#or blood for that matter lol. just let me know if y’all need anything tagged at all !!

[lavellander]

a couple des doodles as i try to practice drawing different ages 🫠

[lunarbuck]

I Know (You Promised Pt. 3)

~ people change, people grow ~

pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!reader (any race)

WC: 3.6k

Warnings: angst with a hopeful ending, swearing, description of injuries

A/N: This is part three of You Promised :) y’all i hate doing the whole injured reader thing but i couldn’t think of anything else lol also i apologize if the hospital protocol is incorrect, i’m going solely off of the one time i was in the hospital haha please let me know what you think!! <3

Part 1: You promised Part 2: I Tried

series masterlist | main masterlist | one shot masterlist

His phone rings, and Bucky feels around on his bed for the offending object. When he checks the caller ID, he doesn’t recognize the number, but he knows to answer, better to be safe than sorry.

“This is Bucky,” he says, voice still a little gruff from just waking up.

“Hello, Mr. Barnes. My name is Sierra, and I’m calling from St. Mary’s Hospital. You are listed as the emergency contact for–” Bucky’s brain catches up to what he’s hearing, and before he can stop himself, he cuts off the woman on the other line.

“What happened?” He shoots out of bed and quickly pulls on a pair of pants while carefully balancing his phone between his cheek and shoulder. His thoughts race; what happened to you?

“I cannot discuss the details with you over the phone, Sir. I need you to come in as soon as possible.” Bucky scrambles to put his shoes on, tripping over himself as he makes his way to the front door.

“Is she okay?” Sierra takes a moment to respond, and Bucky resists the urge to ask again.

“As I said, Mr. Barnes, I cannot discuss the details over the phone. The doctor will fill you in when you arrive. When do you think you’ll be available to come by?” Bucky slams the door behind him and stomps down the stairs, he doesn’t live too far from St. Mary’s, but it’s too far to walk. He’ll have to get a car.

“I’m on my way.”

When Bucky walks through the doors of the hospital, he’s hit with the smell of rubbing alcohol and cleaning chemicals. He hates hospitals, and he hates doctors. He walks up to the front desk and shoves his gloved hands into his pockets.

“Uh, I got a call about needing to come in,” he says apprehensively to the woman behind the desk. The medical mask she wears covers most of her face but judging by the crinkles in the corners of her eyes she smiles a lot. Her name tag reads Sierra, and Bucky releases a breath.

“Hello, Sir, what’s the name of the patient?”

“Y/N Y/L/N,” he replies. Sierra nods and types the information into her computer.

“Perfect, can I see some ID?” Bucky pulls his wallet out of his pocket with shaky hands and struggles for a moment to grab his ID before handing it to Sierra. She glances over it and types more into her computer. When she hands the ID back to Bucky, her eyes linger for a moment on his gloves, but she says nothing.

“Is she okay?” Bucky asks, not able to help himself.

“I’ll let the doctor know you’re here; she’ll come out and explain things to you. For now, please take a seat.” Even though all he wants to do is run through the hospital and look for you, Bucky sits down in the waiting room.

It feels like he can’t get a full breath. No matter how hard he tries, his lungs won’t fill all the way. It’s as if something is pressing on his chest, preventing air from getting in. He pulls out his phone and attempts to distract himself, but it doesn’t work. There isn’t anything more important than your wellbeing; nothing can take his mind off that.

After what feels like an eternity, a woman in a white coat comes out, glancing down at her clipboard. She calls Bucky’s name, and he shoots up, blood rushing to his head. The doctor walks toward him and motions for him to follow her.

“Good morning, Mr. Barnes,” she says kindly, giving Bucky a small smile. It strikes Bucky that this is one of the first times a doctor has spoken to him nicely. “Thank you for coming in. My name is Dr. Jean Abbott. I’ve been assigned to Ms. Y/N’s case. I’m sure you’re confused and worried, but we can’t give details about patients over the phone.” Dr. Abbott leads Bucky through a set of swinging doors and into a stark white hallway.

“That’s what Sierra said.” He feels like he’s in a trance; none of this feels real.

“Yes. About an hour ago, Y/N was admitted to the hospital. She was involved in a vehicle collision and brought in by an ambulance.” Bucky’s heart stops beating, and his steps falter. Dr. Abbott turns and places a gentle hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “Considering what happened, she’s in good condition. She’s injured and was in quite a bit of pain when she came in, but she’s strong, Mr. Barnes.”

They turn a corner, and Dr. Abbott stops in front of a closed door. There’s a small window, and inside, Bucky can see you, eyes shut, on the bed. The weight of the world crashes down on his shoulders.

“Fuck,” he whispers, reaching for the door handle.

“Mr. Barnes,” Dr. Abbott says, stopping Bucky from opening the door. “She’s been given medication to help with the pain. She’s asleep, and before you ask, yes, it’s safe. She’s gone through all the proper scans, and she’s being closely monitored. When she wakes up, she will be disoriented, and she may not even remember what happened.” Bucky nods. He just needs to be next to you, to hold you and keep you safe.

Dr. Abbott pushes the door open, and Bucky steps inside. The sight of you with the IV in your arm, the sensors on your body, wires connecting you to the machines makes him feel sick. There’s a chair beside your bed, but Bucky opts to just stand beside you. He gently runs his fingers along your hairline, where he sees a bruise forming.

A nurse steps into the room and speaks with Dr. Abbott for a moment, they glance at your chart and discuss treatment, but Bucky tunes them out.

“Sir, does she have insurance?” Bucky moves in slow motion as he reacts to the nurse’s words. His eyes never leave your face, slack from unconsciousness.

“Yes,” he replies quietly. He holds your hand in his, ungloved, so you’re skin to skin with him. Bucky knows he should keep his distance; the two of you aren’t in the place you used to be, but he needs to know that you’re okay, that you’re alive.

“Do you know if she keeps the card in her wallet?” Bucky nods. He remembers you pestering him about the fact that he never travels with any of his important information. The nurse prompts Bucky to grab your insurance card out of your wallet, so he does with shaky hands.

As he fingers through the pockets of your wallet, he finds your insurance card but what catches his eye is the crumpled piece of paper tucked behind your ID. He hands the insurance card to the nurse who steps out of the room. Then, Bucky pulls out the folded note.

He sits down in the uncomfortable plastic chair beside your bed and unfolds the paper. He finds your scrawling handwriting, faded and light in some spots. Bucky isn’t sure what it is; he doesn’t remember ever seeing you write something like this. You prefer to keep journals, so everything is in one place. When he reads the first words, his heart sinks.

Thank you all for coming today. It means more to me than I can say. As you all know, Bucky Barnes was indescribable. As I’m writing this, I can’t think of one word that can capture his spirit, his love, his soul accurately. He was defined by the people he loved, by us.

Tears brim in his eyes; he can’t believe you wrote a eulogy for him. He thinks back to the day the two of you planned his funeral, how your hands wouldn’t stop shaking. You’d been strong for him, but he saw how hard it was for you.

James Buchanan Barnes was born March 10, 1917, to Winnifred and George Barnes in Brooklyn, New York. He was an incredible son, brother, and friend. He loved hard and protected fiercely, standing up for what he believed in even when no one else would.

He cries freely now, not caring that people passing by stare at him strangely. He’s visited the grave his family made for him, he’s seen his name carved in stone with a birth and death date, but this is so different. He never got to hear his mother or family talk about him like this. He never heard the mourning words of the people he loved.

Bucky keeps reading, keeps tearing his heart apart with each word.

Loving Bucky was different. It wasn’t easy; it wasn’t all smooth sailing. There were hard days, days when I wasn’t sure he was going to come home in one piece. But it was worth it. Every minute, every tear I shed, every sleepless night. It was all worth it. Because without Bucky, my life would have been colorless. He brought light to my world after years of darkness. He showed me how to live, how to breathe. Even on the hard days when part of me wished he had kept his distance, I knew that this was how I was meant to spend my life.

Bucky courted me the old-fashioned way, flowers on my doorstep every morning and candlelit dinners. He was slow to open up to me, but once he did, I knew I was a goner. Bucky Barnes lived thousands of lives, not all of them his own, but they made him the man he was. I never doubted his devotion, and he never let me forget how much he cared. Bucky Barnes had so much love to give, and I was lucky to have a place in his heart.

He thinks back to the day you ended things, the way you wished he wouldn’t come home. He wonders why you’ve kept the eulogy if you felt that way. Bucky sets down the paper and turns his eyes toward you. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think you were just taking one of your daily naps. Before the breakup, he’d always compare you to a cat, sleeping in the sun.

One of your fingers twitches, and Bucky places your hand in his. He can’t believe he let this happen, that he let you slip away. He tells himself he’ll never leave your side again. He’ll prove it to you that he loves you, that he always has and always will. ‘Till the end of the line.

You feel heavy; something is sitting on your chest, preventing you from taking a full breath. Your eyes are glued shut, resisting every time you try to peel them open. Someone says your name, and you try to focus on it. The voice sounds far off, underwater.

Fingers sweep over your cheeks, brushing over one of your eyes, and it gives you the strength to fully awaken.

The lights in the room are too bright, the smell of chemicals is too powerful. You immediately shut your eyes again when the voice calls to you again, but this time it’s much closer. It’s familiar, warm, and welcoming. It’s sweet, comforting, and kind.

The voice is what coaxes your eyes open once more, but this time something has moved to block the light from your eyes. Blue eyes, brown hair, a scruffy beard, and deep-set worry lines.

Bucky.

He must see the recognition in your eyes because he smiles gently. His fingers continue to brush over your cheeks, your hair, and your nose. Whispers of touch bringing you back to reality.

“Bucky?” You croak, voice scratchy and dry. Emotion swims in Bucky’s eyes, and the heaviness in your chest lifts. “Bucky.” You say his name as if it could convey all the words in your head.

“I’m here, sweetie,” he whispers, leaning down to press his forehead to yours. The past few months come flooding back to you, the fighting, the feelings, the lunch meetings. You know you should tell him to step away, to give you space, but that’s not what you want right now.

Right now, you want nothing more than to wrap yourself up in his embrace and let him hold you. You want him to tell you that everything is going to be okay, that he’s got you. You lift your chin and bump your nose to his, calling a truce. Bucky nods; he understands.

He shifts, and as he does, you hear paper crinkling. You furrow your brow as the color drains from Bucky’s face. He glances down, and when he returns his gaze to you, he’s holding his eulogy.

You want to feel upset that he’s gone through your things and found it, but at the same time, a small part of you always hoped he’d find it. Maybe he’d finally understand your feelings, maybe he’d finally feel bad.

“I found it when I was looking for your insurance card,” he says quietly, folding the paper along its seams. “I didn’t mean to pry; I just saw what it said at the beginning, and I –” his voice gets thick as if he’s about to cry, and he cuts himself off.

“I wrote it after we planned your funeral.” Your words aren’t emotional; you’re just stating a fact. “I didn’t want to be caught off guard and have to write it once you were already gone.” Bucky drops his head and sucks in a shaky breath.

“Fuck.” A light knock on the door pulls your attention, and you clear your throat before telling them to come in.

A woman in a white coat walks in and heads straight for the sink, washing her hands. “Ah,” she breathes, giving you a once over. “It’s good to see you’re awake.” She dries her hands and walks to the side of your bed.

“She woke up a few minutes ago,” Bucky says to the woman, barely meeting her eyes.

“Good,” she replies before turning to face you. “My name is Dr. Jean Abbott. We briefly spoke before you fell asleep though I doubt you remember that.” You shake your head; you don’t remember it. “That’s to be expected. I’m just going to do a quick evaluation, and then we’ll talk about next steps.” You nod while Bucky shifts off the bed into the plastic chair beside you.

Dr. Abbott’s examination lasts only a few minutes, and when she’s done, she reports that everything looks good. You ask a few questions about what happened, if you’ll have permanent damage and the like, but Dr. Abbott assures you that despite how everything looks, you’ll be okay. In fact, you’ll be discharged by the end of the day. Bucky tries to fight her on that, insisting that you need to be monitored and taken care of for longer, but you remind him that hospitals are expensive and you probably can’t afford it.

Eventually, Bucky accepts that Dr. Abbott knows best and lets the woman get to her other patients. When she leaves, the air in the room shifts. She’d interrupted an emotional moment and provided a brief distraction, but with her gone, it all comes rushing back.

“I’m sorry,” Bucky says quietly, still sitting in the too-small hospital chair. “Fuck, I’m sorry.” You’re sitting upright, leaning against the plastic headboard of the bed, but despite your elevated position, you’re only a little bit higher than Bucky.

“Why are you sorry?” You can think of a few reasons why, but you want to hear it from him.

“Where do I even start?” He asks with a sarcastic laugh. “I’m sorry that you had to write a eulogy for my funeral. I’m sorry that I made you plan a funeral. I’m sorry that I stood you up when it counted. I’m sorry for being such an asshole.” He pauses and takes a deep breath, dropping his eyes from yours. When he returns your gaze, he continues. “I’m sorry for choosing work over you every time. That wasn’t fair to you. I should’ve told Sam no.”

Your heart thunders in your chest; it’s about to break out and fly away. Apologies don’t fix everything; they are bandaids on stab wounds. But they help a little, and with time and effort, you’ll heal.

You keep eye contact with Bucky as you shift yourself on the bed, swinging your legs down, so your toes brush the cold tile floor.

“Are you only apologizing because you saw the eulogy?” You need to know this isn’t just because he feels bad in this moment. This needs to be real.

“No.” His hand finishes like he’s about to touch you, but he holds himself back. “Ever since the day we broke up, I’ve been sorry. I was sorry when you helped me with my stitches. I was sorry when we went out to lunch every week. I was sorry every time I thought of you. Seeing the eulogy was the tipping point. I knew that I couldn’t let you go on not knowing.” Tears brim in his eyes, and you know he’s being genuine.

You reach out, and Bucky’s hand meets you halfway, gently gripping your fingers. That touch conveys more emotion than your words ever could. “Thank you.”

Three months later and the only reminder of your trip to the hospital is a scar on your head that’s fading fast. You don’t see much of Bucky outside of your weekly lunch meetings. You can tell he’s planning something; he’s fidgety and scatter-brained.

It isn’t until month four that you find out what he’s been hiding. After a particularly big bust of a weapons trafficking ring, Sam is speaking at a press conference. Bucky sits beside him, pensive and broody as ever. Sam answers questions charismatically, flashing his million-watt smile for the press. You’ve always thought the differences between Sam and Bucky are laughable, they’re two very different men, but they work so well together.

You’re watching the press conference on your TV, though you can’t seem to think of why you turned it on in the first place. The cameras pan to Bucky; someone must have asked him a question. He shifts closer to the microphone and clears his throat.

“Uh, yeah, this kind of thing isn’t isolated. It’s gonna take a long time to take them all out.” Bucky looks so uncomfortable, his eyes seek out something in the crowd, but when he doesn’t find it, he opts to just turn to Sam, who gives him a nod.

“Mr. Barnes, do you have a comment on–” The reporter doesn’t get to finish her question, getting cut off by Bucky raising his hand to silence her.

“I need to say something.” He looks straight into the camera, and you feel like he’s staring at you. “I’ve been going non-stop since 1941. I’ve lost a lot, and what I’ve gained I’ve managed to lose as well. I just wanted to put it out there that I’m done.” You furrow your brow as the press chatters, shouting more questions. A camera focuses on Sam, who just smiles.

“What do you mean, you’re done?” A reporter asks, shouting louder than the others.

“It means I’m done. I’m retired. There’s always something else, and I want to live my life for once. Good luck, Sam. It’s been good.” Bucky stands, gives an off-putting smile to the camera, then walks out of the camera’s line of sight.

Retired. You grab your computer and find that social media is already exploding with the news. “Bucky Barnes the Winter Soldier announces surprise retirement” is everywhere. People speculate why he’d retire; what did he mean when he said he’s lost what he’d gained?

A hurried knock on your door halts your search, but you have a feeling you’ll get some answers. When you open the door, Bucky Barnes greets you with puppy dog eyes and a gentle smile.

“Retired?” You ask, opening the door more so he can step inside. Instead of following you in, he stays in the hallway.

“Retired,” he replies, rocking on his heels.

“Why don’t you come inside?” Bucky shakes his head, and you notice his hands are behind his back. You raise an eyebrow, but he stands his ground.

“If it’s okay with you, I’d like to start over.” You tilt your head when he reveals a bouquet of flowers that he’d been hiding behind his back. They’re beautiful, light shades of pastels and full blooms.

“Bucky,” you say quietly, shocked by the gesture.

“I’m sorry if this is strange; I’m kinda rusty,” he says, repeating the words he’d said to you the first time he’d spoken to you. “My name is James Buchanan Barnes, and you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” A tear slips down Bucky’s cheek, and you know you’re not too far behind.

“How forward of you,” you say, just like you did all those years ago.

“Let me take you to dinner.” He places the flowers in your arms, and you shake your head.

“I don’t even know you, James Buchanan Barnes.” He smiles; it’s teary but hopeful.

“Well, let me fix that.” You step out into the hallway and walk down the stairs with him. You already know where he’s taking you. You know that over the next three weeks, he will send you flowers every day, he’ll write a sweet note on each one, and he’ll win your heart all over again.

Falling in love with Bucky Barnes will be different this time. You know more; you’re wiser. Nothing is promised, nothing is guaranteed, but for the first time in a long time, you’re ready to give it a shot.

People change, people grow. Maybe you and Bucky can grow together.

Please let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future works!

Series tags: @peaches1958 @scxrletrecsmarvel @prettylittlepluviophile @writerwrites @w0nderw0mansw0rld @thefandomplace @kotlclover2021 @alitterayof-pitchblack @littlebodybigbrain

general tags: @/peaches1958 @/scxrletrecsmarvel @/prettylittlepluviophile @/writerwrites @/w0nderw0mansw0rld @hawsx3

[shadow--writer]

hi! could you maybe write something for muriel where the mc hears him talking to asra about how he doesn’t like the mc’s constant touching and how she talks too much, so the mc completely stops touching him and only speaks when spoken to? and maybe the main six realising more and more that the mc is keeping to herself and trying to find out what’s wrong, but she’s deeply hurt and embarrassed? sorry if that is too specific, it’s a dream i’ve had x

I’m gonna take it you want a she/her apprentice for this one? There aren’t any names here but there are gonna be she/her pronouns! Heads up here!

I wrote a little fic for it. First person since I’m still trying to get a hang of second it’s a work in progress XDD.

This is very angsty with Muriel and Apprentice (kinda ooc Muriel? Idk think of this as towards the start of his route. I love him so much this hurt to write)

Also sorry this didn’t go over everything you asked lol this got a little long but maybe I’ll add more later if y’all want ^^!

Requests are open! Fic and headcanon requests open still check out my pinned post for info! 

I hope I did this ask justice XDD lol have fun with the angst! 

TW: None.

