one of London’s richest Square. Oh, this is going to be a long night, he thinks. Not only it seems like the host is wizard-rich, but he’s also everything rich, period. He rolls his eyes, there’s no issue. Walburga is pressing her long and emaciated fingers into his son’s arm as they step into the great hall of the house. The interior is as posh as the exterior, with its grand marble staircase curving up to the upper floor and its giant diamond-like chandelier hanging over their heads. For God’s sake, is it a live classical assemble he hears playing in the back? As his mother pushes him further inside, the sound of light chatter reaches his ears. He sees his father, dressed in his horrible robes, already on his way to speak with some old acquaintances, quickly followed by Regulus. He scans the principal room for a quiet corner, but it’s filled with this bunch of pricks, and he’s fighting with all his might the panic that is taking over his mind. He finally spots a free corner next to a big window and he walks straight ahead in that direction, hoping no one will recognize him on the way. 

‘I heard his son has found some work as a doctor,’ he hears a shrill voice say. 

‘A Muggle doctor? How peculiar!’ says another voice.

This is exactly the kind of chatter Sirius doesn’t want to hear. In no way he thinks he’s superior because he was graced with magic powers at birth. It is so suffocating, and he feels so incredibly small and inadequate, drowning in this sea of close-minded guests. 

He studies them, recognizes some familiar faces from Hogwarts, but most of them are Slytherins and are not close at all to use them as an escape. A waiter walks in front of him, holding a tray where champagne flutes fill themselves up. He grabs one and drink it in one sip. He’s already quite tipsy, but he doesn’t care. He’d rather be intoxicated right now to bury this hatred deep within. God, he needs air. 

He sees Walburga looking for him in the room, and she’s walking next to a tall and handsome man. For Godric’s sake, why is she walking straight in his direction? The man next to her doesn’t look as old as his mother, but the grey strands in his black hair betrays his age. He looks posh, and haughty. 

‘This is my eldest son, Sirius,’ says his mother in a toneless voice. ‘Sirius, this his our host, Mr Santorini.’

‘Pleased to meet your, Mr Black,’ says the man while he extends his hand. 

Sirius gets up on his feet, subtly struggling to find his balance, under the duo’s concerned stare. He rapidly and weakly shakes the man’s hand and nods. Ashamed, Walburga shoots darts at her son and quickly turns away from him.

‘My youngest, Regulus, is doing quite well at Hogwarts, see, he’s - ...’ her voice fades away.  

Sirius closes his eyes; he needs to find some distraction. And what could be better than the little thing he has brought to the party that is currently hidden in his pocket behind the whiskey flask? He needs to feel something else than the dreadful thoughts he has right now. He struts to the giant marble staircase and finds his way on the upper level without attracting attention to him. That is one advantage when no one cares about you; not being seen. The voices downstairs are slowly fading away and he feels already so much better.

He runs a nervous hand in his dark locks, feeling quite hot, with this bowtie strangling him. There must be a door leading outside. He tries to open the first one on his right, but the handle doesn’t bulge; it’s locked. And Walburga has confiscated his wand at the beginning of the summer upon his return from Hogwarts, so there’s no use. He sighs and adventures further away in the hall.

He has more luck with the second door, and finds himself into a deserted bedroom. His eyes make out the giant bed over the central wall of the room, and spots some sealed boxes on the floor. The translucent curtains discreetly veil the large windows in front of him, and he opens one widely and lights himself a cigarette without a care, pacing into the room nervously. He sees some pictures resting on a vintage dresser on the opposite wall. There are rows of books in the built-in bookcases, and even some disperse vinyls taking up some of the space.  He’s clearly trespassing someone’s intimacy, but whose? Sirius walks to the dresser and opens up the first drawer. A tickling feeling in his stomach at the sight of the several underwear – even in the darkness – makes him wonder how long has it been since he’s been intimate with someone. The last time was before school ended, with Mallory, and it was just snogging. He never went all the way... He chuckles discreetly at the thought and taps the ashes of his cigarette on the floor. Fuck this house, fuck this bedroom, and fuck this posh Pureblood family. 

‘Mm, mm.’

Someone has cleared their throat behind him. He jumps, and tries to hide the cigarette away. 

‘Please, don’t stop for me,’ says a girl in the doorway. 

He can’t make up her traits in the darkness, but she sounds young. She steps right in front of him.

‘I don’t think you should be up here,’ she says.

He feels like a child, caught red-handed. He feels suddenly very trapped. 

‘I heard the owner of this house is quite severe,’ she adds, taking the cigarette away from him, inhaling the smoke into her lungs, and exhaling. ‘If he found us in his daughter’s room, I think he’d torture us without any remorse.’

‘His daughter’s room?’ he replies nervously.

She nods, giving him back his cigarette.

‘A real pest.’

There is an awkward silence. 

‘What were you doing here?’ she adds. 

‘Looking for a way out,’ he replies in all honesty. ‘What about you?’

‘Just about the same.’ She glances at the cigarette. ‘You might want to put it out now.’

‘I really don’t,’ he replies, taking one last whiff, ‘but when do I get what I want anyway?’

He throws it on the hard-wood floor indifferently and follows the stranger in the hallway. She turns around to take a good look at him.

‘I’m Y/N, by the way – ‘ 

He feels like his legs are going to flinch. He doesn’t know if it’s the sudden nicotine rush, or the champagne mixed with the whiskey, or the lights in the hallway shinning over Y/N’s green doe eyes staring at him, or her long black hair waving on her back, or her delicious pink lips, or the gentle freckles on her nose, but he’s suddenly feeling quite light-headed.

‘You okay there?’ she laughs. ‘What’s your name?’

He shakes his head, trying to regain his thoughts. 

‘I’m, er. I’m Si – ‘should he really tell her his real name? ‘I’m Sid.’

‘Sid,’ she repeats. ‘Well, Sid, you don’t look too good.’

‘I don’t feel too good,’ he admits. 

Her expression changes. She’s not amused anymore. She’s pitying him. 

‘Follow me,’ she says, grabbing his hand like she has known him forever, dragging him to the end of the wall where they cross a door and end up on a small balcony overlooking the deserted garden. 

‘How to you know this place?’ he asks, resting his arms on the guardrail, humming the fresh crisp air. 

‘Hung out with the pest earlier,’ she replies.

‘Not anymore?’

‘Told you, she’s a pest. I can’t leave, though. I’m sort of stuck here.’

‘So am I.’

She laughs lightly. The moonlight shines on her beautiful face, and her traits are so soft, and if he was much more like himself, he’d try to charm her the way he knows how. 

‘So, Sid. What are we avoiding?’ she asks away. 

‘My parents, I guess,’ he replies, taking out the flask of whiskey of his pocket.

He takes a big sip and hands it to her. She considers it for a moment and grabs it. The wind flies through her hair, and her perfume reaches his nostrils, a perfectly well-balanced mix of vanilla and gentle notes of citrus. The fragrance shoots up his nose and wafts around his brain. Fuck, she’s so beautiful.

‘What about them?’ she asks away, wincing when she swallows the liquor. 

He snorts. He doesn’t want to talk about his parents right now. Not when the prettiest girl he’s ever seen is standing right in front of him. He has something else on his mind now. 

‘Your accent,’ he says, switching subjects. ‘It’s not from here.’

Y/N nods. 

‘I grew up all over the place, but mostly America.’

‘You don’t sound American.’

She smiles, revealing a straight row of perfectly pearly white teeth. 

‘My family, we’re from Sicily.’

He nods.

‘It’s in Italy – ‘

‘I know where Sicily is, I’m not stupid,’ he replies harshly, a bit offended.  

But Y/N chuckles lightly, and her soft laugh brings his attitude down. He can’t help but stare at her. She’s a bit overdressed to his taste, but hey, so is he. He wonders what is hiding underneath that navy dress of hers, and if her skin is as soft as he imagines it is. He needs to calm down. 

‘First time in London, then?’

She nods. 

‘What do you think?’ he asks, locking eyes with her.

She licks her lower lip without realizing it.

‘Well, I don’t hate the accent,’ she teases. 

Praised be Godric. 

‘Tell me, Sid, you seem to be about my age, yet you’re drunk like an old man with a drinking problem, and you probably smoke like a city boy. I keep wondering if I really should be alone with you right now.’

‘Are you afraid?’ he asks.

She shakes her head.

‘Rarely.’

‘To be honest, Y/N,’ he says, pronouncing every syllable of her name like he could actually taste it, ‘I was alone up there to find a quiet spot for this.’

He shows up the joint between his fingers. She squints for a short moment and smiles.

‘I see.’

Y/N’s eyes bored into him. He wonders if he has crossed a line. He barely knows her, after all.  

‘Let’s go somewhere more private, then,’ she suggests, grabbing his hand. He doesn’t even have the time to appreciate the softness of her skin when he feels himself disapparating, his body swirling in every direction, and a sudden urge of panic takes hold off him. When he reapparates in a loud pop, he shouts:

‘What the hell are you doing? Are you bloody insane?’

‘What, did you never apparate before?’

‘Yes, I did but -,’ he is freaking out, Walburga must think he’s left and is probably fulminating. ‘My mother, she’s going to hex me! Bring us back!’

‘Why?’ Eliana asks, intrigued. ‘How would she know?’

Sirius shakes his head nervously. 

‘She placed some sort of charm on me, I’m not allowed to leave her sight. If she knows I left the premises, she’ll find me and – ‘ 

He stops himself from saying too much. Perhaps it would be a bit intense to share with the girl what would Walburga do to him. At least, he wouldn’t have to explain the healing bruises on his ribcage.

‘Relax, Sid. We’re still on the premises.’

He looks around and spots the house in the distance through a small window. Are they in some sort of guest house? A garden shed? There is nothing around him, he’s just standing on a mat. Relieved, he sits down, running a hand in his hair. Y/N joins him and creates a small fire by flicking her wand, enough to dimly light the room they are in. 

‘You’re actually scared of your parents. Why?’

Sirius chuckles. He’s not scared, he’s terrified of them. She points out the little stick he forgot he was holding between his fingers. 

‘Shall we?’ she suggests.

‘Who says I want to share?’

She pouts adorably. He lights it up and he takes a good breath of the substance and exhales slowly, indulging the heavy smoke, his lungs burning, and a light sensation rushes to his head. Them Muggles can also do magic, he thinks to himself. Under her curious eyes, he passes the stick in her delicate hands, and observes her. Her delicious lips reach it, and she slowly breathes it in. She starts coughing, tears running to her eyes.

‘Wait,’ he laughs, ‘is this your first time?’ 

She presses her hand to her rounded chest, laughing uncontrollably. Sirius shakes his head, following her laugh, and explains to her how to actually get the smoke to her lungs. 

‘There, yes – keep it still a second, let it -, yes, good,’ it’s like teaching children how to mount a broom, ‘and exhale. Brilliant.’

He waits a second before taking another whiff. Y/N’s mouth curves into a smile and she closes her eyes slowly. 

‘Oh,’ she exhales, ‘this is – ‘

‘I know,’ replies Sirius, smiling. ‘I know.’

‘Oh,’ she repeats. 

He stares at her, admiring her delicate features. Her eyes are still closed and he sees her falling on her back, completely relaxed. If his mother saw him right now, smoking pot with a random girl he met at this rich guy’s party, she’d have a good reason to use the Cruciatus curse on him for once. Or she’d cut his head before he could say he’s sorry. He decides to join Y/N and rests his back on the floor. He lays his head just beside hers and fixes the ceiling. He feels better now, and it’s not just the drugs. 

‘I feel so heavy,’ she says, sliding her hands on her naked arms. 

She turns her head and looks at him. 

‘Do you feel heavy?’

‘Kind of,’ he laughs. 

He doesn’t particularly feel heavy. In fact, he feels relieved, and mostly, he feels horny. Good god.  

‘What is there to do in London at night?’ she asks.

‘Mm,’ he hesitates. ‘Pubs, clubs, walking around Southbank, I guess.’

‘Never went to a pub,’ she admits.

He wants to run his finger on her cheek. He wants to grab her face and press his lips on hers.

‘You’re kidding,’ he replies, still fixing that beautiful mouth of hers. 

She shakes her head lightly, and a stroke of her long hair falls in her eyes. Her little red stained eyes. He smiles at the view, and slowly leans closer, replacing the stroke of black hair behind her ear. 

‘I’ll bring you to a pub, one day,’ he mutters, daydreaming out loud. 

‘Wouldn’t you mother kill you if you did?’ she jokes. 

‘She would. It would be worth the risk, though.’

She turns on her stomach and rests her head on her hands. He keeps staring at her, detailing everything. 

‘What are you looking at?’ she chuckles.

‘Just admiring the view,’ he replies frankly.  

She would blush if she wasn’t all flustered already. There’s an odd adrenaline spluttering inside of him as he feels her close, and his pulse quickens and he’s feeling so hot right now, he’s melting into the rug. There’s a comfortable silence between them, and they both enjoy it for a couple of minutes. There is something about this girl, this nonchalant attitude, and her mesmerizing eyes, and her accent, and the way her body moves when she finally sits down again, pulling her dress over her thighs to sit comfortably, making him lose his fucking mind. If he weren’t so distracted by her presence, he’d be sweet talking to her, like he’s so used to do with other girls. But he’s simply incapable of doing so, like she’s robbed him of his means. 

‘We should go back, they’re going to be looking for us,’ she whispers, showing him her hand to help him sit back. 

But he doesn’t want to go back and mingle with the people he hates. He wants to be alone with her, if it is just to stay motionless on this rug in her company. He takes her hand and sits back up, and their eyes lock again, and they stare at each other, and he’s wondering if he’s hallucinating someone so perfect to help him cope with this emptiness he feels all the time. She absentmindedly licks her lips, taunting him, and he has to remind himself how to breathe, as his lips quirk hesitantly, sighing out loud to stop himself from pining her underneath him. 

