#much yelling and rejoicing today taking it all in

[thresholdbb]

Voyager season 2 is GOOD

[cryptonite-exe]

i see you’re taking request!! would you be willing to write some more dating rev head cannons? maybe how he’d treat you during downtime with everyone else? :) so far i’ve fallen in love with your crypto content!

dating the devil | revenant headcanons

𓆩♡𓆪 pairing ; revenant x gn!reader

𓆩♡𓆪 a/n ; AAAA MY FIRST REQUESTTT thank you so much you kind soul!! really hope you enjoy this! (apologies it took long) <3

the mellow afternoon sun slowly descends, the light of day fading. the hazy atmosphere and silence of the dropship’s clinic was comforting. you sigh deeply and shut your eyes. you relish in the peace of this unoccupied area of the ship, the vibrations of the moving ship was soothing to you. you were hooked on an iv bag to get the fluids you needed to make a full recovery. with an arm taped with wires and strict orders to rest there, you recall the events of the past day as sleep dawned onto you. the match today did more damage than good. your entire shield batteries and med kits being completely shredded by the damn charged rifle ash kept poking you with. the bandages on your waist fit you tight, the inflammation on your skin was no joke. perhaps having personal relations to the other simulacrum has its cons.

the recent schedule of back to back matches took a toll on you- no, rather all of you. octane, who lives for the adrenaline of battle, even expressed how he needed a breather after the recent games. quoting “more stim’s been going than coming, my stunts won’t be as cool without my stim!”. after the complaints, the syndicate announced a week long break with olympus being the stopping place. the legends rejoiced and gushed about their plans for the week filled with partying and clubs, and some choosing to remain in the comfort of their closed quarters.

the next thing you knew, you were coming to your senses. your attempt at going back to sleep was futile, the pillow your head was laying on was so uncomfortable you were convinced it was a brick. no amount of shifting and turning can soften that so called pillow. the white lights of the dropship nearly blinded you when you attempted to open your eyes. you groan and rub your eyes. now pissed and awake, you tried sitting up because you don’t remember the clinic’s pillows were this hard. you immediately stopped midway as a sudden shock of pain presented itself. the pain had you yelling before you can even register where it was. “easy there human” a familiar voice greets you. your hand lays on your abdomen but your eyes pan to him. “what the hell are you doing he- wait, where even am i?” you ask when you saw the unfamiliar room. it was the standard room the syndicate assigned to everyone but there was nothing.

“my room. how idiotic of you to simply sleep there. have you no regard for your safety?” he spoke, standing up. “you were looking for me?” you asked with a laugh, tilting your head to the side. “don’t get all cocky with me, human” he defensively replies. despite his relentless remarks, he places a hand on your back and offering the other to you. you accepted it immediately, he helps you stand up and walk. he doesn’t let go, perhaps waiting for you to tell him off. but you just lean in further into his gentle embrace, one that showed he was scared of harming you. “oh my knight in shining armor.” you gush, half jokingly. he only groans in response.

‘this will be a fun week’

he's a literal 6'8 (semi) gentle giant

there are the usual homicidal remarks here and there but never towards you

he'd be bored AS SHIT during the break

he complains that "skinsuits are to be killed"

he ends up following you everywhere like a curious cat, always looming over your shoulder to watch whatever you're doing

he doesn't care about pda at all, he let's you do what makes you happy. but when someone points it out he hisses like a cat in water

when the other legends saw him walk behind you everywhere, someone was bound to make fun of him for it

it just happened to be mirage

"who would've guessed murder bot is a murder PET now hah! hahah..." he laughs, fading at the end when revenant snaps his head in mirage's direction

various curses and profanities were thrown that you had to slap him on the arm for it

"hey- no that was too mean!" you express, crossing your arms

"whatever he deserved it" he murmurs, then stomps away like a literal kid

(is back to your side in 5 minutes)

not the best person to gossip to but he does keep an open ear and sometimes asks for details

he'll groan whenever you're rambling for a long time, but he actually feels bad when you shut up

his form of an apology is sticking by your side until you start talking again

he absolutely cannot be left to do a task unless you want claw marks left everywhere

folding clothes? ripped. wiping down tables? scratches. he wants to hand comb your hair? no you're going bald.

he doesn't understand your liking for kissing him but doesn't oppose it

rev : what are you doing?

: kissing you

rev : disgusting. do it again.

doesn't do pet names. you are clinically insane if you hope he calls you one

the most he'll do is "human" or "sweetheart" and not with romantic intent

is scared to even lay a finger on you, what if those hands do to you what they were designed to do?

you have to initiate any intimacy, placing his hands on your waist reminding him it's okay or resting your head on his shoulder to calm him down

treats you like absolute glass- like you would break at a single push

possessive to the power of 10, and it cannot be overstated

no other legend would dare to even flirt with you, an invisible mark that indicates his property is on you

"mine" he mumbles, pulling your waist closer to him as his other hand grips his scythe- bloody from an entire squad's futile attempt to ambush you alone

some would question your taste in significant others but if they asked, you'd answer

"if only you knew"

if only they knew the quiet moments you had just observing each other, curiosity indulging itself

if only they knew the stories he shared from his memories, how his early days as a human haunted him to a point of endless jealousy and anger

if only they knew how tired he was of waking up from every death he hoped was the final one, how you were the only thing he looked forward to seeing

if only they knew how you were the only person he trusted enough to shut down and sleep

if only they knew how you wake up at 3am to see glowing dots on your ceiling, no hesitation to pat the bed as an invite and just go back to sleep

if only they knew how he nudges his head against yours as a kiss, how he caresses your hands feeling the warmth of being human

if only they knew your selfish thoughts of wanting to be one of his kind to accompany him in his lonely nightmare forever

© this work is by cryptonite-exe, please do not copy and post on any other platform.

[eternadreeblissa]

Prologue: End’s Beginning

Today was the day Ava Rosamaryllis will die.

The moment she had been found guilty by the court, not a mere second was wasted, as a public announcement was held within the heart of the kingdom to declare the day of her execution. She remembers the crowd’s voices- although hushed and quiet- were loud and clear as they seeped into her ears while the news spread like wildfire throughout the kingdom. And from there, everything she had worked hard for, everything that she had once believed in, had been reduced to mere ashes.

She does not understand where she went wrong–  or how for that matter. Not even a recall of what mistake she had made to find herself in her own grave. But alas: she’s now at the very bottom of the pit she supposedly dug up, and she cannot find any hope of escape nor recovery. 

Which is why in her last moments, she finds herself being held by her arms and her knees pinned to the floor. The sound of the long blade unsheathing from its holster, before there was a swift strike to roughly cut off her long, precious hair, and she cried. The cut erupting simultaneous snaps coursing through her veins and her body weakened in reaction. Her legs gave way, her energy leaving her as the dress that hugged her soon grew too loosened and large on her now little frame. She did not have time to grieve, the people would not allow her to, as they were all too eager for her downfall whilst the guards brought her up to her feet, yanking her harshly up akin to a ragdoll, and marched on with little to no care whether she tripped or struggled to match their pace. Blinding light greeted her now hollow, darkened eyes, and upon meeting the gloom filled sky, a quivering breath escaped her lips for a mere moment:

Must life be so cruel upon her? If there was any mistake she had made in her life, she could only beg to her goddess above what it was.

But even she, remained silent to her cries, as there was no reply. Even when her hands were tied behind her back, and tired onyx eyes were covered in thick cloth. Her tears merely dampened it if only a little, while her body could only shake in fright from the sounds of eager, hollering cheers for her soon to be coming death.

“Take down that traitor!” They cried. “She lied to us!” They yelled.

But there was only so much she could take.

Yet in spite of all this incomprehensible noise and cruel punishment, perhaps she shall momentarily rejoice –she smiled bitterly– as in mere moments, the noise will all quiet down, she will no longer feel the aches of her weakened, fragile body, and she will no longer see faces that will always sneer and mock her for every move she makes: whether her actions be deemed good or evil. All of it will be over soon, and perhaps, with her death, the people shall also have peace moving onwards as well.

She may not recall or remember what terrible thing she had done to warrant such hostility, but if it’s for the sake of those she loved, for the home she hailed from, surely this could be for the better, right?

“The world would be better off without that witch.”

The thought saddens her. 

With a slice of the thick ropes that held together the blade of her end, the air howled as gravity brought forth her impending doom, and then all had faded, to darkness…

__________________

@gliphyartfan

[afpwestcoast]

Colony, Woodstock, NY, 11/12/22

We entered the venue and found a “television” on the stage tuned to AshyTV (aka Amanda’s 7yo son Ash in a couple of cardboard boxes). Amanda had poked her head out just before doors opened to warn us that this was happening. My friends Fuzzy and Mo were the first in the door and did most of the interacting with him.

There were several programs available on AshyTV, each with its own script. At one point Ash looked at his script and said, “I’m not doing this one. It’s too embarrassing.” He briefly showed us the script which was basically a piece of paper completely filled with “poop poop poop poop poop …” written in childish scrawl. When we selected the Weather Channel he said, “Today it will be sunny … or cloudy.” After a pregnant pause he admitted, “I don’t really know.” To which we replied, “Oh! So you ARE a real weatherman!”

At one point there was some discussion about whether some money should be inserted into the slot in the “television,” you know, to keep AshyTV up and running. At first Ash was very hesitant to ask for money (taking after his Uncle Jason, no doubt), but after some gentle coaxing from Fuzzy he warmed to the idea.

“So you would like some money?” Fuzzy asked.

“Yes.”

At this Fuzzy instantly turned around and yelled, “Tom!” Because I am a wallet with legs. Apparently. I gave him a dollar.

After leaving the stage Ash dispatched his minion (aka Krys Fox) to deliver a signed, handwritten note to Fuzzy. All of this reportedly caused him to strut around declaring that since he had A) been on TV, B) gotten paid, and C) handed out an autograph he was now officially rich and famous. Definitely a tough act to follow.

On closing night it is almost impossible not to sit and reflect on the entire stint of shows, so here is my high-level analysis.

Thursday night was by far the most polished of the three. The band was fresh, energetic, and well-rehearsed. They torched through their set with nary a hiccup and clearly enjoyed themselves. This is all well and good for Professional Musicians, but (let’s be honest) is not necessarily what we’ve come to expect from The Dresden Dolls.

Friday night they were more tired, but powered through. But you could tell that the edges were starting to fray a bit and they were losing a bit of the virtuosic control they exhibited on Thursday. This all came to a head with the collapse and epic recovery during Sing (which was well-timed, by the way, considering that this was the last song of the night). I think when they lost control they found themselves. Forced to improvise on the spot and create magic out of mayhem, they remembered Oh yeah! This is what we do! This is who we are!

And then came Saturday.

On Saturday the band was exhausted and all out of fucks. But they were also emboldened and fearless. Let chaos reign and we will make it our bitch. THIS was the Dresden Dolls of old. THIS was pandemonium turned into art. THIS was the only place in the universe that I wanted to be.

Overall I would say that Saturday night was the best night by far. However, the best moment of all 3 shows was the acoustic Sing at the end of Friday night.

Some Highlights:

Svitlana Zavialova (aka Wu Woman) performed another mesmerizing dance of martial movements and created another spontaneous painting. What a joy to watch!

Just before Mandy Goes to Med School, Manta conveyed to Amanda the breaking news that the Nevada Senate race had been called, securing control of the Senate for the Democrats. There was much rejoicing (and oh so relevant to the topic of the song).

You would have thought that Brian had learned his lesson after breaking a lightbulb last night. Tonight he broke two. A shard from the first one hit me on the cheek less than a centimeter below my eye. It’s all fun and games until somebody loses an eye.

After the show last night we were talking to Manta and he told us that they were going to make a video of him playing on Fight for Your Right tonight to show to his son. So when he hit the stage tonight we started chanting MANTA! MANTA! MANTA! so his son would know he’s a rock star. For the first half of the set I was standing right next to rock photographer extraordinaire Krys Fox, which meant I had to temper my traditional drunken flailing somewhat so as not to interfere with his sight lines. But in the second half - after appearing on stage for Delilah - the lovely and talented Veronica Swift appeared beside me. We bonded instantly and spent the rest of the show bopping and dancing and singing along at the top of our lungs. So. Much. Joy.

The Aftermath:

Sunday morning I was sitting, collecting my thoughts and assessing my state. I decided that these shows were the psychic equivalent of a Rolfing massage. I felt completely worked over, but also fully at peace and oddly content. I realized that there had been a huge Dresden-Dolls-shaped hole in my soul for the past five years.

But that will apparently not be a problem anymore! At the Patreon brunch Amanda announced that soon (6mos to a year) The Dresden Dolls would be her full-time job(!). This will entail some changes to the Patreon. She said The Dresden Dolls are the visible mushroom above a huge subterranean mycelium support network of staff and crew and venues and fans that is invisible to the casual observer but critical to the band being able to do what it does. The Patreon will be woven into this network to help ensure that the band can focus more on art and less on business. The full contours of this change have yet to be defined but I have full faith that it will be amazing!

Annotated Set List:

Good Day (Brian on guitar then drums)

Sex Changes

Gravity

Bad Habit

Backstabber The first pause in the set came earlier tonight than in previous nights driven by the fact that Brian didn’t have the set list. 

Modern Moonlight There was some initial confusion over whether to solicit audience participation and what key they were in. Amanda decided to punt the plan and press on regardless, but the audience joined in nonetheless.

My Alcoholic Friends toward the end of the song Amanda sloppily took a shot of something (provided by Manta) but ended up spitting most of it out over the crowd. As you do.

Missed Me This was the most fun I’ve seen them have with this song. It all started innocently enough with Amanda screwing up the lyrics right off the bat (as is tradition). About halfway through I started to notice a lot of small shards of wood bouncing around on Brian’s drums when all of a sudden he put his drumsticks down, picked up the bass, and started playing it, leaving Amanda befuddled. Then he curled up in a ball on the stage behind the drum set prompting Amanda to announce “Brian has left the band!” Eventually he bounced up and retook his seat, so Amanda yelled, “Brian has returned!” But after a few furtive drumbeats he stood up and walked off the stage, so Amanda repeated “Brian has left the band!” She clearly had no idea what he was doing but was willing to let things play out to see where it went. When they had finally reset and seemed ready to continue Amanda had forgotten where she was in the song. She started rapidly muttering the lyrics under her breath and when she got to “If you miss me, mister, why do you keep leaving?” she yelled out, “OH I GET IT: HE KEEPS LEAVING!!” They did finish the song. Eventually. 

Mrs. O

Astronaut

Delilah (featuring Veronica Swift) Brian gave Veronica a bit more detailed introduction tonight. She comes from a family of jazz / bebop artists and has been a Dresden Dolls fan since she was 12. She put out an amazing album called This Bitter Earth that features a cover of Sing, which is how Brian became aware of her. 

The Gardener (Brian on bass and drums)

Whakenewha (pronounced Fuckin-A-Fa) Amanda said that she had written 2 albums of Dresden Dolls songs while in New Zealand, but while she might use a couple of them most of them were going in the trash because she’s not the same person anymore.

Ultima Esperanza

(You Gotta) Fight for Your Right (to Party!) (Beastie Boys cover) Manta on base, Amanda on drums, Brian on electric guitar. 

Amsterdam (Jacques Brel cover) Amanda singing from the balcony, Brian on guitar from the stage. 

Mandy Goes to Med School Amanda called this the jazziest song about abortion and proclaimed that America needs more jazz songs about abortion! Somehow an unexpected cover of Careless Whisper by George Michael spontaneously emerged towards the end of the song, but honestly there’s a nonzero chance of that happening any time Amanda sings. 

Coin-Operated Boy THIS IS NOT A SONG ABOUT A VIBRATOR.

War Pigs (Black Sabbath cover)

Half Jack Both of their dads were in the audience tonight and this was not the first time that had happened. The first time, many years ago, Brian’s dad was enthusiastically requesting Half Jack but was told that Amanda couldn’t play it in front of her dad. Now she can. There is no wound that cannot be healed.

Girl Anachronism Amanda asked, “Who here did not have a complicated childhood?” When I raised my hand Amanda yelled at me, “FUCK YOU TOM YOU HAD A COMPLICATED CHILDHOOD!” I replied, “No, but I’ve had a complicated adulthood!” To which Amanda sniffed, “We’ll talk about it later.”

——

Truce Brian introduced a young drumming protégé of his named Dylan, who was in the audience, and then ceremoniously presented him with a fractured mallet attached to a drumstick with gaffer’s tape. Brian had shattered the mallet at a show at the Paradise in Boston in 2017 and had to MacGuyver a solution to finish the show.

Sing A motley collection of crew, friends, dads, and colleagues filed onto stage behind the band to join in on this one, as befits closing night.

Photo Gallery:

AshyTV is on the air! (2nd & 3rd photos by Moran Kerpick-Isaacs)

There is a villain on the loose. He sent this message. -Ash

Official set list

Good Day. Pretty much the only song they play fully dressed.