Tags: Angst, tears, hurt/comfort, good friend Asra, great friend Faust. Lot’s and lot’s of angst. 

~~~~

My day started like any other. 

Woke up to Asra’s soft snoring and Faust’s little tongue blepping out as they snuggled together on their half of the bed. I was a bit groggy and my body ached, but I got up and ready for the day. 

Making breakfast I thought about what I would for the day. Nadia and Portia were out. Julian was making housecalls all day, I didn’t know what Asra was going to do but judging by his snores he would be asleep for a while. 

A grin broke it’s way across my face as I thought about visiting Muriel. I’ve been meaning to say hi again to the ladies (the chickens) and give Inanna a gift I had made for her a bit ago. 

I finished up breakfast and hurried to get my things together. Surprised, I found no Asra in our bed. He must’ve left while I was eating. 

It was no matter, I had a mountain man to see! My heart fluttered a little as I thought about him, he just...he made me so happy. 

His little blushes, when he actually smiled. Oh that soft smile was killer. I couldn’t be mad or sad when he gave me that soft little smile. 

My skin buzzed as I thought about touching him. Running my hands along his arm as we talked (me talking more, chattering on about what was going on in the shop and what everyone was doing while he listened, nodding along).

I seemed to skip on my way to his house, humming a happy song I heard a while back from Julian. 

“Hi little Apprentice! How are you?” Selasi called, smiling at me. I waved vigorously, grinning back at him.

“I’m doing great Selasi! Going to see a friend!”

“Would you like some pumpkin bread for the lucky person? New batch is coming out of the oven now!”

I pursed my lips, fighting back another large grin. “Okay! I brought enough for it anyways!”

“Ohh dear you don’t need to pay I’ll make it special for you!”

“Selasi this is a very poor business you’re running,” I chided with a laugh. “Let me pay for it, please.”

He sighed before laughing. “Stubborn as ever, fine. But it’s half off. Just for you.” He winked, making me roll my eyes. I would not win this fight.  

I paid for the bread, Selasi handing it to me in a small bundle. The spices wafted up to my face, making me sigh with happiness. 

Selasi laughed, waving me off as I headed back to the forest. “Have fun up there apprentice!”

I waved back with a large smile. “I will!”

It didn’t take long for me to get to the forest and begin my trek through it. My cloak got caught on a few branches but it didn’t do anything to sway my mood. I was determined to stay happy today.

Today was going to be a good day. 

Turning against the now beaten path, I spotted Muriel’s hut. I picked up my cloak and started to run, the chickens running around my feet, cooing at me. I bent over to run my hands along their backs. Their feathers were so soft, almost like silk. 

I wondered if he used a charm when bathing them, or maybe they just were taken care of so well their feathers reflected it.

“Hey ladies, can you point me in the direction of Muriel?” I asked, one of the chickens squawking like a reply. 

I nodded, pretending to understand. “Oh! He’s inside his hut? Thank you darling I’ll head there right away.” Another squawk. “And bring food out. Don’t worry.”

Tucking the bread into my side, I made my way to his door. I wanted to surprise him with the pumpkin bread, he seemed to like it a lot. Even asked Selasi for the recipe (the former replying with a wink saying ‘that’s a family secret’)

I could hear muffled voices when I got to the door. The door was cracked open. I tensed, magic sparking at my fingertips. 

Then I heard Asra’s voice and relaxed. I smiled again. He was here! Great! He would be ecstatic over the pumpkin bread I brought.

I snuck closer, listening to their conversation. It sounded heated. I stopped moving. “-I just hate how touchy she is!” Muriel’s voice. 

I froze. 

Was...was he talking about me? I was the only person to touch him as often as I did but...

“Muriel she doesn’t mean any harm by it! She’s just friendly!”

“Yes but I don’t like it when she gets so close to me like that. Like she’s always got to be touching me or she’ll die.”

I froze. 

When Asra dropped my name my blood ran cold in my veins. 

“Muriel she’s just being friendly. She loves you and she loves being around you. Touch is how she communicates that!”

“Yes but she talks so much and I never can get away. She always so touchy and always talking. It makes my head hurt. What if I want to be alone?!”

Asra let out a small sigh. “I understand. I know what you’re feeling but Muriel please understand she loves touch and she loves having conversations with you.”

“She just talks too much. Touches too much. It’s all too much.”

Each word was a knife to my heart. 

I did talk too much. I did touch him too much. And he hated me for it. Of course he hated me for it. 

Tears sprung up in my eyes. I didn’t know any of this. He never told me any of this.

I thought he was fine with it, used to it!

It just hurt so badly. 

Swiping at my eyes I turned and started to run. I dropped the pumpkin bread along the way but I didn’t care. I just needed to get away from them. Away from Muriel especially.

I let out a choked sob, tree branches scratching my arms and my cheeks. My tears fell faster and faster, my stomach curdling. All hopes for a good day were dashed. 

Tripping on a branch I went sprawling, my cries getting stuck in my throat as I pushed myself to sit upright. My hands were scratched up and they stung but I didn’t care. My cries were silent, my chest heaved and my body trembled. 

There was a cracking of twigs to my left. I tensed, but it was only Faust.

Friend?

I sniffed. “I’m fine Faust. Go back to Asra.” She flicked her tongue at me.

Friend hurt!

“Faust I’m fine.” I snapped. She blinked, and she stopped swaying. I wanted to bite back my words. Just because I was hurt and upset didn’t mean I could make her feel like that. “Faust I’m...sorry. I just...”

Muriel? Touch? Friend sad.

I nodded. “Nailed it right on the head.” She slithered closer, curling onto my lap. I ran my hand along her head and down the coil of her body.

Faust help.

“I don’t know if you can help...Muriel hates me. I’m so stupid!” My hands shook. My head was starting to hurt. Dizziness would soon set in. My hands, arms and face were still bleeding. 

Friend not stupid! Friend smart!

“Friend hurt another friend by not picking up body language clues.” Faust looked down at my bloodied palms.

Friend needs help.

I smiled, tears rolling down my cheeks. “Yeah. Yeah. I’ll just go home. A-And sleep.” My voice cracked as I spoke. “I want this all to be a dream,” I whispered to the snake on my lap.

The day had just started and I already wanted it to be over.

Faust curled around my arm. Faust come with friend.

I got to my feet, my legs shaking under me. I’d go home, clean up, sleep...and then....figure something out from there. 

“Thank you Faust,” I said softly making my way home.

~~

The days after that moved slow and sluggish. Asra watched me, concerned with my wellbeing. I didn’t eat much. And I was sleeping more. 

I knew he knew. When he brought back the cheesecloth the bread was in I knew he knew. 

He didn’t mention it. We only went about our days. 

Me only talking to Faust in fractured sentences. Whenever I saw Muriel I kept silent unless he spoke first. 

I never touched anyone, keeping my hands curling into my sides, tucked into my arms. 

Just not touching him.

He seemed to notice my behaviour with a wrinkle in his brow and a small huff. 

I didn’t care. I didn’t care.

I didn’t care about how my skin ached without touch. I didn’t care about how I wanted to cry every time to open my mouth to give a short answer to a question or conversation. 

I didn’t want to make him uncomfortable. I didn’t want him to hate me.

So I swallowed into myself. 

And

f

e

l

l

[theonetheycallhannah]

The Treatment of Captain Syverson-Prologue: History

Characters: OFC (Shane Benton), OMC (Elliott Thomas)

Summary: Shane Benton is a hard-working physical therapist and a loving girlfriend…but her boyfriend has a less than desirable way of showing it.

In case you’ve fallen behind or want to read more of my drabbles!

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings:  Language, mature themes, angst, infidelity, domestic violence (moderate). Yeah, this may be a tad rough for some readers, but I tried to be mild, and mostly implicit. It was hard still, to see my fictional offspring go through this, even if she gives as good as she gets!

Author’s Note: Oh, y’all. When I needed a break from the sweet tenderness of Chapter 8, I came here and put Shane through some hell. (You can blame one of my friends I was talking about for this angst as they’re the one who put me into angsty headspace by cheating on my other friend! It’s been weighing on me! But I guess at least I’ve been able to use it!) I really hope you enjoy a bit of backstory on our heroine! I really liked writing her ferocity.

Also, I meant to have this posted yesterday, but because of some tragedy in one of my other fandoms (and the world, in general! Rest In Power, Chadwick Boseman!) and a bit of craziness in my personal life (my HS bestie wanted to hang out this weekend, so I spent a lot of time with her…also…I’ve been talking to a real live fella! OMG! And it’s entirely too soon to say that I like him, but like…I very much do…but he’s far away and recently single and things are complicated in just, several ways, so it just can’t happen at this point. But…like, we have been talking a ton recently, and…sigh. I have found it difficult to focus on the matters at hand. But, rest assured, I’m working on Chapter Nine, and it will be up just as soon as I find my rhythm!

Disclaimer: Unbeta’d because this is for fun and escapism. (Well, this isn’t a super fun chapter, I guess!)

Tags: 

@onlyhenrys

@cavillryarchive

@summersong69

@titty-teetee

@bloodyinspiredfuck

@agniavateira

@oddsnendsfanfics

@omgkatinka

@thisismysecretthirstblog

@misslaland

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@tumblnewby

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Hope I’m not forgetting anyone! If you want to be notified when I post a new chapter or work, I’ll be happy to add you to my tag list! (Also, if you’ve asked and aren’t on the list...well...that would be because I forgot to add you and reminding me will not offend or upset me. I think I might have ADD, or something, and being reminded about things is kind of how I survive!) Stricken blogs are getting personal messages from me when a new chapter is uploaded because Tumblr’s faulty tagging system will not stand in the way of me delivering what the people want!(?) lol! (Although…their lackadaisical notification system might…sorry for that. I have no control. lol!)

X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X

5 years ago-

Shane got home from work, exhausted. The new electronic documentation system they'd just implemented was kicking her ass. And Anita's, whom she constantly had to help with it, all the while hearing Anita bellow "When can I retire?!" which lost its charm on about the third day.

"Elliott, I'm home." She didn't smell anything cooking, despite the fact that she knew he was off all day today. Whatever. She was used to him doing virtually nothing but whatever hipster bullshit he got up to on Instagram and YouTube, trying to get off the ground as an influencer with a brand…spare her. Since when did that become a job? She didn’t mind to get takeout though, if only she knew he wasn’t cooking. Maybe she should have asked. "Honey, I could have picked something up if--" she was startled by him in the doorway to the hall, in only his anime boxers, looking like he was trying to not be surprised she was home. "What?"

"Nothing, just…excited to see you! How was your day?" Elliott asked, scratching the back of his neck, displacing his mid-length, slightly moppy light brown hair, already disheveled. That was his tell. Something was up. She knew it.

"What's going on? Are you hiding something from me?"

"Why would you ask me that? Don't you trust me, baby?!" he guilted. Knowing just the buttons to push for empathy. It wasn't gonna work today. The machine was all out of that selection and full of his bullshit currency.

"Now that you mention it, no. I sure as hell don't." she walked around to enter the hall and investigate the rest of the house. "Let me through." he wouldn't budge. He had the advantage of physical size, but she was still wearing her work uniform including sneakers…he was more than half naked. She stomped hard on his instep and smacked him in the ear as he doubled over. She felt marginally bad for that in the moment…at best he'd get mild tinnitus for a while. At worst, he could have permanent hearing damage. She'd check later for blood coming out of his ear and see if she should feel worse about it then.

She rounded the corner to their bedroom. The quilt her grandma had made her was carelessly crumpled with the top sheet and blanket at the foot board. She noticed a swatch of an orangey red lipstick on her pillow. The same shade smudged onto the full mouth of the panicking strawberry blonde frantically donning clothes in front of her antique mirror, and the same shade, she was guessing, that was smeared across certain places on Elliott’s body that were now covered by those boxers that she had always hated. You know what, Elliott, she thought to herself. Fuck Bleach, and fuck you!

"I'm sure you're a lovely person who's just been lied to by a very charming and manipulative man, but…you still only have ten seconds to get to my front door before I call the cops." Shane threatened the girl, who couldn't have been more than twenty-one…and he was thirty-three.

"She's my guest." Elliott defended.

"You're not even on the lease. Your credit was too bad." she said over her shoulder while still squared off with the girl. She turned back to her. "I'm trying to be calm here, sweetie. But do not make me tell you even one more time to get out of my…fucking…house." the girl picked up her shoes and a small messenger bag from the floor near where Shane stood, keeping as wide a berth as she could, and skittered out of the room in terror.

"How many times, Elliott?"

"Don't do this, Shane."

"No, I think this is something we should do. Count the times you’ve broken my trust. Kissed another girl, fooled around with one, fucked one…I mean…I've never caught you in our bed before, so this LOOKS like a first…I sure hope it is…because I don't recall you doing any laundry since you've lived here. And if I thought you let me sleep in the same sheets that you…I can't even look at you, you son of a bitch."

"It's not what you think, Shane." he said, calmly, as if he'd simply picked up the wrong consistency of peanut butter from the store. The wrong brand of milk. Not that he ever did the shopping.

"Bullshit. Bull. Shit. Elliott. I come home and find you like this, and there's a girl in OUR bedroom, and her lipstick is all over MY pillow, and your balls, no doubt. Not gonna make you prove it, because at this point, I don't give a shit anymore. I've lost count of how many times I've forgiven you, even times you didn't care enough to ask me to. Times you probably don't even know that I know about. But it's done. You're gonna pack up all your things. And you're gonna be gone by the time I get home from work tomorrow. And don't expect me to be late…because I will not be."

"You're acting crazy. You can't do this. Where will I go, Shane?"

"That's not my concern anymore. Find an apartment that accepts Likes and subscriptions and followers as rent and cherish it. But your free ride here is done. I'm not your mom, your maid, your cook, or…anything to you anymore, Elliott."

He was getting angry now. His nostrils flared and his breaths came more quickly.

"Is this because you're fucking another guy? Hmm?" he got in her space, but she was out of the bedroom and back into the hallway. She shouted back.

"Oh, NOW you're gonna try to deflect this onto me? When in holy hell would I have time to get with anyone but you, when we don't even have sex anymore?! It's been, what, two, three months?"

"You work with guys."

"You have no idea who I am. To think that I would do something like that. No idea at all. If I don't have time at home, I certainly don't have time for sex at work, and you can ask any of my coworkers, male OR female. That place is an unsexy, unholy shit show 90% of the time. And the other ten, it's just above bearable."

"Well, I'm still not going anywhere."

"You are. Like I said. You're not on the lease. And all I have to do is call the landlord and tell him you're here without my permission and he'll have the cops here." she had gotten a glass of water…although she needed something stronger, and was standing by the sink with it. Her mouth was getting dry. She couldn't take much more of this without breaking.

"You wouldn't really do that to me though. I'm the only man who can give you what you want." he grabbed her by the arm, hard.

"Let go of me, Elliott."

"Or what." he asked for it. She got the other instep, his groin, and threw water in his face. She grabbed her purse and bolted out the door.

She got quickly on the phone with Heather her closest friend who had recently been hired on as a secretary for her clinic.

"Yello." she said, cheerful.

"Two things: can I crash at your place tonight and what kind of phone do you have?" she asked.

"Yes and a Galaxy something, I dunno, but what the fresh hell are you talking about?"

"I'll explain when I get there. I’m on my way to CVS for some essentials. Do you need anything?"

"Sounds like we need wine and ice cream!"

"Already on the list." She thanked Heather and hung up, calling her landlord.

“This’s Sam.” She heard over the receiver.

“Sam, I’m sorry to bother you, but I have a situation at the house.”

“What’s goin’ on?” He asked concerned. She’d never rented from anyone so kind. He’d become almost family. Like an uncle.

“Long story short, pest control. I’m kicking Elliott out and he has until the time I get home from work tomorrow. I told him you’d be there with the cops if he didn’t comply because he’s not on the lease. Is there any way you can help me and make that good?”

“He hurt ya, Shane?”

“Not, umm…not physically.” Although she had been rubbing the place on her arm where he’d grabbed her, certain there would be a bruise.

“That’s all I need to know. I’ve got a buddy or two on the squad here in town. I’m sure they won’t mind to help me out. You need anything?”

She held back the tears until she could hang up. “I’m staying over at a friend’s tonight and headed into CVS now for a few things I didn’t take time to grab after I kneed him in the groin and ran out.” She had just pulled into the parking lot.

“Well I’m nearby if you need anything when you’re back home.”

“Thanks. I guess just watch for smoke from the place for now. I don’t know what he might do, honestly.”

Up Next: Prologue: Onset of Injury (Sy)

[elliethesuperfruitlover]

Luba (Mute) NSFW Alphabet

A/N: This came to me very easily, and I’ve been wanting to do this one for a while. Soo, here it is. Enjoy!!

Warnings: BDSM, creampies, a lot of sex lol, roughness

Cheeky Tag List: @misskittysmagicportal, @joz-stankovich, @super-unpredictable98, @the-freckled-luba, @the-novel-on-the-left, @neuroticpuppy, @iamsexytrash, @wasabimia, @bisexualnathanyoung, @imagine-you

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)  I feel like Luba’s extremely caring after a nice fuck, y’know? Being in sex work, he has to make sure he caters to the person’s every need. If it was more rough, he’ll pop out the lotion and rub on the more raw places on someone’s body. If he’s tired, he’ll probably have a couple post-coital cuddles and kisses. Luba also likes candles. I feel like he might order food, and have calm music playing. Very chill.

B = Body Part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s) I feel like Luba likes his chest a lot for some weird reason. Even when it might be fake, he really likes when people might place their hands on it, or slide them down his chest. Also, lay your head on that chest please, he likes it. Titties or not. On his partner’s, thighs. Small or thick, he really likes them lol. He likes to squeeze someone’s thighs, or gently kiss them. If you’re walking around the house with tight shorts on, or where your thighs are exposed, he’ll be all over them. Also, if he’s going down on you, he likes to be between them, and his head to be squeezed. He also likes slapping your thighs.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person) Okay, so Luba’s a very quiet orgasmer (is that a word). Kat and I share a HC that all of Rob’s characters might not say anything, but their breathing will pick up, and it’ll just be hot and heavy for a bit. I also feel like Luba really fucking likes giving people creampies. He also likes getting sucked off to orgasm, so if you swallow, he’s in shock. If you’re covered in it, even better,

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) He likes calling other people daddy or mommy. A form of praise. He really like spanking, giving or receiving.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)  Luba is extremely experienced, he has to be for his profession. However, if you want something specific, or only get off from a particular part of stimulation, let him know, He wants to learn about what you like.

F= Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual) I feel like Luba likes missionary a lot. He can slowly fuck someone, or have their legs hiked on his shoulders, and absolutely pummel them into the mattress, kitchen counter, whatever it may be that he’s fucking them into. He can also see them and their reactions. and titties lol.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc) I have a strong feeling that Luba doesn’t really like to fool around, especially with sex. He’ll tease you, but I don’t think he’ll pop any jokes, but one or two might come out.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.) He’s clean shaven, but I won’t pass up the opportunity to say that Luba dyed his pubes once. (they were light blue)

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…) Luba’s very romantic, and likes to focus on the emotional aspect of sex. So he’ll be very serious, and be focused on trying to pleasure you.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon) Luba doesn’t really touch himself, unless it’s something like mutual masturbation, or if he’s REALLY horny. And if that happens, it’s typically quite rough masturbation, and he’ll be extremely loud.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks) Like I mentioned earlier, a hidden daddy/mommy kink. He also likes tits, so pls motorboat him. Also, PLEASE peg him. He wants it. Also, smack that ass all you want.

L = Location (Favorite places to do the do) He’s not too particular, as he really fucking likes to tease you in public. So, I feel like at home is first, the parlor is second, and anywhere public is next. Especially semi-public. He won’t hesitate to fuck you at a restaurant, or something where people are bound to see you.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going) He likes when you’re whining at what he’s doing, and when you’re getting impatient. He really likes teasing you. If you bite his neck, or kiss it, or start playing along, oh yeah, he’s hard. Or, if you decide to switch roles and want to top him.  Also, if you’re wearing particularly titty revealing, or if you’re not wearing a bra, and he knows that you’re letting them be.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs) Anything too BDSM’y. Like, no blood play, no bodily fluids other than cum, nothing like that. Nothing gross.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc) Luba loves to fucking give oral. and he’s bomb at it as well. It doesn’t matter whomst he may be sucking or licking, he likes to see and hear how they react. However, I won’t rule out the fact that he likes to get oral too. He’ll have his hand on their head, and just lean back and enjoy them pleasing him. He doesn’t get much of that as an escort. He enjoys being treated, and given something he may want, especially sexually. ALSO, I’M ADDING THIS ON. I feel like Luba REALLY fucking likes getting head. Like, if you deepthroat him, it’s a done deal, he’ll be fucking your mouth. Or if you moan around him, he’s cumming down your throat in a matter of seconds.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.) It depends on how he feels. If he’s particularly horny, he’ll fuck you nice and hard, and make sure you can’t feel your legs. If you’re in public, he’ll start slow, but then speed up, simply because he wants to hear you suffer. He’s a good mix though, but most nights, he’ll be really slow.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.) Luba really likes quickies, and if your job time differs, y’all might be having more quickies than actual sex. He likes actual sex though, but if you’re in a rush to work, but he’s really horny, he’ll fuck you on the car, or on the kitchen counter while you’re eating. Doing your hair? Doggy style. Simple as that. He’ll also finger you if you’re in a BIG rush.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.) Luba does tease a lot, and that’s risky, especially if you’re in the verge of an orgasm, and he suddenly takes his fingers out and licks them clean. (slowly)Yeah, you’ll be wanting to fuck him REAL bad. I feel like he will experiment though, he’s open to a lot of things.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…) Luba lasts VERY LONG. He has to for his job, but with you, he puts extra in. 4, sometimes 5 rounds.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?) YES LUBA OWNS TOYS. He also owns quite a lot of them, and likes to use them quite often. Mostly dildos and cock rings, but he does have vibrators, and likes to tease you with them. If you request it, he’ll fuck himself on a dildo as well. Also, a strap for obvious reasons.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease) LUBA IS THE BIGGEST FUCKING TEASE OUT HERE AND I STAND BY THAT SHIT. I WILL DIE ON THIS HILL. Y’all could be in public and he’ll be kissing up your neck, or his fingers’ll be tickling your waist. If it’s getting to the main event, there will be fingers everywhere besides where you’ll most want them. And when you ask him for what you want most, you’ll get a short “What, I don’t think I’m doing anything?”, or a giggle from wherever his mouth may be residing. He likes hearing the desperation in someone’s voice, and hearing them beg. If you start pulling his hair, that’s when the tongue appears, the fingers start moving, all that.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make) Luba is very fucking loud, thank you very much. I know I said heavy breathing, but my god, get behind him with a strap, he’ll be screaming. If you may be 69′ing, he’ll be really loud, as it does add to the sensation. If you’re sucking him off, yes, he’ll be very loud. Anything high stimulation really gets him going.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice) If you come into the parlor, he’ll fuck you after he’s done with a client, or if he’s free. That’s all I’m saying. He also likes external orgasms like squirting, and he WILL drink it. And if it got on your body, he’ll lick it clean.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words) Luba’s a little average, but I feel like he’s a little on the thick side. Not like you’ll look at his dick and be like “this won’t fit”.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?) It’s high, but not rabbit fuckingly so. He likes sex a lot, but doesn’t want it all the time. But, most days a week, y’all are fucking.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards) If you two did something physically taxing like 69′ing or another complicated position, he’ll be tired, or if you went for more rounds than usual, he’ll be really sleepy. However, he does wait until you fall asleep to drift off. Every now and then he beats you to it though.

Masterlist

[readysetstarker]

so, i’m guessing i’m in for an “ugh, finally” from a follower or two. i’ve been busy, gone through some very personal stuff over the last couple of months that made writing a near-impossible task for me. thankfully, i’ve mostly made it through. so sorry for such a long wait, my dears. i hope y’all enjoy.

also, much love to @quellthefire for, well, pretty much everything over the past few weeks. she knows everything she’s done for me. it’s why i specifically waited for her to return from work to post this, lol.

i’m sure some people have changed usernames or had blogs deactivated, and if you have, please PM instead of replying so i can fix your url on the tag list! i know it’s taken me way too long to get this part out, and a lot has happened since last september. sorry to make y’all wait.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

Tag list: @loki-iwanttobeking, @strawberryparkers, @hoe4parker, @deliciousflapbanditfarm, @idontfeelsogoodmrspock, @srrnnrrs, @carttorchdeatth, @starkerhowlter, @starkeristhenameshippingismygame, @awesomeimportantfan, @itsjustmeowrooh, @starkravingspiders, @subverbaldreams, @this-starker-hoe, @moderndayqueenofscots, @prettyboy-parker, @sadbumblingmess, @winter-starker, @afreckledfairy, @lunakir, @parleroumourirr, @mintystarker, @starkerfics, @starkerprince, @mystarker, @aoifelaufeyson, @consciencecoward, @shinycreatoroafbonk, @themanandthespider, @jokesonme9000, @silkystark, @superpaperclip, @betteraskremus, @justallydavis, @marvel-shxt, @loki-helmet, @urfavisastarker, @haysend, @outlawbiscuits, @xmissemilyx-blog-blog, @silverloveless, @hereforagoodtimenotalong, @zoerayne2426, @kkomusume, @ardett, @seriouslystarker, @starkerprince, @shipperofalltheships, @morgoona-stark, @momobaby227, @idfuckanymarvelperson, @lltrashll, @richieleeparker, @haylove5, @katieb968, @xlace-babyx, @multi-fandom-fucker, @narutoyaoifan, @thatmarvelstan, @shinytoy, @allie-lyre, @country-cowgirl-101, @heyimstarker, @kiaorastarker, @nymeriasutcliff, @hoeforthegays, @ironspiidey, @annoyingcatto, @another-starker-hoe, @isomnelyswear, @starker-3000, @donttellanyoneitsmebabe, @peachbabytarte, @paintingbellarke, @pixiedragon99, @starterrrrrrrr, @pankade, @procrastinating-porcupine, @book-reviews-by-titch, @scared2death2live, @leatheronplaid, @untold-royalty, @kittycake574, @rk800puppy, @nerdylocksandthethreebears, @ikneelbeforemygod, @bipolarlatinx, @amazingness666, @fandombitchs-blog, @love-is-not-an-option, @starkerflowers, @theatrekidwithissues, @babygirl-barnes, @rebel13lion39, @cherrygoldlove, @casnovak88, @princess-parker, @blue-birb-blog

Warnings: peter is 19. anxiety attacks, mentions of a student/teacher relationship. nothing nsfw here. saving that for later ;)

—

Peter read the email over and over again, heart pounding like an uncontrollable jackhammer, and willed it to be fake. Some part of him hoped that maybe Flash had gotten ahold of Professor Stark’s email, gone through his computer, and sent it to throw Peter off. The things Flash had done and said to him back in high school, Peter wouldn’t count Flash out of doing something so… cruel.

Regret to inform you that your services as a teacher’s assistant will no longer be needed, the words said, each letter like a knife in Peter’s chest. Thank you for your interest in the position, but a more qualified candidate has been chosen to replace you. I’m sorry for any inconvenience this change causes...

He couldn’t bring himself to read the rest. His blood went cold, even as his heart pounded so hard he briefly thought it would jump out of his ribcage. This couldn’t be happening. He could just close his eyes and count to three, and everything would be fixed, right? Right?

Peter hastily clicked out of the window and began pacing his room. He chewed on a nail until it broke. What was he going to do? What was he going to say? He had already told May he had an announcement to make at dinner; she was expecting something good, if the way she was humming and singing to herself in the kitchen was anything to go by. 

The last thing he needed to brag about was losing the position.

His fingers were moving across his keyboard before he could properly think. Pulling up the email again, sending Professor Stark a reply filled with apologies for anything and everything he had done wrong, and refreshing the page four times within the span of two minutes. Hopefully, Professor Stark wasn’t one of those teachers who didn’t respond to their emails.

Peter paced his room and refreshed the page until May’s voice finally floated in through his doorway, “Dinner’s ready, Pete! I don’t think I burned it this time.”

Peter’s heart jumped into his throat. He’d have to tell her.

The smell of definitely-burnt meatloaf clung to Peter’s nostrils when he entered the kitchen, a hazy, smokey fog hanging over the apartment. May stood at one of the windows in the living room and used a copy of The Daily Bugle to waft it out into the night. She brushed her dark hair out of her face with her free hand and offered him a weak, guilty smile.

“Okay, I lied. It’s a little charred. But I won’t be offended if you want to scrape off the black bits.”

Peter offered her a weak chuckle and went to set the table. He nervously ran his thumb over a chip in one of the plates while May abandoned her task of fanning out the smoke, but she left the window open. A gentle breeze and the smell of Queens at night joined them at the dinner table.

