#I fucking love these two their good representation and a step in the right direction

[ryuto12]

Once again back on my yearly bullshit to stress how important Bumbleby really is for sapphics in media

Bumbleby is a slow burn, opposites attract, golden retriever/black cat romance. Individually Blake and Yang are both well written female characters, and not to mention their two of the four titular characters.

It wasn’t rushed, they aren’t badly written and they’re not random side characters.

It’s to easy to forget that Lexa died in Clarke’s arms, that Korra and Asami had to walk into the light, and that so many other shows have been cancelled or one of them died.

Bumbleby is a win

#rwby #bumbleby #yang xiao long #blake belladonna #I fucking love these two their good representation and a step in the right direction #amaya and janai will one day get their own post like this but that’s for another time

[rising-shellshock]

Okay, I understand! 😊👌 Thank you for answering my questions I appreciate! I have few more questions for you. Q#1: What are your thoughts on Rottmnt Donnie and Rottmnt Leo? Q#2: What are your favorite Rottmnt characters you admire? Mine are Rottmnt Donnie and Rottmnt Leo! 💘 Q#3: What are your least favorite Rottmnt characters you hate? ~🌺

Well 1 and 2 kinda go hand in hand

My favorite is Donnie, I adore this little shit (/affectionate) with all of my heart. Especially as someone who is also on the spectrum. I didn't think I'd be right about him being Autistic BUT I WAS AND I AM SO HAPPY BECAUSE HE IS SUCH GOOD REPRESENTATION.

Anywho, I just adore how he's got his own way of caring so deeply for his brothers, he's so quick witted and dry, (He is, in fact, the funny one. Closely followed by Leo to be fair.) knows how to get shit done, (meaning he CARRIES the team in the early parts of the series FIGHT ME) knows his shit in general, and so SO much more. I'd be typing paragraphs on paragraphs on him. Just know he's a hard ass with a heart of a softie. Kinda a lot like his shell when you really think of it. Cold and hardshell outwardly, Soft and needs to be handled gently inwardly.

Now for the other brothers let's knock them out a little quicker or we'll be here for a WHILE

Leo has grown so much over the series and movie, and it's no wonder why so much love goes to him. He's quick to think on his feet and he's my favorite Leonardo that I've seen. (Not that the previous iterations were bad! No! I love 2012 Leo for example. But Rise is just much more defined in personality to me. The others had one (some more than others, but they did) just not as straightforward to get as ROTTMNT Leo.)

Raph is just... A sweetheart teddy bear. Sure, I love the hardass the other Raphs are, and it makes sense because among the TEENAGERS someone is gonna be a little more rough around the edges and standoffish, in fact I think it would be weird without one of them being that way. But Raph being the eldest gave my eldest sibling position a LOT to relate to. (I was also internally screaming at the Pizza Puffs episode.) And his care for his brothers to ve tough via the protector is admirable. Lord knows I'd do the same.

And Mikey... Man. How do I even begin with this baby boy? I always adored Mikey (2012 Mikey was my favorite as a kid right behind Raph. Yes, Raph was my favorite as a kid even though he was basically my opposite IDK how.) and Rise Mikey was no exception. He has high empathy, something I relate to FAR too much, and he doesn't want to be coddled, which I can also relate to. He's trying his best and his optimism is NEVER annoying. You really just want to hug him! What a good bean he is! Everyone is!

...Well almost everyone. Yeah I do have a... Pretty hot take.

My least favorite is kinda a tie in their own ways that I've been a bit more vocal about.

That being Splinter and Draxum. I'm sorry but the adult figures and family themes with parents were just... Not handled well to me I'm sorry.

Yeaaaah I know I know, that's the whole point with Splinter is that he grows as the series goes on, but it just was FAR too little for me to be satisfied with. Like the show was cut short, yeah, but even with the series cut short there was REALLY no episode with Splinter growing as a father more than "Oh I fucked up and I *apologize*" LIKE??????

Especially when he has episodes where he takes two steps in the OTHER DIRECTION

Y'know like-

And this was the first out of the series, before the movie came out, that Donnie actually and seriously cried. Which just. Shows how much. This HURT HIM. WHICH IS ENTIRELY FAIR AND HE DESERVES HIS ANGER.

But that's a topic for my main blog to tackle for another time. For now, I'll just reblog the part one I have after this since I go into more detail there.

But yeah. Splinter and Draxum are my answers for the third question. The teens were handled FAR better than the adults.

#not an x reader #mun yells #long post

[minshookie]

High Ransom.

Pairing |Mafia!BTS x innocent!reader

Genre | smut, angst, dark themed, mafia AU.

Summary | “They all knew your mothers word was good for nothing, she’d never pay it back. So they settled for a painful compromise.”

!warnings! Please read this before reading the fic| 18+ mature language, perverse actions, virginity loss, violent sex, anal sex, oral fem and male receiving, financial struggle, parent death, strict and neglecting mother, cum eating, darcyphilia, urolagnia,slight hate-fuck,reader insert is of age, extremely naive & innocent insert. I do not agree or support any actions depicted in this fictional work,rape. !!NON-CON!! !!non-con!!

| this is not in anyway shape or form a true depiction or representation of BTS, this is a work of fiction and is not to be taken seriously. For entertainment purposes only.|

(this is my work, please don’t repost or steal)

Requested [open for request] words: 4k.

A/N: 200 Follwers?! Hi, I love y’all sm 🤧. But on a serious note, this is the filthiest thing I’ve ever written, I warned y’all. Also the longest one of written yet. I hope it isn’t too much :’) please excuse any mistakes or grammatical errors.

Could they be running late? Shivering you sat in the windowsill towel wrapped around you keeping a sharp eye for their large dark SUV you loved so dearly. They were supposed to be here today, right? Getting up you stretch your legs going to look at your heavily decorated calendar,‘Friends Day!!’ In bright pink informed you, yes indeed they were to be here today.

A smile crept on your face, the confirmation made you feel giddy, the thought of seeing them again made you excited beyond belief. “Y/n I just know you’re dressed and not dripping all over the carpet!” Your mother teased from the living room. You swore she had cameras on you, unraveling yourself you chose one of the few outfits she had put together for you for guest appearances. Closing the curtains, making them look as casual as you could. You then sat on the bed waiting for her to come inspect, counting her footsteps along the creaking wood floors. She crept into your room, a stern expression on her face, you could tell she was stressed with nothing positive to say she mumbled “Stop pulling that face you look exactly like your father.”

You stood from the drab mattress choosing not to respond, “wet spot on the floor?! What’d I tell you to do?!” You hung your head, why must she always scold you. “You told me to get dressed Momma.” She sighed, “and you chose to come in here and prance around, flood the floors and dilly dally instead!” You studied the minuscule dark spots on the carpet, “they’ll dry momma.” You whispered under your breath hoping she wouldn’t decipher your response.

“Excuse me?” She griped your cheek in a pinch making you pull your head up to face her. She took a step back releasing your face, she sucked her teeth in disapproval. “Y/n you’ll have stay in here, that dress has gotten too short on you.” She knew her words hurt you, seeing the boys was the only thing you looked forward to every month. Their attention sometimes felt like your only reason to go forward, to avoid conflict with your mother, their presence being a type of reward. She turned to go and your vision began to blur, tears warmly cascade your plumped cheek.

Leaving you alone in the room, you resume your position in the windowsill moving the curtains just enough to peak. Still no sign of them, maybe they’d given up on the money, left you for good and you couldn’t blame them. If you could leave you would too. At that moment all hopes were given up, no longer keeping an eye out you began to daydream... at least Momma would be happier no longer having to worry about the escalating debt.

Sulking in loneliness you barely noticed a white SUV pulling into their usual cut....whose this? You opened the curtains repositioning,hands in the glass knees on the jagged wood of the windowsill bench. Couldn’t be, oh but it was! You bounced like a hyperactive child, Hoseok climbed from the drivers seat handsomely waving directly at you. They all followed offering you waves and air kisses making both your stomach and heart do flips. Tumbling from the bench you run to your door eccentric to get your fix of attention, affection, friendship.

“Get back y/n, what did I say?” She was waiting for you to break her command, she knew you’d forget. “To stay in my ro-” “so why don’t you do as told for once?” You fought the bitter tears as they knocked on the door, You shuffled back into your cage of room like a kicked puppy. Shutting the door you sat on the floor compressing your ear along the hard wood.

“Ah, welcome! Come in take a seat can I get you a drink or a meal? Anything really.” She spoke with a quiver, she had nothing to pay them back with absolute zilch. “Where’s y/n?” You smiled warmly, that voice had to be Taehyung. “She’s in bed sick.” “Sick, she looked alright from the window.” Hoseok you idiot. “I’m sorry... you saw her through the window?”

“Ah Ah, we didn’t come to talk about the build of y/n’s room you know what he want.” Jin was all serous business, the room was silent. “Next month for sure.” She lied right through her teeth and they all knew it. “You said that last month, and the month before, and the month before that.” You held your breath, you hated it when they bickered she honestly didn’t have the money you two only lived in this house because it was your father’s property, and everything you got just by luck and the skin of your teeth. She simply couldn’t afford to borrow anymore, as the boys began to add impossible interest.

“Listen, we’ve let you off the hook because of your circumstances,we had a soft spot, we held you at a respect for your strength...but now the well is drying up on patience and your debt is growing into a monstrosity.” Namjoon gave his spiel

“Your husband may be dead, but honey you’re next if this money doesn’t turn up...and the plans they have for y/n aren’t cute, if you had any decency you’d get your ass off that insurance money and pay up, don’t forget you pay for protection and soon you’re going to start getting what you pay for.” Yoongi was rude whenever he came to collect, almost never staying for the excuses once ‘no’ or ‘later’ was uttered he’d head for the door, but today he decided to do otherwise.

The room fell quiet, and though your mother was cold and not much of a mother at all to you it pained you to hear her sobs and sniffing. You could tell the words being thrown at her stung her deeply. Curious to what was going on behind your door you decided to have a peak, and apparently you weren’t too good at sneaking. Your door cracked ajar, as if he knew it would happen you made direct eye contact with Taehyung.

“Boys I-I don’t know what you want from me you know the money isn’t in my possession right n-” “y/n! Come out from hiding kitten!” Opening the door you stood reading the room, your mothers face glistening, you know better than to disobey on purpose. “It’s ok y/n c’mon we want to see you.” Joon’s smile is so captivating his voice so relaxing, but your mothers gaze killed its power. “C’mon tell her she can come out.” Jin orders and your mother complies by giving you a nod of permission, sniffing over her concealed cries. It ached your but you were too excited to comfort her as you quickly escaped your confines.

“Ohh look at your pretty dress, come sit.” Taehyung pulled you onto his lap, “isn’t it pretty boys?” He pulled the fringes that decorated the bottom, barely reaching you mid thigh. “Everything’s beautiful on our y/n.” Jimin agrees, greeting you with a flirtatious wink. Making you smile into Taehyung’s chest. “Bashful girl.” His large hand rubbed your back soothingly.

“This delicate little thing around all those men with no one to help her, tsk could you imagine.” He glided his hand along your exposed thigh “that tickles.” Whispering into him you feel you face warm up. He hums in response, “want me to stop?” “No, I’ve missed you, I’ve missed all of you!” You turned catching all of their gazes, “same to you princess.” Jin chuckled, giving you a cheek kiss.

“Please let her-r go ba-ck now.” Their smiles faded, and you’d hate to admit it but yours as well. You’d usually never go against your mother but she just didn’t want to see you happy, ever. And you hated it. “Momma...I don’t wanna go back right now, can I be with my friends?” Her eyes stretched in shock and anger, the boys found your rebellion comedic letting a chuckle escape. “Y/n get back to your room now you have no clue what you’re playing with!” Her tone made you wince, no longer feeling bold you were about to comply. Taehyung griped your waist holding you back on top of him.

“And who are you to order someone around when you can’t follow orders yourself?” She sat speechless, “Taehyung, Namjoon, Jin...next month.” Her pleads were pathetic, even you knew it wouldn’t work this time. “No. Pay up today, or we’ll be taking some sweet sweet collateral.”At the moment you didn’t fully understand or care what exactly Taehyung was threatening, the only thing your brain could focus on being his rough palm griping and rubbing your inner thigh. The sensation caused a tingle within you, you couldn’t help but fidget in his lap. “Still tickling baby?” You nodded, a bit too flustered to speak.

“I-I I have a hundred or two I can give.” His hand ceased its motions, making you whine for more of the foreign feeling. He lifted a brow in suspect “You take us as a joke don’t you?” She shook her head frantically. “You just offered us not even a fraction of a year's worth of debt...you think we’re idiots, you think we won’t do what we say we will do you?” The tension made you uncomfortable as everyone glared at your mother for her response, you gripped Taehyung’s dark suit. “Hmph, okay Y/n, show us your pretty room Love.”

A simple request made your mother stand in protests, “going to get the rest of the money?” Yoongi asked knowingly, your mother trembled. Why was she so afraid, they only asked to see your room...maybe she was still upset over the wet spots. “No? Well I suggest you sit the fuck down.” Everyone left from their seat, “go on show us Petal.” He smiled in encouragement. You pulled Taehyung by his hand showing all of them into your seemingly empty room, nothing to embellish the space besides your curtains, calendar and bed.

“Very cute, very cute, right boys?” They hummed nodding while looking at the four bland walls around them. “Jungkook won’t you close the door please.” He demands the youngest, and he does as told, letting your catch a two second glance if your sniveling mother before your fate was sealed. “Lock it will you?” “Uhm it doesn’t lock.” You confessed plopping down on your plush mattress kicking your feet over the edge. “Ahh, Jungkook...make it lock.” He went to work and you watched curiously until your attention was taken by Taehyung climbing in bed next to you. “Very comfy.” He complemented.

“Oh, oh please take your shoes off.” You recited rules that were practically engraved in your memory. He laughed complying, “you heard her, shoes off.” They did as told, making your laugh at their unison actions. You turned to him with a smile still on your face, “want to see my closet?” “No, but I do want you to lay down.” You gave him an inquisitive look, you weren’t sick and you definitely weren’t tired. “It’s ok, I just wanted to play a game, a friends game.”

Oh how excited you were! A game with your friends! You laid down beside him your head rested on your pillow. “Ready?” You nodded eagerly, the rest of them watched closely. “Ok beautiful, I’m going to ask you some things and all you have to do is tell me if you’ve done it before...” he looked around at his men, they looked back with anticipation. “We’ll all play.” You nodded, beyond excited for this new experience.