Whatever else you want to say about The Dresden Dolls, they certainly have expressive faces!

Amanda: I am displeased.

Brian: Whattaya want from me??

If anything Veronica Swift was even better on Delilah tonight.

Amanda looking like a punk cabaret Statue of Liberty.

The Gardener’s coming to collect.

MANTA! MANTA! MANTA! MANTA!

Fight for your right!

Amsterdam!

Always in contact, constant communication, each feeding off the other.

All and sundry (both dads!) on stage for Sing; an epic finish to an epic show.

The author in his natural habitat. (Photo by Hayley Rosenblum.)

My partner in crime, Veronica Swift. (Photo by Krys Fox.)

Family portrait! (Photo by Krys Fox.)

Amanda sings In My Mind at Sunday brunch.

[dreamsfreckles]

[6:57p.m.] Whatever Idiot

~

Dream x reader

Fluff

Wholesome bf content 😌 - enjoy!

~

You furrowed your brows in thought.

As much as you loved watching him game with his friends, you got bored sometimes. It’s not like he left you out or ignored you, but today you were craving a little extra love from your 6’3 boyfriend. “Dream,”as his buddies called him, was playing minecraft yet again, just messing around in the SMP. You came to his house an hour or two ago and talked for a bit before he hopped online with the boys. You didn’t mind, of course. Sometimes you’d play with him, while other times you’d just watch; either way it was equally as entertaining. However, today felt super long, even kind of rough. All you wanted to do once the day ended was to fall into your wonderful boyfriend’s arms... But that was kind of hard to do when he was sitting in front of his desk, clicking away on his keyboard and mouse.

You debated your options.

You could bother him to attract his attention, or you could patiently wait for him like the good girlfriend you are...

After much reluctance, you simply decided to just lay on his bed and scroll through tiktok for the time being.

As you aimlessly pass by hundreds of videos... One of them catches your attention.

There’s a video of a girl setting up her phone on a surface to point at a boy who looks to be gaming on a computer.

That looks familiar to your situation...

She then proceeds to walk over to him, sit down facing him in his lap, and then hug him closely whilst he continues playing on the device.

Your heart flutters watching the video.

That was so cute... What would Clay do if you did that to him..?

Glancing up to him from your spot on his bed, you analyze his set up. Is there room for you to fit in his lap? Is there anything that you could potentially knock over? You sit up more to get a better look. He has space in between himself and the desk that looks to be enough space to crawl into... He also looks calm, so you shouldn’t be interupting anything special...

Deciding that this was your chance, you softly stood from your spot on the bed and padded over to the side of him.

“No, Sapnap, you can’t build that here, it’s-“ Clay spoke into his mic, probably ordering Sapnap around.

With a flushed face, you move to stand more in front of him, causing him to look from his monitor, up to you.

“Babe-“

You wordlessly swing your right leg over his thighs and gently sit yourself down in his lap, facing him, and then wrapping your arms around him. Clay froze, his face heating up as he processed what you just did. You relax into his embrace and nuzzle into the side of his neck.

Finally content with your guys’s proximity, you sigh out the four words you have yet to say to him that night.

“I love you, Clay.”

With his game already paused and mic muted, Clay wraps his arms around you and rests his head on yours. He was smiling, his heart filled with warmth. He didnt realize how much he missed being this close to you.

“I love you too.”

After hugging in silence for a few minutes, Clay’s curiosity got the best of him. “Baby?”

“Hmm?” You breathe out.

“Whatcha doin’?” He asks softly.

“Huggin’ you.”

Clay chuckles, closing his eyes once again, and rubbing his hands up and down your back.

“You are being very cute right now.” He confesses, with a light smirk.

Your lips lift into a smile. “I know.”

Clay lets out a soft wheeze, running his fingers through your hair. “Was I ignoring you too much for your liking? You feeling clingy?” He asked jokingly.

You squeeze him a little tighter. “Lil’ bit.”

Clay chcukles, yet again, and crushes you harder into the hug, causing you to let out a strained squeak. “ClAy! tOo mUcH!” You mangage to yell out, successfully making Clay bubble into a fit of wheezes and giggles. Finally feeling merciful, he lets go of you and allows you to sit up and look down at him. Clay gazes at you with stars in his eyes. Every time he looks at you, a wave of excitment hits him. Being with you was always fun; even if you both were sitting in silence, scrolling through Instagram, or watching youtube together.

Clay’s mind started to wander to how you both got into this situation in the first place. You must’ve gotten a little bored while he was playing. You were usually quite content when he played. Maybe you weren’t. Were you always bored when he played? Were you getting sick of his gaming habits? Worry flashed over Clay for a moment. No... You would say something if you got bored... right? Clay didn’t think it was that deep. If there was a real problem, you probably wouldn’t be in his lap...

Right..?

“Clay?” You broke him from his trance. “Oh.” He blinked. “yeah?” You giggled at his dopey face. “You looked a little concerned for a second.” You admitted, bringing your hand up to his face to pinch his cheekbone. Suddenly, a thought washes over you. “Wait.” You panic. “Is there something on my face?” Clay almost laughed. Almost. He felt a wave mischief wash over him. “Yes, actually.” He smirks. “There’s a very tiny spider on your forehead.” Your eyes widen for a moment and it looks like you’re about to spaz out; but before you do, you realize the look on his face is most definitely cap. You immediately glare at him and smack his shoulder. “I hate you.” You scoffed, getting up from his lap. Clay giggles and tries to tug you back. “Wait, I was kidding!” He draws out, whining at your departure from his lap. You hop back into your original spot and scoff. “Yeah, whatever, go back to blowing George or something.” Clay’s jaw drops at your words. “WhaT DID YOU JUST SAY?” He starts to get up from the chair. You look up from your phone, knowing what’s about to happen. “Nope. Nope. Go back to your desk, I’m not starting this with you again.” You deny, shaking your head and directing him to sit back down. Clay stares at you in disbelief. “Wh-“ he looks back to his computer and then back to you. “What do you mean ‘starting this again’-“ he mocks in your voice. You burst out laughing, denying him from coming any closer. “I meAN-“ you say exhasporatedly. “We both know what the fuck you’re about to do and I CAN’T-“ before you could finish your sentence, you were already being thrown over his shoulder. “CLAY!” You screech. “I’M SERIOUS CLAY, I CAN’T-“ Clay shakes his head, already done with you. “Nope you got on my nerves, this is your punishment.” Clay walks out of his room, through the kitchen, and out the patio door, heading straight for his pool. “CLAY I SWEAR TO GOD IF YOU-“ and with one final curse from you, Clay flings himself, with you over his shoulder, into his backyard pool.

Clay is already laughing as you rise to the surface of the water, a glare on your face. Clay is wheezing with laughter. You almost felt concerned that he wasn’t breathing. Almost. As his wheezing turns to laughing and laughing turns to giggling, he finally was to the point where he could function. You raise your eyebrows. “Done?” You ask. Clay lets out one last chcukle, walking towards your body half submerged in the water. “Not quite.” He states suggestively, walking up to you until you’re an inch apart in the middle of the pool.

Now, there’s no way you’re letting him back you up against the pool wall like some PUSSY. So you stood your ground in your sopping wet sweatshirt. If anything, YOU were the one who was going to be backing HIM up against some wall.

Clay stares at you expectingly, water driping from his wet hair. You stare right back at him, no sign of emotion. He looks back and fourth between both of your eyes, trying to make you break. However, your stare is much stronger and is quickly causing Clay to panic. You stare harder. ‘Break, break’ you chant in your head. Clays eyes squint. You follow suit.

Clay blinks.

“FUCK”

“HAHAHA IDIOT I WIN!” You rejoice.

Clay sighs, running his hands over his face. “Whatever.” He deadpans. “Lets just get out of here.” He mopes, walking to the stairs of the pool.

You giggle. “Someone’s a sore loser...” you poke, causing Clay to look back at you with a fierce look in his eyes. You laugh and swim up to him, latching yourself onto his wet t-shirt-clad back. “Stop giving me that look, you puppy. I know who you truly are.” You smile up at him innocently. Clay rolls his eyes and smiles.

“Whatever, idiot.”

Lol, hope you liked it! This was my first try writing with the dream team and I plan to write more! Let me know if you have any feedback! Also, I can take requests if anyone is interested :3 thx!

[pastxlscorp]

Bully! Mitsuya Fanfic (pt.1)

Chapter I: Inception

✿ Word Count: 2.1k

✿ Pairing: Takashi Mitsuya x reader

✿ Topics covered: (Eventual) Enemies to lovers trope, Y/N POV, tsundere-Mitsuya, bully! Mitsuya, fem. reader, minor manga spoilers, Bully! Mitsuya headcanons from last post

He lifted his large palm, coated in silver and black rings to match his attire. He was wearing a black mock turtleneck that matched his jet black hair. In his youth, he had lilac-colored hair that was either in a buzz-cut or grown out to a mullet. Now, he sported his black hair in his college-years. He was studying to become a fashion designer, a dream he had since his youth after his love blossomed for sewing. It had begun as a chore in order to keep his sisters satisfied and happy, saving money from buying toys by simply creating them himself. As he practiced it more and more, he began to realize how intricate fabrics were. How beautiful colors could come together and form the prettiest structures and designs -- how even the ugliest colors would look elegant if you paired them properly with the right colors, or carefully took apart the threads to create something new. You on the other hand were not studying to become a fashion designer, but rather a photographer. In your youth, you were a free-lancer in art and a quiet overachiever. You had many different career options open to you, but nothing really opened you up in the way art did. You participated in many different types of art, you loved painting, sewing, embroidery, name it, you’ve probably dabbled in it. One day, your class was introduced to your photography unit and all the puzzle pieces fell into the designated places, the pieces being lost and untouched for years. Nothing brought you more joy than snapping someone’s photo on the street to surprise them with the way the sunlight beautifully encapsulated their figure. Nothing brought you more joy than taking an eerily aesthetic photo of the rain pouring on the people below your building as a lady frolocked in the rain below, eager to rejoice in mother nature’s beauty.

Truthfully, your relationship had not started out the way it was now. With his palm ever so elegantly shoving you to the floor, your photographs spilling out of your portfolio as you hit the cold tile floor, protecting your chest by landing on your elbow and knee. Snickers, chuckles, giggles-- they all filled the hallway after seeing you collapse. Only a select few actually took pity on you, including one of his loyal followers, Hakkai Shiba. Mitsuya was usually followed around by two close-friends, Yasuda-san and Hakkai. Yasuda-san was also a fashion major, while Hakkai was planning to become a model. Mitsuya was very well respected amongst the campus for many different reasons. Firstly, he was gifted with the intellect of sewing intrigue designs that made everyone sigh in awe. Secondly, pretty-privilege. You hated to admit it but Mitsuya was a very attractive-looking man, his hair was always fluffed to the right extent, he was well-dressed, and leading into the third reason, he was smart. Despite being a part of the Tokyo Manji Gang, otherwise known as Toman, as one of the second division captains, he was able to manage schoolwork as an overachiever and was known for his intellect. Not to mention, keeping his division in check along with his two younger sisters AND the sewing club that he managed at his school? It was no wonder he was seen as the perfect boyfriend, he had all of his together. This was the reason why his disregard of you was seen as acceptable, everyone assumed you must have done something wrong for him to treat you this way, right?

Incorrect assumption. You have never done anything wrong to Mitsuya-- in fact… you don’t really remember doing anything to him, period. You both met by chance in his home-economics club, which he decided to suggest to the college board upon seeing there was not a club that actively encouraged sewing. At the time, most participants on campus were graphic designers, artists, not really looking to take the fashion industry by storm as Mitsuya was. However, he was able to persuade the board and even got petition signatures to seal it all off. He was the president of the club and upon seeing the posters taped in the hallways, you instantly took the opportunity to get any extracurricular activities on your transcript. He welcomed you into the club but it wasn’t like you got that much of his attention-- after all, the club filled up quickly with Mitsuya’s admirers. Although, shortly before he began his cruel treatment and behavior towards you, it actually seemed like you two were becoming friends. He would begin to check on you a little more frequently than the rest, tapping your shoulder with a warm smile, asking you how your project was going. You would show him your small projects, nothing too big as it had nothing to do with your major, but projects that you enjoyed and had fun doing nonetheless. He seemed most amused by the sweater you created for your dog by letting out a soft chuckle. In return, he showed you the sweaters he made for his sisters, who were now teenagers. It became a routine for him to walk over to you after checking up on everyone else and talk until club hours were over. He’d find anything to talk about and it made your heart swell with how he actually took the time out of his day to make sure you didn’t feel alone. You were sure he had picked up on how you lacked friends in his club, he was clearly trying to make you feel welcome and you couldn’t help but begin to admire him even more than you once had.

One day, however, it suddenly changed. His demeanor was suddenly cold and unwelcoming to you. You noticed when you walked into his club as you normally did, taking your seat. He did not visit you within the 10 minutes it usually took him to check upon everyone else. It took much, much longer, so you simply assumed everyone needed more help than usual. However, when he came over to your table, his words startled you so much that you pricked yourself with your needle, rushing your eyes to meet his own at his sudden harshness.

┃ “Looks like someone isn’t paying attention.”

The venom in his words made your cheeks flush with a tint of red, noticing some of the club members staring at you, also in surprise of his harsh tone. You open your mouth, quickly questioning his behavior, all of your words coming out panicked, in fear you’ve done something wrong-- something to disappoint, or upset him.

┃ “What do you mean, Pres? My projects have never been an issue before.”

┃ “Nicknames are a privilege. Call me by my proper title.” He snapped, your peers widening their eyes, for he never required anyone to call him by his last name.

┃ “...President Mitsuya, I apologize. However, you can’t just--”

┃ “Look around,” he motions his arm towards the surrounding students working at their tables, sewing much larger projects and others measuring their models for their designs. Your right eyebrow began to raise in confusion, he had never minded your small projects. Yet, here he was, embarrassing, no-- humiliating you in front of your peers about how minuscule your projects were in comparison.

┃ “Your peers all have their mind set on a big project or several larger projects. Yet, here you are with your small little trinkets. They’re working hard, and you’re doing the bare minimum to have your work completed for this club.”

Tears began to prick your eyes, questioning what his true motive was here. Surely, the projects weren’t the issue. This… this was too strong of a switch-up. Something had triggered this outburst of his, but you weren’t sure what. He was always stressed, all the time actually-- had he perhaps overwhelmed himself and he was taking it out on you?

┃ “(Y/N).” Your name so violently came out of his mouth, as if it had just crashed on cement. It wasn’t the silky and softer voice you were accustomed to hearing when speaking with him. “Get your head out of the clouds. Are you listening?”

┃ “Sir… I mean, President Mitsuya, with all due respect, you seem to be… unfairly targeting me. Some of these students are creating something as simple as a sweater for their friends, why is something for my dog any different?”

The rest of the club began planning your funeral. While never seeing him this upset on school grounds, they have heard about how foul he could get with his division members. Questioning him was bound to make him explode. They all froze, eyes drifting to Mitsuya for an incoming scolding.

┃ With a harsh grab, his fingers glide under your chin as he lifts it up to meet his face directly. “'You questioning me?”

┃ “N-no sir! I mean no disrespect, I just-”

┃ “You’ll be staying after club hours.”

┃ “B-but sir I have-”

┃ “I was NOT asking.” He half-shouts, dropping your chin from his harsh grip as he makes it back to the front of the classroom where he continues to work on his own projects. Your fellow club members pitied you at first, but after seeing how harsh he got later on with you as the bullying continued, they assumed this was the result of an external conflict.

You don’t remember what he told you after club hours. He was yelling something about how you were stupid, a dumbass, and well, you get the rest. Cruel words were thrown at you as if the day before he wasn’t so fondly helping you with the sweater for your dog-- helping you perfect the stitch of his name. Any time you questioned him or flat-out denied his accusations and heinous words, he would yank your chain and pull you so you were right in front of him as he stared down at you. It was enough to scare you out of ever providing a rebuttal, and you soon learned that as the bullying continued.

Now, here you are, on the floor, calmly collecting your portfolio photographs, not even phased by his now-normal harassment. Usually, a shove would be enough to appease him, but today it seemed like one of those days where he wanted more. He walked over to your kneeling figure as you collected your portfolio, your head turned away from him to avoid giving him any form of satisfaction.

┃ “What do you say after you bump into someone?”

┃ “I didn’t bump into you, dickhead.”

With a swift motion, he forcefully grabbed your chin and forced you to look at him, his lavender eyes piercing straight through you. He was clearly unsatisfied with your response.

┃ “What do you say after you bump into someone, skank?”

Every time you questioned him or talked back, you knew it simply made him angrier. You quickly learned that him acting out was his way of earning your attention, but for whatever reason it was, you couldn’t figure out why. What you did learn, however, from your many other incidents with him, is that he would praise you when you were obedient. Eager to get this over with and save yourself any more humiliation, you replied:

┃ “I’m sorry.”