‘Yeah,’ he stutters, like a fucking coward, and then he clears his throat and steadies his pulse and sternly instructs himself to get it together, dude. James would be laughing at him if he saw him right now. 

But they both stay there, motionless. He can feel the drugs running away from his bloodstream, he’s on another high now, another rush, and it has nothing to do with it. He can’t stop staring at her lips. Her expression washes over him in waves, and he pins a hesitant smile on his face, hoping it will distract her from the bulge growing down there.

‘Or we could just, you know, stay here for a while,’ she suggests.

For fuck’s sake. 

He’s only able to gulp and nod, his cock painfully growing thick through the fabric. He tries to hide the bump by placing his arm over his legs, but instead it catches her attention down there, and her eyes quickly spots it, but she innocently acts like she’s unaware of the effect she has on him. If he could only smack his lips on hers. 

Her emerald eyes are wide open, she leans in and presses her soft lips on his, and he’s never felt so relieved in his entire life, her mouth is warm and soft, and he can actually run his hands in her soft hair, and he can hear his heart hammering in his ears, and she actually lets out a discreet moan in his mouth, and fuck, there he is, gone, he knows there is no way back from there. 

He feels her hands slowly unbuckling his belt and removing those atrocious trousers, and he follows through, pulling up her dress to reveal her skin. He removes his shirt, he has dreamt all night to rip it off his body from the second he put it on, and now she’s pushing him on his back on the hard rug and places kisses in the crook of his neck, sliding her tongue all the way down, and he knows where she’s heading, but he can’t let her do that, or he’s going to cum already. He grabs her head softly, and while he’s busy sticking his tongue into her mouth, he’s unclasps her top, tosses it on the floor, and starts licking her round breasts, circling her hard nipples with his tongue. He realizes it is actually the first time he’s allowed to touch naked breasts, and Merlin, this is so much better when there’s no fabric covering them. 

He pins her small body under him, and he slowly moves down on her. He admires her ribcage moving up and down, and he can hears her heavy breathing, and he feels like he can’t hold it anymore. He runs his lips on her skin, down her stomach, to the birth of her underwear, pulling them down very gently. Sirius can’t believe he just met her a couple of hours ago; he feels like he has been desiring her for an eternity. There was a before her, and there’s now – and all the shit he’s been dealing with since school ended is now tucked away in the back of his mind. He caresses with his lips the soft bump between her legs, indulging the new sensation, and then just takes a mouthful of her sex. Her breathing stops, her ribcage is suspended for a second, and then she breathes out and grabs the back of his head while he tastes her. It’s sweet, and warm, and wet, and salty at the same time, and it’s so fucking good.

She’s squirming and writhing beneath him, her subtle moans amplifying. The gasps she makes sends sparks of unbearable pleasure through him, and he feels dizzy, like his heart is about to explode, ready to jump out of his chest at any moment. He slides one finger into her, and then another, and she spams around his fingers. He observes her perfect body tensing at his touch, cupping one breast with one hand while she orgasms into his mouth, her fluids mixing with his saliva. Her face is flushed and her pupils are dilated, and he could very well be on this high for the rest of his existence. But she places kisses on his lips, tasting herself on him, and his cock is so hard, he can’t help but groan when he feels her hand grabs his sex through the fabric of his underwear, slowly stroking him. It is pure torture.

He feels the small piece of clothing covering him sliding down his legs, and he kicks it on the floor. She stares at him in the eyes and licks her fingers, then moves her hand down there again, gently applying pressure on his hard-on. Sirius’ head tilt to the back, blood rushes through him. That is a different story when it’s someone’s else hand, isn’t? 

She lays down in front of him, and he follows her as she guides is cock at the entrance of her sex, and it’s so wet, how is he going to pull through? He’s shaking with apprehension but pure pleasure. She suddenly frowns.

‘Wait,’ she hesitates, ‘is this your first time?’

He nods. There’s so point in lying. 

‘Do you want to stop?’

Of course, he doesn’t want to stop. He shakes his head, and her face lits up. 

They kiss and he presses the tip of his cock into her, slowly, to get every sensation right, and he closes his eyes and, oh this feels so fucking good, and he can’t help but exhales of relief when he feels the warmth, and he hears her gasping underneath him. He’s sinking into her, and she pushes his length even farther by raising her hips. Why does it feel so good? He starts to pace inside her, like he has known what to do forever, increasing the tempo, and she moans under him. He moves swiftly now, trying with all his might to not just release himself off the pressure. She throws her head back into the rug, he feels sweat pearling at the birth of his forehead, his locks fall into his eyes, and he accelerates his pace and presses her legs on her stomach, and oh my god, this is even better. 

She presses her right hand on his chest, running her fingers over his hard stomach, avoiding the bruises, detailing each parcel of his body. She looks back up and pushes her lips on his, and their tongues meet, and he’s completely melting into her. She finally bucks her hips tightly and Sirius hisses, he can’t hold up anymore. Oh, he wants to hear her say his name – if only he had given his real one – but she lets a loud ‘fuck’ escape her mouth, and she’s damp with sweat, and he never seen something so beautiful, he slams into her harder and faster, he groans while his grip tightens around her delicate waist. He feels almost he’s in pain and something stronger than life itself is burning him; yes, he’s burning up down there, he can’t hold it anymore, his whole body is on fire, he glances at her one last time, and he lets out a guttural growl, while feeling his insides pushing his soul out, and for a short moment, he thinks he’s dying, spilling his warm seed into her, filling her up while’s he petrified, hanging between dream and reality, thinking his heart stopped beating. 

It is only half an hour later that he comes back to the manor, flustered and feeling out of his body, followed by Y/N. She’s even prettier under the warm lights, blushed cheeks, and he relives in his mind what just happened over and over again. That wasn’t bad for a first time, he thinks. 

‘Y/N! Papà has been looking for you forever, where were you?’, a young girl is staring at her. 

She shares similar traits with Y/N, but she looks younger, about Regulus’ age. Her arms are crossed, and she observes Sirius oddly, in a manner that makes him believe she can easily guess what Y/N was doing all the time they’ve been away. 

‘Where is he?’ asks Y/N. 

The young girl points at the host, the man he shook hands with earlier, speaking with Sirius’ father and a couple of older men in the corner of the room. 

‘Clara,’ mumbles Y/N with a threatening expression. ‘non dire niente a Papà.’

The young girl rolls her eyes and leaves them. Sirius frowns. Wait a minute, is this girl... 

‘Didn’t you tell me the host’s daughter was -’ he mumbles, feeling his hands becoming moist.

‘A pest,’ she smiles. ‘My sister.’ 

[looooooooomis]

F I N A L  G I R L  |  F O U R

You were his final girl.  And there was no chance in hell that anyone or anything was going to mess that up.

p a r t   f o u r  |  k e y s

masterlist here

pairing: Billy Loomis x f!reader word count: 4.4k warnings: angst, s m u t, some more s m u t, teasing, finger-licking good billy boy, implied/referenced cheating, def not a healthy, functioning relationship (but like eh we persevere), some more s m u t. 

Despite your best efforts, the last few days had been miserable without Billy.

You hadn’t realized just how much of a routine he’d become over the last seven months, how much you’d both come to rely on each other and, fuck, did you miss him. You missed his smell, you missed that small little cheeky grin of his, you missed curling up beside him and feeling him over every inch of your skin. Your body craved for him in an almost primal way but, while you could live with denying your body its needs, it was your heart that hurt the most.

What was supposed to be a quick release for the two of you had never been that easy. You’d been in love with the idiot since freshman year, seen him through his various ups and downs and he’d seen yours, too. Which was precisely what made this entire situation that much harder. Not only were you dealing with your own heartache, but you were witnessing his, too.

Billy’s grief was more or less a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it sort of thing. Ever the stoic silent type, you hadn’t expected to see much of what he was feeling splayed out on that handsome face of his, but shocking even you, his regret was palpable. And each and every time those brown eyes met yours, that grief that was as clear as day struck you blind.

You’d tried telling yourself that it was for the best because, in all honesty, it was but that didn’t make the pain go away. Nor did it make you miss him any less. You were trapped in a vicious cycle of missing Billy, sticking to your guns, and worrying about him all at once.

God, you’d really fucked up with this one.

“You sure you’re okay?” Tatum asked, narrowing her eyes at you as you shoved a handful of books into your locker. “You’ve been scatterbrained all week.”

“I’m fine,” you shrugged, “why wouldn’t I be?”

“You tell me,” she leaned her hip against the locker. “Is this about Steve?”

You blinked as the question played on loop in your head. “Steve?” You asked, giving the strawberry blonde your full attention. “First of all, and I mean this from the bottom of my heart: ew. Secondly, huh?”

Tatum smirked. “Don’t play dumb, you’ve been acting all weird since Billy went psycho on his ass last week.”

“No, I haven’t,” you hoped your laugh didn’t sound as fake as it felt. “Also, Steve’s an asshole. If the day ever comes when I am interested in that big oaf, feel free to euthanize me.”

“Promise,” she made a motion of crossing her heart, “but in the meantime, you swear nothing is up?”

“Cross my heart,” you mimicked the gesture and shut your locker. “What are you up to after practice tonight? Want to go see that new Brad Pitt movie?”

Her shoulders fell. “Can’t, Stu’s coming over,” she unwrapped a lollipop and shoved it in her mouth. “I’d say ask Sid, but she got into it with Billy last night so she’s in a mood.”

You tried not to care, you really did, but her words hit you like a freight train. “They did?” You asked, hoping beyond hope that your voice didn’t sound quite as high pitched as it sounded in your head. “What happened?”

“Who knows,” Tatum shrugged, “Billy’s always been a little intense and Sid’s been a little cagey since…well, you know – so, it’s bound to happen.”

You swallowed hard and continued to nod along to Tatum’s words. Were you nodding too frequently? Did you appear too interested all of the sudden? Catching yourself, you focused on the leftover gum on the locker just behind your friend’s head and cleared your throat. “That’s shitty.”

“Relationships,” Tatum waved off, “they’re all pretty shitty sometimes.”

Before you could finish putting your foot in your mouth any further, the third bell rang out signaling your next class. Your most dreaded class: Biology. With a groan you tossed your bag over your shoulder and frowned across at Tatum. “See you at practice?”

With a nod, Tatum took off towards her class as you slowly sauntered towards your own. You were halfway down the hall when you heard a set of heavy footfalls running towards you from behind. Glancing over your shoulder, you barely had time to register Stu’s smiling face before he threw an arm around your shoulders. “How ya doing, pal?”

“Peachy,” you scraped your eyes along his profile and blinked. “If you’re about to play the rule of dutiful henchman for you know who, I’ve got a class to flunk.”

“Harsh,” Stu beamed, “I see why our boy’s so smitten.”

With a roll of your eyes, you glanced around at the people around you and glowered up at him. “Stu,” you warned, “I’m not in the mood for this.”

“For what?” He feigned innocence. “I haven’t said a word.”

“But you want to,” you mused. “And I don’t want to hear it.”

Stu chuckled. “All I was going to say is, like, I get it.”

You shouldn’t have taken his bait. What you should have done was push him off of you and continue on your merry way to class. That would have been the smart thing to do, the responsible thing to do.

Too bad you were neither of those two things.

Roped in, you sighed in defeat. “Get what?”

“I’ll be the first to admit,” he began, “when Bill told me that you and him were…you know, I laughed. I mean, two broads, man? I can barely handle the one how’s he going to deal with two of you?”

“I’m hoping there’s a point coming,” you groused.

“Right,” he laughed again, “my point is that I get it. I get why you two work. Why he’s knee deep in this big fucking mess because of it. You two work.”

“Stu,” you threw your head back and glared at the ceiling. “Stop.”

“What?” He asked. “Am I wrong?”

You gently pushed him away from you and dropped your voice into a whisper. “That’s not the point. He’s with Sid.”

“So?” Stu made a face. “Her mom just died, what do you want him to do? Dump her and break her heart? Her mom just died, that’d callous, man.”

“We’re breaking her heart either way, whether she knows it or not.”

Stu stopped walking and there was a compassion in his stare that left you reeling. For as long as you’d known him, Stu Macher had always been the goof. The reckless, chaotic idiot that seemed to fit just perfectly into your little mish mash of a group. But the sincerity in his blue eyes as the two of you stood in the emptying hallway was a look you’d never seen before.

“And by doing this, you’re breaking yours.” He limply shrugged. “Billy’s, too.”

Your shoulders fell as the weight of Stu’s words sank in. You couldn’t exactly say much in terms of a rebuttal, naturally, because he was right. There were no happy endings for either of you at this point in the charade. Sid had still been lied to and cheated on, Billy was still trapped in a relationship he no longer wished to be in in fear of hurting the girl he once loved and you were stuck in the middle, watching two people you cared for fall to bits while having to remain stoic in fear of showing your hand.

What a fucking mess.

After another minute of silence, Stu wriggled his eyebrows and squeezed your shoulder reassuringly. “Just something to think about.”

Taking off down the hall, Stu left you to your own devices as you stood in the middle of an empty hallway with far too much on your mind. In an almost zombie-like trance, you took off in the direction of your biology class, not quite caring that you were about to be marked as tardy for the third time that week. But, before you got to that god-forsaken class, you heard the click of a door not far off before a pair of arms encircled around your middle, yanking you into the nearest classroom. A surprise yelp tore out of your mouth, but the full-fledged scream died in your throat as soon as you realized just who it was who had grabbed you.

“Jesus, Billy, you scared the hell out of me.” You grasped your chest and took in the dark, empty classroom around you. He was still holding you against the nearest wall, you could feel the heat of those large hands through your thin shirt. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Sorry,” despite the desperation in those brown eyes, his voice never wavered. It was still as calm and collected as ever. “I’d go to your house, but it’s been like Fort Knox for the last week or so.”