“We’ll start easy, have you ever kissed someone?” Your face grew a dopey grin, “don’t be shy.” You nodded quickly, “oh? Show me how.” Sitting up a bit, you took his jaw, turning him to the side pecking his warmed cheek quickly. He smiled widely, “innocent little thing, here let’s try this.” He took your jaw in his fingers, coming in and ravishing your lips. Unknowingly you lay motionless as he took over the kiss, maneuvering you as he pleased. Pulling your slack chin he parted your lips, his tongue intruded sharing his taste. A tingle ran through you, you’ve never seen something like this let alone feel it. Taehyung pulled back trailing slobber as he lifted, “m-more more kissing!” He shook his head, laughing at your greed. “No no, there’s more to the game.”

Smirking he snuck his hand under your quaint dress, “ever let Somebody like me see your cute little panties?” You shook your head no, “let us see?” You eagerly pulled your dress up, “pretty in pink...wet your panties hmm?” Sheepishly you shut your legs, “sorry.” He rubbed your exposed tummy, “no don’t be sorry kitten, that’s great, so good.” He dragged his fingers along your pelvic area. “Yoongi, your turn?” Taehyung continued to brush your skin.

Yoongi stood from his seat on the floor in speciation. He brought his finger between your legs using his other hand to push your legs apart. “Ever felt something like this?” He ran his fingers up and down your middle, pausing along the top giving you an oddly familiar feeling that you loved. “Mm.” You moved a bit closer to the pleasure. “Yoongi stop, answer him y/n.” Nodding you yearned for yoongi’s fingers. “Don’t lie...show us.”

Rolling over you pulled a pillow from behind you positioning it between your legs as you lay on your side. “Go on.” Yoongi nudged you and you began to rub yourself, pushing the pillow firmer into your core whimpering as the pressure increased, “it feels so good!” “Naughty naughty y/n.” You continued to pleasure yourself, “mm I know, please don’t tell anybody.” Taehyung took the pillow rubbing his finger along the wet spot you left behind. “You ever cum sweetheart?” You squeeze your legs together hoping for pleasureful friction. “What’s that?”

“You’ve been rubbing yourself raw with no release?” He had a glint of pitty in his tone. “ I-I guess.” Yoongi had began his adventurous handy work once again and you couldn’t get enough. He sat beside you, looking into your eyes intently. “How’s it feel?” “Good, please don’t stop!” Taehyung pulled his partners hand away, “don’t give her too much Hyung.”

You pout squirming, itching with pent up sexual frustrations. “You both play like she’s a doll, she’s a woman, you know what she wants even if she doesn’t.” Jin came from his spot leaned against the corner, he came close stalking over your figure, “take these off.” He pulled your panties roughly you could hear the weak fabric give way as he stripped you.

“Careful.” You felt self conscious as they eyed your nude private area, Jin took over where Yoongi was removed, the direct contact could make you scream in joy, “close your eyes.” Jin ordered, and who are you to say no to the pleasure. A strange warmth took over your core making your hips jump uncontrollably “mhhm please.” “Hold her down Hoseok.” Even that simple second of neglect made you upset. Your hips were restrained and Jin continued his work, “sorry.” You opened your eyes to meet Taehyung’s gaze and a smile was plastered on his features, looking down at Jin who  was kissing your privates, so strange but so amazing.

“Oh please!” You couldn’t control your moans, closing your eyes, “too good princess?” “Mm too good.” Jin removed his lips from you “you're a savage Kim.” Jungkook comments eyes glued to your core, as if he couldn’t resist the view. “Some hair shows she is healthy n’ pure , but you wouldn’t know anything about that, you like your women whorish” He comments lewdly wiping his plump lips. They stood in speculation as you pressed your thighs together desperately. “Oh please! Jin please more!” You earned a hand over your mouth. In attempts to shut your pathetic whines. “Please don’t hurt her!” Your mother beat the door with concern. “Does she sound hurt, don’t make us do something we don’t want to, now go away!” Taehyung growled, before leaving the bed, he undid his pants the respect in you made you look away. “Ever see this before?” He climbed over you, too cowardly to peak, you kept looking into his dark irises. “Your private?” He laughed in your face, “my cock?” He sat on your legs trapping you. He pulled your dress over your head, fully undressing you with ease.

Taken over my temptation, Jimin groped your clothed chest “don’t touch her.” His command was final, Taehyung had been taken by the monster of greed and lust. “Go on look y/n.” Your eyes slowly traveled down, he had himself in his clutches stroking squeezing at the tip collecting the strange ooze on the tips of his fingers. Reaching he glossed your lips with his juices, “never wear makeup, this is all you need pretty girl.” The smell was strong and musky, curious you took a taste, sweaty and sweet. “Greedy girl...you know where this belongs?” He tapped you with his erect cock.

“I don’t think so.” He nodded, reaching below himself without hesitation he penetrated you with his index. “Ouch Tae!” His eyes stretched in surprise, “that hurts? Oh what fun you’ll be.” His finger stretched you slightly as he explored, thrusting softly, curly at the knuckle. Pulling his finger back, and a thick stripe of cloudy grool connects the two of you. “Shit, would you look at that.” They came looking as you lay victim Yoongi had pulled himself from his pants stroking himself shamelessly. Hoseok unbuttoned his top, his fist buried in his pants, while Jimin palmed himself giving you a warm smile, while Jungkook sat timid away from the action and Jin’s face set stoney, seemingly uninterested. Namjoon being the false comfort he was, he stood close, his bulge in your face as he stroked your hair.

Out of breath, the best you could muster being, “I’m sorry if it’s gross.” Lustfully he used your nectar to stroke himself sensually making violent eye contact in the act.

“Stop apologizing, this is the best cunt I’ve ever seen.” Using his foreign vulgar vocabulary he moved back, using his hands to get a better view of your most personal area. “Oh honey, you’ve never had anything in this sweet pussy of yours huh?” You shook your head, “no never.” You whisper. “Let’s change that yeah? Will you be a big girl?” You nodded body full of utter curiosity, what was coming for you the last thing you could have fathomed.

“Mm, you’re the sweetest thing on Earth y/n” he gazed into you, looking your shivering body up and down as if you two were completely alone. He lowered himself distracting you with another one sided kiss, this time though you attempted to participate.

Little did you know his hidden agenda, he gripped his girthy member, massaging it along your slickening core in search of your small entrance. “Ah Ah Taehyungie!” You squealed against his lips. He’d barely pushed into you and the pain was prominent “shh shh wouldn’t want to make momma upset.” He paused and looked down at your slightly connecting bodies. “Hmm Let’s play another game.” He reached for the pillow you were pleasuring yourself on, he placed it over your face constricting your air in the process, muffling your pathetic whimpers and mewls.

In one violent action...“TEAHYUNG!” Your throat felt as if it would collapse,He forced himself into your constructing entrance ripping your walls you felt yourself struggle to become accustomed his size. His pace inhuman. You gasped for air,the pillow blocking any gasp you could get. “I can’t breathe! I can’t breathe Tae!” He kept his murderous stroke speed pulling the pillow from your face you heaved, sobbing, screaming begging for freedom. “Shut the fuck up!” It could’ve been the tears, or haze of pain, but this wasn’t your friend anymore.

Taehyung’s face as contorted in sick pleasure inconsiderate of your wellbeing he gripped your hips fucking into you aggression never seen before. “T-Tae please we’re friends don’t hurt me!” You cried out for his mercy. “Hold her fucking mouth Min.” He obliged, his hand slick from his own juices. He stood over you griping and jerking his member, keeping his eyes on yours. “Close your damn eyes, your crying is going to make me soft.” That only made you cry more, the treatment you were getting from Taehyung caused an ache you couldn’t help but sob from. “It i-it fucking hurts!” You let the filth spill from your mouth as you groaned with every thrust, your statement muffed by Yoongi’s palm.

“Close. Them. Now.” Stubbornly you kept staring, you won’t obey them, friends aren’t supposed to to hurt you, ever. “Ahh fuck.” Yoongi began to vandalize your face, removing his hand from your mouth pulling your hair to aim for your mouth. “Ah shit shit.” He continued to stroke grumbling heinous names under his breath. “My eyes please help me momma,it hurts momma!” He’d spurted right in your eye and he knew it. “I told you to close them idiotic bitch, you obey us you’ll be alright.” He took your discarded panties wiping your eye.

You didn’t listen to his angered grumblings...She didn’t respond, she left you to suffer, you were being naughty and she could hear and she left you to suffer. The pain in your eye became dull as you became numb to Taehyung’s assault. “She left you, that bitch left you in here to get fucked, and you’re going to take everything we give thanks to mommy dearest...no one is going to rescue you.” Yoongi growled I’m your ear, you turned from him. His seed still rests on your pained features.

Taehyung pushed his thumbs roughly into your abdomen making you cry out. “Your cunt is still so tight, mm fuck stop clenching like that- I’m gonna fucking- oh shit.” He sent his seed deep into you, the sensation was sickening you began to dry heave having nothing in you to throw up. “Throwing up sweetheart?” You ignored his false concern, he gripped your hair. “Think twice before you do, you’ll be cleaning it with that pretty mouth every drop.”

Your face drenched in tears, snot and slobber, and the seed of another, you lay in defeat. He pulled his member for your stinging and burning feeling settled between your legs. “Nice job, you’ve beat her bloody.” Jin grumbled coming near, your entrance oozed a mixture of his cum and blood from your lost innocents. His finger brushed against your puffy injured vulva, “please no no nooo!” You instinctively backed away from the contact.

“My turn princess.” Your eyes closed, you could tell it was Jimin planning his attack. “Please Jimin, you’re still my friend right?” You Sobbed to weakly to even look into his eyes, Jimin had to put an end to it or it wouldn’t end at all. “I treat all my girlfriends this way, hm don’t worry baby it won’t hurt-” you heard him wander closer, “just open up.” You refused, turning your head away from his voice, “Ah y/n don’t be that way.” He slightly scolded pulling you back his way by your jaw, “open your mouth y/n.” You opened your eyes, glaring at him, your right eye blurring and irritated. He rubbed his member along your pursed lips. “No?” He leaned over, his member in his over hand. “Open. The. Fuck! Up.” He slapped your pussy harshly with every word, already sore you cried out, begging for mercy.

He took the opportunity, plunging his cock down your throat, gagging you choked and cried. “Yah stupid Bitch watch your teeth!” He gripped the back of your head, another agonizing ordeal. Your throat was sore from the screaming and now your throat was being rubbed roughly by Jimin’s third leg. “I’m gonna c-cum, and you’re gonna swallow all of it and you’re gonna keep it down.”

You couldn’t protest, you got used just as before you closed your eyes and prayed for it to be over as quick as it started. Hoseok neared you like a predator, “careful she’s sore.” You opened your eyes quickly, he had his pants completely off, his member erect his shirt open his sculpted body on display. You sobbed around jimins member as he took his time fucking himself into you. “I’m not putting my prick I that mess.” He referred to your battered entrance, he placed his clock between your folds, rubbing himself their. Even the subtle pressure gave you discomfort, “hey! Watch those fucking teeth slut!” Jimin beat the back of your head, picking up his pace.

“She sounds so fucking nasty.” Namjoon pulled himself out of his trousers “choking and gagging, fucking whore I wouldn’t fuck you even if your mom offered all the money she owed.” Namjoon insulted, pulling closer, “what an asshole.” Jimin grunted in retaliation. “This is all you’ll get from me.” Namjoon leaned over you, assaulting you relieving himself on your quaking body. “You sick bastard!” They found Namjoon’s action sickly humorous. He moved to your face, you tried to stop breathing in fear of inhaling it. Warmly it dribbled over you. “I bet you fucking enjoyed it.”

Jimin pushed your damp head down on him as he exploded in your mouth, that scene being all he needed to find his high. His seed was salty and less sweet; he tasted repulsive. You gagged as he removed himself, you leaned over the bed in utter pain heaving. “AHT HEY!” Taehyung cupped your mouth, “swallow be a good girl.” He rolled you back, you tried but your body refused, you gagged against his musty palm. Jimin pinched your nose “take it, take it, take it!” Air became scarce, you gulped ingesting his warm seed, the taste blanketed your throat.

They let you breathe, Hoseok found his release on your tummy, scooping it with his agile fingers he force fed you. “Please...n-no...more.” “Shut up, your breath reeks.” Your stomach flipped, you were going to be sick soon. “Roll her over.” Jin instructed, and of course they followed you let them do as they please, not like you could stop them. “Your pussy is beautiful, but I love a nice ass.” He unbuckled his belt, letting his pants fall. Spitting vulgarly, stroking himself. “Bite the pillow.” He pulled you up by your waist. Using his thumb he rimmed you.

Getting positioned he spit on your hole. The room was quiet. “Bite it hard.” He pushed himself mercilessly barely breaking through, “tight little bitch.” Your screeching earsplitting You’d become unconscious soon the pain was excruciating, you knew you were bleeding. “Please! I’ll do anything!Please not this, no more of this!” Finally he bottomed you out, “this is what love feels like, hmph remember that.” Jin growled fucking into you barely able to keep a pace.

Your vision blurred, slurring was your only form of speaking back, covered in piss and cum, tears and snot. Drooling all over yourself like an imbecile, bleeding. They’ve used you out, good for nothing you fell into the void of unconsciousness, sweet relief.

A dull jabbing welcomed you back into the real world, no way was this some sort of  twisted dream the disgusting smell registered back into your senses. The smell was you. “Fucking hell Jungkook finish already.” You’d been sick all over the mattress in your sleep, your mouth stale and stiff.

“I’m so sorry y/n I’m so sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry!” Blinking you looked over your shoulder, tears streamed his rounded face. “Ugh so sorry.” He gagged looking at your abused figure covered in bodily grime. “P-please turn around so it can be over.” Pitying you he held his head down shamefully thrusting to unwanted orgasm. He too filled you warmly pulling out quickly, scurrying to the corner losing his breakfast. “H-hy-'' he retched again. “Let’s go please, let’s leave.” He begged holding his stomach, Jungkook is still your friend, right? You could see he didn’t want to hurt you...

They put their clothes back on lazily.

“Be a peach and tell your mother we’ll be back next month on the dot, hopefully you won’t have to cover her tab two visits in a row huh sweetheart?”

“I hate you, all of you.”

“Ah, but we love you, and we always will.”

(Not my photo)

(Please interact like•reblog•reply it helps sm!)

@minshookie

#bts smut #bts angst #bts reactions #bts scenarios #bts yandere #dark!bts #jungkook #yandere bts #min yoongi #jimin #dark!joon #dark!bts x you #dark fic #yoongi noncon #taehyung smut #taehyung noncon #bts x you #dark!hoseok #dark!jin #dark jjk #mafia!joon #mafia!yoongi #mafia!namjoon #mafia!bts #mafia!taehyung #jungkook smut #Bts smut #Bts kink #yandere masterlist

[dangercocktail]

Ranger Danger

The vibrational dance of Noah’s cell phone dragged him away from the horror movie splaying blood across his television. As a young starlet screamed and ran with poor coordination through the woods, Noah scanned the stream of incoming texts. 