┃ “I’m sorry…?”

┃ With a sigh, you continue, “I’m sorry, President Mitsuya.”

He smirks, now satisfied with your answer. He taps your cheek with his right index finger and replies:

┃ “Good girl.”

You swipe your face away from his grasp and continue collecting your photographs, along with your notebooks and planner that had slipped out. Mitsuya scoffs as you once more retract your attention away from him and walks away with Yasuda-sun snickering. Hakkai, however, stays behind and examines you for a few brief moments. He walks over to you and begins helping you organize your bookbag. You look up and smile-- despite his silence, his eyes offered every form of apology he could give you. You had learned Hakkai was afraid to speak up to Mitsuya because he was his best friend and was afraid any talkback from him would only result in a deeper hatred for you. You didn’t mind, however, you just appreciated how Hakkai kept you grounded. He helped you remember you didn’t do anything wrong, this was Mitsuya’s doing and his alone. Hakkai was always well-dressed as well, you noticed. He was wearing an incredibly long trench coat with beautiful shades of baby blue, ocean blues and a bright orange that made everything pop. It covered a black mock turtleneck that seemed to be matching the one Mitsuya was wearing and in fact, Hakkai also seemed to have an earring on one ear, similar to Mitsuya. It appeared that he deeply respected Mitsuya, his outfit seemed to be heavily inspired by his own. With everything settled in your bookbag once more, he offered you a pat on the head with a smile as you nodded and thanked him before running off to your first class of the day.

✿ a.n. // I finished this chapter while finishing my AP Psychology hw. I had started writing it and then idk why but I was re-reading the manga and went “wait, now what if we have Hakkai and Yasuda-san…” and ta-da, take my 2.1k words of pure a$$. If this chapter does well, I’ll be sure to upload it on my ao3, too. special tags for @the2ndl and @bren-heron because they both really wanted a fic out of this concept. I hope you enjoy loves <3

[animationmovieshipps]

Always and Forever

Chapter 12:

"You know, I think I overreacted a little in the room." You murmured, already feeling completely better being snuggled comfortably against her body, as if she were a soft bed, while one of her arms hugged you and her other hand ran through your hair.

"Overreacted? Why?" Your girlfriend asked, before giving you a kiss on the top of your head and resting her chin on it.

"I had said that she had ruined my day, which is not at all true. I had such an amazing day and such a joyful start to the night. Saying that, it made me feel like your efforts to make me happy were of no use." You confessed.

"Oh mi amor, don't feel that way." She said as she hugged you even tighter, her voice so sweet you felt like if you ran your finger along the inside of her mouth, it would be smeared with honey. "You were very upset about what happened, I don't blame you, I would have the same reaction as yours. I will be really sad if you let it spoil the rest of your night, today is such an important date in your life, cherish it."

Even after so much time of friendship, love and complicity, you were still surprised at how Luisa always knew what to say. You broke away from the embrace, to look at your loved one and rejoice in how lucky you were to love her with all your heart.

"I adore you so much, princesa." You whispered, bringing your hand up to her cheek and caressed it affectionately, smiling as she returned the gaze.

"Mi corazón..." She whispered back, before leaning in and pressing her lips against yours.

You ardently kissed her back, your hand wrapped around her neck and trying to pull her even closer.

Now without all that insecurity floating around in your mind whenever you two made out, you've realized how silly you've been. How were you so apprehensive about something that made you feel so happy?

Meanwhile, outside the house, your parents were arguing with each other.

"Seriously, why did you had to ruin our daughter's special day?" Your father asked, completely indignant and angry at the memory of you crying when in that very moment you were feeling great happiness.

"Manuel, what did you want me to do when I saw her exposing herself to shame in front of all those people?" She argued.

"She wasn't exposing herself in any way, they're not like you. I was hoping you'd come because you wanted to be a better mother to her!"

"I'll never be a better mother than I am now, I worry about her, which you don't!"

"Why the hell don't get into your thick head that our daughter is fine and you DON'T have to worry about her?" He yelled loudly. He had never yelled at his wife before, but at that moment he couldn't take it anymore.

Consuelo remained silent, knowing that nothing would be resolved if she answered him, the discussion would just continue.

"Alright, let's go home and talk better there..."

"No, you go home, I'll go check on my daughter." He replied, for the first time not kissing her goodbye.

She was shocked by the cold way Manuel treated her. But even so, she held back the tears that wanted to escape her eyes and started walking back home.

You decided to go back to the party, being confused to see a very different environment than the one you were in when you went to your room. They were so happy, but now they were sitting or lying down and despondent, as if they were at a wake.

Upon noticing your presence there, they soon turned their attention to you, asking several questions at the same time and you couldn't understand any of them.

"Guys, one at a time." You said between laughs.

"Are you okay, hijita?" Your father asked looking worried, holding your hands in his.

"This is so cute guys, but I'm feeling really good, don't worry about me." You answered.

"It's like asking us to stop breathing and you know it very well." Agustín said.

"You all are sweethearts, I really love you all so much." You said with a smile.

"Well, you know, without the birthday girl, there's no fiesta." Antonio said, approaching you with an adorable shy smile and holding out his hands with a pink flower for you.

You felt your heart overflow with so much sweetness. You knelt down and picked up the flower, before giving him a kiss on the cheek. Soon after, he went to Luisa.

"Prima, am I allowed to dance with her?" He asked her.

"I don't know Tonito, she's the one who knows." Luisa replied with a smile.

The little boy turned to you and before he asked, you held him in your arms, holding one of his hands, while the other he held on to your shoulder to keep from falling.

"Please music!" You gladly requested.

Dolores, who was standing by the phonograph, nodded and turned the crank. The music started playing again and you danced with Antonio, who was amused when you twirled him in your arms.

Luisa watched delightedly how you had fun with her younger cousin, until one of her uncles also invited her to dance.

She chuckled as he approached her already sporting his dance moves.

"Oye sobrina!" Felix greeted her happily. "Would you do me the honor of this dance?" He requested, reaching out for her.

"It would be a pleasure, tío." She replied, placing her hand under his and the two joined the other couples in the dance space.

The rest of the night was more enjoyable than you thought it would be, you all had a hell of a time, dancing, talking, playing games and gorging on food.

When it was time to sing the song and cut the cake, you were surprised to see how big it was. It was the biggest birthday cake you ever had in your entire short life. Julieta explained that it was tradition to make the cake the ideal size to fit the candles of the birthday person's age.

After eating cake and talking some more, Isabela soon noticed that you looked a little uncomfortable, despite trying to hide it, with all that delay in their coming home.

"Family, friends, I think it's late and it's time to go home." She said with a smile on her face and putting her hands together.

You just smiled at what she said, but in the inside, you made a big effusive celebration.

"I think you're right, hija." Julieta said. "Mira, Bruno, can you help me get the dishes to take home?" She asked her youngest daughter and brother.

They both nodded and went to the kitchen.

"Guys, no need, let me wash..."

"No, it's no use insisting, the birthday girl won't do anything today!" She said in a stern voice. You didn't even make the effort to argue with her about it, you didn't want a big pile of dishes in the middle of your plans for that night.

They now left your house without you having to say goodbye at the door, they were used to it.

"Well amor, I think it's time for..."

"No." You said, interrupting when you saw that Luisa was saying goodbye to you to go home. "Stay with me today, please." You requested in a sweet tone of voice, holding her hand and looking her in the eyes.

She smiled at you and took you in her arms, wrapping you in an affectionate hug.

"Since you want to, I'm not going anywhere today." She replied, before giving you a kiss on the cheek.

Before leaving, Isabela and Mirabel made thumbs up signs for you, you smiled and you repeated the gesture to them.

"Uhh what's this about?" Luisa asked.

"Oh, it's nothing, mi amor." You replied, before approaching and giving her another hug, a sigh left your lips as you felt the heat of her body. "If I could, I would never let you go."

"And I would spend all day kissing you." She said sweetly and bent down, but before she gave you a kiss, you turned away from her.

You wanted her to save her energies for the rest of the night.

Luisa was confused by your rejection of her affection, you just blew her a kiss and went to your room.

"... I don't understand, did I do something wrong today?" She asked, as you lit the candles in the lamps, lighting up your room.

"No, why do you think you did something?" You asked, going to your closet and pulling out your prettiest nightgown, quickly hiding it so she wouldn't see it.

"I don't know, you just walked away when I went to kiss you, you've never done that before." She answered.

You went to the bed and sat beside her, took her hand in yours and kissed her.

"Corazón, why would I be mad at you? Especially after today. All I can say is that you had a surprise for me and... I have one for you too." You replied, hoping she would understand.

She continued to look at you with that same confused expression, until, after a few seconds, she gaped and her eyes widened as her reasoning finally gave her the answer.

You giggled at her reaction, it was so cute you felt like biting her.

"I'm going to take a shower and I'll be right back, I love you." You said, before giving her a quick kiss on the lips and ran to the bathroom, laughing excitedly.

Even after having witnessed everything with her own eyes, Luisa still couldn't believe it was true, but at the same time she felt like she was going to explode with happiness.

"I can't believe!" She exclaimed happily. "I can't believe it." She repeated, this time in a whisper. "I can't believe it!" She exclaimed again and jumped on the bed, laughing with glee like a child given a candy.

Timeskip...

After getting out of the shower, you put on your nightgown. You had never worn that one before because you thought it was too over the top with all that lace, but you liked it more than you expected how you looked dressed in it in front of the mirror.

After admiring yourself a little more, you quickly combed your hair and sprayed some perfume, afraid your girlfriend was starting to get impatient.

"Okay, it is time." You said, before taking a deep breath and slowly reentering the room.

Luisa was reading a book, but clumsily put it aside when she noticed her presence. The gleam in her eyes resembled the innocent look she had when the two of you first met, mixed with the passion that had come over the years. Or maybe it was there all along and only recently discovered.

You tried to act sexier, but ended up acting like a shy and scared animal, your hands clasped together and smiling shyly.

As you walked closer, you ended up tripping over one of your shoes and nearly fell over. You tried to act like nothing had happened and laughed nervously, earning an amused laugh from her, but soon she was back to admiring you.

"Wow..."

"What?" You asked, looking away and scratching your arm.

"I'm just stunned, because I've never seen such a beautiful woman in my life before." She whispered and then growled, making you laugh.

"Oh no, you're just being nice." You said, as you sat on your side of the bed.

"I'm serious, I think you're really beautiful. Do you doubt it?" she asked, leaning over and kissing you on the cheek.

"No cielo, I trust you, the problem is with my confidence in myself." You replied, as you reached out your hand and gently ran your fingers through her locks of hair.

She looked at you and your eyes met, completely lost in each other's gaze as your instincts kicked in and slowly took over your actions. Your hand came down and touched her shoulder, slipping inside her shirt and touched her skin.

Noticing your notable nervousness about taking the initiative, Luisa wrapped her hand around your wrist and held it, making your fingers curl under her grip. You gulped and felt your heart pound so hard it would bolt out of your chest as she guided your hand lower and placed it on her left breast.

You slowly opened your fingers again and held it in the palm of your hand, then wrapped it in a shy grip and gently brushed one finger over the prominent nipple showing through her blouse.

You lifted your gaze to look at her, enchanted by the expression on her beautiful face, she looked a little nervous like you, but at the same time she was ecstatic by your actions. Your cheeks flushed heavily, there was nothing in the world you wanted to do but kiss her.

You stood up, brushing the tip of your nose against hers so she would look at you.

Your eyes met again and happy smiles spread across your faces as her arms roughly pulled your body closer and your mouths touched again.

Your arms wrapped under her arms and hugged her back, desperately tugging at the fabric of her blouse as you two kissed with intense desire, eating each other from the inside out.

Almost out of breath, you took your hands lower and pulled the blouse that part of it was inside her skirt. She broke way from the kiss, but you still didn't pull too far away, your hands resting on her waist. She grabbed the edges of her blouse and undressed.

You looked on fearlessly, admiring how unique but at the same time perfect the shape of her body was, her skin looked beautiful lit by the lamps. The bra seemed to perfectly flatter the shape of her breasts, but what you wanted most was them out of your way.

"Ay Luisa." You sighed passionately, wanting to kiss her feet.

She looked as touched as you made her feel like the most beautiful woman in the world. You leaned against her hand as she brought it up to your face and caressed your cheek.

"Are you sure you really want to do this?" She muttered.

You turned your head to the side and kissed her palm.

"I've never been so sure what I want in my life. I love you so much." You said softly. "But... I don't think I know exactly how it works."

Luisa just smiled and gave you a tender kiss on the forehead.

"It's okay, I'll teach you." She whispered, so sensually husky it sent shivers on every inch of your skin.

You remained still, as she carefully took off your glasses and put it on the little desk on the side of the bed.

You leaned down and pressed your lips together in another passionate kiss, as you slowly laid her down on the mattress.

It was just the beginning of the happiest night of your life. You finally understood that phrase they always said: "To love at all is to love entirely".

No matter how many times your mother tried, you loved her and you would never give up on her.

[aliensunflower-fics]

‘Akumatized Marinette’ A funny prompt!

So ive seen a few different fics and posts where Lila convinces the class that Marinette is in fact Mayura and/or is working in some way for Hawkmoth, using such evidence as ‘Marinette’s never been akumatized’ and citing how sometimes Marinette’s attempts to be helpful or friendly or yes her mistakes have resulted in an akuma going after her classmates. Also other evidence like how many akumas the class has had total. But what if Lila could not convince class that Marinette was working with Hawkmoth, desperate to connect Marinette to the supervillain in hopes of plummeting her reputation Lila claims that Marinette is in fact AKUMATIZED hence her villainous actions towards Lila!

Now just follow me here:

What if the class don't believe Lila THAT MUCH. Sure Lila has them convinced that she’s a diplomats daughter and that shes got a million illnesses and physical problems and yes she even has everyone believing that she’s famous and that her and Adrien are a secret item [how scandalous!]. But no one in the class will for a SECOND believe that Marinette is working with Hawkmoth. Lila has tried broaching the subject several times, shes tried leaving ‘hints’ and pointing things out that seem ‘incriminating’ but each and every time she does the class scoff and each of them begin listing a 100 reasons why Marinette is definitely NOT a fan of Hawkmoth and would never work with him.

Frustrated but determined to connect the super villain to Marinette and alienate the girl further Lila seethes and plots. Getting more frustrated each failed attempt and trying to chew off her own sausage hair when people talk about how Marinette would definitely kick Hawkmoth’s ass. Then one day Marinette walks in with a totally new look, she’s cut her hair into a messy pixie cut and is going for a pink punk look. The look gets everyone's attention and the day is spent with everyone complimenting the baker girl [she even gets asked out by a few of the guys in the other classes] frustrated that everyone is paying attention to Marinette instead of herself Lila cant help but make up some big lie about how Marinette assaulted her and stole her money.

The class is justifiably shocked! They have been especially protective of Marinette and her reputation ever since she was expelled and nearly akumatized so more then a few of them start yelling at Lila even Alya who normally sides with Lila due to her belief that her designer friend is jealous is furious at Lila for making an accusation like that! Desperate to recover from the poorly timed and worded lie she’s made Lila thinks fast and comes up with a scheme just crazy enough to work! She claims that obviously it wasn’t ACTUALLY Marinette, no it was the horrible akuma MARIONETTE! The class blinks taken aback but they can’t help but ask what Lila is talking about.

The italian smirks feeling sinister pleasure course through her. She begins weaving her sob story tale! About how Marinette had snuck into one of Adrien and Lila’s photoshoots! Where the poor baker girl saw them *gasp* KISSING! Poor Marinette heartbroken and distraught was akumatized into the horrible monster Marionette! Who stalked Lila home and attacked her! She goes on to claim that the Marinette who was in class today was NOT in fact their good friend rocking a new style and haircut but was instead a vicious akuma after all why do you think Lila was keeping so far away from Marinette all day? She’s TRAUMATIZED after her ordeal and now Marionette the akuma is attending class as if she were Marinette! How terrible could Hawkmoth be to be using their heartbroken friend like this!

The class doesn’t want to believe it, but it makes such perfect sense Marinette WOULD be heartbroken by seeing Adrien the ‘love of her life’ kissing Lila her main rival! And just yesterday Marinette looked completely normal with her cute little pigtails and her signature outfit! She never told any of them she was even GOING to get a haircut! And surely if Marinette was going to make such a big change in her appearance she would have told her bestie Alya right?

But now what is the class to do? Poor Marinette is akumatized and they have no idea what to do or what her object could possibly be! Max, always the logical one concludes that they should simply contact Ladybug and have her help poor Marinette! Lila quickly jumps in claiming she already tried contacting Ladybug OBVIOUSLY since the pair are besties! But that Marionette tricked Ladybug into believing she wasn’t akumatized at all! “No!” Lila laments, “were going to need to take care of this ourselves!”

