#i really should stream this so someone else can laugh at my stumbling ass-first into the worst decisions

[carmsgarms]

I think I did the creche in the LEAST smart way possible LMAO

Its on brand for my durge. They're not very bright.

I went STRAIGHT into the part of the creche where you enter the Astral prism. Apparently if you try to kill the Guardian and side with the Gith, it has the exact same outcome, the guardia is just a little more pissed at you. So I still came back to a creche full of aggro gith.

I did not go to any other rooms before that because I'm stupid LMAO. So I went to go see if I could still do the Zaithisk ((lord help me if it's spelled wrong)) and I had to kill the doctor and all of the students in that area. Speak with dead didn't do anything on anyone. We still tried to get purified but Laezel almost died after I failed every single dice roll. I had to kill all the people in the egg room.

I said I was going to play a run where I made all the worst decisions but this one was genuinely on accident because I forgot where things were since I've only done the creche ONCE 🤣

[shinysam29]

First Love - Yosuke x Claude (OC)

Lord this took forever and idk how to feel about it. Anyways, enjoy this.

“Come on now, don’t bring her into this!” Yosuke exclaimed with red cheeks as Yu teased him about his latest crush on this first year. “She’s just cute, leave me alone. It’s not like you haven’t been drooling over Chie. That’s where I don’t understand you man.”

“I’m just glad I’ve kept my crush hidden from you both.” Claude said with a smile, blue eyes shining behind his glasses when Yosuke met his gaze.

“Huh? You have a crush on someone?!” Yosuke slammed his hands on the table when he jumped up, leaning over the table. “Spill it, Claude! Who’s the lucky girl?”

“Girl?” Claude tilted his head, pursing his lips a bit in confusion. “It’s- It’s not a girl…”

“What- OH!” Yosuke’s eyebrows shot towards the sky as he leaned back away from Claude with a sudden sense of uncomfortableness. “You, uh- You’re into guys?”

“… I am…” Claude frowned a bit as he noticed Yosuke’s instant reaction to the reveal of this fact. “Is there something wrong with that..?”

“What? Pssh! No!” Yosuke’s words seemed forced and nervous as he waved his hand at Claude. “You can like what you like. Just stay away from my ass, okay?”

“Yosuke!” Yu furrowed his eyebrows as he slapped Yosuke’s head. “Idiot! Don’t be rude.”

“Sorry! It’s just- I want him to know I don’t swing that way!” Yosuke exclaimed with red cheeks as his heart rate sped up. “No offense Claude. I hope you-“

Yosuke’s words died on his tongue as he looked at the distraught look on Claude’s face. His blue eyes brimmed with tears and his freckled face was red. Yosuke winced at the sharp twang in his chest at the sight of him.

“Hey- Claude I didn’t mean it like that. It was a joke.” Yosuke forced a laugh as he reached across the table without thinking. “Don’t cry… You better not cry!”

Claude yanked his hand back when Yosuke grabbed it, Yosuke himself yanking his back also as his heart pounded in his chest. Yosuke watched as Claude stood up quickly, knocking his chair over in the process before a few tears fell.

“Stop it.” Claude’s voice cracked with sorrow, tears streaming down his cheeks now. “Stop it! You’re just like everyone else! You’re just going to shove me away and call me names all because I like something a little different! You’re going to treat me like shit all because I love a man. Well, maybe I don’t even like my crush anymore. Maybe I’m over it because he’s just like the rest of the people who always picked on me for who I was.”

“Claude-“ Yosuke reached out to him again but Claude slapped his hand away.

“I can’t believe I let myself fall for you.” Claude’s words were cold as his tears continued to fall while gathering his stuff. “Just leave me be. Don’t talk to me.”

Claude finished grabbing his things and ran towards his home. Yosuke stood there watching in shock as Claude’s words registered in his brain.

“What?” Yosuke couldn’t grasp what he was thinking, the idea of Claude liking him so unreal it was fucking up his thought process.

“Dude, that was so uncalled for.” Yu spoke in an angry tone. “Claude likes you, Yosuke. You just kinda took that knowledge and threw it in a shredder with your statement.”

“He- No way!” Yosuke’s face was more red as he looked at Yu. “You’re being for real?!”

“Yes, idiot. You really didn’t notice? Your dumb joke probably hurt way more than you think.” Yu said as he stood up. “I’m going to try and find Claude. You should probably go back to work.”

“What? No! I want to find him!” Yosuke asked with a red face, heart aching. “He- I need to apologize!”

“Then do it. Go apologize.” Yu said, looking at Yosuke. “And maybe take some time to think for yourself how you feel.”

“What? How I feel?” Yosuke furrowed his eyebrows as he took his apron off. “How do I feel..?”

“Exactly, stupid. Go.” Yu shoved Yosuke forward causing him to stumble before the brunette took off sprinting.

“Come on, Claude.” Yosuke muttered to himself as he ran, frantically searching for the blonde boy. “Where did you- Oh! I know!”

Yosuke sprinted faster towards the little dessert shop Claude took him to a few times before.

‘He told me it was his favorite place.’ Yosuke thought as he panted hard, exhausted from all the running. ‘I hope he’s there.’

Yosuke threw the doors to the little shop open, the few couples inside snapped their attention to him as he walked in all sweaty and breathing heavily. His brown eyes frantically searched the faces in the room before glimpsing a familiar tuft of blonde hair tucked away in the back corner of the room.

“There he is…” Yosuke sighed out in relief as he made his way over, heart clenching at the sound of sobs coming from Claude. “Hey…”

Claude’s body tensed as he slowly turned his head, tears on his face and blue eyes bloodshot. He was shocked to see Yosuke here.

“You followed me..?” Claude muttered, voice broken due to the crying he’s been doing.

“No, I just know you.” Yosuke gave a small smile before pushing himself into the booth next to Claude. “Look, I'm sorry… I didn’t mean it the way it sounded, it was a joke.”

“Yeah, well that joke hurt.” Claude frowned as he looked at him, cheeks red from how Yosuke was right up against him. “I’ve dealt with people treating me this way ever since they found out. When I met you I didn’t think much of it; you were cute, funny, and you’re loyal to your friends. I love all of that about you and I was going to take my time and ask you out once I found out if you were even into guys but clearly you aren’t.”

As Claude rambled and went on about how he felt with a few tears falling, Yosuke just stared at him, listening to everything. The brunette pouted a bit as he brought his hands up to Claude’s cheek, cupping his face and leaning close.

“Wha- Yosuke?!” Claude’s face was red as he pushed on his chest. “Stop, don’t tease me!”

“No.” Yosuke whispered as he pressed their foreheads together, nuzzling his nose on Claude’s. “I’m not teasing. I’m doing what I should’ve done earlier.”

“What do you-“ Claude’s heart nearly stopped as Yosuke pressed his lips against his as long, slender fingers threaded into blonde locks.

Yosuke’s eyes were closed as he kissed Claude tenderly, combing through his hair gently. Claude was stunned in utter shock and disbelief. Yosuke was kissing him. The man he had feelings for was reciprocating them for once. Warmth bloomed in his chest as he allowed himself to melt into the feeling. Claude’s hands rested on Yosuke’s thigh as the brunette deepened the kiss by opening his mouth.

Claude’s tongue slid against his as he pulled Yosuke closer in the booth, ignoring gasps from other customers at the sight. Yosuke pulled back after a while, the brunette’s face to turning bright red.

“I’m sorry!” Yosuke blurted out with a red face. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t ask, you told me to stop and I-“

Claude kissed him again, cupping Yosuke’s cheek this time. He smiled and adjusted his glasses after pulling away from his lips again.

“I’m happy. You make me happy.” Claude spoke softly, holding Yosuke’s hand tightly. “You’re the best thing to ever happen to me and even if you had made a stupid joke I forgive you and I still love you.”

“I think I feel the same. I’m just- I’m new to these emotions, especially with a guy.” Yosuke was nervous with Claude now leaning so close to him. “You’re just so cute and your eyes make me lose my breath and you- Ah! You’re too cute!”

Yosuke engulfed Claude in a hug, kissing his nose and whining. Claude chuckled a bit and smiled at him gently. His blue eyes held so much love for the man in front of him.

“We can keep things slow. I don’t want to scare you off.” Claude smiled and rested his forehead on Yosuke’s. “But I’m just so happy you feel the same way.”

“I’m happy too, but what will we tell the others? Yu already knew what was going on but not anyone else.” Yosuke blushed a bit at the thought. “Kanji won’t let me hear the end of this…”

Claude laughed and moved closer to Yosuke, humming.

“All in good time. Like I said, we take it slow. Not everyone needs to know right now.” Claude whispered to him, nuzzling his cheek.

“Okay. I’ll just follow your lead.” Yosuke said with a loving smile. “Thank you.”

“No, thank you, Yosuke.” Claude mumbled as they finally got approached by a server and got to order, this little excursion becoming their first official date.

[thora-jane]

Excuse me, Bus Boy? (Shang Chi x female!Reader)

(a/n) Wow...you all REALLY like my last fic. This one's a little more thought out and also hopefully better written. Enjoy you lovely nerds!

Summary: After finally finding Shaun again, you too share an oddly intimate moment in his morning workout routine.

Warnings: nothing unless you need a warning for Shirtless Shang Chi.

Word Count: 1287

“Shaun I swear to god,” You mutter under your breath, raising your fist to pound on the door again. Shaun and Katy had been gone for a week almost and left no word as to where they were going. In fact, the last you saw of them was a video of someone’s live stream where Katy was driving a bus falling apart in chaos and Shaun was kicking a sword-handed man’s ass.

At least, you were 99% sure that was them. You’d watched the video over a hundred times, and though you’d never think Shaun could beat anyone up (he was too sweet, this man was the perfect gentleman, some days you weren’t even sure if he could throw a punch) you could recognize that face anywhere.

But like...there was still no way that could’ve been Shaun. Yeah, Shaun was pretty amazing, an absolute genius, a sweetheart, but like...he couldn’t be a badass. Right? You chuckled, this man had to have SOME flaws, right?

“Shaun you better be in there,” you called a little louder, running a hand through your hair. You thought about filing a missing person report, but something about all this made you feel like he would be back soon. So here you were, knocking on his door for the...6th? 7th day in a row? “Shaun! Are you there?” you raised your fist, knuckles ready to hit the door again.

“Woah, hey there (y/n),” Shaun said, startled but still half sleepy as he looked down at your fist against his bare chest.

“Shaun oh my fucking god where the fuck were you?” You let out a sigh of relief as you flung your arms around his neck, “I’ve been coming here for days and you haven’t been here - Also, Bus Boy?” You ask, almost accusatory, squinting up at his face to gauge his response, “Oh my god are you hungover? You were out last night? Where have you been?” your voice was frantic as your hands went from his shoulders to his face, then back to his shoulders as you realized he was shirtless, “Oh crap I’m so sorry maybe I should uh...maybe I should come back later do…” your voice dropped to a whisper, “shit, Shaun do you have a girl in there?”

He laughed, and you decided to ignore the melting of your heart, “Yeah because that’s believable,” He joked, running a hand through his hair with a yawn, “I just woke up. Why are you even here?” he opened the door wider and gestured for you to come in.

“Because I was worried!” you kick off your shoes and step into his tiny apartment garage, “you hear nothing from someone for days while they become internet famous and you wouldn’t get worried either? Like, I was worried you were killed or something!” Your voice lost its accusatory tone and sounded more frantic as you tried to look anywhere but the six-pack you had no prior knowledge was waiting under your friend’s shirt, “Apparently you can handle yourself though...Bus Boy?” you ask, trying to suppress a laugh, “Seriously, was that real? Like, that was you and Katy?”

Shaun chuckled, sitting down on the floor, “Yeah that was uh...that was me,” he nodded, rolling onto his stomach and getting on his hands, “Bus Boy, the internet sensation,” He let out a grunt before starting pushups. Whether it was his heavy breathing, his muscles, or the occasional grunt through clenched teeth, you found yourself falling quiet as he worked out. Something about his arms and the rest of his body made feelings you had suppressed for months harder to ignore.

“Are you enjoying this?” he smiled, turning his head to face you as he pushed himself up from the ground and went from flat hands to fists.

“Shut up,” you mumbled, hiding your blush behind a hand, “What was happening while you were gone, anyway?”

He paused in thought, arms suspended at a perfect 90-degree angle as you were suspended in disbelief at his strength, “I had a...surprise visit. With my family,” he said before returning to his pushups, “It’s pretty complicated. But I figure there’s something you might as well know.”

You looked up from the floor, “What’s that?” you asked.

You thought you saw him blush, but you figured he was just heating up from exhaustion “First of all, could you help me out with this? I’ve been meaning to add weight to my pushups and…”

“What do you want me to do?” You asked, brow furrowing.

“Could you...Could you sit on my back? You’d probably help out a lot and-”

“Are you sure?” you blushed, “Like, I don’t want to crush you,” you stumbled out.

“Trust me,” He smiled, “I can handle it.”

You hesitantly shuffled over to the other side of the room and perched yourself on his lower back, “Is...is this ok? Do you want me to move or-”

“No that’s great. Now hold on,” he said before going down into his pushups again. You yelped, hand reaching to grip his shoulders and you thought you heard him laugh.

“What was it you wanted to tell me?” You asked, focusing on the feel of his shoulders below your hands.

“My name isn’t actually Shaun,” he grunted, you could feel his body working a little harder with you on top, “It’s Shang Chi.”

“Shang Chi?” You asked, trying to repeat the intonation he spoke with.

“Yeah. There’s also a ton of other things I should tell you about, like my family and why Katy and I were gone so long, but that’s definitely the easiest one to get out of the way,” he let out a grunt as he lowered himself down and sighed, laying his face flat against the smooth concrete of the floor.

You scootched off of him and laid down on your back by his side, “I can handle Shang Chi. What else does this man with a new name have to through at me?” You smiled, looking over at him as you felt your face heat up.

He let out a laugh, flopping onto his back, “Oh you have no idea.”

“So...do you want me to still call you Shaun? Or do you want to be called Shang Chi or…?”

“Shang Chi is nice, but you could also call me ‘at seven o’clock tonight’?” He said, confidence as stable as his heart rate, “Like, for a date? Or maybe you just want me to explain everything but also-”

“Shang Chi, are you asking me out?” You asked slack-jawed, still lying on the floor.

“Yes? For the record, this may have been Katy’s idea. But the past few days have made me realize a lot of things, (y/n). And I...I’d like to take you out on a date. Or if you want we can just go out for coffee some time and I can explain everything that happened. But you should probably know I think you’re amazing and-”

“Seven sounds perfect,” You interrupt, “You and me having a date at seven o’clock tonight sounds great and I would love to be there,” You sit up, and he does the same, face flush all the way to the ears.

“Perfect! Great!” He smiles as you get up from the floor at the same time, “Yeah that’s...that’s awesome!” he nods before wrapping his arms around your waist and murmuring into your hair, “I did miss you, (y/n).”

“I missed you too, Bus Boy,” you smiled into his bare shoulder as he let out a groan.

“Please not that name.”

“Alright, you leaned back, resting your forehead against his, “I missed you too, Shang Chi.”

[kaiparker-avengerssmut]

Their Doll 5

Throw a punch

B.Barnes x Reader, S.Rogers x Stark!Reader

series synopsis:  y/n Stark, all records of her non existent, and yet Hydra still find her. When she is kidnapped by a certain super-soldier and no one believes her, she finds herself searching for unexpected familiarity in her not-so-distant past.

Series Warnings: smut, violence, torture, swearing

Chapter Summary: y/n finally beats Bucky, he has a surprise for her when she returns from her first mission.

Warnings: smut, violence, mention of death/murder

A/n: The timeline in this has been altered, as there I things I wanted to include but I also wanted this fic to follow the storyline/timeline of Winter Soldier and Civil war.So for purposes of this fanfic, Peter Parker was discovered by Tony at a much younger age - when he was bitten - and has been an intern with him since, almost like a protégée.(For the purposes of this story Peter was bitten much younger too - more like when he was 9 or ten rather than 14/15)

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

3 years. 3 godforsaken, bloody torturous years. That's how long I'd been in this hell hole. How long I'd been repeatedly beaten up by my only form of solace daily. How long I'd been whipped for simply not being good enough to beat a super soldier. How long I'd endured endless torture. And today, today is the day that it will all end.

If there was one thing the last three years taught me, is that I should duck and run rather than throw a punch. At least that's what I thought, and I'd never really been willing to risk a broken jaw to prove my theory. That is, until today.

Come on, y/n, you can do this. The words were repeated in my mind, my own mantra, in order to psych myself up for what I was about to do. There was a fire grip on my arm - arguably much tighter than necessary - as the guards dragged my down the hollow hall to my training session with the Winter Soldier. Pft, more like two hours of humiliation and a sore ass, I though, a little smirk spreading on my lips at my own joke.

"What're you laughing about? Something funny, Stark?" The guard who had the grip on my arm spat through gritted teeth and the smirk was instantly ripped from my lips, instead reverting back to the hard expression I had been trying to maintain while around anyone who worked for HYDRA.

So basically everyone.

We walked in silence the rest of the way, like normal, and the guard roughly shoved my into the room by a hand between my shoulder blades, like normal. But today wasn't like normal - no, today was the day I was the one to throw a punch.

They removed the silencer from my head and let me take a gulp of water before The General was barking the order for us to begin.

I walked into the centre of the room, shoulders back and stare cold. The soldier's gaze matched mine as his cerulean eyes bore into my own, his jaw clenched and hands already curling into fists as I stood before him. We maintained the stare for a moment - almost as if the other was waiting for the other to make the first move, an open opportunity to take the win.

And so I did.

Using the speed I'd worked up to over time, I farted towards the soldier, ducking on a seconds notice as his metal fist flew out. I landed a jab to his stomach, one hard enough to make him cough slightly with the knocked up air but far from hard enough to actually make him stumble. Distracted, he barely noticed me as I slipped under him - through his legs out by his back, which I was quick to jump on. I let my legs wrap around his muscular waist and my left arm wrap around his throat, making the soldier grit his teeth and attempt to pry my arm away from his neck as he began to choke.

When he attempted to fling my forward, I tangled my right fist into his brown locks, yanking painfully and making the soldier cry out as I lowered my lips to his ear. Another thing I'd learnt in the past three years is that the soldier was only affected by my powers under two conditions:

One, he was off-guard or vulnerable - hence the choking - and two, I was as close to him as I could possibly get.