“Damn,” he muttered, running a hand over his dark hair. The incoming texts were from work. As his supervisor implored Noah’s help, he discerned they needed him to come in even though he was off duty. Some sort of mild emergency that he couldn’t quite put together. Glancing at his phone’s clock, he read that it was a little after midnight. He quickly replied ‘be there soon’, flipped off the movie, and headed into his bedroom.

Noah slipped off his gym shorts and quickly dressed in the forest ranger uniform all his coworkers wore. He gave himself a routine glance in the mirror to finish buttoning his shirt. Noah filled out his uniform with a lean beefiness acquired from miles of hiking and lifting fallen trees, his sizable biceps straining the short sleeve cuffs of his shirt. With his striking brown complexion, easy smile, and muscles, Noah was a handsome representation of the Forestry Department, frequently called in to give tours to visiting government officials or bored tour groups of sexually frustrated housewives. He always maintained a calm demeanor in the most straining of circumstances, deftly handling questions with charm. He assumed the ‘emergency’ he was needed for now was something that required his level headed thinking. Weaving his belt into the buckle of his trim waist and grabbing his hat, he headed out to his Jeep.

As Noah drove into the darker recesses of the woods where his ranger station was located, he lowered the windows on his Jeep to take in the bracing smell of pine trees and cool night air. He inhaled deeply. He loved these woods. Having worked as a ranger now for almost five years, he felt at home in this forest, having hiked its expansive trails many times over.

Pulling up to Ranger Station #04, Noah saw his District Ranger standing in the soft yellow light of the station doorway waiting for him. Taking the only remaining parking spot next to the station, Noah observed that Ben and Daniel were on duty tonight, their cars parked next to the DR’s own Ranger Jeep. 

“Hey Jim,” Noah said, lifting a hand in acknowledgment as he approached the station. “How’s it going? You were slightly ambiguous in your texts...what’s going on?”

“Hey Noah, thanks for coming on such short notice,” Jim said, his smile tired but friendly. Jim was middle aged and handsome, having served in the military for several years before leaving service for a position in the Forestry Department. His body was slightly thicker than Noah’s in the middle due to Jim’s fondness for doughnuts but the small rounded softness there was offset by thick arms that easily heaved many forest obstacles.

“Ben and Daniel missed their last two audio checks so I drove over to check the station,” Jim explained, walking with Noah into the small station. He gestured to the radio log. “Last I heard from them was at nine thirty, then radio silence.”

Noah raised an eyebrow but only slightly. This wasn’t a big emergency, the guys were probably taking their time on their latest rounds. Ben and Daniel were known for getting high on these late night shifts, then strolling deep into the woods observing the enhanced beauty of the stars.

“Where’s their observation log?” Noah said, shuffling a few of the scattered papers on the desk to the side.

“Here,” Jim said, handing a clipboard to Noah. Noah flipped through a few of the sheets before reading the top page. Ben and Daniel had logged every hourly observation walk up until 10 pm. The last two spots for the day, the eleven and midnight observation, were conspicuously blank. Still, Noah wasn’t alarmed.

“They’re probably sitting under a tree marveling at the Big Dipper,” Noah said with a smile at Jim, looking up from the clipboard. He handed it back to Jim who set it on the desk.

“You’re not wrong but let’s follow protocol and run our own observation. Shouldn’t be too hard to find these two” Jim said, adding a new sheet to the clipboard. “I apologize for making you come out here but safety first right? Two man teams always”.

Jim scribbled the time, his rank, and initials in the one o’clock slot then handed it over to Noah for his own initials. Both of them grabbed a flashlight and radio, locked the station door, and headed out into the woods, following the well worn starter path every ranger had trod day in and out.

The night air settled around the two rangers in a cool mist as fallen pine needles crunched underneath their boots. They made small chatter occasionally but mostly remained quiet, something Noah appreciated about Jim. They both enjoyed the quiet of the forest, preferring the majesty of their surroundings to the noise most humans make to fill the air.

Nearly halfway through their observational walk with no sign of other rangers, Noah stopped and looked closely at a break in the trail. The trampled and well worn path of the trail continued on but to the right, the undergrowth was disturbed. Pointing it out to Jim, the two concurred that this was a recent disturbance of the forest and most likely Ben and Daniel had veered off trail, high and looking for a place to watch stars. Picking their way through the flora, the two rangers followed the new trail.

Despite the circumstances, Noah was enjoying the walk into this new part of the forest. It was rare for the rangers to disturb parts of the forest beyond the trail without good cause. Finding Ben and Daniel was sufficient cause enough to walk in these uncharted paths and Noah took in his surroundings with a slight feeling of contentment and awe. The forest really was beautiful.

The upended pine needle path continued for some time, Noah estimating nearly fifteen minutes since they had veered from the main trail. He was starting to feel slightly concerned and opened his mouth to say something to Jim when he heard a sharp slapping sound. Glancing over, he saw Jim removing his left hand from his right arm.

“God damn mosquito,” Jim uttered, wiping the remains of the crumpled creature onto his pants. 

“Yea, consistently the worst thing out he-...” Noah started saying then cocked his ear as his sentence dropped off.

“Do you hear that?” he asked Jim, tilting his head further. Jim froze in place and listened as well. Somewhere in front of them, not too far, there was a low rumbling noise. It sounded almost guttural to Noah, like water pouring from a giant jug.

Putting a finger to his lips to keep silent, Noah began carefully walking forward with Jim right behind him. The noise grew slightly louder with each step they took until suddenly, it stopped. They stopped in their tracks. Noah cocked an eyebrow at Jim and motioned with a questioning gesture of his hand, “keep going?”

Jim nodded and the two men pressed forward through the darkness of the forest and bush. Noah noted in a corner of his mind that he had never been to this part of the forest on any of his inquiries or observations; the wood seemed completely untouched by humans save for the newly beaten down path they were following. Jim stopped for a moment and appeared to be fidgeting with his belt but at Noah’s curious look, he waved them forward and they continued. Eventually they reached a small clearing by a pond that immediately struck Noah with its serene natural splendor. However as they stepped out into the clearing, they both heard and saw them at the same time. It took Noah a beat to fully comprehend what he was looking at. 

Near the edge of the pond lay a blanket and small radio, still playing the local college station. On either side of the blanket were two enormous spheres of flesh, completely naked and wobbling slightly as Jim and Noah approached. 

“What the fuck…” Noah said as he approached the shapes slowly, observing them not moving from their spot but jiggling and shaking in place.

“Oh shit, it’s fucking Ben and Daniel,” Jim uttered as he drew closest to the quivering shape on the right. Noah’s face took on incredulity as he drew close to the left. The flesh colored ball was indeed a man but blown up to enormous proportions. His legs and feet hovered almost a foot off the ground from the immensity of his ass, Noah judging it to be almost eight feet wide. The legs themselves were encased in roll after roll of fat to the point that Noah couldn’t discern where the knees might have been, the feet themselves swollen almost unrecognizable and sinking into the fat above them. Moving his eyes up, Noah took in a belly that covered half of the fattened legs and spread out in all directions, matching the width of that enormous ass, with a belly button itself six inches wide and receding darkly into the piles of belly fat. 

Two enormous breasts sat atop the behemoth of a belly, swollen and perky like two plastic grocery bags filled with pudding. They shook slightly in the night air as Noah observed the entire body jiggle, then suddenly swell out a little more. The feet at the bottom of this mass had almost disappeared. Two arms lay to the side of the massive torso, seemingly stuck and disappearing into the expanding rolls of fat as well. As his eyes traveled finally up to the face, Noah saw the faint hint of the face that used to be Ben. His neck had ceased to exist as roll after roll of fat took up the space above his breasts and connected with his cheeks. Ben’s cheeks had become intensely rosy, swollen to a state that it looked like he had a baseball in each.

Noah saw Ben glance down at him and begin to grunt, uttering something that Noah couldn’t make out. 

“Ben, what the fuck happened…” Noah said in shock, recalling the two fit men who he had joked with a week ago in passing shifts. This quivering mass of fat was at least eight times fatter than Ben had been.

“Moosh..” Ben uttered, slurping and trying to enunciate with his fat forced pouty lips. 

“Moosh!” he forcefully said, his eyes darting wildly as that rumbling Noah had heard before in the woods sounded. It was coming from Ben’s belly. Glancing over quickly at Jim and Daniel, he saw Daniel’s belly start jiggling then begin swelling in all directions. The man was expanding massively. His arms and legs disappeared into the expansive fat of his belly, leaving him almost completely ball-shaped. He was nearly nine feet around, with only hands and feet still visible on his appendages. His breasts, the same size as Ben’s, inflated as they jiggled, nearing the size of basketballs.

Noah looked back to Ben, absentmindedly slapping the back of his neck as an insect bit him. The now almost unrecognizable ball of fat that was Ben was going wild eyed, trying in vain to shout something, his lips forced even more open from the recent gains to his cheeks.

“Msssh!” he sputtered, his whole body quivering. 

“I can’t understand you..what the hell happened here Ben?” Noah asked in horror, then turned sharply when he heard Jim cry out.

Jim stood next to the enormous ball that was Daniel, holding his stomach and looking down in shock.

“Jim, what’s wrong?” Noah yelled, beginning to walk over. 

“I..don’t...know…” Jim uttered, right before the first button on his ranger uniform popped off. It was quickly followed in succession by a second and third button as Jim’s dough middle rapidly swole into a beach ball shape. His love handles quickly expanded to the sides as his chest developed two breast shaped mounds. His cheeks fattened and a double chin wobbled into place as Noah heard Jim’s pants rip as his ass followed suit. In the matter of thirty seconds, Jim suddenly looked to be over three hundred pounds.

“Oh fuck, Noah, it’s happening to me!”  Jim yelled, waddling slightly over to where Noah stood. 

“The hell is happening here?” Noah exclaimed, his eyes shooting from the fat man in front of him to the unrecognizable blobs of men to his side. The rumbling noise came back then, but this time, it started with Jim. Jim’s eyes went wide as he clutched with chubby fingers at the fattened sphere now occupying his front. The noise rose exponentially as it began coming from Ben and Daniel as well. Noah watched as Jim’s belly began growing again, pounds and pounds of fat piling on in waves. Jim began waving his arms in shock as his entire body inflated and began to take on a generally round shape, his feet slowly slipping on the wet grass of the clearing until he fell with a thud onto his immensely fattened ass. Noah observed him begin rising in the air as the fat continued to grow and Jim began to become another ball.

Ben and Daniel themselves had also grown more, their faces beginning to sink into the sheer mass of their rolls of fat. Ben was still trying to tell Noah something but it was just sputtering noises at this point. Noah backed away from the insane scene like he had observed something otherworldly, his eyes wide and his feet stumbling occasionally. A pit in his stomach had developed which he attributed to terror but as he turned to begin running, something brought him up short. A small popping sound rang through the air as he tried to run and he felt something heavy bounce on the front of his body. Looking down, he cried as watched his own midsection, now the size of a fleshy basketball, wobble and grow double in size. 

“No…” Noah uttered, stumbled a bit as his chest began to swell. He looked back to Jim who now was completely naked and becoming fully ball shaped.

“No!” Noah yelled, as he heard the rumbling begin again in Ben, Daniel, and Jim’s bellies. He grasped at his shirt as it fully ripped open, then felt his fingers clutch his doughy middle when he heard the rumbling start in his own belly. Turning to face the other fattened spheres that were once rangers, Noah felt his entire body begin jiggling then quickly begin to grow…

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Serenade (Daniela Dimitrescu/Reader) Pt. 11

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T for language Warnings: Nope! Notes: Here we are, a breath away from the end. This features not one, but FOUR songs written by myself. If you only choose to listen to one of them, listen to the final one (Cradle of Heaven), as it is a duet I wrote specifically for this fanfiction, as something that the reader wrote to play together with Daniela. The links to these songs will be within the fanfiction itself, at relevant times. Past Chapters: Pt. 1: Nocturne, Pt. 2: Overture, Pt. 3: Accelerando, Pt. 4: Toccata, Pt. 5: Poco a Poco, Pt. 6: Elegy, Pt. 7: Harmony, Pt. 8: Obbligato, Pt. 9: Berceuse, Pt. 10b: Hymn AMAB

Chapter 11: Cadence

(Cadence: Two chords that mark the end of a song)

The stage is set, the lights are dimmed, your heart pounds within your chest, and the world is yours. Soon, it will be Daniela’s. She is right by your side, as ever, hand gently taking hold of your own. There’s a silent reassurance in her grip, a reminder that the two of you have overcome a plethora of challenges. A promise that this will be no different. Both of you take a deep breath, in sync, before exchanging a quick kiss. All of your hard work has been leading up to the coming moments. Although you are beyond confident in your lover’s abilities, there is a shadow of doubt in the back of your mind. Not for her sake, but surrounding the expectations held by her mother, the standard against which you would be measured.

“Come hell or high water, Songbird, I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise,” Daniela whispers, squeezing your hand again, eyes unblinking as they stare into yours. “You’ve made every right choice, worked harder than anyone I know, and there is nothing more I can ask of you… except another kiss to celebrate afterwards, that is.” Giggling in response gives you the moment you need to relax, nerves fading into the background of your mind. “Now let’s put on a show the likes of which my mother has never seen, mhmm?”

THREE HOURS EARLIER:

“Here, you can borrow my brooch. It’s been in the family for generations, since before we even came to the village, passed down starting with an ancestor who crafted it himself, from materials he scavenged while fleeing his home country,” Daphne rambles, helping you attach the jewelry to your shirt. Thankfully, her hands do not tremble nearly as much as yours have been for the past hour. “I’m more than sure that Lady Daniela will tell you this much, but I feel the need to repeat just how good you look right now. I don’t know where the hell they’ve been hiding this version of our uniform, but damn do I wish I could get one for my next date with Ygritte. Seriously, if you can get one in my size, please do me that favor.”

“Anything for my best friend. Especially after all the times you’ve saved my ass these past few months,” you reply, pausing to give her shoulder an affectionate pat. If not for her constant interference running, someone would have certainly found out about your relationship with Daniela. “Speaking of that… of my life being on the line, I mean… no matter what happens today, no matter what Lady Dimitrescu decides, take care of yourself. You’ve gambled with your own blood to keep me safe, but what I’ve done, what I’ve risked, those were my choices. My consequences. The last thing I’d ever want is for you to pay for them, somehow.”

Rolling her eyes, Daphne gives you a playful shove to the chest, before smoothing out the fabric of your dress uniform. Now she refuses to meet your gaze, a familiar mistiness taking over her brown eyes.

“Nobody around here is stupid enough to think you’ll die today. You managed to get Lady Daniela, of all people, to stay focused long enough to learn some absolutely beautiful pieces of music. You have proved, time and time again, that you are a talented musician, teacher, and ‘servant’. So get out there and kick some metaphorical ass, my friend, because you are ready,” she finally says, offering you what seems to be a handshake. But as soon as your hand meets hers, she’s pulling you in for a hug, holding you tight for a solid minute. When at last you part, you give her what may very well be the last smile she’d ever see gracing your lips.