The class is resolute determined to help poor Marinette without the help of Ladybug who has fallen for Hawkmoth’s most clever trick yet. But Lila is quick to warn them that they MUST be careful after all Marionette is a VERY powerful akuma, they cant know for sure the true extent of her terrible powers or when or WHO she might attack next! Lila fears that it will be poor Adrien or perhaps herself again! Insert fake sobs here. The class vow to protect Lila and Adrien from Marionette, and Alya who believes she’s best equipped for this situation since she IS Rena Rouge takes charge of the situation, they decide that no one is allowed to be alone with Marionette and NONE of them are to let the akuma know that they are on to her! They need to play the long game and figure out what her akumatized object is so that they can snatch it and free Marinette from Hawkmoth’s dastardly clutches!

Lila rejoices believing that she’s finally achieved victory, the class now think that Marinette is a dangerous monster and will isolate her, not to mention Lila now believes she can make up any lie she wants about Marinette and that the class will unquestioningly believe her! She goes home with a pep in her step eagerly plotting for all the lies and perks she can get from this newest lie and decides to eat a whole tub of ice cream to celebrate her cleverness, unaware that she’s just signed the ticket for her defeat.

You see the class LOVE Marinette, she’s their friend, and ‘learning’ that she’s been turned into some sort of monstrous extremely clever akuma is both a suprise and none at all. Later on as they all chat in the newly made text group Max points out how it was obvious that Marinette would become the most dangerous and clever akuma shes the smartest person in class besides himself and extremely creative and resourceful. Rose laments about how hurt Marinette must be and how they simply MUST save her as soon as possible. Alix curses Hawkmoth out and claims that the sick freak was probably TARGETING Marinette for awhile now because of how awesome she is. Nino and Kim cry about how their childhood bff needs them now more then ever! And Alya tells them to get ready because they cant abandon Marinette now that she needs them most!

The next day Lila comes to class ready to spin another tale about how the vicious akuma Marionette destroyed her room last night! And while the class do listen and tell Lila that it sucks that happened they seem noticeably... Distracted. When Marinette walks into the room the class practically explodes, Rose and Juleka INSIST that Marinette sit behind them so they can talk! Everyone has some sweet compliment to give to the baker reminding her about how wonderful she is! Lila’s jaw drops open as her classmates practically rush to hug and touch and talk to what they believe is a horrible monstrous Akuma! And it doesnt end their.

Lila asks Alya to hang out at the mall? She cant her and Nino are going to be on ‘Marionette’ surveillance tracking the akuma to see what shes up to and if she might show her akumatized object! Lila decides to try woo Mylene and Ivan into letting her handle their charities ‘finances’? Mylene starts crying about how the charity was Marinette’s idea before she got akumatized and now she might not even remember how amazing it was when shes eventually de-akumatized Lila cant stand hearing them talk about her enemy and gives up her pursuit of the funds. Lila decides to hang out with Kitty Section? They invited Marionette to every show hoping Luka would notice that she’s an akuma and use his amazing intuition to help free poor poor Marinette!

Instead of ostracizing the girl Marinette is now invited to every big event, and is constantly being showered with compliments and love as if the class believes that just loving Marinette enough will be the thing that ‘de-akumatizes’ her. “At least they wont let her anywhere near myself or Adrien.” Lila thinks bitterly as she gets her 5th warning that day that Lila might want to sit out the class going to the movies together with MARIONETTE.

During this time the class has been pulling off various ‘heists’ slowly going through each and every one of Marinette’s belongings to check if its the akumatized object. And I do mean every single belonging. Her sketchbook was ruled out within the first few days same with her signature earrings it was Kim who checked those and it involved a complicated plan involving taking Marinette swimming and having Kim fake a drowning in order to get close enough to ‘Marionette’ to check the studs. Luckily for Tikki, Ondine who was also at the pool decided to save Kim instead and the poor jock got quite flustered when the swimmer performed CPR on him.

Nino and the rest of the boys are the ones tasked with breaking into Marinette’s room while the girl is away on a sleepover with the girls. In order to ‘test’ each object in her room for the source of the akuma. They got a bit too loud and had to make a last minute escape when they heard Tom and Sabine going into fight mode. Poor Nino wasn’t fast enough and was forced to lie through his teeth that he’d been trying to surprise Marinette with a hangout like when they were little kids. [poor kid ended up drinking hot cocoa with Tom and Sabine as they showed off embarrassing baby pictures of Nino and Marinette together]

After about a month or so of shenanigans including a very embarrassing incident involving the entire class accidentally spying on Marinette’s first big date with Luka/Kagami/Felix/Damian [just pick one they are all great ships] and them getting caught red handed thanks to Alix and Kim roughhousing and making a scene at the nice restaurant. And another incident that Alya refers to only as the ‘duck incident’ [Nino can no longer be around birds or feathers] the class is no closer to learning where Marionette’s akumatized object is. And Lila Rossi who thought she’d be bathing in her victory is on the verge of screaming if one more person ignores her!

How does it end? Well maybe the class stage an intervention hoping they can free Marinette with the power of love only for Marinette to fall off of something laughing when she learns what Lila’s big lie was. Maybe Lila finally snaps and screams when she hears the class lament about POOR Marinette for the billionth time. Maybe the class try breaking absolutely everything Marinette owns, Maybe Juleka points out that its kind of weird that Marionette the akuma doesn’t really do... anything? And can change clothes? Can akuma’s do that? No right??? Aren’t their clothes like melded to their body??? Maybe the class finally get Adrien thinking he can ‘fix’ Marinette only for him to very confusedly tell them hes not dating Lila and has never kissed her and what Marinette akumatized??? Maybe The class recruit Luka and Kagami, Marinette’s other friends only for them to have a great laugh at the class before pointing out the literal mountain of things wrong with everything they just said.

Just fun shenanigans and ‘akumatized’ Marinette.

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[starryhyuck]

Hello! Can i request an smut with Johnny? A very soft and caring school girl that actually is a very filthy girl and never stops thinking about Volleyball Player!Johnny. Thank you for taking your time, hope you're taking care 💖 Have a good day or night

seo johnny will kill you someday.

you’re absolutely sure of it as you watch him on the court, diving for the volleyball before it hits the ground. the whole auditorium breaks into applause when he’s able to get it over the net and score a point for the team.

the other team calls for a timeout, and yoojung nudges you and points to the line for snacks. “i’m gonna get a burger. want something?”

you shake your head and she leaves your side. your eyes return to johnny’s figure as he towers over his teammates, drinking from his water bottle as the coach relays the game plan for the rest of the team. you drink in the sight of him and although your friends would never know it, johnny’s got your panties soaked.

none of them know about your crush on the captain of the volleyball team, they just genuinely believe you like watching the game. they have no reason to think otherwise — you play the part of an innocent school girl very well. they have no idea that your mind swirls with thoughts about bouncing on johnny’s cock in the school’s library-

you’re taken out of your trance by the referee’s whistle. you cough when yoojung comes back, sitting down next to you.

“i heard there’s a party at jaehyun’s after this. wanna go?”

you shrug. “sure. sounds fun.”

you’ve been to a few of jaehyun’s after game parties and they’re pretty tame. jaehyun’s not exactly looking to throw a rager on a school night, he usually just wants to hang out with his friends and talk about the game.

the last few times you attended, you’ve gone with your friend, mark, who’s good friends with johnny. johnny likes to tease mark often since he’s younger and so he can watch mark flush with embarrassment.

it’s not like johnny doesn’t know who you are either — you’ve just never been close enough to hold a conversation with him. you run in the same group but you’re not as acquainted with him as your other friends.

you’re brought back to the current reality when the people next to you stand up to cheer. yoojung is one of them, tugging your arm and hauling you up from your seat. you realize that your team has won the game and you weren’t even paying attention.

johnny is rejoicing, laughing and enveloping his teammates in a large group hug.

“can you believe we won?” yoojung yells in your ear over the noise. “let’s congratulate them!”

like the rest of the crowd, you and yoojung run down the steps and flood the gymnasium floor. you’re lost in the sea of bodies and you’re surprised when johnny comes into your view.

he’s laughing with jaehyun before he realizes you’re standing there.

“good game,” you shout at him.

he chuckles, his eyes sparkling as he smiles at you.

“thanks, y/n.”

“are you coming to the party, y/n?” jaehyun asks. johnny throws him a look that you don’t catch.

“yeah! i’ll be there!”

he smirks and johnny hits his shoulder. you ignore their interaction when johnny’s gaze returns to you.

“see you there.”

—

most of your friends have already arrived when you and yoojung pull up to jaehyun’s house. jihyo takes your arm and asks if you’ve finished the homework for calculus while yoojung tells you she’s going to find something to drink.

johnny’s lounging on the couch next to ten, laughing at whatever taeil has just said. you pretend to be remotely interested in what jihyo has to say, eyes focused on the leather jacket hugging johnny’s body so perfectly.

“so what do you think? study session together on thursday?”

you blink twice and return your gaze to jihyo, who is patiently waiting for your response. you clear your throat awkwardly.

“yeah! that sounds great!”

she smiles thankfully at you before excusing herself to go to the restroom. jaehyun notices you from his spot at the kitchen counter and motions for you to walk over to him.

when you approach him, he smiles fondly at you.

“you came!”

“i said i would,” you murmur, accepting the drink he offers you.

his dimples poke out as his grin never falters. his eyes flit over to where johnny is sitting.

“johnny was hoping you would come.”

“oh?” you murmur, coughing a little. you ignore the sound of jaehyun’s snicker. “why would that be?”

jaehyun is looking like the cheshire cat at this point. “take a guess. why would johnny want to hang out with a pretty girl?”

you cough again.

jaehyun turns around. “hey, johnny,” he calls out. “look who‘s here.”

johnny’s eyes practically sparkle when they land on you. he gets up to join you and jaehyun, smiling while he plays with the rim of his solo cup.

“hey, you made it!”

you laugh nervously. “yeah, i did.”

jaehyun sneaks away to leave you two alone, and you feel incredibly small underneath johnny’s heavy stare. if he notices your squirming, he doesn’t comment on it. you’ve never been left alone with johnny like this and it honestly has your heart racing. seeing him up close like this — you can feel wetness pool in your underwear.

“i noticed you come to most of our games,” he comments. you still refuse to meet his eyes. “starting to think you have a crush on jaehyun or something.”

you laugh. “jaehyun’s cute, but not my type.”

johnny raises an eyebrow. “really? what’s your type then?”

you finally stare back at him, and the smirk is evident on his face. you decide to be bold and voice your inner thoughts.

“take a guess. i wonder why a girl like me would go to every single one of the school’s volleyball games.”

your whole body is on fire and johnny hasn’t even done anything to you yet. the weight of his stare is boring into you, goosebumps rising on your arms. you desperately want to touch him but you can’t do it here. not in front of everybody.

he takes a step closer to you, and your breath hitches. he places his cup on the kitchen counter so he can wrap his arm around your waist. you gulp and lay your hand on his chest as he leans down to whisper in your ear.

“you’re not as good as you seem, are you baby?”

you blink, your eyes wandering around the room to see if anyone’s looking at you. everyone seems to be in their own little bubble — paying no regard to how johnny holds you. johnny doesn’t seem to care about anyone else, his grip tightening on you.

“answer me, baby.”

“um, i- i mean, i-“

he chuckles at your stuttering. “why don’t we go somewhere more quiet? that way i can hear you better.”

and you nod, letting him lead you to one of the spare bedrooms in the house. he shuts the door so you two have complete privacy. you awkwardly take a seat on the bed and johnny joins you, giving you a small smile.

“this is better. i’ve been waiting to talk with you alone for a long time now.”

“is that so?” you murmur, twitching nervously as he inches closer to you.

“need to tell me what you like, baby. i don’t wanna cross any boundaries.”

you take the leap. johnny’s surprised when you climb into his lap, pressing your mouth down on his. he groans and wraps his arm around your waist, holding you steady as you kiss him passionately. you break apart to whisper your desires.

“need you, daddy. i think about you all the time.” johnny practically growls at your confession, and you egg him on further. “come to those games just to see you. i imagine you taking me on the court for everyone to see.”

“fuck, baby,” he hisses. he flips you over so that he has you pinned underneath him. you squeak when you land on the pillows. “you’re just a filthy slut, aren’t you? little innocent schoolgirl just needs a big cock to make her feel better, doesn’t she?”

you whimper and nod. “need your big cock, daddy. need you to stretch out my tight hole.”

johnny makes an incoherent noise, his fingers coming up to lift up your shirt. “fuck,” he mutters, eyeing the lacy white bra you’re wearing. “you’re so fucking pretty, baby.”

he pulls down your bra to envelop his mouth on your breast and you moan, arching at his touch. his tongue circles your nipple and you shudder. he pulls away after giving a few more licks and tugs, returning to kissing you.

his fingers glide over the expanse of your thighs and you’re grateful that you opted into wearing a skirt today. it gives johnny easy access to your underwear as he runs a finger over your clothed slit. you whine and buck your hips up, begging to be touched.

“so impatient,” he hums. “been waiting a long time for me, haven’t you?”

you frantically nod. “so long, daddy.”

he smirks. “do you think about me when you’re wet, baby? finger yourself to the thought of me?”

“i always think of you, daddy. but my fingers are never enough. i think you would do a lot better.”

he grins. “let’s see.”

he pulls your underwear to the side and plays with your folds gently. you moan at his touch and he leans down to press another kiss to your lips. when he slides a finger inside your entrance, you cry against him.

“so tight, baby,” he whispers. “can barely fit my finger inside. wonder if you can take my cock.”

“i can take it, i can take it,” you quickly assure. he laughs breathily at you before pushing another finger inside, stretching out your weeping pussy. it isn’t long before he’s scissoring you, watching as your face contorts into pleasure. he fingers you for a while longer before he can’t take it anymore.

“need to eat you out, baby. you look too good,” he says, retracting his fingers and moving down the bed. he wastes no time in delving into your pussy and in the midst of his frantic state, he rips your underwear in half.

“johnny!”

he chuckles, taking a lick up your slit. “sorry, baby. got carried away.”

you completely forget about it as he sucks at your folds, his tongue greedily lapping up your juices. he eats you out so sweetly, being gentle and cautious with you while also bringing you enormous pleasure. you climax in no time, back arching as you fall apart around his tongue. you cry when the oversensitivity becomes too much and johnny pulls away. you watch with lust filled eyes as your juices drip down his chin.

he sits up and unbuckles his jeans, pulling them down and exposing his hard cock. you eyes widen at how big his length is. he’s fucking massive and you can already feel the burn in your throat at the thought of taking him.

johnny can sense what you’re thinking, running his hand up and down his shaft while you watch.

“look at how hard i am for you, baby. you always do this to me. i get so fucking hard watching you walk around in these short skirts, acting like you’re the most innocent girl. you don’t know how many times i’ve wanted to flip up your skirt and pound you until you’re crying.”

you sob. “please, daddy. want it so badly.”

he quickly flips you over, smacking your ass and watching the way your skirt bounces at the movement. you cry as he shoves your face down into the pillows, ass high up in the air. he runs the tip of his cock over your entrance and you practically salivate at the thought of taking him fully.

“want me, baby?”

“yes yes,” you blubber. “want daddy’s big cock.”

when he finally pushes into you, you whimper at the pain. he’s bigger than you imagined, and you can tell johnny’s struggling to fit inside you. “relax for me, baby,” he murmurs. “so fucking tight. what a sweet pussy.” he continues to stretch you out with his cock, and you can feel every ridge and vein digging into your walls.

“daddy, daddy,” you repeat when he bottoms out. johnny groans at the feeling, letting you get adjusted to his girth.

after the pain subsides into pleasure, you desperately buck your hips back into him.

“ready to take daddy’s cock, baby?”

“fuck me, daddy,” you beg.

he wastes no time and starts pounding into you. he wraps his fingers around your hair and pulls, making you cry at the pain. you scream as he slams into you over and over, reaching your sweet spot and sending you to cloud nine. you don’t care who hears you at this point, and you want everyone to know how well you’re taking johnny’s cock.

“feels so fucking good,” he growls, one hand digging into your hip to gain leverage on you. “pussy was made for my cock, baby.”

you can barely form a coherent sentence, babbling and chanting daddy back to him. johnny lifts you up so that your back is against his chest, and he eagerly fucks up into you while watching your expression. you imagine you look absolutely filthy — mouth wide open and eyes rolled back. he pinches your clit and you whimper.

“gonna cum for daddy, baby? gonna let everyone know how you take daddy’s big cock?” he hisses in your ear. he licks at the shell of your ear and continues whispering dirty things. “pussy’s so nice and wet for me. squeeze my cock so nicely, baby. you’ve been waiting for daddy’s big load for a long time, haven’t you?”