You chewed on your lip for a moment before averting your eyes to the ground, not quite being able to stomach the weight of his stare just yet. “Billy, unless anything’s changed, I—”

“In case anything’s changed?” He reiterated with raised brows. “Everything’s changed. I miss you, Y/N, more than you can even comprehend. I know I’ve fucked up, I know that, but I need you. The last nine days without being able to really see you or feel you or kiss you or—”

“I get it,” you held your hands up and gently pushed him away. “And it’s been hard on me, too, Billy. But it doesn’t change anything.”

For a few, long, agonizing moments, Billy remained still as a thousand different emotions splayed out across his face. There was anger and grief, sadness and desperation. But the look you got as he dropped to his knees in front of you was pure, unadulterated fear. “I promise you, Y/N, the second I can, when the time is right, Sid and I will be no more. But me and you are it, sweetheart,” his hands gently circled around your hips before embracing you around your middle. “I’m so fucking sorry that this is how it has to be right now. And I’m sorry that I’m too fucking selfish to let this go, but I can’t. I need you. I need us. You’re everything good in my life and I know I need to start proving that to you.”

Still, you remained quiet. Your fingers itched to reach out and run your fingers through that slightly greasy, unruly mop of hair, but instead you kept them pinned down at your side as you considered his words. There was no doubt in your mind that he meant them, the desperation on his face said as much, but you had your reservations. Taking your silence in stride, however, Billy simply reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, velvet box.

Your heart nearly stopped.

“Oh, jesus,” you grumbled, burying your head in your hands. “You better not be doing what I think you’re fucking doing.”

“Open the box, Y/N.”

“No,” you held your hands up. “Not if it’s…that.”

Billy sighed. The muscle in his cheek twitched. “It’s not a fucking engagement ring.”

Somewhat relieved, you continued to stare down at the box in slight disdain. “So, what is it?”

Billy sighed. “Fucking open it and you’ll see.”

“Buying the ‘other woman’ jewelry, Billy?” You shook your head. “You’re like a walking cliché at this point.”

“Shut-up and open the goddamn box.” Standing up to his full height, he continued to hold the box out towards you and breathed out a quiet laugh when you remained unwavering. “It’s not a fucking bomb, Y/N, open it.”

With a sigh, you snatched the box out of his hand and, rather unceremoniously, opened it up to reveal a key. Not a fancy skeleton key or a charm in the shape of a key but a regular, run of the mill house key. You blinked, mildly surprised. “Okay, I’ll give you a point for creativity with the box,” you pulled the key out and observed it. “But what is it?”

“It’s a key,” Billy said, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

“I see that,” a small smile pulled at your lips as you looked across at him. “What’s it for?”

“It’s a key to my parents’ cabin.”

If you were meant to understand the significance, the story was lost on you. Looking back down at the key, you surveyed its tiny ridges briefly before nodding. “And what’s that have to do with me?”

He took a step towards you and grabbed the hand still clutching onto the key. “My dad doesn’t go up there much ever since my mother left and I figure we could both use a place where we can just…be.” His raked his thumbnail along your knuckles. “No Sid, no anyone. Just you and me.”

You were trying to remain unfazed by the sentiment, to remain icy and cool to the man you were supposed to be pulling away from, but between the softness in those warm brown eyes and the weight of the key still clutched in your hand, you could feel your defenses waning. “You expect Sid to just not care that you’re disappearing up north every once in a while?”

“I’ll make it work,” he shrugged it off. “And, to be honest, I don’t care what she thinks.”

Your answer came in the form of a long, drawn out sigh. “Billy,” you began, but before you could dive into the rest of your speech, his large hands slid up your arms and neck to cradle your face.

Slowly, he backed you into a nearby desk and traced the apple of your cheek with his thumb. “We can sneak up there whenever we want. Spend a whole weekend up there, just the two of us. I can worship this fucking body of yours in every square inch of that cabin. I can go into town and hold your fucking hand in public. We can do whatever the hell it is we want to do up there, whenever we want, without worrying about any of our idiot friends seeing us.”

Your pulse quickened at the thought of being able to parade around like a normal couple in a town where not a single soul knew who you were. You swallowed, trying to steady your excitement with a dose of realism. “It’s still not fair to Sidney.”

“Fuck Sidney!” Billy’s voice echoed out around the vast, empty classroom, alarming you with just how angry he sounded. His chest heaved with a white-hot rage that you couldn’t fully comprehend, and his jaw was wound shut as his nostrils flared with each and every heavy, uneven breath he took. You swallowed hard and watched the man steady his nerves, unsure of your next move. You’d seen Billy angry before, but that level of emotion was definitely new.

You weren’t sure whether to be terrified or turned on by the sudden outburst.

But, just as quickly as it happened, Billy’s eyes slowly opened to reveal those molasses coloured eyes again. “Sorry, sweetheart,” he appeased. “But I can’t have her stand in the way of this. I won’t.”

You remained silent as you shimmied on top of the desk that had been poking into your ass for the last few seconds and tried not to focus on the way your body seemed to melt into Billy’s as he stepped in between your legs, still looking at you with all the intensity of the world.

“If we do this,” you found yourself muttering, “there’s going to be some ground rules.”

A sense of hope blossomed in Billy’s chest as he vigorously nodded his head. “Anything you want,” sliding his hands up the sides your stomach, he gently held your waist and gave it a small squeeze. “You name it.”

“When we go up to the aforementioned cabin, we go out.” You told him. “While I’m more than happy to blow you in the living room without worrying about your dad walking in, it would be nice to go on an actual fucking date.”

Billy nodded and, with his hands still on your waist, he tried not to focus on the thin cotton of your shirt bunching between his fingers as his thumb danced along your ribcage. There was so little between you in the empty classroom, barely any space as the two of you were practically nose to nose. And between that short little skirt you had on and your pert nipples beneath your thin tank top, it was enough to make his cock twitch inside of his pants. “Anything else?” He asked, his voice husky as he nudged his nose against yours.

“Yeah,” you ran your tongue along your now parched lips as you sat with Billy standing between your thighs, holding you in place as his thumb traced agonizingly close to your tit. Were you even breathing? It didn’t feel like it. You were wet, too, which made his inhumanly close proximity almost too much to bear. “Lock the fucking door this time.”

A roguish grin enveloped his features as he stepped out from between your legs. Crossing the threshold of the classroom in two seconds flat, Billy locked the door and made his way back to you with that same mischievous glimmer in his eye. His eyes were hungry and, as his hands shifted down to your ass, he tugged you even closer to the edge of the desk. Closer to him. With your legs still open and on either side of his hips, you just about died when your clit managed to rub against the zipper of his jeans.

A quiet, low moan tore out of your throat from the sensation.

“Anything else?” He asked, leaning his forehead against yours.

“Yeah,” your breathing was ragged as Billy’s slow, methodical fingers, trailed up the side of your stomach. He was being extraordinarily temperate and slow to further tease you but, despite knowing how risky this was, you were putty in his hands. “Touch me.”

His nose brushed against yours again as he shifted his hips just enough for the zipper of his jeans to rub against your clit again. The bastard knew what he was doing.

“This feel good?” He asked as his hips toiled into you again.  

You were practically dry fucking against the desk, you could have been caught any second. But, fuck, when he pulled you in a little more and slowly gyrated his jean-clad pelvis against your clit again, you couldn’t care less. “Mhmm,” you hummed.

Slowly, Billy’s dept fingers slid up from your waist towards your breasts. Raking his thumb against the swollen bud, he leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on the side of your neck.

He knew his jeans were rubbing against your clit and, as he looked down and saw the visible wet patch on your blue thong, he wanted nothing more than to rip them off of you and bury his face in between your legs. “God, I’ve fucking missed you.”

When his hand squeezed your breast, you arched into his grasp. “I bet you did.”

Billy smirked and rolled your nipples between his fingers through the fabric of your shirt. With every roll of your hips, the strap of your shirt slipped down just enough to expose your breast. Without missing a beat, Billy leaned into your chest and allowed his mouth to consume your nipple, swirling his tongue around it expertly before biting down. You hissed as a combination of both pain and pleasure ripped through your body.

Your fingers curled around the hair along the nape of his neck and gave it a firm tug as is hands held you firmly in place. “Fuck, Billy” you moaned, breathless.

He released your nipple slowly, nipping at it one final time before leaning his forehead against yours again. You wanted like hell to close the distance between you. You wanted to feel his lips on yours. Feel the tickle of his stubble along your upper lip and have that expert tongue brush against yours.

But you also wanted to make him sweat a little.  

You weren’t sure what had come over you as you slid your hand down your torso. Maybe it was adrenaline of being caught or the relief of having Billy in your arms again but as you allowed your fingers to dip beneath the hem of your exposed thong, the look on Billy’s face made it all worth it.

“What are you doing?” His Adams apple bobbed up and down as he watched you touch yourself. You were in an awkward angle, but as your finger circled your clit and you watched the bulge in his pants grow, you were coasting high.

“What’s it look like I’m doing?” You hummed, feigning innocence. “When I say touch me, I mean it, Billy. I’m taking matters into my own hands.” You pinched your clit and arched your naked chest into him. “Fuck.”

You heard him swear under his breath as his lips ghosted over yours. “You’re doing my head in, woman,” he growled, sliding his fingers beneath your panties. You gasped when his thumb began to circle your clit. And when he slid two fingers inside of you, you nearly saw stars.

His mouth found yours, mid-moan. Reaching the hand that had just been down the waistband of your shorts, you ran your fingers through his hair as his tongue coaxed yours. Everything about this man was electric. His fingers quickened their pace and before you knew it, you were thrusting into his hand. Placing sloppy kisses down from your mouth and along your jaw, Billy nipped at your ear. “How’s this for touching you, sweetheart?” He hissed, licking and biting his way across your neck.

Your breathing was rampant as you felt yourself edging closer and closer. “It’s alright,” you teased with a cloudy grin.

“So stubborn,” he laughed into your neck and curled his fingers so that he hit an area inside you that felt almost primal. The moan he got in return made him bite down on your collarbone. He curled his fingers again and you nearly choked. “You sure?”

Pulling his hair, you steered his face back to yours and crashed your lips against his. “Fuck me.” You mumbled into his mouth.

He applied the smallest bit of pressure to your clit and flicked his fingers one final time, sending you over the cliff. With a long, shaky moan, you bucked your hips uncontrollably as you came into his hand. Every inch of you felt as though it was on fire as Billy made you ride out your orgasm, not for a second easing up on your clit as you writhed beneath him.

“Play with your tits,” he barked out through hooded eyes.

“You play with them,” you argued, but the resolve in your voice was gone. You weren’t entirely sure if you knew your name at that point. All you could focus on was the feeling of his finger pinching your highly sensitive clit and that was it. Everything else was a blur.

“God, you’re so fucking stubborn.”

You were so wet and so turned on you could barely think straight. “Billy,” you pleaded, your entire body heating up almost unbearably so. When he ignored you and instead continued his attack on your clit, you whimpered. “I need you to fuck me.”

With a bruising kiss, Billy released your clit and, in seconds flat, tugged his jeans far enough down his hips before slipping inside of you. The moan that escaped your lips was undeniable as he pumped into you. Reaching up, he grabbed your tit and squeezed as he bit down on your exposed neck. It was a sensory overload coming from all angles.

“Fuck,” Billy’s hoarse voice was in your ear as he pumped into you. “You feel so fucking good, Y/N.” He reached for your face and tilted your chin up towards him, meeting you halfway with a sloppy kiss. Moaning into his mouth, you managed lose yourself in that instance.

Gone was the room around you.

Hell, gone was everything up until this point.

All you could focus on was the feeling of Billy inside of you. Biting down on his lip, you tugged it back as he rolled his hips in a way that made you quiver. He was thrusting, hard, in an almost animalistic that made your entire body shake with the velocity of every desperate push. He moved between kissing your lips, to biting them to suckling your neck as he continued to rail into you with all of passion in the world. He was a man, unhinged, and you weren’t sure if you’d ever seen him so sexy.

Not surprising in the least, it didn’t take him long to come. You’d riled him up to the point of no return and, as you felt him come inside of you, you all but laughed when his forehead dramatically fell against your own.

For a few minutes, neither of you moved, simply just remained still and firmly pressed against one another. But, as the weight of your current whereabouts slowly dawned on either of you, you both slowly pulled away from each other, both wearing a small smile as you re-dressed yourselves.

Once his pants were done up, Billy stepped into you once again and placed a kiss on your forehead. “Cabin this weekend, okay?”

You nodded and hopped down from the desk. “Yeah, maybe,” you teased, fixing your skirt.

Billy’s eyebrows rose. “Oh, maybe, eh?”

“Yeah,” you winked, “I’ll think about it.”

“Smart ass,” Billy smirked. “That mouth of yours is going to get you in trouble one of these days.”

“I’m counting on it.” Once you were both fixed up, you nodded towards his hand which was still slicked with your juices. You laughed. “Oops.”

But Billy didn’t seem fazed. Instead, your breath hitched in your throat when he raised his hand to his lips and licked your slick clear off, relishing in the taste of it with a knowing smirk on his face. “This weekend.” He reiterated, driving the point home.

“This weekend,” you agreed, walking towards the door. Ensuring nobody saw the two of you leave an empty classroom together, you unlocked the door and gave Billy a small, knowing smile. “See you at lunch, lover boy.”

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

All Men Have Limits - VI

Character: Dick Grayson x Reader x Bruce Wayne

Summary: A certain bat believes that Y/N is in way over her head, that she’s too naive to act in her best interest. So, whether she wants it or not, the vigilante family is going to help and protect her before she gets herself killed.