The meatloaf was dry and tough, but the vegetables she had cooked to go along with it were nearly perfect. She did tease him about how much salt he put over them before she took a sip of her water and cleared her throat. “So,” she started, and Peter didn’t feel very hungry anymore. “What was your big announcement? I’ve been dying all day, since you texted me at lunch.”

At lunch, I still had a job, he thought bitterly, buying some time for himself by chewing thoughtfully on a stalk of broccoli. 

“Oh, yeah.” Peter swallowed and, wow, his tongue was ridiculously dry. Had he put too much salt on his food this time? No, he hadn’t, but he liked to think that it wasn’t his fear and anxiety making his tongue stick to the roof of his mouth. “It’s, um, it’s not—”

“Is everything okay?” May asked, and the concern in her voice made his chest ache. “I know finals are coming up. Are you doing okay in your classes? Do you need help? You know, we have that retired chemist upstairs; I’m sure she wouldn’t mind tutoring you if I baked her a pan of my walnut brownies. She was asking for some the other day.”

“No! No, I’m doing fine in my classes. My astrology teacher actually made me exempt from taking the exam because I have the highest grade in the class.” Peter’s teeth dug into his cheek. “May, it’s about the teaching assistant job.”

“The what?” May perked up, eyebrows rising to her hairline. “What job? When did you apply?”

“Didn’t I tell you?” May shook her head, food forgotten, completely entranced by Peter’s next words. “Oh, um, the teacher of one of the dual enrollment classes I took in high school was hiring a couple of assistants for next year. I applied for it.”

Her face lit up; Peter could see the excitement in her eyes. His stomach dropped even further as she leaned in with a grin.

“Did you get it? You got it, didn’t you? Wait, when did you even apply? Why didn't you tell me you were applying?” she asked. Each question came so quickly Peter didn’t have time to answer. She was practically vibrating in her seat.

Fuck. 

What was he supposed to say to that?

“I, um, I did my first training for it today,” he offered. 

It wasn’t a complete lie, not a lie at all, but it still didn’t feel right watching May cheer and jump from the table so forcefully that she knocked her chair over. She didn’t seem bothered about disturbing the neighbors with the noise. May rushed around the table and threw her arms around his shoulders. Her kiss to his cheek was met with no protest.

“Oh my god, I’m so proud of you! Did you enjoy it? Does it pay?” she asked, and quickly followed it up with: “Oh, that doesn’t matter. What matters is that you enjoy it. And that it doesn’t get in the way of your school work.”

Peter just nodded as she kissed his cheek again and ruffled his hair. “We have to celebrate! Oh, I have moose tracks ice cream in the fridge! Bought it on a whim. What excellent timing, though!”

May didn’t seem to notice the strain in his smile as she placed a noisy kiss to his forehead and abandoned her half-eaten loaf for fetching the ice cream from the fridge. Peter let the smile drop from his face the moment she was back in the kitchen, twisting his fork on his plate, a piece of tough and overcooked meat speared on the end of it. His appetite, already struggling, made itself non-existent now.

He had to do something to save himself the embarrassment of owning up to May. He couldn’t disappoint her, not with how excited she was, and how she politely (and, almost embarrassed) asked him to assist with rent.

The cherry on top of his horrendous night was calling Tony, hoping maybe he could distract himself or ask for a fitting punishment, one of the ones Tony dolled out when Peter really wanted him to be mean. His first call was cut short, barely making it to the third ring before an automated voice told him his call couldn’t be completed.

He tried again, hands shaking, heart jumping into his throat, hoping the operator on the other end wouldn’t judge or laugh at his desperation. She was monotonous as ever, but that didn’t stop his mind from supplying every little possible laugh and mocking word she would have said once he was no longer within earshot.

Waiting for Tony to pick up his second call was even more nerve-racking than the first time, and the rejection hurt that much more. He didn’t bother listening to the message again, shutting his phone off and tossing it to the end of the bed.

Peter’s eyes stung and the back of his throat ached. 

He pretended to be content when he forced himself under the covers, hiding his face as he went to sleep with damp cheeks. 

—

Peter had spent his entire morning building up the courage to confront Professor Stark. He had barely managed to focus enough on his psychology professor’s lecture to take decent notes, couldn’t eat due to the anxious churn in his stomach making him sick, and had to calm himself down from the edge of not one, but two meltdowns in one of the bathrooms in the social sciences building. 

He needed to do this. Not just for him, but for May, for both of them to be able to stay afloat.

The landlord just raised their rent. He couldn’t afford to be passed over for the position.

So he struggled with his focus on classes, managed to avoid setting another fire in a chemistry lab for the second time that semester, and somehow didn’t drive himself completely insane. His leg bounced like he had four springs embedded into his heel during the last twenty minutes of his biochem class before they were dismissed, and he was the first student out the door.

He had practiced what he was going to say, his arguments on why Professor Stark needed to keep him, planned to cover any lingering doubts in his abilities. Sure, he only took the 101 lecture, but he was a quick learner. He could still assist with other lectures, if given the chance to study them beforehand.

And catching the older man off guard in his office played well in his favor, until Professor Stark gestured to one of the chairs Peter stood between and told him plainly, “Sit down.”

His argument, his perfect defense of himself, was shattered. Peter blinked, mind still trying to catch up with the sudden halt of his thought process. “What?”

With a nod to a specific chair, Professor Stark continued, “Sit. You want me to tell you why I cut you loose, right?”

Peter practically threw himself into the chair, flubbing over his, Yes, Mr. Stark. This is what he needed, to know where he went wrong, know what he needed to improve on. If it meant going home with six of Stark’s textbooks or a bruised ego because of the man’s infamous harshness, Peter was fine with that. He could take a shot to his ego.

He expected a little criticism.

What he didn’t expect was Professor Stark to clear his throat, lean over his desk, and fix him with a smirk before saying, “Okay, kitten. I can do that.”

Peter’s brain grinded to a violent halt. The words registered. His brain still refused to process them. 

His first thought, once he could actually think, was That’s inappropriate.

Peter’s face pinched together with a mix of confusion and distaste. He’d heard horror stories of college professors who wanted sex in exchange for perfect grades, or internships, or anything else a student might need to progress academically. Mainly, he’d heard stories from female students, not male students. 

Maybe Professor Stark was one of those teachers, and Peter had given him a bargaining chip by confessing just how serious his situation was. There was no way Peter was going to sleep his way into the position. He valued his pride more than that.

Peter had already thought of running to his advisor and making a report of Stark’s coming onto him, when the voice ran through his head again. The words played on repeat, a familiarity clinging to his tone—

Peter’s heart dropped into his stomach. 

Tony’s smirk deepened, but there was no pleasure in it. Mirthful, he leaned back in his chair and rubbed at his trimmed goatee with one of his hands. The other drummed on the arm of his chair as he waited for Peter to say something.

Peter’s tongue stuck to the top of his mouth. Speaking was a struggle, but somehow he managed to work out a few words, “Oh, my god.”

Tony laughed. His Tony. He looked… less than happy to see him. “You gotta understand the kind of predicament I’m in, yeah? This whole thing we started isn’t, well, good for either of us now.”

Peter’s face burned; he was sure that Tony could see him turning red all the way down to his neck. 

He wished he could focus. He wished he could nod along and agree with everything Tony was saying, but God, it was so difficult to do any of that when he was staring Tony right in the face. All of the faces, the bodies, everything he had fantasized about when they weren’t talked could never have lived up to the man sitting in front of him. Even the grays in his hair were different; they lined his temples, as expected, but there were strands strewn about in the hair he had so carefully styled up and back.

And his voice was just as distracting as it was through a phone speaker.

Peter needed water. Was the A/C in Tony’s office broken?

“Um. Yeah,” he said, still slowly processing Tony’s words. How had he managed to work for the man earlier without getting distracted? Sure, the man’s voice had sounded familiar when he first heard it, but hearing the confirmation that he was exactly Peter thought of when he was at home—

Home. Shit.

“But!” he started, nearly jumping from his seat. Tony started at his outburst, eyes wide and brows high on his forehead. “But, Dad- Um, Tony. Stark. Sir. Professor Stark, please, I need this position. I’ll do whatever you want me to if it means keeping it.”

“Dangerous words in our current situation, kiddo.”

Peter scoffed. “It’s not like anyone knows.”

Tony clicked his tongue and grimaced. 

“Who?” Peter asked, the blush in his cheeks fading to white.

“Dr. Strange.”

“Shit.” Peter put his head in his hands, rubbing patterns into the back of his eyelids. That was exactly what he wanted to hear. Not like he had Dr. Strange’s class the next day, or the following week until finals. How was he going to look the man in the eye now?

He shook his head; he’d cross that bridge when he came to it. Tomorrow, at 10 AM.

“Is…” Peter paused. How would he word this? Slowly, he figured, as he started speaking again, “Is what we’re doing... Is that the reason you want to fire me?”

“Pretty much,” Tony answered with a nod. “There’s only so much tenure can save my ass from.”

Peter swallowed, pretended that the low dip in his stomach wasn’t there. Firing Peter to save himself. Suave, handsome, but an asshole. He sure knew how to pick them.

“So, let’s stop.” Tony’s brows rose again. “The whole, you know, phone thing. The relationship. Whatever you want to call it. I need the job more than I need, um, that.”

Silence. Tony stared at him, face now a blank slate, eyes boring into Peter. He wished he could tell what the older man was thinking, if for nothing but to ease his anxious, pounding heart. His face felt hotter still. He was pretty sure he was beginning to sweat. Tony should get his A/C checked. 

God, Peter wished he would speak already. The silence and scrutiny were killing him.

Tony’s hand came up to his goatee again, rubbing at his stubble and covering his mouth in the meat of his palm. 

“Sound logic,” he said. His hand dropped from his face with a shrug. There was another moment of silence as Tony chewed on his lip and seemed to ponder over Peter’s words. “You really want this job?”

Peter had to push his hair out of his eyes from nodding so vigorously. “Yes.”

Tony tapped his finger on his desk a few times. Peter half-considered leaping over it and demanding an answer. 

“...Fine. It’s yours. On one condition.” Tony held a finger out to him. “You do not use this situation against me, in any capacity. I mean it, no extortion. I’ll fire you immediately.”

“Got it.” Peter nodded. He certainly wasn’t planning on it; it was the last thing he would ever tell anyone outside of their situation. He was dreading Strange’s next lecture. That was already exceeding the amount of people he wanted to know about them.

“Good. I look forward to working with you, Mr. Parker.”

Peter failed at hiding his grin, and he wanted nothing more than to reach across Tony’s— Professor Stark’s desk and throw his arms around his neck. The word Daddy almost slipped from his mouth again when saying his thanks. He caught himself, rushing out of the teacher’s office for his next class. He was already late, but he didn’t care.

He still had the job. At this moment, that was all that mattered to him.

—

Back in his office, Tony ran his fingers through his hair and sighed.

God, he was so fucked.

[writemywaytoyourheart]

Onsra- Chapter 18: Home, Sweet Home. 

Pairing: vampire!jungkook x female reader

Genre: drama, horror, angst, romance

Warnings for this chapter: nothing^^

Word count: 4.3k ( a bit longer as requested lol)

Onsra: ML, Previous

Tag list: @ditttiii @fekitza @jjungkook99 @rubinora 

The ONLY thing that kept me alive long enough to finish this d*mn chapter was the entire Lord of the Rings soundtrack. y’all better like this mofo T-T sweet goodness

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Jungkook wait, I’m scared.” 

You try to pull your ankle back before he can try any funny business, but Jungkook keeps a hold on you. “Y/n, stop moving.” He sighs and looks into your eyes, his reflecting irritation and exasperation. Honestly, this whole thing is just embarrassing. Your ankle is throbbing with pain, so you’re scared for him to touch it, let alone take a dang stick out of it heck no.

Not to mention the fact that you’re still barefoot, since you never grabbed your shoes during the fire last night. Your feet are covered in dirt and dried blood, a couple bruises on the sides of them. They look awfully pathetic when he has them sitting in his lap as he examines your ankle.

Yeah, this is humiliating. 

Jungkook doesn’t pay your anxiety and embarrassment any mind, he just continues to scrutinize the damage. Then, you see him reach behind himself and put a little stone bowl full of water next to him on the ground. You furrow your brows in confusion and point at it.

“Where the heck did you get that thing?”

“I found it.” He states simply.

“You just found it? Like, randomly in a forest?”

“Stop stalling, y/n. Just stay still.”

“I’m not stalling! I’m just wondering where the heck you found water and a bowl in this gosh forsaken forest!” You defend yourself quickly.

Jungkook doesn’t look up from your ankle, “It’s not even a bowl. It’s a rock with a dent in it, idiot. I found a small stream and got some water from it. Happy?” He doesn’t wait for your response before looking up at you and holding his hand out, “Give me a piece of your shirt. Don’t look at me like that. Your shirt is already torn and I’m not about to ruin mine.” You sigh and tear a small part of your t-shirt, where you had torn it last night to use as a rag to cover your mouth during the fire. Jungkook snatches it from you, ignoring your eye roll and immediately dunks it into the tiny ‘bowl’ of water. Once he’s satisfied with how wet it is, Jungkook brings it to the gash on your ankle and wipes around it. He only stops when you hiss in pain and try to pull your ankle back.

“It hurts!”

“Would you rather let it get worse and lose your whole foot?” Jungkook snaps back in annoyance.

You bite your lip but nod in consent for him to continue. Another minute passes of Jungkook being less than gentle with your foot and you spitting out random curses at him from time to time. You feel like he’s smirking at your pain, but you can’t be too sure, seeing as your eyes are blurred with tears.

It feels like a thousand years later when Jungkook finally pulls the now red cloth from your wound and announces he’s done. “Good.” You say firmly and make a move to stand before you stop when Jungkook gives you one of those looks you’ve come to know all too well, ‘you better stay still or I’m really going to kill you’, yeah one of those.

“I told you, I need to get the stick out. Stupid.”

“Stop calling me names.”

“Why should I? They’re all true.”

You give him your best glare and he just stares right back, an eyebrow cocked in amusement. “If you don’t stay still it’s going to hurt more. So, stop moving and let me get this over with.”

“Then why don’t you stop blabbing and do it already...stupid.” You mutter under your breath.

That earns you a small smile; you’re taken aback by how normal he looks when he isn’t scowling. The moment is short-lived though, because the next second your screaming in pain and pulling your ankle back, “Ouch! What are you trying to do?! Shove it in more??” The tears are back full force as your ankle throbs with a heartbeat of intense pain. Jungkook grits his teeth and yanks your ankle back into position, hooking his arm around your leg and turning so his back faces you. All you can see is the top half of your leg and his back. Your ankle is captured on the other side and you frantically try to pull it back.

“No! Stop! Stop! It hurts, don’t touch it! Let me gooo!” You keep hollering and blubbering away while Jungkook just shakes his head and sighs at your shameless tantrum.

“Y/n! Stop!” You freeze at the tone of his voice, your chest rapidly rising and falling as you whimper again, “Please don’t. It hurts.”

Jungkook turns and looks at you again, the look on your face causing something to stir in him. You look like a lost puppy that’s been starved and beaten and thinks he’s about to kick you too, your eyes wide with anxiety and glistening with tears. He knows if he lessens his grip you’ll bolt as fast as you can away from him. How annoying.

It confuses him that he’s still here, dealing with your sorry butt. He’d like nothing better than to walk away and leave you on this rock, letting you deal with your predicament yourself. He’d finally be free of you.

No.

Seokjin would kill him for sure. Skin him alive.

That’s the only reason he won’t leave this instant.

Yeah.

Yeah that’s why.

Then, an idea flits through Jungkook’s mind and he tries not to smirk.

Jungkook takes you by complete and utter surprise when he smiles at you gently. You flinch back as if he’s a lion lunging for its prey. You search his eyes for any sign of aggressiveness and only calm your breathing when you see none.

“It’s okay y/n, just take some deep breaths and it’ll be over in a second. I promise.”

Um…what?

Who in the hecking heck is this now?

You raise your eyebrows and look him up and down. “Why are you suddenly being nice to me?”

“You’re hurt. I’m just trying to help.”

“I don’t trust you.”

“Gee thanks, just shut up and stay still. Come on and man up, y/n.”

“Man up? I don’t think so-“

“Well, woman up then! Fricking seriously.” You laugh quietly at being able to rile him up so easily. Jungkook twitches his nose; irked.

“I’m going to do it now. I really am.”

“Ok-” You cringe before you even feel the first pull. Once Jungkook takes the stick out, you need to hold onto the rock you’re sitting on for dear life. You’re sure you almost blacked out just now. Laying your head down on the rock, you close your eyes and try to think of happy and warm thoughts. Sunsets and romance books, chocolates and kittens. Anything but the throbbing pain in your ankle and not wrapping your hands around his throat and squeezing as hard as you damn well please.

“You good?” You open your eyes to see Jungkook leaning over you, his eyes squinting as he scrutinizes your face. You nod and take a shuddering breath, so much for chocolates and kittens. “I’m fine. I just want to get out of this place and never see another tree as long as I live.” Sitting up, you try not to think about how dizzy you still are.

“Well, I can’t guarantee you that’ll be very long, but…” A smirk paints his expression and you roll your eyes.

So, he can make a joke.  

Jungkook takes your hand and pulls you to a standing position. Once you’re steady on your feet you look down at your ankle; a black cloth wrapped around the wound there. A quick glance at Jungkook’s torn shirt confirms that he did, in fact, ruin his shirt to help you.

…but why?

“We have to get out of here. The bleeding is stopped for now, but the infection already started.” You fidget anxiously at his words.

“How are we supposed to get out? We’re lost and I’m useless. I can’t walk.”

Jungkook kicks the makeshift bowl of water to the side and turns around, crouching slightly.

“Ok, hop on.”

Your cheeks burst into flames at his suggestion. Never in your life have you gotten a piggyback ride from a boy before, not counting your father when you were a small child.

“Uh…are you sure…?” You say hesitantly, eyeing the vampire that turns to face you, a look of exasperation dancing across his features. Jungkook clicks his tongue and turns around once more, crouching even farther to make it easier for you to get on his back.

“Just do what I say. You want to get out of here, right?”

You nod, then realize he can’t see you with his back turned, so you say shyly, “Y-Yes.”

“Well, get on then.” You take a deep breath and lean over him, wrapping your arms tentatively around his shoulders, laying your stomach over his back awkwardly. A yelp escapes your lips when he bumps you up on his back, wrapping his hands around the backs of your thighs. Jungkook pats your knee, a sign to wrap your legs around his waist, which you do slowly, the heat creeping up your neck at the position you never thought you’d find yourself in.

Jungkook sets off into the forest once again, you wrapped around his middle like a koala and red as a tomato.

~

“So, why were you apologizing to me?”

“Hm?” You start at his sudden question, not expecting him to try making small talk. You long since gave up on talking to him.

“A couple hours ago. Before you had your meltdown, you kept apologizing to me, remember?”

Oh yes, you definitely remember.

You just have no desire to discuss this with him right now. Or ever, for that matter.

You know you have a problem with being abandoned. It was drilled into you growing up that you were always the problem, even if you didn’t start the fight. If you talked back at all and upset the other person, everything was your fault. You always ruined everything.

You felt like you had to apologize to Jungkook, because if you didn’t, he would leave you to die in this hellish forest. Suck it up, and you won’t get hurt.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

But this punk doesn’t need to know any of that.

Jungkook shakes his head and sighs, “Fine, don’t tell me.”

“I won’t.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

“Whatever.” Jungkook mumbles grumpily, hiking you up a little to get you further up on his back. You stare at the back of his head, his black hair bouncing every time he takes a step. You can’t help but wonder why his attitude has suddenly changed, a couple hours ago he would have gladly left you for dead in the middle of the forest, the night before he would’ve killed you with his own bare hands. So, why is he carrying you on his back through the forest now?

Is he playing some sort of game?

You hate that you’re being this skeptical towards him when he’s literally trying to help you. But you can’t help it, seeing as just yesterday he yanked you around and hurt you, calling you names and bringing you down. How can someone change so quickly? Didn’t Seokjin say Jungkook wasn’t himself anymore?

That thought halts your breathing, making your chest tighten with anxiety.

Is he trying to make me feel safe, just to turn around and murder me at the last second?

No.

Stop it, y/n.

Stop psyching yourself up over nothing. He probably just feels bad for treating you so horribly before.

Even you don’t believe that...so what’s his game?

You shake your head to clear it, regretting it almost instantly when it makes the dizziness come back full force. You resist the temptation to lay your head on Jungkook’s shoulder, distracting yourself by asking him a question of your own.

“I still don’t understand something.”

“Mm, and what’s that?” Jungkook mutters as he continues to trudge along.

“Last night, those two vampires. You didn’t seem scared of them at all.”

“That’s because I wasn’t.”

“Why? Why did you bother running if they were going to catch up with us and you weren’t afraid of them anyway?”

Jungkook adjusts you on his back again and cocks his head to the side before answering, “Well first of all, those guys were idiots. They weren’t the ones we were running from. They didn’t set the trap.” You furrow your brows in confusion, and Jungkook must sense it from your silence, so he continues.

“Of course, I didn’t know that until I saw them. I stopped because if I didn’t, they would’ve found you.”

Your heart does some weird flippity jumpy thing at his words and you unconsciously tighten your arms around his shoulders. Jungkook doesn’t seem to notice as he goes on, “I was just lucky they happened to be the ones to find us. See, those guys are harmless, to me at least. They just wander around and look for lost humans to suck blood from. They aren’t smart enough to set traps, they just heard us running and came after us.”

You nod at his explanation. Those guys seemed pretty intimidating to you, but you decide not to voice that, seeing as Jungkook would probably use it to hold over your head and mock you for being such a scaredy-cat.

You two continue along in silence for a while until your stomach starts to get nauseous on you to the point that you can no longer ignore its warnings and you tap Jungkook’s shoulder frantically.

“Jungkook. Jungkook I’m gonna puke.”

The vampire freezes at your alarming comment, “What? Get off, get off, get off.” He practically throws you on the floor of the woods. The whole time Jungkook was walking with you on his back, your dizziness never subsided, and the rocking back and forth only made it worse. You two hadn’t even been walking for more than an hour when your empty stomach decided it needed to empty itself even further.

You whine at the harsh contact your butt makes with the hard ground, sending a glare up at him before turning and dry heaving into a patch of crinkled leaves.

“I think I’m dying.” You choke out after a minute of your stomach trying its best to leave your body through your throat and ultimately failing. Your head is spinning like crazy, there’s no way you can move, not even to get on his back again. You groan and swat at the hands trying to pull you up. “I can’t Jungkook. I seriously can’t.”

You hear a heavy sigh leave his mouth but can’t bring yourself to care. You just lay your head on the ground and close your eyes. This is how you’ll go. Nothing spectacular. Accepting your fate, you ignore whatever words are coming out of Jungkook’s mouth now. His words aren’t making any sense anyway, just a bunch of muffled sounds.

No, no just leave me alone. Just let me die. I can’t do it.

The blurry image of green leaves spins in your vision and you close your eyes again, noting that the sensation that your twirling around stops and everything goes silent.

“Y/n? Can you hear me? Wake up.”

Leave me alone. Just let me sleep.

“Y/n? Open your eyes.”

No, get away from me.

You hear a sigh and feel something cold touch your face, making your eyes twitch. Then drops of water wet your chapped lips and you try to force your eyes open.

Water? Is that water?

Two blurry Jungkooks come into view when you open your eyes, they wobble before joining and making one as he stares at you, his brows close together.

“Y/n?” You think you see relief in his eyes, but before you can catch it the relief dissipates and turns into annoyance. “Finally, idiot.”

“What-“

“Shh, don’t talk.” Jungkook squeezes a wet black cloth over your lips, letting the water dribble down your mouth and chin, then he sets the cool rag onto your forehead.

What is going on? Did you make it back to the house?

“You passed out.” Jungkook answers your unspoken question.

So, you’re still in the forest?

Oh hell.

You whine and blink, trying to get your focus back.

“I can’t be in this forest another second, I’m gonna freak out.” You mumble almost incoherently. Jungkook chuckles and helps you sit up slowly, “Well, lucky for you I know where we are.”

“Wait, really??”

“Yeah, to be honest I have no clue how we ended up so far from the house last night. I’d say we’re only about an hour from there now.” You look at him in surprise and start laughing hysterically.

“Well, what are we waiting for?!” Jungkook raises an eyebrow, “Uh, maybe for you to wake up?”

Oh…yeah…right.

You stop laughing and nod, “Ok, I’m fine. Let’s go.” Jungkook shakes his head at you reaching out to him to pick you up. Then he bends down and lets you climb onto his back, “You owe me big time, ya know.”

“Of course. What would you like in return?” You say playfully and roll your eyes.  

“For lugging your lazy butt around the forest for hours? Let me think on it.”

~

You’ve never been so happy to see the blue sky past a break in the trees a few feet ahead of you and Jungkook. The end of this blasted forest at last! You squeal in excitement as Jungkook steps out of the tree line, you still clinging to his back like a baby bear.

Then the excitement is gone, replaced by dread almost instantaneously. You hear Jungkook suck in a sharp breath and your face pales at the sight in front of you. The old mansion is still standing, a miracle in itself; but the whole roof and nearly half of one side of the house is completely gone. Just ashes and rubble sit where the living room and library used to be.

You move to slide off Jungkook’s back, but realize he’s tightened his grip on you. You stay where you are and try to see if you can spot anyone by the house. After a second, Jungkook continues walking slowly toward the house.

“Jungkook? Y/n?” You both jump at the sound of Hoseok’s voice. He’s just coming around from the back of the house, carrying an ax and a small bag. He drops the things he’s holding and runs to the two of you.

“You guys are okay! You had us worried sick! Where on earth were you? Are you hurt?” Hoseok is frantically searching Jungkook for any injuries, much to the irritation of the younger vampire. Jungkook pulls away roughly, ignoring Hoseok’s pout.

“I had to go off after this idiot when she ran into the woods last night. Where’s Seokjin? Is everyone alright?”

Hoseok looks at you, brows creased in confusion, then he nods at Jungkook’s question.

“Yes, everyone is okay. Seokjin went out looking for you two at daybreak when we realized you still hadn’t come back.” Your stomach turns, it must be close to sunset already, so where is Seokjin?

Hoseok smiles warmly at your concerned face, “Don’t worry, y/n. Seokjin will be back by nightfall if he isn’t back before then. We have a rule not to- y/n!” The vampire interrupts himself when he sees your bare feet, one of them wrapped in a piece of cloth from Jungkook’s shirt. “What happened? And why is he carrying you?” He steps away to take in the full picture as if just now noticing that you’re clinging to Jungkook’s back.

“I tripped and hurt my foot.” You say sheepishly.

Hoseok frowns and puts a hand on your forehead, “You don’t look so good, y/n. You’re burning up.” You blink and try to clear your head; it keeps fogging up and you have a pounding headache.

“My head is killing me.” You groan and give in to lying your head on Jungkook’s shoulder with a soft thump. You want to ask Hoseok where Ga-In and Yuri are, but you can’t seem to get the words out. The nausea is coming back too, and you groan again when Jungkook shifts you slightly.

“Jungkook, get her inside now. The rooms are still okay. Quick, go.” Hoseok pushes Jungkook lightly and he takes off across the little field to the mansion, trying to walk as carefully as he can.

All you can comprehend is a pair of arms laying you down on a soft bed, a few frantic words floating around above your head. You can’t grasp the meaning of them though, or who’s saying them. You think you hear a girl’s voice saying something, but you don’t recognize it. All you can see is blackness, as you’ve opted for keeping your eyes closed instead of watching the world spin around you in a nauseating circle.

Then everything goes dead silent.

~

Your body jerks awake at the pain in your ankle, and you sit up with a jolt. You cry out and make to grab for your hurt foot, but a pair of strong hands wrap around your wrists, stopping you. The world slowly starts coming into focus as you blink and see Seokjin sitting in a chair next to your bed, smiling softly at you. A little lamp is on, the only light in the otherwise dark room.

“Hey, y/n. You’re alive.”

“Seokjin? What happened?” You rub at your eyes and wince at the pain in your ankle again while sitting up and scooting back on your bed to rest your head against the wall.

“You were sick.”

“Why?”

“Well, first of all you were dehydrated and exhausted. You hadn’t eaten anything since yesterday afternoon and the infection in your ankle started a fever. After walking all night and day, I guess your body couldn’t take any more.” You nod and rub your eyes again.

“Where’s Jungkook?”

Seokjin smiles knowingly at your question and you look away from his gaze, hating the feeling that he knows your deepest secrets. Jin just laughs quietly and leans down to grab something off the floor.

“Jungkook is okay. I think he’s helping the boys outside.”

You hum nonchalantly and graciously accept the bowl of soup he hands you, “What about Ga-In and Yuri? Do they know I’m back?” The vampire nods again, “Yeah, they’re in the kitchen finishing the soup for everyone.” You look down and see your foot bandaged in white cloths, wrapping around your ankle and heel.