I began to him a soft tune - one I had discovered was most effective in lowering my opponent's defence and lulling them into a false sense of security. I practically smirked irksomely when I sensed his eyes rolling back in defeat and his assault on my arm falter - body falling limp and relaxed under the quell of my voice.

When I was sure I'd lowered his defences enough, I slowly climbed down from his back and admired my handy-work.

The Winter Soldier, stood dopey and barely lucid before me, without so much as the energy to even move his arm, let alone land a heavy punch like he normally would. I took my chance, the man nothing more than a pile of flesh and bones as my leg swept through his, bringing the soldier down the the ground with a loud noise that resembled a mixture of a crash and a thud.

Of course, the impact made my tune immediately ware-off and the soldier was now fully lucid, but I could barely contain myself as I punched my fists into the air triumphantly and a grin curled across my lips.

A lonely applause filled the tall room, bringing me back to earth as I realised the situation. Footsteps angled towards me, slow and calculated as the claps slowed to a stop, The General standing before me with a tight-lipped smile.

"Well done, Miss Stark." He congratulated, looking around him and outstretching his arms. "It only took you, what? Three years?" He mocked, the taunting laughter of the guards making me feel nauseous. But I kept my composure, returning his mocking, tight-lipped smile that didn't even dare go near my eyes - which were alright with anger. "And now your training is complete. We shall have to teach you how to use a gun, I suppose?" He said lazily. I clenched my jaw.

"I knew how to use a gun perfectly fine, General." I gritted and his eyes brows shot up as he turned to face his comrades.

"Did you hear that, gentlemen? Looks like she doesn't need another three years to learn to fire a gun? My, my, haven't we lucked out with this one?" He mocked cruelly, coming back to face my burning eyes. He smirked, grabbing my chin between his thumb and his finger and angling my head up to meat his eyes. "Take her away, and get her ready for her first mission." He demanded, eyes churning with something that resembled pride, but darker. He kept his eyes on me as he spoke, before roughly jerking my chin away and letting the guards refasten the silencer over my mouth before they were grabbing and arm each and dragging me from the  training room.

The pulled me back down the hollow hall - passing my usual cell.

"W-where are we going?" I asked, swallowing heavily as they halted to a stop in front of an unfamiliar door and we shoving me inside. There was nothing gentle about the HYDRA guards, not that I ever expected there to be.

Once I was in one of them tugged the door shut, the other throwing a bundle of clothes at me, which I fought as the flew at my chest. I opened the ball of fabric out, finding a skin-tight leather tactile suit - red HYDRA symbol embellished on either arm and over my heart - along with underwear and some black tactile boots.

The men stared at me expectantly, eyeing me up and down by never making the move to leave.

"Aren't you supposed to give me privacy to change?" I asked sheepishly. As humiliating it had been to be whipped for three years the sight toppled in front of these men, the idea of willingly getting changed while they were stood staring at me like I was a piece of meat made bile ride in my throat.

"I highly suggest you get to it, unless you'd like us to help out, of course." One of the guards said with a sickening expression, making me grimace and begin to tug my shirt over my head.

"And how about you do it...slowly, if you don't mind, Miss Stark." The other remarked, arms crossed over his chest as he bit his lip and glued his eyes intensely on my body.

I gulped, continuing to pull the shirt over my head. Oh boy, this was gonna be a long day.

…

Blood and soot cakes my nails, the icky feeling of the grime a haunting reminder of what I had just done. I was in the shower room, scrubbing the mud and blood from my body as quickly and efficiently as I could. I was used to cleaning my own blood from my skin, but the feeling of someone else’s just made me want to-

I shivered, hands shaking the the brush tumbling out of my grasp and clattering to the floor. I braced a hand on the wall, letting my head hang forward as I took a deep breath, before looking back up and wincing as the cold water streamed over me.

No hot showers at HYDRA. I hadn’t felt the feeling of warm water rush over me since the last time I had a long bubble bath back home...

I shook the thought off, carding my fingers through my hair and attempting to pick the dirt and gravel out of it. My breath was ragged as I felt a hot steam of air on my neck, the faint tickle of fingers brushing over my hips and up my body until two large hands - one flesh, one metal - caged my head to the tiled wall.

“Soldier...” I moaned breathily, letting my eyes slip shut at the feeling of his hot breath hitting the back of my neck. It was an intoxicating feeling, really, especially after being void of affectionate human contact for so many years. The soldier buried his nose in my hair, inhaling deeply before bringing his lips to my eye.

“I can’t stay away from you.” He murmured, flesh hand coming down to grab a handful of my ass roughly before letting go. I almost whined at the loss of contact before I felt a harsh spank against my right ass cheek. What surprised me the most was the expected cry of pain did not escape me, but rather a moan of pleasure.

I could feel the soldier’s smirk against my skin at my reaction, my eyes still shut as his hand trailed over my hip once again, before slipping down my front and running a finger through my wet folds. I jerked away as his fingertip brushed over my sensitive nub, pressing my lips together to surpress a needy groan at his low chuckle, the sound going straight to my core and causing a pang of arousal to dance through me.

“Ever been touched here before?” He husked in my ear and o shook my head, almost in embarrassment. “No?” He checked and I shook my head again. “I’ll try to be gentle.” He muttered, but before I could protest his cold with gliding through my folds, now coated in my wetness and slowly sheathing itself inside of me.

A raspy moan tore from my throat, the soldier groaning behind me as his hand moved to my hip in a vice-like grip. His cock stretched me beyond my limits, and to say it was painful was an understatement. After a moment of keeping his cock fully seated within me, the soldier pulled his hips back slowly before slamming back roughly. A burn formed in my cunt and I let out another moan, dropping my head forward to to cool shower wall when he thrusted into me again.

After a few more thrusts the pain started to dissipate, instead turning into a delicious and pleasurable burn that sent tingles through me. When one of my hands reached backwards to grip onto the soldier’s thigh, he took it as a signal to speed up snapping his hips into mine until the only thing that could be heard were our skin slapping together, my breathy and broken moans and the soldier’s frankly feral and animalistic growls and groans in my ear.

A sharp gasp crawled up my throat when his hand transferred from my hip down to my core, two fingers flicking at my bungle of nerves. I could feel every vein, every ridge, every part of him as I clamped down around him, throwing my head back to rest of his shoulder as his pace somehow increased again - fingers drawing tight and fast circles on my clit in time with his thrusts.

My knees buckled as I came with a shout, falling back into him as my legs gave up on me. He let out a growl as his thrusts faltered, a few more strokes and he was shooting his load deep into me. I winced as he pulled out, falling forwards into the wall as I tried to catch my breath - breathing laboured.

As I turned to face the soldier, maybe pull him into a kiss, he disappeared. It was like he had gone into thin air. The only trace of him left was his cum dripping down my thighs, tickling my skin.

[nessinborderland]

Be Mine (09)

Pairing: Niragi x Reader / Chishiya x Reader

Genre: Smut, Angst, Fluff, Omegaverse

Word Count: 2.3k

Summary: You were able to stay unbounded throughout your life. You didn’t want an Alpha; you didn’t need one. You would rather die than to give yourself to some random male. But the man that saved your life thinks differently.

Warnings: Alpha/Omega, Dubious Consent, Vaginal Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Finger fucking, Rough Sex, Rough Kissing, Unprotected Sex, Creampie, Breeding, Pregnancy Kink, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Drama, Developing Relationship, Past Abuse, Scars, Death, Blood and Gore, Animal Death, Trauma, Bath Sex, Blood and Injury, Oral Sex, Dom/sub Undertones, Feelings

Notes: Here it is, the so awaited bonding chapter! A lot of you will probably be disappointed with the result, but I personally love it. Also, I have decided to write "What if reader bonded with X" when I finish this fic, so fear not. Also, would like to thank everyone that has left a heart, comment or reblog; ya'll mean a lot to me. Yes, even you, silent readers <3 Hope you enjoy :)

AO3 Link        Masterlist

You wake up to burning pain. 

It's so unbelievably painful that you almost fall off the bed as you struggle to stay still. This is so much stronger than any other heat you've had before. This is agony. Your hand is at your core before you're even fully conscious, fingers already inside as you try to ease some of the pain. It does nothing but add to the burning sensation.

You take a deep breath, cunt squeezing around your own fingers when you smell him. You open your eyes to look at Niragi, still unconscious beside you. He gives out such an alluring and delicious scent that you feel yourself both salivating and getting wetter. You're on top of him in seconds; you need him inside you as soon as possible, you need him to knot in you, to bond with you.

No. What are you doing? He's unconscious. You can't.

Is with a huge amount of struggle that you're able to step away from his sleeping form. You stumble to the bathroom, turning the shower on as you rip your clothes off you. You're so unbelievably hot that it almost feels like you're on fire. The kind of fire that only an Alpha can pull out.

You scream when the cold water hits your burning skin, but keep yourself under its stream. You need to control yourself, you need to get some illusion of power over you. You can’t let it take over you. You can’t let it consume you. 

But it hurts so much.

You fall to your knees as you go back to touching yourself, legs open as you thrust three fingers inside you, the other hand rubbing your clit. But it does nothing to help, and you almost sob from desperation. You need something, someone, that can make it stop.

Chishiya.

He's an Alpha, and he's conscious. He can help you.

No.

If you go to him you'll be bonded and then there's nothing you can do. That's what you keep saying to yourself over and over and over. You can't bond with him, but part of you wishes that he would just burst through Niragi's bedroom door.

The other is terrified that he will. 

Time goes by where you do nothing but cry and masturbate, forcing yourself to stay still and not do anything that you’ll regret later. It’s a constant fight with your wolf, and she’s desperate to win the war. It’s so unbelievably painful that you keep standing up to go find Chishiya or, even worse, just take Niragi’s unconscious body. But you hold on; you have to, for as long as it takes.

You smell him before you see him. His scent alone makes you moan. You stare wide-eyed at the bathroom door, jumping to your feet when it opens.

Chishiya stands there.

He looks the most out of control you have ever seen him. Wide yellow eyes, pupils so big they almost look black; body shaking uncontrollably, sweat sticking hair to his face and neck; shirtless, a visible bulge in his swim shorts.

He looks like everything you’ve ever wanted.

He throws himself at you before either of you can say anything, kissing and rubbing his crotch against your core as he presses you against the shower tiles. You let him, arms pulling him closer. He feels so good, so right, exactly what you need. Your wolf trembles with anticipation.

"Alpha... Alpha…" you beg, licking his neck. He feels so good against you. You need more. You need him to ravish you, to consume you, to make you his. "Please, Alpha, it hurts." 

When he finally thrusts inside you, it feels like bliss. It's such a fantastic sensation that you feel yourself coming immediately, cunt clenching around him as you scream his name. That doesn't stop his ruthless shoves, cock stretching you and filling you to the brim as he mates you under the cold stream of water. His teeth graze your neck and you shiver, moaning his name as he keeps fucking you through your orgasm. You beg him to bite you, to mark you, but his teeth never break the skin. His mouth goes to your ear, biting the earlobe with a light chuckle.

“I told you I was going to–”

And then he falls to the ground, almost taking you with him. You look up to see Niragi, gun in hand as he stares at you. He still looks pale, but there’s a feverish, animal-like look in his eyes that makes you gasp and squeeze your thighs together. He points the gun at Chishiya, before turning it around and hitting the other man's skull, time and time again. He only stops when you throw yourself at him, wet body pressed against his, hands pulling his head down for a kiss. He drops the gun then, arms going around you as he takes you to the bed. You say his name over and over, begging him to fill you.

And he does.

Oh, he does. If Chishiya felt unbelievably amazing, Niragi feels out of this world. 

You fall on the bed in a mess of tangled limbs, his body on top of yours as he enters you. You whine against his mouth, chanting his name as he thrusts in and out of you at a pace he never used before. Your arms and legs surround him, pulling him closer, deeper. You want him to take you, all of you. He moans in unison with you, kissing you as roughly as he fucks you. 

“Mine...mine...mine,” he repeats in time with his thrusts. His hands grip your thighs, folding you in half as he shoves himself in you, over and over. You’re coming not long after, lips on his neck as you beg again to be bitten, to be marked. He doesn’t slow down his pace, keeping it hard and fast.

You yelp when he suddenly stops, turning you on your belly and shoving himself back inside you. His pelvis slaps against your ass with each shove, making you see stars as the new position allows him to fuck you deeper. You feel so full, so unbelievably filled to the brim. You want more. You tilt your hips further up, allowing him to go so deep inside you that it hurts. But you enjoy the pain, enjoy the stretch, enjoy everything your Alpha is giving you.

One of the hands gripping your hips slides up your back with surprising carefulness, fingertips barely touching your scars. You gasp when that hand goes around your neck with barely any pressure, before pulling you flat against his chest. He doesn’t stop fucking you even then, mouth now glued to your neck and marking spot.

Then it happens.

You can’t contain the gasping moan that leaves your body when his sharp fangs break the skin at the base of your neck. It’s like you go blind for a moment, and you can’t feel anything but him. In your body, in your mind, in your soul. All around you, there’s him; nothing else matters.

You can’t really describe what happens next.

It’s like you’re him. But he’s also you. You’re one and the same. Your mind is stormed with emotions, memories, and thoughts that are not your own. Is nothing like the first time he bit you. Before, it was like you got a small taste of what he was feeling at the moment. But this is like... your souls are connected. His fears, his pain, his happy moments, his regrets, his mistakes. The good and the bad; they’re not a secret to you anymore. What was once a sealed diary is now an open book. You feel like laughing, screaming, and crying, all at the same time.

You hear his surprised gasp as he undoubtedly feels what you feel, your memories going through his mind like a slideshow. You let him take over your soul, and he lets you take over his. There’s nothing to be afraid of anymore; no one will be able to understand you as much as he does, and the same applies to him.

No more secrets.

Then you feel it; the knot. Your first reaction is to try to move away from the odd stretching sensation inside you, but Niragi’s hands force you to stay still, a growl forming in his chest as he sinks his teeth further into your skin. So you freeze, gripping his hair as he knots in you. It’s a mix of pain and pleasure; you want to make him stop as much as you want to tell him to keep going. He stays still as he keeps filling you up with cum, the swollen knot at the base of his cock making it impossible for any of it to go to waste.

“You’re mine now,” he says with a grunt, “My Omega.”

And then you're both collapsing on the bed, gasping for breath. His arms hug you as he rolls to the side, making you wince as he pulls you with him. You lay there, his heartbeat in your ear, his warmth all around you, and his knot inside you.

Is bliss. Is what you were born to do. Everything is as it should be.

“I wonder what would happen if I killed you right now and took her for myself…” Chishiya’s voice makes both of you freeze. 

Niragi’s arms tighten around you, and he growls a warning as Chishiya gets in your line of sight. He’s dressed in his swim shorts again, white hair wet with water and blood, as he lazily walks to your side of the bed. In his hand, there’s Niragi’s sniper rifle.

“Get out!” Niragi orders. Chishiya makes no mention of it, ignoring the man as he crouches, locking eyes with your mate before looking at you. You can’t exactly decipher his expression; he doesn’t look mad or disappointed. He looks...curious?

“So,” he says in a soft tone that makes your stomach curl with uneasiness. “What does it feel like to be bonded for life?”

“Give me five minutes and I’ll let you know,” Niragi says, fangs exposed. He tries to move, stopping immediately as you cry out from the pain; you’re still connected, after all. You gasp when Chishiya stands straight, pointing the gun in the other man’s direction. You close your eyes as Niragi covers your head, expecting a gunshot. However, nothing happens. “You better fucking leave, or I swear I’m going to kill you as soon as I’m able to,” Niragi says through gritted teeth. You can feel his fear, his rage, his almost desperation to keep you safe when someone else clearly has the upper hand.

You open your eyes when Chishiya huffs out a laugh. His expression doesn’t change as he leans the gun against the bedside table before going back to his previously crouching position.

“Do you know what happens with Omegas after a broken bond?” he asks. Not to you; he almost acts like you’re not there. “They go insane.” he says, a smirk pulling at his lips, “The pain of losing their Alpha is so unbearable that most of them commit suicide. That or they become an outcast, more beast than human.”

Even mentioning broken bonds is considered taboo; it’s not something that any wolf talks about like it’s nothing. The mere thought of it makes you want to scream. And here he is, an Alpha, mentioning it like he’s talking about the weather. The threat is clear to you and Niragi, though. Very clear.

You wonder for a moment if he’s insane. 

“Stop the games, Chishiya.” you gulp when his eyes lock on you, something flashing in the yellow of his iris, “Please, just...go away.". He leans his head to the side like he’s analyzing you, before standing up again.

“I just want you to keep in mind that bonding with a broken Omega would be more of a burden to me than anything,” he says with a shrug, walking towards the door, “That doesn’t mean I won’t try it, though.” he says over his shoulder, “We’ll see. Enjoy your honeymoon.” 

When he finally leaves is like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders. You release the breath you didn’t even know you were holding, squeezing Niragi’s hand in yours and he kisses your neck.

“He’s not going to hurt you,” he promises in your ear. Horrible thoughts of losing your mate immediately take over your mind. You don’t know what you can expect from Chishiya; not really. He’s an enigma, and it scares you. Would he be capable of committing such an atrocity? You have little doubt about it.

This is the Borderlands; who’s going to stop him?

“I don’t worry about me…” you whisper, turning your head to look him in the eyes. You cradle his cheek, and he kisses your palm. “I don’t think he makes threats in vain.”

Niragi sighs. “That’s not something I want you to worry about,” he says. You don’t say anything; you don’t have anything to say. So you kiss him, lips hungry against his.

The kiss escalates to a point where you don’t even notice that the knot disappeared, moaning in his mouth as he moves again in and out of you. He fucks you much slower but with as much passion as before. You can’t even call it fucking; mating just feels like something else entirely. It’s a sensation that both you and your wolf crave to experience, again and again, until he’s knotted inside you, your name on his lips.

And that’s what you do countless times; until day turns into night and you’re both so tired that even keeping your eyes open feels like a Herculean task. So you sleep in each other’s arms, with no more pain or doubt inside you; not the usual one, at least.

Your rational side knows that this is far from being a fairy tale; it’s not even a romance. But that is not something that you’re willing to think about, right now.

For now, you can pretend that you’re madly in love with a good man, in a country that is not going to kill you, with people that don’t concern you.

For now, you can lie to yourself.