Word Count: 3,800+

Previously on…

“Nightwing! Regroup!” Bruce snapped into the comms again.

No matter how dire the situation was, they always stuck with their codenames while in uniform. But right now, Bruce wanted to scream at Dick to get his shit together.

Dick was quiet for a moment, allowing his family to only hear the roaring of his motorcycle as it zipped through the streets of Gotham.

“By the time we regroup, she’ll be dead,” Dick answered darkly.

This was the biggest difference between Dick and Bruce.

Dick wasn’t ruled by his emotions – except when it involved the safety of people he cared for and loved. When that happened, his emotions took control. It was very unlike Bruce, which just proved there were some things Dick simply couldn’t get trained out of him.

Bruce was always calm and collected – even when it was his kids that were in danger. Was he scared for Y/N’s life? Yes. But he also knew that panicking and going in hot was not going to help her. If anything, it would put more people in danger.

“Jason is following him,” Tim announced.

Jason might’ve refused to use comms, but they still had a tracker on his bike.

“What’s the plan?” Tim asked.

——————

Y/N probably looked like a drunk driver from the way she was serpentining to the heart of Gotham.

But she was tried to load a magazine into her gun as she ran every red light without getting t-boned by oncoming traffic.

It was…a lot. Especially since Y/N knew she were driving to her assassination.

It hadn’t been hard sneaking past the internal security at the manor. Y/N knew she could do it since she was brought there. But she decided to save that knowledge for the right time. And that was tonight. It was clearly designed mostly for Damian – or perhaps for any of the boys when they were younger and rebellious.

Then Y/N had to jumpstart the first car she saw parked on the street near Wayne Manor, which took longer than she had liked.

She might not have a lot of skills in the combat area. But she was rather resourceful in almost every other way – which included hijacking cars.

Y/N was so panicked about making it to the city before they could intervene, that her mind wasn’t really processing what was about to happen.

All Y/N knew was that she hoped they’d be done with it before any of them knew what was happening and could try to stop it.

She knew what they would’ve said. They would’ve told her to stay where she was and they would handle it. They would’ve done everything to keep her safe while also trying to save Gotham.

But Y/N couldn’t wait to see if she was responsible for the deaths of thousands while she sat on her ass and did nothing.

So she took her life into her own hands.

She gave enough information for them to use. Even if she was gone, she’d given them enough leads to finish the job without her.

Now her time was up.

Y/N knew eventually time would catch to her. She’d lived a far too risky life, threatened the most dangerous people, ruined the lives and locked up even more of dangerous people. It was only a matter of time before her luck ran out.

Y/N skidded the car to a stop. And she realized her hands were shaking as she threw the car into park.

She hadn’t stopped driving until she reached Old Gotham – right underneath the Clock Tower.

It was a nice, wealthy part of the city, which meant that there weren’t questionable people lingering on the streets.

In fact, it was eerily quiet – even for such a nice neighborhood. Y/N didn’t see a single person walking around in her vicinity.

But when she turned, there were five masked people watching her.

The Talons.

Their faces and bodies were completely covered, with their masks and goggles reminiscent of actual owls.

All of them had an arsenal of some sort of bladed weapon – countless knives, katanas, axes, or even broadswords. And, of course, they all had talons. 

“So you are the irritant,” one of them greeted, his voice muffled from his gear.

Y/N took a step back as she grabbed her gun out of the back of her waist.

But she felt a presence behind her and whipped around to see more Talons surrounding her.

Did they really expect her to be able to put up that much of a fight?

“I’ve been called worse,” Y/N smirked.

She was clearly in denial that she was about to die.

They all unsheathed their weapons.

But Y/N wasn’t going to let them make the first move.

She started shooting bullets. Either they were wearing bullet-proof vests or they were blocking her bullets with their weapons. It was all happening so fast that she couldn’t figure it out. She knew her aim wasn’t off. Jason had been secretly teaching her how to shoot. And she’d gotten rather good with his help.

“Fuck,” Y/N hissed when her magazine was empty and she had failed to take down a single Talon.

As she tried to reload the magazine, their patience ran out.

One of them knocked the gun out of her hand, slicing the skin in the process.

Before Y/N could look down at the damage, another Talon wrapped his hand around her neck and lifted her off the ground like a doll.

“How can such a weak and pathetic woman have caused such a nuisance?” He cooed at her as he tilted his head, inspecting her.

Y/N couldn’t reply even if she wanted to.

Her hands were frantically trying to free herself, nails ripping at the armor and gloves of the Talon.

“Perhaps she could be of use to us,” one of them spoke up. “Unless she’d rather die…”

But before they could drop her or make a decision, someone dropped into the middle of the chaos with a blur.

Next thing Y/N knew, she was being dropped to the ground and coughing to recover her breath.

When she looked up, she saw Dick – no, Nightwing – taking on all of the Talons who were sent to kill her.

Yes, Y/N had frequently seen Dick train with Bruce and his brothers. However, this was something entirely different.

Y/N watched in shock as Dick used his escrima sticks to take out the Talons in droves. He flipped, kicked, punched, and moved in a way Y/N had never seen before.

There was a moment of pause that gave him the opportunity to meet her gaze.

“Y/N, run!” Dick screamed as he flipped away from the deadly claws of a Talon.

She blinked at his command and snapped out of her daze.

Jumping to her feet, she did as he said.

But she only got a few yards before two more Talons dropped in front of her and blocked her path.

Her fear was interrupted by bullets raining on them seconds before a motorcycle flew into her peripheral.

Red Hood did a front wheel break and swung his motorcycle so precisely that he managed to take out both of the Talons with the backend of his bike.  

He turned to look at her. “Get on.”

But Y/N looked behind her at Dick, who was fighting Talon after Talon.

“What about Di–” she stopped herself from using his name. “What about Nightwing?!”

“Batman is on his way with the others. But right now, we have to get you out of here,” Jason yelled back.

Right on cue, the Batmobile came screaming toward them, as well as Tim on his motorcycle.

“Y/N, get on the motherfucking bike,” Jason warned her.

She turned around again and saw Dick now being aided by Damian, Tim, and Bruce. They were finally starting to overpower the Talons.

Clearly they hadn’t sent the numbers to defend themselves against the entire bat family. They probably assumed Y/N would head their warning and arrive unaccompanied. And Y/N did. But both her and The Court underestimated the vigilante family’s protectiveness towards her.

Y/N finally listened to Jason and jumped on the back of his motorcycle.

Barely giving her a second to adjust, Jason floored it and sped away from the fight as quickly as possible.

This motorcycle ride was nothing like the one Y/N shared with Dick.

Jason rode like bat out of hell, whipping around tight corners without slowing down. And even with her vice-like grip around his waist, Y/N felt like she could fly off at any moment. The wind stung against her skin like a million little needles.

“Where are we going?” Y/N tried to scream to him.

“We have to make sure they’re not tracking us before we return to the cave!”

Y/N couldn’t tell how long they had been driving around. But her arms and muscles were sore from the tension of holding on for dear life. She was so exhausted that if she hadn’t been so scared, she probably could’ve fallen asleep on the back of Jason’s motorcycle – even with his reckless driving.

Without any warning, Jason veered into a parking garage and went to the basement level where no cars were parked. He must’ve pressed a button because a hidden compartment was opening against the cement wall and suddenly they were driving through it.

Y/N got off the bike as soon as he stopped and looked around.

It must be one of his safehouses.

To her surprise, Jason took off his Red Hood helmet and then the domino mask underneath. He also grabbed some clothes that would either cover his Red Hood uniform or make it look like civilian clothing.

He pointed to a car, “Come on.”

Y/N followed him silently and got into the passenger seat.

It was a 20 minute ride back to the manor.

And it finally gave Y/N time to actually process what she had planned to do tonight. 

“Wanna talk about it?” Jason asked after 10 minutes of silence.

“And say what?” She challenged.

He smirked. “I don’t know. Maybe how you enjoy playing sacrificial lamb.”

Y/N ground her teeth together. “That’s oversimplifying it, and you know it.”

Jason just shrugged.

“That’s it?” She asked when he didn’t follow up with any more questions. “Really? You’re not going to start lecturing me?”

“Oh, definitely not. ‘Cause you’re gonna get a shit ton of that when Bruce sees you – maybe even from Dick, if he’s not too overwhelmed with relief from seeing you in one piece. Which, by the way, you’re very lucky to be.”

Y/N had no response to that.

The rest of the ride was quiet, except for the local classic rock radio station that Jason decided to turn on.

To their surprise, no one was waiting in the cave for them. But Dick and Tim’s motorcycles were parked, as well as the batmobile. So they had clearly returned.

“That might not be a great sign…” Jason mumbled as got out of his civilian car. “Come on,” he nudged with his head as he started making his way to the stairs that led back into the manor.

When they got up, Jason followed the sounds of voices coming from the kitchen.

Y/N’s eyes immediately took in the group, worried that someone would be missing.

No one was in full uniform. Tim and Damian were in sweats. Bruce’s cape and cowl were gone, but his full body armor was still on.

The three of them and Alfred were all gathered around Dick, who was sitting on the island counter shirtless with nothing but his black compression shorts on.

One of his left eye was black, there was dried blood below his nostrils, his bottom lip was split and swollen. But Y/N’s eyes were only looking at the wound on his side that Alfred was currently stitching. Clearly one of the Talons’ swords found an in.

When the family heard Jason and Y/N’s entrance, all eyes were on them.

Dick looked relieved.

But Bruce? He looked livid.

“What the hell were you thinking?”

He didn’t yell. No, instead his voice was low and even. And it scared Y/N more than yelling ever could.

But she was too busy looking at Dick’s injuries with concern.

Then her gaze raced to Tim and Damian, looking them up and down to try and assess if they had any injuries. But they seemed in good shape.

“Y/N!” Bruce snapped.

Finally she acknowledged him. 

“What?!” She growled in return.

“What were you thinking?”

“Bruce…” Dick warned quietly.

They had all seen Bruce get this way. And they all unfortunately had been on the other side of his wrath. They could see the telltale signs that Bruce was about to give one of his level-headed, but extremely disappointed speeches.

Except there was one big difference this time: Y/N wasn’t one of Bruce’s kids.

And by now, all of the boys had figured out that Bruce was feeling some kind of way about her. Even Damian had finally realized that Y/N wasn’t just an ally or fellow vigilante to his father.

“How about we all take in a deep breath and appreciate that none of us are dead?” Jason asked the group loudly. “Because we know that hasn’t always been on the case in the past…”

But Bruce ignored Jason and took a step to Y/N.

“You could’ve been killed,” he muttered quickly.

“I was trying to save innocent lives!” Y/N snapped.

“You should’ve told us as soon as you received the threat,” he countered.

“Why? So you could sideline me and make decisions about my fucking life?”

“We would have come up with a plan. One that did not involve you hot-wiring a car and driving to your death.”

“I was trying not to endanger anyone else, meaning all five of you!”

“And look how that ended,” Bruce answered darkly as she gesture to Dick, who was now stitched up and Alfred was putting a wrap around his torso.

“You can’t just shove your way into my life whenever you feel like it!” Y/N finally shouted at Bruce. “I was doing just fine before you added yourself to the situation.”

This wasn’t just about tonight anymore. The tension in their relationship had now flooded into the argument, finally reaching its boiling point.

“Tonight proved otherwise,” Bruce told her evenly.

But Bruce remaining too calm and showing no emotional reaction was only infuriating Y/N more.

“Hey!” Y/N yelled. “Just because I don’t put on a stupid costume and punch my way out of problems doesn’t mean you’re better than me. In fact, you would be screwed if it weren’t for me. You need me. You need me more than I need you.”

Bruce just glared at her.

“What? Nothing to say?”

“We can have a discussion when you stop behaving like a child.”

And it was finally what made Y/N snap.

She lunged at him.

What she planned on doing to him was beyond her. Everyone, including herself, knew she didn’t stand a chance against a petty fight with Batman. She probably couldn’t even land a punch if he let her.

Thankfully, she would never have to get that proven to her. Because Dick put a stop to it before it could actually start.

When he had moved off the counter and closer to their argument, she didn’t know.

But now Dick was finally intervening as he wrapped his arms around Y/N from behind her, pinning her arms to her side and pressing her back to his chest.

“A child?!” Y/N screamed as she tried to fight her way out of Dick’s grip. “Should I remind you that you fucked this ‘child’?!”

“Alright,” Dick warned her calmly. “That’s enough.”

“Let go of me!”

“Calm down,” he told her quietly.

Suddenly, Y/N remembered that Dick was injured, and he was injured because of her. And now she was thrashing against him, probably causing him harm and putting him at risk of opening the stitches Alfred had just finished.

“Fine,” she huffed. “I’m calm.”

But Dick waited a second or two before he decided to believe her.

When he let go, she lightly shoved him away from her and made her escape.

The whole family watched her leave, and felt the awkward tension that filled the room after she’d gone.

Tim looked shocked.

Jason glared at Bruce.

Damian seemed rather disappointed – in Y/N or his father, no one could figure out.

Dick eyed Bruce. “Great job,” he told him darkly.

Bruce just crossed this arms and sighed.

Dick gestured in the direction that Y/N went. “Aren’t you going to go after her?”

But he knew already from Bruce’s expression that he wasn’t going to anything of the sort.

“You know what, forget it.” Dick huffed before heading in the general direction that Y/N had escaped.

But Jason wasn’t going to let Bruce off the hook so easily.

“What the fuck is the matter with you?” He hissed.

“Stay out of it, Jason.”

“Stay out of it?” He mocked. “Yeah, it’s a little bit hard to do that when her safety has become a family matter.” Jason shook his head in disappointment and turned to leave, “I’m out of here.”

-----------

When Dick tried to retrace Y/N’s steps, he found the front door of the manor wide open. The sight was rather eerie for some reason. But Dick stepped onto the front of the manor and looked out at the land.