“Thank you. For helping me.”

“Of course. I mean it did need a few stitches, but you’ll be okay.” You nod, deciding not to ask how in blazes he managed to stitch it while you were knocked out.

The door opens then and you look up to see Ga-In and Yuri rush to your side. You laugh at their frantic faces scanning you.

“Gosh, y/n! You scared us half to death!” Ga-In cries and pulls you into her chest, almost spilling the soup while crushing your head into her bosom. You laugh and pull away, feeling Yuri give your leg a gentle squeeze.

“You guys are so dramatic, I was just a bit tired is all.”

“A bit tired? Y/n, when Jungkook brought you into the house you looked like a lifeless doll, all colorless and limp. Don’t ever do that again. What on earth made you run last night?” Yuri speaks up worriedly.

You recount everything that happened with them, the fear and shock on their faces making you regret acting out so rashly.

“Well, thank goodness Jungkook had enough sense to go after you.” Ga-In clicks her tongue, not noticing the look of offense crossing your face.

Right, Seokjin never told them about Jungkook and being too far gone.

“Well, you need to get some real sleep y/n. I’ll let you girls settle in for the night. Sleep well.” Seokjin stands and stretches his limbs before heading to the door, closing it on his way out.

You finish your soup at the urging of the other two girls, then let them get you settled into bed. You're out like a light before your head even hits the pillow.

That night, you dream of Jungkook.

He’s walking in the forest you two were lost in, smiling when he turns and sees you following him. Then he reaches out his hand, entwining his fingers in yours when you give him your hand. You stumble when Jungkook pulls you closer, tripping on the branches littering the ground. He catches you and you place your hands on his chest, smiling up at him.

“You okay?” He whispers softly and you blush. “I have something for you.” He says, and you give him a questioning look. Then, Jungkook pulls away and hands you a tiny white flower, the same one you were looking at just the other day. You look up to thank him, then notice in a panic that he’s leaning in closer, and closer. And then.

“Y/n? Wake up, I’m starving.”

What?

“Y/n, come on~ I’m hungry and I think Jin is making pancakes again.”

No no no no noooooooo.

Your eyes fly open to see Ga-In leaning over you, a smile spreads on her face when she sees you awake. You panic for a second, thinking she knows what you just dreamt about.

Dreamt.

Dream.

A dream?

Dangflabbit and all.

“Come on y/n. Get up! You need to rebuild your energy.” You nod but you’re not really paying attention to her. Because you just had a dream about Jungkook. And you liked it.

You’re so screwed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

a/n: I still have 15 mins until midnight haHA I kept my Friday promise bitzes. ok good night.

[yesloverboy]

Never Let You Go (mgk! Tommy Lee x Reader)

Requested: Anon

“I have 2 requests but they are completely up to your interpretation anyways, so for one like tommy taking care of his drunk girlfriend or friend or whatever you want and then another request would be tommy (lol love my tommy) where like the reader and tommy are friends and they’re at a bar and readers ex is there and shit goes down. Hopefully those make sense, do what you want!”

Note: Listen, I know it’s been a hot minute but my love for Tommy and Crüe will never die so thanks for being patient! Love y’all bunches and I will be posting about my updated writing schedule shortly. 

word count: 2,712

[Warnings: blood, violence, cheating, toxic relationships, swearing, and alcohol mention.]

permanent tags: @colsonbakersnoseringmain, @lululovesgwtw, @kingbouji3

mötley tags: @lauravic 

tommy tags: @chlobo6

 After your breakup, you were almost certain that not even all the alcohol in the world could drown your problems. Heartache left an unfillable void in your chest that wanted to suck every last bit of your happiness deep down inside, never to be seen again. Luckily, your best friend, Tommy, was determined to spend the entire weekend proving you wrong. According to Tommy, alcohol can drown any problem if you’re with the right people– and he just so happens to be your favorite person in the entire world.

 If someone were to ask you weeks– maybe even days –ago, you would’ve claimed that your boyfriend Kyle, of three and a half years, held the position of favorite in your heart. That is, until you found him grunting and thrusting into a woman that most definitely wasn’t you. Hell, she wasn’t even a woman you knew. As it turned out, your beloved boyfriend had been fucking other women on and off since they day you’d met.

 Teary-eyed and utterly brokenhearted, you went to the only person you knew who could hold you together at a time like this– Tommy. In his usual fashion, Tommy had greeted your desperate raps on his door with a goofy grin and open arms. However, once his blue eyes met your red-rimmed ones, his chipper mood quickly dissolved into concern.

 “Hey button, what’s the matter?” Tommy asked, using his long arms to envelop you in a tight bear hug. Button had been his nickname for you ever since grade school. Tommy had always been bad with names, and the rainbow buttons of your first-day-of-school overalls sealed your place in Tommy’s memory from that day forward.

 You had prepared what you were going to tell Tommy on the cab ride over but, the moment he uttered your nickname, everything fell to pieces. Big, fat tears welled up in your eyes, dripping onto Tommy’s shirt like heavy rain. To your relief, he didn’t press any more questions your way. Instead, he shushed you softly and tucked you through the doorway with a protective arm.

 It wasn’t long before Tommy had you curled on the couch, wrapped tightly in a quilted blanket with your head resting comfortably in his lap. He gave you time to cry out the rest of your frustration as he ran his long fingers through the snags in your hair. Tommy didn’t say much, even if seeing you in crisis mode devastated him to the core. You were always the strong one of the two of you, and he wasn’t entirely sure how to keep it together while you crumbled at his feet.

 After a while, your sobs eventually devolved into pitiful sniffles, allowing you to catch your breath enough to finally speak. When you finally mustered up the courage to tell Tommy what your boyfriend– well, ex-boyfriend – had done to you, his blood began to boil incessantly beneath his skin. Tommy wanted Kyle dead. Hell, deader than dead. If you hadn’t just been sobbing in his arms for the past hour, he’d already be on the phone with Nikki to plot your ex’s demise.

 Tommy physically couldn’t comprehend how a slimeball like Kyle could possibly have it in him to cheat on a girl like you for so long. You were patient, kind, and positively beautiful in Tommy’s eyes. For most people, a guy like Tommy is a lot to handle, but you never asked him to shrink himself in the presence of other people. You loved Tommy’s ‘too-much-ness’, as you affectionately called it, and wanted nothing more than to bottle it up and save some for the rainy days. Unfortunately, this day had been the rainiest of them all.

 Although he would never admit it, you were Tommy’s dream girl, and he would do whatever it took to make you feel like your old self again. Even if it were only for a few, fleeting moments in between bloodshot eyes and broken cries.

...

 It’s that same desire to make you happy that has Tommy dragging you to some sleazy new wave club halfway across town. You and Tommy are renowned metalheads in the L.A. music scene, but you can’t deny the way that the heavy synth and pounding bass lifts your spirits from the inside. As much as you despise its trendy nature, the appeal of cheap pop music isn’t entirely lost on you, and going to the last place anyone would expect to see you is exactly what you need right now.

 The club is packed full of patrons, each demonstrating new and interesting ways to incorporate nylon and neoprene into their glowing ensembles. You and Tommy undoubtedly stick out like sore thumbs, but you can’t help the grin that spreads across your face as he takes your hands and swings you across the dancefloor. You Spin Me Round blares through the sound system, causing the light-up floor to vibrate obnoxiously beneath your feet.

 Tommy picks you up and begins spinning you around in his arms at a dizzying pace, causing you to erupt into a fit of cringes and laughter. The two of you haven’t even made it to the bar yet and you’re already giggling and shoving each other like a pair of carefree idiots. Tommy’s childlike sense of fun and comforting grasp bandaids the gaping hole in your chest for a moment, but the fear of your all-encompassing sadness leaking out again makes you shiver beneath the strobing lights.

 As if he can read your mind, Tommy’s roughhousing ceases so he can stop and look at you. His dark blue eyes scan yours for any sign of an imminent breakdown on the horizon, but you quickly plaster on a brave face. You have no reason to hide the wave of sadness passing through you, but figure there’s no time like the present to practice looking fine in front of those you love.

 Before Tommy can ask if you’re okay, you bounce on your tiptoes and grasp at his shoulder for leverage. “I’m going to get us some drinks, okay?” you project your weak voice into Tommy’s ear, practically yelling over the pulsating music.

 Tommy seems to get the idea and offers you a weak smile as you turn towards the bar. Stay here, you mouth and Tommy shoots a reassuring thumbs up in your direction. With a shaky breath, you maneuver your way through the energetic crowd, doing your best to scout out the farthest available bartender. Initially, the crowd and the noise did a great job of clouding your memory, but now you needed a little extra help from some good, old fashioned hard liquor.

 You belly up to the bar, relieved that the music is just quiet enough in this corner of the club that you don’t have to strain your voice as much. Giving the bartender your best fake smile, you order yourself a double vodka soda and a Jack and Coke for Tommy. It feels like it’s going to be a long night, and you could use all the help you can get to even dream of keeping up with Tommy’s excessive drinking.

 Just as you’re about to grab the glasses and search for your lanky companion, you sense an all too familiar presence at your side.

“Y/N? Baby, is that you?”

 You suck in a breath, the sickly sweet tone of Kyle’s voice driving an icy stake into your palpitating heart. No, no, no, no, you flounder, this can’t be happening. You turn around, mouth running dry as soon as your eyes meet the confident gaze of your ex-lover. It was a look you had seen a hundred times before, and yet the familiarity of it all is exactly what’s bringing you to your knees.

 Kyle takes a step forward and you immediately find yourself taking an instinctive step back, the base of your spin quickly bumping harshly into the bar’s edge. Kyle rests a casual hand on the bar next to your hip, not exactly pinning you to the spot, but making it more than apparent that he doesn’t want you to leave just yet.

 “Thought that was you, sweetheart, I’d recognize that tight ass anywhere,” Kyle purs, looking down on you with a predatory gleam in his eyes, “Miss me yet?”

 The ice in yours and Tommy’s drinks rattles in its glasses, giving away the tremor in your nervous hands. You want to yell, scream, cry– anything, but you find yourself frozen to the spot. The memory of Kyle on top of that mystery woman in your shared bed replays in your head like a threat, reminding you that he never really loved you at all. Feeling small and pathetic in front of the man that abused your trust for so long, you silently pray that the floor might swallow you up.

 You grit your teeth as hot tears blur your vision, but do not speak. A sob starts to build in your throat and, before you’re able to release it, a flash of movement catches your eye. Looking past Kyle, you’re relieved to find Tommy storming over to the scene with bared teeth and clenched fists.

 “Hey asshole!” Tommy growls, jerking Kyle’s shoulder back in an effort to yank him away from your trembling form. The look of overwhelming fear and anxiety in your eyes fans the fire in Tommy’s chest, and it takes all of his strength not to drag your ex to the floor right then and there. In all your years of knowing Tommy, you never imagined he could ever look this furious and you find yourself getting scared.

 You aren’t scared of Tommy, no, you could never be– you were scared for Kyle.  

 Kyle just laughs and brushes at his lapels for show, raising his hands in mock surrender, “Easy there, man. I was just about to ask my girl if she wanted a ride home, is all. Isn’t that right, hon?”

 The cockiness in Kyle’s voice turns your stomach as he looks back at you expectantly, silently willing you to comply. Your eyes dart between him and Tommy, and you can already picture how the next couple of minutes are going to unfold.

 Tommy steps directly into your ex’s personal space, the visible height difference making Kyle shift his jaw nervously. To anyone passing by, Kyle probably appeared to be in total control, but you knew him well enough to recognize the look on his face. He’s in deep shit, and he knows it.

 “Funny you call her that, Kyle,” Tommy spits, his voice dripping with venom as he presses an accusatory finger into Kyle’s chest. “Make no mistake, I heard you had a girl– actually, a long list of girls. But Y/N? Yeah, she ain’t one of them. Never was.”

 Kyle laughs nervously, puffing out his chest in a weak attempt to seem taller. “Is that right? Then what is she, then? Your girl?”

 “And what if she is? What the fuck are you going to do about it?”

 Tommy’s face is only a few inches away from Kyle’s, the tension in the air so palpable that even the bartender across the way seems to be frozen it. The bass from the dancefloor thumps ominously in the distance, its hollow thud matching the heaviness of your heartbeat.

 To your surprise, Kyle is the first to relent. Casting you a bitter glance, he shoves Tommy’s chest away from his and begins backing slowing out of the room. His eyes never leave Tommy’s, watching him with the same caution as a zookeeper getting ready to feed a hungry lion. You breathe a sigh of relief, but it comes far too soon.

 “Fine, have her,” Kyle hisses, “she’s a lousy lay, anyways.”

 The moment the insult left your ex’s lips, his fate was sealed. Tommy’s restraint melts away as he lunges forward, his fist swiftly connecting against Kyle’s nose with a sickening crack. Blood spurts out from Kyle’s face and onto the glowing floor like a broken spigot, instantly causing your stomach to flip queasily. Even in the low lighting you can see splotches of ruby red seeping into the fabric of his stark white shirt.  

 Kyle stumbles backward, falling disoriented to the floor. He cries out in agony but Tommy continues to stalk forward, relentlessly hunting him into a corner like some kind of feral animal. You know it can only get uglier from here and, as much as you’ve enjoyed seeing Kyle eat his words, you really don’t want to add bailing Tommy out of jail to your to-do list.

 Before Tommy can cock back his fist for another hit, you catch his arm. The glasses you were previously grasping in your hands clatter noisily to the floor, the watered down alcohol and soda pooling lazily at your feet.

 “Tommy, that’s enough,” you warn, but the words are cushioned by tenderness you feel for him. All ever Tommy wanted to do was shelter you from all the bad things in the world, and you’d be lying if you couldn’t admit that he did it well.

 With an angry sigh, Tommy begrudgingly allows you to pull him to your side. Snaking his arm protectively around your shoulders, he frowns slightly as you shiver beneath his touch. It pains him to see you this way, shaking with anxiousness in the presence of a man you used to give all your love to– a love that he didn’t even deserve. Without thinking Tommy presses a gentle kiss to the top of your head, the touch so faint you almost miss it.

 “I’ve got you, button,” Tommy whispers, his voice barely audible over the music. Your heart somersaults in your chest as you gaze up at Tommy, your watery eyes connecting with his soft blues. Even panting and red-faced from his encounter with your ex, he still has the same happy face that drew you to him all those years ago.

 Without a second thought, you lace your fingers with Tommy’s, holding his arm in place as it rests on your frame. “Let’s go home,” you sniffle, nuzzling his bruised knuckles with the side of your tear-stained cheek.

 You lead Tommy out of the club, leaving Kyle moaning pathetically in a pool of his own blood. Not even a bartender or a bouncer cared to bat an eye at his pitiful display, and you can’t help but wonder if he would look the same after suffering a broken nose. Kyle may have left a permanent stain on your heart, but Tommy made sure he wouldn’t be able to so much as look in the mirror without remembering what he had done to you.

 The summer air is balmy outside the club as you and Tommy await the next available cab. You stand in comfortable silence, your form still pressed firmly against his side as he puffs on a cigarette absentmindedly. Tommy’s free hand curls around the ends of your hair, the small, intimate gesture causing you to blush.

 “So,” you say finally, breaking the silence, “your girl, huh?”

 Tommy’s eyes widen, his blue irises swimming in orbs of white. “Oh, uh, that? That was nothing– just, uh, don’t worry about it–” he stammers, his face flushing pink with embarrassment.

 With a grin, you rise to your tiptoes and place a gentle kiss on Tommy’s cheek, stunning him into silence. “Someday,” you whisper, “Maybe not today, but someday soon.”

 Your words tumble through the night air like a promise, intertwining with Tommy’s ever visible heartstrings and grasping tightly. Tommy always fell for girls hard and fast, but with you it was different. His love for you only grew with each passing moment, embedding itself in every look and every action until it all culminated into a single punch. You were what he had always been looking for, and he was exactly what you had been missing all along.

 Tommy holds you tight for the rest of the evening, playing with your fingers on the cab ride home to eventually tangling his legs with yours as the two of you collapse in a heap on his couch. No matter what happens, no matter how long it takes– Tommy would be yours forever, and forever isn’t nearly long enough.

Masterlist

[damienthepious]

hey, Lizard Kissin’ Tuesday Crew. we’re finally back on real, actual Second Citadel content, huh? But. here’s the thing. not even that can put me off my bullshit. How do y’all feel about a chapter two?

Scattered On My Shore (Chapter 2)

[Ch 1] [ao3] [Ch 3] [Ch 4] [Ch 5] [Ch 6] [Ch 7] [Ch 8] [Ch 9] [Ch 10] [Ch 11] [Ch 12] [Ch 13] [Ch 14] [Ch 15] [Ch 16] [Ch 17] [Ch 18] [Ch 19]

Fandom: The Penumbra Podcast

Relationship: Lord Arum/Sir Damien/Rilla, Sir Damien/Rilla

Characters: Rilla, Lord Arum, Sir Damien

Additional Tags: Second Citadel, Lizard Kissin’ Tuesday, Pre-Relationship, (for the three of them. it’s established r/d), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Injury, Injury Recovery,  Hurt/Comfort,  (this will also be), Enemies to Lovers, (for damien and arum eventually lol)

Fic Summary: Strange things wash up out of the lake near Rilla’s hut, on occasion. But this monster… this monster is certainly the strangest.

Chapter Summary: The monster should be on the mend. There are, however, one or two complications.

Chapter Notes: This chapter deals with a lot of medical talk, there's some mention of blood and more specific descriptions of injury, and description of something close to surgery. There is also some talk in this that hints at some mild suicidal ideation, so if you’re sensitive to that tread with caution. Also if anyone with any knowledge of actual real life medical stuff reads this i am desperately sorry, i know virtually nothing. Forgive me for my nonsense.

~

It’s difficult to really stabilize the monster. And of course it is- Rilla is essentially paddling with her hands over here, she’s reduced to guesswork (she hates guesswork) and trial and error (which is slightly less irritating, but it’s certainly too goddamn risky when it comes to trying to save a life) and his body is already so strange that it’s hard to figure out what’s actually damage and what’s just inherent to him.

One of his four (four) wrists is broken, but she notices that late because his wrists turn so strangely in the first place (there must be a purpose to that; maybe he’s partially arboreal? That sort of range of motion would be useful for- no, focus, focus, Rilla-) and she doesn’t catch the jagged slackness of one among the four until he winces through trying to move it during one of his rare moments of consciousness.

That, too, is hit and miss, how aware he is at any given moment. It’s difficult to find a sedative that works- she doesn’t know much about lizard sedation, let alone pseudo-lizard-snake-bug-dragon (potentially ashdragon, specifically) sedation, and he wakes at unexpected moments. Unexpected, and he is often still near-delirious when he rouses, still snapping ineffectually with his eyes rolling in instinctive panic and/or pain. Very, very occasionally he comes around to lucid, or close to lucid, and then he always fixes her with that frightened, suspicious violet gaze.

She tries to use those opportunities when they arise. If he can answer questions about his pain, she can at least get a better idea of what still needs mending. Or- she would get a better idea, if the stubborn ass would answer any of her questions without complaining or deflecting or, yet again, complaining.

“Your attention is both unwanted and unneeded, little human, and the very instant that I- ha,” he bursts into a whine, his throat whirring sharply as he pants, lifting a clawed hand to press weakly at his midsection.

“That one still hurts, then?”

“All of it h-hurts, you idiot.”

“But the pain there is sharper? More acute?”

He hisses, then snaps his teeth ineffectually in her direction. “I- I will not be patronized,” he says in a snarl, and Rilla rolls her eyes and gently finishes re-wrapping his wrist.

“Okay, okay,” she agrees gently. “Now, don’t move that any more than you have to, understood?”

Terrible patient. Just- abysmally bad.

Though, oddly, he hasn’t made any move to actually hurt her.

She had been expecting things to get fairly bad on that front, if she’s being honest. Right at the start, when he was barely, barely conscious, like absolutely tongue-lolling out of it, she obviously wasn’t worried about attack beyond just accidentally catching herself on his limp claws.

But even as he comes more aware, even as he complains bitterly and tries, with unpredictable frequency and an utter lack of success or self-preservation, to slip from his bed and towards either the door or the window, he hasn’t tried to hurt her. He hasn’t tried to bite, though he snaps his teeth at her pretty much every time he’s awake. He hasn’t tried to claw her, though he pushes her hands away with a scowl when he’s lucid enough to do so.

It’s just odd, honestly. Not that she’s complaining. She’d rather not have to don falconer’s gloves just to redress his broken wrist or to check his pulse.

“I do not need to be mmf-”

He cuts off as she presses the cup against his mouth, burying her smile in a stubborn frown.

“You can barely lift your arms, let alone a glass. Drink. I don’t care if you’re embarrassed, you need to hydrate. Losing blood is no joke.”

“And certainly you care about my hydration,” he says with a sneer, his teeth clinking against the clay. “You expect me to believe-”

“I expect you to believe that I’ve barely gotten any sleep in the last two days trying to keep you from dying, and I believe that you’re going to drink from this damned cup right now, yeah, actually.” She blows her frown out like a candle and smiles bright and dangerous instead. “Drink. Now. And shut up.”

He sneers, but she presses the cup against his mouth again and his tongue flicks out and he blinks, and she sees the moment the big stubborn idiot realizes how thirsty he is, and then with very, very bad grace he lets her tip the cup until he can take a few long, slow swallows, his entire frame sagging in relief. He sighs when the cup is drained, and she can tell that he’s drained, too. More tired than she expects, at this point, but honestly it’s hard to tell with a monster. He’s half-dozing again before she’s lowered the cup.

He doesn’t tell her that he’s cold. That one is infuriating, actually. Might have something to do with the excessive fatigue, which she has to fold into her theories and speculations. She should have guessed, too, from the way he always unconsciously seems to lean into her touch. He gets furious when he notices himself doing so, and she’d been distracted from the actual possible causes of that by the way his snout wrinkles when he’s embarrassed. It’s- almost cute, in a weird sort of way.

Or it would be, if his frill didn’t try to flare when he’s embarrassed, too. It’s still torn, and it’s a very difficult part of the lizard to bandage, so every time he moves it without meaning to (partially conscious motion, or at least partially conscious control- he can move it at will, she thinks, but it also moves reactively, maybe in a similar way to blinking when startled), he exacerbates the edges of the tears, delays the progress of his recovery at least in that one small way for that much longer.

The cold, though: she notes his subconscious leaning towards her own skin, at first thinks that’s just some natural, biological response, and of course she’s warmer than him and she assumes that warmth would be soothing for a lizard-type creature. She notes the way he tenses when the sheets of the cot are pulled away from him for the purpose of checking his injuries and redressing, and she assumes mostly that it’s just more of the embarrassment that he seems so prone to, more than anything. She puts the pieces together when he sighs in a rather dramatically satisfied way as she’s pulling the sheets back over him, though, and she blinks down as he eyes her suspiciously.

“Wait- hang on. Have you been cold this whole time?”

He frowns, ducking his head and burying his chin in the thin cloth. “Does it matter?”

Her mouth hangs open, too shocked by the stupidity of the question to even answer for a long moment. A really, really long moment, actually. She stands up, and she leaves the room before the words find her again, because obviously, obviously-

She comes back with an armful of covers and quilts and he eyes her in alarm as she clomps back to the bedside and dumps the entire pile onto the cot, onto his legs, where her point will be made without the added gentle weight potentially pressing on his injuries.

“There,” she says, frowning. “Saints, I could have warmed you up ages ago if you only told me, you idiot.” She reaches into the pile and starts rearranging, layering the covers over him with systematic attention, the softer sheets lower and closer to him, the warmer heat-trapping layers on top.

“You- little doctor do you really believe this necessary?”

“If you’re cold it could be exacerbating your lethargy, which could interfere with your recovery,” she says with sharp look. “Or, for all I know, it could be masking other symptoms. Next time, if something hurts or if there’s a way I can make you more comfortable, tell me.”

She pokes him in the tip of his snout lightly to emphasize her words, and he snarls automatically though his expression is more sheer surprise than anything, and he looks like he’s already settling into the heat, drifting sleepily down.

“I- I-”

“Don’t get embarrassed, don’t get all haughty, just ask. That’s what I’m here for. I can’t help you if you don’t let me.”

“Could have fooled me,” he mutters, and she flicks him in the snout again. He- laughs, then, a breathy and stunned sort of nose, before he lifts a clumsy hand to rub the offended point. “You are absurd,” he says, and he sounds a little impressed.

“And you,” she says smugly, “aren’t cold anymore.”

Eventually, after every injury she’s certain of is at least somewhat accounted for, wrapped, disinfected, dealt with, she starts to feel like it’s just a game of waiting for his body to start to fix itself-

But days later, he doesn’t seem to be improving. Even when he comes out of the sedation, his fatigue and his pain are still severe, and it almost seems like he’s more confused than before just after waking. His breathing continues to grow more shallow, more labored, and his arms have taken to wracking spasms. It was just rare, at first, but the frequency is increasing. Muscle spasms, difficulty breathing, lethargy and confusion-

Most troubling: his scales are developing patches of sickly purplish red. Subtle, at first, and difficult to notice among the rest of his dark green and black mottling, but once she notices the first one slowly discoloring his upper left pectoral, she notices the rest fairly soon.

Symptoms suggest a likely cause of infection. Possibly septicemia. Potentially lethal, when he should, by rights, be on the mend.

Complication regarding that potential diagnosis: Rilla has already started the monster on antibiotics specifically to combat a burgeoning infection in one of the scrapes on his arm, one that was pretty wretched before she got her hands on it. So, if any of his other injuries managed to get infected before she had the chance to clean and wrap them, her treatments should already be mitigating it. This, however, is progressing instead of healing.

Which means that Rilla must have missed something.

Obviously that prospect is infuriating, but Rilla’s not going to deny facts just because they’re inconvenient. Somewhere, somehow, she made a mistake. She’ll have to fix that mistake if she’s going to make any of this better.

She is systematic. She redresses his wounds, carefully noting the progression of his recovery with each (to a one: slow), looking for evidence of discoloration, of odd smells or discharge, looking for anything at all more amiss than just the injuries themselves, anything that might prove to be the cause of the lizard’s lack of progress.

(He hasn’t given up. She knows that, at least. Knows that isn’t a possible cause. For all his complaints and sarcastic pleas for her to just end his humiliation, he is struggling towards life with a fervor, she can see it. There’s something in his eyes- some fire, maybe, and Rilla knows that he hasn’t given up. He hasn’t- and she won’t either.)

One of the injuries on his midsection, a sloppy claw wound or possibly a bite from a strange angle, catches her attention. His progress is slow all around, but this one- it almost looks worse that it did when she dressed it. The edges haven’t even begun to knit back together, and it hasn’t quite stopped bleeding in a slow, sullen sort of way.

While he’s out cold, she examines the area more closely, pressing incredibly careful fingers around the wound, taking samples of the blood to compare to others she’s taken in the last few days, trying to decide if she can actually distinguish necrotic scales from just damaged ones with her current base of knowledge, but when she’s probing with her fingers she feels-

Something. She doesn’t want to press any harder than it takes just to feel the shape, but there is definitely something very wrong in this particular injury. Something hard, and out of place. A piece of broken rib, maybe? No- no she doesn’t think it’s that. Maybe something more malicious- her brain leaps to arrowhead but it’s not that kind of wound, of course. Speculation is rarely helpful, though, and she knows that if she wants this injury (and hopefully the rest) to actually begin to improve, she’s going to have to-

Well. It’s essentially going to be surgery.

The next time he wakes, he’s even weaker. She can tell by the way the nictitating membranes stay flipped over his eyes defensively, fogging his bright violet back to a soft, concerning lavender. By the way the hand he lifts to bat at her misses her wrist entirely. By the way he doesn’t even manage to pretend not to lean his cheek into her palm when she cups his face to make him look at her.

“Wh… human, what are you…”

“I know you don’t want to talk about what happened to you,” she says, voice firm but gentle, and after a moment he tenses. “I’m not going to ask, don’t worry, but I do need to ask-”

“Not going to- to tell you anything-”

“Is there any chance that whatever attacked you could have left something behind in one of your wounds? The tip of a claw, or a tooth, or horn? Anything like that?”

His brow furrows, and he finally seems to focus on her fully, his foggy eyes flicking between her own. “It… it is possible, human, why-”

“Is there any chance that there might be a poison or toxin involved as well?”

The membranes slide away from his eyes, finally, and he stares at her with narrowed violet diamonds as he pulls his face away from her hand. “Yes,” he says. “Yes, that is possible.” He inhales deeply, and the breath shakes out of him. “This protracted weakness. You believe-”

“It appears that there’s some foreign object stuck in one of your wounds, and you’re showing signs of infection or something worse,” she says, matter-of-fact. “I suspect it’s the cause of why you’ve been improving so slowly, and why it’s seemed like you’re about to start a backslide.”