Next Chapter

[kanonsarchivedblog]

Heat Waves Been Fakin’ Me Out-

(Can’t make you happier now). ━━━━━━━━━━━━ Word Count: 1679 TW: Anxiety Attack Author's Notes: This was inspired by that trend on TikTok when people reminisce to the chorus of Heat Waves by Glass Animals, and I realized that wow, this trend really fits Kisuke and the massive guilt he has. Let's exploit that. ━━━━━━━━━━━━ The sweltering summer heat settled across the city of Karakura, making it’s citizens suffer from the moment they opened their doors to leave their houses to the moment they reached their (hopefully air conditioned) location. Children played in the splash pads or in public swimming pools, dipping their feet in the rivers and streams, or crunched happily on flavored shaved ice. Anything to beat the heat, realistically.

Sweat slowly trailed down between tense shoulder blades as Kisuke listened to Rojuro sing along to the radio. The shop did have central air, thankfully, but even that didn’t seem to give a blessed respite from the heat that rolled in through the door every time it opened. He never had been good at handling the heat; had always suffered in the summers of Soul Society when he’d been young. Yoruichi used to tease him about it, despite being just as miserable at the time.

Thankfully, as the sun began to dip below the horizon, the heat began to lift and a sweet summer breeze danced through the air. It was then that they were able to function as Tessai and Kensei worked on dinner. It was weekly, this little get-together, planned carefully to avoid detection or an accidental brush with someone from Soul Society- or someone with stolen powers and a horrible case of hero syndrome.

“Ne, Shin- hand me that cup, would you?” HIyori asked, not bothering to sit up from her sprawled position on the tatami. Kisuke couldn’t blame her- she suffered almost as badly as he did.

“Get it yerself,” Shinji stated even as he reached over, taking hold of the cup before handing it off to the other. She hummed her thanks and placed the bottom of the cup on her forehead, sighing at the feeling of the cool perspiration settling on her skin. Lisa let out a snort at the sight as she reached into her own cup, plucking out an ice chip to pop into her mouth. A moment later, she crunched down on it.

“That means you have an iron deficiency,” Hachi commented as he fanned himself, eyes closed. “Perhaps you should purchase some supplemental tablets.”

“Maybe,” Lisa murmured, gaze not lifting from the book she was engrossed in. “Or maybe I just like the way it feels when I bite down.”

“You always did like biting,” Rose mused with a smile as he brought in a fresh tray of drinks. “I remember watching you fight- you almost took a chunk out of Kyoraku-taichou.”

“I wonder if he scarred?” Mashiro questioned, her gaze darting about the room.

“Probably,” Kisuke hummed, grimacing at the way his haori clung to his skin. Gross. Even so, his mind began to drift. This was nice- seeing them all together, no one really arguing- hearing the laughter drift from the kitchen as Tessai tried to do an onion volcano, only for it to fail in a tiny puff of smoke. Love had settled in a chair, his feet propped up on Hachi’s leg, while Lisa leaned against the leg of the table. Hiyori lay away from them, trying to stay as still as possible to avoid any unnecessary movement. Mashiro wasn’t bothered- but she never had been bothered by the heat, especially not now. Yoruichi laid on the front porch, for once not in her feline form, enjoying the cool northern breeze.

Shinji was watching him, Kisuke noted belatedly- his brow raised, a question posed within his gaze but not spoken aloud. He waved him off idly, a lazy smile curling his lips but coming nowhere near his eyes. His head dipped, the brim of his hat settling low over his eyes.

This was how it used to be. Kensei and Tessai would work together in the kitchen with Mashiro “helping”- more often than not, they’d all gather in the Twelfth. It had the most room back then. Shinji would sit with him and Yoruichi, sharing in any news he’d heard recently; Lisa would arrive later, having been with her Captain, even if she denied it. Hachi would bring sweets that he graciously picked up from the Western Rukongai, and Hiyori would bring drinks-

Along with Aizen.

The mere thought was enough to cause a weight to settle in Kisuke’s stomach like a stone tossed into a shallow pond suddenly. The waves rippled throughout, sending out spikes of anxiety and guilt that settled in the palms of his hands and the back of his mind. His heart skipped a beat.

Silently, he rose to his feet and slipped away into the depths of the Shoten. The weight was back, settling across his shoulders, draping itself across him as if it were a thick blanket, suffocating him. His breath began to come quicker, his heart beginning to race in his chest, causing his palms to sweat. He almost stumbled when grabbing the handle for his bedroom, all but shoving himself inside before carefully, quietly, closing the door.

Breathe.

This was familiar, the anxiety. It happened more often than he’d like to admit. But by the Soul King, he couldn’t breathe. It felt like hands had wrapped around his throat and were squeezing, cutting off his air supply. His eyes closed, and all he could see was chestnut brown hair, a smile that was nothing more than a facade, and dark brown eyes. A gasp escaped him as he opened his eyes-

And found himself alone.

Alone.

Outside, they all sat. His friends. But this wasn’t where they belonged. They belonged back home, back in Soul Society, but that could never happen. Not with how they would be killed on sight if ever seen. How he himself had a kill order placed upon his head for a crime he didn’t commit.

But it was his fault, wasn’t it? All of this was his fault. His fault for bringing up the question of what would happen if a Shinigami became a Hollow. His fault for beginning research- he wanted to know what Hollows were like. He didn’t want to experiment. But he’d planted the seed, and unintentionally, watered it, causing it to grow into the beautiful flower it had become.

It was his fault Aizen started his experiments, he was certain of it. How else could it be explained? Why else would Aizen target Shinji? Target any of them? It was his fault, and then he’d been too fucking late to save them.

He should have been the one. He should have been the one who became Aizen’s experiment. It was his fault. His fault they had all essentially been killed, his fault they all now suffered with the Hollows that took up residence within their minds and bodies, his fault that they were no longer seen as Shinigami. His fault.

His fault.

All his fault.

His breaths came in choked sobs as he sank to his knees, reaching up to clutch at his chest. Calm down, Kisuke, calm down. Your reiatsu will spike if you don’t- the voice was soft, a croon in his ear. Benihime, his benevolent princess.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

He swallowed roughly as he forced himself to calm down. He couldn’t afford to break- no, he needed to stay strong. He had to stay strong, stay sharp, stay ahead of the game. If he slips up, they could all die. He can’t do that. He already fucked their lives up once. He can’t let that happen again. Not again.

They can never return to what they once were- and it was his fault for that.

“Kisuke?” Shinji called softly, knuckles rapping on the wood of the shoji. “You okay?”

“Fine,” Kisuke croaked, grimacing at himself for how awful he sounded. “Just got- choked. ‘M fine!”

A sigh settled in the air as Shinji opened the door, stepped in, and closed it. “You’ve always been a shitty liar,” he murmured as he came over, settling down beside Kisuke. “What’s gotten into you, huh?” Voice soft as he questioned the other. Carefully, he reached up, brushing the remnants of tears away from flushed cheeks. “You look so broken when you cry.”

“Just the… Damn heat wave,” the excuse was weak. “I’m fine.”

Shinji didn’t respond; instead, he reached over to tug the other blond close, arms wrapping around him. “Damn cry baby,” he muttered as Kisuke laughed in a broken sort of way- almost bordering on a sob as he settled into his arms.

“Just the heat.”

“Sure it is.”

Kisuke fell silent, listening to the slow beat of Shinji’s heart. Alive, somewhat. He still wasn’t completely sure how it worked, the hollowfication. The impact it had on the body. Rose’s heart barely beat, while Mashiro’s sounded like a hummingbird’s. Strange.

“I miss it, too,” Shinji admitted after a moment. “We all do.”

“I know.”

“It’s not yer fault.”

“Right.” Liar, his mind whispered. He pulled away carefully, wiping at his face. A shower would be nice, but dinner came first. “Let's go eat,” he rose to his feet, holding a hand out for Shinji, who took it and let Kisuke pull him up.

“Kisuke?” Shinji called as the former captain made his way to the door. Kisuke paused, head tilting, yet he didn’t face him. “Y’know we love you, right?”

“I know,” you shouldn’t love a monster. “C’mon, my stomach’s growling and I don’t wanna miss out on Kensei’s coconut shrimp.”

A laugh escaped Shinji as he brushed past him, walking ahead of Kisuke, who hesitated for a moment, his head tilting back to study the bedroom. It felt as if something had shifted in that moment.

As if someone had done something.

Thunder rumbled overhead, a summer storm rolling in suddenly.

Strange.

“Kisuke! Get yer ass in here!” Hiyori yelled, startling him from his thoughts. A laugh tittered free as he finally joined his group once more. Even so, something scratched at the back of his mind.

Someone had just arrived in the World of the Living from Soul Society.

“Let’s eat!”

Here we go again.

[your-eternal-muse]

Sight For Sore Eyes

Heather Series Part 9

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 9

BONUS: Readers Card Confession BONUS: Spencer’s Take Series Playlist

Summery: Reader bares witness to the final moment of Spencer and Heather’s relationship, and when comforting Spencer, something unexpected happens.

Words: 2k

Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of Cheating, angry Spencer

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader (It’s happening fuckers.)