“y-y-yes, daddy,” you reply.

you don’t even register your orgasm until it’s finished, going limp in johnny’s arms. you’re dizzy and incoherent, but you can hear johnny speak to you.

“didn’t know you were a squirter, baby.”

your eyebrows furrow in confusion and you glance down at the sheets, completely soaked in your juices. you’ve never squirted before, and johnny can sense what’s on your mind. he still hasn’t cum yet, and his assault on your pussy is relentless as he bucks into you.

your fingers dig into his arm when the oversensitivity hits you.

“can you do it again?” he grunts. “wanna see you make a pretty little mess for me.”

the bed is flooded with your juices by the end of the night as johnny is determined to watch you fall apart over and over again on his cock.

[spidernerdsblog]

You’re a Sunflower (Part 2)

A/N : as some of you requested a second part here is it. I tried to incorporate all of the ideas you sent. Hope you like it. Let me know what you think.

Part 1

Pairing : Peter Parker x Reader

Summary : you finally come out of coma.

Warnings : none 

Peter’s phone rang the caller id flashing with Mr Stark’s name as he receives the call

“Hey Mr. Stark”

“Hey kid, where are you?” his voice sounded a little wary.

“Uh I’m at a college party. Is everything alright?” Peter frowns.

“Uh Peter you might want to be here at the compound right now”

“Anything wrong?”

“It’s Y/N” Peter felt his heart clench at it as an unknown fear gripped him.

“Y/N? What happened to her?” he asks restlessly.

“Things don't seem pretty good you should come as early as possible” Peter ends the call immediately without wasting time he rushed out of the party. Reaching the compound he runs out of the elevator to go to your room.

“Y/N! Y/N!” he pants as he finds your room empty.

“Peter..” Tony places a hand on his shoulder.

“Mr Stark where’s Y/N?” he turns to him with tears in his eyes.

“She has been shifted to the emergency room, her vitals were fluctuating massively. We have called in the best team of doctors and Strange is personally supervising everything. All will be fine kid” Tony tries his best to calm him down just then Strange and Banner walk out of the emergency room.

“What is her condition now Strange?” Tony asks.

“Nothing satisfactory. The toxin levels in her brain are just increasing by time we are trying to lower it but she isn’t responding to any of the drugs. If it deteriorates further I’m sorry to say but she might suffer a multi organ failure” Strange informs sadly.

“Mr Stark what if you give my blood to her? The spider venom in it will quickly heal her” Peter sounded desperate as he proposes the idea to them.

“Peter, are you forgetting that your father genetically modified the venom which is only compatible with his bloodline. Your blood will just worsen her condition” Tony says disapprovingly.

“I know but you’re the genius Tony Stark. Can’t you and Bruce think of a way to reverse engineer it and make her DNA compatible with my blood?” 

“It's impossible Peter it will take days, we even don’t know if it will even work or not and Y/N is running out of time” Banner points out.

“No, no there’s got to be some other way” he rambles pacing up and down the room.

“Peter, listen, you need to calm down” Tony advises.

“How can I calm down when the love of my life, my best friend is dying in front of my eyes and I’m sitting here helpless?!” Peter snaps out at him before dropping down on a nearby chair feeling awful at yelling at his father figure like mentor. He was completely broken from inside seeing you in your deathbed. He has lost his parents, his uncle, he doesn’t want to lose you too.

“Peter, we can understand what you’re going through everyone here loves Y/N  dearly but you have to stay strong” Natasha sat beside him rubbing his shoulders gently to help him calm down.

“Her pulse is declining” one of the doctors announced

“Charge the defibrillators now” Strange orders as he rushes inside.

“Y/N!” Peter stands up immediately 

“No, Peter you can’t go inside” everybody stops him.

“You don’t understand Y/N is dying she needs me” Peter sobbed.

“No one is dying today, get yourself together Queens” Steve orders him strictly.

Peter saw through the glass partition from outside the emergency room, your face covered with an oxygen mask and several wires connecting your body to different machines in the room, the team of doctors surrounding you trying their best in keeping you alive. One of them charged the defibrillator and placed the paddles on your chest. Your body jolted at the shock as everyone observed the monitor with anticipation but unfortunately your heart rate was continuously decreasing. They repeated the process but it seemed to be a futile attempt.

The beeping went slower and the HRM flat lined as Peter stared at it blankly.

Is this how your story ends? No heartfelt conversations, no last goodbyes just you drifting away from him in your sleep forever. The promise you made to each other of growing old together now lay broken. He hates to make this about himself but what is he supposed to do without you? When life gets hard who is he gonna pour his heart out to? Who’s going to cheer him up and make him believe in himself? Will he never get the chance to say how much he loves you? That you’re his ray of sunshine, his sunflower. You lighten up his life with your warmth and love and without you it’s all dark and cold. Tears trickled down his eyes as he watched the doctors give cpr to your limp body.

“Okay one more time” they charged the device and pressed it on your chest. Your body jolted all eyes inside and outside the room trained on the monitor hoping for some miracle to happen and after some nerve racking seconds later the machine started to beep again with kinks appearing in the monitor showing your heart was beating again. Everyone heaved a sigh of relief and rejoiced at it.

Strange and Banner walk out of the room to break the news that you were finally responding to the medicines and the toxin levels have decreased in your body. They also indicated that there may be a slight chance of you to wake up from your coma. Peter refused to go back home and stayed up all night by your side. He had decided to never let you out of his sight anymore.

🌻

Next morning Peter was dozing off beside you half asleep whilst you lay on the bed motionless, the sunlight peeking through the blinders of the window when suddenly you mumbled in your sleep.

“Peter…Peter..” Peter immediately jolted out of his sleep, his eyes wide in surprise and disbelief he thought he may be hearing things due to lack of sleep and then he watched you stir in your sleep there was a surge of emotions inside him as he jumped off his seat.

“Y/N?” lacing his hand to yours he shouted out “Mr Stark! Y/N is awake!”  

“Peter..” you mumbled again 

“Y/N I’m right here” his voice quivered, holding your hand tighter as tears filled his eyes. You squint your eyes open your pupils slowly adjusting to the lighting of the room and the first thing you saw was Peter’s warm honey brown eyes red and puffy tears streaming down the corners.

“Hey” he sniffles, smiling weakly. You tried to sit up with a groan.

“No, no don’t get up you’re weak” Peter makes you lie down again, your eyes scanning the unfamiliar surroundings.

“Where am I?” you ask in a raspy voice.

“You’re in the Avengers med facility” he informs wiping his tears with his hands.

“Why? What happened?” you frown as you hold your head a dull ache still persisting. “Why can’t I remember anything? The last thing I recall is you defeated eletro and-and then Harry threw me off the building, I-I was so scared” you rambled. He pulled you in his arms caressing the back of your head gently.

“I know, I know but everything is okay now, you’re safe” he murmured softly, you pulled away to look at him properly. 

“Did you get him?” Peter takes a long sigh before breaking the news to you.

“No Y/N and it has been 3 months to that incident” his voice was calm as your eyes bulged out in shock.

“Wait 3 months! But why don’t I remember anything after that?” you were totally lost.

“Y/N you had been in a coma for the last three months” he informs you.

“What?” you looked at him in disbelief 

“Yes Y/N I couldn’t save you on time and you were badly injured, the doctors were also unsure that if you were ever gonna recover but finally you are awake now”

“Oh my god..wait, where’s mom and dad? Are they ok? And aunt May?” you badgered him with questions.

“Everyone is fine Y/N and they will soon be here to meet you” he assures you meanwhile Tony came rushing in.

“Peter we heard you..” he stopped as soon as his eyes went to you “oh my god Y/N you’re finally awake” he exclaims in joy as the other avengers walk in the room they were equally happy and relieved that you have finally recovered.

“Welcome back to the land of the awakened” Natasha snickers giving you a warm hug as you smiled widely “Girl you really scared us last night”

Everyone asked you about how you’re feeling to which you had to reassure them several times that you feel fine. Your parents came to visit you along with aunt May; it was indeed an emotional moment for everyone. 

Later when everybody had finally left you alone in your room to rest Peter came in with a bouquet of sunflowers in hand. Your face instantly lit up seeing him. You never got the chance to talk to him properly between your parents and friends dropping by to pay you a visit and ask about your wellbeing so you were dying to have some alone time with him. 

“Aw you brought me sunflowers?” you chimed and he gave you a warm smile.

“Of course they’re your favourite after all, I actually brought them everyday for you so whenever you wake up you see the thing that makes you happiest” he says putting them inside the vase and then sits beside you.

“Then I have to say it's you who makes me the happiest” you reach out your hand to cup his face he holds it with his hand and softly kisses it.

Tony along with the other avengers were on their way to check up on you but they stopped at the doorway seeing you both.

“Aww they look so cute together again” Natasha gushed while Tony and Steve broke into a smile.

“I’m so happy to see the kid smiling again these past three months had been hell for him” Tony looks at Peter proudly.

“Let’s not disturb them right now and ruin the moment for them” Steve suggested.

“Yeah let them be, they deserve some alone time” Natasha and Tony agreed and went away. 

“Ok I know the college applications are closed now but I’m sure Mr Stark can pull some strings and I’ll provide you with all the notes you don’t have to worry about anything ok” Peter says cheerfully.

“Peter I just woke up from a three month coma. The last thing I want to hear right now is about college and exams” 

“Ok so what do you wanna talk about?” he scratches the back of his neck nervously.

“Can we just talk about you? How are you?”

“Well now that you’re out of coma I’m good, I really missed you so much” his face drops remembering the tragic night.

“Wish I could say the same if I wasn’t completely knocked out heh” you tried to lighten the mood.

“I was so scared for a moment I thought I lost you forever” he clings onto your hand

“It’s ok Peter I’m here now and completely fine, see” you tried to cheer him up

“No it's not this was all my fault, if it wasn’t for me your life wouldn’t have come in danger. It was to take revenge on me Harry threw you off the building and I couldn’t even save you” he sniffles. You cradle his face with your hands and make him look at you.

“Peter, look at me. it. wasn’t. your fault. do you understand? You had always tried to keep me away from your dangerous life but it was I who insisted to stay by your side and I’m gonna continue doing that” you gazed into his chocolate brown eyes “and as I said before I laugh at the face of danger see I even defeated death for you” you chuckled.

“And that will be the last time Y/N, promise me whatever happens you’ll never put your life in danger for me again, promise me Y/N” he insists as you sigh.

“Okay I promise you” you pull him closer to you as he leans forward to capture your lips. It had been a long time he had felt your soft lips on his as he instantly melted in the kiss. It was so delicate, soft and full of love as tears of joy streamed down both of your eyes.

..................................................................................

[hacked-by-jake]

In case no one has formally asked you yet, a part 3 of Jake being hot for 1 minute straight? 😄 I'm seriously addicted 🙈

Love your work, dear!! ❤

Headcanon

Summary: And another 25 things that show how hot jake is.

> Part 1 / > Part 2

A/n: First of all, thank you very much for your sweet words! @dreamer-writer-fangirl❤️ I am very happy that you like it and I hope that this part is just as good.🥰

And also many thanks to you, dear Anon. I’m very happy that you want a third part.❤️

So, thanks to the wish for a third part, we are here. This time it became a little more difficult to find things so that’s why it’s only 25. But I hope it’s okay anyway. 😅

Same as always: excuse the mistakes.

So, Have fun, stay healthy and take care of yourselves.❤️🌹🎭

Jake is a night person, and he has infected you a little bit with it. You have this particular place on top of a building in Duskwood where you’ve spent tons of romantic, funny, passionate evenings. You just love to talk about everything that comes to your mind. Being open and honest.

Jake will help you cook a lot. You always listen to loud music, dance (ok, mostly just you), tease each other, laughs, sings the lyrics aloud, and sometimes it ends with you not getting to finish the food

Jake sometimes uses really bad flirt attempts, he knows they are bad but he finds it far too amusing. 'Do you believe in love at first sight or should I come in again?' - 'We should go showers together, that saves water" even if he makes fun of it, you love these little jokes.

If something doesn’t work the way Jake wants it to work, sometimes he gets pretty pissed off. He then looks for your closeness every time, just wants a hug or a kiss and distracts himself with you.

Jake has a habit, sometimes, when he want to tell you that he loves you, that he asking you before if you want to hear a secret and whispering it in your ear afterwards.

Jake always kisses your forehead twice before he falls asleep, even when you’re already asleep.

Since Jake doesn’t like to go swimming when you go to Duskwood’s lake with the group, you once went swimming together in the middle of the night (A/n: I think I want to write a OneShot about it lol) Only the light of the car has given you light and you have spent hours at the lake.

Jake has the ability to notice when you’re having nightmares, whether he’s in his study or sleeping himself. He’ll wake you up and calm you down. He will always suggest you to talk about it and will always listen to you no matter how tired he is.

Jake hates arguing with you, and luckily you don’t argue much. But once, when you were really fighting, he became totally hysterical and panicked. He was afraid that this argument would escalate even further, but he was able to end the dispute quickly, even if it was accidentally. He suddenly asked in the middle of the conversation, 'If you keep yelling at me like that, can we go outside?' You were completely perplexed and looked out the window where it rained terribly. When you pointed him out, he replied, 'I know, but at least I get a melodramatic movie moment,' you couldn’t stay serious and had to laugh, just like him. You both apologized and then calmly talked about the problem.

Since you’ve been a couple, Jake loves to go to another place for a few days, just to experience something new with you. Sometimes it’s just a weekend, sometimes several days, you decide spontaneously and don’t think about where you are going.

Jake usually wants you to choose a movie because he’s afraid you might not like the movie he chooses and you only agree because you want to do him a favor. You really have to force him to pick out a movie, and he’ll keep asking you if this movie is okay with you.

Jake is always afraid that something will happen to you if you use a knife while cooking. When you’re on a ladder, he’s afraid you’ll fall. If you don’t let him help you, he’ll turn away so he won’t have to look at you. If you want to walk across a street, he’ll double-check if a car comes.

No matter what time you get the idea, if you want something from McDonald’s or a pizza, or even if it’s just an ice cream, no matter what it is, Jake will go with you and get what you want.

When you used to lie on your balcony at night and Jake came out so you could go to bed, you said you could lie here all night. So Jake took the mattress of your bed and all the pillows and blankets you have and slept on the balcony together. You’ve been doing this often since then.

Jake had a necklace made especially for you, the pendant is his mark, the eye. Even if strangers do not know that it is his sign, he always makes sure that it hangs over your top and can always see himself that you belong to him.

Jake has a list of all the things and places you’d like to see. he wants to make it possible for you to see all of it.

Since Jake is much more active at night than during the day, you experience most things together at night. Wander around, go to dinner, exploring the city at night while sharing headphones and listening to music. Or rocking on a playground at night.

There’s a flower delivery service in Duskwood. And sometimes Jake orders flowers for you there and sends them to your apartment. When it sounds and you open the door, Jake will watch from afar how you rejoice when another bouquet of your favorite flowers arrives. He will always send small messages with the flowers. Simple things like 'I love you' or 'you look beautiful today'

Jake loves photos of you, preferably those you didn’t expect to be photographed. Jake loves taking pictures of you secretly. If you’re focused, while reading a book, drawing, or just scrolling through your Instagram feed. Sometimes you don’t even know that he took a pictur. He also loves pictures where you laugh. When you are out with the group and you laugh at something, he secretly takes pictures. Actually, at all times.

At the beginning Jake had a hard time taking pictures on which you are both on, but over time he has learned to love it more and more. Most of the time you don’t see him completely on photos, mostly only half the face or not at all. Sometimes when you take a picture of yourself, Jake uses the situation to sneak up on you and kiss you. On the cheek, on the forehead, your lips. Or just hugging you from behind and hiding his head in your neck bend.

Jake sometimes changes his background image several times a day, either it’s a picture of you or one of you both. But he cannot decide and therefore changes constantly, because he finds that all images are worth seeing.

That’s why you can watch Jake sometimes while he's unlocking his phone or looking at his computer and starts to grin when he sees the pictures. Even though he sees you every day, it makes him very happy.

You always have a serie you only watch together, when you have finished one, you look for a new one.

Sometimes it takes a long time in the morning to get out of bed. When you wake up and Jake’s still with you, sometimes you’ll spend another two hours only with cuddling. You just lie down, talk, spend quiet time together where none of you say anything. Well, and sometimes there are other reasons why you can’t separate from the bed.

Regular pillow fights or tickle attacks. If you just lie on the sofa or in bed, and you tease each other, it can lead to pillow fights that take on an insane extent or just like tickle attacks that often lead to sex.

Masterlist

[mctherofdragons]

Against the Tides | 5 | F. W.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader

AU: Pirate!AU; Muggle!AU; Historical!AU

Summary: The year is 1710. The Duchess is kidnapped by Captain Fred Weasley, the most notorious and blood thirsty pirate of the age. Aboard his ship, The Midnight Rose, love, lust, and longing collide on the high seas.