“A foreign… object,” he repeats in a hiss. “Excellent. My injuries were… obviously not extensive enough already.”

“The point is,” Rilla says, sighing, “that I think you’re going to continue to deteriorate, unless the object is removed.”

He stares at her, blinks slowly, then raises one ridged eyebrow.

“Then it seems… your path is clear, does it not?” He pauses. “Unless, perhaps, this is precisely the excuse you were searching for, to allow the monster to die with as little effort-”

“Don’t be an ass,” she says, quiet but sharp. “I’ve been treating you, and that started when you were barely alive, let alone conscious. Obviously I didn’t ask permission for any of that. I couldn’t. But this- this is gonna be surgery. I’ll have to sedate you, and anything like that- there’s always a risk of something going wrong. And it- it’s different, now. You’re awake. You know what’s going on. You know that I’m not trying to hurt you.”

He scoffs, but he doesn’t interrupt.

“I can ask, this time. If I don’t try to remove it, you’ll probably get worse, but there’s also a chance that trying to remove it could… could go wrong. So,” she straightens her spine, curls her lip into a wry half-smile, and meets the monster’s eye. “Do you want me to try? If you decide not to, I can- I can try more aggressive pharmaceutical methods, but to be entirely honest I’m not optimistic that there’s anything I can change on that front that will make a difference, and-”

“Wh-what are you doing?”

Rilla blinks, watching the suspicious twisting of his face. “What do you mean?”

“Asking, human, what are you asking for? Why pretend as if you care about the input of a monster?”

“Be… because I do?”

He scoffs again. “Ridiculous. Don’t be absurd, if you think you can manipulate me into-”

“Hey, hey-” she reaches out, her fingers just barely, barely brushing the scales of his shoulder and startling him into a wordless hiss. “Don’t work yourself up. You’re already exhausted, you don’t want to make yourself even more tired.”

“I am tired, human, of you pretending as if-”

“I have a name, you know.”

He flinches, lips pressing together as he glares at her sulkily. “I do not care. And I do not care what you do with me, either. I will likely die either way, so I may as well leave it in the hands of the universe, even if the universe is acting through such absurd means.”

Rilla frowns, her heart pulling a little. “I’m not going to let you die. Not if I can do anything about it. Please, just- tell me what you want me to do.”

He clenches his jaw tight, still frowning and not quite looking at her. “I told you. Do as you like.”

“No. No, that's not how this is going to work.” She frowns, brow furrowing stubbornly, and she meets his sharp eyes until he quails, glancing away. “What do you want?”

He swallows, ducks his head, and she can see the turning of the gears in his head for a long moment.

“I… I would rather die quick than slow, little human. If you believe there is some poison in me, and the attempt to remove it may destroy me, I would rather be destroyed in the attempt than in some painful, protracted helplessness.” He pauses, then aims his sharp, tired eyes up at her again. “There. You have your answer. Act as you will.”

“Okay,” Rilla says, and then she sighs. “Okay. That- honestly I’m glad you feel that way. And- and it’ll be better if we do this sooner rather than later. I’ll have to prepare a little bit, but- is that okay?”

“I would rather not waste time putting it off, yes,” he agrees in a drawl, looking away again.

“I’ve-” Rilla pauses. “I’ve been meaning to ask. It- I’ve been feeling pretty damn rude, actually, just- what’s your name?”

He blinks, eyes wide with something like panic. “What?”

“Your name. I’m not just going to call you monster if there’s something else I should be calling you. And-”

And this might be the last chance she has, to ask. If things go wrong.

She can see the moment he realizes her thoughts, the morbidity of them, and something like resignation slips into his expression. Not exactly the desired effect. She wishes he didn’t seem so agreeable to the concept of dying, but-

“Fine. Fine, if you care so very much. I am Lord Arum, he who rules the Swamp of Titan’s Blooms. If you must call me anything, you may call me that.”

“Lord, huh?”

“Indeed,” he hisses, narrowing his eyes.

“Seems pretty formal, considering.”

“Indeed,” he repeats, more snarl in his tone, and she laughs.

“Okay, okay, formal, then. You may call me Amaryllis of Exile, oh Lord of the Swamp. Pleasure to formally meet you.”

His frown deepens. “Pleasure,” he hisses under his breath with a scoff. “Now. May we get this done? If you are so very concerned with my well-being as you claim, certainly you should not delay.”

“Yeah,” she says with a sigh, and then she stands. “Yeah, I know. If you’re ready, I can put you under.”

“As ready as I expect I will be,” he mutters as he watches her cross the room to fetch the sedative.

It’s a little unsettling, actually, how close he watches her as she draws the proper dose into the syringe, as she returns to the side of his cot.

“Okay,” she says, quiet with his eyes on her. “Ready, Arum?”

He scowls at his name in her voice, at the distinct lack of his title, maybe. He still nods, though, after a moment. “Do as you will, human.”

“I’ll do everything I can,” Rilla says, and he closes his eyes even before she injects him with the sedative. “Hang in there for me, okay?”

“As if I have a choice,” Arum says, and he must have already been only hanging on to the waking world with the tips of his claws, because he barely makes it through the sentence before his head slumps to the side, his breaths evening out.

Rilla takes a deep breath, stares down at the monster in her care, and then she turns to prepare what she’ll need to get this job done.

~

Rilla is so utterly focused on the monster beneath her hands that she does not register the noise in her front room. She hears it: the familiar creak of her door, the noises of footsteps approaching, but her eyes are fixed on the injury that is her current dilemma, fixed on the instrument she is using so very, very delicately to try to pull what her revised estimate assumes must be a broken piece of talon from between this monster’s ribs.

She does not register the noise. She doesn’t even register the much closer noises, the familiar voice, until there is a light knocking at the door to her exam room.

Even then she barely understands, through the buzz of her exhausted focus. She’s so close, she can feel the edges of the curved piece of sharpness that’s pierced him, and if she can only get the angle of her tool just right, if she can only get a little bit of grip, she’ll be able to pull it out. This is the source of the infection; Rilla is sure of that. Poisoned talons or envenomed fang, a tip left behind, bleeding more and more tired pain through his body. If she can just get it out, her other treatments will finally have the chance to make an impact, will finally be afforded the foothold they need to really help him.

The knock comes again, and Rilla mutters something wordless under her breath and she absolutely can’t pull her eyes away. She almost has it. Almost. The blood is making everything slippery but she can see a darker shade among it too and she needs to get this out of him, she just needs to, and she’s almost there-

The door opens. It was not locked.

“Rilla, my heart, you failed to answer and I-”

Rilla feels a very distant twinge of worry, but she’s still so damned close and she can swear she feels her tool catch a grip, just barely. She can’t afford to lose her focus, not now-

“A monster.” Damien’s voice is… utterly devoid of inflection. “Rilla- my Amaryllis- remove yourself from that creature and I shall resolve the situation in an instant-”

“’n the middle of something, Damien,” she mutters, and there is sweat on her forehead and she can’t pull her eyes away, not for him and not for anything. “Outta my exam room now.”

“That is a monster,” Damien repeats, and now there is a tone in his words. Dark, terrified, furious. With her? She can’t tell. Doesn’t really care at the moment, if she’s being honest. “Move away from it and I shall slay it for you.”

“Don’t you dare,” Rilla growls, and her hair must have come loose from her braid because wisps are falling in front of her face and she really, really doesn’t have time for this right now. The tool in her hand catches against an edge, pulls, and she feels the curve of the foreign object between Arum's ribs move, just slightly. “Almost- almost got it, c’mon c’mon c’mon-”

“Rilla before it wakes, before it sets upon you-”

“Don’t be stupid,” she manages. “Knocked him out for this. Obviously. Otherwise the pain’d be- too much. He’s not gonna wake up. Probably not for hours. Shut up and let me focus.”

“Rilla that is a monster-”

“Damien,” Rilla snaps, sharp and harsh and unquestionable, and when her eyes finally jerk towards him Damien’s spine stiffens, his eyes going wide. “I heard you the first time. You think I don’t know this is a monster?” She scoffs, and her throat hurts with the effort of not absolutely screaming at him. “What I am doing, Damien, right at this moment, is incredibly delicate. You are going to leave this room- no, don’t you dare interrupt me, I am talking right now. You are going to leave this room and wait outside. When I am done, and not a moment sooner, I am going to come and join you, and then we are going to have a conversation about him. About this.”

“Rilla-”

“I said that all as nicely as I am physically able, right now. If you make me repeat myself, Damien, I’m not going to get any nicer. Get out. Now.”

He opens his mouth, but she turns away, refocusing back on the task at hand. The task literally, literally in her hands right now. Her grip on the talon is miraculously maintained. Somehow it hasn’t slipped away entirely, or slipped deeper. She delicately, delicately starts to maneuver the object, and if she angles it just right she should be able to slip it right out without scraping the business end of the thing against anything else inside him- without doing any further damage. Removal of something like this is dangerous and delicate and-

And Rilla barely hears it, when the door clicks shut behind Damien again.

She almost has it. Almost.

She twists her wrist. She bites her lip hard enough that it might bleed. She holds her breath and twists and pulls so, so gently-

The small black curve of a broken talon (or, possibly, fang) slips out from between his ribs with not an ounce of fanfare. It barely looks big enough to worry if stuck in the sole of a decent boot. It doesn’t even have the courtesy to dramatically drip black poison. But-

It’s the source of so much of Arum’s pain, and now Rilla has pulled it from him.

Now she can really, really start to help him.

… if she can convince Damien not to kill him, first.

[->]

[cordoniasmost]

As the World Burns - Part 5

Story: Blood Bound

Pairing: MC (Amy) x Adrian x Jax x Dracula x ? (it’s basically a clown car up in here, y’all!)

Warnings: Language, violence, sexual innuendo/discussions, pregnancy, date rape

Word Count: 1865

Find Part 4 Here

A/N: This is the final part in this series. 

When I stumbled on the theory about MC being pregnant as the reason for the “darkness within” line from yesterday’s chapter of BloodBound (Book 2, chapter 14), I had to write something super dramatic and funny (read: ridiculous) because what’s life without a little whimsy? Haha :)  This series is going to be 5 parts.  Enjoy! (This really went off the rails… sorry not sorry! lol)

Tag List: @furiouscloddonutpeanut @averysheart-raleighsdick @kingliamsbish @dr-brianna-casey-valentine @angrypainterfarmopera @maiajaychoices @desiree-0816 @mrsagentbreakdance

Amy sat backstage wondering what the fuck just happened. She held her head in her hands, taking deep breaths to try and regain her composure. It can’t be Gaius, can it? Her mind was swirling and she was having trouble focusing her thoughts. She felt Jax beside her protectively, his sword retrieved from the stage and slung over his back. He was rubbing slow circles on her back trying to comfort her.

“This is fine, Ames. We’ll figure it out,” he said soothingly. “It’s going to be fine.” She wondered if he was trying to convince her or himself, but either way she was grateful that he was still standing by her. Adrian, on the other hand, hadn’t said a word to anyone. It was hard to read the expression on his face, but mostly he just looked shocked.

As they were all trying to collect themselves, Dracula had managed to find a couple of women in the studio audience and had an arm slung around each of them, a promise of things to come no doubt. Amy gagged at the thought.

Gaius had disappeared into a side room with a flash of his teeth at her. Some people might have mistaken it for a smile, but she knew better. He was taunting her. The bastard. She wanted desperately to make him pay but her thoughts and emotions were confused. Amy also knew that Adrian and Jax had both wanted to kill Gaius before all of this happened. Now that they thought he had violated her? It was going to be a thousand times worse. She was surprised neither of them had made a move yet to take him out, but it was only a matter of time.

While trying to collect her thoughts, she heard the click of heels on tiled floor as someone approached them.  She looked up, her gaze settling on the woman walking towards her, clipboard in hand and headset slung around her neck. “Amy, a word please,” she said before spinning on her heel and striding off to a private section of the backstage area. Amy pressed her hands to her knees, pushing herself up into a standing position. 

“Do you want me to come with you, Ames?” Jax asked her, his hand still on her back.

She shook her head. “No, I’m sure it’s fine. I’ll be right back.”

Amy took purposeful steps, breathing deeply as she walked toward the producer. “What’s going on?”

She woman smiled at her. “That was incredible TV, so I wanted to thank you for coming on the show.”

Amy scowled. “Yeah, I’m sure it was great for ratings watching my life go up in flames,” she mumbled.

She woman chuckled. “That’s just the way this business works. It’s nothing personal.”

It felt pretty goddamn personal to Amy but she didn’t have the energy left to argue.

“Sure, whatever,” she said.

“I did want to let you know that we twisted things a little bit out there. The results we read on stage weren’t entirely accurate.”

Amy’s head snapped up, her eyes searching the producer’s for any sign that this nightmare wasn’t actually happening. 

“What do you mean?” she breathed. She felt a flicker of hope ignite deep inside her but she was afraid to acknowledge it for fear it’d be snatched back just as quickly.

“Obviously one of the guys you’re in a relationship with would have been incredibly boring for viewers. So, we decided it had to be one of the other two no matter what the test results said.”

Amy was starting to see red. “Can you get to the fucking point? You’re screwing with my life here. Just tell me what you did!” she yelled, her hands clenching into fists at her sides. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Jax take a step toward her, his eyes narrowed. She only had a few seconds left before he’d come over and do something they’d all regret. Neither Jax or Adrian was particularly jealous, but they were protective of her and likely wouldn’t react very well to news that they’d all just been fucked with for the sake of TV ratings. 

The producer smirked at her, handing her a manila envelope. “That was all just for show. Here are the real results. Congrats, Amy,” she said without sincerity, already turning and striding away, tossing a wave over her shoulder. 

Amy held the envelope with a shaky hand. Jax had closed the space between them, pulling her into his arms. “What’s wrong, Ames?”

She let out a shaky breath. “That producer just told me they didn’t give us the right results, that all of that was just for show.”

She could feel his body stiffen around her, anger beginning to radiate off of him. “What?”

She nodded, stepping back out of his arms. “Yeah, they fucked with us for ratings.” She felt disgusted, like she needed a scalding hot shower to wash off this day.

Jax laughed humorlessly. “I don’t know who I want to kill more at this point, Drac for making us go through this spectacle, Maury fucking Povich, or Gaius.”

“I vote all three,” Amy said, her voice hard. “But let’s get Adrian and open this envelope first.”

He glanced down at her hands. “What is that?”

“The real results.”

***

They found Adrian sitting by himself, staring off at nothing in particular. His body was rigid and he appeared to still be shocked by everything that had happened. Amy approached him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Adrian?”

He blinked a few times, awareness creeping into his eyes. “Hey Amy,” he said softly, giving her a small smile. 

“Listen Adrian, the producer just told me that they didn’t give us the real results out there. They were going for TV ratings and didn’t mind fucking with our lives to get them,” she said, her tone angry.

“What?” he said, practically shouting. “What do you mean?” His eyes narrowed and he jumped up from where he’d been sitting, beginning to pace.

“Just what I said. She gave me this,” she said, holding up the manila envelope, “and told me they were the real results.”

Adrian stopped pacing and his eyes widened. He sat back down, his gaze never leaving the envelope.

“I wanted to open it privately here with you and Jax,” she told him, reaching for his hand and giving it a squeeze.

He exhaled slowly. “Okay, yes. Let’s open it.”

She let go of his hand, breaking the seal on the envelope. She reached inside and delicately pulled the paper upwards until she could just read the black type enclosed inside. A smile broke out across her face, her eyes shining with unshed tears.

“What, Amy? Who is it?” Adrian asked, his eyes wide.

She couldn’t find her voice in this moment, the amount of relief she felt was indescribable. She handed the envelope behind her to Jax who quickly scanned the words on the page before grinning over at Adrian.

“Congrats, man! You’re going to be a father,” Jax told him, reaching over to hand him the envelope and clapping him on the shoulder. 

“I’m what?” Adrian asked in disbelief. “But I thought- But Gaius-”

He couldn’t seem to complete a sentence as slowly the events of the day caught up to him.

“I’m going to be a father? I’m going to be a father!” he shouted, jumping up and pulling Amy into a tight hug.

“Oof! Be careful, you’re squeezing me so tight I can’t breathe,” she laughed against him.

He instantly let her go, holding her at arm’s length, eyes filled with concern. “Did I hurt you?”

She laughed. “No, I’m fine now that I can get air into my lungs again.”

He pulled her back in for another hug, pressing a gentle kiss to her temple. “I can’t believe it. I never thought this would be possible after I was turned. I… lost my son and I’d given up hope of ever having another child. This is beyond any dream I could have ever imagined. You’ve given me the greatest gift I never dared to wish for. I love you,” he told her, his voice hoarse.

“I love you, too.”

From somewhere behind them, Amy heard a slow clap. She turned her head to see Gaius making his way toward them. 

“What a happy little family. Too bad that baby will never be born.”

Amy felt the anger welling up inside her. She wanted to make Gaius pay for everything he’d ever done to her, and this was the last straw. Just as she was about to step forward, she felt herself being pulled behind Adrian’s body. He stepped in front of her, shielding her from Gaius’s view almost completely before glancing down over his shoulder. “You will let me deal with him. We’re not putting our baby at risk for him,” he growled at her, his fangs bared but his eyes never leaving Gauis.

She felt his muscles tensing. Oh, shit. He’s about to do this here, she thought, glancing around the room. It had thankfully cleared out shortly after filming and Drac was nowhere to be seen. It was now just the four of them. 

“You won’t hurt my family,” Adrian said, his tone lethal.

Gaius threw his head back and laughed. “Your family? Oh, please. I was the only family you’ll ever have, Adrian, and you betrayed me. And for what? This?” he said, pointing at Amy and Jax.

Rather than say anything else, Adrian began to lunge forward. Jax threw out his arm across Adrian’s chest. “I’ve got this. You’re going to be a father. Let me take care of our family this time,” Jax said, reaching back and grasping the handle of his sword.

“You? What do you think you could possibly do against me?” Gaius taunted.

Almost faster than Amy could see, Jax had crossed the space between himself and Gaius, drawing his sword in the process. As if to demonstrate his lack of intimidation, Gaius turned his back at that moment to begin walking away. Jax was faster than he expected, though, and swung his sword just once. Gaius stopped walking, falling to his knees before slumping over. When his body hit the ground, his head rolled off, blood pouring from the opening in his neck where his head sat just seconds before.

“Holy shit, Jax,” Amy said. “I can’t believe you actually did it.”

He smiled at her, his face blood splattered. He’d never looked hotter. The fuck is wrong with me that fresh blood spatter gets me hot? She wasn’t going to over analyze it at this point.

“Guess that’ll teach you never to doubt my skills again, Ames,” he said with a wink.

She held out her hand for him, her body still pressed against Adrian’s. Jax strode towards her, wrapping her and Adrian both up in a hug.

Amy exhaled slowly. It was really all over, both the looking over their shoulder and hunting for Gauis and this crazy pregnancy drama. 

“I don’t know about you two, but I’m ready to get the fuck out of here. I could really use a nice relaxing evening at home,” she said. “With at least three orgasms.”

Adrian laughed, reaching down and placing his hand protectively on the small swell of her stomach. “I think we can manage that. What do you think, Jax?”

He chuckled. “Let’s go home.”

[rosetintedbeanie]

My Review on TWDG: The Final Season

Buckle up folks because it’s going to be a bumpy ride with some unpopular opinions added. This is a little overdue.

So before I start, I want to say that I didn’t want to put this into the tags because we all know how this fandom can be. 

I’ll start off with the good. The season started off really, really strong, and it was a good way to introduce all the new characters. I didn’t necessarily like Marlon at first, but after looking back, he’s grown on me a little bit. His voice actor did an incredible job. I’ll admit, after two seasons of disappointment and annoyance, I had low expectations for the first episode and the season as a whole, but I was pleasantly surprised. The ending to episode one, atmosphere and all, was one of the best final scenes in the game’s history, and it genuinely gave me chills all the way up until the last minute. THAT was some good shit, and it felt like the writers were finally realizing what they were doing. 

The season had likable enough characters, and although there are a few that I’m indifferent with, there wasn’t anyone that I totally didn’t like. The bisexual representation made me incredibly happy, and partially helped me a bit more with my own sexuality. Before anyone asks, I personally went with Louisentine, but Violentine is pretty damn adorable and both ships are totally valid. And I know it wasn’t a shipping option, but in my opinion, Clem would have been cute with Ruby, too. 

Minerva’s downfall was really well done. I didn’t necessarily like her, but I did feel sorry for her. She was a victim of brainwashing and bad leadership and she and Sophie didn’t deserve that. You could even see her trying to come out of it at times in the third episode, when she mentions Tenn to one of the guards (Dorian I think her name is?). The scene on the bridge was probably one of the best, if not the best scene of the last episode in my opinion. There was a lot of tension, and Minnie singing to draw walkers to her brother really added to that. If anything I actually forgot about her up until that point and thought she’d just died. Also, can we get a cover of her VA singing the entire song? I have a new need. 

Now before I dive into what I didn’t like and my unpopular opinions, a disclaimer: These are just my personal opinions. I tend to be nitpicky at these things, and I didn’t hate the season at all whatsoever. 

I...couldn’t get attached to AJ in any episode. I tried to, I really did. I didn’t hate him by any means, and I even defended him when people were wishing death and hating him for killing Marlon. But there were times that I felt that he was just too much, even for a hardened survivor. I get that he was born into an apocalyptic world, but I didn’t exactly like how he turned into the same temperamental, edgy kid no matter what Clem taught him. I wasn’t a huge fan of the many parallels, either. Some were fine, but after a while they started to get a bit old. 

Alright, here’s the biggie that y’all probably expected: the way they handled Lilly this season. If you’ve been following me for a while then you’re probably aware that I love Lilly and have defended her for years now. So naturally I was extremely excited to see that she was returning after years of being right about her fate (because come on, there’s no way she just died). And I just want to say that as much as I wanted a redemption arc for her, I wouldn’t have minded her being a villain so much had she gotten more screen time, a better explanation, and a more meaningful way to go out on both parts. I really didn’t like how she still appeared to have humanity in her first appearance, totally hesitating to kill Clementine and damn near CRYING if she’s told that you were family once, and then pretty much tossing all that out the window when she (determinately) orders a kid’s tongue cut out. Then in the finale she gets two minutes tops of screen time and can suddenly feel remorseful again? Ooookay. We also got pretty much no explanation on why she’s this way except for “my dad melted my ice cream so I kidnap kids now lol.” I just feel like we were robbed of something more involving Lilly, and no matter how you feel about her, she deserved better than to become what she did, better than to be handled the way she was. I’ll always stand by my word that she was not bad from day one, and no one can convince me otherwise. 

Something else that felt weird to me was that there was no mention of Kenny outside of a determinant choice in the first episode??? Like no matter how you felt about him, he was important in Clem’s life and it’s especially strange how he wasn’t even talked about during Clem and Lilly’s chat. You’d think Lilly would bring up the guy who killed her dad. 

The way that the deaths were handled in the finale bothered me. Like, really bothered me. There’s maybe a couple minutes of grief (which I get that in the moment you had to get away, but there was time for that later), and basically no other mention. Louis was the one who died in my game, but I’ve seen playthroughs and I couldn’t stand how Violet can pretty much justify Tenn’s death if it happens. The way she said, “He was always getting into trouble and messing up,” brought me back to Season 2 and the way Sarah was treated, and it was even worse because Tenn reminded me a little of her and to hear that again made me feel ill. Like girl...did Jane possess you there for a minute???

I uhhh might be in quite the minority here, but I was unsatisfied with the overall ending. The big thing was Clem getting bit and her leg amputated; okay, yeah, sure. But let’s look at what happened before: her foot was cut pretty badly, and I’ll even give that the infection could have taken the spread of the bite out of her. But people really seem to ignore that she still lost a lot of blood on the way to the barn??? Like, I’m not a doctor or anything, but losing blood even after a short period of time can still be very dangerous. Even with the explanation given by one of the writers, there’s no realistic way that Clem would have survived that amputation with the amount of blood already gone. I’m sorry, but it really felt like plot armor. I would have been happy with her being determinant, with the ending we got being the “alive” ending. But I feel like there should have been multiple endings, considering the last two seasons were known for that. I don’t know, I just wasn’t feeling it like most everyone else was. There was a lot I just wasn’t feeling. 

One last quick thing about the ending: we never did see the Delta. The Delta’s leader, who is NOT Lilly as confirmed by Kent Mudle, would wonder why their people didn’t come back. They’d probably send out to find whoever was responsible, especially if they knew about the school beforehand. You’d think the school would prepare itself for future attacks, because it’s kind of a new potential threat. It’s something I figured out kind of recently, and it’s weird that no one would question it. 

My overall opinion of the season was that it was good, but not great. In terms of writing, it blows A New Frontier and the last half of Season 2 out of the water. The story itself is an interesting idea, but there are a few directions that I wish had been taken differently. The season, as I said, started out strong, and there were moments in every episode that I genuinely liked. I just wish there had been multiple ways to conclude Clementine’s story. The ending we got just felt...a bit off. To conclude this essay-length review, I in no way disliked this season and I have to give credit to the writers for putting more of an effort since A House Divided. If you’ve read this far down, thanks! This was fun to write. 

**MIC DROP**

[theonetheycallhannah]

The Treatment of Captain Syverson-Chapter Nine: Group Therapy

Characters: Captain Syverson x OFC (Shane Benton)

Summary: A familiar drink brings back steamy memories for Shane (by popular demand), a ghost from the past picks a fight with the present, and the future hangs in the balance for our heroes.

Behind on the drama? It’s cool. I gotchu.

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings:  Language, mature themes, violence, smut, alcohol consumption, more feels than you can shake a stick at.

Author’s Note: Guys. Listen guys. I know this chapter is a tad late…not that I have deadlines, I just know y’all want more sooner than I can always get it to you. It’s also, though, a bit longer than most of the previous installments have been. I hope you guys enjoy it. I think it’s my favorite chapter so far…I definitely cried the most writing it…you’ll see why…I’m not sorry. Initially, for some reason, it was hard to stay focused. (I blame my own emotions and feelings clouding my ambitions. Can’t let that happen anymore. Even though the same factors apply. I’ve gotta keep my head in it!) I’m actually pretty sad that there won’t be very much more of this story…they’ve been such good friends to me. I may just have to find a way to keep them going in follow-up drabbles. I don’t know. But I’m open to suggestions.

Disclaimer: Unfortunately for me, Henry is not mine, le sigh, and all mention of him, his characters, any characters from his films, or his precious doggy, Kal, are strictly for transformative and recreational use. I neither ask for, nor accept payment for the work I post on Tumblr or AO3. Unbeta’d because this is for fun and escapism.

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X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@

It wasn’t top on Shane’s list of things she wanted to do tonight, but it had been ages since she’d gone out with her friends. It wasn’t totally because she’d been seeing Sy. But more recently, he had become the most prevalent reason she ended up bowing out. Because she had plans with him, or she needed to do things that she hadn’t gotten or wouldn’t get done because of plans with him unless she skipped out. They were bad excuses, but those of an introvert weren’t usually top-shelf, anyway.

It was Heather, the other secretary Marsha and her husband Alec, some of her fellow PTs Cory and Juan, and both OTs, Olivia and Miranda there at Cade’s that night. And Shane and Sy, of course. They were sitting at two tables close together, and after dinner, the guys got up to play darts while the ladies ordered a round of shots.

Heather both requested and paid for the tray of tiny glasses full of dark liquor. Shane knew the aroma all too well. Those were full of Jack Daniels. And she got tingly just thinking about the spirit, especially now.

“Let’s drink the first round to Shane.” She passed them around and held one up. “For landing captain sexy pants over there, and for being happier than I’ve seen her in actual years.” Heather clinked to the middled with the other girls as they completed the toast with cheery responses of “to Shane!” With intermittent whoops and cat-calls. She felt funny saluting herself, so she said nothing, silently dedicating her own drink to the guy she wasn’t expecting, wasn’t even asking for, but who’d been gifted to her, by God Himself, it seemed. Whoever or whatever or why ever, she was grateful for him.

She downed the full measure of whiskey, feeling the familiar pleasant burn down her throat and reminisced about the last time she’d had the drink.