A/N: I don’t really have anything to say, except go nuts. I almost screamed writing this.

~~~~~

Eavesdropping isn't really my thing.

I find it impersonal, and kind of bitchy.

I mean, you're basically listening on someone else's conversation, snooping on drama that doesn't concern you.

Only, this kind of does concern me.

Since, you know, if it weren't for me, Spencer and Heather wouldn't be huddled in a conference room, arguing about their impending divorce 

I should feel worse about it than I do.

But I don't.

Spencer is broken.

She ruined him.

And trust me, I know because I'm the one who he's been coming to.

The whole thing sort of forced us back together, but if I'm being honest, I didn't really fight it. Like, at all.

Again I should feel bad, about how selfish it is to take pride in the fact that a man who's going through a divorce finds solace in my arms.

But you know what?

I really don't give a shit anymore.

I've spent the past almost three years doing everything to appear nice and selfless and it led me down a road that almost killed me.

So fuck it.

I exposed her cheating ass, punched her in her stupid face, fell asleep with her husband while laying on my couch and now I'm listening in as he serves her the divorce papers.

I'm not even trying to be subtle about it, and the team isn't being subtle about finding my snooping funny.

JJ passed and asked for an update, Derek just chuckled, and ruffled my hair, Hotch closed his blinds so he can have plausible deniability and the rest of them just smile as they watch.

I do have a back up plan though, just in case.

I hold a file in my hand that I can open and pretend to be reading as I walk in to get Spencer's opinion. Or something.

Right now though, I'm leaning against the door frame, listening and watching through the sliver of a crack that the door is open from when Heather closed it.

Heather sits with her back towards me, her hands folded in her lap, the papers and a pen sitting on the table in front of her, while Spencer stands, stoned face in front of her, his arms crossed over his chest.

"Sign the papers, Heather."

I can hear her sniffle, and she shakes her head. "No. I love you, we can make this work."

“'We’ aren't doing anything. 'We' are getting a divorce because 'you' cheated on 'me' for almost our entire marriage. Sign the papers."

He was assertive, the pain and anger evident in his voice as he points to the packet on the table.

I'm not gonna lie, it's kinda hot.

"It's only been six months. What do you want me to do? It was a mistake, a stupid mistake." She's actively crying now, and she stands, making her way over to him, wrapping her hands around one of his biceps.

He stares down at her.

"I love you, Spence."

Hey bitch, that's my nickname for him, get your own. Wait no, I take that back. You can just fuck right off, how's that?

One of her hands comes up to cup his cheek, and anger boils in my stomach.

He uncrosses his arms, and brings a hand up to cover hers, and I hold my breath.

He wraps his fingers around her wrist, pulling it from his face while he pulls her hand from his bicep with his other hand.

He holds both of her wrists in his hands, pushing her away from him.

"That's not love."

Haha. Bitch.

"And it wasn't a mistake. You kept going back to him. Over and over again, instead of dealing with your problems and talking to me. Now," he turns her, and pushes her towards the table. The way she falls forward, stumbling into it makes it look like he shoved her harder than he did.

"Sign the fucking papers."

She grabs the pen, crocodile tears streaming down her face. 

Her look goes from pleading, to furious in a second.

"You're gonna run back to her, aren't you?" She scoffs, straightening up. "How do I know you didn't cheat on me first?"

He leans in close to her, brushing hair behind her ear.

I almost fall into the room, leaning in so close to make sure I can hear what he says, my heart pounding.

"What or who I do, is no longer any of your business. Now I'm not going to ask again. Sign the papers, or I will gladly get my lawyer and make your life a living hell."

She's no longer crying, but the annoyance is radiating off of her.

She's pissed.

She huffs, leaning forward, and signs her name. She flips through, repeating the action until she's done.

She tosses the pen onto the table. 

"You're gonna regret this. I'm the best thing that's ever happened to you."

He actually laughs, and I want to applaud him.

"Yeah, sure you are. I want your stuff out by this weekend."

She grabs her purse off the table, walking towards the door at a quick pace.

Shit shit shit shit shit shit.

I barely have time to open my file and take a few steps back to make it seem like I was walking up before she's opening the door, almost running into me in the process.

Her eyes meet mine, and I can't help the smirk spread across my face.

She glares, her hand coming up to her still bandaged nose, before shoving past me.

I watch her walk to the end of the hall before turning back to the room, where Spencer now stands with his hands in his packets.

I hold up the file, ready to start my spiel, but he starts talking before I can get the chance.

“I could see you.”

My mouth falls open and he smiles.

How the fuck…

“I could also smell your perfume.” He looks down at the papers, starting to flip through them to double check that she signed everything.

He could smell my perfume?

I walk into the room, closing the door fully behind me.

Wouldn’t want anyone to listen in now would we?

“How do you know it’s mine?” I place the file on the table, as he closes the packet.

He looks up at me, and my knees turn to jello.

“Because I smell it on your skin every time we hug.”

Butterflies erupt in my stomach, but he keeps talking.

“Smells like home to me.” He runs a hand through his hair, shifting from one foot to the next, now looking down at the table instead of me. “You’re home to me.”

You’re killing me, smalls.

I walk over to where he’s standing, and open my arms. 

I watch as his shoulders deflate as he sighs, walking forward and wrapping his arms around my waist. 

My arms slink around his neck, and I now understand how he can smell it. His nose is pressed to the crook of my neck, right where I put it in the morning.

“You’re my home too.” I whisper, turning my head, and inhaling the scent of his hair. It’s such a uniquely Spencer scent. I wish I could bottle it, make a candle out of it so that I can smell him whenever I want.

We break after a few minutes, and I trail my hands down his arm.

He entangles his fingers of one hand into my own.

“You okay?”

He sighs, looking down at our hands as he plays with my fingers. “I will be.”

He sits on the edge of the table, and I follow suit, being sure not to break the link our hands have created.

“If I hadn’t seen you, if you hadn’t been there watching, I’m afraid of what I might have done.” He swallows, and his eyes won’t meet my own. “It scared me.”

He finally looks up, and a small fire is lit behind those hazel eyes of his. 

“It scared me, because for a moment, I wanted to hurt her. She has made me so, angry, she’s made me feel so fucking stupid and all I wanted to do was make her feel that too.”

I fully grab his hand, the absence of his ring pressing against my palm.

“I know that feeling. But, as much as you wanted to, I don’t think you would have. You’ve got too much of a good conscience to do something like that.”

I feel him squeeze my hand. 

“However, I am more than willing, so you tell me what you want me to do and I’ll do it.”

That got him to laugh, and he shakes his head at me. He becomes quiet quicker than I’d like. 

“You have too much faith in me.”

“Hey,” I reach up and grab his chin with my free hand, forcing him to look at me. “I have the perfect amount of faith in you, Dr. Spencer Reid. You’re a good man, no, a great man, through and through. I guarantee you that you are the best thing that has ever or will ever happen to her. If she doesn’t realize that, well, that’s her loss. Not yours.”

I swipe some hair out of his face, and his eyes bore down into mine. 

Something about the look on his face makes my heart start to race. 

It resembles what I assumed I looked like that day in the restaurant, only he also looks like he’s about to cry.

My face scrunches in confusion. “Are you okay, Spence?”

“God, I love you.”

His hands are on either side of my face and his lips are on mine.

His lips are on mine. 

He’s kissing me.

Spencer Reid, the man whom I have been in love with for the past ten fucking years is kissing me.

Kiss him back, you dumb bitch!

My hands immediately go to his chest, bunching the fabric of his shirt in my fists, pulling him as close as possible to me.

I have dreamt about this moment.

Since the day I met him, I have dreamt about what kissing him would feel like. 

And now that it’s here, I can safely say, that my dreams don’t compare to the real thing.

His lips are soft and they lead in such a way that doesn’t make it feel like he’s doing all the work. 

It’s the perfect amount of push, the perfect amount of pull.

Kissing him is perfect.

But then he breaks it, as if remembering where he was, and the moments that had led up to it. 

He looks utterly terrified, like he just ruined the one thing he had left.

We're both breathless for a moment, and then he speaks.

“I’m sorry.”

Before I can react, he picks up the packet of paper and all but runs out of the door. 

I come to my senses quick enough to go after him, following him out into the bullpen. 

“Spencer!” I stop, out of breath, and confused as hell.

He exits through the glass doors, his hands grabbing fistfuls of his hair.

“Hey hey hey, what’s going on? Did something happen?” JJ walks up, eyes looking at the space that Spencer had occupied before turning to look at me. “Seriously, you look like you’re about to cry. What happened?”

My fingers float over my lips, still warm from the energy of the kiss. 

“He kissed me.” It’s barely above a whisper, like if I say it louder than that, it’ll cease to exist.

“He did? Why did he run then?”

“I don’t know.” 

The kiss isn’t what's confusing me at the moment though, oh no. 

What’s making it hard to breath right, let alone think, was the statement he whispered right before he kissed me.

A statement I never even thought I would hear him say.

God, I love you.

I must be hearing things. That can’t be what he said. He told me himself, that night on the balcony, he doesn’t love me.

No.

I may not have a memory like his, but I could never forget something like that.

He loves me. 

He loves me.

Spencer Reid loves me.

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[keeroo92]

Breaking Point

My SFW contribution to @jackpot-dantezine, where Dante falls apart on the way to confront Urizen.

Word count: 1,909

-------

The air hung stagnant around him, oppressive and unnaturally warm. Shades of red and brown, grey and a sickening green encroached up the walls. When he called the smell, “hot garbage”, he’d been far too kind. Veins pulsated a stern drumbeat as Dante stepped forward after his two female companions. 

“Bet you both I bag the first Queen!” Lady taunted. Trish responded with a cool smirk and a quickened pace, but Dante’s mind was elsewhere.

What if it was Vergil?

Dante had his doubts, despite what the weirdo client told him. What were the chances, right? Vergil’d been gone for years, stuck in hell after their last meeting. Getting back here, let alone in good enough shape to pull off this bullshit, was a longshot.

Still. His brother had a way of popping up and causing trouble. 

The first boom of battle ricocheted off the nauseating walls, reminding him where he was and what he still needed to do. He’d better catch up. Thinking about shit wasn’t his style; killing demons was. 

Time for a good ol’ fashioned beat down, that’d get him out of this funk. 

Dante cracked his neck, hands twitching to grasp the twin handles of his beloved Ebony and Ivory. The staccato thud of his boots mirrored the thudding of his heart, hastening as he got closer to a fight.

He turned a bloody corner just in time to see Trish deal a death blow to a Hell Judecca, its skeletal arms dissolving into ash as she spun to find her next prey. Her signature yellow sparks glowed brightly from her hands, her body dashing across the blood-stained ground to strike a pair of Antenora. Show off.

“That puts me ahead by two, Lady! What, are you taking a nap?” the blonde called.

“Not even close!” Lady replied, firing her bazooka straight down the throat of a Caina.

Dante grinned and picked a target, spinning on his heel as a scythe hunted his flesh. Too easy. He twirled Ebony and shot the ugly bastard in the face behind his back. Why did all demons look like the ass end of a bad burrito, anyway?

Eh, who cared?

His heart lurched. Vergil would. When they were children, Dante’s brother never ran out of questions about the nature of demons. He’d asked everything imaginable, from how they fought to how they multiplied. 

Dante tried not to think about that part.

And for every question Vergil asked, their dad had an answer. He’d stop whatever he was doing to explain, smiling proudly all the while. Like Dante wasn’t even there. It used to annoy him, but now the memory only brought bittersweet longing. What he wouldn’t give for them all to be together again…

“Dante, duck!”

Leather snapped as Dante instantly dropped to a crouch. A stream of fire licked his flesh, a Hell Bat above screeching its displeasure at the near miss. Annoying bastard. He never should've let it get so close. 

I gotta keep it together, he thought cynically, or the girls will get on my case.

Plus, banter always helped keep his mind from visiting its darker corners.

The man in red summoned a smirk and fired a few rounds, his bullets poking holes in the bulging orange belly overhead. A sound not unlike a whoopee cushion signaled his success. Nice.

“Sayonara, sucker!” he crowed, watching as the bat’s leaking body propelled it into a wall to explode. “Let’s call that one twenty points.”

“No way, lazybones! You don’t get extra for making fart noises,” Lady called with a scowl. 

Dante raised his hands in a placating gesture as soot settled to mark the deaths of their foes. He hoped Ver- Urizen sent a few more their way; he needed to warm up before kicking the king’s ass. Maybe he should stretch, just to keep his blood flowing.

Dante sighed and shook his head. He’d never hear the end of it.

It turned out he didn’t need to worry; as the trio progressed, they encountered wave after wave of demons, all vying for fresh blood. Trish and Lady didn’t falter, picking off one after another as Dante did his best to stay on task, but his mind kept drifting back to his brother.

For decades, Dante held only anger at his twin for not being there, for forcing their mother to search for him. To a child, the immature logic made sense. If Vergil hadn’t run off, things would’ve turned out differently. Simple cause and effect.

But time dulled the blade of his rage, and a broader understanding of life took hold. Any number of choices may have changed the outcome of the attack, but obsessing over it wouldn’t change what happened.

None of them had the power to predict the consequences, or to change them. All he could do was keep fighting, and hope that by doing so he spared other families from sharing the fate of his own. 

If Dante was being honest, the constant battles tired him. His body didn’t move like it used to, and the first aches of middle age warned him it was time to slow down. He couldn’t chase demons forever, and part of him didn’t want to. It was a lot of work.

It might be time to leave it to someone younger.

Then again, what the fuck else was he going to do all day? The only thing worse than being tired was being bored.

And the thought of retiring while Vergil was still out there somewhere, doing who knew what… it didn’t feel right, as if the balance would shift to the demons and they’d go unchecked. As a descendant of Sparda that gave a shit about humanity, Dante felt a certain responsibility to bear the weight of defending them. It was what his dad would’ve wanted.

What his mother would’ve wanted.

Besides; if he didn’t, then who would? Nero sure as hell wasn’t ready, not yet. 

But above all else, if it came to a fight to the death, his brother deserved to go at the hands of his family. Someone who understood what he’d gone through and all that he’d lost. It was Dante’s responsibility, and he damn well wasn’t hiding from it. Not this time. 

The thought left a hollow ache in his chest, a bitter sorrow he desperately wished he could ignore. If there was any alternative, any chance of helping his brother instead of ending his life, Dante knew he’d take it. That he had to even consider killing Vergil showed how twisted life could be. It made him want to scream. 

“Aw, shit,” Trish said, breaking his rambling thoughts. A quartet of Nobody’s waited in the next clearing, scurrying back and forth like excited cats. Perfect timing - Dante hated these guys.

And he really needed to kill something.

He flew at the demons with a cry of fury, drawing all four to him as he pulled Rebellion out. The girls followed in his wake, but he saw nothing save the nearest mask as his blade struck home. It left a deep crack in the clay, but the prick backed off before he had the time to kill it.

He really hated these guys. 

“Lady, finish him!” he cried. The other three were already swarming him. Damnit.

He dodged a stray arm and slashed at another as a blast reached his ears. The grotesque floor shook from the force and Dante roared, unleashing a vicious series of slices at the stumbling Nobody closest to him. It whimpered and tried to back off, but he refused to let it go that easily. Rebellion’s heavy blade sank deep into the creature’s core, splattering hot blood on its fellows and its killer alike. Two down. 

Two to go. 

There were days he didn’t see the point of it anymore; no matter how many would-be demon kings he took down, there’d always be another, and the peons were even worse. Useless, feral things, their only desire to destroy and kill.

It only added fuel to the fire of his rage. He needed to get closer.

Dante sheathed Rebellion and pulled at the thread of dark energy connecting him to Balrog, summoning the metallic pseudo-armor even as he threw a powerful punch. A rapid kick followed, his feet cracking against the reddish mask of the third nobody. He’d kill it before it fought back.

But a fiery blast on his left hurled him to the side, the last demon cackling as he fell. Years of getting pummeled proved their worth as Dante rolled with the blow, using the momentum to get on his feet a beat later. He grimaced and flipped a finger at the laughing jerk. 

“Is that all you got?” he shouted. Who knew if it understood.

It screeched and slammed a limb at him, slashing at his chest. He stepped aside and brought his arms together, crushing the appendage and tugging the beast closer for a solid headbutt. He punched and kicked, again and again. Demon blood splattered his face, each drop like a balm to his wrath. The chaotic battle surrounding him faded away; it was just him and the demon and the sounds of his strikes pulverizing its desecrated body. 

“Dante?” Lady called, her voice barely piercing the fog of his anger. He ignored her and punched the Nobody in the face again. “Dante, it’s dead. You can stop hitting it now.”

How many people had this one killed? How many families did its hunger shatter? For all Dante knew, it might be the bastard that killed his mother. He punched it again.

“Dante, come on…” Trish said. 

Maybe this was the demon that left nothing but smears of blood on the playground outside. Or the one that tore through a local grocery store, or that small house where he found those god awful husks. Another punch. He didn’t notice his female companions coming to stand beside him.

“Dante, knock it off. We need to keep moving,” Lady said, her palm coming to rest on his shoulder as he pulled back for another punch. Trish mirrored her.

The edges of the creature’s face began dissolving, a fine grey powder all that remained. Dante’s panting breath sent the dust aflutter as he slowly lowered his arm. His jaw ached; had he been gritting his teeth the whole time? Fuck.

Better crack a joke, something to keep it light.

“So, that’s what, four points to me?” Dante said. Both women shot him fierce glares.

“What the fuck, Dante?” Lady began. 

He wiped away the blood still clinging to his face and sighed. “It’s nothing.”

“Didn’t look like nothing,” Trish chimed in. “You good?”

The red-clad man released the tendril of energy connecting him to Balrog, the blood-stained metal vanishing a beat behind. He didn’t know what to say. His rage still flickered within him, an ever present ember waiting for the right moment to flare into an inferno. It might give him an edge; it might consume him. 

Talk about a double-edged sword.

It didn’t matter what was happening in his heart or what it did to him. There was a big ass demon tree growing in his city, ugly bastards swarming the place and who knew what else. It was his job to clean up the mess, no matter who made it. 

Dante snorted. He was, in essence, a janitor. 

He cracked his neck. It was time to clean. “I’m good.”

[mjxmoon]

george being a bitch because he’s shy 🪴

george x black reader

word count: ~1.1k

request: Can you do georgenotfound with a black reader where like he sees her stream all the time bc he has a crush and dream invites her to film with them and he's being really stiff and distant so she thinks he's like racist or something and goes to cuss him out?(fluffy ending though please)

a/n idk how fluffy the ending is but enjoy also this goes from like 3rd person to 2nd person a few times oops

warnings: swearing 

“You invited her over here!?” George shouts in disbelief, “Why would you do that?” 

“Come on, you like her and you’re only in Florida for one more week,” Clay explains. The sound of the doorbell then rings throughout the house and a wicked smile appears on his face “Oh she's here.”

“WHAT!?”

Outside you bounce on your heels nervously as you wait for someone to answer the door. When ‘Dream’ invited you over to his house to film a video with him and George your heart stopped. The fact that one of the most popular Minecraft YouTubers watched your streams AND wanted to make a video with you in person was almost too much to handle. A man then opens the door, and it takes you a moment to realize that who is standing in front of you is Clay.

He says your name with an enthusiastic grin as he pulls you into a hug. You never expected him to be a hugger but willingly accept his embrace. “It's so great to meet you!” He says excitedly as he ushers you inside, taking your coat from you quite gentlemanly and welcoming you into his home. 

damn, this man's stacked you think to yourself as you look around his house. You spot George hanging back by the staircase and feel a little bit star struck seeing him in person “Hi! George, right?” Dumbass You curse to yourself, what a stupid introduction. 

He raises a hand to give you a wave before swiftly turning around “Yeah, let me know when you guys wanna start filming.”

You knew to come with the expectation that George wouldn't be the same as he was on stream but you were expecting a little more enthusiasm. “Um yeah let's get started.” Maybe he’s just nervous around new people. You try to convince yourself before your mind wanders to the other more racially motivated possibilities. 

Clay leads you to his office that's complete with the sickest gaming setup you’ve ever seen. “Wow,” You say looking around in awe. You notice George staring at you from the corner of your eye and when you try to acknowledge him he quickly turns away and goes to do something else.

As Clay starts explaining his plan for the video you can only think about George and the reason he’s being so cold to you. He doesn't have to be an angel but some basic human decency would be nice. He’s the reason you got into streaming and as embarrassing as it is you developed a slight crush on him so him being a bit of an asshole hits you a little harder than it should.