Rating: Mature

Warnings: angst, fluff, kidnapping, fred is a pirate for god’s sake don’t come for me, kissing, gets a little steamy but no sex, physical illness (not serious), yelling, fred grabs her arm, crying, angry fred, captivity, alludes to trauma, self harm, i didn’t edit this, again he’s a fucking pirate don’t send me hate thanks. 

A/N: Thank you all so much for waiting for me during my little break! I had so much to sort through in my own mind and heart. I am feeling much better and I’m grateful you were all so supportive of me during that time. This chapter is not very long, and serves as more of a ‘filler’ but none the less I hope you all enjoy it. I’m so excited to continue this story <3 I love it so dearly! 

I do not consent for my work to be published or translated anywhere without my permission.

Series Masterlist. 

Taglist: @oh-for-merlins-sake @minty-malfoy @slytherinlovesgryffindor @futureofanthropology @inglourious-imagines @sinz-and-tragediez @acourtofsnakes @vivianweasley @n3ssm0nique @cruciostyles  @whizboingies @shadowsinger11 @whitewineandpizzapuffs @gcdric @the–queen-of-hell @gloryekaterina @hogwartslut @theanxietyqueen17 @vogueweasley @blossomweasley @asthmax @ilovejjmaybank​ @theweasleytwinsgirl @tyyyweasley @feetoffthetablee @thisismynerdyself @wandsandwheezes @loony-loopy-lupinn @missmercurymoon @willowyreads @l-adysansa @arcadianmoonlight @weasley-x-wheezes @lumosandnoxwriting @darthwheezely please message me to be added/removed from my taglist).

______________________

It had been days now since you shared your first kiss with the captain. It was new to you - the way his lips felt when they brushed yours, sending chills down your spine. The feeling of his kisses caused your heart to flutter in your chest. You had allowed Captain Weasley to steal kisses as much as possible, delighting in the way he would come to you just for a few moments of restless kissing. Captain Weasley found solace in the sweet and pure moments you spent with him. You would giggle when his hands found their way to your hips. Your chastity was something newfound for him. It reminded him of the innocence that had long been taken from him.

Fred had taken quickly to doting on you. The crew took notice as well, pretending not to recognize the way he had been going easier on you. His eyes would soften when he saw you, losing their usual shade of darkness.

“Hello, treasure,” He would greet, pulling you away from the eyes of the crew. He would go in for a soft and longing kiss. Your back was often pressed against the damp walls of the ship. Sometimes, his rough hand would wander up to place a thumb on your cheek with the other fingers behind your ear, pulling the kiss deeper than before. You had allowed Fred to play with the soft fabric atop your breasts, but never much more. He savored those touches regardless, due to the way they’d let his mind wander to what it would be like to make love to you.

_________

The days passed by slowly. Eventually, you stopped questioning the Captain about how far you were from home. In fact, you had begun to wish somewhere deep inside of you that maybe he would never return you. The truth of the matter was that Captain Weasley knew exactly where the ship was. He would have been able to get you home in just a few days’ time. But the thought of saying goodbye to you cut him to the quick, and so, he purposely steered the ship in the opposite direction. He felt only a small amount of guilt for deceiving you. After all, the joy and warmth you brought him was a small sacrifice for a lie.

The Captain had even surprised you with a chest of books when you stopped at another port. He had gestured to the chest absentmindedly as he read a map, only glancing up when he heard you gasp. You had torn through the chest, pulling out all of your favorite books. “Oh Captain! You shouldn’t have. Where did you get these?”

“Some poor bastard left his cart unattended. Anyway, you said you were lonely, and that you missed readin’.”

You dropped a copy of Romeo and Juliet as you ran over to him, wrapping your arms around his neck. He dropped his compass, letting you straddle each side of him. You kissed him softly and he leaned back in his seat. Fred moved to plant soft kisses behind your ear, eliciting a soft gasp from you.

“That feels good, eh, Duchess?”

He kissed your sweet spot again, letting the smell of rum fill your senses. You felt an unfamiliar flush rush between your legs and you climbed off him quickly, straightening your dress out with both hands.

“It’s not proper.”

“It isn’t anything to be ashamed of, Duchess.”

“It simply isn’t done, Captain. I’m betrothed.”

“I know.”

He turned away quickly, going back to focusing on what he had been doing before. You looked up at him as you grabbed a book, going to sit comfortably in his hammock. You were chewing your lip, deep into the story, unable to notice the way he looked at you without you noticing.

You turned a page of your book, closing it, before setting it on your lap. You fixed your dress again, cocking your head as you began to spoke. “Why are you being so kind to me, Captain Weasley? Letting me sleep here? Stealing books for me?”

“Pretty to look at,” he said, a small laugh coming from somewhere deep inside of him as he took a swig of rum. His eyes raked over you and you felt your skin flush scarlet, going back to burying your face into the pages of Shakepeare’s Othello.

__________________

You were laying in his bed, listening to the sound of his breathing. He sounded a bit stuffy, if you were honest, and it worried you. When his eyes opened, he let out a small groan, reaching up to place a tattooed hand on his head.

“You sound ill, Captain,” you noted, placing the back of your soft and petite hand on his forehead. “Thank heavens. No fever.”

“I’m not ill,” he grumbled, going to stand up quickly but shortly landing back to sitting on the bed. Fred put his hand on his head again, shutting his eyes tightly as his ears rang and his head pounded. You cooed, crawling over closer to him. You looked over his shoulder as you placed your hand on his bicep.

“Lay back down, please, and let me make you a cup of tea?”

“I’m fine, Duchess…”

Perhaps it was his recent kind gestures, but you were no longer afraid of the Captain like you were before. Fred’s soft side had become more apparent. Sometimes, you even forgot he was your captor, enjoying being in his company. You pouted a bit and he cracked the smallest smile. “Y/n, it is mighty kind that you want to baby me, but I’ll be fine.”

There was a small rap on the door and you blushed, getting out of his bed before any of the crew got wild ideas about what you were doing there in the first place. You busied yourself with straightening up his desk.

“Come in,” Fred said, going to grab his boots but becoming wobbly on his feet. He let out a loud sneeze, shocking even himself. You looked at him, giving him a knowing gaze.

The door opened and Lee Jordan entered, tipping his hat to you. Fred glanced at you, and then back at his first mate.

“Jordan, why don’t you take over my duties for today? I’m not well.”

The Captain had caved and it took everything in you to not rejoice in triumph. Lee looked surprised but nodded. “Yes, Captain.”

“Don’t let this ship go under or I’ll have your skin, Jordan.”

“Yes, Captain.”

“Now, get out.”

You smiled, leaning down to light the fire under Fred’s kettle. You poured him a hot cup of tea, bringing it over to where he was sitting in bed. He coughed a bit, taking a small sip of tea.

“You must have gotten a cold from being damp and freezing.”

Fred had been out in the cold the night before, barking demands at the men as they went through another tempest. He had come back to his cabin soaking wet, shivering from the cool temperatures.

You curled up next to him, placing your head on his shoulder. “Is this alright?”

Captain Weasley hesitated before he spoke again. “...Yes.”

You looked at him, watching his eyes flutter shut slightly. “Tell me your story, Captain.”

“What do you mean? You’re the one with your head in a book.”

Fred closed his eyes. In his mind, he could feel the comfort of his childhood bedroom. As clear as day, he swore he could hear Ginny’s little giggle out in the sitting room. He and George were running around the room, playing with the wooden swords Arthur had carved for them - a special Christmas present. They would play pirates, unbeknownst of the irony in their childhood joys. In the same vision, he saw George’s body again, cold and lifeless on the ground.

He tore his eyes open, staring up at the maroon canopy above him.

“Not a story, Captain, your story.”

“I don’t have a story, Duchess. Please, leave it be.”

“Everyone has a story. Even you.”

You poked his chest playfully, playing with the top button of his shirt.

He reached up, moving your hand off of him. “Stop.”

You sat up, clearly not used to being told ‘no’. Of course, as a Duchess, what you wanted was always given to you. It was a discomfort to be denied something you desired - even something seemingly silly.

“Freddie-”

At the sound of the nickname, Fred felt his entire body tense up. It was the last thing his mother had said when she closed him inside of the wardrobe, never to return to him again. Hearing another person call him that sent fear through his entire being. He was afraid to get close to you because he knew the deep-seated truth that you were only his for a fleeting moment.

The happiness once existent faded from his eyes and he quickly rose from his bed, pulling you out by your arm. He would push you away before you got any closer to him. Fred knew he couldn’t protect his mother from the monsters. But now, he was the phantom, and he was determined to keep you guarded.

“I’m done playing this silly game with you, Duchess.”

“What ever are you talking--”

Fred dragged you toward the door and you could not help but follow behind, trying to keep up as he pulled you. You fought tears, unsure of what you had done to upset him.

He pulled you down the stairs, using his free hand to open up the cell he had been keeping you in originally. “Captain, please, talk to me,” you felt tears filling your own eyes. It was only then, as you looked up, you saw warm tears streaming down his face. His brown eyes looked brighter as they glistened.

He pushed you gently inside of the cell, slamming the door with a loud bang. His hands shook as he turned the key. He couldn’t remember the last time someone saw him cry. He felt embarrassed, but more so, he felt foolish for putting you in danger. Loving you was a losing game and all he wanted to do was keep you safe. He was falling for you faster than he could keep up with. His only defense was to retreat back into his role as a wretched villain in your story.

The only problem was that you had long forgotten him as a sinful pirate. Now, you had become to see him shed his harsh exterior. The light and warmth that emitted from his true self was not something that could be faked, and you knew it. As he stood before you crying, you longed to kiss his lips. You yearned to pull him close and wipe his tears away, using your lips to meet his dripping cheeks with affection.

“Fred, please, I...talk to me.”

Captain Weasley brought his hands up to the bars, slamming on them once more. His rings caused a loud, metallic sound to clang in your ears. “You do not know anything! You spoiled little rich girl! You think you do but you don’t.”

“Teach me,” you begged but he banged on the bars again.

“Be quiet! Jordan will be down with your supper.”

Fred wiped his tears quickly, adjusting his keys back onto his belt. He felt for his dagger, letting his thumb run of it. Just slightly, he let it slice into his skin, relishing in the pain that came soon after. He ignored the sounds of you banging on the bars, calling out to him. You were better off - or so he told himself.

[ilcaeryx]

Cascade [Gojo Satoru/Reader]

Summary: Satoru picks you up after a wild night in Tokyo’s party districts. While he’s dying to be more than your close friend, he won’t act until he’s certain you want him, too.

Tags: Gojo Satoru/Reader, Cute, Fluff, Humor, Slight angst, Nightlife, Pining, Pre-relationship

Word Count: Almost 2k

Author’s Note: Feels good to complete something. I listened to The Rose’s cover of ILYSB while writing this.

---

Gojo Satoru’s 1AM drive to one of Tokyo’s nightlife district was strictly for serious business. While he would fit into the crowd of youthful people enjoying the neon stinging their eyes and body contact with at least four strangers at all times, he had zero intentions on partying. Indeed, his sole mission was to retrieve a package – that package being you.

Lulled into rumination by the car engines constant humming, Satoru pondered about your occupation of his mind. Even though his days were busy, he would associate the concept of you with quite literally anything. Bickering with the higher ups? He could envision himself cranking up the drama as he told you the story, smiling smugly inwards at you cooking him comfort food to soothe ‘his stressful day’. Whenever something hilarious or crazy happened, he would automatically think ‘I’ll tell Y/N this later’. One would expect it would annoy him but it was not the case; Satoru was entertained by his daily fantasies, very much enthralled by the walking-on-clouds-feeling his body would produce during his mental escapades. If one Y/N thought equalled one endorphin molecule, he was experiencing a cascade.

His first thought after awakening every morning was your face between his palms, his fingers frigid against your temples. If things between you two ever developed, one day your face would be his first experience that day, every day for the rest of his life. Right now, Satoru would pin your relationship as close friends. As much as he would overinterpret your behaviour towards him, he was quite certain you were not interested in discovering whatever else could unfold between the two of you. Not yet, his positive inner self protested. Maybe never, his negative inner self retorted.

Despite his conflicting emotions, he gathered himself up into a presentable version of himself while he walked to the nightclub your friend had mentioned. Your safety was his number one priority right now, regardless if you were into him romantically or not.

~~~

“Text me when you’re home!” you yelled over the pulsating music, bidding your friend farewell by blowing her a kiss. In a dramatic motion, she caught the invisible kiss in her palm and clutched it against her chest.

“I will! Stay safe, bitch!” she screeched back before submerging into the human current outside the club, her cursed energy swashing to and fro like a solar flare.

Even though his evening had been a cozy movie-night in his bedroom, Satoru’s limbs felt heavy from looking at you. With your shoulders drooping and hands massaging your left thigh, you were finally punished from dancing non-stop all evening. Indeed, your hair clung to your forehead, neck and upper arms, intermingling with the shining perspiration on your skin. Nevertheless, you seemed to relish in whatever banger was playing inside as you were gently swaying side to side.

“I know what you’re thinking,” you said, pre-emptively shushing him with your index finger in the air. “But I’ll take a shower once I’m home.”

“I was actually thinking that I should’ve brought a towel, considering that your sweat’ll soak the car seat,” he said and tucked some slick strands away from your face. Your mortified look cracked him up. “It’s fine, I’ll lend you my jacket.”

“Your expensive-ass jacket? Thanks, I’d rather freeze to death.”

He rolled back his shoulders as he slid his jacked halfway down his back, hands still in his pockets. A little disappointment tinged his tongue. “Are you sure? I warmed it up just for you.”

“Yeah, stop stripping and let’s get the hell out of here.” You smacked his back with an open hand, pushing him onwards. “God, I can’t wait until we get home. I’m so tired. Are we going to your place?”

Let’s not read into anything, Satoru thought. ‘Anything’ meant both your off-hand comment about his place and the fact that your hand remained steady on his back even after you two joined the crowd. Physical closeness wasn’t anything new between you but the context provided another layer of complexity to read into. Suddenly, being the completely sober adult in charge seemed like too heavy a responsibility for him...

Without meaning to, his back tensed up. “No, you weirdo. You can sleep off the alcohol in your own bed.”

You either weren’t bothered by his tenseness or you didn’t notice, as you shifted your hand around his waist. You carefully leaned against his arm. “Sounds boring. Don’t you want to talk all night?”

Like always, your presence burned his arm, enough that he was unable to feel the strangers he bumped into on his other side. This was a sign, right? Or were you flirting as a friend? In the past, he had people confess their ‘love’ for him and apparently they thought his teasing and touching meant he fancied them. Being extremely lovable wasn’t easy, especially not when any platonic affection could be re-constructed as romantic by the other part. You, too, were extremely lovable and affectionate… Had he been in your shoes, this proximity wouldn’t have had any romantic subtext. But unlike him, you had a good personality… This could be the night you two finally spoke about whatever was between you two.

Or the night where you lose a friend because of your stupidity, his negativity brought up.

It had a point. Yeah, you were a good person and a terrific friend – he’d be an idiot if he lost you. Compared to his co-workers and allies, you were awfully soft; he liked how you doted on him, even when he was a pain in the ass. If you rejected him now, your dynamic wouldn’t be the same and his life would be much harder for it.

“We can talk later today,” he said, his arm automatically shooting out to stop an accidental elbow-right-into-your-chest-accident. He settled his arm around your shoulder after giving the guy the evil guy through his glasses. Watch your limbs, man.!

“That was close,” you said, sighing. “Thank you, Satoru! I’m sorry about having to call you out this late, by the way. Did I wake up you?”

He both cursed and rejoiced on the inside now that you changed subject. “Couldn’t be helped that your friend had an emergency. Next time, try to wake me up later for an early breakfast instead.”

“Next time, you’re coming with us.”

His lips faltered slightly, smile not feeling as genuine. He adjusted the collar on his jacket to hide it. “To the nightclub?”

Your index finger jabbed into his side accusingly. “Anywhere! Last time we hung out was… uh…”

This was the first time in a few weeks you two had spoken in person by yourselves. As you both mostly met together with your friends, you tended to invite him whenever the gang planned something. He admitted to himself that he often declined because he only wanted your company, but you never offered to join him instead. Whenever he invited you out, you’d be perfectly alright with hanging out just the two of you, though.

“Two weeks ago?” He squinted into the lights of an incoming car. “It’s because of work but-“

“I’m not a hikikomori, you bastard – I’ve got a job too, but I’ll make time for you, you know?”

You’d make time for anyone, Satoru thought, somewhat discouraged.

The crowd thinned out as you entered the parking lot, though the place was jam-packed with cars. Both of you remained quiet as you passed by couples on the way to Satoru’s car. When you detached yourself from his side, he rustled your hair. You stood on your tippy-toes to return the favour, messing up his hair worse than he did yours. He liked seeing you struggle to reach his head, so he didn’t mind.

“I missed you, scarecrow,” you said, pinching his cheek. He elongated his smile to feel one knuckle touch his lips. “What is the gremlin and scarecrow duo without the scarecrow?”