~~~~~~

“No you’re cheating!” She slurred at Sy’s kitchen table.

“Not how I see it!” He smirked, that crooked grin mixing with the alcohol in her already impaired system making a heady and dangerous concoction.

“You’re delib’rately using my PT career against me!” They we’re playing “Never Have I Ever.” And he’d just used “never have I ever measured somebody up with a big protractor.”

“Hey, you’ve been trying to get me with ‘never have I army this, and never have I army that.’ And you just can’t and now you’re mad about it.”

“Ugh, I’m not mad, I just…don’t like cheating okay. Fair play. I’m a Hufflepuff, through and through!”

“As a Gryffindor, I resent your implication against my honor! And I say, drink twice.” They’d run out of mixer, and were down to the straight liquor. She was fine with it. She loved the sweet, oaky burn of Number 7 as she held small swallows on her tongue. Relished the burn of it on the tender skin of her lips like a rough kiss. She took two shots at his insistence.

“Never have I ever…fired a gun!” And they both drank because she had chosen a “never” that she “had ever” on purpose. She liked feeling this way with Sy. She liked being able to abandon her control and feel safe in so doing. Knowing that he wouldn’t let anything hurt her. Including herself.

His eyes began to glimmer in a way that she could always tell meant he was thinking something particularly salacious. Which typically meant something good was about to happen.

“Never have I ever…fooled around in a kitchen.” He waited a beat, then slowly stood, taking a long stride to stand directly in front of Shane, towering over her as she sat limp from drinking and more than ready for whatever he was planning. The kiss he gave her was almost instantly hungry, devouring, consuming. A wild fire that would spread throughout the forest of her. He pulled a stool out from under the table near her, barely having to break the contact and sat down in front of her on it. She leaned into him now, the boneless feeling now overtaken by her craving for him. She tugged at his casual blue tank top that stunned her because of the way it matched his eyes so well. She needed him closer. His hands rested on her thighs, mostly bare in the shorts she'd chosen for tonight, simply for their comfort, and not because they provided any sort of easy access. Not on a conscious level, anyway, she told herself.

His grip was tightening but the pain of the pressure didn't matter. His thumbs and fingers were rupturing tiny blood vessels and she registered the pain and the fact that she would have bruises in the shape of his claiming grip but all that really mattered was that he was there. Near. Present. And touching her.  

His hands moved, sliding up her legs, their trajectory shifting inward, their aim to open her up to him.

She was nothing short of willing.

He reached down to the seat between her legs and pulled her closer to him. Yes, she thought. He's too far away. Even though she could smell the whiskey on his breath even as she tasted it, still sweet on her own tongue. He laid a gentle hand on her left cheek, an almost chaste gesture, that snaked into something entirely different as it descended, brushing her neck, between her breasts, and over her abdomen, tumultuous from his touch and the drink.

He made it finally to her apex, easily brushing aside the fabric of her shorts, and teasing her there over her underwear with a soft, measured touch. She threw her arms around his neck, a wordless plea for him to go on. But her body was at odds with her mind.

“Sy, I wanna go slow.” She meant she didn’t want to end up in his bed tonight. Well, not that she didn't want to…

"Don't worry, sunshine. I'll take it real slow." he assured her, pretending to misunderstand her meaning as he teased her over her panties. She couldn't have spoken to correct him even if his lips hadn't taken an urgent hold on hers. His firm but frustrating touch was leaving her speechless and breathless.

Finally, he moved her undergarment aside to touch her, skin to skin. To pull a sweet, euphoric moan from her with just his fingers. He had been right about taking his time. It took him ages to find that space inside her that brought her to her pinnacle, but he made the wait enjoyable, all the same. She had a feeling he could have gone right to it, if he’d wanted to, but since she’d asked for it…

He grinned and chuckled into her mouth a bit as he toyed with her. He finally spoke,

“Hot damn, girl, you should have told me you needed me this bad.” He added a second finger to his game of search and destroy.

She could only grasp at his bare shoulders and the fabric of his shirt in an attempt to ground herself. He quickened, then slowed in sweet torture until her cries of his name became over loud for his neighborhood. The last build up, he added his thumb , brushing it against her aching center.

It hit her in waves of bliss as every muscle in her body responded to his localized, expert touch. Her vision blurred and for a second she could see the electricity flowing through air and matter and into her. Since when did THAT happen to her when she came?

“Sy!” She whimpered, a plea for him to stop but also to never stop.

“I know, darlin’, it’s alright. I’ve gotcha. Go on and let it out.” And she barely realized another climax had been building in her before she was falling headlong into it again, just as intense as the first one. He slowed, gently soothing her body after its small death, rubbing her neck and shoulder on the right side with his free hand.

He took his right hand away from her heat, brought it up to his mouth, and tasted her on his fingers. He poured them both another shot of whiskey, they threw them back, and once she had caught her breath from it all, she said,

“I don’t know the score, but I think you’ve won.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Back in the present, she felt too sober to handle the bombardment of questions coming from her coworkers, no matter how pure their intentions.

“So are you guys a couple, like officially?”

“Have you met each other’s folks?”

“Do you think he’s the one?”

“What is he like in bed!?”

“I bet he’s an absolute fiend!”

“Nah, guys ya think that about are always so vanilla.”

“How big is he!?”

All of these questions seemed to come at one time, or at least before she could answer the previous ones, and it made her head spin.

“Listen, girls. I’m gonna go get myself a strong drink, and when I come back, I’ll answer one question at a time, so figure out the order in which you’ll be asking, and a punishment system for interrupting. Fair?” The hens all nodded their beaks in agreement as she stood to go to the bar. She reminded herself to add a disclaimer when she got back to the table about having veto power over questions she felt weren’t appropriate.

As she stood at the bar waiting for her turn with the bartender, she tensed as she heard an all too familiar voice say her name.

“Shane Benton.” He said in a charming tenor that she now found obnoxiously boyish.

“Elliott Thomas. What misdeed did I do in a past life to end up back in the same room with you?” He ignored her jibe.

“You look well.” He said, surveying her as if he intended to make a purchase.

“Okay.” She would not give credence to half assed, insincere compliments.

“Who’s the guy you’re with tonight?”

“That couldn’t be any less your business.”

“You’ll always be my business, sweetheart.”

She rolled her eyes.  “Funny, you didn’t seem to give a shit when we were together.”

“Come on, tell me where ya met this meat head.”

“Back off, Elliott.”

“Come on. He’s in a plaid shirt. He looks like he’s trying to cosplay the Brawny man. How quick does he pick you up?” He raised his eyebrows, driving home his attempt at double entendre.

The rage came suddenly, without warning, and manifested in a firm slap from her right hand to his left cheek. It landed solidly enough for him to have to stretch his jaw and feel it, as if making sure it was still there.

"Well, still got some spunk. Good to know. Not so fast--" he grabbed her wrist as she stepped away from the bar, but she was saved the trouble of getting out of it with her favorite self-defense maneuver, by the solid wall of red plaid and denim topped with his favorite black Chiefs hat. Sy had apparently noticed her altercation at the bar and elected to step in.

"What's goin' on here?" he asked, not brusquely, but so coolly that it was almost friendly. Elliott let go of Shane's wrist immediately and threw his hands up.

"No trouble here, man. Just a little friendly conversation between two former lovers." he said, oozing pure, stinking hubris.

"Oh, you're Elliott. Nice to meet you, man." Sy reached out to shake the man's hand. "I've actually been wanting to thank you."

Elliott looked confused. So was Shane. This guy had broken her heart. What was Sy intent on thanking him for?

"I wanted to thank you for fucking up so bad with this kind, beautiful woman, this graceful and forgiving saint, that she couldn't stand the sight of you any longer. Who knows. If you hadn't been such a dick, she may not have been free to be with me today." all of this, Sy said with Elliott's hand still in his. Shaking it. Apparently not too firmly. Until Sy leaned in very closely and whispered something to Elliott that made him go several shades of puce, and grimace, pulling his hand away, which Sy eventually relinquished.

After Elliott had tucked his tail and ran away, Shane found herself in a far less merry temperament than she'd come in with. She and Sy decided to leave. They said their goodbyes, Shane promising more answers as soon as she could. And they left, her arm around his waist, and his around her shoulder.

About halfway to Sy's truck, Shane heard a solid ping near her ear and the shattering of glass on the pavement nearby, followed by a low growl from deep in Sy's chest. They halted in their stride, Shane turning quickly around, Sy turning more slowly and intentionally in the direction of his would be attacker.

Elliot stood beside the brick exterior of the bar with three other men, none of them within 50 pounds of Sy, and hardly a match for him…individually…but together, she was concerned. She would absolutely try to help fight these guys, but she couldn't take out more than one with the potential weapons she had on her person that she could inventory off hand. Plus, if she had to fight Elliott…he'd get into her head…she knew it. Thank God she didn't know the other guys. She'd hope to get one of them.

"Can I help you gentlemen?" Sy said, back to his polite self, not worried about potentially getting into a street fight in which they were outnumbered two to one.

"Just thought you'd like to tell my buddies here what you said to me in there. I mean, I gave them the gist, but I think they'd like to hear it from you." Elliott puffed.