You snap out of your thoughts as Clay extends one of his headsets to you. You stare at it for a moment before confidently taking it and setting it on your head. I'm not gonna think about it anymore you tell yourself I'm just gonna have a good time. That's what you came here for anyway- well not exactly it was mostly to meet George- but instead of sulking over it, you decide to make the best of the opportunity. 

While you guys film a Minecraft manhunt together you try your best to ignore George and his shitty attitude. Every time you tried to make a joke or interact with him he wouldn’t say anything or talk to Clay instead. As time passes it becomes more and more infuriating and you practically give up. Now that you think about it, maybe you should have had more sense than to develop a crush on a steamer you knew nothing about and expected him to give a shit about you.

“I'm gonna go get something to drink,” Clay says, sliding off his headset “You two want anything?”

“I’ll have some water please.” You say. George shakes his head as he immediately gets on his phone, probably to drown you out for the next 5 minutes.

Clay looks between you and George and feels a little guilty for the tense situation he’s created. Clay teased George relentlessly about his crush on you, but maybe he should have warned George that the girl he's been in love with for months was coming to see him. Clay keeps his eye on them until he closes the door a little scared of what will happen once he leaves.

“Hey did I do something?” You finally decide to ask after a painfully awkward moment of silence. 

“No,” George says, simply not looking up from his phone. 

His tone is super dismissive, which only pisses you off more, “Do you not like me?” You inquire. He doesn't respond, and you can’t help but feel like you’ve found your answer. “Really? Is it because I'm Black?” You don’t know where that came from, but it was at the back of your mind, and you don’t feel guilty for asking. His eyes snap to you rather quickly and you sit there with an unamused expression letting him know you’re dead serious. 

“Because if it is just say so, that way I don’t have to stay here anymore with you and your racist bu-”

“Why would you even think that!?” He cuts in, very hurt by your implication. 

“Well I don’t know you’ve been kind of a dick this whole time- and this wouldn't be the first time someone’s been a dick to me because I’m Black.”

“It's not like that I swear, and I don’t hate you-” he stumbles over his words trying not to say what he so desperately wants to but it comes out anyway “I….like you.”

You pause your rant and look at him in shock. It takes you a moment to register but when you do you feel a mix of all sorts of different things “So what you were just gonna treat me like an ass because you liked me? What is this elementary school?” You flop back into your chair and huff feeling slightly embarrassed.

The silence falls back over the room and you fiddle with the hem of your shirt as you give the response he’s been waiting to hear “And I like you too.”

He blushes and as he opens his mouth to speak the door to the office burst open “Almost busted my ass coming up the stairs.” Clay says slightly out of breath.

You and George burst out laughing, letting go of the awkwardness and tension built up from earlier, finally able to express yourselves.

“Did I miss something you two seem more chummy?” Clay says as he slides back in his chair. 

“Nothing.” George replies, quickly logging back into the game, flashing you a cute grin before putting his headset back on. “Come on, let's finish this!” 

“Uh-huh…” Clay says looking between the two of you unconvinced “I’ll just check the recording later.” 

“The what?!” You and George look at each other in horror when you realize that Clay never actually paused the recording, and your conversation was now going to be in his possession forever. “DREAM!”

[waywardwrestlewritingwaif]

Raise the Stakes, Part 13

I just had to sneak in one more part before the big showdown tonight. Aside from this, the card for Resurgence looks awesome!

Pairing: David Finlay x OFC x Jay White

Word count: 2,897

Content advisory: sexual content (not as graphic as previous parts, but still more than just mentions), language

Previous sections (and the prequel) available on the Master List

This is completely normal, you tell yourself. He has a big match tomorrow. He needs a clear head and sleep and, as he’s fond of telling you, he doesn’t get either of those things when the two of you are together. It makes sense that he’d want to spend tonight at his own place, by himself.

So why do you feel like something horrible is happening?

You close your eyes but the second you do, you get a vision ofJay lifting David limp body off the mat. You can still hear that awful crack of David’s unprotected skull hitting the chair and immediately you feel sick to your stomach, just as you had when you’d watched the moment unfold. You were as powerless then as you are now to change it. All you could do was follow the assistants who’d come to help him to the medic’s room.

By the time they got him back there, there was already a red welt visible on his forehead. He was barely conscious, growling at anyone who tried to help him until you approached. He hadn’t said anything, just leaned into your body and let his head fall on your shoulder. He wasn’t aware enough to notice that you were crying, even when a few of your tears dripped onto his skin.

You’d held him tight until the doctor arrived, her expression doing nothing to ease your mind. Nevertheless, after a thorough check, she pronounced that he wasn’t concussed and wasn’t injured beyond the obvious bumps and bruises. Not physically at least.

Of course, you’d insisted that he come back to your place where you could keep an eye on him and take care of the wounds he had sustained. Well, you hadn’t really had to insist. He was happy to go along, laughing at the way you tried to do everything for him. It became a rather hilarious tug of war, you trying everything to keep him still and him doing everything to annoy you, getting himself a bottle of water from the fridge, trying to make something for dinner until you’d literally smacked his ass repeatedly with a spatula, which had you both laughing so hard you almost fell down.

Getting him into bed was a battle, too, and once you got him undressed and relaxed, he’d immediately started to get frisky. He kept insisting that he was fine and had ended up spending time both last night and the first part of the day today showing you just how fine he was.

“I can’t wait until this weekend is over,” he hissed into your skin during one intimate moment.

You’d agreed because, despite the fact that there are other shows and other matches coming up, there does seem to be a sense of finality around their showdown this weekend. Sure after this, Jay’s going to calm down or get distracted and he won’t be so determined to screw with your lives.

“Never again,” Jay had fairly shrieked, sitting on David’s chest, clinging on to his belt. “You will never beat me again.”

Sure, his words made perfect sense within the context of their fight for the belt and Jay’s determination to avenge his loss months ago. But you knew that wasn’t it. The animalistic way they’d stared each other down before the fight, the rush to get started. Jay always loved to tease confronting an enemy but backed out at the last seconds toying with them until he was convinced he’d rattled their nerves. Not last night. He and David had gone right after each other, brawling like they were in a bar.

Thinking of that reminds you of a night you haven’t thought about in years, back in their early days, your early days, in the dojo. It’s not a night you should remember at all, given the condition you were in but you remember it, or at least the end of it, perfectly.

The three of you had been out drinking. Drinking a lot. You’d stumbled back to your barracks leaning on one another to form some sort of solid mass that could stay upright. You’d still ended up tumbling a few times, which was hardly surprising. You must have all had some kind of homing instinct because none of you could tell where the hell you were.

You knew that by the time you made it back, the door would be locked but your super power at that time was that you were small enough and flexible enough to get through the window in the kitchen that was stuck open. You’d needed a boost from the guys, which had taken a couple of efforts, but you were eventually able to scramble through and unlock the front door, albeit after crashing into so many things and making so much noise that there was no way anyone slept through it.

Your room was in another area of the building but you’d just headed to their room. You’d passed out on the floor on several occasions, always on the floor even though you’d already started sleeping with Jay by that point. The two of you were half-assed pretending that nothing was happening, even though you’d very quietly fool around before falling asleep.

You’d been keeping things a secret to avoid gossip but also, at least on your part, because you hadn’t wanted to hurt David. It was clear already that he was sweet on you and you’d figured that as long as it wasn’t right there out in the open, you could pretend that there was no reason for him to feel hurt. Later on, you’d confide in him about how miserable Jay was making you, but at that point, things were still fun, still inconsequential.

In retrospect, you realize this period must have been agony for him. Jay was a braggart and had advertised his conquest to his roommate pretty much right away, but from there, you’d all pretended that nothing was happening. It’s only been in the last few weeks that you found out just how much and how early he’d liked you. Going through that must have sucked.

But on that particular night, there was no problem because you were all feeling no pain, either physical or emotional. You’d ended up crawling up the stairs on all fours, basically pulling both of them along with you. Jay had informed you loudly that he needed to take a piss and you and David had somehow made it back to their room.

It was dark, which meant the two of you were stumbling all over the place, but eventually David had flopped down onto his bed and turned on the lamp that stood on the shelf just above it. Unfortunately, as he did so, he’d knocked the lamp backward and left it hanging precariously, wedged between the headboard and the wall.

“David, get the light!” You’d been laughing so hard you could barely get the words out. There were tears streaming down your cheeks.

“It’s ok,” he mumbled, laughing as much as his semi-conscious body would let him.

“It’s not ok, David, you have to get the lamp because it’s going to…” You could not for the life of you remember the word “fall” in that moment.

After a few more seconds, you’d gone over to retrieve the lamp yourself, not that you were particularly graceful at it, balancing yourself as best you could on the edge of David’s bed and placing one hand on the wall to try to keep steady, all while trying not to collapse onto David’s chuckling form.

Out of nowhere, he’d snaked an arm around your leg and pulled you down onto his face, which made you both laugh even harder. You’d been giggling as he clumsily pushed your panties out of the way and started licking you with sloppy enthusiasm.

“Oh my god, David, what the hell,” you laughed. “That tickles!”

Maybe you would have told him to stop, or he just would have passed out in the middle of what he was doing because he was just that loaded, but before either of those things could happen, you’d been interrupted.

“What the fuck?” Jay was standing unsteadily in the doorway.

You’d tried to shush him as you fell back a little, sitting on David’s chest. He was laughing too but Jay decidedly was not.

“What are you, eating her pussy?”

You’d just cracked up laughing. David hadn’t opened his eyes, just grinned in a drunk, goofy way and responded, “I don’t know. Sort of?”

“Turn the light off,” Jay snapped.

“I’m trying to!” Another wave of laughter rolled over you as you’d pondered the ridiculousness of not being able to turn off a light.

“Turn the fucking light off!” Jay yelled.

He gave it a hard kick and shattered the bulb, solving the problem. He’d helped you stand up and although you couldn’t see him well, you’d felt like David was already unconscious as Jay led you over to his bed.

He’d pushed you down and started pulling your clothes away, which was unusual. Part of trying to keep things secret was learning how to fool around without getting naked and being as quiet as possible. But that night, Jay had been insistent about getting you naked. He’d been rough and he’d been loud. And he’d bit and pinched and scratched at you until you were loud as well. If you hadn’t managed to wake everyone in the building up with your arrival, that must have done the trick.

The only person it didn’t disturb was David, whose light snoring you could hear while you were going at it.

Jay had never been one to stare into your eyes and focus intently on you during sex, not back then at least. He’d look at you, then away, like he was thinking of what he could do next, or what he could get you to do. But as you remember the night now, you realize that his eyes flickered repeatedly towards the other bed, vibrant with anger. You knew that Jay had come to see you as one of his belongings during the time that you’d been working for him, but it’s only now that you realize how early that had started. Even then, when he’d been very clear that the two of you were not exclusive, he’d been livid at the idea that someone else would touch what was his.

The son of a bitch would have known that David was hung up on you, too. He’d done his best to make sure that he’d hear him fucking you right there in the room, like David didn’t even exist. David who at that point was still his best friend.

You don’t know if David woke up while all this was happening. You hope he didn’t. Although he’d apologized for what he called “his behavior” the next day, you’ve never been sure how much he remembers. Certainly by this point, it might have faded from his memory entirely. You hope that’s the case. You hope he doesn’t remember it anything like the way you do.

In his position, you don’t know if you’d ever be able to trust you, to believe that your emotions weren’t contaminated or at least inconsistent. You can’t believe that doubts don’t start to creep in the second you’re out of his sight, which is why, although it’s understandable that he’d want to spend the night by himself tonight, you feel worried. The second he starts thinking about how many problems you’re causing and how much he’s had to deal with for years because of you, he’s likely to move to Siberia just to ensure he never sees you again.

And as if you weren’t capable of driving yourself crazy with anxiety on your own, Jay’s trying his best to make it worse. Since you are the talent liaison for New Japan in America and Jay is a New Japan performer currently working in America, you’re no longer allowed to stop him from accessing you and tonight, he’s apparently decided to take full advantage of that.

Your phone lights up to indicate another text message. You check every time because it could be David, or someone actually trying to contact you for work, as opposed to what Jay’s doing, which is trying to drive you right out of your mind. But it seems like no one has anything to say to you except Jay.

Are you alone or do you have to take care of your boy tonight?

I hope you’re not wearing him out. I want him to remember how easy it is for me to beat him even at his best. And I know how you can be.

Try not to think about me when you two are going at it.

If he’s not there, come over. I’ll keep my hands to myself if you do.

You know I can get women whenever I want but I never stop thinking about the filthy things I’d like to do to you.

Play the good girl all you want, I know you’re going to be thinking about that last text for hours. I’ll bet you’ll even touch yourself.

Send pictures when you do. No reason for us not to enjoy ourselves.

Wonder how he’d react if I told him you were coming over. Guess I could find out. Not like he’d know I was lying. Or maybe I’m not lying?

That last one does it. You can’t just ignore that because you don’t know if he’s going to make good on the threat. So you type back the only two words you can think of: STOP IT.

Ha. I knew you weren’t sleeping. And I’ll bet your sweet prince is back at his place because he wants to be focused for tomorrow. Poor boy denying himself his last meal.

You flinch and respond again in all capital letters: I MEAN IT. KNOCK IT OFF.

You’re tense. You should definitely come over. I’ll give you a back rub.

You should have just let him keep texting and gone to sleep, not that you can sleep because you’re so tense about things with David and the fact that Jay’s threatening to ruin them. Now you’re caught in one of his mazes that you can never seem to find your way out of.

Fine, you’re not coming over. Phone sex?

NO.

Come on, it’s probably the one thing we haven’t done before. Call me.

NO. GOD WILL YOU JUST STOP? I’M TRYING TO SLEEP.

I know how to help you calm down. Call.

Ok, seriously, let me help you relax. We don’t have to talk about you putting my dick in your mouth.

You roll your eyes and answer: Nothing with you relaxes me.

Seriously, I have a technique.

NO.

You’re no fun. Think I’ll bug Super Dave for a bit.

You don’t even text him back. You call because at least if he’s on the phone, he can’t be texting David to tell him god knows what.

“Well this is a nice surprise,” he purrs.

“You can’t do this. I need to sleep. Hell, you need to sleep. Just let it go, Jay.”

“I don’t really need to be well rested to beat Finlay. He got lucky the one time. Even you don’t believe he’s good enough to beat me twice.”

“Maybe I don’t care if he wins or not. Maybe I’ll be happy because I get to be with him one way or the other.”

“I’ll bet he cares.”

“I’m hanging up.”

“No, come on, I promised I’d help you sleep and now you’re even more worked up.”

You try to think of a smart comeback but you can’t. He waits a minute before continuing.

“Are you lying down?”

“Not that it’s any of your business but yes.”

“It’s purely professional interest, I promise.” You can hear a dark laugh buried in his voice. “Lay flat on your back and close your eyes.”

You’re not sure why but you do as he says. You do need to sleep and maybe the bastard actually can help with that.

“I want you to breathe all the way in, really slowly, through your nose.”

You give it a shot and he immediately interrupts.

“Don’t do it like you’re angry at me. Soft and slow, until your lungs feel full.”

You comply, fighting to keep from getting angry at him.

“Ok, now exhale very slowly through your mouth. All the way.” When he’s satisfied you’ve done that properly, he continues, “Keep doing that, as slow as you can manage. In through the nose, out through the mouth.”

You can’t deny that you can feel your body start to relax after only a few repetitions.

“Now take your hand and place it over your face, right along the hairline. Just barely let your fingers touch your skin. Then run your hand down your face, all the way to your neck. Keep your touch as light as you can.”

The sensation makes you shiver but as much as you feel like your nerves are being activated, you also feel like you’re pulling the tension out of your body. He tells you to repeat this gesture a few times, always keeping your breathing slow and even.

“Good night princess,” he whispers. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

The line goes dead before you can say anything.

[rae-is-typing]

Anything For You

NOTE: If you ever feel as though you want to purposefully harm yourself or even commit suicide, please get some help. I encourage you to reach out. Don’t hesitate to message me.

Description: You’re struggling. Between school and the movie making process, your blood is made of stress and the only way you can get any sort of rest is by taking sleeping pills. One night, you take too many.

Characters: The reader, Chris Evans, Sebastian Stan, the rest of the Civil War cast are mentioned, a doctor and medics

Warnings: Accidental overdose, descriptions of an anxiety attack, pills, destructive self talk, the reader is really mean to herself, hospitals, blood, concussion, crying, self harm, mentions of shitty parents. This one is heavy.

Disclaimers: I mean no disrespect to any of the people mentioned, even the reader. I’ve also never overdosed so this might not be accurate nor have I been to the hospital for a serious injury, so that may also be inaccurate. My apologies if it is.

Word count: ~6k

Your tired eyes leer at your computer screen. Ugly, ugly math stared back at you. You sigh, rubbing your eyes. This assignment was due at midnight. It was already 11 PM and you had barely started.

I’m so fucked. Why am I so stupid? I bet third graders can do better than me on this shit.

You thought, shoving your computer to the back of the shitty hotel desk. Groaning, you lay your head on the table.

My parents were right. I’m just a dumb kid, I can’t even do dumb math problems. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

You pick up your head and drop it back down to the desk a few times, trying to get the gears to start turning. Or give yourself a mild concussion. Whatever came first.

You sit up, rubbing your forehead a little and look around the hotel room you’re in. It was small with a queen bed in the middle of the room. It was nice. Of course it was nice, one of the biggest movie franchises had paid for it. You were lucky to get your own room. The hotel was overbooked, so some actors had to pair up. Your room was between Sebastian and Chris’s room and Robert’s room- three people that would fight (and possibly die) for you. It made sense though, they would do the same for most of Civil War’s cast. But you brought out their more protective sides. That also made sense- you were still a kid, barely 16 years old and already trying to figure shit out on your own.

Kids shouldn’t have to get emancipated at 15 even if they can afford it. You thought bitterly. Kids shouldn’t hate themselves. Kids shouldn’t be this stressed.

You couldn’t do this shit anymore. School was kicking your ass. So was this god damn press tour. You couldn’t get one plain day off. It was always work work work and school school school. Even worse is the fact that you went from an honors student with a perfect 4.0 to flunking three of four classes. 

Maybe I’m just a fucking failure. Maybe I should quit while I’m ahead. Maybe I should just give up. I can’t do this anymore, fuck. This is too much. All of it is too much. I’m never going to this shit right. I’m too fucking stupid. Too dumb to do a fucking math problem. 

Tears prick at your eyes. You hold your breath and squeeze your eyes shut, trying to fight off the inevitable sobs. You hate crying, it makes you feel dumb and even more childish. Your breathing only picked up and you began hitching out quiet sobs.

I can’t do this anymore. I don’t want to do this anymore. I can’t I can’t I don’t wanna do this I can’t do it any longer. 

You couldn’t breath as you sobbed in your hands. You could never catch a break. It was all too much. You had no time for anything else, just work and school. No time for friends outside of the cast. Hell, you barely had time for the people in the cast and you felt awkward when you wanted to spend time with them because you were 16 and everyone but Tom was almost twice your age. And sure, Tom was nice or whatever, but he was also an adult that didn’t need a fucking chaperone accompanying him if they wanted to go down the road to get away from set. 

You did know that stress was going to be high and there really wouldn’t be a lot of time to relax and take it easy going into the movie, but you seriously overestimated your ability to handle this level of stress. The late nights, early mornings, always needing to be perfect at everything; it was killing you.