~~~

Slumped against the window, you were peaceful the entire ride home. Every so often, Satoru would catch a glimpse of your sleepy face and his heart would clam up. He made the right decision in picking you up, even though he aged weeks in those twenty minutes you two had spoken. Your interactions followed a pattern: he’d look forward to meeting you, creating fantasies and expectations of what could be; when you were with him, he would attempt not to ruin your current friendship to the point where he’d feel sick; and whenever you two parted, he’d overindulge in his memories. In two days, he’d be prepared to undergo this rollercoaster once again.

He drove into your street and called your name.

You immediately woke up and looked outside. “What time is it?”

“Almost 2AM…” he exhaled deeply, hands falling into his lap. He still had to drive home, so he’d be in bed in 30 minutes.

“Everything hurts,” you said, bending forward to readjust your high heels. “My legs are killing me… I won’t be able to walk tomorrow. I’m not sure I can walk now.”

He understood what the lilting tone at the end of your sentence meant and with great effort he stepped out of the car. Your giddiness as he opened the car-door on your side was intoxicating, as was the feeling of seeing you stretch your arms towards his neck. He cradled one arm below your thighs and one behind your back.

“Watch your head,” you chided softly into his ear, covering the top of his head as he carried you out of the car.

“Gimme keys.” Satoru leaned slightly backwards to account for your weight as you handed him the key to your apartment. With your bare arms against his neck, he would be surprised if you didn’t notice how his pulse rose.

Your apartment door opened and he stepped into darkness, shutting it behind his back.

“Excuse me,” he mumbled, heading for your bedroom with his shoes on. Your teeny apartment had a teeny bedroom with a single sized bed.

“Say, Satoru,” you said, your cheek pressed below his ear, “are you sure you don’t want to stay and talk?”

“Just go to sleep, Y/N.” Satoru leaned over your bed to carefully lay you down. Your grip on his neck loosened and he thought you’d comply until you kissed his neck, his soul almost as soft as your lips.

“What about now?” you asked and released your arms, falling onto your bed. Your hair spilled around you, a gloria around your tired face. “I’ll let you sleep in my bed, if you want to.”

Honestly, he wanted this. Everything he’d thought of earlier this night could become true if he gave in, which was insane enough to send his head swimming. He’d endure this cramped bed for you, even with his feet being colder than hell and his back aching from sleeping on his side. Gojo Satoru was more than ready.

However, he did not want this to backfire. What if you were simply too horny, lonely, exhausted or intoxicated to consider the consequences right now?

You rolled towards the wall, leaning on your side. Your eyelids fluttered weakly, your exhaustion almost overtaking your body and yet you found enough strength to pat the empty space beside you. “See, there’s space. I’ll always leave space for you.”

Ah, fuck it.

Satoru’s personality was bad; his attitude was self-indulgent; his morality was concrete grey; and his discipline when it came to you near non-existent. If you awoke tomorrow and found that you had fallen asleep with the love of your life – then great, you were both on the same page. If he had completely misunderstood your intentions, he would absolutely bullshit his way out of trouble, like he always did. Whatever, everything’d be alright someday.

---

If you enjoyed this, give me a like/follow/reblog/comment/scream into the void. I hope everyone had a good New Year and let’s hope that 2021 is kind.

Started this 22/11/2020, finished 10/01/2021.

[whittakerjodie]

Stardust (13th Doctor X Reader)

Request: 13th doctor x reader where the reader is super insecure about their body and the doctor proves to her how much she loves her?

A/N:  I kept descriptions of bodies as loose as possible, that way everyone can see themselves in this fic and most importantly can see themselves for what they are: beautiful, and crafted from stardust.

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: Insecurity of body image, etc. 

The TARDIS wardrobe room was a blessing. Nearly any piece of clothing in the known universe was featured throughout its infinite halls, the shelves and racks switching out once you were done with them. Today, the features of the wardrobe were being stretched to it’s impossible limit. You simply couldn’t find something to wear.

Recently, you've been having that trouble a lot. No style seemed fit for you and the inbetweens weren’t working, either. Deep down, you knew it wasn’t as simple as a style change. The issue, to you, wasn’t the clothes. It was the body they were being placed on.

“Almost ready?” The Doctor’s cheery voice yelled through the walls. You jumped, dropping the large, puffy coat you’d been considering as a last resort. She was already through the doors, eyes moving across the massive piles of discarded clothes. You’d asked the TARDIS not to get rid of them, in case you wanted to dig through them for any second thoughts. But now, you supposed, it looked suspicious.

Even more damning was the tears of frustration pooling in the corners of your eyes. In the midst of your madness, you weren’t ever aware of their existence. Now that you were, you wanted nothing but to quickly brush them away so they could be absorbed by the skin you felt so wrong in. The Doctor noticed them, frowning. “Something wrong?”

“No,” You tried, but the lie was embarrassingly obvious. The Doctor frowned and stepped closer to you, hands outstretched. You obliged her, placing your hands in her palms. “Would you take a ‘nothing major’? “

The Doctor squeezed your hands comfortingly. “Only it really was, or if you didn’t think you could tell me. “

You sighed, then, not wanting to disappoint or alienate the Doctor from what was starting to have a large impact on your life. “Alright, Doctor… I’ll talk”

“Sounds like i’m interrogating you,” The Doctor chuckled lightly. She led you to one of the benches available in the wardrobe, so that you could both sit down and discuss things in a more comfortable setting. It helped to stabilize your physical form, which leveled your mental playing field too.

“I’m not entirely sure how to explain it,” You felt it was a fitting start. “It’s something very personal, detailed.”

“Just start with how you feel here, now. Then branch out from it, if you can.”

“I feel wrong.” You said shakily. “Like something isn’t right- like I’m not right. Not this body, at least. Every time I look in the mirror or try to get dressed … and I’m not sure how to move on from it.”

The Doctor’s eyes softened and her eyes examined your hands, which were beginning to pull away. You wrapped your arms around your chest, sighing. Telling another person had supplied just a little bit more weight against the doors trapping you inside yourself. You felt the need to reassure her, make sure she knew that you weren’t weak despite it all.

“Now, I know it’s probably nothing-”

“It’s not nothing” The Doctor countered instantaneously. She glanced back at the piles of clothes strewn throughout the room and stood. “Will you let me show you something?”

You accepted her invitation and rose from your seat, hating the shift of gravity that pulled you further back into your body. The Doctor walked towards the mirror on the other side of the wardrobe room. Your eyebrows raised in confusion. When you had been using the mirror, it was much smaller, barely showcasing your entire upper body. Perhaps it was a reflection of what little parts of yourself you wanted to see. Now, the mirror was massive. It was an ornate structure, circular gallifreyan masterfully carved into the hazel wood frame. In the center, you saw yourself, carefully approaching. The Doctor was waiting for you to join her by her side. When you did, she slowly stepped behind you. Her chest pressed against your back, her hands rested on your shoulders. The only way you could look at her familiar features was to first acknowledge yourself in full.

“Look in the mirror, Y/n,” She whispered. “Look at what I see for a moment.”

You swallowed harshly and brought your eyes to meet themselves in the reflection.

“There are a million theories throughout the universe about how we all come to be. I’ll tell them all to you someday, if you like. But for now I’d like to focus on another theory you’ll be more familiar with.”

“Hm?” You inquired. Looking at yourself, still wearing one of the many outfits you simply had to settle for, you couldn’t help but wish she would hurry.

“The conservation of mass. Nothing in this universe is created or destroyed, simply transformed. Do  you know what that means?” You shrugged, knowing what the law was but not knowing how the Doctor was going to relate it back to the situation at hand. You were sure she could find a way, though, knowing her. She certainly lived up to the expectation.

“If no matter or mass is created and destroyed, that means it's all been travelling and changing throughout time. Waiting for the next object or person's turn so that it can  explore another way of being. One day, your turn came. The universe’s particles collided and rejoiced in such a specific, perfect way- that you came to be.”

You let out a breath, relieved of some weight. The Doctor's hands moved from your shoulders to your face, fingers lightly caressing your cheeks. Then, into your hair, to softly comb. And next to  your back, and around your middle so she could squeeze lightly.

“When I look in that mirror- when I look at you, I see that perfection. I hope that you can see it, too. “

A tear fell down your face and the Doctor caught it, holding her wet finger out in front of you. “Look at the way your tears catch the light. That’s probably starlight. Somehow it found its way to you. Surely it comes from the galaxy that formed your eyes, or-”

You turned around quickly and wrapped your arms around the Doctor, holding her tightly to you. She kissed your cheek, then pulled your head to a position where you faced her. “I love you. All of you. Every molecule. Will you share those feelings?”

You laughed at her awkward words, wiping the small trail of tears from your cheek. “Yes, Doctor, I will. Thank you.”

[astarryon]

Promise Me

Ten Minutes and Two Centimeters

Warnings: Arguing, anger, light language

Chapter Summary: Spencer’s been given one more chance to make himself clear. He’s determined not to waste it.

Masterlist

Chapter Four: I Want to Take It With Me

He’s always hated hospitals.

When people ask, he tells them it has to do with trivial attributes. The lights are too bright, there are far too many germs milling about, the mass amount of crying people make him uncomfortable. And while those are all true, while he really doesn’t care for those aspects of hospitals at all, Spencer knows in his heart that it’s less to do with any of that and more to do with what hospitals symbolize for him.

People leave. It’s something he’s learned at much too early an age, yet is also something he’s still learning to cope with. His father left when he was a boy, with little more than a scrap of paper by way of explanation. His mother had gone away to the sanitarium when he was eighteen, and though he’d been the one to send her there, he’d still felt the loss. Gideon left. JJ left. Emily faked her death.

People leave.

It’s true. And with as many people who have left him over the years, Spencer figured he’d be used to it by now. But then he’d held you in his arms, cradled you as your blood slowly crept its way out of your body and onto the floor, and he’d suddenly realized that he wasn’t quite as acclimated to loss as he’d initially thought. He knows this, because when the doctor comes to alert him to the fact that you’re conscious and asking for him, it’s all he can do to keep himself from bolting upright and running straight to your room.

He does walk at a quick enough pace to earn him a dirty look from a passing nurse. Any other day, he’d make the fort to slow down and apologize. But today isn’t any other day, and he doesn’t slow his steps until he’s made it to your door and sees, with his own eyes, that you’re sitting up and smiling.

“There you are,” you giggle, beaming up at him with wide, excited eyes, and the look you give him is so reminiscent of the one on your face from last Valentine’s Day that he’s left breathless. “It’s rude to keep a girl waiting you know.”

And he wants to do witty. Really, he does, because he knows it’ll leave your face with a smile larger than life, and considering he wasn’t sure he’d ever get to see that smile again up until two hours ago when the doctors notified him you’d made it through surgery, it’s all he wants. But there’s too much going on in his head, too many dark almosts and what-ifs to be properly ignored for the sake of rejoicing. This is a happy moment — and, really, he’s bursting with joy at the sight of your open eyes — but it’s not something he can display outwardly just yet. He’s too... there are too many things that need to be said before any of that takes place.

His silence confuses you, made evident by the confused glint in your eye that’s just beginning to overshadow your wide grin. “Spence?” you prompt, tilting your head to the side. The machine you’re hooked up to beeps with the spike in your heart rate, and he has to go out of his way not to tease you for it. “Did you hear me?”

Your tone shifts, and he hears the worry in your voice just as he takes note of how it begins to curl your mouth into a frown. “Spencer,” you try again, quietly pleading. He hates himself for what he’s doing, but he can’t seem to stop himself from allowing the events he’s set in motion to play out. “Spencer, what’s wrong?”

He has to say it. Before anything else, he has to say it.

Spencer swallows hard against the lump in his throat. Liquid hellfire burns his eyes in the form of unshed tears. “Do you know,” he chokes out, “how incredibly unlucky a person has to be to get hit with a shot like that? Actually shot? You were wearing a vest. The bullet hit you a centimeter too high. One centimeter lower and we would’ve walked out of there in the next thirty seconds. Two centimeters higher and you’d have—“ He cuts himself off, the horrid taste of potentials staining his tongue uninvited. He doesn’t even want to say it, doesn’t want to give power to what could have happened to you tonight. To what almost happened to you tonight.

“Spencer,” you whisper, reaching for his hand, but he snatches it out of reach before you can make contact.

“No,” he insists, wringing his hands together. He has to keep them preoccupied. His body seems steadfastly determined to betray his mind, and much as he wants to, he can’t let that happen. There are certain things he needs to get off his chest, say out loud, before he can even think about letting himself give into you. It’s the only way to make sure. It kills him, but it’s the only way. “You don’t understand, I almost… I could’ve lost you tonight. You were ten minutes and two centimeters away from dying in my arms.”

“But I didn’t,” you counter, and he knows. He sees the furrow of your brow, the stubborn set to your delicate jaw, and he knows you’re about to throw it all right back at him. “I’m still here, Spencer, you still have me.”

“Because of chance!” He doesn’t realize he’s shouting until he see you flinch, but he can’t stop, can’t back down. “You’re still alive because of dumb luck! Dumb, stupid luck, that very easily could’ve gone the other way!”

“But it didn’t,” you shoot back, and Spencer has to kill the urge to scoff. As if that’s an excuse.

“It could have.”

“Yeah, but it didn’t!”

“It could have!”

“Why are you yelling at me?”

“Because you gave up!” Spencer roars, tears pricking like thorns at the corners of his eyes. “You gave up, and the worst part about it is that you expected me to just be okay with it! Don’t—“ He flings a hand through the air to silence you as soon as your mouth opens. He’s seething, shaking, boiling with rage. He has to get it all out, and he has to do it now, or he risks poisoning any chance of your future together with unspoken resentment. “You started talking about yourself like you were already dead! Started making me promise that I wasn’t going to let losing you stop making me smile! Do you even— do you know how ridiculous that is? How unfair? You were bleeding out in my arms, and you were worried about my fucking smile? I was two centimeters away from having to bury you six feet underground, and you were worried about my smile? My smile should’ve been the last thing on your mind!”

He expects you to yell back at him. It’s only fair, after all, and he wouldn’t fault you for taking cheap shots at him the way he’s taking cheap shots at you. In some sick, twisted way, he almost wants you to, if only to find some confirmation that he isn’t alone in feeling the severity of this situation so deeply. Doesn’t it effect you? Doesn’t the fact that the rest of your life was nearly stolen away right out from under you bother you? Aren’t you seething over the fact that the rest of your forever was nearly cut short?

If you are, you make no show of it. You don’t raise your voice, you don’t curse, you don’t take it out on him the way he’s taking it out on you. You only blink, analytical appraisal clear as day in your tired eyes, and not for the first time since you’d come into his life, Spencer is left to marvel over how much better a person you are than he is. He could never say something like that out loud — thinking you’d ever let him get away with it is, in a word, naive — he knows the truth, even if the chances of you admitting to it are nonexistent.

You prove him right when you reach forward slowly, keeping eye contact and making sure you have permission, before resting your hand against the mangled mess of his own. “Spencer,” you murmur, searching his face. For what, he’s not entirely sure, but you must find it judging by the degree of which your eyes soften. “What is this about?”

“I told you,” he tries, knowing all too well that he doesn’t sound convincing in the slightest. You see him much too clearly — he should have known better than to think he could hide what was truly bothering him from you. “You almost died in my arms, I... it was too much to handle.”

“No, Spence,” you tell him, the embodiment of patience. “I mean what’s this about, really?” You make it clear that you aren’t leaving any room for protests this time around.

So Spencer decides to tell the truth.

“You almost died,” he whispers, shaking his head. “And I realized if you had, you’d never...”He can’t bring himself to tear his eyes away from the floor, to look up at you and memorize every inch of your face a million times over like he wants to. The way he’s acting, he’s not particularly sure he deserves the luxury. “You’d have never known. I never told you.”

“Never known what?” you ask gently, blinking in pursuit of understanding. “Never told me what?”

“That I love you,” Spencer breathes, gripping your hands so tightly he can feel your pulse through your fingers. “I love you so much I can barely fucking breathe sometimes. I love when you laugh about things that only you think are funny because no one else understands the joke. I love the way you can’t seem to sit still for more than fifteen seconds at a time because there’s so much on your mind and not enough time in the world to get it all out. I love the way you let me talk your ear off about things you’ve never heard of and don’t care about, even though I’m sure I must bore you out of your mind sometimes. I love— I love your smile! You always tell me I have a beautiful smile, but the truth is it doesn’t hold a candle to yours, and I— I don’t understand how you don’t see that! I love you, do you hear me? From the very bottom of my heart, I love you so fucking much. I love you.”