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

A hand’s edge against xer forehead, parallel to the ground, kept perfectly flat. From anyone else, it would be mockery. From xer? Honest salute, solidarity in a traditional form, accompanied by a sharp-toothed grin. Mimicking the expression, you wave at Ava, glad to see that xe would be awake for your concert. After your first night with your girlfriend, Daphne had helped arrange for someone to be your “cover story” for sleeping outside of your usual quarters. With Daniela’s input (and jealousy), only one candidate had revealed themselves, in the form of a (conveniently) mute butler with an inconsistent schedule, love of mischief, and somehow the respect of the Dimitrescu family. Now, xe appeared ready to escort you to the location of your trial by fire.

“Are you sure our mutual friend won’t be upset to see the two of us together?” You teased, knowing full well that Ava was one of the only people that Daniela trusted 100% around you. In response, xe gives an exaggerated shrug, then quickly links xer arm with your own. Together you march onwards to your destiny, amused by the way xe practically skipped down the hallway. Maybe there was a certain wisdom to xer shenanigans, a carefree philosophy that encouraged laughter in the face of death, and you embraced the thought with a smile.

Before long, however, the two of you encounter another unlikely pair headed towards the same destination: Lady Cassandra, looking somewhat embarrassed, with an unfamiliar maiden at her side. Their hands are clutching each other desperately, although neither of them dares to look at the other. Instead they both watch you closely from where they’ve paused in the corridor. Oddly unfazed, Ava gives them a short bow of acknowledgement, earning xer a brief nod from Cassandra. Seeming eager to move on, she addresses you quickly before gesturing for you to keep walking.

“Good luck. Don’t fuck this up for Daniela, or I’ll never hear the end of it,” she growls, doing her best to downplay her obvious concern. Wanting to let her keep up with her facade, you merely give a nod as you resume walking towards the concert stage. Soft footsteps behind you let you know that the strange pair are accompanying you. Still walking alongside you, Ava repeatedly glances behind you, putting out xer hands in the shape of a heart, giggling all the while. If you didn’t know any better, you would almost assume that xe wanted to get hit by Cassandra.

“Ava, please calm down. If you’re not careful, she’ll throw something at you. If she does that, you’ll probably dodge, and then I’ll probably end up getting hit, and then I’ll miss the concert, Lady Dimitrescu will kill me as punishment, Daniela will be sad and whiny about it, and none of you will have any peace for, like, a month. Three weeks, bare mims,” you tease, nudging xer in the ribs. Emphasizing a pout, xe sends one last look at Cassandra and her ‘friend’ (whose hand she was still holding onto like a lifeline), mouthing words you couldn’t parse. Based on the way Cassandra groans, it was something ridiculously cheesy. Regardless, xe behaves the rest of the way there…

ONE MINUTE TO SHOWTIME:

“I love you, Firefly, and I know that you’re going to do absolutely amazing out there. I’m so proud of you,” you murmur, pressing a feather-light kiss to Daniela’s cheek. As dearly as you wish to stay behind the curtain, in her arms, you know that the show was inevitable. With one last nod to your beloved, you part the fabric shielding you, stepping into the spotlight. Imaginary crowds grow hushed at your appearance, a sea of faces greeting you warmly. In truth, there are but five members in this audience, each gazing upon you with veiled interest. Donning you best presentation persona, you set this final act in motion. “Lady Dimitrescu, Lady Cassandra, Lady Bela, and Mx. Caldwell, it brings me great pleasure to present to you, on this day, a concert performed by your own Lady Daniela. For three months now I have acted as her instructor, and these three months have been, perhaps, the most rewarding of my entire life. I could not possibly be any more proud of her than I already am. Now, without further ado… let us begin!”

Stepping to the side, a tug of a rope has the curtains parting entirely, revealing your beloved, waiting ready at the piano. All at once your audience (including Cassandra’s partner, acting as a mere servant in the background) sits up with wide smiles. They look Daniela over, taking in the sight of her fanciest dress, and the way her eyes light up with joy. By the time her fingers begin dancing away at the keys, there is not a single ounce of anxiety in your entire soul. This first song is a relic from your past, a representation of an abandoned idea, yet she plays it like a celebration. It’s fast, hits hard, a bold take right out of the gate. Admittedly, it is also somewhat short. Nonetheless, it serves its purpose, igniting a spark of excitement in those present. Once the song ends, Daniela is surprised by the intensity of her family’s applause. In the back of her mind, she trembles with excitement, knowing that the best was yet to come.

Riding this wave of pride, she immediately settles into the next song, something slower but far grander. Affection thrums inside your chest as you watch your pupil perfectly execute another piece. You can only imagine what her mother must be feeling, to see just how far her daughter has come in such a short amount of time. A quick glance in Alcina’s direction reveals the barest hints towards her being impressed. For now that was enough to satisfy you. Soon enough her face would twist in surprise, as the second song ended, and a new face steps up onto the stage: Lady Bela. Wordlessly she retrieves her violin from the back of the stage, then turns to the front with a mischievous smile.

“Now, a duet! Presenting the ever-talented Lady Bela, to join Lady Daniela for a rendition of an original song, dubbed ‘Northern Lights’. Enjoy!” You call out, before once more taking your place at the side. While Daniela did not need you to count her in for her solo performances, this feels ever so slightly more important, and as such you do your best to conduct for the duration of the song. If either of the performers need it, they hide it well. Honestly, you weren’t sure if your girlfriend had looked your way even a single time so far. ‘Twas incredible to witness her. Akin to a siren, near glowing, taking to the stage as if born to grace its center. Even with Bela working her own magic, Daniela is ever the star. Together they weave a lovely song, notes rising high into the air, swirling around an enchanted audience.

When it ends, both performers give a bow, as if the entire affair had come to a close. Without hinting at what was to come, you switch places with the eldest Dimitrescu daughter. A deep breath rattles your ribcage as you find your center, reaching out to take Daniela’s hand, the two of you raising your arms upward in a display of union. For the first time this evening, Lady Alcina narrows her eyes in what feels like disapproval. But you pay her no mind. Instead you sit alongside your beloved, quietly settling into your practiced position.

There is no introduction for this song. No announcement, no showmanship, nor even a countdown into the symphony. Simply, like exhaling a breath, the two of you start to play. Your phrases echo hers, and vice versa, calling and answering, accompanying all the while, natural as anything holy in the wild. ‘Tis the second shortest song of the night, only long enough to showcase the degree of your partnership with Daniela. As the song crescendos into an ending, you manage to meet the gaze of your employer. Perhaps it is merely an illusion of hope, or a reflection of lights above, but you swear you see tears in her eyes.

“Outstanding, incredible,” she praises, rising to her feet alongside her other daughters, clapping all the while. Once again you rise to your feet, hand clasped with Daniela’s, bowing as deeply as you can manage. Before you can even process what’s happening, your girlfriend is being pulled away from you, swept up into the arms of her mother. Desperation digs like a knife into your heart, as you ache to celebrate with her, but you remain ever in the guise of a professional. “You did amazing, my dear. I cannot begin to describe how proud I am.” The family gathers around each other, buzzing with affection fit to make the hardest of hearts melt. You are left on the outside, awkwardly waiting, without a hint of acknowledgment.

Even if this concert was a measure of your skill as a teacher, Lady Dimitrescu had never bothered to consider you more than another servant. This night was about Daniela. About your secret girlfriend, the brightest star in all the skies. That is not something that bothers you, nor does it surprise you. All that makes you wish to weep is the desire to kiss her. To sweep her into your arms, with celebratory kisses, singing her name as a praise to higher powers. In the end, it takes several minutes for Daniela to pull away enough to move back to you, and even then she cannot give you the reaction she yearns for.

“I’ll come by to talk to you tonight, I promise,” she whispers, as she gives you the weakest hug you have ever felt. Then she is returning to her family, clinging to her mother with a massive grin. Soon enough you are left alone on stage, quiet surrounding you, mixed feelings gnawing at the pit of your stomach. Something feels… wrong. You cannot put a name to it. No one has hinted to you what your beloved has planned, for none but her even have a clue. As soon as she is alone with her mother, as soon as she has the smallest sliver of an opportunity, she knows what she must do. “Mother… we need to talk. I... I have a confession to make.”

#daniela dimitrescu x reader #daniela dimitrescu #resident evil: village #re8 village #avaskian caldwell #cliffhanger #sorry folks #not beta read

[alinastracker]

for the prompt thing: 62 or 69 <3

you got it bb <3

prompt: I wanted to tell you that I liked you before prom but chickened out and now we’re about to graduate college and I can’t hold it in any longer

i can’t fight this feeling any longer (and yet i’m still afraid to let it flow)

"Mal, I love you."

Alina frowns, shakes her head, and tries again.

"Mal, you've been my best friend for so long, and I love our friendship, but you see, I'm also head over heels in love with you."

She blows out a frustrated breath, her newly chopped bangs briefly floating off of her forehead. Telling her best friend of nearly six years she’s in love with him should not be the number one thing on her mind right now. It’s graduation day, for Saints sake. A day she hadn’t been sure she would ever see. But all she can think about is Mal.

She had met him on one of the worst days of her life. Alina had been transferred to a new foster home in the middle of her junior year of high school. There were few things worse in adolescent life than moving to a new school in the middle of the year — especially in high school, in a small town where everyone seemed to know each other. 

Alina had walked the halls that day clutching onto the straps of her backpack, late to nearly every class because her sense of direction was shit, and had even gone as far as to eat lunch in the bathroom like a stereotypical teen movie, the thought of walking into the cafeteria with all those eyes on her nearly ruining her appetite entirely. She had been stared at enough as it was. 

Her last class of the day was art, and she was praying for it to be the reprieve she so desperately needed. If only she could fucking find it. The warning bell rang, heightening her already raised anxiety. Alina took a corner too fast and slammed right into a wall. No, not a wall — a boy. 

“I’m so sorry!” she blurted, scrambling to her knees to help pick up the papers she made him drop. 

“All good,” the boy reassured her.

Once the two of them had the papers off the floor, Alina looked up and nearly dropped them again. She was looking into the warm brown eyes of possibly the hottest guy she had ever laid eyes on. He had a strong, defined jaw, grown out hair that wasn’t too shaggy, but still long enough to run her fingers through. And Saints, his lips. She was already imagining what those lips would feel like, subconsciously licking her own. 

One side of the boy’s mouth quirked up, just a hint of a smirk, like he was used to having this effect on people. Shit, had he noticed her staring? Say something, Alina. 

“Um, sorry,” she managed finally, handing him the pile of collected papers. 

He chuckled. “You said that already.”

She tried a laugh of her own, but it came out all wrong, choppy and nervous. “Right.” 

The boy stood to his full height, and for fucks sake, he had to be tall, too? She rose from her knees and he still towered over her. It was extremely attractive. 

“So you’re the new girl,” he said, not a question but a statement. “I’ve heard murmurings about you today.”

“Murmurings?” 

“Nothing bad. It’s just a small town. When someone new shows up, people notice.” He smiled, stuck out his hand. It took everything in her not to think about how long his fingers were. “I’m Mal.”

She took his hand, her own so tiny in comparison. “Alina.”

“Nice to meet you, Alina. Where are you headed?”

“220B? History of Traditional Art.”

Mal nodded. “Well, I can’t say that’s a room I’m super familiar with. I’m a shit artist. These hands are much better for other activities.” Her eyes must have widened, revealing just how filthy her mind was, because he quickly added, “Sports! I meant sports!”

A look passed between them, and then they were both laughing. It felt so good to laugh after the day she’d had. 

“Anyway,” Mal continued, “I can help you find your way. I might not visit the art hall often, but I know my way around.”

Alina shot him another pointed look, and Mal groaned. “My way around the school! Saints, I’m really shooting myself in the foot as far as first impressions go, aren’t I?”

She grinned, but only said, “You’ll be late for class.” The final bell was going to ring any second. 

Mal waved her off. “That’s all right. What poor representation of Stag Spirit would I be if I let the new girl walk around like a lost puppy? And besides,” he shot her a grin to match her own, “we can’t have you running around, terrorizing other kids and their poor papers now, can we?”

Alina let out something between a scoff and a laugh. “I said I was sorry!”

He turned, walking backwards toward the stairs. “Did you? Must have missed it.”

She shot daggers in his direction, but she smiled the whole way to the art room. The next day, she dared to actually step into the cafeteria for lunch. People were still staring, but after yesterday, she expected it. Part of her was hoping she would find Mal in the crowded space, but she doubted it would matter even if she did. After some social media stalking last night, Alina had discovered what she should have known from the start — Mal was popular. He would already have a flock around him, friends he had known since childhood, who were just like him — attractive, athletic, alien to a kid like Alina who preferred quiet cafes and sketchpads to football fields and pompoms. He had been nice to her yesterday, sure, but that didn’t mean—

“Alina!”

Her head popped up, scanning the sea of tables until she saw him, standing and waving her over. Sure enough, Mal was at a table filled with pretty, sociable looking people. But there was a space open next to him, and she realized with a little jump of her heart that he had saved that space for her. 

It was the start of the fastest and fiercest friendship she would ever have. Mal was popular and sporty, yes, but he was also kind, funny, smart — and most surprising, had grown up in the foster care system, too. Alina made friends with his friends, a few of her own from her art class, but none of them matched what she grew with Mal. Suddenly she was a football field kind of girl, dressing from head to toe in school colors for each match, cheering for her best friend so loud she gave the cheer squad a run for their money. Over the next year and half, they were entirely attached at the hip. 

And while it had truly started as a friendship, by the time senior prom came around, Alina had to face the fact: she was head over heels for the boy. Hell, she had noticed how attractive he was from that first fateful meeting. Mix that with how genuinely good she knew he was — how caring, how attentive, how it felt to have his head rest on her shoulder as he fell asleep during a movie; who could blame her for falling for him? 

“You have to tell him!” her friend from art class, Yelena, had insisted. 

“I know, I know.” She sighed. “I’ll do it at prom.”

They were going as a group — her, Mal, Mikhael, Dubrov, Yelena, and a few others from their meshed circle of friends, brought together by the two of them. But Mal had still matched his tie to her dress, a stunning royal blue. Mal had still bought her a corsage — a delicate thing of mostly blue irises, her favorite flower. He was not her date, yet in every way except in name, it felt like he was, and Alina basked in the feeling. 

But as song after song played, Alina found herself backing out each time she tried to approach him. Yelena was shooting pointed looks at her all night, murmuring as she passed her, “You’re running out of time.”

Then a punky pop song came on, one of her and Mal’s favorites. She called him over. “Dance with me!” she exclaimed, and laughed as he all but pulled her onto the dance floor. Neither of them were good dancers, but they were enthusiastic, at least with each other. As the song neared its end, Alina sucked in a breath.

