#so like no hopes are getting high alright

[afewfantasies]

🗡️ꜰᴇʏᴅ'ꜱ ʙʟᴀᴅᴇ 🗡️ - VIII - MONSTERS & MUSES

MASTERLIST

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 5.6K

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Feyd-Rautha x Reader

ᴘʟᴏᴛ: Separated by a twist of fate, Feyd-Rautha searches for his betrothed across the wide expanses of Arrakis. He uses his cunning and brutality to inspire cooperation and to track his lady. While in the desert familiar characters Paul Atreides and Chani make an appearance.

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: NSFW, minors do not engage, sexually explicit content and violence.

______

VIII - Monsters & Muses

Grinning Feyd tilts his head looking at the man before him.

It's no laughing matter.

His smile is deceptive in nature

Like any predator, a visible smirk

The showing of teeth means danger.

Rotating his wrists Feyd feels the weight of his blades as blood drips around him. Most high lords had people for torture or executions but Feyd-Rautha never strayed from seeing what the men who tried him were made of. Down to the sinew. There was an intimacy to using his blades and a ferocity that couldn’t be undermined by his slightly amused persona. Feyd’s viciousness and vitriol lies in his relentlessness, his patience, his commitment to seeing everything through. There was nothing he wouldn't do for you, no stone he wouldn't turn in the pursuit of your retrieval.

Feyd enjoyed an audience. He hadn't built his reputation on kindness. He needed people to tell of what they'd witnessed. He hoped word would travel fast that the Harkonnen heir flayed two men for their participation in your abduction. Word would travel that he had done it with a smile, without mercy, or hesitation. They would tell tales about his unsightly appearance. Crimson blood against his alabaster complexion, guts all over his clothes. About the other men he’d killed violently before freeing these two of their skin. People would recall how he’d stood up for hours, how he hadn't stopped looking for you, how he hadn't tired of doling out grave punishments. There would be no quick deaths, only long drawn out painful ones. He could hear the whispers declaring him to be someone monstrous. He could see his staff trembling as they brought his refreshments. He could feel the fear dripping from every person around him. He didn't want to feel any kindness if it wasn't from you, there was no warmth or light in his world in your absence and everyone would feel the darkness your absence brings. 

Fear went a far way further than respect, so Feyd used that to his advantage. It’s a vulnerability to be exploited. He has taken note of everything, tracking the men who scurried off like rats. They would fall into his traps or lead him right to you. He noted that the Fremen were more angry than anything else about his decrees but so long as you were gone every man within his control would suffer his same fate. He’d cleared the city of Arrakeen of the women and children, he’d even managed ambushes in several neighbouring cities in the hope of your retrieval but it had been unsuccessful thus far. Instead of executing the most vulnerable, he did far worse by placing them in a harem to give their men hope of getting them back. Then Feyd pointed missiles at the structures filled with the vulnerable. His methods were malevolent but so was your abduction.

His woman and unborn child taken right under his nose. Just several feet away within his palace without commotion or any major resistance. Your abduction has the Baron’s stench all over it. Feyd makes a promise to himself that the Baron’s punishment will be the worst of them all. Leaving the torture chambers he heads to rid himself of the matter and blood. Feyd’s thoughts are on you as he tries to tune into the connection he’d felt that led him to you. He tries to focus on that connection hoping for a miracle. He wants you to be alright, he wants you to feel safe, to know he’s coming, that no further harm will come to you.  There was nothing Feyd-Rautha wouldn’t do for you, he needed you to know that, needs you to know how hard he’s trying, he feels so close and yet so powerless. Looking up at the mirror in front of him Feyd slams a fist breaking the glass out of anger, shattering his reflection. He didn’t want to see himself without seeing you. Blood drips from his knuckles into the sink and Feyd turns on the water to wash it down with him. Staring into the drain he watches the water flow into an abyss, unseen and unheard of again. Shutting the water off he looks at his hands. He’d spent far too much time training to be a killer and far too little being a protector. His exhaustion has been stretched far beyond what is capable for the average man but there had never been anything average about Feyd. Looking at the blood pooling on his knuckles he turns on the water again watching it wash away the blood. Unclenching his fists he wraps a bandage on his hand to stop the bleeding and swelling. He looks at himself in a shard of glass when an idea settles his nerves. In his torture of a holy man he found out the secret to killing sadworms. As sacred fixtures of Fremen culture it would be an ace in his pocket. Without the fear of sandworms the Fremen’s remote hideaways could be easily accessed.

Swallowing hard Feyd nods to himself as the plan's conception grows. A slow smile creeps onto his face, he now had his terms and they would be met. Rushing to his war council Feyd looks at the live maps of the planet settling  on the view of the most fortified Fremen city. The stronghold was undoubtedly where you would be held. Grabbing a pen and parchment he prepares a scroll and then has a Mentat prepare a translation with his terms to be dropped. He would not go begging. He would not jeopardise your safety with perceived weakness but what he will do is exploit the people who would keep you from him by all means. 

——

You squirm trying to worm yourself free of the through restraints binding you to a stone pillar, the heat is relentless and your still suit can’t seem to produce enough water. You’re alone, echoes and the odd person coming to check on you are the only signs of life in your vicinity. It had been a gruelling trek, then you were sitting in a cool room when a battle ensued. Then after it was all said and done you were being passed off from Harkonnen traitors to Fremen soldiers. The Fremen soldiers had done the right thing with their murder of the Harkonnen. Kill or be killed. Instead of killing you the Fremen were gentle, allowing you time to maintain a slower pace and even going underground when the sun peaked, stifling you. Your concept of time is blurred as you sit in this subterranean cavern. The heavy concentration of Spice has your abilities and senses out of whack disabling your abilities' potency around Fremen. The whispers tell you that Feyd is wreaking havoc  but you don’t fully understand the thick accents and complicated dialects being used. 

“Let me go” you demand and a tall man that seems to be in charge turns to face you.

“Not until Usul arrives” he responds.

“You don’t look like a Harkonnen concubine” he muses. “You’re not ugly enough or bald” he mocks. Your abduction had been a coup. Harkonnen men disguised as Fremen. There was only one culprit, the baron who wanted you disposed of along with the Fremen people, what better way to get it done then to have you killed by the Fremen and Feyd end their race in one fell swoop. Then the spice would flow with such abundance House Harkonnen would be uncontested leaders within the imperium and favourites of the emperor.

“We’re being played I want to speak to your leader” you snap squiring more.

“Harkonnen whores are highly trained in seduction, black eyes steal the souls of men. You will make no demands until you see Usul” he says, reciting folklore that couldn't be further than the truth.

“Feyd-Rautha will cause more destruction the longer I’m gone” you warn and his eyes show emotion. His reaction tells you Feyd has already caused considerable damage. You watch as he makes calculations weighing his options.

“We wait for Usul” he concludes.

“Usul had better hurry” you comment and the man pauses looking at you over.

“You’re unarmed, bound and captured but you have no fear - you must be Fremen'' he scoffs. But it’s not the case, you just don't fear them for fear's sake. You’ve done absolutely nothing to warrant their vengeance aside from your allegiance to Feyd-Rautha. Feyd who makes all of their darkness look light. You hold his blue eyes and before you can conjure the voice the mans smile blurs your vision again causing a sting. “Perhaps not” he mocks, taking off one of his scarves and putting it around your mouth. The gesture is a charity and not an attempt to gag you. Here in the desert, strength honours strength. Swallowing you feel sympathy for what must be done.

“Have you ever known peace? Freedom?” You ask.

“No” he says regretfully.

“If Arrakis were no longer at war what would you be other than a soldier?” You ask and he pauses, unable to conceive that reality. It’s an awful truth and reflection of the horrors of house Harkonnen and the Emperor have caused the people of this planet. How could they subject people to this for generations? How could you be surprised by how the Baron treats his own citizens subjecting many of them to slave like conditions. When you look back to the man his eyes seem different, the effects of the spice take root causing you confusion.

“Your eyes understand hardship” he comments with wisdom despite his youth. “There are whispers that you are kind, generous and gave people water and aid to a mother with her sick child. Why would you be with a Harkonnen?” the man asks. There’s no honest answer, there’s no logical reason for why. Why had your father had chosen Feyd-Rautha above all other eligible sons with status? Why had your mother agreed and encouraged it the union? There was nothing to explain the magnetism and attraction you felt to him. The quiet reassurance that he was yours, the electricity, the child gestating in your womb.

“Reasons beyond reason or logic, matters of the heart and destiny are not easily understood” you admit unable to deny him even in the face of his enemies.

“Then why would his people give you up?” the man asks.

“To be a detriment to yours” you explain and the man sits. You see understanding before you see recognition.

“I know your face” he says looking at you and it echoes into your subconscious. Your vision blurs again and it takes work to focus on the man in front of you. He closes the space between you and cuts your bonds before stepping back. You hear gasps and realize for the first time you're not alone as angry blue eyes emerge from the shadows. You feel unnerved until the man removes his face coverings. The picture of him comes together as a puzzle. A familiar one. Your jaw drops as you make out a ghost from a past life. Overcome with emotion you hug him grateful for the twist of fate.

“You’re alive” you smile standing face to face with Paul Atreides.

“You’re alive” he repeats, hugging you tight. Angry Fremen comments erupt in a flurry as you take in his face, his new height, his eyes, his hair.

“You survived” you smile.

“And you did too. My father looked for you until he was killed. There were rumours but …” Paul says and you swallow hard realizing how deep the conspiracy flows.

“What?” Paul asks and your heart races, you go to walk out but bump into a soldier, the spice is affecting you tremendously. You look up and see the man who’d been caring for you. Paul emerges with a syringe. “It’s an antidote” he says and you withdraw.

“I can’t” you tell him to be cautious of your child. It’s as though Paul senses it as another soldier runs in.

“Chani, take her to guest chambers,” Paul says, receiving scrolls. Looking up at the woman from your visions emerges. She’s tall, striking and angry. Her strides are powerful, she gets bows of respect from everyone you pass. When you arrive in a room she scowls as you sit. She’s skeptical.

“How do you know Usul?” She asks. Her tone speaks volumes to who she is to Paul.

“Paul Atreides?” You ask.

“Usul” she corrects and you swallow because names don’t matter.

“His father the Duke and my mother were childhood friends. I spent countless holidays on Caladan. Paul and I were friends” you explain.

“Now you’re carrying a Harkonnen” she says with a tone laced in judgement. “Your suits reservoirs are low for an outsider the Harkonnen way is excess so there’s no wonder there isn’t much water left. It’s why you’re so susceptible to the spice. Slight dehydration” she explains without kindness, warmth or affinity. “He’s a monster, Feyd-Rautha” she says.

“He is” you acknowledge. “But he’s not your enemy” you speak truthfully. You know better than most that you’re all victims of the machinations of men blinded by their pursuits.

“The things he’s done …” she trails, shaking her head. She’s so angry her body trembles.

“There’s far more at play then we know, isolation will only further the objective of our enemies. I was taken by Harkonnen and it was made to look like I was taken by the Fremen. Feyd will listen to me, he will not do as I say but returning me will put an end to whatever madness he’s conceived as punishment for my abduction.” You explain.

It had been death by a thousand cuts for your assault.

An inconceivable amount of violence that didn’t seem to shock or surprise anyone. The cruelty of Giedi Prime was unmatched. On Arrakis the climate was brutal as is the subjugation of the people by their reigning overlords. However, life among the people is easy and loving. In stark contrast to the Harkonnen planet. While the Rabban had excelled in cruelty, Feyd-Rautha enjoyed breaking down the minds of men, toying with them, bringing them to the brink and then unrelenting slowly making them lose their minds. He had patience he would start slow, he was methodical, precise and deliberate in each act. He was the ideal weapon of choice, and now all his efforts were concentrated on the wrong place.

Looking up you swallow at Chani who turns her back to you in the thick silence. Her hand slowly palms her own stomach. It’s an unconscious gesture in a moment of deep thought. It lasts only a second before she turns back to face you. You recognize the concern in her eyes. The wavering commitment to her cause.

“He has villages worth of women and children in one of the forgotten palaces. Explosives are pointed at them” she snaps. “He’s desecrated our temples and two cities and now he threatens to tell the guild how to kill the sandworms” Chani says. You swallow hard knowing it isn’t the half of what he’s done. You know the sandworts are consecrated entities to the Fremen and close your eyes as you imagine what Feyd had to do to get that information - likely from a priest.

“Have him clear out the women and children from the palace. Paul won’t let you go back to him. The war will rage on and too many innocents will lose.” She says adjusting the still suit. She begins listing off exit instructions and although you're skeptical you feel drawn to her. It’s not until your final goodbyes that you realize what’s happened. You feel it but it’s not quite you. The alarm in her eyes says she feels it too. The feeling is a kin tothe magnetism between you and Feyd. There’s a fierce level of protection you feel for the woman and you see its mutual. Her hand rests over her stomach as she tries to make sense of it. 

Destiny.

You smile at the thought of your child and Pauls finding each other one day. Nodding in her direction the future is promise enough to keep you moving, you follow Chani’s direction hoping against all hope you make it to Feyd.

——

Feyd looks around your room, in your absence and in his rage he had found a way to occupy Leia and his staff. He would not release you, he would not yield to his enemies or the desert. You would return to him. He believed it the same way he had when he searched for you relentlessly. Feys stands looking out into the expanse, the extent of his commitment to your return is all around him. Traitors hang off the city wall and heads line it’s base. It’s unsightly and grotesque and an example of how all life will be until for everyone so long as you are kept from Feyd. Looking at the sun he sighs having waited long enough for word. Every person on Arrakis should be looking for you, the search party should be infinite, you should be in his care. He should be apologizing on his knees. He should be making up for all the love lost. Atoning for his actions, for his shunning, his reaction to your devotion and inability to keep him safe. He needed to feel you in his arms, against his skin, he needed to lay his hand over your stomach. He needed to see your smile, the swell of your breasts, your scent, your touch, the satisfied moans that come from your deep pleasure.

He loves you so much it’s taking everything in him not to crack under the weight of your absence. The humiliation of his failure, his inability to enact your return. It was like Feyd had been castrated and cuckold. No amount of violence could erase that simple fact, no amount of fear he placed in others could remedy what he feels inside. A piece of his heart was alone in the vast desert of Arrakis. In his heart he senses you. Deep down Feyd knows you’re alive but every time he goes to follow the sensations its scrambles ad leaves him disoriented and spinning. He hoped that knowing he was fighting was enough to get you to do the same. To fight for him and your child. Marriage would be his first order of business and then he would not let you out of his sights. People would believe there was an invisible tether keeping the two of you connected. There would be whispers of your witchcraft and strong effects on him.

Heading to his council room he looks at the live map of Arrakis again, there was a line outside the palace with people coming to confess information on your abduction. Feyd’s hand hovers over the missile detonator, the weight of not having you with him mounting. Horrible intrusive thoughts come to him, tempting him to act out of rage prematurely.. Static begins on the iradio, Feyd rotates the dial to tune it. The static continues until Feyd is able to pick up Fremen. Focusing on clarity Feyd tunes it to the very moment he makes out two words in the foreign dialect.

Harkonnen escaped.

It’s all Feyd needs. 

Standing he leaves suiting up. He’d always been a renegade soldier and now would be no different. Soldiers straighten as he enters the room storming through the halls with purpose. Feyd cannot jeopardize your well being when he knows there’s a possibility he hadn’t rooted out all treachery. In the event that his uncle had found a motivator more powerful than fear, he had to be decisive and quick. Feyd-Rautha knows it’s a game of chance, that the stakes are stacked against him. Should you end up in the hands of the Baron, Feyd would become no better than the other slaves on Geidi Prime. It would be the final straw. That could not be his fate or yours. Rabban, the Baron and anyone else who dreamed of separating you from Feyd would die. He would create his own family with you. Putting on his helmet as he the aircraft, Feyd allows his senses to set the coordinates. Arrakis seldom reveals its secrets; there were countless settlements, tunnels and forts that only the Fremen could locate. To foreigners all there is, is sand as far as the eye can see with the dunes shifting hour by hour, day by day. He could not depend on anything external any longer, he would follow the pull in his chest. Quieting his mind Feyd-Rautha feels the magnetism in his chest grow as he charts a course in accordance with it.