For a moment, you fall silent, and the only sound traded between the two of you is the steady beat coming from your heart monitor, incredibly consistent considering all the yelling. But then a chuckle falls from your mouth. Spencer is so shocked that at first he thinks it’s an odd sounding cough, but then it happens again, and then again, and he’s able to piece together what’s happening with the addition of the succession.

“Spencer,” you wheeze, clutching at your chest. He hopes you aren’t in pain. His ears are turning red with embarrassment and he can’t believe you’re laughing at him at a time like this, but he really hopes you aren’t hurting. “You don’t think I know that already?”

He blinks, mind shorting out. “Well, I— I never told you.”

“You never had to,” you go on, the widest grin he’s ever seen your mouth make splitting your face from ear to ear. Spencer doesn’t think he can remember a time when you’ve ever looked so positively delighted. “Spencer, I wouldn’t have... we wouldn’t have gotten this far if I didn’t think you loved me. I wouldn’t have let it.”

You knew. You’d known this whole time. All this time — all those nights tangled in his bedsheets with your arm secured around his waist, all those good morning texts and flirtatious jabs at the office, wondering when everyone else was going to catch on to your little game. All those sweet kisses and affectionate embraces and evening walks beneath the starlit sky. All those different ways he’d tried to silently convey it, and you’d been picking up on his meaning the whole time.

Had he known... had he known that you’d known...

“I’m sorry,” Spencer whispers. It’s all he can think to say.

“You don’t need to be,” you tell him with a resolute shake of your head. Of course; you’re the most gracious person he knows, after all. Not even getting yelled at immediately after waking up from emergency surgery could change that. “Just... I know you’ve already made me so many promises tonight. I know that. But will you promise me one more thing?”

“Anything,” he tells you, and he means it with his entire being, body and soul.

“Just... trust that I know,” you murmur, gazing at him with more sincerity than any one person has ever shown him before. “In the way that you know that I love you, trust that I know that you love me. Okay?”

“Okay,” he murmurs, nodding his head. “Okay. I promise.”

You reach for his hands, still tightly clasped in front of him, and this time when your fingers brush his knuckles, he frees one and lets you take it to hold. “I love you, Spencer Reid.”

And for the first time after hearing you speak those words, Spencer isn’t given pause.

“I love you too,” he tells you adamantly.

... And he does.

—

[i-make-questionable-choices]

When the Hurt Comes, So Does the Happiness.

Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: Torture, SPN level gore, mentions of rape/non-con, mentions of forced bestiality(nothing graphic), angst.

Summary: When Alastair disappeared after Anna’s death, he took you with him, holding you simply to torture the Winchesters. With the knowledge that angels are tracking him down, he sets out to hurt you as much as he can.

A/N: This kinda replaces the end of 04x15. Also my first work so please please please let me know how I did or anything else. Feedback is golden!

When Dean came back to life after 40 years in the pit, he had had trouble believing he was, in fact, alive. Paranoia followed him from hell, and it took a while for him to realize that his resurrection was not some cruel joke. It had taken some time, but slowly, he had accepted that this was real. That you were real.

But now you were gone. Plucked from his grasp like a child plucks a flower from the earth. It made Dean wonder if he ever left Hell.

—

Alastair hummed softly, relishing in the cries of his latest victim. It had been surprisingly easy to take his best student little pet away from him, and, though he was no where near either of the Winchesters, the knowledge that they would be driving themselves into the ground looking for you almost had him singing.

He hadn’t felt such exhilaration during a torture session as he was feeling since the righteous man had fallen onto his rack. And while he couldn’t use some of his preferred techniques, considering he wanted you alive, the knowledge that Dean was suffering at your mere absence was delicious.

Carefully selecting a pair cuticle nippers from his cart of tools, he turned with a flourish, grin falling as he realized you were unconscious. You were no fun unconscious, after all, he liked your screams.

With an aggrieved sigh, he dropped the nippers back on the table and, begrudgingly, snatched up a heavy leather collar. He sulked over to the rack where you lay unconscious and cinched it around your neck, far too tight for it to be comfortable, then stormed out of the room

—

When you flickered back into consciousness, all you could do was try and breath.

The still air chilled your bare skin, raising goosebumps along the paled flesh. The leather around your neck, though suffocatingly tight, was eerily comforting, and though it confused you, you lent into it. You needed all the comfort could could get.

Despite the freezing air and the chills that ran along your skin, the outside of your left thigh burned with a vengeance. Tears welled in your eyes as you recalled the moments before you fell unconscious.

The pain from the brand had cast all other thoughts from your mind when Alastair had seared what he called a ‘permanent reminder’ of himself into your skin.

It was all too much, the cold, the pain, your hunger, and the confusing comfort of the collar. You didn’t see it coming, but you barely had seconds before you passed out once more.

—

Alastair waking you up by pouring water on you wasn’t unusual, as a matter of fact, it seemed to be his preferred method. But each and every time the water had been icy.

This time, it was boiling.

You screamed as it awoke you, drowning out Alastair’s cruel laugh as you gasped and sobbed. Your body spasming against its restraints, desperately trying to evade the pain.

“Good morning, pet,” the sickly sweet tone of his voice sent shivers up your spine, “did you enjoy your bath?”

A slight pull choked you for a moment as Alastair undid the buckle before the collar disappeared.

“You fell asleep on me last night, quiet rude don’t you think?” He grinned as tears streamed down your face, tinting pink as they washed away bits of dried blood. “No matter, we have plenty of time for just us today!”

A flash a metal caught in the cold light as Alastair brandished the cuticle nippers once more.

Slowly, delicately, he lowered them to your face, tracing your features just as Dean used to in the wee hours of the morning. If Alastair knew this, he would rejoice knowing that the seat gesture was now ruined by his doing.

He reached your lips, then without warning, split your upper lip in half.

Your wail was music to his ears, the fading sound leaving him yearning for more. He forced you to count threatening you with harsh punishment should you refuse.

By the time they got to one-hundred, your body was shaking with sobs, voice cracking. To add insult to injury, your stomach, having gone four days now with out food, rumbled and groaned.

Humiliation flooded through you, your cheeks burning.

Through tears you spared a glance at your torturer,  furrowed brow widened as you perceived the look of sadistic joy upon his face.

“Pet!” He cried, the same way a mother or parental figure does when you do something unexpected. "You should have told me you were so hungry!”

He released the nippers, letting them clatter to the ground.

“I wasn’t going to feed you just yet but I suppose we could switch things around a bit…” The strap across your forehead prevented you from turning your head completely, but your heart dropped into your stomach when you saw the contraption Alastair selected; a long tube, open on one end with a funnel connected to the other.

In a desperate attempt at self preservation, you clamped your lips tight, ignoring the burning pain that spread across your face at the pressure on your cut lip. Alastair snorted, the corners of his smirk curling up further.

“Very well then, if you insist on being difficult…”

You cried out as he shoved the tube up your nose. It wasn’t a large tube, but good god was it to big for such a small space. You could feel it scraping away at the inside of your nose, could feel the blood trickle down to your mouth.

There was barely a warning before it entered your throat; a slight tickle at the top of your mouth, perhaps.

You coughed and gagged as he slipped it down you throat further, eyes leaking tears like a faucet.

Finally, after what felt like ages, the tube stopped moving. Sniffling, you sobbed, not bothering to muffle the sounds of crying.

“Bonne appétit, kitten.”

You couldn’t see what he poured into the funnel, part of you didn’t want to anyways. Your muscles tensed in anticipation, waiting for whatever pain you would feel next. You did not expect to feel a tickle in your chest before your body spasmed into a coughing fit.

“Whoopsie!”

Alastair’s voice sent shivers up your spine. “Wrong way. I’m so sorry, kitten, how careless of me.”

Pulling it back out was just as bad as him pushing it in, it was unnatural and you so longed to claw at your neck.

It took him a moment to actually get the tube into your esophagus, but with a sharp jab and a feel around your neck, he was pretty sure it was in the right place now.

He was halfway through, ignoring your gags in an effort to repeal the foreign device, when his head shot up, eyes gazing towards the door, before a smirk adorned his mug.

“Well, pet, it seems that we have a guest,” he reached for the collar, tightening it more than he ever had before. “You’ll be a good girl while I go and greet them, won’t you?”

With a slight bow, he disappeared from your vision, exiting somewhere behind you and slamming a door you couldn’t see. The only sounds now audible were your gags as your body fought to expel the tube from its system.

Tilted onto your back, it was excruciatingly hard for you to vomit up the tube and you needed up spewing several mouthfuls of bile onto yourself before you could spit it out.

With Alastair gone, you began to process your situation.

Naked, shorn, and weak, covered in cuts and burns and bruises, sticky with blood and bile and the filth of the dogs Alistair had set on you. Helpless. Alone. Collared, branded, and chained like an animal. For the first time in these two weeks, it hit you just how pathetic you were was.

It was the straw that broke the camels back. The loneliness. The time to think. With a shuddering gasp, you descended into tears

—

Dean sprinted through the halls of the warehouse. Slamming his hands into every door, yelling out your name. The desperation raw in his voice.

He reached the end of the hall and tried the door; locked.

At first, he backed up, trying with all his might to kick it down, and then to bodyslam it open. When his body couldn’t take it anymore, he grabbed his gun.

Aiming it at the glass square in the door, he fired several times until he had a hole large enough to reach through.

Shards of glass still clinging to the door frame pierced his jacket at sliced his skin, he didn’t care, he had to check everywhere.

It was an awkward angle, and Dean could barely reach it, but he managed to twist the knob on the inside until the door swung open; revealing the carnage inside.

—

It took the Dean a moment to register that the form on the table was indeed the women he was looking for. No longer did you sport your gorgeous H/C locks, the hair barely dotting your shaved scalp as it began growing back. Your skin was so stained and burned and bruised it didn’t look human.  

Hesitantly, as if approaching a frightened rabbit, Dean paced forwards.

“Y/N?” His voice as hesitant as his steps.

Your eyes flew open, fearful as a rabbit chased by dogs. The relief that flooded them as soon as you realized who it was was immediate.

“de-an?” Your voice choppy and hoarse.

“Hey there, sweetheart.” Dean struggled to blink back tears.

“s-sammy?”

“He’s okay, I’m gonna get you outta here, okay sweetheart?”
 You hummed, eyes half closed as your head lolled to the side, a couple tears cutting through the grime on your cheeks and nose.

Silence hung between them as Dean fiddled with straps around your wrists, slick blood and bile. The straps had been locked so tightly that they had rubbed the skin raw and left it paled as blood smuggled to fill back in.

As the moved to your ankles he grimaced, noticing the sticky white mess that dripped down your inner thighs.

You didn’t make a sound as he adjusted your prone figure to sit forwards, letting you lean against his shoulder as he fiddled with the too tight buckle around your neck. He didn’t care about the vomit that dribbled down your chin, staining his shirt, nor did he care about the blood that seeped into his clothes.

His only focus was you.

The collar fell away from your neck leaving behind rubs and bruised skin. Dean had expected the removal of the collar to calm you, not for your breathing to speed up ten-fold, nor to be able to feel your heart pound against his chest.

“no.” It was barely a whisper, a hint of a word, but Dean stilled, pulling back as he gripped your shaking shoulders. His mind was scrambling for answers, what had Alastair done to you? Why were you wearing t-

Oh.

He pulled you tight against his chest once more, murmuring reassurances in your ear as he hid his own tears from view.

His rage burned as he recalled his time apprenticing under Alastair; the time that monster had shown him one of his more ‘refined’ techniques.

Conditioning.

Training the victims mind into associating the removal of a collar or chains or the opening of their cage with extreme pain. It was a technique so ruthless that Dean had never been able to bring himself to do it.

Not even at his worst.

It took Dean a moment, but, as he desperately tried to banish those horrid memories from his mind, he shrugged off his jacket. Gently as he could, he draped the fabric over your shoulders and carefully guided each arm through the sleeves.

It was a bit too big, your fingers still hiding in the sleeves, but it gave you a shred of modesty and you clutched at him tighter.

When his arm wormed its way under your knees, you stifled your whimper as best you could but you could not conceal the tiniest of squeaks that escaped your cracked lips.

Deans eyes filled with pity, mouth parting to apologize but you beat him to it.

“P-please, just get me out of here.”

He hesitated a moment then steeled himself and nodded, his other arm supporting your lower back.

“Sorry about this sweetheart.”

You gasped softly as some of your injuries rubbed against his shirt and fresh tears sprang in your eyes. As he lifted you closer to his chest, you brought your trembling arms up around his neck, leaning your chin over his shoulder.

The beat of his steps both jarred your injuries and provided comforting sounds, lulling you into a more restful state. You would have fallen asleep had Dean not stepped outside moments later.

The air was crisp, slight breezing chilling you to the bone. Shivering, you burrowed deeper into Deans arms and he tightened his hold on you. As he carried you away from the hellhole in which you had been trapped, the sky came into view. And with the sky, came the stars.

They twinkled, blurring in you teary eyes and you took in a long, deep breath of fresh air.

You couldn’t help yourself; sobs wracked your body as it truly set in that you were finally free. Free from Alastair and his pain. Free from his torture. Free.

Dean didn’t say a word. He knew exactly the emotions that were coursing through you. When he had first come back, he had been hesitant and as wary as a rabbit. Not daring for ages to believe that his resurrection was not some cruel joke.

As he reached the Impala. He had to shift his hold on you to reach the passengers side handle and even then he had difficulty opening the door, but he managed. Not daring to set you down and the unforgivingly cold concrete.

Slowly ducking his head, he lowered you onto your back onto the cool leather seat of the Impala. He made to pull away but your arms tightened around his neck, terrified of losing him.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay sweetheart, I’m just gonna grab you a blanket, okay? I’m not going anywhere, okay?” He took time to check that everything he did was okay with you, letting you know everything so as not to leave you dreading something he would do, even if he knew he wasn’t going to hurt you. Gently he took ahold of your forearms, clutching them between fingertips, and lowered them to your chest. Pulling away quickly, he opened the door to the backseat, reaching up onto the rear dash to grab one of the thick blankets they kept there. He shut the door as quietly as he could, but that didn’t stop you from reflexively tensing at the abrupt noise. Though Dean noticed, he said nothing, it wouldn’t help you right now anyways.

Carefully, he worked the blanket underneath you, then laid you back down on the leather, wrapping you up nice and tight. He ducked back, about to shut the door when the rustling of feathers sounded behind him, alarming the both of you.

Quiet as a cat, in all his trench-coated glory, was Castiel. His eye were stoic and matched Deans fiery gaze.

“What do you want now?” Dean snarled, turning completely and shielding you from the angels view.

For a moment, Castiel was silent, eyes dropping to stare at the road beneath him before he returned his gaze to Dean, stepping forwards.

“This hasn’t been easy for you.”

“Yeah no shit! What the hell do you want?”

“I’m here to help.” He nodded at you.

“Why the fuck would you do that. You’ve done nothing for us since you pulled me outta hell!” Deans voice was low and angry, yet cautiously quiet.

Behind him, you shivered as the night air crept in through the open door.

Castiel said nothing, lifting his chin to regard Dean. The look he sported was not judgmental, but perhaps slightly inquisitive. And not the type of inquisitivity that came alongside confusion, no he knew everything he wanted and needed to, but instead a type of inquisitivity that prompted Dean to stop and think.

For a few tense moments, only the stars dared to move, it seemed even the air around the angel and the hunter stilled. Then, slowly, cautiously, Dean stepped back.

“Fine, but hurry the hell up!”

Periwinkle eyes softened, a look of compassion that one might expect when they thought of an angel, and he leant over you.

At first you shrunk away, not willing to be near anyone other than Dean, but you had to trust Dean, trust that he wouldn’t let anyone he didn’t mildly trust near you.

Eyes glowing blue, Castiel pressed but two fingers to your forehead. The tenseness in your shoulders seemed to relax and the frown upon your lips softened. A wave of warmth, like a loving hug, washed through you, chasing away the pain Though the bloodstains and other substances soiling your skin remained, the physical damage was slowly washed away.

He stepped back, allowing Dean to approach you and examine his work. Though Dean still had his back to him, Castiel gave one last thoughtful comment.

“We’re not all so stuck-up, if you give us a chance.”

Dean had barely started to turn before Castiels wings rustled once more and he disappeared into nothingness.  

He stared long and hard at the spot where the angel had once stood, the let his gaze wander upwards. Overhead, a patch of cloud was slowly pushed across the sky, and the moon glowed brightly. She smiled down at the hunter as he gazed at her in return.

Dean lowered his gaze.

He stood there for only a moment longer then turned, shutting the passengers door behind him and walking across the front of the car. He pulled the door open and plopped down in the drivers seat, exhausted.

He hadn’t expected it, but a soft smile graced his features as you scooted closer to him, wresting your head against his thigh.

Starting the car he pulled out from the curb, placing one hand on your head. You murmured then nuzzled into the touch.’

It would take weeks, maybe even months, but, as he sped away from Alastair’s hellhole Dean knew you would be okay.

Both of you, would be okay.