“Mal, I have to tell you something.”

He raised a brow, waiting for her to speak. The song ended, and their principal took to the stage. “All right folks, it’s time to announce your prom king and queen!”

Everyone was cheering and turning to the stage, but Mal was still looking at her, still waiting for her answer.

Alina opened her mouth, closed it, then finally said, “Thank you for the corsage. I really love it.”

Mal gave her a quizzical look, lips tugging down — and was that disappointment in his eyes? Before she could fully read him, his face smoothed, his usual charmed smile returning. “Of course, Lina.” 

“And your prom king is,” the principal was saying, “Malyen Oretsev!”

The crowd roared. Mal’s smile turned sheepish, and he took to the stage to accept his crown. Ruby was named prom queen, to no one’s surprise. Alina watched them dance together in the middle of the room to a romantic song that would now forever be ruined for her. A little later that night, Mal came up to her, said, “You can get a ride home with Yelena, right?” He motioned behind him, flushing a little even as he grinned, to where Ruby was waiting. “I’m gonna head out.”

Alina swallowed the stupid lump in her throat and nodded. Mal pressed a kiss to the top of her head, and then he was gone. She would spend the night at Yelena’s, crying on her shoulder that she had missed her chance — if she’d ever had one to begin with. Because of course Mal would choose Ruby. Beautiful, blond Ruby, much more his equal than Alina could ever be. 

Graduation came, and it was happy. But in all of the pictures and celebrations was Ruby — no longer just captain of the cheer squad Ruby, but Mal’s girlfriend Ruby. She watched them partake in a summer romance that she was guiltily happy to see fizzle out once college came and split them apart. Luckily, her and Mal were off to Os Alta University together, home of the Firebirds. They forged a new friend group there: the twins, Tolya and Tamar, Nadia, David, Genya, Zoya, Nikolai. Mal didn’t really date freshman year, sticking to little flings that Alina told herself didn’t matter. In sophomore year, the tension between him and Zoya finally snapped, and the two of them had a brief . . . something together. 

Of course, Alina had her own dabbles in romance — Alexei being the sweetest, Aleksander nearly making her swear off men all together. Her next two flings were with women, both because she had finally fully accepted her bisexuality and because she truly had lost trust in the male species. She even made out with Nikolai a couple times, but they had both just been using each other. They’d spent one night in a club so obnoxiously all over one another that Zoya had stormed out. Her thing with Mal had been off and on at that point, and the next morning, she texted him that they were off for good. 

Two weeks later, Nikolai and Zoya were dating. Mal was single. 

And still, she hadn’t made a move. 

Alina stares in the mirror now, watching the tassel on her graduation cap sway back and forth. In an hour, she’ll be moving it from the right to the left and leave Os Alta University in the rear window. It hadn’t been easy getting here — nothing is easy for a foster care kid, especially one who wants to be an artist. But she’s done it. She’s graduating with top honors. Saints, she even has a job lined up. Everything she worried about growing up — making a future for herself, being swallowed by the system, figuring out who she is without the guidance of her birth parents — she has faced all of it head on. At every step, she’s run after what she’s wanted and grabbed it by the hands until it was hers.

Everything except Mal. 

And try as she might, she can’t imagine a future without him in it.

He’s not seeing anyone — for now. Last night he texted her, laughing about how Ruby of all people had hit him up. She’s going to be in the city this weekend, apparently, and asked if he wanted to get a drink. It felt like prom all over again.

“Alina, come on!” Genya calls. “We’re going to be late!”

“Coming!” she calls back.

Alina follows Genya and Zoya down to the car, sits numbly in the backseat as they drive to the giant building holding their graduation ceremony. 

“Look alive, Starkov,” Zoya says as they get out of the car, linking their arms. “Today is for happy things. New beginnings.”

Genya takes her other arm. “No pouting about boys unless you’re going to do something about it.”

She smiles, and for a little while, it’s not forced. There’s a rush of excitement as they walk inside and find their seats. Genya isn’t too far off from her, but Zoya’s a few rows ahead. In the rows between them, still too far to talk to but not too far to make out the back of his head, is Mal. He’s talking to the guy next to him, even though she’s pretty sure he doesn’t know him. But that’s Mal, blooming wherever he’s planted.

Alina knows she shouldn’t, but the ceremony hasn’t started yet, so she stands and calls out, “Mal!” 

Somehow, he hears her over all the ruckus around them. The smile he gives her has her heart beating double time. “I’ll find you after!” he shouts back, though of course, she already knew that. Mal always finds her.

As the ceremony starts and a handful of different people come up to make speeches, she finds herself slipping into her thoughts from earlier. In her head, she sees Mal and Ruby, meeting for that drink. They pick up right where they left off. Ruby moves to the city, moves in with Mal. Alina’s there through all of it, supporting Mal like she always has, always will. On the sidelines she stays, watching him as he gets married and has ridiculously beautiful babies. None of it is real, not yet, but the thought is so painful she has tears in her eyes. 

Well, at least she can blame the tears on emotional graduation bullshit as she watches her friends walk the stage, cheering for each of them even though they’re not supposed to. Tamar and Tolya, the latter looking pretty emotional himself. David, who walks quickly even though he’s probably the most awarded student of the whole graduating class. Nikolai, who dramatically presses a kiss to the hand of the Os Alta University President after she hands him his diploma. Zoya, who walks the stage as if she owns it. 

Then Mal’s name is called, and she cheers so loud she’s pretty sure he hears it, if the grin on his face is any indication. Genya crosses, graceful as always. When her own name is called, she’s not expecting much. She has no family here save from the one she forged for herself. But as she walks, she can hear a very distinct cheer from a very distinct voice, and butterflies swarm drunkenly in her stomach. 

In the minutes that pass between her walking the stage and the last name being called — poor Nadia —Alina knows what she’s going to do. No backing out this time.

“Congratulations, Class of 2021!”

Everyone cheers, and graduation caps go flying through the air. Alina tosses hers with everyone else, and then she takes off, pushing through her classmates as they jump and shout, running until she finds the right row, forces herself through the bodies in her way, until she’s in front of him. Until she’s found Mal. 

“Alina,” he says in surprise. “What are you—”

“Don’t get a drink with Ruby.”

Mal frowns. “What?”

“I said don’t get a drink with Ruby!” she says, louder this time.

“I heard you. I’m just confused.” He shakes his head, runs a hand through his hair. “Why shouldn’t I have a drink with Ruby, and why did you run to tell me this right now?”

Because I’ve been in love with you from the first moment I saw you. 

Because I wanted to tell you at prom, but I chickened out. 

Because I’ve watched you kiss other girls for almost six years now, and I can’t stand to just watch any longer.

Alina doesn’t say any of that. Instead, she presses onto her tip toes, takes his face between her hands, and kisses him. 

Mal stiffens, but doesn’t give her time to worry before he relaxes again, pulling her body against his, lifting her so she doesn’t have to stretch so far anymore. All around them are the happy cheers of a group of people at the end of one road stepping onto another. Families in the stands hoot and holler for their children, wipe tears and think, they made it. 

But for Alina, it’s like being in a room where nothing exists except her and Mal, her best friend, her constant, the most important person in her life. She’s kissing him, she’s finally kissing him, and he’s kissing her back as if he’s been waiting for six years to do this, too. Like maybe he’s wanted her all along.

“Alina,” he breathes when their lips part, their foreheads pressed together instead. “Thank the bloody Saints.”

She giggles, actually fucking giggles, like a lovestruck school girl. “I’ve wanted this since prom. Before, even.”

Mal smiles, shakes his head the tiniest bit. “Me too.”

They laugh, so close that they’re breathing each other in. Two idiots, that’s what they are. But there’s no room to groan about what could’ve been sooner, no room to drown in regrets. They are young, and there is only room for joy in knowing they have the rest of their lives to make up for lost time. Starting now. Their lips meet again. Mal is steady and warm against her. He feels like home. It’s everything she’s ever imagined. It’s better. 

Alina can see her future so clearly now, because she knows no matter what comes next, she’ll have Mal beside her to navigate through it.

He is all she’s ever wanted — her forever person, who won’t leave when she’s being unreasonable, who’s love is not conditional. He is all she’ll ever need.  

#malina fanfic #alina starkov #malyen oretsev #fanfic #grishaverse fanfic #writing #mine #this didn't quite turn out how i expected but then again when does anything i write lmao #just some nice sweet malina feat idiots not realizing they love each other and lots of fun pining! #I HOPE U ENJOY ANA MY LOVE #it's 2am why do i keep writing at this hour sksksk #also don't entirely know how i feel about this but it issss what it isssss #maybe one day my writing style will be everything i want it to be

[kumkaniudaku]

Simple Syrup

You asked for Daveed smut and I tried to deliver. At least this one time. Enjoy!

Warning: Sexual Content. 18+. 

Daveed Diggs x Black!OC (Olivia Jenkins)(Yes, the MC/ OC is black. Representation is important.)

"Yo, open up!" Heavy fists beat against the door of Olivia's downtown apartment, making her roll her eyes. "I know you can hear me, girl! It's your favorite pop-up roommate!"

"You've been evicted, Diggs!"  

"I paid you rent, though!"

Turning the stove on low, Olivia shook her head as she wiped her hands on a dishtowel. Daveed always found a way to surprise her with his presence. He never texted before showing up at her door but frequently sported a backpack or suitcase full of clothes or Rafael for an extended stay. He and all his baggage were welcome anytime, with or without notice.

Stepping to the door, Olivia bit back a smile before responding. "I didn't receive any payments this month."

"I got it in my bag."

"Bag or bags?"

"Open the door to find out."

Daveed took a step back as the locks began to turn, waiting for Olivia's face to greet him with faux anger the way she did the last time he showed up out of nowhere and stayed for three weeks. Despite stopping by six months ago, it felt like a lifetime since he'd been in her company. Bi-weekly phone conversations weren't enough. He needed to be near Olivia while she watched whatever Housewives franchise had her attention for the month.

When the door opened to reveal the long hallway leading to her living area, Olivia stood with a hand on her hips and a grin on her face.

"Where is my money," she asked, shifting her weight from foot to foot. Just as she expected, he stood in the hallway with a suitcase that she knew cost a fortune to check at the airport and his worn Jansport full of junk and work.

Daveed laughed and bent to rifle through his backpack for a crumpled white envelope that he handed over with exaggerated purpose. "Here you go, Miss Jenkins. Sorry to be late on rent for, what, 8 months? I hope this is enough."

"Boy, you didn't really need to pay me. You're not on the lease."

"Good," he answered as he pretended to wipe sweat from his brow. "Because those are just Chick Fil A coupons."

Olivia stood with her mouth open as Daveed brushed her to roll his luggage to the first bedroom on the right.

He listened to her insult his "stupid face" and instruct him to hurry up while he scanned the room he had called home more times than he could count. All of Daveed's belongings were in the same place, with almost unnoticeable shifts to show that Olivia had cleaned once or twice. His favorite throw blanket was folded at the edge of the bed with his initials elegantly embroidered in the corner. The air smelled of the vanilla candle she kept on the nightstand next to a framed photo of the crew enjoying a roller coaster at Six Flags. His favorite trinket, Olivia's homecoming crown from undergrad, sat next to a single gold medal from Daveed's days competing in track and field. To him, it symbolized their bond from the beginning. To her, it was probably just a space to hide old items.

"Daveed, get in here! I need you to cut!"

All at once, Daveed's sense of self returned to center him in reality. He quickly kicked off his shoes once he remembered Olivia's rules and started off toward the kitchen to answer the call for his help.

Even with the windows open, he could smell savory and sweet aromas combining for a smell that reminded him of the holidays. However, the calendar placed them square in the middle of an excruciatingly hot summer. He could see the open bottle of BBQ sauce on the center island next to a mixing bowl full of things he couldn't recognize but knew they would taste great. Bushels of greens sat in a pot on the stove, boiling amid smoked meat and seasonings to complement the food cooking in the oven. Daveed felt excitement take hold of his face and forced the apples of his cheeks up toward his eyes. Olivia looked up from her task at the cutting board and smirked.

"I thought you were vegan now."

"My business is my business, Liv. We talked about this last week."

"We also talked about you heading directly to Toronto after your job in Atlanta and, yet, here you are." She studied Daveed's face for answers but found nothing but a growing smile. "Come over here and cut up these strawberries while I sauce the ribs."

Daveed followed directions without complaint, lazily strolling to the island and nudging Olivia away. He'd been her help in the kitchen before to open pesky jars or stir while she tended to the more time-intensive parts of the meal. On more than one occasion, he had fucked up, and each time she invited him back into her safe space with open arms.

"How's Rafa and the family," Olivia asked with her back turned while she bent to take a peek into the oven.

Daveed kept his eyes on her backside for a moment too long before answering. "Rafa's good. Amy sends her love and says that you are more than welcome for Friendsgiving this year. She volunteered you for pies."

"You volunteered me for pies, Daveed," Olivia corrected, knowing how much her friend loved her desserts. "What about my babies? Is Santiago the best big brother to Emelia?"

"He's...trying. But he did send a gift for the lady with the bald head. His words, not mine."

Olivia ran a hand across her tapered fade and chuckled. "I feel like he heard Rafael say that."

"No, Rafa calls you Thick Mr. Clean."

"Yeah, because that's what you said when you were drunk on New Years," Olivia accused as she gestured toward the cabinet housing her wine glasses. Daveed nodded before answering.

"I said it with love!"

"Mhmm, I'm sure."

Together they watched half a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc be transferred into the separate glasses, waiting for the moment they could take a sip. The last time they shared a drink, they ran through two 12- packs of beer with Rafael and ended up dancing with street performers in Times Square. She hadn't been able to stomach the smell of a Budweiser since then and fully transitioned to fruity notes and sparkling Rosé with Daveed occasionally coming along for the ride.

Taking another long sip from his glass, Daveed leaned against the island counter to watch Olivia stir a mixture for skillet cornbread.

"What's got you so stressed?"

Olivia shrugged but didn't look away from the bowl. "Nothing. I'm fine."

"The last time you cooked like this, you were writing your dissertation. And the time before that, it was your mom."

The room fell quiet outside of the spoon, ricocheting off the sides of the mixing bowl. After several seconds, Olivia took a deep breath and looked up at Daveed.

"Daddy's getting remarried. Omari and I are his best-kids," she laughed. "I'm not stressed. Just a bit...sad, I guess?"

Daveed understood the issue without needing more context. Five years ago, he was the one sitting beside Olivia on the floor of her brother's home office after the news came that their mother had in the hospital. He was there for the saddest funeral he'd ever experienced and the months of reconciliation that the family struggled through on the way to some sense of normalcy. The idea that her father had found love again was heartwarming, but Daveed knew the occasion was bringing up old feelings.

"Wanna talk about it?"