“Where is the nearest building?” He asks and a few soldiers pull up a map passing over ruins. Feyd stops at the ruins zooming in. He sees heat signals outlining men. Technology had been outlawed by the imperium, especially certain weaponry but the Harkonnen seldom followed the rules. Programming his pets he tosses redesigned hunter seekers from a hatch. The poison will disable a person in seconds and the weapon is undetectable, no more different in size and appearance than a large beetle. “Drop me here” Feyd says adjusting his gun, he preferred knives but getting close enough for combat with Fremen was unwise. “No one shoots” he warns as his boots hit the ground. Feyd feels you close and doesn't want a shootout to scare you into hiding.

“Yes my lord” his men repeat as he drops. The rubble of the building ruins is littered with disabled Fremen.

“Bring them back to the ship for questioning” he commands storming into the caverns alone.  There’s an odd sense of deja-vu and symmetry to it. Feyd-Rautha alone searching through caverns and rooms looking for you, while you are acutely aware of how close he is but unsure of how or where he will finally appear. The heat is stifling and as much as you want to remove your still suit you know it's keeping you alive, keeping your child hydrated. Pausing, you hear footsteps and move quietly. The footsteps slow as well. You make sure your face is wrapped hoping the dim lighting won’t highlight the absence of Fremen eyes. 

Backing off the path you deviate to hide your heart racing so fast you try to find a weapon in the absence of your own abilities. You try to move quietly but seize when your back hits into a person. Alarms go off in your head as you tense out of fear and regret. Your ears ring, you feel tension in your heart and throat.  Behind you Feyd-Rautha smiles as you walk back into him, your body fitting perfectly against his. Even dressed as a Fremen with no skin showing he knows it’s you and places one arm across you pulling you into him. Your iciness thaws in moments. Turning to face him he rests his head against your forehead in relief. There are no words exchanged as he pulls down the scarves covering your mouth. His lips find yours and you kiss him showing him all the love you can muster. Your regret for rejecting him is deep seeded. You pull him close as he stands there reveling in the relief of your return. He could feel the fight in you, feel how much you wanted him back. Feel your need for him. He’d almost lost you. 

“Come, let’s go home” Feyd says, picking you up bridal style. He knows you’re weary, he doesn’t need to ask, he takes the lead relieving you. As he emerges from the caves his men watch in shock.

“Kill” he says into his watch and the insect assassins do just that to everyone but either of you. He needed you, he needed silence, to let his guard down for there to be no interruptions. No recounts or recollections of the moment. He didn’t need it getting back to the Baron or the Fremen he just needed you. Walking up the plank Feyd sets you down lifting the hatch and going into orbit while shielded. The absence of life on board is eerie, so is the overwhelming feeling of hope you feel now that you’re with Feyd. The relief is overwhelming, if you had tears to spear they would fall but no water spills from your eyes as Feyd cups your face.

“Are you okay, are you hurt?” He asks.

“No” you respond and he takes your hand sitting you down as he pours you a glass of water. You drink it greedily and his eyes are all over you. After days in the desert you grow self conscious.

“Don’t do that” he warns with his soft lips against yours. “You're beautiful, always,” he says gently. His hand covers your stomach and he stands behind you removing the still suit. He bends helping you step out of it and kisses your stomach, you hold him there against you. The feeling is incomparable. The three of you are safe together and at ease.

“Free the Fremen women and children Feyd. Give this moment to them. They did not abduct me” you confess. Feyd looks at you, his eyes brimming with anger now.

“Who was it?” He asks only to have his suspicions confirmed.

“The Baron” you respond.

With that Feyd walks over to the table disengaging all security measures, letting the vulnerable go. Watching him you feel seized by surprise at his compliance. Unphased by his mercy he hands you another glass of water. You put it to your lips surprised by his lack of resistance. He tips the glass making sure you hydrate. The feelings you have for him are so strong they overwhelm you.

“Feyd, I love you” you whisper, finishing the water and setting the glass aside. He looks you over feeling the very same way. The shock of the past few days hit him hard and all at once.

.

“I love you … I” he stops turning to back you and you place a hand on his back. You rub circles as he takes his time.

“Show me” you whisper, needing him but he shakes his head in refusal. It stings and you withdraw only for Feyd to watch your wrists.

“Not until the spice is out of your system or it could hurt you and our child. I’ve put you at risk enough” he says choosing your well being over an overdue sexual reunion. The silence is thick and you decide to give him a moment changing the subject to other pressing matters.

“Paul Atriedes is alive, he’s the Fremen prophet you’re at war with” you inform but there is no smirk. No delight in a potential cat and mouse game, nothing behind his eyes aside from a quiet relief for you.

“I don’t care.” he swallows, clicking his jaw. You watch as Feyd fights against his inner animal. “I don’t care about any of it” he snaps with a thumb under your chin. His eyes narrow in on your lips as he sits bringing you closer. “I almost lost you, again” he snaps. His reaction is delayed but the clouds roll in all the same. He cared for the things that belonged to him, he was a protector and you’d been out in the desert because of his uncle's jealousy and pathetic pursuit of power. Sitting across his lap you wrap your arms around him relaxing your aching limbs in their safe place. Feyd watches you intently thanking all forces that you were back to him. He wouldn’t know how to control himself. He slides his hand under the hem of your top placing it on your stomach. One fell swoop and mother and child could’ve been gone. 

“I’m here” you say, drawing his eyes. “We’re okay” you add and he kisses your forehead again as the depths of his uncle's treason reveals itself to him.

“I'm sorry for everything I haven’t been able to protect you from” Feyd says out of frustration. Machinations of a mad man swimming around his mind. He’s ready to end it all, if he could the entire planet would be nothing but a memory, everything the Baron worked for. Reaching for the pitcher he pours you another glass watching you drink the water. Smiling, you rest your head in his chest.

“What?” He asks, raising his brow bone.

“I can almost hear the screams your thoughts are going to capture. I can feel the fear from your retribution” you comment honestly. Feyd turns his head to you, he’d been a witness to you being good, merciful and tolerant too many times for it not to be in your nature.

“That makes you smile?” He asks

.

“Anything that makes our lives together easier makes me smile,” you confess. “I’m with you, always” you promise. Feyd stands heading into living chambers, his hand guides you along with him. You realize he handles stress with silence, and kiss his hand. It’s an improvement from him requiring distance in his anger. He sets a bath filling the black tub with water, salts and oils. He undresses you slowly helping you in. He sits at the edge admiring you like a doll in his state of quiet anger. Dissociating his reflections run rampant. He’d lost and found you before. Only then as far as he knew you were safe in the care of the Bene Gesserit and not in the great expanse of Arrakis. Only then, you hadn’t yet been his. He’d never seen the beauty in your adult eyes. He’d never seen them smile. Never seen the fullness of your lips, or how they thin out when you smile. He didn’t yet know what it was like to crave you. Your presence, your body, your touch, your scent, your taste, your love. He’d never craved love before. You are and will always be the very best of him, his heart in human form and no one would ever take that from him and live to breathe or laugh about it. Looking at you in the tub is a physical reminder of the anguish the possibilities of a life without you would bring. 

Looking into your eyes he stands opting to cherish every moment. Unfastening his gear he removes his combat suit making sure his blades are tucked in the right compartments. You watch intently for the first time as Feyd-Rautha disrobes before you. Usually he removed your clothes during frenzied kissing and strong lust. Sitting back you admire his full physicality from his broad shoulders to his well endowed manhood. A lifetime isn’t long enough to appreciate him. Stepping into the tub Feyd takes his time getting in your gaze filling him with pride and confidence.

Spice vulnerability or not you need him.

“Don’t look at me like that” Feyd warns.

“Why not?” you ask.

“Makes me want to fuck you hard” Feyd confesses sitting opposite you. He takes your foot massaging it for you. 

“I'd probably like that” you confess embracing the here and now. You’d nearly lost him. 

“Every inch of me is yours” Feyd says and you wade through the water to him. “Feel this? It’s just for you” he whispers in your ear as you sit beside him he takes your hand placing over his dick. Leaning in for a kiss Feyd comes alive in your hand when he breaks the kiss, you steady your stroke taking care of the man who would do anything for you.

“Only me?” You ask, watching him and he nods

.

“Only you” he affirms, closing his eyes as you tighten your hand around his manhood stroking more deliberately. Instinct kicks in and his groans are an indicator of his arousal. You share a kiss speeding up just as he’s close and he grabs your hand standing up abruptly. It’s startling until you realize what he wants. Looking up you smile at the weight of him in your hands, his pretty cherry shaped head. Never breaking eye contact you kiss his tip, a naughty streak coursing through you.

“You’re perfect” he says through rugged breaths. You take him in your mouth sucking hard. Feyd’s eyes close as you handle him with care knowing instinctively exactly what he likes. The intimate kiss gives him a head rush, he steadies himself by placing a hand on your shoulders as you suck harder, bobbing your head faster. You revel in his body reaction, to feel the power you get from Feyd’s pleasure. In making him feel close to how good he makes you feel. He guided your head to his desired depth and pace singing you the filthiest praises as he teaches you how he likes to be pleased. You pool at his words of affirmation, his attentiveness and his size. He makes an impressive mess leaving remnants of his orgasm all over you and in the tub.

Standing slowly you watch his signature smirk emerge onto his lips. Slowly but surely Feyd returns from his despondence fully. Smiling, you file his reaction away in your memory. Breathing life into his cock could bring him back to himself, to the present, to loving you. “Good girl,” he whispers, helping you out of the tub. “My na-baroness” he says, pushing you into the shower. “When it’s safe, I’m gonna give it to you rough, make it fun for you” he whispers. 

“Hope that’s a promise” you remind and he nods, smirking in agreement.

“I can promise you that” Feyd smiles. “I can also promise you that this is the last time anyone separates us without our consent. I can promise it’ll all be over swiftly. I can promise after this I’m done with war because I’m just getting started with you” Feyd says, giving you the perfect bedroom eyes. 

“I’ll be right at your side” you promise and  the look in his eyes says he needs you right now. The air between you is electric and so is everything that is to come.

_______

As always thanks for reading & your support 🩶🩶🩶🩶 comment, like & reblog if you enjoyed!

_______

Taglist:

@elf-punk @dvmb4ssbiatch @thegabbyh @fanfiction-addict22 @meetmeatyourworst @jojoclown69 @lillypink @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @avidreader73 @emeraldsgirl33 @strawberryfieldsforevermore @rose-are-royal @delusionsofnostalgia @szapizzapanda @palomavz @mcswan02 @slutforsmut4ever @emeraldsgirl @jackiekae @sarahhelpimsinking @maat-the-prescriptive @moonsoulk @katherineswiftie2017-blog @melancholicmelanin @littlebugs @alexa4040 @unicoreads @mimsie95 @mamawiggers1980 @miaraised @7-reblogs @snwells @wo-ming-bai @wo-ming-bai

[bless-my-demons]

Redamancy: Chapter Twenty-Nine

Series Summary: What happens when your soulmate is a vampire that struggles to maintain a diet of trying not to kill you? Common sense says run for the hills, nothing is worth your life - but my heart is whispering why not, what’s there to lose?

Warnings: does a handsy Jasper need a warning?

Notes: oh my god it’s been so long, I’ve been eating myself up over not posting. I’ve been working myself to death, but I’ve finally got a long weekend off and so I used it to get back to what makes me happy - this story! Omg I hope you guys love it🥹 I also have to go through and update my taglist later tonight, so bear with me on that until I add it!

Word Count: 1500

Series Masterlist

• April 3rd, 2006 • Forks HS •

Reader

Tingly.

That’s the state of my body this morning, the state of my mind.

Not only am I riding an emotional high from our conversation this weekend, but my dream last night… Good lord, that dream.

I can feel the echoes of his fingers on my skin, the coolness of his lips, the wet trail they would’ve left behind… the solid weight of what surely his body would feel like, pressed against mine. I can imagine all of what it would be like vividly, to be under him, to get carried away, to just explore-

“You alright, darlin’?”

His voice jolts me from the day dreaming stare I had on the locker before me, caught red handed. To make matters worse, that deep southern tenor questioned me inches from my ear, causing a blush to heat my cheeks to an almost uncomfortable degree.

“Perfectly fine, why?” I immediately busy myself within my locker so that I don’t have to face him right away.

“You do remember that I can feel you, right?” His voice is low and his hands find my hips tenderly, but the air changes around us.

My heart rate skyrockets, this is dangerous. His fingers flex against me and the death grip I have on this book in my hands turns my knuckles white.

“Jasper-” his name is a whispered warning, but also a plea.

“I know.” Instantly a cooling, soothing balm blankets our tension and I release the tightness in my chest. Leaning backwards into him I just feel tired all of a sudden, like I had run a marathon. “Let’s get out of here.”

His request sounds more like a demand and I twist in his arms, “Is that a good idea?”

“Darlin’, I don’t have many of those these days.” His mouth quirks up in a lopsided grin as he shoves all of my school supplies back in my locker, shutting it and tugging me along behind him towards the student parking lot.

Jasper

Something is on her mind, something dangerous. Something I absolutely want to know, something I’m not sure I have the strength for, but I can’t help it - it’s her.

I’ve never been more thankful for an overcast day with no rain: perfect motorcycle weather. Come to think of it, my sister had a knowing look in her eyes as my siblings all piled into their respective vehicles as I straddled my bike this morning. A decision that currently led me to now: Y/n and I leaving school before midday.

Those thoughts I interrupted earlier have her quiet, but her emotions are raging and it is driving me insane. Curiosity, need, nervousness - a dangerous concoction begging to overtake my rational mind. Separating myself from her feelings is almost impossible at this point, she is so well ingrained in me.

Finally arriving at my thankfully empty home, I shut my motorcycle off and offer a steady hand to help her dismount. Swinging my own leg over, I turn towards her and lean against it, observing her for a moment with crossed arms.

“What?” She makes eye contact as she struggles with the chin strap of my helmet.

Grabbing the helmet by the chin piece, I gently tug her forward between my legs, “Tell me.” I lace the command with neediness to encourage her to be pliant.

And judging by the way her lips part behind the dark visor, the immediate dilation of her eyes, and the weight of her hands settling on my thighs gently, I might’ve laid it on a little too thick.

Chuckling, I free her from my helmet and riding jacket. By the time I finish, she seems to snap from the daze and her hands clench on top of my legs.

“Not fair, Hale.” Feisty this morning.

I lean forward towards her ear with a grin as I stand from my bike to put away the gear, “All’s fair in love and war, sweetheart.”

Reaching to swat my chest, I grab her hand gently before she could injure herself.

Pausing as I hang my jacket up, her teasing response sends excitement through me, “Two can play at that game, baby.”

Stepping into my room, I realize too late what has her curiosity: my desk. Well, the art that occupies every inch, my art.

“What is all this?” Leafing through pencil sketches of my favorite hunting spots and pen etchings of my family at random moments, she gets to the important ones hidden below. Her breathing hitches and I know she’s found them, the ones of her.

Some are in pencil, some are in random felt-tip pens, but my favorites? Those are charcoal. A decently basic medium, but I feel like it captures so much more than anything else ever could. Maybe it’s because I use my fingers to smudge and shape her perfect curves and lines, but it radiates emotion in sweeping gestures and subtle shading - something that’s hard to capture with anything else.