Why do I have to keep doing this? I can’t do it anymore I can’t. I need a break. 

You sobbed for a good few minutes before dissolving into a coughing fit. You glanced at the alarm clock on the table. It was 11:30 PM. You choked another sob out, realizing that you were definitely failing this assignment. 

Tears stream down your face while you finish answering all the questions wrong and turn in the assignment. 

Giving up again? Nothing new. Fucking idiot. Suck it up and do it, you privileged fuck. Stop being such a fucking baby and maybe you’d actually get somewhere.

You wiped your eyes aggressively. You weren’t getting anywhere by crying like a baby. 

Might as well just go to sleep. I can’t even do that without help, fuck.

You stood up from the desk chair and made your way to your bags. You pulled out an opaque black makeup and looked through it. There was an empty bottle of sleeping pills sitting in it. 

Empty of fucking course. Can’t even keep track of simple things. Idiot. 

There were a lot of stores around the hotel you were in, but it was almost midnight. And as a 16 year old girl, you had to be accompanied by a chaperone over the age of 25 if you wanted to go somewhere off set or outside the hotel. Even though you are emancipated, there was still a lot of legal risks Marvel was just not going to take with you. 

Everyone else was likely asleep at this point. You had to be up at 5 AM to catch your flight the next morning. You could just not sleep tonight, but after that crying spell, you knew you needed to. The only problem was that you couldn’t sleep without help and you had no more pills left. 

Besides, no one would agree to go with you to a store to get anything they didn’t perceive as an absolute necessity. Unless…

You pulled out your phone and sent a message to Chris, someone you knew would be up, especially because he had to share a room with Sebastaian. They acted like school girls when they were together. 

you: hey you up

cap cap cap: yeah whats up?

you: can you come to a store with me?

cap cap cap: it’s a little late for that kid. can it wait till morning? we have to be up in 5 hours for the flight

you: I need girl stuff and none of the others are up

cap cap cap: meet me outside of our rooms seb is coming too

you: k thanks

You slipped on a sweater, grabbed your wallet and phone and made your way to the lobby. Sure enough, Sebastian and Chris were standing there, both in sweats and sweatshirts. You offered a sheepish smile.

“Thanks guys,” You say. They smile back at you.

“No thanks needed, kid. You have needs.” Chris says.

Sure, you felt bad about lying about the real reason you wanted to go to a store. But it was either leave and get a bit of sleep or stay and not sleep at all.

“There’s a small convenience store a few blocks west,” Sebastian says, looking up from his phone.

“Where the fuck is west?” Chris asks.

“That way,” Sebastian responds, pointing in a general direction. Chris frowned, looking down at your blank face.

“Y/N?” Chris asks. Your head snaps up at the sound of your name.

“Yeah?”

“You usually tell me to ‘watch my fucking language’ when I swear.”

“Oh, sorry.” You clear your throat. “Watch your fucking language, Evans.” You say without the usual fervor.

“You feeling okay, doll?” He asks,moving to place a hand on your forehead.

“Yeah, fine. Girl shit,” You duck away from his hand, moving in the direction Seb was pointing. 

Chris furrows his eyebrows, trying to read you. But his small investigation was cut short by a loud group of drunk, and possibly high, men stumbling out of a bar. It was pretty early for people to be this shit faced. 

They were stumbling, shoving each other in a bunch of different ways and laughing, whooping and yelling incoherently. You watched as one threw up over the road, only being supported by one of his buddies who appeared to be as drunk as he was.

“Y/N, stay close.” Sebastian says, putting an arm around you and pulling you closer to him. Chris moves closer to the both of you, covering the side of you that was left vulnerable. 

The group parted like the red sea when the three of you walked towards them. Apparently they weren’t drunk enough to pick a fight with people that could quite literally rip them apart.

You looked up at Chris and Sebastian. Their faces were stone cold, clearly intimidating to anyone that looked at them, even their friends. It was a far cry from the warm smiles they usually dawned. You glanced around to see one of the guys in the group ogling you. He locked eyes with you, licked his lips then bit down on his bottom one. You moved closer to Sebastian, turning your face into his side. He shot a glare at the guy who immediately called for his buddies that had moved on to wait for him. You wrap your arms around your stomach and settled into a nice walking pace.

“Are you okay?” Sebastian asks softly, looking down to you and rubbing your shoulder with his thumb. You simply nodded, fixing your gaze to the sidewalk in front of you.

“That was gross. What kinda person stares at a girl walking down the street?” Chris asks. You knew that if it wouldn’t get him in serious trouble, he’d fist fight that guy. 

The rest of the walk was of Chris trying to cheer you up a bit. He told you funny stories of him and his buddies, of the cast on past tours, and just about anything he thought would get you to laugh. Nothing was working. 

Sebastian held the door for you as you went in. Chris and Sebastian followed you in, waiting for your wordlessly as you picked up what you needed. The only occupant was a lonely, very tired clerk sitting at the counter looking like he was going to sleep for weeks when he got off shift. You shopped pretty quickly, grabbing a few candy bars, a bottled drink, tampons, some generic brand Tylenol and a pack of sleeping pills before heading to the zombie clerk.

“You have to buy Naloxone with this purchase because you’re buying an acetaminophen. Store policy.” His dead eyes bore into you as you pulled some money from your wallet.

You give a small nod of acknowledgment. He rings up the box and throws the Naloxone in the small plastic bag with all of your other items. You hand him some cash and he gives you your change.

“Ready?” Chris asks, yawning slightly.

“Yeah,” You felt the way zombie clerk looked: tired and totally fucking dead inside.

The three of you walked back to the hotel at the same pace as before. This time it was silent. The walk lasted about the same time, 10 minutes or so each way. The three of you took the stairs up to the third floor.

You held the door to the stairs open for them.

“Thanks again, guys. I really appreciated this.”

“Anything for you, Y/N.” Chris smiles sleepily. 

“Yeah, you’re welcome. Get some rest.” Sebastian says, moving to hug you goodnight. You wrapped your arms around Sebastian’s neck and he wrapped his arms around your back. He was warm and smelled like old spice. It was nice and you felt safe. Safe enough to want to spill your heart out, safe enough to tell him what you’ve been thinking, how you’ve been so hard on yourself with no good results. You want him to help you. You want him to tell you that everything was going to work out and that you’ll be okay. But you don’t. You simply let go and hug Chris.

Chris was warmer than Sebastian, and he smelled like soft mint. You felt just as safe. Tears pricked your eyes; you really didn’t want to go back to your room and be alone. You wanted to stay with them and talk or listen to them talk. Just being around them makes you feel a little better.

But you let go. You willed your tears away and thanked them one last time before going to your room, unaware that the two men had stayed in the hallway.

You walked down the small entryway and set your bag on the desk by your laptop bag. You pulled out the sleeping pill, popped two in your hand and swallowed them dry. You stayed seated at the desk. A stack of failed papers sat adjacent to the laptop bag. Frowning, you picked them up, barely able to make out the critiques in the dull light of your hotel room. Red pen was scribbled on a paper that you had wrote reviewing FDR’s presidency.

45%. You had received a 45 % on this essay. It took you almost two weeks to write and you got a 45%.

I’m fucking useless. I can’t even write an essay right.

You moved on to another essay you had written, This was your worst, You got a 30% on it. 30% was the lowest grade you had gotten on something that you put genuine effort into.

God, why do I even try anymore. What’s the point of school. I should just drop out, fuck. I should focus on acting. I can at least do that okay.

A drop of water fell on the paper in front of you, smearing the red ink that covered the page. Huh. You didn’t even realize you were crying again.

I’m just a dumb baby. Why do I try anymore? I should go home. My parents were right about me. I’ll never be good enough, I should just go home.

Your breathing sped up and you choked on your sobs in a weak attempt to stay quiet.

Why aren’t the pills working? I want to sleep.

You fumbled with the packaging of the pills, four more falling into your hands. You throw them in your mouth and swallow them dry. 

Your hands start to burn. It blossoms through your arms and through your chest, moving down to your feet. Your head throbs as though someone is leading a marching band through your cerebral cortex. You wince, rubbing your temples.

The pounding gets stronger and stronger until you can’t take it. You reach for the plastic shopping bag on your desk. You snatch the painkillers from it, rip off the packaging on grab a small handful. Without thinking, you shoved them into your mouth and swallowed. 

You couldn’t breath. They had gotten stuck while you attempted to swallow them. You needed water. You spotted your water bottle on the nightstand. You jumped up and rushed over to the nightstand, you tripped on something. The world is a blur around you as your forehead collides with the sharp corner of the wooden table. You yelp, sucking in a sharp breath. You push your head into your hands, putting pressure on the wound. 

The pain moves quickly. Soon, all you could think about was the burning and the pounding in your head. You push yourself against the small space between the wall and the nightstand, head still held by your hand.

You heard three dull thumps resonate through the room. Then you heard your name. More thumps then nothing. The pain was the only thing on your mind. That and the fact that your hands and cheeks were wet and beginning to grow sticky.

Why are my hands wet? I cry from my eyes, not my forehead. Oh, fuck this hurts.

You didn’t know how much time had passed from the thumping and someone pulling at your hands. You didn’t try to resist them. You were fading. Everything was blurry, the blob in front of you reminded you of your friend Chris. He was a real cool guy with really pretty eyes. But there were two of the colored blobs and Chris didn’t have a twin so it couldn’t be him.

Then you were being laid down on your side with your arms being manipulated. You tried to keep your eyes open but you were tired and in pain. You wanted it to go away. 

Why isn’t it going away?

_____________________

You reminded Chris of a puppy- energetic, affectionate and adorable in a way that only young and small things could be.

So he knew that something was up when you walked out of your hotel room with red and puffy eyes. This was more than pain and your hormones being out of whack. The walk confirmed his suspicions. You were quite- too quiet. You barely spoke. You barely looked at the two of them.

The hug made him want to stay with you for the rest of the night and talk. You almost cried when you hugged him. The only time you ever cried was when you had to for a scene.

Truth be told, he didn’t want to let you go. He holds you tightly, even when you loosen your grip on him.

“There’s something wrong, man,” Chris said after the door to your room closed. “She never cries.”

“She’s probably in pain. We aren’t girls, but we’ve heard how painful periods can be.”

“This is different.”

“Let’s talk to her in the morning, She’s probably stressed and in pain,”

Chris relented, following Sebastian to their room and laying in his bed, He didn’t get to sleep at all. He doesn’t know how much time had passed before he heard a loud thump and a yelp through the wall. He sat up, throwing the covers off of him. That was from your room. He bit his lip and stood up, slipping on some slide on shoes, he went to your room next door.

He knocked, “Y/N?” He knocked more. “Are you okay? Can you let me in, hon? I want to talk to you.”

No answer. He frowned. He tried one more time. Nothing, again. Chris looked around the hall while he waited impatiently for you to answer. His heart began to pump a little faster and something tugged in his gut. He needed to make sure you were okay and you really weren’t making it easy. After nothing happened again, he went down the stairs and to the front desk. Unsurprisingly, the front desk was empty. He rang a small bell they had. A tired young woman came from the back.

“Hi, how can I help you?" 

‘I lost the card to my room, can I get a new one?” Chris quickly lied. 

“Sure, what room?”

“321.”

She pulled out a key and magnetized it. In any other situation, he would be appalled that this woman didn’t ask for his name or even check that he was the right occupant of the room, but he was grateful for it now.

He practically sprinted up the stairs to your room, opened the door and walked in. It was dark, the only thing lighting the room was the lamp on the desk.

He fully expected to see you asleep on the bed and confirm that the thump and yelp was something else. But the only thing on the bed was your wallet and phone. He frowned, looking around. The bathroom door was open and you weren’t there.

He turned, looking around some more. Then he saw you. You were curled up between the nightstand and the bed. Your hands were cradling your forehead in shaking hands.

“Y/N, sweetie? Are you okay? Did something happen?” He spoke gently, trying not to startle you.

You didn’t even look up at him. He crouched down by you, gently pulling a hand away from your face. It was shaking horribly and covered in a red substance he prayed wasn’t blood. He pulled the other one away too. This one was drenched in what was most definitely blood and shaking as well. Your face was covered in it; it was dripping down your cheeks, over your nose, in your hair and even on your clothes.

“Y/N? Oh, my god! What happened to you?” He asked, brushing some hair that got caught in the mess away from your face. 

You eyes were heavily lidded and unfocused. You were staring him in the face but it was like he wasn’t there. Then he looked at your face closer. Your lips were turning purple.

“Fuck!” He exclaimed, patting his pockets for his phone. He stood up from his crouched position he quickly grabbed your phone, opened emergency contacts and dialed 911.

“911, what is your emergency?” A woman answered.

“Something is wrong with my friend. Her head is covered in blood, she’s shaking uncontrollably, and her lips are turning purple, I need an ambulance.”

“Okay, what is your location?”

“W Hotel on west seventh and main. Hurry, please.” Chris begged, pacing in front of your limp body.

“Okay, we have one en route. What’s your name sir?”

“Chris,”

“Okay, Chris. What room are you in?”

“I’m in room 321.”

“Is she responsive?“

"No, she’s just staring at me. I don’t think she knows I’m here,” Chris was crying at this point. With tears steadily flowing down his cheeks, he tried to stay calm for you.

“Did she consume any dangerous substances?”

“I-I don’t know. Fuck, how far is the ambulance?”

“They’re almost there.”

“Okay, please hurry, I think she’s dying.” Chris choked the last part out. This wasn’t real. There was no way that you, a 16 year old girl had just attempted suicide. 

No way. 

But it was real. You were laying in front of him, dying and he could do nothing about it.

Its takes too long for the medics to get there. But when they do, Chris steps back and panics in the corner.

They’re leaning over you and asking him things but he can’t think. He can’t breathe. Everything he knew about managing his anxiety went out the fucking window. 

He ended up riding to a hospital in the same car as you, holding your hand as they stabilized you. When they got to the hospital, he filled out paperwork for you.

Then he waited. 

He was led to a smaller, private waiting room and he sat. And he waited. The rest of the cast came in. Most of them were still in the clothes they had slept in. Sebastian and Robert had gotten their first, awoken by the medics and the noise in the hall. They got in a cab or something and followed the ambulance to the hospital. They just sat together in silence while everyone else trickled in.

Lizzie was crying. Hell, they all were in a state of shock. Chris just sat in a chair in a corner, trying to process what he saw.

How did she bleed that much? Why was she bleeding in the first place? Was it on purpose? Was it pills? Did she commit suicide? Why didn’t I see it? Is she dead? How could I have let this happen? His mind was going a mile a minute, but he sat completely still.

He was obviously oblivious to something because if he had done something earlier than this wouldn’t have done this. He could have stopped this from happening. 

The doctor comes in about two hours after everyone arrives. Its 3 AM.

“Are you here for Y/N Y/L/N?” He asks, holding a clipboard.

“Yes, we are.” Robert says, standing up. 

“What happened?”

“Is she okay?”

“My name is Dr. Ashby,” He began. "Y/N overdosed on drugs. We pumped her stomach. It’s highly unlikely any permanent damage has been done from the pills, but she has fractured a small part of her forehead. We believe that she has a concussion. She’s resting right now. We don’t know when she’ll wake up, but she will be okay.”

“Do you think she did it on purpose?” Tom asks softly, eyes glistening and red. 

The doctor sighed. “In my professional opinion, no. There wasn’t enough in her system to kill her or do any permanent damage. However, if you want a more accurate opinion, you should ask the officers that went to the hotel or Y/N after she’s had some time to recover.”

“Thank you Dr. Asby," 

The doctor left. The sounds of sniffling and soft crying still filled the room. Hours ticked by slowly. Too slowly.

"Are you okay, Chris?” Robert asked, placing a hand on his shoulder. Chris looked up at him. His dark hair was messy and his eyes were watery like the rest of theirs. Chris sighed and shook his head.

“There was so much blood,” He started. “Her lips were purple- she was dying. She didn’t even know I was there.” Robert sat next to him.

“I was with her before it happened. I could-”

“Don’t do that to yourself, Chris. You couldn’t have known that this was going to happen.”

“I know,” Chris rubbed his face, then ran a hand through his hair.

“You found her, and she’s going to be okay. That’s what matters right now,”

_____________________

The sound of beeping and ringing woke you up. It was constant, loud and probably the most annoying thing that you could have ever imagined waking up to. You patted your bedside, looking for your phone to turn off the alarm and stop the ringing. The sharp stench of bleach filled your nose, making you cringe. Your hotel did not smell like bleach.

Something’s wrong.

You opened your eyes, wincing at the bright lights. You brought an arm up cover your eyes only to find that you were hooked up to a machine. A heart monitor was at your side.

Okay. Why the fuck am I in a hospital? What the fuck? Why does my head hurt so fucking bad?

You sat up, despite feeling weak. You glanced around and began to panic, half tempted to bolt. You hated hospitals. That was a mistake. With the heart rate speeding up , the heart monitor followed suit. Your head throbbed from the added noise. Lying back down, you closed your eyes, taking deep breaths to try and think through whatever the fuck landed you in a hospital with this amount of head pain.

I was on a walk. It was night and I was with Seb and Chris. I went to a store. I bought some sleeping pills. I took them. Oh, my god. I overdosed. But why does my head hurt so fucking much?

You tried sitting up again after a few minutes. This time, you did it slow enough and kept calm enough to process everything that happened and why you were in a hospital.

Soon enough, a nurse came in. She smiled gently when she saw you awake. “Hi, Y/N. How are feeling?”

“My head hurts. A lot. What happened?”

“You overdosed on pills and you fractured your forehead I’m going to call your doctor, hang tight.” She said, still smiling.

Okay. I overdosed on pills by accident. And broke my skull. Okay. What the fuck. I could have died. Cool. What the fuck is wrong with me?

You took a few deep breaths as you waited for the doctor. He didn’t take long to get there, surprisingly. He was older, had thinning hair and a small beer belly. “Good evening, Miss Y/L/N. My name is Dr. Ashby. How is your head?”

“It hurts. A lot. My ears are ringing”

He nods, writing what you said on a clipboard. “Do you remember what happened?”

“I was on a walk with two of my coworkers and I bought some sleeping pills. I took some and I woke up here.”

“Were you trying to harm yourself at all?”

You shake your head. Another mistake. More pain shot through your head, making your wince, and hold your forehead where the pain was at its worst. “No, no. I just wanted to sleep.”

He gives you another nod, writing that down as well. 

“What happened?” You ask. 

"You overdosed on pills. We don’t think any permanent damage was done, but we’d like to run some tests to confirm that,” He began, placing his pen in the clipboard. “You hit your head and you likely have a moderate concussion. We’ll run some tests for that too." 

"What time is it?” The doctor checks his watch. 

“It is 1 AM." 

"How long was I out?" 

"A little more than a day." 

"When can I leave?” You ask, trying to keep the desperation out of your voice. 

“We’re going to start running some tests, and once those come back we’ll discuss them and after that, we can let you go.”

“How long will that be?”

“We have a few blood tests that need to be run. Those will take a week to ten days to get back. Don’t worry, you don’t have to tay for those. However, we do have to run a couple diagnostics to see what happened to your head. We can have you out tomorrow or the day after. 

You let out a sigh of relief, shoulders slumping. “Thanks Dr. Ashby.”

He asked a series of questions and had you do a series of tasks, confirming that you did give yourself a concussion. After that was done, a nurse came into take your blood. After she left, you laid back in your bed, the ringing in your ears growing louder. 

Fuck. The media probably has their dirty little paws all over this. Y/N Y/L/N in the Hospital After Overdose. Marvel Actress Dies After Overdose, just kidding she’s alive. 

You sigh and close your eyes, wishing this was just a bad dream that you could wake up from. But the bandages on your head, the ringing in your ears and the monitors say otherwise. You struggle to fall back asleep, but when you do its fitful and full of unrest.

The morning came too quickly. Visiting hours started at nine and you knew your co-stars and likely a bunch of reporters were going to want to see you. It wasn’t that you didn’t care about your co-stars- it wasn’t that at all. You loved the people you worked with, but you scared of how they were going to react to what happened. 

“Good morning, Y/N,” Your nurse said. She was really sweet and wore a smile whenever you saw her. 

“Good morning,” You smile back, taking the meds she gave you. 

“Visiting hours begin in 15 minutes. I know you’re nervous. Don’t worry about any reporters or anyone like that coming in. We’ve made sure that no one of those sorts are allowed in.” That was a huge relief. 

“Thank you,” You’re sure you visibly relaxed. 

“You’re welcome, dear. Do you need anything else?" 

"No, thanks again,” She left the room, leaving you to your own devices. 