Had she made a run for the gate?

It wouldn’t be the first time tonight, clearly.

But after a few scans of the property, he eventually found her.

Despite the circumstances, Dick couldn’t help but smirk when he found Y/N sprawled on the great lawn of the manor, laying on her back and staring up at the stars.

He stood over her. “I’m surprised you didn’t make a run for it.”

“Oh, I tried,” she told him matter of factly. “Bastard’s already updated the security system from earlier tonight.”

“Believe it or not, that’s his way of saying he cares. Just ask Damian.” He slowly sat down on the lawn with her, but made sure to still give her some space.

“No. It’s his way of reminding me that he’s the one in control.”

Dick winced, knowing there was probably truth to that, too.

“He shouldn’t have said that to you,” Dick sighed.

Y/N scoffed. “What part?”  

He hesitated before clarifying. “You’re not a child.”

She went quiet, not expecting him to get right to it.

“Well, we’re the same age…so of course you’d say that.”

Dick rubbed his face, knowing this was a losing battle. Nothing he said on the matter would bring her comfort.

Y/N finally looked away from the stars and her face scrunched in guilt and worry as she took in Dick’s fresh bandage. There was a pinkish blotch that showed just how big the wound was.

Slowly she sat up and turned to him. “Are you okay?” She whispered shakily.

He grinned at her concern. “Believe it or not, this is nothing.”

But Y/N still reached forward and cupped his face. Her thumb traced around his black eye, but made sure not to put any pressure on the swollen skin.

Dick leaned into her touch, not bothering to try and hide the affection.

“This is exactly what I didn’t want,” Y/N mumbled.

Dick opened his mouth, but then quickly changed his mind and closed it again.

“What?” She pushed.

But before Dick would answer, he slowly moved into her space. Then he pressed his forehead to hers.

“Please, don’t do anything like that again.”

His approach was different, but it was clear Dick and Bruce felt the same way about the stunt she had pulled. 

Y/N was quiet.

“I understand why you did it. I really do.” He added quickly. “But just…” He paused and took in a shaky inhale. “Tonight scared the hell out of me, Y/N.”

“I’m sorry,” Y/N whispered.  

“I know you are. I saw it on your face as soon as you saw my injuries.” His eyes went dark. “But we can’t do things like that. We have to work together or this is all going to explode in our faces.”

Y/N thought over his words.

His hands went to cup her face.

“Deal?” He pushed.

She nodded.

Then Dick’s eyes moved down to her throat.The blistering red was already fading and being replaced by purple and blue bruising.

His mind flashed back to earlier, how he saw her dangling by her throat and unable to escape the Talon’s grip. The sight had caused him to rush into battle, not thinking of a plan before doing so. It went against everything Bruce had taught him. But seeing Y/N’s life in danger made him black out.

“We should get some ice for your neck,” Dick muttered quietly.

Then he looked down at her hand. It had stopped bleeding, but the cut looked painful and there was dried blood surrounding it.

“Fucker sliced it when he knocked my gun out of my hand,” Y/N mumbled when she saw Dick staring at it.

He eyed her suspiciously. “And I suppose Jason’s been helping with that, huh?”

She cringed. “Maybe…”

Dick just huffed and shook his head.

He started getting up, “Come on. Let me clean that cut and get some ice for your neck.”

But Y/N pulled him back down.

“Wait. Can we…Can we just stay for a bit?” She asked quietly, and then pointed up and laid back down in the grass to stare up at the sky.

Dick smirked and nodded.

He joined her, moving closer this time so their shoulders touched.

“You can actually see the stars out here,” Y/N sighed.

The smog and city lights of Gotham made them invisible.

But now they were far enough to see a few.

Dick thought about all the places he used to travel to with the circus. Some of them were so far removed from society that he could see every single star at night.

But he didn’t tell Y/N that this was nothing compared to those places.

Instead, Dick just slowly moved his hand and grabbed Y/Ns, interlacing their fingers. A part of him expected her to pull away. But she squeezed his hand and kept looking up.

—

Alfred found Bruce in the library, looking out the windows.

When he joined his side, he saw what Bruce was looking at: Dick and Y/N laying on the grass of the great lawn, stargazing.

“You’re disappointed in me,” Bruce said without taking his eyes off the two.

“I said nothing of the sort, Master Wayne.”

Bruce frowned. “You don’t have to.”

“She is not another charge, Master Wayne.” Alfred sighed. “Therefore you should not treat her as such.”

“I’m trying to keep her safe.”

“Why do you think she said nothing of the threat?” Alfred countered. “Why do you think she did not believe she could trust you?”

Bruce said nothing.

“You put the safety of Gotham over your own life every night, Master Wayne.” Alfred continued. “Yet you are so spiteful towards others who do the same.”

That finally made Bruce turn away from the window to look at Alfred.

“You owe her an apology,” Alfred finally confirmed. “Even if Master Dick has become rather good at cleaning up your messes.” 

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

Part 7

Let me know what you think – please, please, please.  

[findingjoynweirdstuff]

Dream SMP Recap (May 22/2021) - Pursuit of Peace

Quackity goes searching for new recruits to join him in Las Nevadas.

Foolish wonders if his way of life is really working towards peace, or if he needs a change.

Ranboo builds up the stronghold room for his Enderwalk experiments.

---

VOD LINKS:

Foolish

Quackity

Foolish

Ranboo

---

---

LAS NEVADAS: EPISODE THREE

---

Quackity rides a white horse and overlooks the construction site where the plans for Las Nevadas have been laid out. There is a montage that shows Quackity in New L’manburg, then hunting down Techno in the Final Control Room. 

Techno strikes him down and Quackity wakes up at Spawn with a bloody scar over one eye.

There is a rapid timelapse showing the buildings of Las Nevadas getting built one by one. Slot machine sound effects play in the background, then Quackity’s voice:

“Let’s start this hit list. Who’s on the hit list? Dream and Technoblade. If we go after Dream first, we’ll have government, and then Techno will go after us. So let’s just -- let’s just attack the problem from the goddamn root.”

Another rapid-cut montage of Quackity walking down the path to the prison, then a full view of Pandora’s Vault...

---

- Quackity is in the cell with Dream, telling him he’ll show him which weapon he’ll use to torture him this time. He puts an axe up on the wall. While Quackity is talking, Dream suddenly runs up to try and take the axe. Quackity hits him back and grabs it

- Dream cowers in the corner of the cell, pleading, while Quackity shouts at him

Quackity: “You do that again, and it’s over for you. Don’t fucking ever do that again. You understand?”

Dream: “Yes.”

Quackity: “Don’t ever reach for any of my fucking weapons ever again. Okay?”

Dream: “Yes, sir.”

- Quackity says these visits have gotten tiresome, and he’s busy. The Netherite barrier wall is put up between them and the lava. Dream tells him he doesn’t have to visit anymore.

Quackity: “No, I do, I do. This is what you don’t understand, Dream. This is what you don’t understand, okay? I do, I do have to come, every single day, so I can remind you, every bad shit you’ve ever done to me, to any other person on the server -- I have to come every day to remind you, otherwise I think you’ll end up forgetting, and I don’t think I want you to forget.”

Dream: “Forget -- I won’t forget -- I promise you I won’t forget!”

- Quackity asks him when was the last time he saw Technoblade. Dream says it was a little bit before he was put in the prison.

- Quackity asks what their relationship is like, and Dream describes Techno as one of his only allies. Quackity throws Dream a book and quill and tells him to get writing: a note to Technoblade to get him to visit the prison

- If he writes the note and doesn’t ask any questions, then he’ll give Dream a week’s break from the torture. Dream thinks he’s lying and refuses to write the note

- Dream suggests Sapnap instead and Quackity snaps. 

Quackity: “If you don’t do that shit, then we’re gonna have issues, alright? You know what? I’m kinda sick and tired of these fucking visits now that I think about it. I’m actually sick and tired! I don’t like ‘em anymore! They’re boring, they really don’t serve any much more purpose, I don’t like ‘em anymore Dream. So this is what we’re gonna do. You either write that goddamn note, or I will kill you. I am not joking, I will fucking kill you, I don’t care anymore, I don’t --”

“What is it, the book? Are you threatening me with the fucking revival book, Dream? Guess what, Dream? I don’t CARE anymore about the book! I don’t give a crap about the fucking book anymore! You understand me? I don’t give a shit! I’ve lost interest in that thing! At this point, the only reason I come and torture you so much, every single day, is merely as a reminder, because at the end of the day, no matter how many times I fucking torture you, that will never amount the amount of fucking evil you’ve done to this entire server and everyone in it--”

Dream: “It’s -- it’s ‘cause you LIKE IT! You LIKE torturing me!”

Quackity: “You know what? You know what? I might, I might. I don’t give a shit, I don’t care what it is, what the reason is, if you don’t write that goddamn note -- I’m going to kill you, Dream. I am going to kill you.”

- Dream says Sam wouldn’t let Quackity kill him, but Quackity points out that Sam is beyond the lava wall, and he can deal with Sam later if need be. Dream shouts that he wouldn’t.

- Quackity starts swinging the axe around, then starts stabbing Dream while Dream begs for him to stop. Dream agrees to write it. 

Quackity tells him what to write: 

“Dear Technoblade...”

-

Chapter One.

-

There’s a village at night. It’s raining. 

Easy job.

Foolish is there.

No innocents.

Big reward.

Easy money.

He draws his bow.

Peaceful heist.

He shoots the arrow into the village.

The village is ablaze and full of lava, people are screaming. Foolish rides off on a horse.

-

THE PURSUIT OF PEACE

-

- A bell rings. It’s Las Nevadas, and Quackity coughs, eating, while Sam comes through the door and sits down in front of him. Quackity asks where Sam found the villager running the restaurant. Sam says he just showed up, and Quackity scolds him for hiring someone random

- Quackity hands him a book with potential roles for candidates, people to join Las Nevadas. Sam says he thought he was going to hire George, Sapnap and Karl. They both pause before Sam says he was kidding

- Quackity asks Sam to tell him about Foolish. Sam has read that Foolish isn’t a good person. Quackity scoffs, but Sam says the two of them haven’t done anything inherently bad, and everything they do is just for justice

Quackity: (laughing) “Yeah, ‘justice.’”

- Foolish used to kill a lot of people. A job gone wrong written about in old history texts. Quackity still thinks he’d be a great option. 

- In the future, who’s going to protect them? Sam knows what happened with Quackity and Techno, and they need some force in their team. Sam is still skeptical

---

- Quackity greets Foolish at the summer home entrance, asking how he’s holding up after the Banquet, the places he’s affiliated with

- Foolish is done with contract work for Kinoko Kingdom. Quackity asks him if he’d like to join Las Nevadas. Foolish is honored, but he’s happy at his summer home. As Quackity presses him on it, Foolish keeps insisting

Quackity: “I know who you are, if that makes a little more sense...I’ve done my research, Foolish, I have my connections. I know what type of person you are, if you get what I mean...”

- Foolish tells him this peaceful life has worked

Foolish: “I believed peace could be found through the sword, you know? Fighting. That doesn’t work, okay. That just leads to fear, to power, to hatred, resentment, all of that, okay, it’s a mess. The only thing I did was accelerate war, okay? That doesn’t work. So I pushed back, I ran from it all, and this is good! I’m in a much happier place!”

- Quackity then says he wants to buy Foolish’s summer home from him...for one diamond. Foolish is taken aback as Quackity explains that for all the work Foolish has put into this, it’s just a build. 

No one stays here, they just admire and leave it. It is an empty shell that’s beautiful on the outside, but on the inside, it’s decaying, something that will disappear in time with no one to remember it...much like Foolish himself.

Quackity: “On the inside, everybody knows you’re...just a builder. And I was hoping, at some point, you would realize this...after I let you die at the Red Banquet.”

- Foolish is shocked. Quackity was behind those walls and he could have saved Foolish, but instead he watched him die. Foolish draws his trident, and Quackity asks if he would really take a life

Quackity: “I did it for you. I let you die because I wanted a better version of you.”

- He wanted Foolish to realize that this life as a builder would get him hurt, and he needs to go back to his old ways: feared, not a nobody

Foolish: “You threw away my life for some kind of fucking sales pitch!”

“Power...power...damn you, Qua -- what makes you think you’re any better, huh?! How’s that worked out for anyone else that’s been here? Dream? Wilbur? Schlatt? How’d that go, huh? What makes you any better, different, than them?”

- Quackity doesn’t need a sales pitch, his country is already big and other people would take the offer. 

The reason he came to Foolish is because Quackity sees himself in Foolish: someone who once saw peace and betterment of people as the way to live. It brought him nothing but suffering, and Foolish has potential

The offer still stands.

-

Chapter Two.

-

An old-fashioned documentary plays about: the Slime! 

Slimes are morphing elements that can morph into just about anything, even blocks. Is Dwane “The Rock” Johnson slime?

---

- Quackity glides down onto the roof of the restaurant in a ninja outfit and elytra, setting up redstone and TNT in the floor. There’s a bit of slime on the wall and he’s disgusted, running out. This is why he wants to kill the owner of this place

- He mines into the wall only for Charlie Slimecicle to pop out. Quackity knocks him out 

- When Charlie wakes up, he’s stuck in a hole and Quackity is interrogating him, asking who he is. Charlie says he is a definitely “goobless guy” who has many bones.

Charle: “Dap me up!”

- As Charlie describes what happened, it becomes clear that Charlie has overheard all sorts of passing conversations and knows a lot. He knows too much, and Quackity has to kill him

- Quackity asks what else he knows. Charlie gets distracted by the snow, which Quackity teaches him is called “coke”

- Charlie saw Foolish, the purple guy, he knows of a green guy, a red-shirt blond guy, a dead-but-not-anymore-guy. Quackity asks about the dead guy, who Charlie describes as “sooty”

- Quackity realizes that Charlie is an accidental spy and tells Charlie this is just a friendly greeting, he can give Charlie a home. He coughs again and tells Charlie that a spy is a friend, and Charlie will be his spy as the two walk off together

-

Chapter Three.