"Ah, somebody can't keep a secret." Sy sigh scolded him, wagging his finger at him as if he was a misbehaved child. "I was gonna let it all go as long as you left us alone. Did you mention that to them before you got them into a whole mess o' trouble?"

"Tell them, you fuckin' coward."

"Big talk from a guy who had to make it four to one before he confronted me." Sy accused.

"Four to two." Shane squared her shoulders, standing next to Sy, and attempting to make herself look more formidable, which was next to impossible given the fact that the man beside her was a massive army captain and she was just…herself. But she'd be damned if she stood by and let Sy take all of this on when it was all because of her. Plus, she didn't want him to reinjure himself.

"How about you jump in if I need ya, sunshine." He whispered to her. She didn't move or reply. "But ya know, since ya asked so nicely, I will oblige. I told this piss-ant friend of yours after he physically accosted this lovely lady here, in no uncertain terms that if he EVER touched MY GIRLFRIEND again, he'd be begging for death for hours before I had mercy on him and put him out of his misery and that his body would never be found." He eyed each of the men before him, his fiery gaze a physical force upon them, letting his promise to Elliott sink in. "Now if y'all wanna defend a man who would put hands on a woman, and then proceed to physically assault a United States Army veteran like myself, I can come up with similar guarantees for all of ya. And carry them out here tonight. But y'all look like ya've got a lot o' shit ya still wanna get done in this life with limbs and dicks intact. So I would encourage all of you fine gentlemen to walk away from this situation."

Two of the men, surrendered, claiming Elliott hadn't mentioned that he'd hurt Shane or that Sy was a vet. One of the men asked to shake his hand and thanked him for his service. The smallest member of Elliott's group, however, remained with him. Shane thought she recognized him after getting a better look. He'd been at a few events she'd been to with Elliott's friend group. She thought his name was Kyle. Clearly he was one of Elliott's oldest and most loyal friends. He still looked skeptical. Unsure that the two of them alone could take Sy. Shane thought he was right to be worried.

"Come on, Kyle!" Elliott summoned his friend to the fight.

"I dunno, man. He's a soldier and I mean…look at him. Look at us!"

"You pussy." Elliott walked up to Sy.

"You don't want to do this, friend." Sy warned.

"I'm not your friend, asshole. You stole my girlfriend." he swung wildly at the larger man, but missed. He was unsteady, Shane could see now, from excessive drink. She hadn't noticed inside.

Sy remained still for one punch that landed weakly on his jaw, barely displacing it. "Are you done, there, Mayweather? We even? Now that you got to hit me?"

"We are not done. Not until one of us is on the ground." Elliott insisted.

"Fair enough." Sy socked him with a jab straight to the nose, knocking him dizzily to the hard asphalt of the parking lot. Kyle came up to him to drag Elliott to a nearby car as his head lolled forward like a rag doll.

"I'll get him to the ER. Explain to them what happened. You guys get home safe. And thanks for not killing him. Or me." Kyle said as he opened his passenger door. Sy helped heave Elliott's comatose form into the seat and shook Kyle's hand.

Shane's eyes were still wide at the entire chain of events. Her adrenaline supercharged from her readiness to fight alongside her man. Which, she was both relieved and disappointed that she didn't have to do. But there was another thing on her mind. She had been mentally replaying what Sy had said to Elliott played over and over for more reasons than his chivalrous and heroic conduct.

When they were in the car and headed to her house, Shane asked him about it.

"So…you called me your girlfriend tonight." she looked at him.

"Shit, Shane, I'm sorry. I've been wanting to ask ya for days to make things official, and I just haven't found the right time. I was gonna ask you over drinks tonight in front of all your friends, but then that asshole fucked it all up. I even have a gift for you." he fished around in his pocket for a small, flat box, and handed it to her. She flipped up the spring loaded lid of the black velvet box, and inside, on a tiny pillow of black satin was a silver necklace with a silver charm. An "S" in an elaborate script with a small emerald set in the lower hook of the letter. "And if you don't want to make it official, you can still keep the necklace, because the 'S' can be for 'Shane,' and the stone can just be an emerald, and ya don't have to think about it like it's my birthstone, and I--"

"Sy, hush. Of course I want to be your girlfriend, officially. I've been dying to say it myself. And I love the necklace. It's perfect."

"Really? You mean it? All of it?" she'd never seen him so desperate. She had no idea why he thought she might not be serious. But she did have an idea of how to prove it.

"Stay with me tonight, Sy."

"It's still early yet, babe. I'll have plenty of time--"

"No, I mean, I want you. Tonight." How could she be more clear than that?

"Oh, you mean…but I thought you wanted to wait until my treatments were over?" He asked, as if he didn't want to get his hopes up just yet.

"When you were on the phone with my boss that day, you said something that I haven't been able to stop thinking about. Something that's gnawed at my will and resolve ever since. You said that life was too short, and you didn't want to wait to be happy when you could be happy now." she was verging on tears. "Well, I'm tired of waiting too, Sy. You make me happier than I've ever been, and I don't see the point in ignoring what we really want anymore. Because the fact is, Sy…the fact has been for a while now," she laughed at her own foolishness for stifling and ignoring it all this time, "I love you. And I think I have from the moment you first called me ma'am." She was fully crying now, and the tears had broken through down his cheeks, as well.

He pulled into her driveway and jumped out of his truck, still running, headlights blazing into her yard. He jogged around the front, but Shane, being uninjured had caught up to him without the benefit of a head start. He caught her up in his arms as if she'd stay there forever. They sobbed tears of joy and relief as they kissed each other with abandon, silhouettes against the footlights and exhaust courtesy of the Ford Motor Company, the PowerStroke engine roaring a soundtrack for this moment as it idled.

"I love you, Shane. From the moment you found me dreading therapy all alone that first day and cheered me up instantly. I knew." he brush the tears and hairs away from her face and held it, scrutinizing her features in the high-beams as if he intended to draw her from memory.

"I didn't know you were dreading it." she laughed, lightening the mood a bit.

"I was. A lot. Never had a lot of luck, especially recently, with PT. Until you."

She smiled, and looked at the truck, a third party to their romantic moment now more obvious to her.

"You're wasting gas."

"Hang the gas. I'm wasting time with you. You wanna go inside?" he asked. She nodded.

"You go get your purse. I'll be right around."

Sy shut off the truck and took his keys out, locking the vehicle from the fob after his arm was back around Shane and they were walking up her front porch steps.

Up Next: Chapter 10- Myofascial Release

[jiminthestreets-bonesinthesheets]

Lost in Translation

Title: Lost in Translation

Fandom: Star Trek

Pairing: Mckirk

Rating: Lemon

Tags: minor character death, hurt, little bit of self destruction, stranded, possible smut down the line, FLUFF!!!

Summary:

    “Attention citizens. This is the crew of the Enterprise asking for your aid. On Stardate 2264.78 a shuttle manned by our captain and fourteen cadets was ambushed by an unknown source and chased out of sight of our ship and into open space. Those cadets as well as our captain, James Tiberius Kirk, are still missing. We are asking anyone with any information on their whereabouts, or regarding the attack, to please contact the Enterprise immediately. Our family would appreciate any assistance you can give.” 

AO3 Link

Masterlist

Special Thanks: wanted to give a huge shout out to my girl Katie, AKA @goingknowherewastaken for being a huge inspiration for this fic as well as for being a huge help (especially when it comes to putting up with my frantic ramblings lol) you're awesome boo <3

A/N: So this is a work in progress but it’s basically finished and I’ve been making great headway with this recently, so this will be the first fic I’ve ever finished! Woohoo!! And I'm thinking that I’ll probably stick to a Sunday post schedule.

    Also a little note for y’all to keep in mind while reading. I have tagged this fic “possible eventual smut” and that’s because right now I don’t have any planned buuuuut… I'm going to leave that option up to you guys! Between the readers here and AO3, if you're still with me by the end of this fic, leave a comment and let me know if you would be interested in an epilogue or end scene with smut. I’ll post a reminder at the end, but keep it in mind while reading.

    And if anyone is interested in being tagged for future posts for this fic or any others I may post, please let me know and I’ll add you to the list! Thanks for reading <3

AN: Sorry this is so late... I’ve had a shitty shitty weekend. But now it’s up and I cant wait to see what you guys think of this one!

SO MUCH FLUFF IN THIS CHAPTER! SO MUCH FLUFF!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 6

“Damn it kid, look what you do to me.”

    Leonard ran his thumb gently across the back of the hand he was still holding. He remembered waking up that day in the sickbay, he remembered his conversation with Uhora, remembered the feeling of acceptance that washed over him but also the fear of possibly never being able to admit that to the person who actually mattered.

    He looked over to Jim still unconscious in the bed, as lifeless as he had been when he was being rushed through the sickbay after Spock had finally found him.

    “Jim,” he began, nervously, “kid… you gotta wake up. You heard the log, I’ve got a lot of things to say and I want to be able to say them to your face. I don’t even care if you don’t… if you don’t feel the same, I just need to say it. I need you to know the truth. I don’t want another chance lost on us like this Jim, I-”

    Tears clouded his vision and a lump filled his throat as he squeezed Jim's hand a little tighter. What were the words worth if Jim couldn’t even hear them?

    The padd in his lap prompted him with a new log, this one belonging to Jim again, and a shaking finger touched the screen allowing Jim's voice to fill the room.

    “Kirk’s log, stardate 2264.97. I buried them today Bones, all of them. I buried fourteen rookie cadets, kids, in the sand, on a planet we don’t even know, a planet that’s not even federation! Kids, Bones, they were all kids!” Leonard heard a muffled sound through the padd, he was sure it was a sob Jim was trying to cover, “I couldn’t just leave them lying there like that, it didn’t feel right. So… so I took a piece of metal from the wreckage and used it yesterday to dig out fourteen graves. The metal tore up my hands pretty bad but… a small price to pay for the indefinite price those cadets paid. And I don’t know if I’ll ever be found, but at least this way, whatever happens, I know I did my best to make sure those kids have some kind of peace. And if you do find me, Bones, or if somehow this comm makes its way back to you, will you let their parents know that I tried. I tried my best to keep them alive long enough but I just… I couldn’t do it. Not with the supplies I had, I just… god, Bones. Kids, they were all just kids…”

~~~~~~~~~~~

    After a full day of digging fourteen graves, Jim laid down for one last sleep in his battered shelter, surrounded by his fallen crew members. The next morning he woke with the sun and began finally laying his cadets to rest.

    He started with the first fallen, Trever, their pilot. Then moved on to the second, VooHook, then Amanda, and Kent. One by one he pulled their lifeless bodies into their far too early graves, with ripped apart hands and still limping on his injured knee, until all fourteen graves were filled. And one by one he filled in each and every one of them.

    When he was finished it was mid day and Jim stood panting before the graves in the blazing hot sun. He stared down at them, the fourteen bumps of freshly turned ground at his feet, and fell to his knees in a crying lump. “I'm sorry,” he choked out around the uncontrollable sobs, “I let you all down and I'm so sorry. I’ll never be able to forgive myself for this. You all deserved better then me.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

    After Jim had said his goodbyes and cried until he couldn’t cry anymore, he gathered what little he could from the shelter, shoving it into the now empty medkit, and started making his way towards the lonely mountain.

    As he was walking he pulled out his comm and began talking, trying to keep his mind off of how far the mountain really was. “Kirks log, stardate 2264.97. I’ve started walking, Bones. I'm making my way towards the only other thing I can see besides desert, the single mountain. It’s definitely going to take me much longer then I was hoping with my injured knee, but I'm trying not to think about that so much.”

    Jim paused, continuing to limp towards the mountain as he thought back to better times. To his times in the academy after Pike had finally set him straight, and to think on it now Jim realized he had a lot more then his captaincy to thank his mentor for. He thought back on meeting Bones on that shuttle in Riverside, to the first time he laid eyes on that grumpy old doctor who seemed to worm his way right into his closed off little heart in the blink of an eye. To the ship, his ship, and the crew that came with it, his family. To the good times and the bad times, and the times he managed to drag Bones’s argumentative ass along on away missions, just so he could hear the doctors ever present negative outlook on whatever crazed idea Jim had come up with. In fact, now that he really thought about it, a lot of his memories involved Bones.

    “Hey, Bones,” he chimed, glossy eyed as he sunk back into the memory, “remember when we first met? You were hiding in the bathroom on the shuttle in Riverside. I was bruised and covered in blood after Pike just pulled my ass out of an epic whooping, and you were drunk off your ass and fighting with the attendant on the shuttle, rambling on about your aviophobia.” He scoffed as he continued, “You know, I’ll never get over the fact that a man as terrified of flying as you ever joined Starfleet to begin with… but I'm damn glad you did. And on the bright side, you never did throw up on me.”

    He chuckled at the thought. The entire flight to the academy was spent listening to the man beside him ramble on and on about everything and anything that could go wrong in space, sharing the flask the man had hidden in his jacket pocket, and praying that he wouldn’t end up with a lap full of the mans lunch by the end of it. But regardless of the fact that he was the most down trod man Jim had ever met besides himself, he couldn’t help but feel right away that they fit together better then any two beings in the entire universe. And he missed him so much right now.

    “Remember,” He laughed trying to remember the exact words, “remember what you said to me that day, Bones, how you described space. You said, “space is disease and danger wrapped in darkness and silence,”” he did his best to imitate the mans gruffy southern accent and looked around him at the vast amount of nothing before him, “ain’t that the truth. But no matter how this ends, Bones, I want you to know that I am thankful for you. I'm thankful for everything that brought us together in the end. For your ex wife who took the whole damn planet in your divorce, for the flight attendant who forced you to sit next to me on the shuttle, for the rooming snafu that ignored your request for a single room and landed you with me as a roommate instead, for being suspended and having my pouty ass hypoed and snuck onto the Enterprise by you. I feel like every being in the universe was always trying to bring us together, Bones, and by some god damn miracle we finally managed it after all those years. I just hope… I hope it doesn’t end on this sour note. I hope we pull off another miracle and I can find my way back to you. We’ve got a lot to talk about that’s for sure.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

    “Hey, Bones.” It had only been a few hours since his last log, but his injured knee was starting to ache even more with the walking and Jim needed some kind of distraction, “Remember first year, it was second term, and you were all riled up about passing the shuttle exam? And you killed me in the shuttle crash?! I know I never let you live it down but you have to admit it was pretty damn funny.” He trailed off, laughing at the memory of it. “It was when we were just starting to become really close, closer then we already were at the time. And despite the fact that you crashed our shuttle a bunch of times it’s a really great memory for me. When we were in that shuttle together, alone, just the two of us, it was the first time we really touched, we… we held hands for the first time. And when we were in there together, I thought for sure… Bones, I thought you were going to say something, I thought you were going to tell me that-” he sighed, still not quite able to say it yet, “but you didn’t. Anyways, I uh, I was just thinking about that memory. I hope you remember it, Bones.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

    “Just ease the shuttle out of the port, Bones.”

    Jim sat beside Len, the two of them in their casual grey academy sweats and matching oversized hoodies, just the two of them after class hours. Len was in the pilots seat, hand wrapped around the control stick in a white knuckled grip as he did as Jim said, and tried to ease the shuttle out of the port. Jim gripped the arm of his chair as the shuttle stuttered out of port, past the few docked shuttles around them, and into open space.

    “Good,” he nodded, “a little shaky, but good. Now, accelerate forwards at a nice pace and head for the planet’s surface.”

    Len nodded without taking his eyes off the view screen, focused on his task while trying not to have a mental break down mid flight, like he had while his instructor was in the passenger seat a few days prior.

    The shuttle continued at its slow and not so steady pace, and Jim was sure the planet was actually getting further away from them instead of closer. “Speed up a bit grandma or else we’ll die of old age before we even get there.”

    Len's fingers gripped tighter around the control stick as he ground out around clenched teeth, “Jim, this is stressful enough as it is!

    “Easy there, Bones” Jim chuckled, “but you do need to go a little faster, we’re in open space, and stop shaking so much, everything’s fine.

    Len tried to take a steadying breath but what came out was more like a stutter. He chanced a glance down at his hand still clenched tightly around the control stick and noticed just how much he was shaking.

    He closed his eyes for a moment and shook his head. “You know I hate flying, kid. It’s not as easy as you make it sound to just relax while I'm holding not only my life in my hands, but now yours as well.”

    Jim let go a small smile as his eyes travelled over to Len’s still shaking hands. Before he could stop himself he stretched his arm across and let his fingers trail gently down Len's arm, starting at his elbow and stopping at his wrist. He let his fingers linger on the back of Len's hand for a moment, tracing small circles on the skin there, before wrapping his hand around Len's and running his thumb soothingly over Len's and pushing the stick forwards into a slightly faster speed.

    Without looking up he spoke to Len again, in an almost whisper, “You know I willingly give you my life, right, Bones.”

    Len scoffed, “As a doctor, yes, but as a pilot you shouldn’t.”

    “It wouldn’t matter the situation, Bones, I would trust you with my life regardless.”

    “Kid,” Len shook his head again, “I'm the worst pilot the academy’s got. You’d be better off never getting into a shuttle with me, it’d probably be a hell of a lot safer.”

    “You're not a bad pilot,” he continued to ease Len's hand forwards bit by bit as he continued, “you're just a little too high strung at times and over worrisome. You’ve just got to learn to let things go, whatever’s going to happen will happen, and as long as it happens with you and I together, then I'm ok with it.”

    For the first time since they entered the shuttle Len took his eyes off the view screen to look at Jim. He didn’t know exactly what to say…well that was actually a lie. He did know what to say, but what he struggled with was how to say it. “Jim…”

    Jim still refused eye contact, eyes focused on their hands as he whispered barely audible, “Yeah, Bones.”

    “Jim, I-” before he could get it out the shuttle rocked violently to the side. Len's eyes widened in panic and Jim sat straight up in his chair. He removed his hand from Len's and kept his eyes fixed on the view screen. “Jim, what was that?!”

    “You’re the pilot, you tell me.”

    “I thought you were supposed to be helping me!” Len was in full panic mode. His hands flew across the controls, trying desperately to locate the source of the hit, and stop the deafening alarms from going off around them.

    “I am helping you, Bones,” Jim’s voice remained calm and collected, and it flustered Len even more, “this is a great time for a lesson.”

    “It sure as hell is not!”

    “It sure as hell is!” Jim shot back full of enthusiasm, “Now tell me what's happening, and quick before we’re hit again.”

    Len's hands continued to move across the controls before he sat back, face pale and eyes wide, “We’re in an asteroid field!”

    “Yes we are!” Jim sat back and crossed one leg over the other, turning slightly towards Len, “Now what do you do?”

    Len turned to Jim, annoyed at the very collected and undisturbed kid beside him and growled, “How are you so calm?!”

    Jim merely ignored the question and asked the same one again, “What do you do, Bones? I know you know the answer.”

    He huffed a breath and searched his memory, thinking back to class and what his instructor had told him before stuttering out, “I… I pull up a view screen of the field to help navigate through it and then… land on the nearest safe surface until I can get aid.”

    With out so much more than a nod Jim said, “Then do it.”

    Len turned back to the controls and brought up the view of the asteroid field on the screen, and quickly tried to navigate a path through the debris towards the planet he was originally headed for. His frantic movements caught Jim's eye and he reached over and placed a firm hand on Len's shoulder.

    “Relax, Bones.”

    “Kid…” Len was sure that if he gripped the control stick any tighter with his right hand it would mould to his skin, but he just couldn’t bring himself to the calm level that was Jim Kirk.

    Jim gave his shoulder a light squeeze, “You wanna get through this asteroid field then you have to have a calm steady hand and a clear mind. Just breathe.”

    “Kid…” Len could feel every muscle in his body tensing despite Jim's words, “We’re gunna hit that huge asteroid!”

    “Reverse thrusters, Bones, you can get through this field easily.”

    Len found himself completely frozen as the asteroid was coming closer and closer. He couldn’t move any part of his body no matter how hard he tried, no matter how loud his brain yelled at his hand to reach across and activate the reverse thrusters, nothing was working. All he could do was stare straight ahead and think about the inevitable.

    “Kid…” was all he could manage to choke out.

    Jim gave Len's shoulder another squeeze, leaning closer to him, “You know how to do this, Bones, reverse thrusters.”

    “Jim!”

    With Len completely locked up, the shuttle crashed hard with the large asteroid, shaking the entire shuttle as the view screen went black. The shuttle around them filled with a deep red hue and the alarms were replaced with a robotic female voice.

    “Away mission to class M planet, Maldova, failed. Shuttle destroyed on impact, all life forms aboard perished. Simulation end.”

    The red hue was then replaced with the normal glow of artificial light as Len slumped back into his chair with a huff, rubbing at his eyes with both hands.

    Jim shook Len's shoulder where his hand still held him tightly, as he breathed with a smile, “It’s ok, Bones.”

    “No, no it’s not, Jim!” He threw his hands up in frustration, “I have another simulator test coming up in two weeks, and if I don’t pass this one I won’t be allowed to move into the next semester with you. I’ll be held back until I can pass this god forsaken test! Not to mention if this was a real life situation I would have killed you!” he sighed, “I'm a doctor damn it, not a pilot! Why do I have to learn how to fly?!”

    “Every member of a ship has to know how to fly, no matter what their position is, everyone has to be certified. It’s Starfleet regulation. If something happened and every crew member was unable to fly except you, then we would all look to you to pilot.”

    Len groaned, not even wanting to think about such a mess, “I'm never going to pass this test. I'm going to be held back and you’ll move on without me.”

    Jim shook his head, “Not a chance, Bones.”

    “Jim,” Len began in a firm voice, “you are not halting your education or dream of captaincy because this old man can’t pass a damn simulation test. It just means we won’t graduate together.”

    “I'm not walking that stage without you.”

    “Kid-”

    Jim stopped him, looking Len directly in the eyes as he spoke his next words with sincerity, “Bones, I meant what I said before. No matter what the situation, I willingly lay my life in your hands.” Len could only stare at him in awe as he continued, “I would never give that trust to anyone else, only you. And I can’t do that if I'm in space and you're still grounded. No one else on any ship, or anywhere in the universe, would be worthy enough of that trust, and I don’t want anyone else, I only want you. And if that means that I have to stay here with you for another year and wait while you pass the test, or two years, or ten years, even if we never leave earth, I will wait right here beside you, Bones. I am not going into space without you, do you understand?”

    Len didn’t know what to say. All he could do was stare and nod to let Jim know that he did understand, but what he wanted to say was how much Jim's words had meant to him. After a hardened childhood and a shitty marriage followed by an equally shitty divorce, Len was starting to think he would never know compassion again. But sure enough, Jim Kirk had some how managed to flip his entire life view around and flutter his heart like a love sick teenager, despite the hard exterior he worked so hard on.

    “Good,” Jim smiled, leaning away from Len, “but I'm not going to let you fail. We are going to work on this until you feel comfortable with it.”

    While Len continued to stare at Jim, he turned away and started rebooting the simulator to play a random mission. While his hands worked the controls Len reached forwards and caught Jim's hand in his, holding it firmly, linking their fingers together and giving them a squeeze. Jim stopped all movements and looked to Len, waiting for him to say something.

    “I...” He began, “Thanks, Jim, for sticking with me, it means a lot.”

     Jim returned the squeeze and smile, and when Len let go they both found their hands feeling very empty. A want to pull back and never let go washing over the both of them, but neither knowing how to go about that. So Jim decided instead to turn back to his work and busy himself with rebooting the simulator, and less then a minute later they found themselves looking through the view screen at the now very familiar port.

    “Ok, Bones,” Jim settled back into the chair once again and explained Len's new mission, “this time you're rescuing a stranded four man crew stalled in open space. You’ve got to locate them, bring your shuttle to rest beside them without jostling them further into space, and engage the boarding tube so they can safely leave their ship and board ours. Got it?”

    “Got it,” he confirmed with a nod.

    “Great.” A smirk quickly found its way onto Jim's face as he turned to face Len, “And this time don’t forget to watch out for oncoming debris or danger, don’t get distracted while ogling my fine self again.”

    Len just reached over and gave Jim's shoulder a shove. Jim burst out laughing, and as much and Len tried to give the kid his signature scowl he just couldn’t, and ended up laughing along with him. He spared him one last glance, Jim's face bright with laughter and Len couldn’t help but think how much he loved that smile on Jim kirks face, what he wouldn’t give to have it always there and only for him.

    As the shuttle pulled further out of the port he returned his eyes reluctantly to the view screen. Taking the shuttle out into open space, this time with more confidence and less of a shake to his hands, as Jim's laughter beside him filled the shuttle.