“There’s-” awe, shock, surprise, they all shuffle through her and I’m on edge, waiting to hear her thoughts. “There’s so many…”

I watch her carefully examine each one and I smile when she chuckles at a few - some of her at school, some of her here in my home, moments I not only committed to memory, but to paper.

“Now you know what I do with my free time.” I smile through the minuscule anxiety that bubbles up at her seeing my secret hobby. Everyone in my family knows I draw, but they haven’t seen my drawings.

“Jasper…” I can tell she’s getting emotional, but a part of me is excited for her to see my innermost thoughts on paper, to see herself through my eyes - the unaltered beauty she contains.

“You haven’t even seen the ones I cherish the most.” Opening a familiar sketchbook buried under many other drawings, I reveal my favorites. “The very first ones.”

Her breath hitches, running a reverent finger down the first page. It’s the very first moment I saw her, crouched, scooping up papers on her first day of high school in Forks - absolutely radiant.

“You were a vision that day. A beautiful tornado that wrecked my world, I tried to capture every detail from memory because I never want to forget-”

Her hand finding my cheek breaks me from my explanation and my eyes find her watery ones, mouth open, searching for words clearly hard to get out, “Jasper…”

“I love you.” My confession steals her breath completely this time, the first time I’ve uttered these words aloud and it feels absolutely right. “I’ve loved you since the moment you hit me with that door. I knew I was absolutely ruined for anyone else and I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Tilting her chin up with the tip of my finger as it wobbles at my confession, I smile, “Say something, darlin’.”

“I love you, too.” Now it’s my turn to go wholly still. “I knew from the moment I saw you I’d never be the same, I was yours-”

I couldn’t wait another second, I closed the minuscule gap between our mouths to seal these confessions. I love her and she loves me. Me.

Tilting her head back slightly as I cradle her, I take my cue to deepen the kiss, to pull her closer carefully. Groaning into her mouth, fuck I can’t get enough of her. Trailing kisses down her jawline as she tips her head to the side for much needed air, her gasps drive me to lift her onto my desk.

“Jaz…” her breathy plea of my nickname freezes me, panic seizing my actions.

“I am a gentleman, but only just barely.” My voice is gravel in my own ears, breathed down the slender column of her throat.

A shiver from her causes me to clench my jaw and attempt to gather myself.

“Maybe I don’t want a gentleman right now.” Her whisper damns me, it fucking sets me on fire.

A slamming door downstairs straightens my spine and my hands abandon the exploration of her. Fuck, my family’s timing couldn’t be better, but also worse.

“Honey, we’re home!” Emmett’s booming voice echoes up the stairs and immediately I know he knows, he can probably smell it.

Huffing, I help her regain her footing and straighten her clothes from the rumpled mess my hands made of it. I also take half a thought to smooth her arousal, a damn shame-but a necessity if we’re to face my siblings for the rest of the evening.

“Fucking Emmett.” Her frustration draws a chuckle from me as we make our way downstairs.

“I heard that!” My brother’s response causes her to roll her eyes at me playfully and I shake my head, my heart weighing much fuller in my chest as she plucks its invisible strings with her shit-eating grin.

Next

Taglist part 1:

@aoi-targaryen @Min-jianhyung @pbbsl @timelordhunterandmysterysolver @sheerangermany @clearwater-hoe @Blackbluerose666 @ivy-plays @random-human02 @delightfulbluebirdstarlight @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @gaymazinglula @l3ejm @angelfuzzy2 @losa12308 @thekinkpopstandsforkrackheads @flyawayprincess @ropickle @catbusloki @deviat3dsn0wf0x @lovesanimals0000 @unrevived @h-naec @cutesnakemum @zudooms @itsmytimetoodream @stinkii-boii @acoolnight @anothercoffeeblogx @irishblend10 @from-now-on-im-switzerland @kyraslife2 @naolvshan @kiiwiigii @rosedpetal @kiaraandrea @foolsgoldxo @heartfilia01 @azuredgalaxies @geekysimmerthings @graciereads @ramen-girl-2424 @0hmydekiru @creeqvealley @Cherriebat @whichwitchisthebitch @dragon-rider-with-a-book @secretfairytailpetscookie @psychobitchsthings

[queenimmadolla]

hi babes

word? Chronic

character? Steve

genre? Humor

trope? First time

xoxoxox

atomic betty, you have no idea how excited i was to see you in my inbox! i love your shit so much, this one is for you! i hope you like it, you wondrous woman ♡ 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐚 𝐛𝐢𝐭 𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐲 𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩

  Steve’s nervous.

  Steve Harrington is very nervous. 

  And Steve Harrington is rarely—when not in mortal peril—ever nervous. Ever.

  Regardless of discussion pertaining to the size of his head, Steve Harrington is blessed  with genetics that leave most envious. He’d been an adorable baby, who’d grown from a cute kid turned heartthrob teenager to a handsome man. 

  Steve has also gone through every stage in relation to those age frames. He’d been one pompous asshole when he was a teen and he’d grown significantly as a person in the years since. 

  The crown of King Steve was left behind, encased in the glass display of trophies and framed headlines of high school glory days. He’d traded it in for a new outlook on life, trying his hardest to remove himself from the claws of his father’s control and life a life completely of his own.

  He’d gone into the Business world right after he’d been able to move out, climbing, schmoozing, and sometimes low balling his competitors, to reach the top. Complete financial independence was finally his, and when Steve’s parents were ready to move on from Hawkins, he’d purchased the Harrington home from them—intent on filling those once lonely walls in that big house with laughter, love, and his own family. His kids. And…his wife.

  Steve’s love life fared more notoriously in high school than as an adult. 

  It’s not that he lacks charm or the interests of women—he’s had numerous hookups and one night stands since—when he’d been building a career, romance hadn’t been on the top of his list of priorities. He’d just wanted to scratch the itch; fuck a lot, and get back to business as soon as he’s had his orgasm, and she’s had her several. Personalities didn't matter. He didn’t need anything other than a willing body, warm mouth and wet holes. That was made clear to all his sexual partners, not a single one of them went in expecting more, though a few had left it craving so.

  Steve was sure all of them had fled the earth by the time he was finally ready to provide. 

  He had the home, he had the income, and he had all the love to give. And not a single woman he encountered in two years of dating since, clicked with him. There had been a couple he thought would be more permanent, stick around longer. It had been wishful thinking. 

  None of that mattered now, though. Not with you perched on the edge of his swimming pool, bare legs dangling in the water as you watch him do a few laps.

  You’d been dating for a couple of weeks now, and it almost terrifies Steve how much he cares for you. 

  It had started off as a friendly encounter, though Steve was immensely attracted to you, and when you didn’t seem to hate him, he’d gone in with some flirting. You’d returned it, he asked you out on a date, and the two of you hadn’t stopped; sharing something intense and electrifying in the best of ways. With you, he felt a level of comfort he hadn’t ever achieved before—which surprised him, as he once believed Nancy was his soulmate given how comfortable he had felt with her. You made him feel safe in ways he hadn’t known he was desperately searching for.

  He’s pretty sure it’s going to be you that shares his home with him. You whose belly swells with his babies, ready to fill the rooms. Or at least he’s hoping, praying, ready to beg whatever deity he has to that it’s going to be you. 

  That’s still not why he’s nervous.

  Steve Harrington is nervous because he’s pretty sure the two of you are gonna fuck tonight. 

  He’s fucked a lot, alright? He’s probably slept with more women than the average man, but it was all in good fun for both parties and solely based on getting off. 

  This is not one of those encounters. 

  He’s not just fucking you. There are so many strings attached and he cherishes each and everyone of those strings, so he’s nervous because a lot is riding on this, and while he’s eagerly looking forward to the possibility of you riding him, he doesn’t wanna fuck this up. 

  He’s pretty sure you’re it for him, The One, and he’s also pretty sure he won’t last the second he’s inside you, can feel you around him so yeah—he’s really fucking nervous.

  Apparently, it shows.

  Once he’s done trying to tire himself out—maybe that’ll make him last longer—he wades over to you and uses your lap to prop his arms up on.

  “You okay?” You ask, amusement coating your voice as you run your hands through his wet hair and Steve has to pry his eyes away from your tits. Letting you convince him to skinny dip with you after he’d cooked you dinner had also proved fatal to his libido. There’s no way you don’t notice what’s going on with him under the water.

  “Wha─? OH! No, yeah, I’m fine. Just. Swim.” 

  Your tits also seemed to do his brain in. God—you look so good.

  “I saw. You swam a lot. Looked like you were training for the Olympics.” 

  “I could have made the Olympic team.” He blurts out and you push him off of you to dunk him in the water instead. He emerges laughing as he wipes water from his face. When the two of you just started dating, he might have bragged a bit about his time leading the swim team enough to make it a taboo subject and now he does it to playfully annoy you.

  “So, what exactly are you nervous about?” You lean back, torso stretching out and hands on the ground behind you. Steve has a difficult time remembering how to speak English. He’s pretty sure he’s drooling.

  “Huh? Nervous? Me? You’re mistaken, honey.” He knows he’s caught. You already seem to know him like the back of your hand. It makes his heart flutter and his dick twitch.

  “You were nervous at dinner, too, not like right now but I swore I saw you sweating.” You muse aloud, legs swirling in the water again and Steve’s eyes fly to the space between them just as they close to conceal it. 

  He glances up to see you hadn’t even been looking at him, your stare focused on the lights he’d had strung up above the pool for night swimming as you ponder. You were just unknowingly teasing him.

  “No, no. Not nervous, remember?”

  “It can’t be the house, I’ve been here before…” You trail off.

  “So, we’re just pretending you can’t hear me.” 

  “But this is the first time I come over so late,” The smirk on your face is dangerous and Steve is positive he’s not lasting tonight, “Stevie, am I making you nervous?”

  Your demeanor is so teasing, Steve can feel his face heating up despite the allocation of most of the blood in his body being below hip level.

  “…You’re very beautiful.”

  You throw your head back as your pretty laughter rings out and Steve grins, happy to amuse you and reap the benefits of watching your chest.

  When you're done, your head lulls around and the smile you offer him would make his knees go weak if he was using them, “I might be able to help with that. Can I offer you a smoke?”

  “A cigarette wouldn’t hurt,” He muses, eyeing you curiously. 

  “Not a cigarette, Stevie, though I know you’re a chronic chainsmoker.” You pull your legs out of the pool and stand to retrieve something from your purse. Steve proves the phrase hate to see you go but love to watch you leave applies to your relationship as he unabashedly stares at your ass the entire time.

  When you return, you’ve got a yellow prescription pill bottle in one hand with your lighter in the other. 

  “Think it might calm your nerves.”

  Steve is on you the moment you re-settle yourself, crowding his upper half onto your lap as he smirks, “I think you might be right.”

  After you pull out a joint from your stash jar, and the filter is between his lips, you spark a light and he mumbles around it, “It’s been a while, be nice.”

  You know what that means, so when Steve takes his pull and hands you the joint for your turn, he immediately begins violently coughing and you expect it.

  You don’t expect him to be so focused on his violent coughing that he somehow forgets to float and immediately sinks into the pool. You let out a little shriek, toss aside the items in your hand, and push yourself into the pool after him, water rippling enough to splash over the sides.

  A few moments later, you both break through the surface of the water, Steve spitting out water he’d inhaled when he’d been coughing and gasping down there, and you lead him to the wall of the pool. Steve grips onto the edge, and you grip onto the sides as well.

  After Steve’s done coughing, he starts laughing hard, leaving you to throw him a bewildered look. It only makes him laugh harder, and you truly fail to find any humor in the situation until he wheezes out, “That was so embarrassing.”

  You roll your eyes, but a chuckle sputters out of you and soon you’re laughing with him, despite having ruined your hair and soaked the joint you’d left on the ground.

  “We are telling no one about this. It stays in this pool.” He declares around his laughter. You move closer to him and Steve’s laughter stops but his smile remains, soft eyes filling with lust as you’re nearly nose to nose.

  ”I won’t tell anyone.” You promise in a whisper and Steve barely has to lean in to claim your mouth, the taste of him and chlorine flooding your tongue. He dominates the kiss, mouth easily working yours as he pulls you in closer. Despite his slip up moments ago, you trust him to keep you afloat and press yourself to him, arms wrapping around his shoulders as his hands move to grip your ass, hauling you up and you can feel his head nudge against you.

  Steve doesn’t last long at all. But he makes up for it in recovery time and you go at it again in the pool. And once more on one of the lounge chairs, again immediately after the two of you make it inside, then in the shower, before finally ending in his bed.

  Turns out, he had nothing to be nervous about. You’re completely satisfied with everything he’s got to offer.

[morgana-larkin]

Got a prompt messaged to me by someone who wants to remain anonymous. The prompt is: Melissa likes reader or OC that looks like Jodie. And the woman in the picture with Jodie is the reader/OCs best friend. Melissa thinks the brunette is dating reader/oc but they aren’t dating.

I had a lot of fun writing this, I’ll be honest. Also I would have had this up yesterday but audition season is here and I’ve been really busy going to those. I left this on a steamy cliffhanger, I might make a part 2. I’ll post the picture it’s referencing at the end of the fic in case you want to see it for reference. Anyways, as always not edited in the slightest and I hope you like it!

On another note: After I’m finished with all the prompts I currently have, I’m thinking of writing Marilyn and reader (redheads are my biggest weakness… I regret nothing)

Blood As Green As Her Eyes

Warnings: Jealous Mel, references to smut, small not very detailed unfinished smut scene, good luck! 😉 😈

Words: 4.4k

Melissa walks into the break room and looks over to try and find you and sees you near the couch but you’re talking to someone she’s never met before. She walks a little further in and gets the tail end of the conversation.

“Alright see ya later beautiful.” You tell her.

“Right back at ya sweets.” The woman says and then leaves.

You see Melissa is there now and you go to her and sit at the table with her and Barb.

“Hello ladies.” You tell them and Barb smiles at you and Melissa glares at you.

“Who was that woman you were talking to?” She asks.

“Nicole? Oh she’s my best friend!” You say as you straighten your posture. “We’ve known each other for years. We met in high school and it was like instant connection.” You tell them excitedly.

Melissa doesn’t buy it though. With the way you talked to her and about her, it was obvious to Melissa that you’re dating her. Melissa ignores the sick feeling in her stomach.

The next morning you walk in the break room and your blonde hair is wet from the rain.

“Did you forget an umbrella hun?” Melissa asks you and you nod with a pout.

You go to sit down but then Nicole rushes in and you turn around.

“Hey you forgot your lunch on the way out. I gotta get to work but just wanted to drop it off quickly for you.” She tells you and hands you your lunch.

“Oh thanks love.” You tell her and Melissa scrunches her eyebrows. She knows you’re British, you have the accent and you told her, but the nickname threw her off.

“No problem sweets.” Nicole says and gives a quick kiss to your cheek then leaves. Melissa glares at Nicole the entire time. She clenches and unclenches her fists a few times to calm down. You put your lunch in the fridge then sit down at the table.

“Maybe I should go to the bathroom quickly and use the blow dryer to dry my hair.” You say with a chuckle and Barb laughs with you. Melissa just gives you a forced smile and you give her a confused look.

Melissa is bringing her kids to gym class that you teach. You see her and her class and you put your phone away instantly and give them a smile.

“Hey kiddos! Go on and get changed!” You tell them with a smile and they all run to the change room. You see Melissa still hanging around. “Hey, aren’t you gonna use the break to relax or whatever you do during this period?” You tell her curiously.

“No, I think I’m gonna hang around this time. Watch why they’re always so excited about gym class.” She tells you with a smile and you blush a bit.

“Alright! That’s not a problem at all! I would love for you to stay actually.” You tell her and the smallest blush makes its way to her cheeks.