At exactly nine in the morning, Chris shuffles into your room with a bear and a small bouquet of sunflowers. 

“Hey,” He said softly. He looked rough. His hair was clean but untamed and his eyes were red. He was wearing a sweater and some jeans. You looked back down at the bed because what the fuck were you supposed to say? 

Hi, I’m so sorry for almost killing myself accidentally. Oops, guess my hand slipped and took too many pills when I was just trying to get to sleep. Yeah, no. 

“How are you feeling?” He pressed when you said nothing, placing a hand on your shoulder, rubbing it lightly. You shrugged, picking at the blanket on the bed. 

“C'mon, talk to me. What’s been goin’ on, kid?" 

"I don’t wanna talk about it,” You say softly. 

“Not talking about it isn’t working,” His voice hardened slightly.

“It was an accident,” You say, voice cracking. “I didn’t mean to, I just wanted to sleep.” Chris sighs, laying the flowers and bear on a chairs behind him. 

“Scoot over,” He says. You gave him a strange look as he stood above your bed, tears welling up in your eyes.

“I won’t bite. Promise,” 

You scoot to the other side of the bed. He half-sits half-stands and wraps his arms around you, placing a gentle hand on the back of your head, mindful of your injury, and cradles your head against his warm chest. He smells like soft mint. You feel safe. More tears well up in your eyes as you wrapped your arms around him in return. 

“Did you want to hurt yourself?” He was shaking lightly.

“No, I swear. I just wanted to get some sleep. That’s it. I don’t remember anything but taking a couple pills.” He sighed, your head rising and falling with his chest. 

“You scared the shit out of us, kid.” His voice wobbled, some tears fell in your hair. “God, don’t ever do that again,” He buried his face in your hair. You knew he was crying. You were too, the tears flowing freely down your face. 

“I’m sorry,” You say softly. “I really didn’t mean to.” He didn’t say anything else, he just held onto you. 

Maybe I can tell him. He can help. He obviously cares. He wouldn’t show up if he didn’t care about me. Just be honest. 

“I was doing homework,” You mumble, hiding your face in his chest. If you were going to tell him what’s been going on, there was no way you could look at him in the face. You’d back out and pretend everything was okay. He didn’t say anything. And if he reacted, you couldn’t see it. 

“I’m failing three of my classes. It was too hard to focus so I just turned it in. I wanted to go to bed so I looked for my sleeping pills, but I ran out. That’s why I asked you to go to the store with me.” You sit up and wipe the tears off your eyes. “I took some and they weren’t working so I took more. Then my hands were burning. That’s all I remember,”

Chris’s arms tightened around you, drawing you back to him. “You hit your head. There was a lot of blood, and your lips turned purple. I thought you were dying.”

“I’m sorry,” You say, breath hitching as you began to cry steadily again. You spent the next few moments crying into his chest. 

He must’ve found me. Fuck. Fuck me, fuck me. I’m terrible. 

“I’m so sorry, Chris, I am. I’m sorry,” You sputtered out, clutching his shirt in your hands. 

“I know. I forgive you now that I know you’re okay. Take a deep breath. It’s okay,” He says, running a hand up and down your back. He started to breath melodramatically and you followed suit, soon calming down enough to stop crying. 

“Everyone else wants to see you, but there’s a two person limit." 

"Then why’d you come alone?” Chris shook his head, reaching for the bear. He handed it to you.

“A bear?” A brown bear specifically. A brown bear dressed as Captain America with black dark blue buttons for eyes even more specifically.

“Yeah, I thought that if I couldn’t be there for you then another Captain America could,” 

“You know I’m not six, right?” You couldn’t help the smile that tugged on your lips. 

Chris shrugged, eyes still wet. You leaned over and hugged him again. 

“Thank you,” You say, voice cracking. “For everything.”

“Anything for you, Y/N.”

[spooky-luvur]

Loving “Family”

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Van der Linde Gang x M! Reader (platonic) (what’s the word for family love)

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(Warnings: homophobia, m*cah)

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“Oi, (M/n), I got a question for ya!”

Sean slinks an arm around your shoulders, steering you away from your daily chore and pulling you to the middle of camp to face the girls’ wagon, where the four woman were sitting and chatting.

“Which one of the ladies do ya fancy the most, eh? Which one makes ya heart beat right out of yer chest? Tickles your pickle?” Sean laughs his Sean laugh, giving you a small shake.

“Uh, Sean, I don’t think we should be-“

“Don’t avoid the question dear (M/n)! I know for a fact that at least one of ‘em you like!”

You hesitate, voice catching in your throat as your eyes scan over the woman. They were all very pretty, and had very good traits that made them desirable, but, they weren’t for you. Your tastes were a bit...different.

You debated telling Sean, but, he was a loudmouth. A very loud, loudmouth. You give him one small secret and he’s off blabbering it to the whole camp.

But this wasn’t a small secret you were keeping. Letting the wrong person know could possibly end up with a rope around your neck. Even if it was a tad more accepted in these times.

These troubling times.

“Well I...don’t really focus on women...Sean...”

He looks at you, raising a brow before grinning.

“Course ya don’t! Always giving your attention to yer chores or some other waste of time, I get it.”

“No, Sean. I don’t focus on...women.”

His brow furrows as he searches your face, wondering what you could possibly mean.

Then it clicks.

And yes, as you expected, several heads turn at Sean’s triumphant yell.

“I always had a feeling, I did! Never spared a lady a second glance, eh?

“Sean-“

“Always sneakin’ glances at the big boys when they’re doing work!”

“Sean please-“

“I don’t know if they’ve noticed but Sean here sure as fuck has!”

“Sean oh my god-“

“Noticed what?”

Before you can do anything, the young Irishman had already whipped around to face Karen, the other girls trailing a bit behind, always eager to figure out something new about a gang member.

“Little (M/n) here has got a secret he’s been keeping from us!”

Your frown deepens. You didn’t mind the girls knowing all about you, but you sure as hell minded the others knowing. Sean meant well, you’re sure, but sometimes he just doesn’t know when to shut up, even if it’ll kill him.

“Well I’ll be, I thought you was family, (M/n).” Karen teases.

“He’s talking nonsense-“

“Go on then, (M/n), tell them! I cross my little Irish heart I won’t spill something so important myself!”

“Yes, (M/n), why don’t you tell us?”

You feel like drowning yourself in the nearby stream at the sound of Dutch’s voice. Your turn to face him and the majority of the rest of the camp that had gathered as well. God, if you lived through this, Sean wasn’t gonna have a little Irish heart anymore.

“It’s nothing important Dutch, I swear, Sean’s crazy!”

“We all know that, son, but If it’s not so important, why do you think you have to keep it a secret?”

Dutch knew you weren’t a traitor or anything like that, no. He was just genuinely interested. He meant no harm. But your eyes flicker over to Micah, who has his nasty little smirk on his face. He meant harm. He always means harm.

“I’m just- I-“ the lump in your throat chokes you, and you have to rub your arms and take a deep breath to calm down.

“It’s just- I’m not exactly...into...women. I’m more into...men.”

There nothing for the first few moments, and several different escape plans start flying though your head.

Then you wince from Hosea’s sharp slap against the back of your head, brining a hand up to rub the pain away.

“You fool, you were worried about telling us that?”

Blinking, you only gape at him as he goes to stand next to Dutch, who has a smile on his face. “You are you, son. Are you still loyal to us?”

“Of course!”

“Then nothing else matters.” He pats your shoulder before just trotting off, along with a few others who were expecting something more severe.

“Ah, poor man, you really thought we would just hate you for it?” Sean lightly pushes your shoulder, a fake hurt look on his face.

“Well-“

“Mr. (L/n)! Who you’re into don’t matter worth shit! Now get back to your chores!”

“Yes Miss Grimshaw!”

————

The day goes on as it always does. Nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing changes. Javier still sings and plays his guitar, Miss Grimshaw still barks orders at the girls, Mary-Beth still sits with a book always in her hand, Arthur still does his chores, Dutch still smokes his cigar, Molly still fixes her hair in the mirror, Kieran still tends to the horses, nothings different.

What were you so afraid of?

Your answer comes to you sooner than you’d like. Sitting around the main campfire, listening to one of Uncles (probably fake) stories. Sat between Arthur and Sean, there’s a contempt smile on your face, before your eyes travel up from the orange fire, locking with Micah’s cold blue ones. The smile disappears, and you immediately snap your gaze back to the ground. You seem to be the only one that hears the mans dark chuckle. He gets up, and you don’t bother looking to see where he goes.

A few hours later, it’s late enough for everyone to call it a night and head to bed. Sean slaps you on the back, throwing your a wide grin before he goes off to his tent. You stand and make your way to your own, thankfully single person tent. Before you enter you shrug of your coat, hanging it over the hitching post right outside of it.

“Awe, I knew there was something else about you, cowpoke.”

You straighten up, turning halfway. “There’s always something you don’t like about a person, Mr. Bell. Choose to ignore it.”

But there’s a hand on your shoulder before you can enter your tent. A harsh force that pulls you away, nearly making you stumble.

“Come on (M/n), you don’t gotta be so cold. After all, I thought you liked folk like me?”

God, he’s a bastard.

You clench your jaw, trying not to yell. You didn’t want the whole camp to wake up because a certain someone wasn’t happy.

“Fuck off Micah, like I’d ever be interested in folk like you.”

There’s a sudden movement, a pain in your face, and then you’re on the ground. This time you do let out a yell from the pain. Micah Bell is a lot of things, but he’s not physically weak, that’s for damn sure.

Your frantic eyes blink up at him through forced tears, a hand covering your now broken nose. Warm blood trails over your parted lips.

“You’re real damn confident now that your secrets out, huh, cowpoke?!”

People had begun to file out of their tents, a few grabbing their guns, startled by the sudden noises.

“Can’t get a woman to fuck you so you gotta take a cock?!”

“That is enough!”

Dutch’s tired but loud voice sounds throughout the entire camp. By now everyone had come over to see what all the commotion was. No one was surprised to find out it was just Micah being an ass.

Dutch pulls him away from you while another pair of strong hands help you up.

Micah faces Dutch, a glare still on his face. But Dutch isn’t having any of it. “Mr. Bell, when I said we accepted everyone, I meant...everyone. Now go for a ride, I don’t want to see your face until morning, you got that?”

Micah doesn’t say another word before stomping off to Baylock. Several glares from the rest of the gang are sent his way.

“Miss Grimshaw, help Mr. (L/n) with that nose, everyone else, get back to bed!”

Through the blood and the pain, a small, crooked grin makes its way onto your face.

It’s good to know you’ve got such a loving family.

————

(Posted 5-30-20)

————

[elysiandream144]

Perfect Part 1 (A Songfic)

Hi! This is my first time writing a BoyxBoy Songfic, it’ll be a 2 part fanfic using the song “Little Miss Perfect” and “Ordinary” I’m hoping you guys like it! Dream and George are both 18 (NOT PROOFREAD)

Straight hair, straight A's, straight forward Straight past,  I don't cut corners I make a point to be on time Head of the student council

Dream was walking down the halls of his school, everyone knew him and his friend, Sapnap. They got good grades and were the jokesters of their schools, they played infamous pranks and jokes in their classes. “I heard that a new kid is coming, aren’t you supposed to meet with him?” Sapnap ask

“I’m supposed to but I had to work on something this morning so Bad was showing him around but I have to talk to him after school to see how he’s adjusting.” Dream replied, “Aw man! I was hoping to ask for a ride home but since you’re busy I might as well just walk” Sapnap said.

I don't black out at parties I jam to Paul McCartney If you asked me how I'm doing I'll say... well 

“Are you gonna go to Fundy’s party this Saturday?” Sapnap ask “I have to, Who else will drive your drunk ass home” Dream answered, Sapnap let out a laugh “Will you have fun or will you be a stick in a mud” he ask another question “You know I don’t get wasted, I’ll have a drink or two but that’s all. Either way I’m the designated driver for the two of us” Dream told Sap

I was adopted when I was two My parents spoiled me rotten, often I ask myself what did I do To get as far as I've gotten

Dream had always tried to be the perfect son so he tried to do many things to be that, he got good grades, does after school curriculums, doesn’t get wasted at parties, head of the student counsel and many others. He wanted his parents to be proud of him for being able to do so much while also volunteering at his community as well as doing twitch streams.

A pretty girl walks by my locker My heart gives a flutter but I don't dare utter a word 'Cause that would be absurd Behavior for "Little Miss Perfect"

The bell rang, “Alright, I’ll see you later. I have to get to Physics” Dream said, waving to Sapnap, “See ya” Sapnap replied. Dream started walking to his class, a few others already there. “I heard we’re gonna have a new kid in this class” A random girl said “I hear that he’s really cute and that he moved here from the UK!” her friend said. They were talking quite loudly and soon enough nearly everyone was talking about the new kid

“Alright class, settle down. We have a new student joining us” The teacher said. He was in front of the Whiteboard. A boy, shorter than Dream, entered the room, he wore a light blue shirt, dark blue denim jeans, black converse and a pair of white clout glasses on his head. “Go ahead and introduce yourself” The teacher said “Hello, my name is George” the boy said  

La-la-la-la-la- love Is something I don't even know

Dream’s eyes widen, he didn’t believe in true love or any of those romantic bullshit but he remembered hearing George’s voice before on twitch, he was looking for someone to raid and he stumbled up an account ‘GeorgeNotFound’, he watched a bit of the stream before raiding and continued watching George. Dream remembered how his chat after Dream had donated 10 dollars to George, he felt his face flush.

Straight hair, straight A's, straight forward Straight girl "Little Miss Perfect" That's me

“George, why don’t you go ahead and sit down next to Clay?” The teacher said “Clay, raise your hand please” They added, Dream did as the teacher asked of him, George making his way to the empty desk that was behind Dream. “Now if you have any question, feel free to ask Clay. he’s one of my best students” 

George nodded to the teacher, he didn’t talk to Dream and Dream didn’t attempt to strike a conversation. 

One night, my friend stayed over We laughed And drank and ordered Something about her drew me in... What? It's totally platonic

After school, Dream met George at the front of the student council room “Oh hey, Clay right?’ George asks ‘Yeah, but everyone calls me Dream” He replied “Cool, I was told to come here to answer a few questions I believe” George said “Yeah, just a few questions” Dream said.

When Dream was done asking George the questions, he was preparing to leave until George had asked if Dream could go to his place to help with physics. Dream agreed to help for a while.

That night, was so exciting Her smirks were so enticing Hours speed by like seconds Then, what happens is iconic

Once they arrived at George's house, they settled in the living room. No one else was in the house, George's parents were at work and George had no siblings so it was just them alone together. They sat next to each other, Dream answered any question George asked him, “Are you hungry? I can order us Ubereats if you would like” George asked Dream “Sure, I can go for something to eat” Dream answered 

They had gotten their food and their drinks and spent a while just talking and watching tv, although they wouldn’t say it out loud but even if they had just met that day they were fond of being in the other company

She takes a sip I bite my lip She tells a joke I nearly choke She braids my hair I sit there, blacking out for the first time

During their episode of a show they weren’t remotely paying attention to, Dream was telling a hilarious story that happened between him and Sapnap that had made George laugh. Dream trailed off and realized how cute George was when he was laughing, it made his face flush and he looked away from George to hide his burning face.

Next thing I know I lose control I finally kiss her but oh no I see a face in my window Then my brain starts to go:

George and Dream had somehow gotten closer together while they were eating, the room felt warmer than before “Should we continue working now?” Dream asked George to try and subside his budding feelings, George nodded. Dream had placed his hand close to where George had his, he was hoping that Geoge didn’t notice what he had done but he didn’t take in account for George to intertwine their fingers together. 

Dream felt his face burning even more, he glanced quickly at George to see if George was suffering though a similar turmoil, George’s pale face was a light reddish pink color. Dream felt a surge of confidence go through him, he went to intertwine their hands completely together until George’s mom entered causing Dream to move his hand away immediately.

Na-na-na-na-na- no You can't risk falling off your throne La-la-la-la-la- love Is something you don't even know

His heart was pounding, he was shaking from the thought of being caught holding hands with someone. For his entire life he never showed any romantic interest towards anyone, sure he went on a few dates with a couple of girls though due to his busy schedule he just figured it was pointless to date someone so he never tried to, but being with George made him feel something entirely new and he wasn’t sure if he liked it or not.

Na-na-na-na-na- no You can't risk falling off your throne La-la-la-la-la-la- love You don't even know

George spared a glance at Dream before moving his hand to his side “Hey mom, this is an acquaintance of mine from school” George said “It’s a pleasure to meet you, it’s getting quite late though, do you plan on staying longer?” His mom asked Dream “Oh! It is getting late, I should get going. I’ll see you tomorrow George” Dream said getting up, throwing his trash away and leaving without waiting for George to respond

Rewind, induce amnesia Deny the truth, it's easier You're just confused Believe her When she says that there's nothing there It's never worth it... When you're "little miss perfect"

When Dream got home, he ran up to his room. He didn’t interact with his siblings or parents. He needed time to be alone, he got a message from a random number ‘Sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I hope we can continue being friends tho’ He knew immediately who it was, he wanted to reply but he didn’t know how. He wanted to figure himself out, he had just met George, he didn’t understand why his heart was pounding when they were just hanging out like he did with Sapnap.

Dream was confused, and he didn't like it at all.

[unwhithered]

The Clone Wars/Jedi Musketeers prompt fic

@fuzzytale prompted: “ i love you, every part of you. even the parts you don’t like. ” For the Jedi Musketeers boys, whichever combo you like

And I wrote you a whole ass 2k word fic for this prompt & Porthos, on top of the one for Aramis. AND I made it Clone Wars and sad for good measure.

“Any news?” Commander Edee asks, falling in at Porthos’ side as he descends the stairs. Only the roof of the bombed out tower receives enough signal to get a message out, even a local one. Given that what’s left of the roof consists of three durasteel beams and is in direct eye line of enemy snipers, Porthos has banned anyone but himself from venturing above the tenth floor.

Mouth set in a grim line, Porthos shakes his head. “I couldn’t raise any of the other companies, or the ship. I’m sorry.”

“I see.” Edee tucks his bucket under his arm as he pauses to look out a broken window. Below is a sea of green and gray - local Separatists and droids, hunkered down behind their shield generators and awaiting darkness to press the attack once more. Both men know it will be the last attack. Edee’s eyes are golden in the dying light of the twin suns, the scar on his right cheek a canyon of shadow, an entire landscape painted in the grooves and scratches of his black-and-gold armor. The long campaign has left no time for repairing his usually meticulous paint. Force, he looks far too old and weary for someone who feels so young. Grief for a loss that hasn’t even happened yet hits Porthos like a blow to the chest as Edee glances up at him. “It’s not such a bad place to die, is it?”

“No,” Porthos hums, leaning on the opposite side of the window. Ignoring the grind of bone on bone in his chest is becoming steadily harder, his breaths more labored, and he’s silently grateful for the chance to gather himself before descending to join their remaining troops on the 8th floor. “No, I don’t suppose it is.”

Though Edee’s face remains neutral a tidal wave of emotions builds around him in the Force. Porthos lets his eyes slip shut to better see his Commander as he truly is - helpless red rage, guilt spreading like an oil slick between them, grief like the bite of bitter citrus under his tongue, and love. Despite it all, so much love. “I was just starting to believe our lucky streak might hold long enough for you to show me Coruscant, sir.”

Porthos swallows hard. Born and bred for nothing but a war he has no stake in, and Edee still believes in luck. It strikes him again how good this man is, loyal and kind despite his lack of freedom, his constant losses. Porthos wishes he had followed Aramis in refusing to take part in this pointless, brutal affair. He wishes that he could keep his promise to show the 78th the heart of the Republic their brothers are dying to protect. He wishes...but wishes are for children. A Jedi Knight faces reality. Even the reality of his own death.

“C’mere,” he commands, crooking the fingers that still bend. Edee obeys, lurching forward on his probably-broken foot to stand in Porthos’ shadow, just out of sight of any potential snipers. “Close your eyes.”

Porthos ducks to rest his forehead against Edee’s, ignoring the sour scent of their mingled breath and the distant decay of bodies as he breathes deeply. Powdered duracrete scrapes between their brows and the last rays of sunlight retreat to leave them in steadily deeper purple shadows. He tunes it out, tunes it all out, and sinks into a memory of the Coruscant of his youth.

“It’s never dark on Coruscant,” he murmurs, pushing an image of the view from his room in Master Treville’s quarters into Edee’s mind. It’s harder, with a non Force sensitive, but after a year of living side by side in the trenches there’s enough of a bond between them that he manages. The scent of Aramis’ favorite night blooming flowers weaves into the memory, real enough that Edee inhales and doesn’t even smell death on the air.

“It’s beautiful,” he breathes.