She shrugged again and moved the skillet to the oven. "There's nothing to talk about. I said I'm fine. I wish she was here, ya know, but I know she isn't upset. She always told us to move on once she's gone. She sure as hell would."

Daveed chuckled at the idea of Mrs. Jenkin's moving on in the afterlife. "She was funny like that. I remember when she met me for the first time and kept calling me Devante."

"Yes," Olvia exclaimed, a spark of joy returning to her eyes. "She'd call me and be like, that boy Devante is smart! Ask him if he can put me in a movie one day!"

Olivia's voice warped to imitate her mother as best as possible before she burst into laughter with Daveed.

"One of the last things she said to me was that I need to make sure you keep having fun. She didn't want you to stop enjoying life on account of her."

"Yeah…" Daveed watched Olivia down the wine in her glass with her eyes closed, waiting for her to continue her thought. "Well, you're doing a good job. We could work on your definition of fun, but solid effort so far."

"How can I do better? I'm open to criticism."  

Daveed kept his eyes on Olivia while he reached across her body to grab the wine bottle for the final drink. Her breath hitched while alcohol buzzed through her system, creating the perfect storm for sudden arousal. She fought her thoughts by shaking her head to recover.

"You can start by grabbing those strawberries and bringing them over to the stove."

"Don't skip the question." Daveed's smirk as he followed her to the other side of the counter made Oliva hot with embarrassment, but she kept a calm exterior. "Are you still having fun with me?"

"I always have fun with you, D, you know that. Who else is gonna play Bop It with me at 2 AM on a Wednesday? The question is, are you still having fun with me, superstar?"

"Don't start that. I come and stay at your house because I miss you, not because I can't find somewhere else to sleep. You're my person."

"For now," Olivia added as a rebuttal, ignoring the way her stomach flipped at hearing the way Daveed felt. "What happens when you get married? You're gonna have to go be a family man like Rafa. Then we'll only see each other on Friendsgiving and Christmas."

"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it."

"Hm." Olivia's short but skeptical laugh effectively ended the conversation. Still, Daveed had already made up his mind to return to the discussion later in the week. "So, how long are you here this time?"

Daveed used one of his large palms to push a few curls off his forehead in search of relief from the heat in the kitchen. "I was thinking a couple weeks. Three or four."

"That's longer than normal! I get to have my favorite guy here long enough to help me put wallpaper up in the guest bathroom?"

"Am I only muscle to you?"

"Of course, not," she answered with a sweet smile, making Daveed mirror her expression. "You're also a taste tester. Open up."

Before Daveed could object, Olivia swiped barbecue sauce across his bottom lip for his opinion. The tip of his tongue appeared to taste the tangy brown sauce, finding an explosion of flavor that reminded him how much he missed Olivia's cooking.

"What's the verdict," Olivia asked over her shoulder as she turned off the eye under her simple syrup mixture.

"Tangy and sweet. I'm not sure why you don't bottle this up for sale. My dad would love some."

"Meh, I like having it as a treat for the people I love. All my hobbies aren't for profit, my friend."

Daveed dramatically threw a hand across his chest and gasped. "Did Mean Ole Liv just imply that she loves me? I-I'm gobsmacked. Utterly shocked and eternally grateful."

"Diggs, you're pushing it," she laughed. "Come taste this syrup before I start on the lemonade."

From experience, Daveed knew what to expect. But he humored Olivia anyway if only to see pride light up her face when he told her how amazing the sweet mixture tasted. After washing his hands in the sink, he skimmed his middle and pointer fingers across the top of the syrup to pick up enough to coat his fingertips.

He eyed the liquid for a moment, watching it slowly trickle down the side of his long fingers while he thought of his next move. Olivia stood at the refrigerator with her back turned, humming a song from The Wiz. At the same time, she gathered ingredients for the beverage.

"Hey...hey, Liv." Daveed had already started to close the short gap between them and stood waiting for Olivia to respond to his call.

"Wha -" A sudden swipe of syrup across her bottom lip confused Olivia. "D, what is your problem?"

Stepping forward, Daveed took her chin in his to bring their lips inches apart. "Is it still cool if I taste?"

Olivia stared at Daveed without blinking, fighting her brain for a competent answer to his question. Instead, she nodded in a daze with her jaw slack. His fingers took gentle meandering paths across the peaks and valleys of her face before using his thumb to part her lips.

Daveed's first kiss was a tentative peck to test the waters. When he received no resistance, he pulled Olivia closer for full access to her mouth.

Neither of them expected to fall into the kiss so easily. Olivia didn't expect to melt into Daveed's body while he dictated the pace and intensity. Daveed didn't expect to feel an overwhelming desire to consume the one person that always felt so close but far away. He wanted to feel and taste every part of Olivia while he had the green light. She reveled in Daveed's attention, even if it was only for a moment.

Taking a step backward, Daveed used his knowledge of the kitchen to guide them back toward the stove. Their lips remained connected to taste the last bits of each other. Olivia was the first to break the lip lock and move her head upward, directing Daveed to choose a spot on her neck to explore.

The cold, sticky simple syrup came next, the thick glob landing on the center of her chest and sliding to her cleavage.

"I've thought about this a lot," Daveed spoke barely above a whisper as he used a finger to spread simple syrup across Olivia's chest. "Kinda wild to say, but I have."

"How long?"

"A year. Maybe two."

Olivia released a shaky gasp once Daveed's tongue began licking from the space between her breast to the base of her neck to catch the simple syrup. As quickly as it disappeared, he replaced the sugar mixture with another round at the juncture of her neck and shoulder. He groaned as the tart strawberry flavor mixed with the sweetness of the sugar and Olivia's skin. She grasped the back of his head for stability, allowing her eyes to flutter closed for a few seconds.

"How does it turn out? In your thoughts, I mean?"

Daveed paused to kiss Olivia's lips again and run his hands down her back. "Doesn't matter. We're here now, and I can't think of anything outside of how good you taste drenched in strawberry sauce."

"Simple syrup," Olivia answered, smiling as she sneakily dipped her finger into the pot behind Daveed. "It's simple syrup, and I haven't gotten a taste yet. Open your mouth."

They kept their eyes on each other while Daveed opened his mouth, waiting for whatever came next. Olivia took her time to coat his tongue in syrup, imagining how it would feel to experience the concoction from his mouth.

There started the mad scramble to get closer, taste more and touch longer. Separate but equal desires to completely consume the other person had the pair maneuvering around the kitchen. They remained attached at the lips until they reached the solid wood breakfast table near the large casement window. Daveed was the first to remove clothing, pulling his t-shirt over his head and tossing it somewhere behind him. A split-second decision had him rushing back to the stove to retrieve the syrup pot. He carefully placed it on the table while Olivia slid the straps of her summer dress down her arms to let the fabric pool at her waist. Daveed watched with a flirtatious smile, marveling at the expanse of her warm brown skin. Olivia returned the sentiment, letting her eyes rake over his broad chest and toned midsection.

One after the other, Daveed and Olivia added bits of syrup to different body parts to lick and suck the skin clean. A handful mistakenly dripped onto Olivia's thigh, and they watched the sticky liquid carry small chunks of strawberries to the inner portion of her leg.

Daveed regarded the sight with wonder before carefully dropping to one knee for a better look. He maintained eye contact with Olivia as he kissed his way to the sweetest spot, lingering in places that earned the most desirable response. The scratch of facial hair combined with his lips and tongue's soft, silkiness made Olivia keen for more. She could feel the blood rushing to pool at her inner thigh for a bruise that would leave evidence of a dream achieved. She smiled at the thought of seeing it when she was getting dressed and how her stomach might feel with butterflies from the memories.

Daveed mumbled praise after praise into the supple skin of Olivia's thigh before starting a journey back to her lips. When he returned, he slowly pushed the waistband of his sweats down his hips and legs.

"Oh," Olivia spoke, eyes wide while she fought the natural desire to let her gaze travel. "I...wow, okay. I feel like I'm violating you."

"I'm kind of asking you to," Daveed laughed as he stepped closer.

"This is so fucking weird. Are we really about to do this?"

"Only if you want. I mean, I want to, but we can stop whenever you say the word."

He was closer now, dropping kisses on her shoulders while he pressed their chests together to reduce the space between him.

Olivia's legs naturally hooked themselves around his waist at the same time that her arms circled his neck.

She leaned forward to speak against Daveed's lips with her eyes hooded in lust, "I want this."

Passion and the hint of strawberry coating their lips intensified the moment between Olivia and Daveed. He held her writhing hips steady while he stood on his toes to push forward. Simultaneous moans of pleasure rang out in the kitchen, surely gaining the attention of nearby neighbors.

Their hips bucked an even pace, repeatedly meeting to build tension in their bellies. Daveed felt the strain of each stroke in his thighs and calves but found the desire to fuck his friend on her kitchen table to override any other immediate discomfort.

"Are you a talker," Daveed asked randomly, making Olivia's eyes snap up from the action below her waist to focus her attention on him.

"What?"

"A talker. Do you like to talk during sex?" His question came between labored breaths and grunts holding a mixture of exertion and indescribable pleasure.

"Daveed, are you trying to have a conversation with me right now?"

"I mean, I like to - fuck - I...I like to talk sometimes. Is that cool?"

A high-pitched moan ripped through Olivia's throat before she could gather her senses to respond. "It's your c-call, Diggs. Just don't stop."

He followed directions without skipping a beat, digging into his strength to pick up speed when he sensed they could move to the next level. He peppered in filthy statements that stimulate Olivia's mind while driving into her with expert precision.

They held on to each other as they reached separate peaks with no regard for the climbing noise level.

"I wanna do this forever," Daveed whispered into Olivia's ear before nipping at the lobe.

"Not look into my eyes lovingly and write songs about me?"

Daveed chuckled and snapped his hips forward, earning a near-silent moan. "Can I use you calling me daddy on the hook?"

"You got a lot of work to do before that happens."

"I'll put in overtime."

Splaying his hand across Olivia's torso, Daveed pushed her to lay flat on the table before leaning to hover over her body. He used his waning energy to give her all the power in his hips, searching for a climax. When she thought she couldn't come anymore, Olivia felt her body jolt off the table once the pad of Daveed's thumb began rubbing tight circles on her clit. Daveed smiled at the reaction but felt it disappear as soon as his hips falter mid-stroke. He rushed to pull out of Olivia, fearing that if he stayed inside for a moment longer, he would expedite his journey to fatherhood.

Olivia helped his cause by curling her fingers around his length and joining his pumping effort while she propped her body up on her elbow. He came with a choppy moan and heavy breathing on her belly, his chest rising and falling rapidly in time with the stove's timer beeping for attention.

Both Olivia and Daveed dissolved into laughter.

"Please, don't let this dry on me. It's sexy now but a pain to get off later."

Daveed's laughter climbed to hysterics at Olivia's mention of the mess on her stomach before reaching across the table to grab napkins out of the centerpiece component.

"Sorry," he apologized sheepishly as he helped wipe her clean. "Condoms next time?" 

"Or my mouth."

Daveed stood shocked for a split second while Olivia worked to readjust her clothing and hurry to the stove. He followed her lead and pulled up his sweats before clearing the syrup pot and grabbing wipes to disinfect the surface.

The room was silent while they arranged hot dishes on the counter and privately grappled with having sex for the first time. A sense of "now what" hung in the air, which made Daveed more and more uncomfortable.

After plates were fixed, they chose opposite ends of the table to enjoy the meal.

"You know," Olivia started, laughing as she swallowed the last piece of cornbread on her plate. "That simple syrup recipe is my mom's. This whole meal was her favorite thing to cook, and I made it because I was really fuckin' sad and needed her nearby. Then you showed up."

Daveed's eyes snapped up from his plate. He wasn't sure what to say and remained silent in hopes that Olivia would elaborate.

"A couple weeks before she died, she told me that she would still be directing my love life from Heaven. She grabbed my hand and said, 'Dammit, Bean, I'm gone get you a man even if I gotta do it during bingo with the good Lord.'"

"You think she's up there winning the grand prize?"

Olivia shook her head. "I think she forfeited it to send you to me."

Her answer made Daveed still to watch Olivia's eyes meet his set from across the table. She reached a hand across the table with her palms facing upward, beckoning Daveed to place his palm in the center of hers.

"We have three weeks to figure this shit out," Daveed said, smiling before bringing Olivia's palm to rest on his cheek.

She looked at him for a minute to take in the way his eyes reflected the sun before using her head to gesture toward the pot still resting on the counter.

"And all night to finish off mama's recipe."

#daveed diggs #daveed x reader #daveed diggs x reader

[talkingtea]

not flash related but is anyone else sick of netfix, prime etc only having black leads where shows are either based off struggle (drugs,gangs, absent farthers, abuse etc) or comedy stereotypes about black church going family with really lame yet racially charged jokes? I'm really struggling to find good shows/movies....like why cant we have an emily in paris but latesha goes to Naija or sumfin.

Also dont get me started on most shows having two black dudes as supporting characters with no black female representation. And i love my light skin sisters but there are other shades of black.

Also brigerton doesnt count (they shipped the black cousin to live with some old man)

Also i like that they have two dark skin women on the falcon and winter soldier.

But if you have other suggestions, please help a sis out.

Sorry end rant.

That isn’t just a streaming platform problem, that’s a Hollywood problem. It has become the norm to typecast black women—especially dark-skinned black women—either the funny/sassy best friend, the loud stereotypical ‘ghetto’ chick, the asexual Mammy/magical negro type that exists to coddle/protect/ultimately sacrifice themselves for their white counterpart, or the over-sexualized Jezebel who is recognized as beautiful and enticing but only for a good fuck and not much else, more specifically, not to be loved, cherished or protected herself.

Hollywood has been shuffling through those tropes like it’s a deck of cards for decades. That’s why when they choose to step outside the box and try something new—like casting Candice as Iris—that deviation from the norm should be protected, celebrated and used to make crystal clear that it’s the start of something newer, bigger and better. Not something that is hidden, poorly supported and only seen and treated as a checked box instead of a bold step in the right direction.

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

Déjà vu

Character: Bucky Barnes x Tall!Reader

(There really isn’t any plot based around the reader’s height. But I wanted to highlight it because there’s not enough tall girl representation. And that’s that.)

Summary: Bucky thought his days of memory loss were done. But after a serious head injury, he can’t seem to remember anything past his time in Wakanda. But he’s starting feel like his life is missing more than just memories.

Word Count: 3,000 - One Shot

Bucky could hear people arguing. Why did it sound like they were all hovering above him?

It definitely wasn’t helping his excruciating headache. His skull felt like it was trying to split in half.

“Could you all just shut up?” He grumbled.

Finally he found the urge and strength to open his eyes.

When he blinked his vision back into focus and slowly sat up, everything around him went quiet.

Steve, Tony, Natasha, and Sam were all watching him with concern.

“What the hell are you all looking at?” Bucky asked.