“What were you doing on your phone btw? You put it away rather quickly. Are you sexting or something?” She jokes with you and you giggle.

“No! I was just texting Nicole something but it’s not as important as gym class.” You tell her and her blood boils a bit at the mention of her name. The kids start coming in with their gym clothes on and you turn to face them. “Alright guys! Today we’re playing dodgeball!” You tell them with a one clap of your hands and they all cheer. “And before we split up into teams, remember, no aiming at anyone’s face. And I’m looking at you Niyah.” You say and the girl just shrugs. Melissa goes to sit on the edge of the stage with her legs dangling off.

She watched as you picked 2 team leaders who then chooses their team. You then blow the whistle when they’re all ready with the balls in the middle of the gym. And then they all run to the middle to get a ball. You walk onto the stage and sit beside her and watch everyone. At some point, a ball comes directly at Melissa and you catch it then hand it to whoever is near you guys. You two end up talking while you still keep an eye on the kids.

And then Niyah throws a ball and hits a kid in the face and they fall. You immediately jump down and blow your whistle. “FREEZE!!!” You tell them and they all immediately stop and you run to the kid that was hit. “Niyah, we talked about this.” You tell her and she just shrugs again. You help the kid that fell to get up and make sure they’re alright. “Are you ok sweetie?” You ask very soothingly to him. He nods but looks upset. “Do you want to come sit with me and Ms Schemmenti on the stage for a bit?” You ask him and he nods again. You guide him to the stage and once he climbs up, you blow your whistle, signalling for the kids to continue the game. The boy ends up sitting in between you and Melissa and you look at his face again. “You have a small bruise forming but other than that, I don’t think there’s anything else.” You tell him and he seems upset that he got hit. “You know you’re very strong.” You tell him and he looks up at you. “You got hit in the face, fell down and you still got up.” You tell him with a smile. “That’s the mark of a strong person.” You continue and he smiles at you when you tell him that.

Melissa looks at you and sees how you are with the kids and can’t help but think of how beautiful you are, inside and out. 5 minutes later the boy asks if he can rejoin the game again and you nod at him. “Of course, you can rejoin whenever you want.” You tell him and he jumps off and runs back to the game.

You and Melissa continue talking and you notice how her hand is subtly touching your hip and you blush. The power this woman holds on you with just a touch.

In the morning the next day Melissa is on her phone scrolling through instagram. She’s mindlessly doing it until she comes across one of you and Nicole sitting together on a couch and you both have big smiles. Melissa freezes and stares at it and unconsciously grips the phone tightly.

“Melissa, are you ok?” Barb says and gently puts a hand on her upper arm for comfort.

“What? Oh, fine.” Melissa says and you walk into the room then and she smiles, then that smile immediately drops when she sees Nicole following you. “Actually I gotta go.” Melissa then says and grabs her stuff then stands up.

“Morning Melissa! Oh are you going somewhere? We were gonna join you.” You say innocently and with a big smile.

Barb sees how Melissa grips her pen so tight that her knuckles are turning white, while you are none the wiser.

“I’ve just got some stuff to do before school starts. I’ll see you later Barb.” She says with a frown and then walks out of there.

“Is she ok?” You ask Barb and she just looks at you confused as well. Then she replays in her head what happened. Melissa was scrolling on her phone through instagram and obviously saw something she didn’t like, then you came in and she smiled, and then it dropped. Why?

“Did you post something on instagram lately?” Barb asks and you nod. You showed her the picture you posted an hour ago that you took yesterday afternoon, then suddenly the pieces fall into place for Barb. Melissa likes you and she’s jealous of Nicole. Barb has to do some digging, cause while she doesn’t think you and Nicole are dating, Melissa might, and Barb has to be certain before she talks to Melissa. “Just out of curiosity dear, are you and Nicole going out? I mean like are you dating?” She asks and you shake your head.

“Me and Nicole?” You say while pointing towards you both, even Nicole is confused by the question.

“Why would you think that me and y/n are dating? I mean not that there’s anything wrong with y/n, it’s just, she’s not my type. Gender wise.” Nicole says.

“I mean ya I guess we can come across as a bit flirty but we’re just comfortable with each other.” You say with a smile. “Besides she’s not my type either, personality and looks wise.” You say and Nicole nods.

“Ya y/n is a great friend but would be a terrible partner for me.” Nicole says and all 3 of you laugh.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what is your type dear.” Barb asks you and you have to think about that. You know your type, and it’s Melissa, you have a crush on her and the only person who knows about your crush is Nicole and she’s been pushing you to get closer to her and ask her out. You want to tell Barb but she’s Melissa’s best friend, and while you know Barb won’t tell her if you tell her not too, it’d still be awkward if she knew. So you have to say your type without letting on that it describes Melissa.

“Well I guess women that have like a lot of spice to their personality, like they’re not plain.” You say with a big smile. “And I guess I do have a soft spot for fiery redheads.” You say a bit cautiously and you see that Barb’s expression hasn’t changed so I guess she hasn’t figured it out yet, so you continue. “And older women, I think they’re hot.” You say and Nicole playfully smacks your shoulder.

“Ya you and those milfs, I swear.” She tells you and you giggle. Barb looks at you two confused.

“What’s a Milf?” She says and you both look at her.

“It stands for Mom I’d Like to Fuck. But it’s also meant to describe older women that you think are hot.” You explain to her and her eyes widen a bit but you think it’s because of the description of Milfs and not of the woman you like.

“Is there anyone that you like right now dear?” She asks you and you nod timidly.

“Ya she does!” Nicole says and you glare at her. “I’m gonna leave now, gotta get to work, see ya sweets.” She tells you and waves at you and Barb goodbye.

“Is it Melissa?” She asks you and you snap your head at her and eyes wide a bit. That was all the answer Barb needed but of course you try to defend yourself.

“What?!? N-no…of course not! Why would you think I like Melissa?” You say, stuttering and stumbling through the entire sentence.

“I’m just wondering dear that’s all. I have something to do before school as well. I’ll see you at lunch dear.” She tells you and you say goodbye to each other.

Barb gets to Melissa’s room in time to see Melissa throw a pen across the room, and she sees no others on the redhead’s desk.

“How many pens have you thrown across the room?” Barb asks her and Melissa whips her head to her.

“I lost count.” She says to her, then goes to collect all of them. She picks up what looks to be about 10 pens and a couple markers and highlighters.

Barb wants to tell Melissa what she knows but thinks that Melissa might brush her off, so she decides to tell her tomorrow after she has time to blow off some steam. Which in retrospect, turns out to be a mistake.

Melissa goes to a gay club after to blow off some steam, and she ends up chatting it up with a girl there and then makes out with her at the club. You end up seeing that, as you also went to the club to try and move on from her since you think Melissa will never have an interest in you. Melissa ends up taking the girl home and you were watching her the entire night, she never saw you though. You really have to move on now. You end up telling Nicole what you saw and she said she can be around with you more in the mornings and after school so when you see the redhead, she can provide comfort for you.

So on the Friday morning, Melissa comes in with a small pep to her step as she had sex with the girl last night and you notice it. Nicole is with you though on the couch, you decided to stop sitting at the table with Melissa and Barb to avoid the redhead. As soon as Melissa walks in, she sees you and Nicole on the couch, and Nicole has an arm wrapped around your shoulders. Melissa gets angry at that and ends up taking it out on Jacob and throws his android at the wall with a “GO BACK TO THE BLUE BUBBLE!” She yells at him and Jacob tries to act like that didn’t faze or scare him.

You look over at Melissa when that happens and she catches your gaze. You two lock eyes for a second then you turn back to Nicole and Melissa stomps out of there. Melissa ends up telling Barb that she went to the gay club last night and hooked up with a girl, and later you end telling Barb that you went to the club as well when she asked what was wrong.

“I went to the gay club last night and being there just didn’t help anything.” You told her and even if you don’t say it, Barb knows you saw Melissa there, and she knows Melissa didn’t see you.

Over the next couple of weeks, Nicole has been coming with you into the break room in the morning or you go to your classroom with her to avoid the redhead, and she meets you after school to avoid Melissa as well.

“Hiya sweets!” She greets you one Friday afternoon and then you end up catching Melissa giving a glare in your direction. You see that it wasn’t directed at you though, it was directed at Nicole and you got confused.

You and Melissa both end up at the club again only it was reversed this time. She sees you there and you don’t see her. She sees you there alone looking upset and Nicole nowhere to be seen. And then she decides to go and talk to you. Before she gets to you however, a girl comes up and starts talking to you before she does. She freezes and sees that the girl is flirting with you and you seem to be liking it. That makes her confused because as far as she knows, you’re dating Nicole and you’re monogamous. She starts to get jealous again and stomps out of there before she starts a fight with either that girl who’s flirting with you or some random person.

On Monday morning she decides to talk to you at lunch. She knows that for some reason you seem to avoid the break room now so she’ll have to go down to your classroom. You at the moment are having a discussion with Nicole before school starts.

“What are you going to do y/n? Cause you can’t avoid Melissa forever and I can’t always come down to support you.” She says and you sigh.

“I know, it’s just hard right now. I mean ever since I saw her take that girl home a few weeks ago. I just keep thinking about it.” You tell Nicole and she nods.

“I keep telling you to talk to her.” Nicole tells you and you sigh.

“You know I won’t. You don’t have to come with me in the mornings anymore you know. I can just hide out in my classroom. I mean there’s what? 16 weeks left until summer break. And then I can spend the summer just getting over her. And then she’ll never even know how I felt cause then it’ll go back to normal next school year.” You say confidently. Melissa sees your door mostly closed and decides to keep walking, knowing that Nicole’s in there too. You hear her heels and you go and look out your door and see her walking to her classroom. You think it’s good that she didn’t stop by your classroom or else she might have heard your confession and you let out a sigh of relief.

“If you just tell her then you’ll know if she likes you or not. I mean what if she likes you back?” Nicole says and you shake your head at her. “Honestly you lesbians are so dramatic.” Nicole teases you and you flip her off. “I love ya too y/n.” She says and then leaves for work.

At lunch Melissa comes to see you after grabbing her lunch from the fridge. She runs into Barb and tells her she’s going to see you and Barb smirks and tells her good luck.

She arrives at your door then Melissa takes a deep breath and knocks on your door. You open it and almost slam the door back in her face but instead you just freeze.

“Hi.” She tells you and leans on the doorframe. She’s so cute you think and then remove those thoughts, not the time to check her out.

“Something you want Melissa?” You ask her as neutral as possible and she’s slightly taken back by this. You usually have a big and bright smile when you greet her.

“I just wanted to know if you were ok? I haven’t seen you as much lately.” She says and you look at her eyes then look away from her eyes as fast as possible.

“I’m fine, just don’t feel like being in the break room.” You tell her.

“Why?”

“That’s personal.” You tell her with a bit of a snap to it.

“Can I come in?” She asks you and you shake your head.

“No.” You tell her flatly.

“Why not?” She asks you confused. “You always were happy to have people around in your classroom to visit you.” She tells you.

“Well I decided that I’m going to avoid people from now on.” You say and go to close your door, but Melissa with quick hands, stops it and pushes it back open and you stumble back from the force a bit. Melissa takes the opportunity and walks in and closes and locks the door. She then turns to look at you with an unimpressed look. “What?” You ask her and she walks towards you, you however began to walk backwards to avoid her and she keeps walking towards you. You then get stopped by your desk and Melissa traps you there and looks at you closely.

“What’s going on with you hun?” She asks and you begin to breathe deeply. You don’t reply and she continues to try and get you to talk. “I saw you at the club on Friday night, flirting with that girl.” She tells you and your eyes go wide then you narrow your eyebrows at her.

“So?” You question her.

“You seem to be enjoying it and playing along. I thought you were dating Nicole.” She tells you and the built up anger that was starting inside you immediately disappears and all that’s left is confusion.

“You think Nicole and I are together?” You tell her and press your lips together to try and suppress a laugh.

Melissa looks confused. “Um ya, I mean it’s kinda obvious. She’s always with you, you guys constantly are talking, she comes in with you to school and picks you up after. You’re constantly flirting and posting pictures of the both of you together.” She says those last 2 with some anger and you quirk an eyebrow at her.

“Melissa, her and I are just friends. We may sometimes seem flirty but it’s innocent. She’s straight and she’s not my type.” You say and Melissa leans back, immediately releasing you and you get out from her entrapment. “Melissa what is all this about? You’re acting distant lately.” You say and she looks at your desk and has her fingers on it.

“I don’t like seeing you two together.” Is all she says.

“Why?”

“Because I thought you were together.” She says plainly and then it all hits you at once. The way she leaves when she sees Nicole with you, the glares she sends at Nicole, the way she ignores you both when you go to talk to her, the way her personality changes as soon as Nicole is in the room. Melissa is jealous.

“Is it because you don’t have a partner? Because it can be so easy for you to find one. I mean you found someone to hook up with a few weeks ago.” You tell her and her eyes widen.

“You were at the bar that night?” She asks and you nod.

“I saw you make out with her and then take her home with you.” You say disappointedly.

Melissa pieces it all together right then and there and smirks. She stalks towards you and traps you against the wall on the side where your doors are.

“Did you get jealous by that?” She asks you and you shake your head.

“What?!? Me? Jealous of you with another girl? Why would I get jealous of that?” You say and your voice gets high in pitch and she grins. You gulp as she gives you a look that she doesn’t believe you.

“I think you are jealous by that.” She tells you and lowers the pitch of her voice. “Tell me, did you want it to be you that I took home that night?” She asks and you look at her with a huge blush and you can’t find it in you to lie to her, so you nod. “Well do you want to know what I was thinking when that girl flirted with you?” She asks and you nod again. “I thought that I wish it was me flirting with you instead of that girl. She is just a girl who probably doesn’t know how to properly satisfy another girl yet.” She tells you and then leans in to your ear. “I’m much more experienced and know how to satisfy a girl all night.” She whispers in your ear and you shiver. “Ugh I was so jealous when I thought you and Nicole were together, I was mad. And then you started avoiding me and she was over every day and I wasn’t able to keep taking it. I went to that club every night and kept sleeping with girls to get my mind off of you and blow off some steam.” She tells you and you look at her surprised.

“You’ve been sleeping with a bunch of girls?” You ask her shyly and she nods.

“And either they weren’t experienced or maybe it’s because they weren’t you, I don’t know which one but it wasn’t any good.” She says and you look at how close she is.

“Can you let me go?” You ask her and she shakes her head.

“Do you know how much time I’ve spent picturing you in my bed, underneath me or up against my wall at my house. How many times I’ve spend fantasising about you when I’m touching myself?” She asks and you shake your head. “I mean fuck y/n, you drive me crazy.” She tells you and you’re a blushing mess right now but find enough strength in you to speak.

“I… I fantasise about you too.” You tell her and she smirks at you.

“Really?” She asks and you nod. “What do you fantasise about?” She whispers near your ear and you gulp.

“I-I picture you on top of me, domi…dominating m-me.” You start and you’re very nervous, but her smirk makes you continue. “And I imagine what it would be like to feel you inside of me and making me beg to let me come.” And while you speak, she drives her knee closer and closer to your core. Until she hits it and you squeak and buck your hips.

“Keep going.” She tells you while grabbing your hips and you gulp again before continuing.

“I thought about…about what your breasts would look like and-” you get cut off by you gasping as she moves your hips forward, making you grind against her thigh. “I thought- I thought about what your lips would feel like on mine and all over me.” You continue with difficulty and eventually you don’t need her hands guiding you as you’re turned on enough and you continue grinding her thigh on your own. She removes her hands from you and places them beside your head and then places her lips on your neck and starts kissing and sucking. She then tells you to continue. “Omg, Mel-Melissa.” You say a bit loud and she has to cover your mouth with her hand.