-

---

ONE WEEK BEFORE THE RED BANQUET

---

A purple-tinged POV of a person walking down the path through the Community House as Quackity and Sam talk in the background.

It’s been so long, he might be dead in the woods somewhere, but Quackity insists that Purpled is perfect for their country. Sam doesn’t think he would ever join, doesn’t think he would ever affiliate with anyone.

What about a job? 

The UFO is destroyed.

If Quackity offers him a one-time job, Purpled would take it. Once he has Purpled’s attention, Quackity can do something to reel him in to join the country.

Rowing to the skull base...

Sam says Purpled’s UFO is still there, but abandoned. He moved out along time ago. Quackity has a plan...

---

- Quackity and Sam are talking by Eret’s Museum. Sam is in charge of keeping an eye out for Purpled. Sam protests -- he’s the Warden and Quackity is breaking and entering, and he’s not supposed to break the law. 

- Quackity has a stack of TNT. He climbs up the UFO and starts placing TNT everywhere inside

- Purpled logs on right in front of him and immediately starts attacking, but stops when Quackity threatens to light the TNT, explaining that this was the best way to get in contact with him

- Quackity tells him about how messed up the server is, that the Egg is still an issue, and he needs Purpled’s help. 

- Purpled is in the middle of a mercenary job already, but Quackity will pay Purpled well. He has a new project getting him wealth, a prosperous country. To prove it, Quackity takes him there...

---

The Red Banquet happens. A fight breaks out, and they get the Eggpire to retreat.

---

- Quackity stands on top of the flower shop. He meets Purpled, dressed in his suit, and thanks him for his help with the Egg

- Purpled stops him to ask for his money. Quackity takes him up to the roof and shows him to a chest with the money in it. Purpled approves

- Quackity has something else for Purpled: he goes downstairs and flicks a lever, and Purpled’s UFO explodes

Quackity: “Purpled, your legacy is gone, and I’ve taken it from you. That’s the last piece of evidence that you were ever here, Purpled. That’s it. And you die a long with it. You die along with it -- YOU DIE ALONG WITH IT, PURPLED!”

- Purpled runs at Quackity, attacking him. Quackity stops him, saying he did it for him. Purpled has two choices: he can take Quackity’s life and run away with the money, and he disappears forever. Or, he could join Quackity.

- Quackity tells Purpled he has potential, why waste it away? If Purpled joins him, he can buy a whole fleet of UFOs to replace the one

- Quackity promises Purpled a plot of land in Las Nevadas

Quackity: “Take the gamble, Purpled...take the gamble, and you can change everything.”

- Silently, Purpled turns and walks away

-

Chapter Four.

-

- Fundy walks to his new house in the forest and goes to sleep. When he wakes up, he opens the door to find it’s a mesa biome. He’s upset and goes back inside, reassuring himself. When he opens the door again, he’s met with Quackity standing there

- Quackity invites him to a walk, saying Fundy was a hard person to find, but he found him

- Fundy asks what this place is, but Quackity says he should know it better than anyone. As they approach, the mesa is populated by bits and pieces of L’manburg. The wooden stilts of New L’manburg, fragments of the black walls, the Camarvan. Quackity reminisces with him

- Fundy isn’t sure that the drug equipment is necessarily “good memories,” but Quackity tells him no, everything is good memories

- As Quackity leads him towards an oversized, deteriorated version of Eret’s tower, he reminds Fundy of how L’manburg was blown up

- Quackity steps into the shadows

Quackity: “You know what, Fundy? Those memories don’t matter. None of that matters, Fundy. All these structures, all these things we built together...it’s here now, but it’s really gone, and none of it matters, nor will it ever matter...Fundy, if you think about it...you don’t matter. Along with all these structures and everything in ‘em, you’re gonna fade away just like it.”

- If Fundy doesn’t change things, he won’t matter, but Quackity has plans and he doesn’t have to fade away if he just joins Quackity

- Quackity gives him ten seconds to decide. He starts counting down...

- Fundy runs towards him into the darkness as Quackity reaches one and he wakes up suddenly in his bed

- He goes to his door and opens it. Outside is the regular spruce forest, and Quackity is there to greet him.

---

It’s the day Wilbur got a tour from Tommy. Wilbur walks over to his resurrection shrine and finds the “PROJECT NEVADAS” book, reading it.

---

Las Nevadas. Wilbur, revived, comes walking down the road. 

He comes face to face with Quackity.

---

- Foolish stands on top of his temple, wondering...was Quackity right? Is he wasting his time here, accomplishing nothing? He isn’t really doing anything to work towards peace

- He stands in the beacon light. Can Quackity do better than everyone else that’s tried before him? Quackity wasn’t all wrong in what he said

- At the Banquet, when he did try to help, he wasn’t strong enough. He can’t even control his own area -- people just walk in and he can’t stop them. Does he need to try something else?

- Maybe there’s a balance between both ends of the spectrum. It wouldn’t hurt to go look, try something different

- He starts making the journey through the Nether, then past Spawn until he reaches Las Nevadas. Just to visit and look around

- Can he really trust someone who let him die?

- Foolish spots Quackity across the road and goes to speak with him. The casino is still going through some repairs, as they found some flaws with the “math” and want to make sure everything is fair

- Foolish asks what Quackity wants from him. Quackity tells him it’s up to him what he wants to do, and it wouldn’t be fair of Quackity to tell Foolish that until Foolish accepts the invitation

- Quackity tours Foolish around the place, showing off the various buildings, like a restaurant and an area for weddings. Quackity sleeps in the Needle. There’s also a strip club also undergoing repairs and a massive Eiffel Tower

- They swim in the pool and Quackity asks Foolish to tell him a bit more about himself. Foolish says he worked for Kinoko Kingdom and Snowchester, and Quackity wants him to elaborate a bit on Kinoko

- Quackity tells Foolish that Las Nevadas is “its own, independent nation” and that you can’t depend on anyone. Quackity wants to depend on only himself. 

- Foolish asks about the people who might not like that it’s a nation. Quackity says he just doesn’t have a plan and he’ll deal with it when the time comes

- Quackity tells Foolish he’s welcome to bring others. Foolish notes that Quackity said he doesn’t like to “dwell,” and by coming here maybe Foolish can stop dwelling on the past as well

- Quackity tells Foolish that Foolish chooses who he wants to be. The last thing he wants with Foolish is bad blood

Quackity: “I take care of those who take care of me...why do you think I have no one around?”

- Foolish tells him he’ll have an answer tomorrow. Quackity gives him temporary tokens for the casino and says goodbye to go and sleep. Foolish thinks to himself in Las Nevadas

- That’s when Foolish spots Fundy on the road and the stream abruptly ends

- Ranboo is in his basement. He wants to move the lab equipment to the table area

- He has an experiment log book that he won’t show chat

- Ranboo reads the letter Foolish left for him about the littering at his summer home

- He has a plan for what experiments he wants to do. He’s changed his opinion on the Enderwalk, as it allows him to hear chat in the first place. He doesn’t think it’s necessarily a bad thing

- Ranboo reaches the stronghold portal room and starts lining the walls with iron blocks. He thinks that after today, he might be able to remember everything

- He creates a glass water tank in the corner and some brewing stands, as well as a lever-activated dispenser with arrows

- Ranboo hit a wall with the experiments and he wonders if this strange table might be the key to breaking through

- He realized something frightening:

Ranboo: “The Enderwalk isn’t a different version of me, it’s not a different me, it’s still...me. But, from what I gathered...it’s me with...all of my memories. Every. Single. One. And I realized that...so...I mean, who knows what could’ve happened? There could’ve been an entire other story that I’m not aware of.”

- Ranboo wonders if he wants to keep living in blissful ignorance or know everything that’s happened

- He opens the log: 

---

[In Ender]

Purpose of experimentation:

To understand

To learn

To remember

---

To remember is one of the purposes. There are 43 pages, and one of them had the solution.

If it gets rid of it completely, he could lose all of what he didn’t know from before. It could either be good or unknown.

- He tells chat he tricked them. They weren’t just random experiments -- he was going to solve it, and he thought he needed chat with him. 

He didn’t need a splash potion. He would use the arrow and go into the water tank, and that would be the solution.

- Ranboo goes back and blocks up the hall, deciding to only use it as a last resort if something happens.

Only if something happens.

He “welp” claps to end stream.

[starilicious]

ishq wala love (echo x gn!reader)

》 summary: reader comforts an insecure echo after the end of tbb episode 4 "cornered" about having mechanical parts as part of his body.

》 word count: ~2.2k

click here to read on AO3

》 warnings: slight sensory overload, mild panic attack (i think it could be classified as relatively vague in regards to the description), insecure echo about his body, a teensy bit of in universe swearing, lots of flufffff and a dash of angst here and there, no use of y/n [if i should add more warnings, please let me know!]

》 spoilers: extremely mild ones from tbb episode 4 "cornered"

》 a/n: hello! this is my first tbb fic, so i really hope i do the show, the characters, and the fandom justice hehe ^_^ over the past few days, i've become obsessed with tbb fics, particularly the echo x reader ones bc my GOODNESS this man is such a soft bean who deserves all the love in the galaxy. as a result, please enjoy this sleep-deprived frenzy of a fic that i wrote at 1 am and let me know your thoughts! :)

》 misc. notes:

• title of the fic is from the hindi song "ishq wala love" from the film student of the year. i've linked the song (in blue) with some pretty good english translations in case you would like to take a listen, but it isn't necessary for the fic–i just thought it fit well!

• i kind of got way too invested in building up the environment at the beginning, so apologies if it seems like a slow start! i just had to indulge in having the other characters there too <3

• please ignore the inaccuracies of the havoc marauder. i don't really know what the ship looks like, especially the living quarters, so i unintentionally ended up using the ghost from swr to guide my writing for that part.

• what the reader says at the end about the word in love in her native language is true. the language i'm referring to here is hindi, and we have several different words for love. in my very humble opinion, i think it’s one of the many characteristics of the language that makes hindi so sweet-sounding and poetic :)

• THANK YOU FOR 100 NOTES OMG AHHH YOU ALL ARE TRULY AMAZING 😭<333 (7/1/2021)

After Tech piloted the Bad Batch away from Pantora and safely entered hyperspace, you all decided to turn in to get some rest–or at least attempt to. With the bounty hunter scare, you and the boys figured it would be best to discuss what to do tomorrow morning, for Omega’s sake.

You tucked Omega in with her doll and offered her a comforting smile. “Don’t worry ‘Meg,” you said softly, running a gentle hand through her cropped blonde hair. “You’ll be safe, I promise. You’re stuck with us for life.”

Omega smiled sleepily at your teasing and held her arms out for a hug, one which you gladly indulge. “Sweet dreams, love,” you murmur as you let go. You shut off the lamp in her makeshift room and closed the curtains as you climbed down the ladder.

You turned around to find Hunter looking at you from his seat in front of the blinking controls. You raised an eyebrow as you plopped down in front of him unceremoniously, the exhaustion of the action-packed day catching up to you.

"You're good with her," he murmured as you both glanced at the light beige divider and you shrugged in response.

"Just looking out for her. Besides, you're not so bad yourself. She mimics your every move," you grinned. Hunter chuckled fondly as he recalled the memory where they were all stuck in the Kaminoan prison cell and Omega copied his every gesture.

The two of you lapsed in a comfortable silence as you mulled over the day's events, the hum of the ship thrumming beneath your feet.

"We'll be okay. It's tiring and difficult and none of us know how to raise a child, but we'll be okay," you said, breaking the quiet with optimism. You placed a hand on Hunter's shoulder and smiled. "Crosshair will be okay too. Have faith."

Hunter sighed but nodded in agreement as he put his hand over yours. "Goodnight," he said as he stood up, stretching his muscles.

"Sleep well."

You sat at the small table for a few more minutes to think before standing up yourself. You quickly checked in on Tech in the cockpit since he was on watch, and he immediately shooed you away, insisting you get some sleep. You had a feeling he only did so to optimize the ship in peace without distractions.

Nevertheless, you obliged and left him alone. Walking to the back of the ship, you completed your rounds. Wrecker was snoring loudly and you stifled a laugh. At least he was sleeping well–it was all you could ask for really. But frankly, you had no idea how Crosshair was ever able to sleep through it. Thinking about him and seeing his empty bunk made your heart pang in loss, but you were as determined as the rest of them to somehow bring him back. You had to.

You opened the door to Hunter and Tech’s shared room to find Hunter already sleeping soundly and you quickly left. With his enhanced senses, he was already a light sleeper, and compounded with his responsibilities as a leader, he rarely got any rest. You worried for him.

Last stop was your and Echo's room. You stepped in to find the light still on. Echo was sitting on the floor in front of your bunk, staring at the ground.

"Hey there handsome," you joked lightly in an attempt to get his attention and mask your unease. Echo usually only came near your bunk when something was wrong and after everything that happened today, it was safe to say you were concerned.

Echo didn't respond. Did he hear me? You make your way over to your lover and sit down in front of him. You place your hands on top of his.

"Echo, honey?" You said softly and finally finally he looked up at you. Your heart dropped into your stomach.

"Oh, darling," you breathed and you moved to his side to envelop him into a hug, his head resting comfortably in the crook of your neck. You didn’t say anything more–you saw the deep pain swirling in his eyes, the grief, the loss. The anger. You let Echo take the lead; you knew how difficult it was to wrangle raging thoughts and muster them into words.

You didn’t know how much time passed of you two sitting on the floor, breathing each other in before Echo spoke.