“Buck,” Steve stepped forward. “Do you remember what happened to you?”

He blinked, realizing now that he didn’t. “Umm…”

“You got knocked the fuck out,” Tony chimed in.

“Tony,” Steve warned with a glare. Then his eyes softened when the turned back to his friend. “Bucky, what’s the last thing you remember?”

Bucky’s headache was getting worse as he tried to remember. “I…I don’t remember.”

“Shit,” Sam muttered under his breath as he crossed his arm.

Suddenly a doctor came in, looking relieved to see Bucky awake.

“Sergeant Barnes,” she greeted. “Glad to see you’re up.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes at her. The way she was talking to him was all too familiar, too informal. Like she knew him as more than just a patient.

“Who’s this?” Bucky asked Steve.

The group shared a look.

Then he looked around the room, not recognizing anything. “Where the hell am I? Is this a hospital?”

“Bucky, you’ve known Dr. Maxfield for almost two years…” Steve finally spoke. “You’re at the Avengers compound.”

“In Midtown?” Bucky asked as he looked out the window to see nothing but trees, grass, and other low-level buildings.

“No, Bucky. We’re Upstate.” Nat sighed. “This is not good.”

——————————————— Everyone kept tossing around the word amnesia.

But Bucky was worried it was something more – something that Hydra hid away in his brain. Yeah, Shuri had cured him. She was certain of it. But maybe Hydra left something else in there if everything else failed, like a reset button.

But it just didn’t go off right.

Bucky felt fine. But it was everyone else’s concerning looks that were stressing him out. 

Even the Avengers looked at him with love and care. He hardly knew them.

Apparently, he was wrong. In the past 5 years, they’d become his comrades, his friends, his family.

And he couldn’t remember any of it.

He only knew them as his two sides of a fight. A fight that he had caused. A fight that forced Steve to split all his friends in half.

That’s what Bucky remembered.

Then Wakanda came after, the only peace he’d known recently.

He couldn’t put a time on how long he’d been in the African country. He also couldn’t remember leaving.

“We were on a mission. You took a blast to the chest,” Steve had to take a moment before he continued. “I’ve never seen someone a hit like that. I was convinced you broke your neck and you’d be dead when I got to you.”

Bucky could hear it in his best friend’s voice: Steve had been terrified.

“I’m fine, punk.” He tried to assure him.

“But you’re not fine. You can’t remember the last 5 years of your life.

“Well, from what you’re all telling me, I wasn’t a brainwashed assassin killing people for Hydra. So, things could be worse.” Bucky smirked.

But Steve was only glaring at him in return. “That’s not funny.”

“Really? I thought it was pretty funny.”

“We’ll figure this out,” Steve thought aloud. “You’ve got your memories back before. You can do it again.”

Bucky was a little taken aback by Steve’s insistence. He hadn’t acted this way last time a similar situation occurred.

Then Bucky realized...last time there were more memories that he hadn’t wanted to remember than there were good ones.

With the way Steve was acting, it was like there things Bucky would regret not remembering.

————————————

Bucky and Sam were sparring.

He’d been spending more time with the man, starting to believe like he was the only person that didn’t make him feel bad for not remembering their friendship.

Bucky started to figure out that the two of them must’ve grown really close over the years. It’s like he could sense it.

The doors of the training room opened.

They’d had the place to themselves, deciding to train at an odd hour.

In walked a young woman.

She was taller than most women. Hell, she was taller than most men. But her shoulder’s were pulled back and she almost glided in with the confidence of an Amazon warrior. Her hair was pulled back, and she was only wearing a black sports bra with her black leggings. Clearly she was there to train too.

Bucky stopped his movements and did a double take at her entrance.

When he looked back at Sam, his gaze was flickering back and forth between Bucky and the girl. But Bucky couldn’t read his face.

“Who’s that?” Bucky asked.

Sam’s jaw clenched. “That’s Y/N. She’s an agent. One of Fury’s.”

Then she noticed the two men and she stopped her entrance.

It was like her and Sam were having a silent conversation. But, without a single word, she quickly turned around and left the training room.

A wave of a guilt washed over him.

Was she scared of him? After 5 years, was he still only the Winter Soldier to the world? Maybe he should’ve stayed in Wakanda. Why had he left in the first place?

“I should actually…” Sam didn’t even finish his sentence before he quickly rushed after the woman.

Bucky didn’t question him or follow. But he did keep thinking about Y/N, wondering why it had been so hard to take his eyes off of her.

——————————-

“She doesn’t talk much,” Bucky muttered quietly to Steve.

He’d ask Bucky to watch the new trainees. “If you can train with a bunch of Winter Soldiers, maybe you can help some of the youngsters out,” Steve had teased him.

But Bucky had only promised to watch from a distance. He didn’t think he was in any place to teach anybody anything.

“Who?” Steve asked without taking his eyes off the recruits.

“The tall, beautiful one,” Bucky nodded subtly in her direction. No one was close enough to eavesdrop. “Y/N,” he added.

She was standing with a couple of the other instructors/agents. But she was the only one not giving any commands. Every so often, she’d show someone how to fix their form. But it was usually silently, only adjusting their body in the correct way.

Steve quickly looked at him. “You know her?”

“Sam told me her name. A few weeks ago, she walked out of the training room as soon as she saw me there. I’m guessing she doesn’t like me very much.”

He was waiting for Steve to shed light on the situation, even just confirm or deny Bucky’s suspicion. But Steve stayed quiet.

After a few minutes, Steve cleared his throat. “She doesn’t talk much because of her ability.”

Bucky’s brow furrowed. “What’s her ability?”

Steve seemed to be having an internal battle on how much or little to tell Bucky. “Psychic seduction through pheromones.”

“Excuse me?”

Steve sighed. “Mind control, Bucky. She can control people with a simple verbal suggestion. She tells people to do something and they have no choice but to do it.”

Mind control. It should’ve scared Bucky more. She embodied the exact thing that had ruined his life and made the world hate him. Everything he still feared, she was capable to executing at any given moment.

But when he looked at her, he didn’t feel any fear.

“Doesn’t look like people are too scared of her…” Bucky observed.

“That’s because most people don’t know. And if they do, they’ve never actually seen her use it.”

Now Bucky was curious. “And have you? Ever seen it, I mean.”

“Yeah,” Steve answered darkly. “Then I saw why she doesn’t want people to know.”

As if she could feel people looking at her and talking about her, Y/N looked over at them. Her gaze locked with Steve’s for a moment before she quickly turned her back on them. “You two friends?” Bucky asked.

“We were,” Steve answered. His tone was sad, but Bucky could tell he was trying to hide it. “She prefers to keep to herself. That’s just how she’s chosen to do deal with it.”

————————————————

A couple months went by and not a single memory from the past five years had come back to Bucky. 

It seemed like his friendships with the team had rebounded faster than he ever expected them to.

“Just because you’ve forgotten them, doesn’t mean they’re going to stop caring about you,” Steve had told Bucky when he seemed confused by it all.

Even with the memories missing, Bucky felt like there was something bigger missing from his life.

He couldn’t fathom what it could possibly be. His life was better than he could’ve ever imagined.

 The Avengers had opened their home to him, welcomed him to their dysfunctional family. Some of the public even considered him a hero.

So why did Bucky still feel like he was missing something? Or was it someone?

Even with all the time that had passed since his recovery in Wakanda, Bucky still couldn’t sleep most nights.

He’d remembered Nat saying something about a pool the other day.

Bucky couldn’t remember the last time he went swimming. So, when he was faced with another sleepless night, he figured he wouldn’t bother spending it tossing and turning.

When he got to the giant indoor pool, the only lights on were those coming from under the water. It made the whole place glow blue.

Except it looked like someone had a similar idea to Bucky.

They were doing laps back and forth.

Despite how fast they were moving, he could at least tell it was a woman in the water.

They stopped at the end Bucky was standing near and gripped the edge to take a moment to rest.

Bucky’s heart sped when he realized it was Y/N.

After all this time, they still hadn’t had a single conversation. But he found himself always looking for her. When he entered a crowed room, she was the first face he searched for. When anyone mentioned her in conversation, he would eavesdrop and try to learn as much about her as he could.

It seemed all the Avengers had been close with her – or still were, like Nat and Sam. But whenever Bucky tried to subtly ask either of them about her, they would always try to change the subject.

Sensing someone was watching her, Y/N looked up from the water.

For once, she didn’t glare at him. She just seemed surprised to see him.

“I’ll go,” Bucky quickly told her. “You were here first.”

But she was already pulling herself out of the water.

The motion made all of her muscles flex and show off her strength, making Bucky stare longer and more intensely at her body than he should’ve.

Bucky should’ve been used to women’s bathing suits in this time period.

Y/N was wearing a one piece, but it was cut so high in the hips and so low in the front that it left little to the imagination.

Bucky didn’t think her legs could be any longer, but the bathing suit was showing him how wrong he was.

Her height was something Bucky still hadn’t gotten over. He saw how it made the majority of men around her cower or desexualize her. Some of them overlooked her for the petite and overtly feminine women. They seemed to hate how she made them look and feel less manly.

Bucky thought those men were idiots.

Y/N didn’t say anything as she walked past him to grab a towel.

“Do you hate me?” Bucky’s mouth betrayed him.

She froze.

“I know there are people who still…I can’t remember everything still.” Then he paused and took a breath. “I’m just trying to figure out if I did something to you…when I was him – no, when I was it.” He rubbed one of his temples. “Did I hurt someone you cared about?”

She watched him struggle for a moment.

But then she gave a stiff shake of her head.

Bucky exhaled with relief. But he knew he wasn’t in the clear. There was still some sort of tension between them.

“You really are shy, huh?” He tried to be playful.

But this just made her scowl at him.

Bucky decided he never wanted to be on the receiving end of that look again.

“I’m not shy,” her voice was loud and clear. And there was nothing shy about it.

“Quiet then,” Bucky offered, still trying to tease her.

“I talk when I need to,” she replied curtly.

He could tell she wanted to leave this conversation. Hell, she tried to run out as soon as she saw him.

But she was giving him a chance to say one last thing. She lingered long enough for it.

Except Bucky was suddenly rendered speechless.

If the Winter Soldier hadn’t effected her life in some way, why did he get the sense that she wanted absolutely nothing to do with him?

Yes, Steve was right when he said she liked to keep to herself. But Bucky had seen her talking to Nat and Sam. He’d seen her laugh. It had made him smile without even being able to hear it because he was so far away. So why couldn’t he be a part of that?

Y/N decided his time was up. “Goodnight, James.”

She passed him without another glance.

“James…” he repeated in a whisper after she’d gone. 

No one called him that here. Not even Steve. It was either Bucky or Sergeant Barnes, which he hated. He didn’t feel worthy of that title anymore, he hadn’t for awhile.

———————————————————

“Barton’s with me,” Tony started calling out teams. “And Barnes is with Y/L/N.”

Steve immediately interrupted and gave a warning look, “Stark!”

“I don’t need a buddy,” Y/N stated evenly.

But Bucky didn’t miss the look her and Steve shared.

“Well, we’re doing the buddy system. You two used to work together swimmingly.” He smirked as Y/N gave him a death glare. “Plus, I pay for everything, so you have to listen to me.”

Bucky could tell that it was taking every single ounce of power for Y/N not to tackle Stark. Even Steve looked like he was ready to play defense.

Before that could happen, Steve dragged Tony to the other side of the jet. Far enough away and too quiet for Bucky to make out any words, but he could tell Steve was pissed.

“I promise I won’t get in your way,” Bucky told Y/N gently when no one else was paying attention to them.

She ignored him.

Bucky took the lead as they weaved in and out of the dark hallways.

There was a shut door at the end. They could both hear at least a dozen men talking amongst themselves on the other side. It was the control room, therefore everyone in there was also carrying at least 3 firearms and a couple of grenades.

Bucky gave her a look that asked if she was ready.

She didn’t look at all stressed or like she was going through the same adrenaline rush that Bucky always did on missions.

But she nodded her head.

Bucky kicked open the door.

Y/N stepped past him so he could only look at her back.

“Everybody freeze,” Y/N yelled.

To Bucky’s shock, not a single muscle so much as twitched.

“All of you, put your weapons on the center of the table,” she talked quietly and calmly, now that she had their attention.

They all had utter fear in their eyes and their bodies responded to the command without their consent.

Bucky slowly lowered his gun as he watched it all.

Y/N eyed him.

Her posture changed suddenly. “You,” she pointed to one of the men. “Stand up.”

He obeyed.

“Pick up that gun,” she pointed to one of the twenty something guns on the table. He obeyed. “Load the chamber,” the gun clicked. “Put the gun in your mouth,” his hand shook as he had no choice but to do as she said. Bucky was breathing heavily.

“I changed my mind. Point it at his head,” she nodded toward a man on the other side of the table.

He obeyed.

Her voice was quick and emotionless.

Both the man with the gun and the man he was aiming at were shaking, eyes filled with tears. All free will had been sucked from them.

Y/N then turned toward Bucky.

She gave him an expression that dared him to tell her to stop.

He stayed silent.

“Put the gun down,” she finally relieved her victim. “All of you, stay in here until exactly 11:09 tomorrow morning. If anyone tries to leave…shoot them.”

Bucky followed her out.

“Control room has been infiltrated. They’ll be waiting and ready to comply when SHILED comes to apprehend them,” Y/N spoke into her comms.

“Nicely done, kid,” Tony was the only one to acknowledge her.

Y/N gave Bucky a look. “Still want to be friends with me?” She challenged.

Bucky knew what she was trying to do. He knew that she was trying to scare him, to push him away. She was telling him to drop all and any efforts of trying to get to know her.

It wasn’t until they were on the jet home that he sat down next to her, looking straight ahead, and said, “You don’t scare me.”

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

Part 2

I know I shouldn’t be writing one-shots when I have a series to finish. But I was bored and then I got inspired and I couldn’t help myself.  Let me know what you think. 