“I guess you can’t continue, since you’re loud.” She says against your neck. You’re close to coming about a minute later and she pulls away and you whip your head at her in shock.

“What? Why’d you stop? I was so close.” You say and she smirks.

“Oh I know. But I want to see your whole body and be inside you while you come underneath me.” She says seductively. “I want to take out all my jealousy on this pretty body of yours.” She says and bites your ear then pulls back again. “Why don’t you come to my house after school?” She asks and you immediately nod. “Good, now don’t touch yourself during the rest of lunch, I want you begging me for release tonight.” She tells you and you nod her head.

Melissa then grabs her lunchbox and then goes back to the break room. She enters with a grin on her face and the trio looks at her confused, Barb sees the grin but doesn’t comment on it. She just smiles and shakes her head.

Taglist: @esposadejoyhuerta

@imaginesmultifandoms

@idonothingalldays-blog

@sexysapphicshopowner

@dvrkhcld

@lilfartbox1

Let me know if you want to be added!

[sosa2imagines]

Misunderstanding.

Warnings- None, mention of scar, angst, Steve being angry. -----------------------------------------------------

Your last mission took a toll on you. Getting stabbed nastily just below your tummy. Leading you to an urgent surgery and blood transfusion, cause of sever blood loss. Leaving you in the hospital for one month ten days.

Guess being a highly trained assassin, with good fighting skills does not guarantee 100% safe results. Only Tony, Nat and Bruce knew about your whereabouts. As for the rest? They just knew you had been seriously injured. Steve wanted to know about your whereabouts but for his own safety, no one told him anything, driving him crazy.

“So, all set to finally leave this place?” Rose one of the sweet nurse asks, her sweet nature made you, be friends with her. “Yes, finally out of your hair.” you chuckle. “I'll miss you Y/n” she hugs getting emotional and you hug her back with a smile. “I'll miss you too, now remember I'm just a phone call away.”

“I know!” she rolls her eyes playfully “So who's gonna pick you up?” “Hopefully Nat” as soon as those words left your mouth, AC/DC Highway to hell ringtone was blasting in the hallways. “On a second thought” “Tony” Rose answered and you gave her an apologetic smile.

“I heard my name” Tony's sarcastic voice roars in the room. “Tony you should keep your phone on silence” you explain to him. “Now when have I ever listened to anyone?” he smirks. “Umm Caps?” “Of course! you will take his name ‘boyfriend ass kisser’” “As if you won't ‘Pepper's loyal child’”

This is what you miss the most. Calling each other, with weird made up names. Tony smirks, hugging you in a tight brotherly embrace.

“I missed you kid, don't you dare do that again” “I missed you too Tons”.

Tony and you became best friends instantly, shortly after you both were introduced by Fury, after the battle of New York. You both have same kind of sense of humor, your being a bit sophisticated. You are one of the few females, Pepper trusts Tony with. And it was Tony, who made you join the Avengers.

As you both said bye to Rose and rest of the staff members, you were now on your way to Stark Towers in Tony's high-tech SUV.

“So, how's everyone?” “You mean all or Steve specifically?”

Hearing his name, a smile forms on your face. Steve Rogers aka Captain America your co-worker, best friend, lover, boyfriend. Unlike Tony and rest of the gang, Steve was professional in the very beginning, calling you mam.

It took you months for him to call you with your first name. Soon you became friends, bonding over music and art. Slowly Steve started to like you more than a friend, but at that time you were in a relationship with someone else.

But after the nasty breakup, Steve took proper care of you and you began to fall for him. It was only a matter of time; you both shared your feelings for each other. Making you both the prettiest couple.

“Umm all of them and yes Steve specifically...” “All are good and excited for you. Nat and Wanda have gone crazy, Steve and Metal man are out on a mission with our mutant friends, they'll be back later today.”

“You are the one in an Iron suit, yet still you call Bucky metal man?” “I can call him many names” Tony smirks. "Tony” you warn him. “Yeah yeah alright” he sighed.

“Wait you said Nat and Wanda have gone crazy?” “Yeah about that” “What did you do Tony?” “Why do you think I did something?” 

You just give him a death glare, he looks outside the window before finally caving in.

“Alright stop glaring it's scary, don't freak out I have planned a small party for you.” Tony is now smiling being hopeful, giving you the best puppy dog face. “Thank god you are cute Tons”  Tony acts shocked putting a hand on his heart “I'm hot, but I'll take cute” he winks at you, making you laugh.

As soon as you both enter the tower, inside the lounge everyone jumps to scream surprise. Hugging you gently, being extra cautious of your injury.

“Guys I missed you all too, but I'm not fragile, I can still kick asses. Nat you know me” “Guys she's right, come here sexy” Nat engulfs you in a big tight hug. It is special, you both are like sisters inseparable.

“Nat I missed you so much!!!” “How’s the wound?” “All healed left with a scar, just like you bye bye bikinis” “Oh to hell with them we'll own the bikini look with our scars”

You both laughed as Wanda, squeezed between you two, making it a cute group hug between the three.

“Y/N” Thor calls you loudly, pulling you away from everyone, hugging you in a bone breaking hold. “I love you too Thor!!” your voice was muffled being buried in his hold. As he lets go, your eyes begin to search for Steve. 

“Looking for someone?” Nat asks “I know whom she is looking for” Clint smiles. “Sir Captain Rogers and Barnes have arrived” FRIDAY'S voice was like a music to your ears. Everyone gather in front of you, to hide you from Steve. Thor was holding your hand to keep you steady. You just wanted to break loose and run into Steve's arms.

“Guys I want to see him”, “NO” all said in unison. “But why?” “Surprise” Nat said.

When Bucky and Steve entered the lounge, everyone shouted together “SURPRISE”. Steve and Bucky gave each other confuse look.

Everyone parted ways and Thor let’s goes of your hand. Steve was shocked to see you. He removed his mask still not able to believe, that you are standing in front of him. Bucky quickly hugs you, asking about your health “I'm fine Buck, we can spar together soon...”

Even though you were answering Bucky, you kept looking at Steve. Something felt odd. As you finally went to hug Steve, something felt off. Steve did hug you back, but didn't say anything. He just looked at you, touching your cheek, before leaving for your shared bedroom. Everyone tried to call him back, but you knew he won't listen to anyone.

“What's wrong with him?” Tony asked, “I'll go see him, he must be tired.” you replied.

On your way to your shared bedroom, Bucky pulled you in the corner. “Y/n, doll he’s been going crazy. No one told him about your whereabouts and he was scared about losing you...” You know Steve was scared, not knowing about you and hearing about it from Bucky pained your heart even more. You wanted to run to Steve and shower all the love you have for him. 

“I know Buck, I hate not telling him. But it was for his own safety!” “His safety?” “Yes, the hydra agents wanted to kidnap him. We got a lead, that they wanted to take him away from us and I could not risk that. We didn't know if someone was watching us.” “God he's an idiot, go get that punk and if he acts stubborn let me know I'll kick his ass” “Language!” you both laughed.

As you enter the room, you saw Steve had taken a quick shower and was shirtless just in his sweats lying on the bed.

“Steve?” “Umm” “Please talk to me” “How are you?” “I'm good...I'm...” “Ok” He cut's you mid-sentence. “Steve I know you are angry, but please let’s talk...let me...” “Talk? About what? The fact I have been kept in the dark about my girlfriend's location? Steve yells, making you flinch slightly.

 “Steve please let me explain it was for your own safety. We got...” “My safety?” He shouts, not letting you finish what you want to say.

Steve grabs your shoulders and yells, “I can take care of myself Y/n. I'm fucking Captain America! God dammit do you have any idea what I have been through?” 

Your eyes well up, as you try your best not to cry but his hold was tight. Even though you could see his pain, his anger was hurting you.

“Steve please...let me explain” “Y/n I'm tired, we'll talk later, you need to rest too!”

You just nod, not able to form any words. You decided to shower first, as you took your top off, Steve saw your scar, he kept looking at it. In his mind, he was screaming at himself for shouting at you, but little did you know that. Instead you thought he is disgusted by it. You took fresh clothes and ran inside the bathroom, turning on the hot water, crying your heart out with silent sobs.

Steve could hear you crying, because of his enhanced hearing. But his stupid anger was coming between the both of you. After an hour you came out. Steve saw you, even though he wanted to apologize, his anger made him say something else.

“I'm heading down for a bit” “Where...are you going?” “Just heading out, unlike you, I won't go anywhere without telling you!”

That jab, was like a knife going deep in your heart. You choked your tears...trying your best not to cry. Somewhere you felt you deserved that. You just nod, not looking at him.

“Ok, don't be late for the party...” “Party?” “Yes Tony…he umm has thrown a party for my return…” You didn’t look at him, eyes fixed on the floor. You knew, if you look at him, you won’t be able to control your emotions.

“Okay I'll be back soon; you should rest in the meantime.”

Steve didn’t even looked at you, leaving you alone with dreadful thoughts, as he went out to cool down his own anger.

Part 2

(I wrote this, because I was bored and this was stuck in my head. Comments and feedbacks are appreciated.)

[waynes-multiverse]

Plastic Hearts – Part 22

Pairing: Director!Dean Winchester x Actress!Reader

Series Summary: Los Angeles, 1985. Y/N’s a young actress without any success, hopping from one failed audition to the next until one desperate mistake brings her to her breaking point. Dean Winchester, on the other hand, is a grade A asshole and washed-up director at the end of his career, known for his godawful slasher movies in the 70s and his love for blow, booze, and women. Lost in the toxic Hollywood life, their paths cross when one hopeless little wrestling show changes their trajectory.

Chapter Warnings: +18, language, injuries, hospitals, jealousy, drug use, angst, smoking everywhere 'cause it's the 80s, girl fights, a whole lot of FLUFF

Word Count: 6.9k

A/N: Thank you guys so much for all your comments last week! So happy to bring these two idiots back to your screens of choice and give them an ending they deserve! Now, buckle up! We have some bitchy moments in this one 👀😇

<< 21 || Spotify Playlist || Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist

22. Girls, Girls, Girls

The gym smells of blood, sweat, and tears tonight. More so than ever before. The tensions run high.

It’s the first live taping since the show’s official cancellation. The first three matches have already run their course, the rest of the women joining Dean in his office, using the platform as the perfect viewing room. It’s like an NFL suite at Super Bowl. Everyone’s drinking, celebrating, and has gathered here to watch the biggest match of the night:

Red Sparrow vs. Liberty Bell

Usually, the green-eyed director would be bothered by the constant chatting, shrieking, and yapping. But tonight, he could care less as he passed the director’s crown on to his spawn, leaving Claire to man the booth and direct the show on her own, putting her AV skills to the test.

After all, the show’s already canceled. What’s the worst that could happen? Might as well let a rebellious teenager call the shots. Who gives a shit! Isn’t it awesome to be this carefree?

“Can you guys keep it down?” Claire hisses with an annoyed roll of her eyes, her shoulders tense with stress as she tries to concentrate on the monitors. “I’m trying to direct a show here! I can’t fucking hear anything!”

Amused, Dean chuckles. Now, his daughter finally knows what it’s like to be in his shoes. He’s tried telling everyone for ages that these women are fucking annoying and that being a director ain’t easy.

While the women are busy talking up a storm and pay attention to the match, Dean sneaks to his desk and opens the first drawer. He pulls out his pack of cigarettes, but it’s not a smoke he’s in the mood for. To his surprise and shock, however, the little bag of white powder he hides in there is gone.

Did he put it somewhere else?

Frantically, he starts opening every drawer, moving stuff in and out of them. He rummages through his folders on his desk, sees if he placed it there somewhere, but it’s nowhere to be found. His green eyes then dart to his kid and an eerie feeling settles in his stomach. Surely, Claire didn’t take it, right?

Like father, like daughter, it echoes through his mind.

He always loved the fact that his kid was so much like him – the love for good movies, the humor, the sass, the sheer unabashed talent. But not in that regard. God, does he hope she didn’t inherit his drug addiction, too.

“Claire?” Dean knows he has to be careful in his questioning, not wanting to alert the other women in the room to the pressing issue. But his daughter skillfully ignores him, too focused on her current task. “CLAIRE?!” he barks loud enough to rattle the entire office.

Yeah, okay, that wasn’t as smooth and inconspicuous as he had hoped, but he’s fucking panicking on the inside, alright? He has entered worried dad mode.

Don’t act so fucking surprised, okay? He has evolved like man is supposed to do.

In all honesty, Dean wanted to get completely clean two weeks ago. As soon as Y/N waltzed into his office and slept with him, he swore he’d never touch the toxic and nasty stuff again. He was done, and this time, it’d be final. No going backsies. But he had one teeny-tiny baggy left, and well, he hates to be wasteful. So, his plan was to slowly stop and keep the withdrawals at a minimum. And it worked great so far. It hasn’t snowed in four fucking days.

“What?!” his kid grunts back, audaciously annoyed.

“Did you snoop through my drawers and take my smokes out?” Dean asks her in his best dad voice. He’s gotten quite good at it since he practiced it over the last few weeks.

Do your homework!

Eat your vegetables!

Tell that fucking boyfriend of yours to stop sneaking in through the window, or I’ll get my gun!

“No, I don’t smoke!” Claire huffs without missing a beat and doesn’t take her eyes off the monitors even once.

Dean believes her. Usually, when she lies, there are a few seconds of thinking that pass by before she comes up with a reasonable excuse. Not that he buys any of them, but whatever. This time, though, she answered right away, and he knows she has no idea what he’s even talking about.

So, did he misplace it? You’d think he’d be more careful with drug storage, but sometimes it’s a glass of whiskey too many, and stuff gets lost. Did he leave it in the car? Is it at home?

But then it dawns on him. Joanna.

The blonde storms into his office, forcing the director to look up. Her mascara is smeared across her cheeks, her hair disheveled and overall she seems upset and out of breath.

“I need my own goddamn dressing room,” Barbie demands. “I can’t get ready and in the right head space with all of these women down there. I’m the star of the show. Some of us need peace and quiet to wash the shit of the world from us before they have to fucking perform!”

“Whoa, whoa, easy, alright? Sit down,” Dean tells her calmly and gestures to the seat in front of him, where the blonde immediately plops down with an exhausted huff. “You can get ready in my office tonight, okay? You want a drink? You look like you need one.”

Jo nods with a sniffle and accepts the flask he’s offering her, almost downing the whole thing.

“What’s going on? You good?” Dean checks. Usually, he wouldn’t care about the blonde’s feelings, but since she’s up against Y/N tonight, he wants to assure himself nothing goes wrong.

“Yeah, it’s just… Sam.” She scoffs and takes another swig. “He’s got a new girlfriend. His secretary, Jessica.” The blonde rolls her eyes at the name. “Who knows how long he’s been fucking her. Our divorce isn’t even final.”

Dean nods understandingly as he rises from his chair and pats the blonde’s shoulder. “I know. Divorce is shitty. You’ll get through this. Trust me.”

“Shit…” Dean mumbles.

He left an emotionally vulnerable woman alone in his office with a bunch of booze and drugs. How could he be this stupid and reckless? He doesn’t even suspect Jo took the coke on purpose. She was probably looking for a smoke and stumbled upon it, thinking, “What the hell? My day is already shit, maybe this makes it better.”

Dean knows because it’s usually what he thinks as well when he’s at his lowest. How do you think he got addicted to drugs in the first place, huh?

Here’s how: two divorces and a failing career.

“Boss?”

“Dean?!”

“Dad!”

The green-eyed director snaps out of his thoughts and turns to the room full of women upon their calling, all of them looking quite panicked and worried. It’s like a fox got loose in the coop.

His brow furrows as he approaches the booth and big windows, trying to see where the concern is coming from. “What? What’s going on?”