“Today… when we went on the supply run, I was dressed as a droid.”

You bit your lip, knowing exactly where this was going. But you didn’t interrupt, letting him continue. Your thumb rubbed absentmindedly on his arm as you listened.

“That vendor we were talking to wouldn't take what we had. And then he saw me,” Echo took a deep breath. You stayed quiet, holding his hand in a manner that you hoped soothed his anxieties at least a little bit.

“Hunter sold me as a droid to him. I-I know he doesn’t see me as a droid. I know that. But–” Echo’s voice cracked. He cleared his throat of the emotion building up. Echo didn’t know how to express what he wanted to say. He didn’t even want to speak it aloud–that would make it feel too real. And Echo severely doubted he could handle the heartbreak. Can I do this?

“Cyar’ika,” he murmured and you hummed in response. Echo pulled away from you, his hand still in yours. Now or never. “I need you to be completely, absolutely, 100% honest with me,” he whispered. Echo steeled his expression, doing his best to hide how terrified he truly was.

You nodded because of course you would be. When were you not?

But the way Echo gazed at you threw you off. Something was wrong, very wrong. You were almost scared of what he would say next, but you made a gesture for him to say what was on his mind. Clearly, this was important.

“Do you really want to be with me when I’m just–” Echo struggled with the last few words and you strained to pick them up with how they caught in his throat. “–a pathetic, disgusting, hybrid machine?” It’s out, I said it. I said it. Echo felt like he couldn’t breathe, the pressure on his chest too much, too much. He stared down at the floor, face flooded with shame.

You stared at him in blatant disbelief, eyebrows furrowed and mouth open from a shocked laugh. No no no Echo. You’re nothing of the sort. You didn’t move. Echo’s breath hitched as he looked back up at you, broken and open and raw.

“Don’t lie, please don’t lie to me. I know there's no way you could ever love me when I… when I look like this,” Echo whispered, but he may as well have shouted with the way the blood was rushing through your ears.

And then something in you snapped.

You removed your hands from his and placed them on his cheeks, pulling him in until your foreheads were touching. “Echo, you need to listen to me,” you instructed and heaved a breath as you tried to sort your own rushing thoughts into articulated words. But the effort was futile as your careful speech turned into a haphazard and passionate stream of consciousness.

His eyes glistened with unshed tears and your heart broke into pieces. Echo gave you all of his attention. What are you going to say? He didn’t want you to agree, but he would understand if you did. Echo felt disgusted with himself. The walls were closing in on him. Breathing was getting harder.

“You are the best damn thing that has ever happened to me. I don’t give one flying banthashit about any of your mechanical parts. If anyone ever says anything about them, they’re di’kuts and you can send them my way because I will not hesitate to punch some sense into them,” you spat with pure determination, not even noticing the Mando’a slip. After being surrounded by clones for so long, you absorbed bits and pieces of the language. You didn’t even register how Echo picked up on the word, much too focused on getting your point across. You were a person on a mission and nothing would stand in your way.

The knot in Echo’s stomach was loosening a bit, the storm in his mind beginning to break. The walls were a bit farther from him. He wasn’t drowning in his own presence anymore.

“Because you know what? You’re still my Echo. You’re a man, my dear. Not a machine. You never were, and never will be. These parts?” you gestured to his scomp link, his legs, the cybernetic implant in his head. “They mean nothing. Absolutely nothing. Don’t focus on them.”

You smiled sadly as you rubbed your thumbs gently on his cheeks. “I fell in love with you, Echo, not your body. I love the way you make me laugh, the way you comfort me, the way you cry with me. As much as I kriffing hate that you have been through so much pain because of those damned Separatists, I’m grateful for the fact that I’m in love with a man who would do anything for his family, for his brothers.”

A tear slipped down your cheek as you remembered Fives coming back home from the Citadel but no Echo in sight. You would never admit it to anyone, but you swore a piece of you had died that day.

Echo felt like he was going to cry. The pressure that had been building up in his chest was releasing. He could breathe again, slowly, slowly. His only focus was you, was your words. The artificial lights didn’t seem to be as glaring now. They were softer, calmer.

“Echo, my love, even through it all, you not only survived, but you came out on top, victorious,” you paused, briefly overcome with how much love and gratitude you had for this wonderful man. “You came back to me, Echo, and you’re as handsome as ever. I have never stopped loving you, and never will. Don’t you ever forget that darling.”

Echo drew in a shaky breath. The harsh cold of the floor grates was biting into his skin, but he didn’t care. It grounded him as much as your warm touch on his face. He could breathe again. My cyar’ika.

Your fiery and passionate emotional speech came to an end as you stared into your lover’s eyes. There was so much more you could say, but you feared words would not be able to convey it all. You hoped your eyes would be enough to soothe his pained and tired soul.

Silent tears trailed down Echo’s face and you gently brushed them away as you pulled him into a tight hug. It was all you could do to not cry yourself. Echo was always so strong–you admired him for it.

“Thank you,” he whispered, voice thick with appreciation and love. You didn’t say anything. There was no need to. The charged air between you both was enough. The two of you sat in a comfortable silence on the floor of the Havoc Marauder, deep in your own thoughts.

“Ishq wala love,” you muttered fondly after some time, still caught up in your own mind.

“Hm?” Echo questioned, curious as to what you said. The soft sound gently pulled you out of the clouds and back to the man in your arms as you attempted to explain.

“There’s a phrase in my native language, ishq wala love. You see, in Basic, there’s just one word for love, which is love. But back home, we have several different words for love, each with their own subtle, but distinct meaning,” you blew out a breath as you tried to figure out what to say. Echo was hanging on to your every word.

“There’s… there isn’t really a direct translation, but the best I can come up with is that the love that we have, ishq, is much deeper than just romantic love. It’s deep and strong and pure and unyielding. It–it reminded me of us,” you admitted, a bit sheepish. Your fingers dance along Echo’s scomp link, nervous.

Echo took a moment to process your explanation before smiling. You felt your heart stitch itself back together again after seeing that beautiful smile. You would do anything to keep it on his lovely face.

“Ishq wala love,” he echoed, his pronunciation a bit off. You giggled in response. “Close enough,” you teased and Echo simply beamed. You leaned in and planted a chaste kiss on his soft lips, rubbing his metal arm gently.

Echo stood up then, offering a hand to you to help you up. You took it and he led you over to the bunk you shared together. You both quickly climbed in, relaxing in the warmth of the well worn blankets and the other’s presence.

Your head was near his chest and you could hear the soothing dull sound of his steady heartbeat. Your arm curled over his waist protectively and your head rested comfortably on his flesh arm. Echo shut off the light and you were ensconced in black velvety darkness.

“Goodnight, cyar’ika.”

“Sweet dreams, Echo. I’ll be here, waiting for you.”

please consider reblogging! it really helps me and is super encouraging ^_^

[weelittleweasley]

may i sit? (h.p.)

prompt requested by @oh-no-whoopsie: from what you were taught, slytherins and gryffindors weren’t supposed to get along, much to your dismay. a certain gryffindor had caught your eye and you desperately wanted him to know who you were. when you are having a bad day, you receive comfort from an unexpected guest...

pairing: harry potter x fem! slytherin reader

warnings: crying, anxiety, isolation, loneliness

word count: 2.4k

It was never explained to you as a first year student, but you had always followed the unspoken rule that Slytherins and Gryffindors had a merciless rivalry. You feared being ostracized by your house if you were to befriend a Gryffindor that someone had a vendetta against, so instead you focused on maintaining friendships within your house. This way, there was no risk of being outcast and strengthened the relationships with those who were similar in personalities to you.

However, you did feel like your lack of interaction with some Gryffindors made you miss out on exciting experiences. Since you were friendly with the Weasleys, you didn’t get invited to common room parties that they threw, you didn’t get invited to study sessions with Granger in the library, you didn’t hang out in the courtyards with Longbottom. You just stuck to your non-Gryffindor friends and hoped that it would be enough. 

But you did find days where you would longingly find yourself watching as Hermione Granger looped her arm with Harry Potter’s, throwing her head back in laughter at something he had said in passing. He would lightly smile as he watched his best friend laugh before shaking his head and rolling his eyes. His eyes...what would it be like to stare into those beautiful green eyes...

Only problem was when Harry did catch your eyes, your cheeks flushed a bright crimson red as you darted you gaze away from him. It was like it felt wrong to look at him. If someone caught you stealing longing glances at him, that they would tell everyone else in Slytherin house and that would be the breaking point. 

So instead of letting yourself look at him and him to you, you would bury your head into some other business and brush aside the thoughts that crept into your mind of what it would be like for the Chosen One to speak your name on his lips. 

You thought it was silly for you to have a crush on Potter. First of all, majority of your house didn’t like the boy at all. In fact, they found him arrogant and self-absorbed, and immature. Secondly, you had little to no interaction with him through out your five years with him at Hogwarts. Maybe once you bumped into him at the library and muttered a sorry to each other, but nothing more. No real conversations. Even though you craved to know more about him than just general knowledge, you would remind yourself that it wasn’t in Slytherins’ nature to befriend Gryffindors. 

And again the cycle continued of being with your non-Gryffindor friends, watching Gryffindors’ friendships blossom, daydream of what could be, sigh over Harry Potter, distract yourself from Harry Potter, and repeat. 

It became exhausting at times. Constantly having to tell yourself no to something that you really wanted. Something that you knew you would enjoy. You knew that you would get along well with people like the Weasleys and Granger and Potter and Thomas and Longbottom. It didn’t matter that your house was different from theirs. But the fear of not being accepted by your own house consumed you to the part where it would drive you to tears on occasion.

Loneliness was always a fear of yours. You had always liked to surround yourself with people you loved, friends, family, or both. It was their presence that made you feel warm and comforted. But some days, it was hard to not feel alone. There were days where you wished your house wasn’t so competitive or pretentious. You wished that your house could let down its guard and actually enjoy school for what it was rather than view it as a jungle, a competition. Hunter and prey. Keeping up with it all was exhausting and you were exhausted to say the least.

Wallowing in your pity, you found a small bench in the outdoor hallways of Hogwarts, knees pulled up to your chest as you rested your back against the concrete wall, the cool temperature calming your warm body. You sniffled and wiped small tears that fell from your eyes as you cried quietly to yourself.

You loved your Slytherin house friends, you really did. They were fiercely loyal to you and would defend you at the drop of a hat. They were funny and witty and charming and intelligent and you loved being around them. But sometimes, you wished that they would be more open to the idea of being around new people. People who were different in nature, but majority of them protested. Pansy would always argue, “We have everything we need in each other, (Y/N). Why would we go out and make friends with others when we are perfectly fine on our own?” She earned the nods of a few heads as you sighed in defeat.

Maybe to see what being with others with different interests and wants and desires in life would be refreshing. Being around Gryffindors could bring a new sense of excitement into your life. It could be good; a change. A new start. 

But that wasn’t realistic. You knew that if you became friends with a Gryffindor secretly, your friends would give you hell for it. They would implore you on why you needed someone else, a Gryffindor, as a friend. Especially if it were someone like-

“Are you alright?” a voice interrupts your thoughts as you sniffle and look in the direction of the voice.

Standing a little down the hall a couple feet away was the boy with those captivating green eyes. Harry Potter wore a concerned expression on his face as he watched you wipe away the tears that gently fell from your eyes. His green eyes stared into yours, hoping that you would answer him. 

Your heart beats a little quicker at the sight of him and you blinked a few times to make sure this wasn’t some sort of hallucination or prank being pulled on you. Quickly snapping out of it, you spoke, “Yeah, yeah,” wiping your eyes, “I’m fine. Thanks.”

Harry took a few steps closer to you, very cautiously as to not make you skittish. He knew that his presence could make some people wary or uncomfortable, so he tried to approach the situation of an already crying girl very carefully. “You sure?” he implores. “I don’t like seeing people alone. Especially if they’re upset...”

His concern for you was endearing, especially since you had barely spoken to each other before. You wipe your nose on the cuff of your jumper as you shake your head. “It’s alright. I’m used to it at this point, I guess,” you shrug, the words falling from your mouth as Harry gives you a concerned look. You did this often? his eyes seemed to ask as you shook your head. “Not like that,” you let out a light laugh. “I guess I’m just...” you start before realizing who you’re talking to. With a gulp and a look at him, you shake your head, “Never mind, it’s not important anyway.”

Before you can rise from the bench to excuse yourself to go to the Slytherin common room and pull yourself together, Harry stops you. “You don’t have to go,” Harry sticks his hands out, preventing you from rising. “I mean, I’m the one who interrupted you, I should be going,” he insists as you give him a small smile. “But I can assure you, whatever you were upset about isn’t something to brush off if it made you sad enough to cry,” he gives you a sad smile. 

You sigh and shake your head. “You’re right,” you admit with a surrendering smile as Harry returns one. “But you don’t need to leave either. This isn’t my hallway,” you joke as he gives you another smile.

The two of you watch each other for a moment, in silence, taking the other in. Harry notices how he’s seen you around a few times and maybe chatted to you before, but didn’t know you well enough to strike up conversation. But for some reason, Harry felt compelled to sit and talk with you tonight. It was like he was supposed to stumble upon you like this. Harry clears his throat. “May I sit?” he asks quietly.

Your heart flutters and an involuntary smile appears on your cheeks as you nod your head. “Of course,” you scoot over on the bench so Harry can sit next to you comfortably. 

Harry takes the spot next to you with a smile and turns toward you as you lean back on the concrete wall. “I’ve seen you around before, but I don’t think I know your name,” he speaks. “I’m Harry,” he extends his hands to you, offering a shake.

With a small smile, you accept his gesture. “I’m (Y/N). It’s nice to meet you, Harry,” you tell him as he nods. “You don’t have to feel obligated to sit with me because you walked in on me crying though,” you try to excuse him, but Harry profusely shakes his head.