~~~~~~~~~~~

    Len ran his thumbs over Jim's fingers, his hand still tightly held in his while Jim still lay unconscious beside him. “How could I forget, kid,” and how could he.

    He remembered that day perfectly, as if it were yesterday. The day Jim had not only sent a whirlwind of shivers through his body with his touch, and held his hand, but it was also the day that Jim had given his whole self to Len. After knowing Jim for close to a year at the time, Len knew that Jim was not one to trust others easily if even at all, and for Jim to openly and completely give that trust to Leonard was a feeling he could not explain. Jim's declaration of trust meant more to him then the universe itself.

    Looking at the padd revealed yet another one of Leonard's logs. He pulled Jim's hand into his lap, still not letting go, and opened the next file.

    “CMO’s log. Stardate 2264. 98. Its been two days now since lieutenant Uhura found me in a heap in my room. One day since I woke up in the medbay an absolute mess. I will admit that… that Jim's disappearance has taken a huge toll on me. I’ve never been this long without the kid and once we get him back, and we will get him back, I will do everything in my power to personally make sure Jim never leaves my side again. Protocol be damned! But after yet another hard day with news of another planet coming up empty, it was the lieutenant’s words that helped me get through the night without another incident. Uhora was right, we can’t help Jim if we can’t even help ourselves.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: I warned you... FLUFF!!! ok, getting into some flashbacks now as Jim’s journey across the empty planet begins... more good times to come XD

Let me know what Y’all think <3 Love you guys!!

Tags: @goingknowherewastaken @weresilver-in-space @medicatemedrmccoy @bi-e-ne @flaminglupine @resistance-is-futile81 @0dannyphantom0 @haveyouseenmymind @jimboy-mccoy

If anyone wants to be tagged let me know <3

[tumbler-tidbits]

POST 2/2 NON SMUT FIC RECS:

Non-Smut Fic-Recs:

1)Always Have, Always Will by @spnfamily-alwayskeepfighting

Link:

Summary: On the biggest day of Dean’s life, nothing goes the way he had hoped. Everything went wrong. It always does for a Winchester

Pairing: Dean x reader, Sam and Castiel

Warnings: Swearing, pure angst, depression, self-hate, self-harm, mentions of sexual assault, violence, suicide (graphic), and character death

My Review: Ok y’all I’m gonna be brutally honest... this one hurts! ALOT. So please HEED THE WARNINGS . Jess’ writing is amazing and the fact that she had so many of us in tears is testament to that fact! The pain starts immediately and let me tell you it gets worse as you read. Yes it is soul crushing but it is also poetically beautiful 😭😭😭 which is why I repeat,HEED THE WARNINGS. “Always have, Always will” has a special meaning and makes the story that much more dynamic and beautiful❤️❤️❤️ if your a fan of angst or even if your not (like me) if you don’t have triggers, give this fic a try.

2)Alpha!Sam Headcanons: Trouble At School by @saxxxology

Link:

Summary: Sam’s daughter has recently presented as an Omega and is receiving unwanted attention at school. When the officials won’t do anything about it, Sam fixes the problem himself.

Pairing: Past Alpha!Sam x Omega!Reader, Omega!Alice (OC daughter)

Warnings: student-on-student molestation, bullshit school system, swearing, mentioned underage presentation, Sam being a protective single parent

My Review:

I’m gonna be honest, this is sexy, because who doesn’t love Protective Daddy Alpha!Sam?! Major win!! When Sam’s daughter is in danger at school, Sam takes care of the problem himself!

3)Bedtime Stories by @because-imma-lady-assface

Link:

Summary: Just sweet uncle Dean and his niece Harper

Pairing: Uncle Dean x Harper

Warnings: Super Fluff

My Review: This is so sweet and fluffy! I love reading Domestic Sam and Dean! In this drabble Uncle Dean is babysitting his niece Harper while Daddy Sammy is away for the night. Harper misses her Daddy and can’t sleep, so Dean comforts her ❤️❤️

4)Alpha!Sam Headcanon - Being Woken Up By His Baby by @saxxxology

Link:

Summary: Sam’s daughter needs some attention at two in the morning.

Pairing: Alpha!Sam x Omega!Reader

Warnings: just tooth-rotting fluff, Sam being in Dad Mode

My Review: I am LOVING these Alpha!Sam headcannons! This is just sweet Daddy Sam taking care of his baby girls need for some cuddles ❤️

5)Two Little Winchesters by @ladywinchester1967

Link:

Summary: Sam and Dean are de-aged by a spell and when they come down sick the reader takes care of them

Pairing: Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Castiel, Y/N Female

Warnings: Swearing, sick!Dean, sick!Sam, de-aged characters, fluff, mothering tendencies

My Review: This was so sweet and fluffy! I absolutely loved it. The fan art picture that accompanies the Fic is absolutely adorable and adds to the sweetness! Fussy Wee Winchester’s for the win 😍

6)Jamming Out by @simply-wins-little-sis

Link:

Pairing: Pairings: Sam and Dean x little sister Winchester! Reader

Warnings: None just silliness

My Review: This one is just fun and silly! AU where Sam and Dean have a little sister and she is enjoying her alone time in he bunker 😂😂 then her brothers come home.

7)Bobby and His Boys Drabbles by @because-imma-lady-assface

Link:

Summary: Sweet moments with Uncle Bobby

Pairing: Uncle Bobby, young Sam, young Dean

Warnings: None just sweetness

My Review: These little drabbles just make you go “Aaawwweee” 😍😍 special little moments between Sam and Dean and their Uncle Bobby.

8)My Real Dad by @winchesters-favorite-girl

Link:

Summary: The reader is Gen’s daughter who’s had an absent father, meaning she doesn’t really know what it’s like to have a dad, that is until her mom starts to date Jared Padalecki

Pairing: Jared x Gen, Gen’s Daughter

Warnings: Absent-Parent, Sweetness

My Review:

This little series is told from the point of view is 12/13 year old girl who is Gen’s daughter from a previous relationship. The story explores her accepting Jared and her Dad and the obstacles they overcome together. Super sweet and slightly angsty this ongoing series is a must read!

9)Paint it Pink by @supernatural-teamfreewillpage

Link:

Summary: Halloween’s Around The Corner And Dean Has Pranked You More Than Once And Your Sick An Tired Of It So You Come Up With A Plan With Sam’s Help To Give Dean The Fright Of His Life…

Pairing: Dean x Reader, Sam

Warnings: Language, Hilarity

My Review: If you love the prank wars constantly pulled by the Winchester brothers, check out this drabble! It’s hilarious! The reader and Sam are fed up with Deans pranks and team up to teach him a valuable lesson

10)Mixed Emotions by @crispychrissy

Link:

Summary: After a brothers-only night of trivia, Sam returns to the bunker with a riddle that has been bugging him. When you answer it with some embarrassed hesitation and run away without a full explanation, Sam decides to take matters into his own hands

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader, Dean Winchester

Warnings: Fluff, minor angst, minor violence/blood, sexuality, language

My Review:

Ever wondered how Sam would act as a jealous and angry boyfriend? Well after a Secret is revealed you get to see just that lol, don’t worry though it’s not entirely what you think 😉

Tag List:@supernatural-teamfreewillpage @dean-winchesters-bacon @maddiepants @pisces-cutie @covered-byroses @anotherwaywardsister @currentlyfangirling99 @treat-winchesterswith-kindness @spnmightkillme @spnfamily-alwayskeepfighting @team-free-will-you-idjits-67 @xxhalfbloodprincessxx @supernaturalsammy01 @evansrogerskitten @sammyimpala-67 @lunarboycas @bobasheebaby @ladywinchester1967 @spnskinnyballs @kbl1313

[tae-kun]

Untitled- Chapter 1: Judgement pt2

Damien: WHAT THE HELL! THIS IS NOT FUNNY!!!

Angie: Woah woah woah. no need for yelling my guy. i mean this is Your Judgement. You’re literally doing this to yourself

Damien: What the hell does that even mean?!

Angie: *looking around* I honestly don’t think i have the time to explain all that to be honest

Angie: Seems like you have some serious conflictions going on my guy, buuut you definitely seem to have a decision made. You just need to fully accept it so we can speed this up

Damien: Accept what?! Going to Hell?

Angie: yup you guessed it

Damien: Why would i accept that! I don’t belong in Hell!!

Damien: I did good! I prayed, i helped people i even... i even...

Damien: Why can’t i remember everything?!

Angie: Well in here you only remember what’s necessary and what you Truly believe

Angie: You were about to tell a lie. A lie that you would commonly tell which is why you can remember parts of it. But a lie isn’t something you truly believe so you can’t remember all of it

Angie: *opens a book on the Podium and searches*

Angie: oo oo see look it *opens the book wide to shows Damien a page* seee Compulsive Liiieeerrr

Damien: no... no there’s no way...

Angie: Dude it’s clear as day *brings book back and continues to read* hmm overly aggressive... repressed and denial of emotions... abuse... sheesh

Damien:

Angie: Over Sexualization... Manipulation... Theft... Violence towards others... Greed...whats this here

Angie: Racism!? Colorism!? Nigga you’re Black!? Your Mom and Father was Black.

Angie: Like do you know the population of darker skins in... like you’re all the same species... like why... who??

Damien: Look ok im sorry! I didn’t mean todo anything i did.. I didn’t know!!

Angie: Bruh come on now. Humans are born with the ability to know right from wrong. How you’re raised can twist and confuse what you might see as good or bad

Angie: But deep down you know the truth. you definitely lived long enough to know what you were doing

Angie: Denial is held up by Excuses and Self Ignorance. And as you can see we hold no corners for that here *smiles*

*The Deterioration Speeds ups, The Room Itself Starts To Feel Cold*

Damien: *puts his head in hands, kneels and begins to panic* I don’t wanna disappear.. I don’t want to go to hell... I don’t want to die....

Angie: *looking down at him* But you don’t truly believe that you should be in Heaven either. All the things you did, all the people you hurt.. You Knew Better.

Damien: *beginning to tear up* i did, i did know better! i was just... i don’t know.. how could i have known... i thought it was ok... i thought i was taught right... i though... i thought....

*The Deterioration Stops for a second, Then continues to Grow*

Angie: Hmm...

Angie: Tell me something Damien

Angie: Do You Love Yourself?

Damien: Do i..love...myself..

Damien: I don’t... i don’t know... *picks his head up and looks at Angie*

*The Deterioration Stops*

Angie: Hmm.. interesting *opens book again*

Angie: *takes a deep breath*

Damien: What?.. What is it??

Angie: A blood donor! Why didn’t you just tell me that from the start?

Damien: Huh?.. what are you talking about?

Angie: You’re a Blood Donor. Says it right here

Angie: Seems like you save a lot of lives because of that. How could you go to Hell when you have so many people that would love to thank you

Damien: *whipping his eyes* so does that mean im going to be ok?

Angie: *hovers over to him and grabbing his hands and helping him up* Of course you’re going to be ok *hugs him*

Angie: You’re going to be just fine *pulls back and smiles*

*The Golden Gates Begin To Open*

Damien: So does that mean i get to go to heaven

Angie: I guess so

Damien: *Hugs Angie again* Oh My God.. Thank You, Thank You so much

Angie: i didn’t do anything, believe me when i say there is still a lot more for you

Damien: What do you mean?

Angie: It wouldn’t mean anything if i told you know would it?

Damien: I guess...

Damien: So now what?

Angie: Now you walk past those gates and find your Happiness *smiles*

Damien: ok.. *lets go of Angie and begins to walk past the gate*

Angie: Oh and one more thing Damien

Damien: *turns around and looks and Angie* Yea?

Angie: Whether in Heaven or Hell, Truth or Ignorance, you will find your Peace or you will find Silence

Damien: Huh?

*A Bright Light Flashes Taking Damien To Paradise*

Angie: *looks at The Gold Gate* Humans really need to be more creative about these gates..

Angie: This will be interesting surprise for many

Angie: But what would heaven be without any

*Angie vanishes along side The Room*

The End of Chapter 1

Thank you all for reading 😬

sorry i had to break this into 2 parts... i had to for the gifs...

This is my first time doing something like this so sorry if it seems too wordy or not as funny as the preview i made last week 😅. I’m trying to build everything up properly so this can be something suspenseful, funny, and educational, while still bring in some interesting concepts to give you guys a new twist on things to keep in interesting.

The Name of the story is “Untitled” because i want to secure the  actual name first before anyone steals my idea. So for now it’s called Untitled. if this is good enough for y’all i’ll just  put this on WattPad or some other reading platform so future chapters won’t take up you’re dashes too much, plus it’ll be on a main platform to do more with. Like i’ll only post preview of the chapters with the link to the main site

or if y’all want to keep them here just tell me, doesn’t matter too much to me

THE HYPE CREATORS:@jinkies-im-black​ @pendent123​ @wanderlustlovechild @b-th3light​ @lemonysnicketysnacks​ @cjtolduso​ @rosellajosephphotos​ @nixie-319 @battleforthecity​ @briaarirose​ @tank-knows @sirlovett​ @jxvongabxn @xw2-ch​ @sweettea-and-honeybutter​ @mellowjellow6​ @shakespearedidnothavecumsh0ts​ @rollerworldisbonkers​ @jayteesee​ @lovelykladyk​ @brianabreeze​ @eca-law2 @brie-cheeze​ @cinnabearice @lovethemagicthatisee​ @misspooh​ @niggarachi15​ @majestic-gee-melanin​ @liddolalliah​ @hau-ghty​ @caramelbunn @stainlessstill @dadinhas-heat @wakandamama​ @ashleychristina73​ @terrablaze514​ @beautifulbeckii​ @mattiekins​ @aria725​ @lostthoughtssince98 @midknyghtwolf @xxi-twentyone @lashaysaurusrex​ @rosethorn213​ @funkdawg99​ @shasunshine​ @datbwanglis @fatboyyogi​ @allinhishands​ @therollinstoner​ @orenthaljane @kittyslove​ @carringtonhardin​ @honeyglowingupbeautiful-official @chasingsunlight​ @1-800-issabae​ @lisztisjusthere @17mul​ @tumblytunes​ @shinyanchorface​

THANK YOU ALL FOR HYPING ME UP. But if this is trash just know i place responsibility on y’all. Y’all asked for it so this is how it’s gon be lol

But seriously thank you guys for even showing interest enough to want more. I’m trying to take this project seriously so as long as y’all want it i’ll keep making them until the end.

Also let me know if you want me to keep tagging y’all. I do these chapters every Friday soooo you could just cut that notification on for me and save me time

just putting that out there.. plus i rarely upload too soo any content you see from me is my own stuff, unless im showing support to someone.

But hey, if you wanna get tagged instead thats cool too.

If you guys have any suggestions like the length of the story, or questions on about me or the story just send a ask. I answer  most of them on weekends or randomly.

Thank You all once again and i hope to see some good feedback 😬👍🏾

[higgins5]

Tag game

Oof, this is so so late, but I am doing it! And thank you to the lovely @foxsoulcourt for tagging me!

LAST

drink: Water, we are being healthy children here 

phone call: My District Manager at work to discuss my transfer

text message: One of my best friends about his terrible life choices (jk but really binge watching a show for 14 hours straight? Boy get to sleep!)

song you listened to: I’m Over You by Bryan James (it may or may not have been on loop for a while)

time you cried: Last Thursday 

EVER

dated someone twice: Haha, yep. Didn’t work out, but we’re still friends

kissed someone and regretted it: Not yet!

been cheated on: Unfortunately

lost someone special: I think we all have, but such is life

gotten drunk and thrown up: Oh god no

fave colors? Sea green, storm gray, oh I can’t believe i almost forgot! Really any deep blue or purple, like how the night sky gets just before it’s almost black

IN THE LAST YEAR HAVE I?

made new friends: Multiple, and i am so greatly for all of the lovely people who have graced my life

fallen out of love: Not so much people. But things I believed I loved turned a little false, yes

laughed until you cried: Gosh, all the time. It’s awful, I call it my seal laugh because I’m laughing so hard I can’t breathe and i’m just doubled over hitting a table or my leg to express my joy because that’s all I can do

found out someone was talking about you: Just two weeks ago! And honestly I hate that. Like if you’re gonna talk bad about me just do it to my face. I’ll find out one way or another, might as well be from you

met someone who changed you: Some good people, some not so good people. But I believe it was all for a reason

found out who your friends are: Yes

kissed someone on your Facebook friends list: Hmm... Well, I do not actually have a Facebook so I guess that would be a no

GENERAL

how many of your Facebook friends do you know in real life: I guess I can clarify about FB here. My parents were always freaked out about the internet so never let me get one, and being a good child I never did- plus I was just not interested, so I just... never got around to it in adulthood. AND like whenever I needed to talk to a friend through FB I just used my parents page cause that was their solution, so there was no real need. But like, from the friends I had on my mom’s page yes, I know all of them irl

do you have any pets: SEVERAL AND I LOVE ALL OF MY FURRY CHILDREN! I have an 11yo poodle/terrier mix (mom was a poodle, dad was the terrier next door. Truly a scandal) named Bear and i love my grumpy old man to death; a 2yo boxer/husky mix we rescued that was originally supposed to be a lab which was a total lie named Nutmeg, but it’s okay I love my babe even if i can take her on a 3mi run and she’s still ready to run 3 more; an 8yo wonderfully affectionate and beautiful tabby cat named Willow; a 6 year old (oh my god, she’s 6, it feels like yesterday she was a satellite dish in a collar that meowed) purring machine tabby cat named Sage; and two beautiful girls. Lagertha and Gwenievere are two very playful and loving one year old dumbo eared rats

do you want to change your name: Eh, not really. I’ve had it for this long, might as well keep it

what did you do for your last birthday: Oh that was so fun. I went to the Melting pot (this fancy fondue place, so good) With a couple of friends and had a really great time, even though someone got me crayons as a gag gift (I.... hate, crayons with a PASSION, but she’s known me for like 10 years so of course I accepted.... hesitantly)

what time did you wake up today: Like 7:30? but i didn’t actually leave my bed until 9ish because don’t be fooled, I am not a morning person. I just run because I’m an idiot

what were you doing last night at midnight: Sleeping

what is something you can’t wait for: Figure out where life is taking me and then be a bomb ass bitch at it

what are you listening to right now: X&Y by Coldplay

have you ever talked to a person named Tom: I have, and he is a lovely person. Go talk to a Tom everybody, nice people

something that gets on your nerves: Horrible people. Like just those people that are horrible for no absolute reason. Like grow up, get a life, why do you have to make other people just because you’re unhappy. there are many people you could see for help and I have a number you can call if you need a recommendation 

most visited website: Probably a tie between Tumblr, Youtube, and Spotify

hair color: Well, naturally I am blonde but rn it’s a reddish auburn color (but hey, people ask me all the time if it’s my natural color so who knows maybe i was destined for this shade)

long or short hair: ish? It’s growing from a pixie (that I might go back to soon) so its like... not quite shoulder length yet but give it another month and we might be there

what do you like about yourself: You know what, i’m gonna give myself some love and say everything. Lol, but as a serious answer probably my personality/nature. I have a very big heart but am also incredibly sarcastic so it is a delicate balance 

want any piercings: SO many. I’m saving up to get my nose done soon (nostril) and later I’ll get my daith, helix, third piercing in my lobe, tragus, and maybe rook

blood type: Some kinda O? Honestly for someone who donates blood as much as I do, I should really know (but important blood donation note, if you wish to make sure not to do it too frequently! Healthy people = healthy blood = healthy donation receivers!)

nicknames: Gosh, too many to type. Apparently I’m just nick namey. But uhhh, the most common: Ash, Ashbash, Higgins, Higgy, Higgs, Figgins, Chief 

relationship status: Single

zodiac sign: I’m one of the twin fish babes, Pisces all the way

pronouns: She/Her

fave tv show: Don’t watch as much tv as I used to but Supernatural is always a good go to (recently I’ve been watching a lot of HGTv and doctor Phil and Hallmark with my mom though, if that’s anything)

tattoos: None (yet)

right or left handed: right handed, I’m basically useless with my left (unless an instrument is involved)

ever had surgery: Nope, and hopefully we keep that trend goin!

piercings: two ear piercings 

sports: Uh... in High School I was pretty active and track and I was a competitive shooter (air rifles- but I’m from Texas so). Nothing in college at the moment, I might try out for the track team just cause i miss bein a part of stuff

vacation: I am broke, I can only dream (but I do really wanna travel, so gotta save up!)

trainers: my totally stylish suede brown vans are my go to, but Adidas for running

eating: Currently? Nothing, but I did have some steamed broccoli and carrots&rice, and grilled chicken for dinner

drinking: Orange Juice

I’m about to watch: Absolutely nothing

waiting for: Didn’t I already answer this? it’s so much pressure. Uh... change?

want: To be successful in whatever I 

get married: Eventually

career: Haven’t gotten there yet, but everyday is one step closer

hugs or kisses: Depends on who and when

lips or eyes: Eyes. First thing I notice

shorter or taller: At 5′3 I don’t think I can even pretend to say i’m tall

older or younger: I probably fall more on the younger spectrum

nice arms or stomach: Yes

hookup or relationships: I am a committed relationship kinda person all the way. Never really understood the whole hookup thing but to each their own

troublemaker or hesitant: A hesitant troublemaker is probably more me. I say I try to stay out of trouble, but it just kinda finds me

HAVE I EVER?

kissed a stranger: No

drunk hard liquor: Yes

lost glasses: Ugh, all the time, worst is when I lose my contacts AND glasses

turned someone down: Yes

sex on the first date: Not my style

broken someone’s heart: Yes

had your heart broken: In love and life

been arrested: Nope, and i’d like to keep it that way!

cried when someone died: Yes

fallen for a friend: Yes

DO I BELIEVE IN?

yourself: Well someone has to, so might as well be me!

miracles: I do. And if they aren’t true, at least the belief of their existence helps make their outcome possible

love at first sight: In some fairytale world maybe, but for me, nah

kiss on the first date: Possibly

angels: Yes. Of what way and form I think that’s for you to decide

OTHER

best friend’s name: I have a couple because there is too much life to only need one person in it! Lexi+Brittany+Mauricio+Imaya from all the way back to middle school and Ronan (a recent addition)

And even if we don’t talk every day of our lives I know they’ll always be there for me when I need them. Good or bad. And they know I would do the same. That’s all that really matters in the end. They’re my little chosen family

(oh that got a bit sappy, okay moving on)

eye color: Light blue? Blue? I dunno, people say it’s pretty so I go with it

fave movie: Don’t really have one...

favorite actor: Yeah... same with movies, don’t have one of those either

extrovert or introvert: I like to call myself an introverted extrovert

favorite flower: white peonies 

favorite hello kitty character? I wasn’t aware there were characters aside from hello kitty....

oof this is a long post, but very fun to do! Hopefully y’all haven’t done this yet but if so well I’m gonna tag you anyways @i-h8-u-no-u-dont @pansexualpandion @rvmengf @egglorru @it-has-the-gay-fanfiction and really @ anyone who wants to do this! I’d love to see your versions!!