“I think there’s something wrong, boss,” Donna informs him. “That’s not the fight they’ve practiced during training. They’re going off script.”

Fucking shit…

“Dean, what the hell is going on?” Billie cocks an eyebrow at the director, but he can’t get himself to focus or reply as his green eyes are glued to the match downstairs.

Dean’s too cynical to believe in a God and has certainly never prayed before, but tonight he can’t help it and utter a quiet prayer, hoping for a goddamn miracle.

His heart is racing as he watches the match unfold. There’s nothing he can do about it. Nothing can stop it. It’s like watching a fucking car crash as a bystander on the sidewalk.

Looking at Y/N’s face, he can see that she’s panicking as well and getting scared. It breaks his goddamn heart. The actress tries to talk to the blonde and get through to her but to no avail. Killer Barbie is on a mission, and her target is clearly Y/N.

And then, it all happens fast. Jo throws Y/N onto the mat and grabs her leg, raising it up by the ankle. There are tears in Y/N’s eyes before an audible crack echoes through the gym. Y/N screams out in pain. Jo drops her foot and backs away in shock, hands high in the air. The entire gym becomes mum, only a few quiet gasps uttered by the audience bounce off the tall walls.

Dean’s heart is about to explode as he bolts down the stairs and almost takes a fall. He hasn’t even reached the ring yet and assessed the damage, but he already blames himself. This is all his fucking fault. Donna warned him, and he didn’t listen. Y/N was obviously not fine, and neither was Jo. How many goddamn warning signs did he choose to ignore? And for what? For fucking ratings no one even cares about?

Y/N’s agonizing scream rings in his ears as the director makes his way to her. Rufus is already there in his referee costume, trying to help her as best as he can. Dean’s so close he can practically count the steps to the ring. Has this gym always been this huge? It feels like he’s been running a mile.

But then, he’s abruptly stopped by Cas’ announcer voice and what his green eyes find unfolding in front of him.

“And here comes a camera guy to save our Russian warrior!”

Oh hell, no!

Dean should probably be glad that someone is helping her and not let his jealousy win. But does that someone really have to be fucking Benny of all people? The green-eyed director truly thought he was done worrying about that guy. Now, however, he has to watch that douchebag heroically carry Y/N out of the ring while the audience cheers and claps.

It’s his worst goddamn nightmare. Well, that and Y/N getting hurt in the first place.

“Put her down,” Dean demands fiercely as he faces Benny, his blood boiling as he watches the actress hold on to the guy’s neck and wince in pain. A bit of guilt mixes with his jealousy at that.

Don’t be an asshole. Focus, he reminds himself. Y/N’s more important than your fucking ego.

“What? No,” Benny denies his request with a confused and irritated frown.

“That’s an order,” Dean grits boldly.

“I don’t care. She’s hurt,” Benny snaps back with emphasis and acts like Dean doesn’t know what that means. “Fucking fire me if you have a problem with that. The show’s done anyways.”

That fucking little prick…

Dean purses his lips in frustration. What is he supposed to do now? Rip her from the guy’s arms? Start a fist fight?

“I can take her. I’ll drive her to a hospital,” the director insists with a little more reasoning.

“Let’s take my limo! There’s enough space for her,” Ruby chimes in as the whole pack of women flock to the rescue and worryingly gather around Y/N.

Great. More helping hands is what Dean needs right now.

“No, we’re taking my car,” Dean maintains, trying to remain calm amongst the concerned chatter. “Baby’s backseat got plenty of space, alright?”

“True,” Bela agrees with a dirty smirk.

Dean sighs, Billie rolls her eyes, and Y/N frowns at that. Dear God, these fucking women…

“How about we ask Y/N what she wants, huh?” Dean proposes, knowing the actress will surely pick him. God knows she’s picked him yesterday all night long…

Benny smiles as if he could win this battle. “Fine.”

“Y/N, sweetheart, what d’you want? Who do you wanna go with, huh?” Dean asks, lowering himself down to her with a gentle look in his eyes and a warm, caring smile.

“I don’t care!” Y/N whines with pained features and a high level of annoyance. “I just wanna go to a hospital! Any hospital in any car.”

Fair enough, Dean thinks dejectedly. Still, she could’ve done him a favor and picked him. He hates losing to a fucking camera operator.

“My limo it is!” Ruby exclaims and bolts ahead to the parking lot, keys jiggling in the air.

With a triumphant smirk, Benny turns and follows Valley girl outside, Dean swallowing down the urge to punch the guy as Y/N throws him an apologetic look over camera guy’s shoulder.

These fucking women…

Dean has floored the gas pedal of the Impala, but it’s fucking LA, so an hour was spent standing in traffic on the freeway. Moreover, he had to gather Claire and Cas as well and check on Jo, while Benny and the girls were already at the hospital with Y/N.

When Dean finally arrives, he rushes through the glass doors into the waiting area of the emergency room, Cas and Claire on his heels. His group is easy to spot, considering they’re all still in their fucking wrestling costumes.

His hands ball into fists when he sees Benny holding an ice pack to her injured ankle as she sits in a wheelchair, the girls scattered around Y/N on creaky hospital seats as they keep her company. He hates that camera guy is taking care of his girl. It should be him by her side, not some fucking footnote in this story.

“Hey, what the fuck is going on? Why is she still waiting?” Dean asks furiously, charging in full-throttle. His heart is burning for Y/N, and nothing can extinguish it.

Hell, if she isn’t getting help soon, he’ll burn this goddamn hospital down.

“Because she’s not a gunshot wound?” Ruby answers wryly, earning her glare.

But Dean supposes party girl has a point. It’s an LA hospital in a bad neighborhood.

“Want me to lick your wound? Saliva helps with blood clotting,” Meg offers as she holds Y/N’s hand tightly.

“She’s not even bleeding,” Cassie counters with a raised brow.

“She might be bleeding internally,” Meg argues and places her palm on Y/N’s forehead, taking her temperature.

“Stop it! You’re freaking her out,” Charlie scolds from the seat behind her.

“Why is this taking so long? My friend is in pain! Do you hear me?” Meg whines, calling to the nurses’ station.

Why are girls so exhausting? That question has been running around Dean’s mind for months now. He’s still lacking an answer.

Ignoring the female turmoil around him, Dean lowers himself down in front of Y/N and finds her eyes, smiling gently. “Hey, sweetheart. How are you doing, huh?”

“Dean!” Y/N smiles broadly when she recognizes him, her face lighting up and beaming brighter than the fluorescent lights above her. It warms his heart.

The director’s head then tilts slightly, inspecting her closer. She seems awfully chipper for someone in pain. Her pupils are gigantic, too.

Ruby leans in and whispers, “I gave her a Valium… and then half a Klonopin.”

Ah. There it is. She’s fucking high. That explains it.

Dean reaches out his hand and caresses her pink cheek, feeling her lean into his touch. “You feeling good, sweetheart?”

“I’m awesome,” she replies with a drowsy giggle.

He grins. “Yeah, I bet you are…”

Is it weird he’d like to fuck her in this state? Right, probably not a good time to ask those questions. (But he swears he wouldn’t take advantage of her. Just play with her and test her senses a little.)

“You’re so pretty,” Y/N tells him dreamily, making him blush hard as she touches a few strands of his hair and plays with them.

“And the first pill is kicking in,” Ruby notes, amused.

A nurse then finally walks into the waiting room with a tired gleam in her eyes and clears her throat to catch everyone’s attention. Dean can’t blame her. He knows it’s like a fucking circus in here.

“Good news. We have a bed ready, so I’ll take her back and all of you can leave?” the nurse explains and looks at the wolf pack hopefully.

Meg stares her dead in the eyes and replies flatly, “Not a chance.”

Yeah, Dean could’ve told that nurse those girls weren’t going anywhere.

Benny rises from his position and attempts to push Y/N’s wheelchair, following the nurse. But Dean will be damned if he lets him. Provocatively, he pushes the camera guy aside and scowls at him, making his territory and claim clear. The girls aren’t the only wolves in this waiting room.

“I got her. You can leave,” Dean growls with a deathly stare. “My show, my actress. I’m the director, and she’s my fucking responsibility, got it?”

Benny raises his palms in surrender and takes a step back. He already knew he lost when Y/N only had eyes for Dean as soon as the director showed up. A pill-high never lies.

The nurse helps Y/N into a bed in a small, quiet room. As they wait for a doctor, Dean impatiently paces the room, fuming away on his smoke. If you can’t tell, he’s far away from relaxed.

A man in a white coat with a friendly smile then finally strolls in and introduces himself. “Hello there, Y/N Y/L/N. I’m Dr. Gabriel Piccolo. Are you with the circus?”

Dr. Sexy, as Dean refers to the guy, lifts an eyebrow at Y/N’s unusual costume. You’d think as a doctor at a hospital in Hollywood, he’d see more people like this.

“I’m an actress on a wrestling TV show,” Y/N replies, not offended by his question in the slightest.

“Oh, uhm, I’ll have to watch it,” Dr. Sexy says politely and then gets straight down to business, cocking his head at her injured leg. “Okay, so left ankle. We’re gonna have to cut off this boot.”

“Oh! No, no, no. Sorry, these are important.” Y/N protectively throws herself over her knee-high army boot.

Dean sighs a little. Even high on pills and in unbearable pain, Y/N still prioritizes her silly job. “Alright, Doc. I got it,” the director relents and shoots the man a look.

Carefully, Dean unties her laces, loosening the shoe enough. “I’m gonna go slow, sweetheart. Just take it easy, alright?”

Dean flashes her a smirk and watches as she bites down on her lower lip, nodding. She inhales sharply and whimpers when he slips the boot off her foot. His fingers smooth over her leg, soothe the skin, and elicit a shudder from her. He can tell the action turned her on, can see the goosebumps rise on her arms as she presses her thighs together. He can practically hear her drip.

He smirks devilishly. Y/N sends him a knowing frown.

Dr. Sexy clears his throat and interrupts their heated moment, causing Y/N’s cheeks to flush furiously.

The doctor then assesses her ankle. It’s swollen and the skin a purplish-blue. Dean knows it doesn’t fucking look good. He guesses it’s not a simple sprain.

“Can you feel your toes? Can you wiggle them?” the doc checks. Y/N does as asked and moves her toes as best as she can. It’s not much though before she winces in pain. “How does that feel?”

Dr. Sexy touches the swell on her ankle, and Y/N squeezes her eyes shut and locks her jaw, a tear rolling down her cheek.

“Fucking hurts,” she grits through strained teeth.

“Okay, we’re gonna take some X-rays. See what we’ve got,” the doc finally says and disappears out of the room.

Y/N exhales an exhaustive breath and looks at the director. “Distract me,” she prompts with desperate eyes.

“Well, I’m not gonna be my regular chipper self,” Dean quips, making her laugh. He smiles, too, and leans in closer. “How about this?”

He wiggles his eyebrows and then dips his head, claiming her lips in a blistering kiss that makes her legs quiver. His tongue slips inside her mouth, swipes deep as teeth scrape her lower lip. Upon her first moan, he draws back with a smug smile.

He leans close to her ear, whispering against her shell, “You know if curling your toes didn’t hurt, I’d make you come so fast on my fingers right now, baby girl.”

Her eyes widen. She gasps and gently hits his arm in a scolding manner. “Dean!”

“What?” He chuckles and pecks her crown. “It’ll be alright. Don’t worry so much, okay?”

The girls then soon flood the room, one by one providing endless entertainment that surely no other patient at this hospital receives. Y/N’s a fucking star here, although she always is to Dean.

First, there was Claire, who practically emptied the vending machine, buying sweets and snacks for every taste (with Dean’s money). He’s nothing more than a wallet to that girl.

Meg, on the other hand, stole more pillows and blankets from other patients, making sure Y/N was as comfortable as possible. Ruby read Cosmopolitan to her and filled out the magazine’s sex quiz, intriguing Dean a lot.

Every girl pretty much brought their unique sense of entertainment, making Y/N laugh and smile so much she almost forgot why she was here. Only one woman was missing from the wolf pack – Joanna.

As Y/N is finally wheeled away to her X-rays, Dean decides to join the other women in the waiting room. He’s more than happy to discover that Benny actually left when he can’t catch sight of the guy anymore.

Guess the director is the true winner, after all.

Donna then approaches Cas, who’s nervously sucking on a cigarette in the corner by the vending machine, and hands him a clipboard with a hospital form.

“Y/N doesn’t have insurance, and we don’t know what to fill out,” the blonde tells him and meekly saunters back to her seat.

Cas frowns and looks at the women in disbelief. “How could she not have insurance? She’s a professional wrestler.”

Billie arches a sarcastic eyebrow at that and replies wryly, “Yeah, employed by Novak Productions, who doesn’t provide health care.”

Cas swallows guiltily and purses his lips. “How many of you don’t have insurance?”

Almost every woman in the room raises their hand, except for Jo, Billie, and party girl.

That tracks, Dean thinks and is not the least bit surprised. Judging by Cas’ shocked expression, though, this revelation clearly shatters the privileged rich boy’s world.

The producer nods earnestly. “This is my responsibility, and I will take care of it,” he promises. Dean gives him a pat on the back, letting Cas know he’s doing the right thing. If the producer hadn’t footed Y/N’s bill, Dean surely would have.

The director then glances around the waiting area, noticing the sad faces and depressed mood. “Alright, she’s not dying, okay?” he tells them and catches their attention. “You guys did a great show tonight. Why don’t you go back to the motel?”

“Great?” Donna cocks a brow at his word choice. “We were amazing.”

Charlie looks up at him, a hopeful look in her eyes as her red hair shimmers in the fluorescent light. “You think we get our old time slot back, Dean?”

Dean smacks his lips, scratching the scruff on his chin. He then shakes his head. He can’t lie to them. Knowing what he knows, he also knows it’s over. “No, I don’t. I think we’re gonna die at 2am… But we’ll die on our own terms, alright?”

Nodding, Ruby sighs loudly. “I’ll drive everybody home. And then, we get drunk while we ice our knees.”

As the girls start to gather their belongings and rise from their seats, Jo rushes through the glass doors. The women punish her with little glares on their way out. No one buys it was an innocent accident. In fact, Dean’s pretty sure the wolf pack believes the blonde tried to murder their beloved leader.

Dean, however, doesn’t.

“She’s in room 3,” he tells Jo without further comment.

The green-eyed director didn’t know what he had expected when he sent Joanna into Y/N’s room. Maybe that they’d talk like adults, get it all out in the open, and finally make amends. Be best friends again.

But maybe that was a little naive of him.

It all started out innocently. Dr. Sexy entered the room with a set of X-rays and left happily a few minutes later. Meanwhile, Dean and Cas smoked in the hospital’s corridor and drank the most awful-tasting coffee out of plastic cups.

Then, the mood started to shift. The guys could hear the girls arguing with slightly raised voices, just loud enough for it to drown out into the hallway.

“Eight to ten weeks? It’s not that long,” Jo could be heard saying.

“It’s the rest of the season. I won’t be on the show,” Y/N threw in through gritted teeth. Dean could hear the upset in her voice.

Jo scoffed, brushing it off. “Well, we’re getting canceled anyways, so… It’s just a job, you know.”

“No, it’s not!” Y/N’s voice went up a notch in volume. Dean knew she was close to reaching a boiling point. This wasn’t good.

“Okay, geez, you don’t have to lash out at me. I did not mean to break your ankle, okay?” Jo countered, pushing all blame off her.

“I don’t fucking believe you!”

And that was the turning point. That’s when the yelling started. The one that could be heard throughout the hospital, spilling into every room and probably several floors.

“No, no, no…. See, that was an accident, Y/N,” Jo says with a jittery voice. “Unlike the time you accidentally fucked my husband! TWICE!”

“You made out with my prom date on prom night!”