“No, no, no,” he speaks. “I want to make sure you’re not alone. In case you need someone to talk to...” he offers as you give him a sad smile. “We don’t need to talk if you don’t want to though. I can sit here and you can talk and I can listen. Or you don’t need to talk and I can distract you. Or we can just sit here until you feel better,” he gives you a happy smile.

Could the boy be any more perfect? You practically swooned at his words, he was so thoughtful to someone he had literally just formally met seconds ago. And yet he was so kind and gentle with you. The thought alone of him wanting to be there for you was overwhelmingly genuine. For someone with as much status and popularity as Harry, you didn’t expect him to be so down to Earth. 

You quietly thank Harry as he nods, understanding completely. The two fo you sit in silence for a little while as you collect your thoughts, feelings, and emotions before sighing. “I guess,” you start. “I feel a little lonely sometimes,” you admit to the Gryffindor. Harry nods his head, completely understanding. “I have great friends and a wonderful family,” you tell him, “but sometimes, I can’t help but feel like I’m so lonely here.” Harry hangs onto every word that comes out of your mouth, intently listening to what you have to say. “I do like being a Slytherin. Both of my parents were,” you tell him. “But I want to branch out and be friends with other people who aren’t Slytherin.”

Harry gives you a puzzled look. “What’s holding you back?” he asks.

Sighing, you speak, “I know that not all Slytherins are fond of other houses. Especially Gryffindors,” you look at Harry who just chuckles. “I fear that if I do become friends with others, especially Gryffindors, I’ll be ostracized by my friends in Slytherin,” you confide in him.

Harry shakes his head and sighs. He understood in a way about what you were going through. The pressure could be a lot for someone and he hated the look on your face as you expressed your situation to him. Harry wished he could make things better, he really wanted to. “Can I give you a bit of advice?” he speaks as you nod. “Let’s say you do become friends with a Gryffindor,” he says, “and your Slytherin friends do that to you,” he continues as you clench at his words, “and I’m not saying they will,” he retaliates before continuing, “but if they do...(Y/N), those people aren’t your friends.” Harry gives you a soft look as you sigh, knowing that he had a point. “Friends don’t come along with terms and conditions,” he speaks. “They are friends. They are supposed to support you. Not support you when it suits their best interest.”

His words were very true and carried a wise beyond his years weight. But it was illuminating to you in a way you didn’t think of before. His insight was much needed. “You’re right, Harry,” you sigh as he smiles, his advice succeeding in bringing you clarity. “Thank you.”

He beams, “Surely.” You lightly chuckle. “With all that being said,” he starts. “I hope you know that we can surely be friends, (Y/N).” Your eyes widen and mouth lightly falls open. He wanted to be friends? Was this a sympathy move or did he genuinely want to get to know you? “I hope you don’t think I’m saying any of it because of the circumstances,” he clarifies, “I think you’re lovely.”

Your cheeks slowly burn as a smile inches its way onto your lips. He thinks I’m lovely. His kind words mean more to you than he’ll ever know. You give him a shy look before accepting, “I’d like to be friends, too, Harry.”

Harry smiles and for a moment, you think there’s a similar rosy hue on his cheeks. “Brilliant,” he speaks quietly. Carefully, he places a hand on yours, “I’d like to be there for you, (Y/N). Whenever you need it.”

The contact of his skin on yours makes your stomach do a flip as you gulp, eyes glued on his hand placed delicately on yours. Slowly, you look up at Harry who pushes his glasses up on his face as they fall on the bridge of his nose. He was quite adorable, wasn’t he? “The same goes for you, Harry,” you tell him. “I’m here.”

You gently squeezed his hand as you saw him inhale deeply. The two of you looked into each other’s eyes, observed the way they flickered and the way the colors danced. Harry’s eyes felt comforting and familiar; like you trusted him already for some odd reason. But you relished in the feeling of this new found comfort. 

The two of you gently peeled your hands away from each other before Harry clears his throat. “Before I saw you, I was on the way to the kitchens to snag a snack for Ron and I. Would you like to join me?” he asks with a light smile.

Nodding your head with a smile, you speak, “Sounds like fun. Plus, I know where the house elves keep the fresh biscuits.”

Harry chuckles, “I think we’re going to be good friends, (Y/N).”

The two of you laugh and start making your way to the kitchens. But you had to agree with Harry. You had a really good feeling about this friendship.

[weeb-writor]

Bakugou Meets his Future Kids

Hiya! Long time no see! So I’ve been gone a while and today I was actually supposed to post the last part in the Aizawa mini series. That wont happen today because unfortunately even though me and my whole family have been super safe and only go to work and home I did test positive for Covid-19. I'm okay though just really drained and this was easier for me to finish. I'm hoping to have the Christmas fic up by the 28th at the latest, so sorry about that! For now I hope you can enjoy this! The kids do call reader mommy but there is no assigned gender! Anyone, any gender can be a mom!

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Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

He meets his kids from the future in a troubling way

Words: 1896

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It was supposed to be a normal day and it was for about 10 seconds. About 11 seconds in Bakugou had somehow been wrapped into a trip to the mall with most of the class. Bakugou prided himself on being a strong immovable boulder but when you asked could he come… lets say he had a temporary weakness. Now here he was at the food court as you all argued over what to eat.

“Is there a place that sells soba?” Todoroki asked.

“Even if there is, we aren't eating there! You always eat that!” Mina said, pointing at the boy who looked back a little deflated.

“I think we’ll be okay getting soba, his obsession with soba is super cute!” you said with a small laugh. This had Bakugou craning his neck. Only ever eating one thing was not cute, how could you think that!

“Like hell we are, Come on Y/n were getting a burger.” Bakugou said standing and pulling you away you didn't get far before you all heard someone crying and yelling. You and the rest of the class looked at each other once before you dashed in the direction of the cries. Arriving on the scene you see 3 kids surrounding a boy who was crying while one was holding back a girl who seemed to be crying in anger. 

“Hey what the hell is going on here?” Kirishima said in a scolding tone. The kids turn around and pale probably recognizing the group of soon to be Pro-Heroes.

“Nothing we should be going, later losers.” The kids said quickly scattering into the crowds at the mall. The girl quickly ran to the boy's side still crying.

“It's alright, you don't have to cry, I have a first aid kit if that helps.” You said trying to console the kids. At your voice both of the kids looked up at you before tackling you in a crushing hug, sobbing even more. You looked up at your class confused; they only shrugged at you.

“Mommy! I'm sorry, I took Hiroyuki from school and we followed you and then we got hit with that big scary guy's quirk and then we ended up here and we been here for like 2 days. I'm sorry!!” The girl cried, rubbing her eyes furiously.

“Uh um sweetheart, I'm sorry you got lost but my teachers will help you. We’ll find your parents I promise.” You said rubbing her checks.

“But you're our mommy.” The young girl sniffled.

“I'm not, you must be confused. I'm L/n.” You said, smiling at them as they seemed to tear up.

“That's not funny mommy, stop joking right now.” The girl said, shaking her head, more tears spilling from her eyes.

“Sorry kid they aren't joking, L/n doesn't have any kids.” Denki said, crouching to meet her eyes.

“Are you mad cause we didn't listen? Are you gonna send us away?” The girl said, beginning to cry even more.

“Stop making my sister cry!!” The boy said with tears in his eyes, the tears were short lived as explosion went off all around them. Everyone looked at Bakugou who was quietly watching

“It's not me, it's one of them.” He said with his teeth gritted. The class didn't have time to figure it out as the explosion stopped and they saw their teacher next to them.

“It’s always something with you guys. Hey kids I'm gonna need you to come with me so we can sort this out.” He said offering his hands to them which they didn't hesitate to take. The walk back to the school was relatively short and quiet. Now they were all sitting outside of recovery girls office waiting on some kind of news.

“I think i know what's happened. They kept calling you mom, right?” You nodded at her with a small smile.

“Well while I was trying to heal them I asked them some questions to make sure their heads were on straight. Their answers were very much incorrect to us but also not completely insane. For Example Dynamight, Deku, and Shoto are all top 10 heroes. The league of villains are no more and I'm dead. I examined their bodies and it seems they were hit with a time travel quirk from the looks of it. Not sure when it will wear off but my best recommendation is for them to remain under L/n and Easerheads care, I will check for any signs of it wearing off, every other day.”

“Huh? Is Easerhead their dad! Do you and L/n get married in the future?! That's kind of kinky…” Mineta said with a gross smile

“No, you creepy child. It seems they do like him though.” Recovery girl said with a sigh. You thanked her and went into the room.

“Hey, did recovery girl explain what happened to you guys?” You said as you approached them.

“Uh huh she said we went in the past to where you and papa were students. Like in the pictures on the walls.” The girl said.

“Mhm very good, so can you tell me your names? Then we can go hang out with my friends and eat something!” You said with a smile.

“Hiroyuki…” the boy mumbled.

“I’m Kaori!” The young girl cheered at you. You thanked them and guided you out the door and found your friends and teacher waiting. You led them to the dorm lunge where food was waiting on them.

“So which one of you have an explosion quirk?” Kirishima said as the kids were eating.

“We both do, kind of.” The girl said absentmindedly. “Mom says I make explosions from the heat of the food I eat, I like spicy stuff.” She said with a smile.

“Oh okay cool! But no spicy stuff for you.” Denki laughed at the girl who wasn't exactly happy.

“What about you, little guy?” Sero asked the younger one. The little boy looked at Sero before burying his face in his hands and shaking his head.

“Yuki, has a really cool quirk! Mom says he works like a gas stove! He leaks this stuff that's like propane! Then he can ignite it based on how he is feeling! Angry or emotional means bigger explosions! It comes from his pores or his hand.” The girl chimed in for her brother. He was upset at her words and ran to Aizawa.

“Sorry, we didn't mean to make you uncomfortable!” Mina said as she couched to the level of the boy who further hid his face into Aizawa legs.

“It's okay, kid, Bakugou has an explosive quirk, it's cool!” Denki said with his flashy smile.

“We don't care about that old man's quirk!” The girl said fresh tears on his face.

“What’d you say you little brat?! I’m not an old man!” Bakugou roared back to Kaori.

“You are a mean old man and I hate you! Its all your fault I'm stuck here without my real mom and papa! I hate you! I hate you so much Papa!” The little girl roared back before running back to you crying.

“Papa?” Kirishima echoed quietly.

“Kaori, you shouldn't yell at people or tell them you hate them it's a mean and strong word.” You said crouching down to her level and stroking her cheek.

“B-but it's all his fault. He said me and Hiroyuki were weak and and we couldn't do much because we're kids and it's best for us to stay out of Hero’s way! Like were burdens!” She said growing further agitated.

“And I was right, you followed your mom and you both got hurt when you shouldn't have been near the battle anyway.” He said with a frown.

“But that doesn't mean we are useless and can't do anything by ourselves! WE ARENT DUMB!” She yelled back at him.

“Future me didn't say you were dumb, he, I just want you to be safe. It's best for you and your brother to stay out of the way for now. However, that doesn't mean your a burden or dumb.” Bakugou said seriously. The little girl didn't say anything further and just threw herself into her your arms. Hiroyuki came from in between Aizawa’s legs and also threw himself at you.

“Okay enough mingling for today I guess, time for bed! I’ll be right back guys.” You said as you carried both kids off to your dorms with surprising grace. Once you were gone the group turned to Bakugou.

“Papa, huh Bakugou?!” Denki said with a chuckle.

“It's too surprising! I didn't even know you had a crush on L/N!” Mina said with a pout.

“Really? it was pretty obvious Bakubro had a crush though. Literal tiny explosions go whenever L/n is near.” Kirishima said with a cute head tilt.

“The hell they do.” Bakugou said angrily.

“No they do, I’ve had to stop them a few times now.” Aizawa said with his weird grin.

“I can't believe it though, they are so cute! Kaori is so much like you and I cant believe Hiroyuki’s quirk is so kickass!” Sero said rubbing the back of there necks.

“Well of course they got kickass quirks. With me and L/N as parents there’s no way they wouldn't!” Bakugou said flushed red.

“I'm just glad you cleared up everything with them. It would be pretty bad if they went back mad at the future you, or thinking something damaging like that.” Deku said with a sigh. Finally you were back with no kids, at least it looked like you didn’t have kids.

“So this parenting shit is pretty hard!!” You said as two figures came from behind your legs. They blushed before pointing to Bakugou and then back at your dorm.

“Use your words.” Bakugou said, cocking an eyebrow at the flustered kids.

“Story, Papa.” Hiroyuki slurred out.

“I'm sorry for saying I hate you… I didn't mean it.” The young girl said softly

“You better be, that's a strong word. Now let's go to bed.” Bakugou said nonchalantly as he picked up both kids and walked back to your dorm. The kids remained with you two for about a week and half. You learned lots like you and Bakugou have twins on the way and still want at least one more. Hiroyuki loves Aizawa because he is able to keep his quirk under control around him and they both have an addiction to cats. Bakugou is indeed amazing at everything except anger management. When they left it was during one of your cuddle sessions and boy did you cry like a baby.

BONUS:

“It’s been almost 2 weeks, where could they be?? What if they’re…” You said into Bakugou's chest.

“They’re fine, okay? Our brats are tough so wherever they ended up in time doesn't matter they’ll kick anyone's ass.” Bakugou said, trying to console you. You didn't get a chance to respond before you dogs went crazy at the knock at the door. You yelled for however it was to come in and you thought your mind was playing tricks on you.

“Don't worry they are just drowsy.” Aizawa said with the two kids in his capture weapon trailing behind him. Bakugou was the first to move and was on his knees, in tears in seconds.

“You idiots! Never, ever do that again.” He said hugging him like his life depended on it.