“That’s nothing.” One after the others, Porthos shares memories that feel a lifetime away. Coruscant from space, a glittering ball of light and life. The sharp taste of adrenaline and exhaust fumes as he weaves through air traffic on an illegally modified swoop bike, Athos and Aramis darting in and out of sight as they race back to the Temple before curfew. A cool breeze off the waterfall in the Room of a Thousand Fountains, Aramis’ laughter bubbling along with the stream they’re laying beside, grass under their fingers and Athos’ thigh warm beneath his cheek. Home.

Edee stumbles back, gasping, as the whine of engines overhead signals the end of the day. As the first bomb lights the night Porthos spots tear tracks carving muddy lines through the dirt and blood on his face.

“Thank you, sir,” Edee says, the last word warped by the speakers as he slams his helmet on. “Oya!”

“Oya.” Porthos grunts, wiping at his own eyes with the back of a filthy glove. “K’oyacyi, Edee, and may the Force be with you.”

Another explosion shakes the already fragile building, raining duracrete around them. Edee salutes informally and turns to take the stairs three at a time, calling back over his shoulder, “Ib’tuur jatne tuur ash’ad kyr’amur.” It’s a good day for someone else to die.

In the half second Porthos takes to send up a prayer to the Force and one last wave of lovegrieflongingI’msorry to the four points of light in the back of his mind, everything explodes in heat and fire and pain.

--------

Porthos wakes, rather unexpectedly given that his last memory is of being blown up. Bacta and ash make an unsettling combination on his tongue, and he finds his mouth too dry to swallow the taste away. The resulting coughing fit forces him into a curled position on his side, one arm reflexively clutching ribs that aren’t broken anymore. 

“Easy,” a familiar voice soothes. “Breathe, Porthos.” 

Something cold presses against his lips and Porthos opens his mouth automatically, lets a steady hand push an ice chip between his lips. The sweet relief of cool, clean water dissolving on his tongue draws a groan from him and chases the lingering coughing fit away. More ice chips follow, fed by a hand that lingers on his cheek in between, until Porthos is conscious enough to recognize the presence beside him as Athos.

“That’s enough,” he grunts, batting Athos’ hand away as reality begins to filter through the haze. Sifting through his memories feels like struggling out from under a heavy blanket, a feeling he recognizes as Force-assisted sleep. He must have Athos to thank for that. It takes him three attempts to sit up, the last time finally accepting Athos’ steadying hands on his shoulders. Only then does he crack his eyes open. There are deep bruises under Athos’ eyes and lines on his face that weren’t there when Porthos last saw him, nearly a year ago now. “Happened?”

“We arrived just in time to watch a tower collapse on you,” Athos replies. Usually the least physically affectionate among them, he can’t seem to stop touching Porthos. Reassuring himself the other man is in fact alive and whole by holding his shoulder, cupping his cheek, threading his fingers through the tangled hair behind Porthos’ ear and rubbing his thumb over the thin skin there. “You’ve been in bacta for two weeks.”

“Edee?” he asks, bracing himself for the answer. “My Commander? My men?”

“I’m sorry, my friend. We found another company sheltered elsewhere in the city, nearly intact, but your flagship was destroyed in orbit, and none of the men in your location survived.” Athos digs in the pocket of his robe, offering a scuffed and cracked object to Porthos. A gauntlet. Edee’s gauntlet, a golden 78 in scratched paint above the knuckles, blood between the finger joints. 

-------

Athos has to step back quickly to avoid being knocked over when Porthos surges to his feet with a wordless snarl. Machines scream as he pulls wires and tubes from his arms and chest - Athos silences them with a wave of his hand before any of the medics come running into their private room. A growing prickle of unease at the back of his neck, something he has learned not to ignore over the years, tells him this is a moment no one else should see.

“What took you so long?” The very air around them shimmers as Porthos rounds on him, the room suddenly too small for his presence. “Where were the reinforcements we asked for weeks ago? We were abandoned! A hundred fifty thousand men in that invasion and you’re tellin’ me a hundred survived.”

Something behind Athos cracks loudly, and across the room trays of instruments crash to the floor. He stands steady and watches as Porthos prowls the space between them without ever closing it entirely. “Your messages never reached the Council or the Senate. My battalion wasn’t sent to rescue you, Porthos - I came because I felt your distress as we were returning to Coruscant.”

“Never reached the…” Porthos’ expression collapses from rage to grief, an unfamiliar hopelessness in his eyes. He wavered, the energy draining from the room, leaving a cold void in its place. “Force, they just left us out there alone. All my men, and no one even knew.”

Just like the flash of knowledge that tells Athos where a blow or a blaster bolt will land a breath before his attacker even moves, Athos steps forward to catch Porthos just before his knees buckle. He’s lighter than Athos remembers, a larger than life figure made small by the endless grind of war, campaign after grueling campaign that wears them all into shadows of their former selves. He goes easily into the nearest chair, Athos folding himself down to kneel at Porthos’ feet.

“No one left to remember them.”

Catching Porthos’ hands before they can cover his face, Athos threads their fingers together and squeezes. “You will remember them.”

“How long until I’m gone, too, and then there’s really no one?” Porthos barks out a painful laugh. “Kriff, how long until all of us are gone? Our whole Order? Aramis was right. We lost this war the second we started fightin’ it.”

“Don’t talk like that,” Athos snaps. His jaw flexes and he takes several deep breaths, deliberately softening his voice before he speaks again. Kriff it all, he wishes Aramis was here. He’s always been better at this comforting business. “We made a pact. One for all. I’ll hear no talk of you dying without us.”

Porthos snorts and tries to lean back, stopped by Athos’ unrelenting grip on his hands. “That was a lifetime ago, ‘thos. I don’t even know who the boy who made that pact is anymore. ‘M not him anymore, that’s sure. Force,” he looks to the ceiling, blinking hard, “maybe we shoulda listened to all that attachment talk. ‘Mis left us, you and Constance and d’Ar are all across the galaxy, fighting this war I barely even believe in for Senators who never see the sufferin’. Leading an army that’s no better ‘n slaves. I’m out here on my own and I don’t recognize myself anymore.”

“I recognize you,” Athos replies, quiet but fierce as he kisses Porthos’ scarred knuckles, then the palm he opens to cup Athos’ bearded cheek. “This war has changed us all, it’s true, but I recognize you. Porthos du Vallon, Jedi Knight. My friend.” Looking up at Porthos’ disbelieving face, he searches desperately for the right thing to say. Remembers something he and Porthos had told Aramis once, and Aramis and Porthos had told Athos in turn. “Whatever this war has changed in you, I still love you, every part of you. Even the parts you don’t like. Even the parts you don’t recognize anymore. That will have to be enough.

[dragonslayer-5fanfiction]

My Burly Love Chapter 7

Alright so it’s a day late, but I got it up. I would like to get up the next chapter within the next week. 

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Bilbo clambered down the overlook.

“How far are the orcs?” Dwalin asked before he even got all the way down the outlook.

“A couple of leagues at most, but that’s not the worst of it.”

“Did they see you?” Gandalf asked

“What? No, we have a bigger problem.”

“Did I not tell you he’d make an excellent burglar? Quiet as a mouse.”

“GUYS! I have been trying to tell you that there is something else out there.” An exasperated Bilbo stated.

Gandalf’s face turned dark, “What form did he take? Like a bear?”

“Yes, yes, but bigger much bigger.” 

“You knew about this beast?” Bofur turned to Gandalf with an accusatory tone.

I sat back watching everyone argue, somewhere to my left someone said to double back. Dwalin was not pleased with this option and gruffed out that we would be overtaken. While true, I’m not sure that taking our chances with the bear would be that bad. 

“There is a house not far from here, we could use.”

“Are they friend or foe?” 

“Neither. He will help us or he will kill us.” 

“What choice do we have?” Just then we heard the howling of the orcs. They were moving closer and closer. 

“We don’t have the time to sit around.” I responded.

“We don’t have a choice.” Gandalf stated. We gathered our things and broke into a run. The light of the moon can only illuminate so much, however we ran for almost an entire day. I only stumbled a few times. Thankfully Fili caught me, every time. I turned over my shoulder and there was this giant black bear chasing us. I mean ten times the size of a regular bear. I let out a small screech and tripped again. 

“Lass that’s enough of that.” Fili said as he picked me up and kept running. Apparently my tripping was slowing him down. We finally made it to a house even bigger than the bear. The bear was approaching fast, and rammed itself the door almost causing it to splinter. We were bracing it so that wouldn’t happen. 

“What is that?” Ori asked.

“That is our host.” Gandalf replied looking around, “He is a skin changer, sometimes he takes on the form of a big strong man, sometimes a bear. The bear is unpredictable, but the man can be reasoned with.”

I lowered myself off of Fili’s back. I turned in a circle taking it all in, everything was huge. It was like a giant lived here. We all broke away and found piles of hay to lay on. Let me tell you that these piles are some of the most comfortable things I’ve slept on since I left. I laid my things out, and made sure to be as far away from Dwalin as I possibly could. That meant I ended up next to Bofur. Not that I don’t like Bofur, I do, it’s just that he’s not Dwalin. And however angry I am at him, it hurts me not to be near him. I slowly drifted off to sleep. 

I awoke to something buzzing above me. I peeled open my eyes, and found a bee, much bigger than a normal one, gently floating above me. I sat up and it buzzed around my head then flew off. I giggled at it’s antics and got up. Everyone was crowded around the Kitchen window. 

“What’s going on?” I asked wiping the sleep from my eyes. 

“Gandalf is talking to the big man, and we are waiting for the signal to come out.” Bofur explained. I simply nodded my head and waited for the signal. I watched as each of the families went out, and the big bear became less and less enchanted with each dwarf that came out. Bofur stepped out, and I waited a moment before I decided it was time that I came out. 

I walked out, and stopped for a brief moment to look around, then I walked out. “The Bear!” I exclaimed rushing forward. “Bear, I have so many questions for you. Why is everything here so big? Does it hurt when you change into a bear? Do you get cold like us? How strong are you, cause you look really strong. Oh my gosh-” I gasped, “-I’m being so rude. I should have started off with what’s your name? I just have so many questions.”

Gandalf, ran his hand down his face. Everyone waited with baited breath to see what the bear was going to do. He looked down at me, and laughed. He laughed at me. The audacity!

“Excuse me, Bear, but I don’t appreciate being laughed at.” I stomped my foot to make my point. He laughed harder at me. 

“I like this one. She’s got fire.” He looked at me and offered his hand, “My name is Beorn, not Bear.” 

“Beorn.” I said his name, testing how it felt falling from my lips. “Beorn. Beorn.” I decided at that moment, that I quite like the way it feels to say it. “Beorn, I quite like that. My name is Y/N.” We stood there for a moment, and then we all moved inside. Beorn was kind enough to make us breakfast. I ate, and then Dwalin asked if I was ready to train.

I grabbed my sword and trailed after Dwalin. Since the night, where we almost kissed, he’s closed himself off. He won’t talk to me, he doesn’t seem to want to be around me. My best friend, the one I’m closest with on this quest, doesn’t want to be around me. I’m very hurt by this, so I’ve started pushing him away as well. 

I’ve gotten the foundational moves down, so now we can actually spar. We were just going at it, however Dwalin is pushing harder than he usually does. He’s being relentless. 

“Stop. Stop. I need a break.”

“Do ye think that in battle, ye’ll get a break? No. Ye keep going.” He lifted his ax, and went to swing again. I let out a yelp, and rolled away from him. 

“NO. Stop. I need a break.” I held up my hands, knowing he wouldn’t attack me without my weapon. He finally put his ax down. “What is with you today, you don’t ever do this with me.” He only let out a grunt. “No, that’s not good enough. Use your words. What is going on lately, you’ve been weird.”

He turned his head and gave me a hard stare. “Nothin’ is goin’ on wit me.” He turned away. I stood there thinking about the past couple of weeks, and how he’s been acting. 

“Do you not like me?” 

“What are ye on about?”

I huffed, “The other day you acted like I burned you, and now you’re avoiding me. Do you not like me?” I emphasised every word of the question, bending down to pick up my sword. 

“I’m not talkin’ about this right now.” He grunted. 

“Well I am.” I gestured to myself, “If you don’t like me. Fine,” I threw my hands into the air, pointing my sword at him. “But don’t lead me on. “ I started swinging. First at nothing, then at Dwalin. 

“Lass I’m not lead-”

“Like hell you aren’t! You play nice and almost kiss me, and then act like I don’t even exist.” My fist clenched around my sword and I swung at him harder. “Like I’m below you.” I movements were becoming quicker and more forceful as the tears streamed down my face. In my frenzy I nicked his arm. The blood seeps as quickly as my tears.

“ARGH! Lass I don’t think you’re below me, it’s just that-”

I cut him off, “YOU BET YOUR ASS I’M NOT! I’M DONE WITH YOU-YOU -YOU CRUSTY OLD SHOE BUCKLE!” I threw my sword at him and stalked back to the house. Anything to get away from him.  

Chapter 8

Taglist: @fentah, @reignofglitter, @perseny-blog, @xxdragonagequeenxx,@captainrainbowpanda, @hufflepuff25, @swoopswishsward , @tumblinglringlring, @awkwardsleepyturtle

[dw-writes]

Well, I want to see our Werewolves, of course. The small downside to the show is that a lot of the characters are underdeveloped or we don't get to know them. But I do kind of like Alyssa and I like Kyle (Yes, he's an ass, but I still like him. I like the actor and I have thing for guys with curly hair) Also this is my HCs, Kyle's last name is Prescott. So, can you add Alyssa and Kyle and Amir was cute and nice.

I had to go back and look up what the original request was aosidhgfoaisdhfoas because i COULDNT REMEMBER!! BUT FIRST DATE HEADCANONS FOR OUR FAVORITE GROUP OF CHAOTIC BASTARDS

Hamish is the type of guy that would take you on a Nerdy Date - if you were into that sort of thing. I mean, have you seen this guy? He is most definitely going to say you are the nicest piece of art in the museum before breaking out in a grin and admitting that he should not have dropped such a cheesy compliment on you. But before any place fancy off of campus, Hamish is going to take you to the Blade and Chalice - something familiar, for a relaxing drink and a small bite to eat, a chance to make sure that you really are comfortable being alone with him while not really being alone.

It’s also the place that, you know...Randall and Lilith and Jack can also make sure that you’re Up To Snuff for their fearless leader, while he uses the opportunity to see what his closest friends think of you. He really values the opinions of his friends, especially on something that he, himself, is so nervous about - putting himself completely on the line for you.

Don’t sweat it. Lilith doesn’t spend the WHOLE time glaring at you. In fact, she tells you what Hamish’s favorite exhibit is at the museum you end up going to. For your sake.

Boy does THAT work out in your favor (i.e. he is DTF on the first date if you two hit it off THAT well. Which. Let’s be real. He asked you out. You two hit it off THAT well already).

Have you met Randall? Of course you have, you’re going on a date with him! “Going” is....overselling it, however. If you agree to a date with Randall, he’s not planning something elaborate, but something casual and relaxing. The man lives in sweatpants for fucks sake, I highly doubt that he actually owns a pair of Slacks.

So, the first date is at his place - that room/apartment that he has for being an R.A. He orders some food from a nice place, grabs a variety of drinks for you to choose from, and makes sure that the place is clean. He cleans for you. Cleans. Give him a break.

It’s a night of good food, good booze, and shitty movies, each one worse than the one before it - but that could just be from the copious amounts of alcohol that you two partake in. Whenever you leave the couch and the comfort of his warmth, he sends message after message to the Swearwolves Group Chat (you look me in the eye and tell me that’s NOT what its called) telling them how EXCITED he is, how much FUN he’s having, until his texts aren’t making any sense because he’s so smitten and so drunk that he can’t stop smiling.

There’s a kiss, or two, and some gratuitous groping, but he will WAIT until, at least, the second date to get really into it.

Maybe.

Lilith is a nervous WRECK. From asking you out to actually meeting you the day of your date, she’s much more prickly than normal. But it’s okay!! Don’t let it phase you (if it does, should you REALLY be on a date with Lilith?). She will relax the longer you two are alone together, until its Business As Usual, and she’s wondering what the hell she was nervous about.

It’s a small place off campus that she picks - mostly because she does NOT want Hamish, Randall, or Jack to show up and ruin things. She says ruin, but if it’s anything like when she asked you out, then they would probably make faces at her until she just threw the whole date in the trash. But that’s why she picks a small diner off campus! So that she can have you to herself, so she can BE herself, and not worry about anything else.

It’s a movie afterwards. And there’s very little appreciate of the movie to be had, because as soon as the lights go down, she’s distracting you with small kisses and teasing touches, and boy does she enjoy being able to see you blush in the dark.

You two wouldn’t even make it back to a bed. If everything goes according to plan, the two of you are GOING to fuck in the back seat of the car.

Jack thinks he’s smooth, but he’s really not. He practiced asking you out in the mirror, and was repeating it to himself as he was on his way to meet you, but you found him first, and overheard the whole thing and said yes. He invites you out to some event that’s happening in town - something outside, and fun, like a carnival, or a fair. He knows that its relaxing, and fun, and it’s the one place that he can really get you alone if he needs to, because of the rides.

He would also send off messages to the Swearwolves Group Chat to let them know how it goes, and immediately decides to take you somewhere else when he hears three separate phones going off around the fair grounds.

After anything he has planned for you - be in the carnival, or the fair - he takes you home for dinner and to meet his Gramps. He may get embarrassed by some stories that Gramps shares - I mean, why wouldn’t he share these stories? It’s the perfect time! - but he’s so excited for you to meet his family that he’ll get over it.

It really is a sweet first date, and he even drops you off at your door with a kiss.

Granted, that doesn’t mean that he won’t come back later to visit because he just can’t stop thinking about you.

It’s not the first date anymore, now is it?

Does Alyssa do dates? Does she really? Not if you look at her track record. But it’s okay! When she decides to ask you on a date, it’s at the same time as you, and you both end up stumbling over your proposals and laughing a little because of it.

She cooks, and invites you over for a wonderful spread of food that she put together herself, and it’s all surprisingly easy - you two talk about magic, you talk about classes, you talk about anything and everything and it isn’t until the candles that she lit are practically stumps that either of you realize the time.

She lets you stay the night, stumbles over offering to give you the bed, and both of you turn a little pink when you agree to share it with her. It’s fine! It’s okay! You’re both adults, right? So when you both climb into bed, it’s safe to say that neither of you are jumping into the other’s arms.

But as you’re falling asleep, you do feel her arms around you.

Breakfast the following morning very much is a second date, and earns a little more than just a kiss from either of you.

(there actually arent gifs that i can find of kyle....but i might not have looked in the right spots)

Kyle, Kyle, Kyle. He really is full of himself, isn’t he? He asks you out MULTIPLE times, each one more pompous, and a little egotistical than the last, and every time you turn him down, if only because he keeps looking back at his friends like “hey, check it out, I’m getting a date”. 

But, hey, when he actually gets the nerve to ask you out WITHOUT his friends hovering in the corner is when you actually agree.

And he pulls out ALL the stops: a fancy restaurant, a limo, fine wine, etc. But it isn’t the glitz and glam that get you, but the laughs. He’s surprisingly easy to talk to, and it reminds you why you were even friends with him to begin with, let alone why you studied magic with him. He was smart, and funny, and sweet when he pulled out your chair, and opened the door, and offered you his coat when you said you were cold.

Given his track record with you before your date, he doesn’t dare TRY to kiss you when he drops you off at your front door. So you kiss him. And, maybe, drag him inside.

If he brags to his friends, though, you will turn him into something small and squishable. Until you see his friends earnestly asking about the date. Then, well...maybe you’ll forgive him later.

(i couldn’t even find a gif under Ajay Friese!! Someone!! Please!!)

Amir just goes for it. He really is a “grab life by the horns” kind of guy, and when he realizes that there’s even a SPARK of interest between the two of you, he just asks you out - no planning, no real idea of what to do, just blurts it out while you’re laughing about one of his jokes.

He really is a broke college student, though, and he does his best to plan something that will really catch your eye - he does his best to convince the owner of the Blade and Chalice to give you two the whole bar for a the night, or at least an hour, or at least after close? And the guy agrees - if only because Amir says that he’ll clean the bar for a week for free in exchange for it. Afterwards, when you hear the owner flag down Amir and tell him that his debt is paid, whatever that means, the two of you head off to town for a late night movie of your choice.

Or, you would, if it hadn’t started to rain.

But it’s okay! Because Amir is a quick thinker, and remembers that Netflix is a thing. So you two head back to his room, where his roommate is gone (Thank God) and stream whatever movies you can think of until it’s even later and the two of you fall asleep propped against the wall.

He does buy you breakfast, and offers to grab your homework from classes when you tell him that you’re going to skip them for the day, and earns the largest, loudest kiss that you can muster with little sleep and a sore back.

He does do a dance. You do see him do a dance before he leaves. It’s cute.