“That is not the same thing, and you know it!”

“Oh? Is it the same thing when you hooked up with your co-star at your stupid soap wrap party one week before you got married? And coincidentally, Sammy was born nine months later! Is he even Sam’s? ‘Cause he looks a whole lot like what‘s-his-face!”

“How dare you!”

“You didn’t even love Sam! You only married him for his money!”

“You don’t have the fucking right to say anything about my marriage!”

Cas swallows down a big gulp of coffee, sharing a nervously concerned look with Dean. “Should we, you know, go in there?”

Dean’s eyes widen as he vividly shakes his head. “Fuck no! Are you nuts? We stay right here. Look, men are simple. They throw a few punches and then share a drink. And women… Well, women do fucking this. Bottle everything up, even for years sometimes, till it fucking explodes. Trust me, they need this. Let ‘em get it outta their system.”

Fucking women…

“Oh, do I have the right to talk about your power complex?” Y/N yells. “Or do I have to schedule a meeting with all the producers?”

“I’ve earned my title!”

“Right, your fucking work ethic is legendary! I’m so sick and tired of apologizing about Sam! I don’t care anymore! I have eaten shit for months! I have done everything I can think of to make this right!”

“You can’t make it right!”

“Great! Then I’ll stop trying!”

“Fine!”

“Yeah, fine like you telling me I should get raped to save our show! The show you don’t give a shit about!”

“God, you’re so melodramatic! I just figured you’re already screwing our director for attention, what’s one more network executive!”

Cas blinks at Dean with wide eyes and a raised brow. “Are you-… Are you and Y/N dating?”

Dean averts his eyes to the blue wall opposite him and wordlessly sips his coffee. He has a feeling the girls’ fight is about to take a turn, going into a direction he doesn’t particularly care for. Why can’t they just leave him out of it?

Cas, however, takes Dean’s silence as what it is – an admission. The producer’s face lights up with joy. He excitedly rubs Dean’s shoulder and gasps giddily. “That’s so great! You haven’t dated anyone since Amara! I’m so happy for you! I love Y/N! Are you guys getting married? Did you buy a ring? Can I be best man? You know what they say, third time’s the charm!”

Dean scowls at the producer and heaves a deep sigh. “Calm the fuck down, would you? No one’s getting married.”

“Go to hell! I’m not fucking Dean, okay?” Y/N denies Jo’s accusation loudly.

Dean thinks she’s a hell of an actress. If he didn’t know for a fact that he was balls-deep inside her last night, he would’ve bought that little lie.

“Oh please! It’s so obvious!” Jo counters. Dean can practically hear the exhaustive eye roll that followed. “He’s following you around the gym like a lovesick puppy!”

That’s what Dean was afraid of. He does not like where this conversation is headed.

“He is not! Shut the fuck up!”

“Are you really trying to fucking lie to me, right now? I’ve known you since middle school!” Jo snaps. “And he certainly fits your glorious dating choices! Drug addiction? Check! Asshole? Check! Commitment issues? Check! He’s perfect for you. I’m surprised your slutty ass didn’t jump him the first day!”

“Oh, fuck you, you fucking bitch!”

“Slut!”

“Whore!”

Then, more yelling, more accusations, and more tears follow before Jo storms out of the room and bolts past the boys down the hallway.

Fucking girls…

“I’ve never felt so guilty about anything,” Cas mumbles next to him, completely distraught and shaken.

Dean scoffs. “Geez, you’ve lived a charmed life.”

“Thought I was gonna have a wrestling show, and no one was gonna get injured?” Cas shakes his head at his own nonsense. “What the fuck is wrong with me? I destroyed our little family! I mean, Y/N is a gimp.”

The director rolls his eyes and sighs. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. She’ll go on to have a full life, okay?”

Somehow that causes Cas to smile cheekily. He nudges the director’s shoulder. “With you?”

Dean sends him a thundering glare and dumps his burning cigarette bud into the producer’s coffee cup as he walks past him and returns to Y/N’s room.

Dean sat quietly next to Y/N as a nurse put a cast on her leg. The ankle, much like the women’s friendship, was broken, and the actress was out of commission for the foreseeable future. She hadn’t spoken a word yet, only sniffling and crying silently to herself. Dean left her alone and only handed her a tissue every now and then, figuring she needed some time to calm down and think. But he still wanted her to know he was there in case she needed him.

As the nurse finally leaves, Dean reaches out his hand and takes hers, drawing comforting circles on the back of it. Patiently, he waits till she’s ready to look at him.

“Well, I won’t be needing these anymore,” Y/N mutters with a pout and dumps her army boots on the little bedside table. “You should give them to Claire. She’d make a great replacement Red Sparrow.”

Dean purses his lips. It takes a lot out of him not to roll his eyes at her dramatization. He supposes that’s what he gets for falling in love with a goddamn actress – fucking theater no less. But he knows she’s really going through it right now, so he’s willing to cut her some slack.

“Relax, I’m not giving your part away,” he assures her with an easy smile.

“Well, you have to, if you want to keep the storyline moving forward,” she mumbles grumpily.

“Who cares? It’s just a TV show,” Dean argues.

However, that particular line seems to anger her. “Everyone keeps saying that. It’s not to me,” she contends and finds his eyes, her teary-eyed and desperate look boring into him. “I have people now. People who come with me to the ER. People who care if I’m hurt.”

Dean nods his head in understanding. He knows Cas and Y/N are essentially right, as much as it hurts him to admit it. They are a little family – a weird and incredibly dysfunctional one, but a family nonetheless.

“I know. I’m sorry. It’s just the easiest thing to say, you know?” he says and lets out a sigh. He rests his palm on her thigh and squeezes reassuringly. “How’s this? I don’t wanna make this show without you. I’m not gonna make this show without you.”

Y/N sucks in her lips, forming a tight line as she stares at her hands in her lap. “I thought we were all replaceable.”

Dean’s lips twitch with a smile. He lifts her chin, forcing her to look at him. “Well, you’re not, sweetheart.”

He leans closer and kisses her ardently till her toes curl. When she hisses slightly in pain, he pulls back, both of them chuckling.

Then, Dean swallows the heavy lump in his throat. He knows he has to come clean, literally and figuratively. He takes her hand in his again. This time for his own comfort.

“Listen, uhm, tonight was kinda my fault… on some level, at least,” the director starts.

Y/N’s brow creases, but she brushes it off with a disbelieving snort. “Why? Did you tell Jo to break my ankle?”

Dean chuckles lightly, although he doesn’t feel like laughing, considering he’s scared to death she’ll dump him in a few seconds once she hears the truth. “No, uhm, but she might’ve found something in my office that caused a lack of judgment on her part. I-, uhm, I might not have been as clean and drug-free as you believed me to be.”

“Oh. I see…” Y/N bites her lower lip and averts her gaze back to her hands, her fingers fumbling in a nonsensical pattern like a nervous tic. And then, she doesn’t say anything for serval minutes, while Dean slowly feels himself go crazy.

“So, uh, where do we stand? Are we mad? Disappointed? Disgusted? Sad?” Dean pries and pokes for an answer.

“I guess, uhm, disappointed,” she says finally. Dean sighs internally as his heart tightens. He had hoped it wouldn’t be that one. It’s the worst one. “And sad,” she adds.

Strike that. This is the worst one.

“Okay, uhm, good,” he replies before noticing her cocked brow at his answer. “I mean, not good-good, obviously. Just good to know where we are… So, where are we? Is this-, you know, is it over? Between us?”

Y/N glances at him slightly and takes a thoughtful breath. “No,” she says, and his heart rejoices with relief. “I kinda already knew you’re not perfect.”

Dean’s brow furrows momentarily before he smirks cockily. “Agree to disagree.”

Y/N tries to hide a smile at his joke. She’s unsuccessful in her endeavor. She squeezes his hand in reassurance. “It’s not your fault. It was still Jo’s choice,” she tells him. “Are you, you know, still…?”

Dean vehemently shakes his head. “No, no, I’m not. I haven’t for a couple of days, and I won’t anymore. I promise. Especially after tonight. I learned my lesson. I’m done with it. For good.”

“Okay,” she accepts.

Dean frowns a little because her forgiveness feels too easy, but he doesn’t get a chance to prod some more, her soft lips on his shutting him up for now. The kiss is fervent and sweet all the same. It makes his head spin and provides him with a completely different high – a much better one.

“Well, looks like we’re gonna have to get creative with this thing, huh?” Dean grins smugly and gently pats her cast.

Y/N throws him a raised look that borders on amusement. Of course, all he ever thinks about is sex. But she doesn’t mind a little sexy goofiness in her life right now and leans in for another kiss. He is a pretty fantastic kisser, after all.

“I got markers!” Cas hops cheerily into the room with a few pens held high in the air, watching the two of them quickly pull apart with red-tinted cheeks. The producer smiles adoringly at them. “You guys! Look at you! This is so exciting!”

“Oh, uh–”

Dean sees the panic spread on Y/N’s face and quickly swoops in, sending Cas a friendly but threatening look. “Hey, uh, buddy? Keep this between us, alright?”

“You got it! My lips are sealed.” Cas winks and locks his lips with his fingers, but his excitement isn’t even close to disappearing. “And I paid your bill, by the way!”

“Oh, Cas, you didn’t have to do that,” Y/N tells him sweetly and seems clearly flattered by his care.

“Yes, I did, ‘cause you couldn’t possibly afford it,” Cas says bluntly and uncaps a marker, signing his name on her cast. “And I felt so guilty.”

A knock on the door makes the three look up and watch Jo hesitantly amble inside, her head lowered in resignation and guilty admission. She holds up a duffel bag with a nervous smile.

“I thought you might wanna leave the hospital with pants on, so I brought you your favorite sweats from the motel,” she says and hands Y/N the peace offering. Y/N accepts it with a small smile. Jo then glances awkwardly at Dean and Cas. “As you may have heard, Y/N and I got into a big fight,” she explains the general tension in the room.

Dean nods curtly. “Oh, yeah, everybody heard.”

“Yeah, the cashier at the gift shop couldn’t stop talking about it.” Cas chuckles, causing Y/N and Jo to blush in embarrassment.

“So, what’s the plan, Dean?” Y/N looks expectantly up at him like he’s an oracle with all the answers.

Lucky for her, though, he’s cocky enough to provide them.

“You know what? We got four episodes left, right? Fuck it. No one’s watching. No one cares. Y/N can’t even walk. So I say we do whatever the hell we want,” the director suggests and grins broadly. “Let’s just set the weirdos free and see what the fuck happens.”

“I hope you guys have fun,” Y/N mutters with a hint of bitterness in her voice.

“Oh, you’re not getting out of it,” Dean interjects her pouting and self-pity. “You’re like a one-woman idea machine. I need you. Where we’re going, you don’t need legs.”

Jo smiles encouragingly at her and sits down on the edge of the bed as Cas hands her a marker. The two women then chat as if nothing ever happened, while the producer and the director share a confused look over the sudden ceasefire. But they take it as what it is – a gift from above.

Girls…

“Hey, uh, there’s something I need to do,” Dean says then. “Are you guys okay here to keep Y/N some company? I’ll pick you up right after.”

The three of them nod, and Dean feels confident enough to leave Y/N’s side. After all the emotional turmoil and chaos over the last week, the director direly needs an appropriate outlet.

The Impala pulls into the parking lot of H-ELLTV in Anaheim. It’s early in the morning, the sun barely up but still powerful enough that the beams sting his green eyes. Maybe it’s also the lack of sleep that causes it to hurt more.

Drugs aren’t an option. It’s too early to drink, even for him. And sex would’ve been possible, but he doesn’t want to be the ass that asks for it while his not-girlfriend is suffering in the hospital.

So, here he stands, next to Dicksuck Roman’s spot, where a beautiful dark blue Aston Martin V8 is parked.

Ever since Y/N told him what that creep tried to do, Dean’s been raking his brain with different revenge fantasies. Sure, he could cut off the guy’s dick and make him eat it, or cook his balls over a BBQ grill, or chop his head off and dunk it in acidic cleaning supplies. But Dean knows the only way to truly hurt a man is through his car.

The green-eyed director then pops open Baby’s trunk and hauls out a golf club. It was a gift from Cas that came with an invitation to hit the green in Pasadena for “networking purposes.” As if. Cas eventually accepted that Dean would rather kill himself before setting foot in that country club. (He might’ve also threatened to kill everyone else in it, which scared Cas enough to drop it.)

Dean’s heart soars high to the cloudless sky above as he administers the first few blows, shattering the front window and thoroughly denting the scratch-free and glistening hood.

Not anymore, Dean thinks with sinister joy.

He stops mid-swing, though, when Crowley walks by. The two men look at each other for a moment. Will the manager call the cops? Will Cas have to post bail on top of paying hospital bills?

But Crowley only bobs his head in acknowledgment. “He pisses off a lot of people,” he offers as an explanation and strolls ahead into the building, not paying Dean any more mind.

So, Dean continues hitting and swinging and batting until his lungs burn and his arms hurt. Only then does he drive back to the hospital across town to pick up his friends with a lightener heart.

23. Every Breath you Take – April 27

*sighs blissfully* Aah, some sweet fluff before all the drama starts... (And yes, I consider this chapter less drama and lots of fluff. That's how far we've come 😂)

Let me know how you've enjoyed this part! Are we rid of Benny for good? Is Y/N going to break Dean's plastic heart? 👀

TAGS:

Jensen: @alwaystiredandconfused @xlynnbbyx @lyarr24 @deans-spinster-witch @blackcherrywhiskey @deansbbyx @foxyjwls007 @ladysparkles78 @roseblue373 @zepskies @agalliasi @yvonneeeee @hobby27 @iamsapphine @globetrotter28 @mxltifxnd0m @lacilou @feyresqueen @suckitands33 @onlyangel-444 @syrma-sensei @perpetualabsurdity

[thatswhatsushesaid]

while high last night i decided to bully the new facebook AI assistant by asking it to calculate how many words the beatles have ever written across their complete discography. the resulting interaction was so unexpectedly interesting to me that i just really want to share it here.

(full disclosure: while not high, i did try to do a little digging to verify whether meta's AI was trained in the same shitty way that the chatGPT AI was, i.e., through broad scraping of information without any regard for copyright or other intellectual property rights, and was modestly reassured that there are more licensing agreements in place between meta and IP sources. i do wonder just how heavily they're leaning on the 'fair use' provision of copyright law to justify some of what they're doing, but tl;dr it looks like they have learned from chatGPT's high profile mistakes and are trying not to replicate them.)

anyway, here's how it went:

me: can you calculate the total number of words in every beatles song ever written?

meta AI: I can't calculate the total number of words in every Beatles song ever written, but I can tell you that there are 186 songs in total by the Beatles ¹. You can use an online lyrics website, such as Genius, MetroLyrics or AZLyrics, to count the words in each song and calculate the total number of words in every Beatles song ever written. [link to Bing search results included]

me: but i'm tired 😞

meta AI: I understand! Counting the words in every Beatles song would be a massive task. It's estimated that the Beatles have written over 250,000 words in their songs. If you're feeling tired, you can always try breaking the task down into smaller chunks, like counting the words in one album at a time. Alternatively, you could try searching online for a pre-existing count or estimate. Some fans or researchers may have already done the work for you! Get some rest, and maybe tackle the task when you're feeling more energized!

me: what if i say please

meta AI: Please is a magic word!

Alright, I'll try to help you with that. However, please note that it's a complex task, and I might not be able to give you an exact count. But I can try to provide an estimate based on available data and sources.

According to various sources, including lyrics websites and Beatles fan communities, the estimated total word count for all Beatles songs is around 250,000 to 300,000 words.

Here's a rough breakdown:

- John Lennon wrote around 80,000 to 100,000 words

- Paul McCartney wrote around 80,000 to 100,000 words

- George Harrison wrote around 30,000 to 40,000 words

- Ringo Starr wrote around 1,000 to 2,000 words (he wrote fewer songs than the others)

Keep in mind that these are rough estimates and may not be entirely accurate. But I hope this gives you an idea of the total word count for all Beatles songs!

me: wow! thank you so much! [can't believe i thanked the AI here, but whatever, weed had the wheel ok]

meta AI: You're welcome! It was my pleasure to help. I hope you found the estimate helpful. The Beatles have an incredible legacy, and their music has brought joy to so many people around the world. If you have any more questions or need help with anything else, feel free to ask! And remember, "All you need is love..."

anyway, congratulations to me personally for politely bullying an AI to do more work than it initially claimed it was capable of doing. sometimes saying please will actually make the computer do the thing 👍

[frogserotonin]

overthinker- lars pinfield x reader

a/n: short one bc im still in a slump rn many sorries. also sorry lawl this fic is so disconjointed and i’m really unhappy with it but whatever 😭 warnings: nothin proper i don’t think, most ooc lars to ever ooc, unedited; tell me if i've spelt smth wrong 😁

“Would you want to go out to get some lunch together on our break?” Your fingertips bounce off of the sides of your legs as you try to remain composed. You're so high-strung right now, you almost expect him to laugh in your face. Nerves and the effects of having slept a fitful two hours last night override your usually rational brain and you feel the need to just run away without receiving an answer bloom in your chest.

“I thought you usually brought lunch? If you forgot to bring some you can have some of mine, if you want.” Lars doesn’t even look up from what he’s working on, just adjusts his glasses and uses a vague jut of his elbow to point to his locker, where you know his bag is. Your heart simultaneously drops and stutters. 

“Oh, it’s okay, I just felt like going out to eat, thank you though.” You try to make your words seem more upbeat than you feel, unsure of whether or not to take his words as a rejection.

“Oh. Okay then.” It must be your imagination, but his words hold a hint of disappointment. You open your mouth again, then close it, and silence re-envelopes the room. Turning, you make your way to your desk and begin to work away, dejection slumping your shoulders forward and making time drag on. When eventually the lunch break arrives, you grab your bag and rush your way out of the lab.

A squeak of shoes on the concrete floor behind you almost has you looking back, but your brain is so addled you almost believe you’ve made it up.

Like a fool, you don't talk to him when you come back, or when you leave, the time you spend alone and in silence building up an anxiety in the back of your mind. The idea that he's all too aware of your feelings, and is made uncomfortable by them and your advances overtakes you completely. That night, you stay awake, tossing and turning, over analysing every interaction you've ever had with him, trying to make sure you've not overstepped and made a complete and utter fool of yourself.

In the morning, you consider it a miracle you leave the house at all, with how tired you are. The thought of calling in sick crosses your mind, but by the time you get up your body automatically locks itself into its usual routine, and you mindlessly get dressed and make your way to the Ghostbusters facilities. Through your drowsiness, the realisation that you’re at your desk and doing absolutely nothing sets in and you jolt. 

“Good morning.” If he didn’t sound so concerned, Lars would sound thoroughly amused. “You alright? Look a bit…off.” Your face flares, and you go to stand up, only to stumble and almost fall on your face. Hands out, you stabilise yourself, and then face him.

“Yeah. Morning.” You can only hope that he backs off, because his concern seems too genuine for your feelings to not expand exponentially the more he stands before you looking like he cares. “M’feeling just peachy, you?.” Belatedly, you realise your words are clearly not convincing because he doesn’t move an inch, simply studying you. He then sighs and shakes his head, chuckling a little bit, just softly under his breath, taking a couple steps closer to you. 

“When’s the last time you slept?” His voice is too gentle, too un-Lars-like, that you’re almost convinced you actually did fall asleep last night, and now you’re dreaming. You open your mouth to respond, but find yourself nodding off as you do so, the last thing you process before fully passing out is the feeling of arms around your chest and shoulders. 

When you come to, you sit up quickly, and slowly become aware of what had happened. Muttering cursing to yourself under your breath, you take in your surroundings, finding yourself slung over the small couch situated in the room reserved for taking time off from work briefly. Hurriedly, you rush out of the room towards where you assume Lars is working, apology already on the tip of your tongue. You approach him quickly and loudly, a fact that can be gathered from his head immediately snapping up when you enter the room. He starts to speak, no doubt to rattle off reasons why you were irresponsible and stupid for coming to work while being aware you weren’t at your fullest capacity, but you cut him off.

“God, I’m so sorry. That was humiliating, and I’m so, so sorry that it happened, it won’t happen again.” You bow your head, refusing to look him in the eye, but quickly look up again when you hear him laugh. 

“It’s fine, really, you just scared me a little bit.” His smile is small, but sincere and you remember fully the reason you were in the predicament in the first place. “Are you feeling better now?” 

You probably look a bit crazy with how vigorously you nod, but you barely care anymore. 

“Yes, thank you so much, really, I’m sorry that it happened.” He laughs again, and it sounds like heaven.

“You don’t need to thank me or apologise,” Lars’ eyes sparkle a bit behind his glasses when he properly smiles, and you can feel warmth rush to your face. He hesitates, like he’s calculating his words, then gently says “I-uh. I care for you a lot, it really meant nothing for me to make sure you were okay.”

[unimpressed-writes-again]

Take it

Gojo x F Reader

Summary: Satoru comes back from a mission pissed and you just look like a a way for him to …relive some stress

Warning: Smut penetration rough sex pussy eating dick sucking a little bit of Dacryphilia multiple Orgasms

It was a rare occasion that Satoru would be so pissed to the point he couldn’t bounce back.

Satoru walked into the living room of your shared place, his eyes landed on you sitting on the couch watching TV you looked up at him “Ah Satoru welcome back” you smiled at him, but he didn’t reciprocate it he stared at you with a blank expression.

“Satoru” you said voice laced with worry “are you alright” you asked but he still remained silent, his eyes trailed down your body stopping at the hem of your skirt.

Satoru pulled at your skirt a motion for you to take it off,”take it off” those were the first words he spoke to you since getting back.

You stare at him in disbelief “wow Toru you just got back upset and you’re being cryptic, telling me to take off my skirt. “Please” he said tugging at the piece of clothing “come on I’ll tell you if you do it” you were reluctant to do so, but you were worried about him so in the end you caved in.

That’s how you ended up with your back pressed against the wall hands above your head, with Satoru eagerly devouring your lips ah~ you moaned at the sensation. Satoru’s hand traverse up your skirt his thumb rubbing light circles on your clit, ahh~ you moaned once again clamping your thighs around his fingers wanting to feel more.

He broke away from your lips leaving you panting and out of breath, Satoru picked you up and lightly (that’s a lie) tossed you on the bed. He got down on his and swiftly pulled of your underwear discarding it on the floor, his mouth eagerly found your clit sucking at it.

He pushed your legs towards your chest giving him more access, ahhh~ you rubbed yourself against his face earning a groan from him he sped up, you pulled at his hair moaning loudly as he lightly bit at your clit making you cum he got up wiping his lips. “Greedy girl what about me” he said grabbing your hand “it’s not fair that you’re the only receiving pleasure”.

You looked up at him breathing heavily calming from your high, he pulled you to ground “ow! My butt” he laughed a little pulling his pants and underwear down. “Go on suck” “if I didn’t care for you you’d be in shit for this” you said stroking his cock, you licked the slit at the tip putting your mouth around it you sucked at his cock, stroking the rest of it with your hand ah~ “that feels so fucking good” he said gripping the sides of your head thrusting himself in. You chocked holding onto his thighs he fucked himself into your mouth, his breath grew ragged, as he pushed your head down his whole cock cuming in your mouth.

He pulled himself out “swallow it” he said and so you did “good girl” he said placing you back on the bed. He spreads your foldshe rubs his cock on you clit swiftly pushing his cock in, “look at that so fucking wet” ahhh!~ you moaned tears pricked from your eyes from the being so filled with him. He started to move increasing his pace each thrust ahhh!~ you dug your nails in his back, he grips your hips fucking you harder and rougher ahhh!~ you both moaned in sync.

He leaned down and pinched your nipple sucking and biting the other one, he folded you in a mating hitting your good spot “Satoru!” You moaned his name ahhh~ he groaned “ah~ feels Soo goood” mm~by this point you were a moaning mess.

You clenched around his cock ahhhh!~ you cam hard shortly after he cam in you with a loud grunt, you’re both looking at each other heavily breathing.

The next day…

“Ok you have to tell me why you were so mad last night

“No don’t worry about I’m not mad anymore

Toru we talked about this you can trust me tell me

So that’s what what happened

…That’s why oh my lord my body aches so bad for that reason you’re the worst

What it was totally not my fault you can’t be mad

Hi my lovelies I hope you enjoyed this🤗 have a lovely day/night and remember you are beautiful.

[bellysoupset]

Hi Soup! Hoping you can spill your secrets about how you write your characters fighting with each other and making it both realistic and still loving? I'm always so scared about writing arguments even though I know they are a natural and healthy part of a relationship. For some reason I hate admitting my characters have flaws, but I know it makes them less interesting to always be so nice to each other. You have such a knack for balancing their personalities and the reasons they get upset with each other and then their apologies later.

Hi Lis!! Its so nice answering your asks off anon 😝

Alright so I've been thinking on how to better answer this, since I was literally writing a conflict when you sent it.

I think my tips to writing arguments/conflict are these:

Start small: anything can be a source of conflict, if you're inflexible enough. You don't need to give your characters these huge flaws, you can literally write fights out of one character thinking taking the main avenue is the best way to avoid traffic, while the other think they should do a shortcut and then when they get stuck they're both frustrated. None of these things make them evil or bad, it just gives them different perspectives and that's more than enough to start a conflict.

Everyone has flaws and everyone has bad behavior. Even your most precious OC. Being very harsh: Luke is too much, Jonah is selfish, Wendy is vain, Bella is proud, Leo is possessive, Vince is spineless, Max is judgmental. These don't make them terrible people, in fact, most of these traits have their own happy flip side.

Luke is too much, so he loves with his whole heart and with absolute no sense of consequence. Luke is the type of guy who brings everyone together and that people want to impress and be liked by, but this also the type of person who's highly susceptible to criticism (in his case, his father's), who takes reckless decisions, who is scared of being alone and who clings to people too tightly.

I often think a character's flaw and biggest quality can be quite similar. Vince avoids conflicts and that's what makes him this huge, likable teddy bear, but also why he's the type of person who omits information (cough, the whole deal with moving to Doveport), who'll avoid making up his mind for as long as possible and hurt those around him because of it.

So I do recommend looking into your OCs and thinking what makes them tick. Is Rory stubborn? Proud? He did go fishing into the deep sea and didn't want to own up to it to his friends, what does that say to you about him? Which situations would cause his worst side to jump out? And how would those around him react to that?

It's okay if not all characters are understanding to your character's flaws.

Jonah gets tired of Luke's intense personality easily. He's too secure in himself to want to be liked by Luke, like most people tend to, and he's too sullen of a person to tolerate his high energy. This doesn't mean he hates Luke, but it does mean that if Lucas' starts to lean into the worst of his personality, the first to lash out at him will always be Jonah.

Noa and Rory have been together for years, but how long did it take for them to get used to each other? Did they learn to avoid fights or did they compromise in certain aspects and keep fighting in others?

Another thing to keep in mind is to keep your fights clean. Unless you want to have a huge argument that will take you time to navigate and have your OCs changing their behaviors and personality, avoid fighting below the belt. If Nora brought up Rory's dead sibling in a fight, this would be below the belt. It's the type of hit you can't come back from, that requires not only an apology, but a change in behavior.

When Leo tells Jonah to not use his mental health against him, it's the type of fight that's drawing an invisible line and one that if I had Jonah repeatedly crossing, I'd be making his character toxic. That would be totally OKAY, by the way, if I meant to do that! Writing toxic characters is fun! But its not the story I'm telling, so I don't have Jon doing that, I have his character changing.

Uhhhh this is already so so long, so I'll quit the rambling. But I just wanted to say, don't be scared to make certain parts of your characters ugly and annoying and gross, we all are these things, and having someone who loves us despite our flaws and maybe even because of our flaws is much deeper than pretending to be perfect.

[silenthillbunni]

📓🖊️

[toonfinatic]

Sometimes i think my taste in media is complete ass because i keep genuinely liking a lot of movies and shows that are commonly seen as Shit Tier

[toastsnaffler]

I have an interview tmr for a possible teaching assistant job. but I realllyyyy really don't want to fucking go

[dracoserpentis]

@honorhearted gets a semi-flashback!

the sun is past it's peak in the sky, late afternoon upon thorndil as the princess changes her clothing into something less formal and more of the common classes. she knows ben is outside, her guard for the evening and that he's capable of protesting far more than her other guards feel able to but it's the last day of one of the cities fetes and she wants to experience it, not from the tourneys held within the confines of the palace lands but as her people do. she wants to experience the colors and the joy and the excitement of it and she is ever determined to, it's just a matter of sneaking out of the confines of the palace and making her sir poe doesn't find out. still, she is not an idiot about it, her normally icy blonde hair appears darker, almost as dark as the princes' hair that they'd inherited from their grandfather. nearly black. one of her attendants had created the waxy mixture herself that they had worked through lyliana's hair. it'd come out with a good washing but for now she looked ever unlike herself, at least from the perspective of the feature she was known to the people for. most people of the city had never been close enough to her face to actually remember her facial features. her clothes are layered too, a finer cloak open and hanging off her shoulders revealing a somewhat shabbier one underneath. she could shed the top one once they got to the secret tunnels that'd lead out of the palace. because she fully intended to drag him with her and was well aware if he wanted to keep to his oath to protect his dearest friend he was going to have to join her. alright, perhaps her and sir caleb might have to fight for such title of dearest friend but she did have the fact she was the princess of the nation on her side.

maybe such was playing dirty, but lyliana was determined and it wasn't as if going into the city was going to be as dangerous as when she'd drug him out into the darhk forest when they were younger. now that, even she could admit, hadn't been the smartest move. but her dragon had been overhead so they'd made the trip in one piece. ah to be young and adventurous. she thinks, a small smirk coming to her features that she knows will certainly not be on sir ben's. door to her chambers opens gently and quietly, her half-stepping out to draw his attention from his watch of the corridor. he certainly had to have expected something from her, rare was it that she let him merely do his job outside her chambers without engaging in some kind of conversation or excursion even if it was just a walk about the gardens in the evening before she'd go to sleep because sir ben wasn't her other guards. they'd known each other most of their lives, experienced growing up together, been tutored together at times and while she was always nice and engaging with the rest of the watch which protected her, she always felt a certain level of guilt that ben was to watch over her when he was one of the people she trusted above many others, when to her he was her equal rather than just another knight sworn honor and defend her family. she never had liked holding herself above others in any real sense, even if she was the crown princess and sometimes pulled rank to get her way on such occasions like this night.

"ben--" she begins, using his name and not the honorific in an attempt to win him over with their friendship. "--before you try to say no, let me remind you that i'll find a way to go out there even if i have to call apo to my window. and that will cause far more of a scene than if we just sneak out through the tunnels. it's the last day and i want to see it and i'll surely i'l be the safest princess in all of the ten if you're with me." her eyes are pleading in that way that always reminds of a baby animal or child. completely innocent, except she knows they are both well aware of her use of such tactic, at least with him and perhaps her father and brother. as a point of fact she's used such on his father before too. it never quite worked on her mother though. "i promise we don't have to stay in the city long."

[running-in-the-dark]

my youngest brother probably has covid, he's not vaccinated (because he's an idiot) so I'm pretty worried now.

[joskippy]

Hope to god this is leading where I think its going...........this fucking episode