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes reader insert #deja vu #Déjà vu #marvel reader insert #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky angst #bucky fluff #bucky barnes amnesia #winter soldier x reader #bucky one shot #bucky fic #bucky barnes fic #marvel fanfic #invisible anonymous monsters #invisibleanonymousmonsters #bucky barnes x tall!reader #bucky barnes x tall!fem!reader #tall reader insert #marvel tall reader insert #bucky tall reader insert

[trashcatsnark]

WHY THE FUCK WERE UP SO LATE??? FUCKING UR SO LUCKY I CANT BEAT UR ASS OTHERWISE ITD BE KNUCKLE CITY

anyway, speaking about johnny boy i was thinking about him + nibbles and our like collective desicion that he is essiently a cat and it is really weirdly fitting that it just makes me like ???? so like cats themselves are a reoccuring motif within the game from the start, when u go to viks, when ur chatting up takemura and at the end with the rooftop that also doubles as like the millionith matrix reference. they follow v and they take up the role of the bakeneko, which i think in the game is defined by them appearing near death ? or just disaster. the obvious thing is that it is to do with v's inpending death and their whole sitation but like the general point is like the cat symbolises the death that follows v as the cat follows them. this puts johnny in an interesting sitation from his catlike nature to how he seems to like and get along with nibbles, he is linked with cats. he is also the parasite that is killing v. he is V's bakeneko. their signal of death. the events start because of his relic, jackie dies for him, and soon does most of the cast from act 1, and a large part of the death from then on is a direct result of them trying to solve the relic and johnny's whole presence is a signal for hey v ur fucking dying. he is death for them. the bakeneko.

makes me wonder if his catlike attributes were intentionally done cause that boy aint right or we just accidently walked on a really thematic fitting landmind

Spoilers within, again, also leave my sleeping schedule alone, I do not function. Additionally, I have a lot to say about Nibbles, omens, cats, and pets then how they all relate back to Johnny so congrats on opening a flood gate my friend!

 think the thematic thing with Johnny and cats and the bakeneko has to 1000000 percent be intentional, because he even sees a cat when Alt is kidnapped. And that goes back to Cyberpunk Red. Like that was used and utilized and then became such a large part of the story. 

Johnny is clearly meant to be a bakeneko; he’s actively next to the cat in that conversation, leaves when it does, see the same cat before Alt’s death, and is again the visual representation of what is happening to V. He is the symbol of their death, whether he wants to be or not. 

I think it’s also interesting to note, the Bakeneko, which is described as an omen of death and misfortune isn’t the only way we see cats used thematically within the game. Albeit, this way is more subtle and perhaps intentionally so. We also see the maneki-neko; the lucky cat statues are everywhere in game. In V’s apartment, Misty’s shop, Vik’s clinic. Everyyyyyywhereeeeee. 

So, we see two mythological cats from Japanese culture. One brings misfortune and one brings good luck. And Johnny exemplifies both. 

Johnny is a visual representation of all that is destroying V. His mere existence and presence a constant reminder that their death is around the corner. An ever present omen that V’s clock is ticking. He also often pops up to have a comment just before massive relic malfunctions and disasters. The end of every main game quest is punctuated with a relic malfunction and a lecture from Johnny. 

But without the chip and by extension Johnny, V would already be dead. If the chip hadn’t been the exact right place to be damaged and activated by the gunshot; it would have killed V right then and there. And while this wasn’t an active choice on Johnny’s part, he is the visual representation of the chip. Even then, he later does make an active choice to save V’s life. When V is hit with the worst malfunction yet; Johnny grabs them, “you aren’t dying yet, I got you” and he takes them to safety. He refuses to watch V seize and die in a puddle of their own sick in the middle of nowhere (for me it’s always at the sunset hotel, idk if this changes based on the order you do the events tho) So, he takes control, he eases their pain and takes them somewhere safe, somewhere that means something to him, and swears to die for them. 

Luck both good and bad. Fortune and misfortune. A sign of better days and an omen of death. A maneki-neko and a bakeneko. The time bomb in V’s head and the guy who saved their life. He is both. 

Now, stepping away from the mythological aspects. Lets talk about Nibbles the cat, Johnny, and pets within Cyberpunk 2077. Animals and by extension pets are considered a luxury in Night City. They’re taxed to fuck and back, generally only the wealthy can have them. Its also often brought up that real friends and family who stick by you are very difficult to come by. V becomes through Nibbles one of the rare people to have a pet. One of the other people who had a pet is, Barry their neighbor. 

Barry and his mission is one of the first you can unlock and see in the game. He’s V’s downstairs neighbor and his story is played out so fucking similarly to V’s. Barry lost his best friend, he’s quit his job because he can’t handle the weight of the NCPD’s corruption, and he’s thinking of taking his own life.  V has lost Jackie, its stated in game they get less work than usual because of Konpeki (cant be put on a crew), and very early on can say to Misty “be better off putting in my head”. 

But for Barry that friend ends up being a pet tortoise. And its clear what that tortoise represents; a constant companion, a safe place, and a comfort. Something Barry couldn’t find among his peers until later on when they learn just how much he’s been hurting. And this is treated as such a tragedy, that he only has a pet to turn to. 

And so V gets a cat, because they too are fucking hurting and having a little meowing bundle of skin running around their apartment helps. Something to come home to, something to make that apartment a little less empty, a little more alive. 

So, how does this particular aspect of Nibbles/cats/pets relate to Johnny, I hear you wondering (as well as wondering when Im going to shut up). Well, we know Johnny is linked symbolically with cats and thats the choice of pet for V. And we knows pets have been likened to support without judgement; a companion who you can tell everything too and they won’t abandon you. 

And while Johnny has heaps of judgment and is a dick. He is V’s only constant companion. I know a good junk of people don’t like him or his commentary; but imagine V’s life without Johnny in it through the game events. Imagine how lonely they’d be. 

Johnny is the only one who knows everything and is there with V from the start to the final moments in Mikoshi. 

Vik and Misty know, but they’re no edgerunners, they have no idea everything V is doing out there. Part of why as much as I do love Vik, his frustration with V hurts so much in the end because he talks like V hasn’t done anything to save themselves. Because, Vik doesn’t know what V’s been doing this whole time. 

Each part of the main quests in Act 2 are linked to an NPC; Judy, Panam, and Takemura. And not one of them know or are there throughout the entirety of V’s journey. Judy doesn’t get told the full details of what’s happening until later in and stops helping V one Evelyn is saved. Panam doesn’t learn the full details or anything really about the chip until much later. And her quests become her own personal journey once V finds Hellman. And then depending on V’s choices, Panam can come in to help at the end. Takemura knows V is dying and is there to help with the parade and then he’s gone; either dead or in hiding. He refers to anything that doesn’t involve him as V’s shady dealings and leaves it at that. He’s there to interrogate Hellman but he doesn’t know all V did to find him. None of them know everything, none of them have been there the whole time. And that’s not a condemnation of them, I do not expect them to drop everything to be glued to V’s side 24/7 but, I can’t fucking imagine how alone V feels. 

River has no involvement in any main quests and only finds out anything if V chooses to romance him. Kerry knows what Johnny told him and depending on the ending may even leave V. Again, wanna be clear, that isn’t a condemnation on his character. I understand why he does this and i understand his hurt and how it led him to that. 

But this is about how truly fucking alone V is in all of this. Not a single person there start to finish, not a single person knowing all that they have suffered, all that they have been through and are going through. 

Except Johnny. He tells V in the oil fields, closest to him by far, there 24/7, yet they don’t seem to hate him. And he’s that for V too; there the entire way, their demon never leaving.  Johnny knows everything happening; because he’s part of what’s happening. He’s been there through every struggle, every step, every slap in the face as V’s tried to save themselves. Has felt their pain as they lose themselves, has known the people who’ve had to die for them to get this far, as felt their heart break when all they found was betrayal by the Voodoo Boys, Ai Alt asking how V’s life is her problem, getting recommended a hospice by Hellman. 

And as dickish as he is, his comments help. V always has someone there, as much as he sucks. He always has something stupid or naggy to say to help keep some of that weight off their shoulders. Imagine if they didn’t even have that. If Johnny never talked to them, never showed his face. 

A constant companion, like a supportive pet cat except he can talk and did a lot of meth. 

And this is a sidenote that has nothing to do with cats specifically, but that through Samurai music this isn’t the first time Johnny could be compared to an omen. Its no secret that the music was largely created around the game and as such, many of his songs have direct parallels and messages related to the game. Never Fade Away while in universe written in regards to Alt’s death also has so much in common with his journey with V. This brings me to the song Black Dog.

“Black Dog inside my head, guiding me until the end.”

Black Dogs are figures in Irish Mythology  who much like bakeneko’s are talked about in game; are omens of death and misfortune. I just find it interesting I suppose, like Johnny is either a dirty alley cat or a big mangy dog, but either way he’s here cause someones about to die.

Okay this is well over a thousand words, Imma shut up now. This is probably a mess, but anyone here for coherency is in the wrong place. 

#cyberpunk 2077 #cp2077 #cyberpunk 2077 spoilers #johnny silverhand #silverv #tender-wounds

[mandohasmyheart]

Chapter Two - Princess

Din x F!Reader 

{before the asset AU}

Summary: You were always a trouble maker, something that should make your powerful father proud, but instead earns you a babysitter. The mostly silent Mandalorian is nothing more than a challenge to you - seeing how long you can drive him crazy before he cracks under the pressure. Much to your surprise, he is always prepared for everything you throw at him.

Before you know it, the two of you are in some compromising positions, ones that have you wondering just what his motives are and what will happen when it's time for him to leave.

Word Count: 4k 

A/N: willing to tag a happy few if there is interest. Just shoot me an ask and I can get that going for the next chapter. 

Warnings: language 

Feedback  Masterlist  AO3

--- 

It had been seven days since you had been assigned your newest and broodiest babysitter.

He was quiet, hovering around you while you went about your studies, ran a couple of errands for those snacks you always liked to have on hand when the late-night munchies hit, and even spent the nights outside of your bedroom door like you were some kind of prisoner. In a sense, you suppose you were, given the stern talking your father had so kindly given you in the presence of the Mandalorian the following morning.

“People are out to get me,” he had said nonchalantly while plucking a piece of fruit from the platter presented before him. “They will stop at nothing to see me fall and that means taking the one thing that I hold near and dear to my heart.”

You knew it was a gesture of love. You had no doubt that your father wanted nothing more than to keep you safe and locked away in your room where the terrors of the galaxy couldn’t find you. Honestly, you were pretty sure most of the galaxy thought of you to be a myth. For as long as you could remember, Avin Vale, who just happened to be your father, was the kind of man you didn’t fuck with. While you had never actually seen him in action, you had heard the whispers when you were sneaking through the streets, your cloak clinging to the sides of your face in an effort to hide your identity. There had been wisps of beheadings, prisoners howling from their chambers keeping locals awake and the occasional missing person flyer stapled to various carts in the market.

Despite knowing all this, you knew that if anyone really wanted to see the devil that he was, all they needed was to get to you. You knew that it was all for your safety, but still, you wanted to have the life that so many others had.

When you couldn’t sleep at night, you played scenarios in your head of sneaking out into the night, finding the kind of suitor who swept you off your feet with the promise of giving you every star in the galaxy, if it meant that you would be theirs. You pictured the day they approached your father, asking for your hand, this faceless being knowing just what to say so that your father accepted them with open arms and the blessing of a beautiful life together. At the end of your daydreams, you found yourself aching to have the kind of passion that had your lips feeling bruised and every bit of your skin explored by needy hands.

It was almost pitiful how bad you ached for something you weren’t even sure you would ever get to have.

Especially to a universe that barely knew of your existence.

Sighing at the sudden consuming thoughts, you paid the near-human-looking man at the cart for your items and turned, nearly running face-first into your large and quiet escort. “Dank farrik,” you muttered placing a palm on his bulky armor and pushing back so that you could look up at his covered face. “I don’t understand how you can wear all that and still be so quiet.”

His shoulder moved upward in a small shrug. “It takes practice.”

Glaring up at him, you could swear that he was smirking under that damn helmet of his. “Sure,” you said curtly before scooting your way around him with your bag of various items clutched tightly to your chest. “I’m done now.”

“Are you sure?” He asked, the modulator making his tone come out ten times more sarcastic than you were sure he intended, but given you had kept him out of the palace for the better part of three hours, you were certain he was only partially making sure. “There were a couple more carts up ahead that we didn’t stop by.”

Shooting him another glare, followed by a very unladylike gesture, you moved away and began stomping back towards the general direction of home. Your father always insisted that the maids and other workers on the grounds could get you the things you wanted, no matter what time of day it was, but you had been able to convince him that getting out off the grounds made your likelihood of sneaking off in the middle of the night less likely. He was even more comfortable with the idea now that you had a shiny new shadow to tag along.

For the next twenty minutes, the two of you walked in silence while your thoughts started to wander again. It was hard not to find yourself looking over your shoulder every couple of paces, not to see if you were able to lose the Mandalorian, but to see if you had anyone looking at you as anything other than a normal woman running some errands. Since your little card game had been broken up, you couldn’t shake the feeling like you were being watched.

Especially even more so with the human spotlight walking only ten steps behind you.

“No one is watching us,” his almost robotic voice cut through the shared silence.

“Okay, now that’s just creepy.”

You heard his heavy footsteps pick up slightly until he was now walking in pace with you. “Creepy that I’m good at my job?” He asked through his modulator.

“Yeah, that.”

“Hm,” he said, his visor moving to glance over to his right.

You gave him an eyeball, one that you doubted he saw and continued to push forward through a small crowd of school-aged younglings, offering a soft smile to the littlest in the bunch in the process. “Well, it’s hard not to notice the way people are looking at us with you trudging on behind me. If I wasn’t a target before, I certainly am now.”

Expecting some sort of response from him, you were almost shocked at the sudden silence that washed over the two of you once more. You knew you shouldn’t be surprised anymore, the man seemed to live in silence most days, you were starting to question if he was getting enough fluids considering you had never seen him take a pee break in the last couple of hours. Although, you were certain even if he needed to hit the head, he wouldn’t tell you. Especially seeing the grounds come into view.

The usual guards were standing at the gate, nodding towards you and your companion before opening the gates to let the two of you through easily. “Evening Princess,” one of them said with that condescending tone in their voice that made you wish you were allowed to carry a weapon. “Find everything you need?”

“Almost,” you replied, not giving the Twi’lek another glance.

Heavy boots continued to follow behind you as you paraded your way towards the main hall. Eager to finally get yourself some nourishment and maybe sneak a couple of sips of wine while father was busy talking it up with Rafan, but to your surprise, both of them were standing at the entrance hunching in on each other in a deep conversation. As you slowed your steps, your father muttered something to his tanner partner with a nod, allowing Rafan to match his gesture and slip-on past you without a word.

You already could sense what was coming next without the explanation. “You’re leaving?”

A tight smile stretched the old man’s face, but it didn’t meet his eyes. “Just for a couple of days.”

Throughout your whole life, your father traveled for work, meeting with other representations of power. There was a time when you were barely past his knees that you recalled crying and begging him to let you tag along, promising to behave, but every single time it never changed his mind. While you were used to his sudden absences around the estate, every time you found yourself wondering if it could be the last time. Especially with the sudden uptick in security around the place.

“Just a couple of days?” You asked with a raised eyebrow.

“I’ll be back just before the party.”

Once again, you knew his intentions were true, but you weren’t going to hold your breath on his promise. He seemed to know just what was going through your head at the moment because he gently placed his hand on your shoulder giving a gentle squeeze. “I promise,” he said softly, maintaining eye contact before his hand slipped down your arm, tugging your hand into his grasp. “Just promise you’ll be on your best behavior.”

Tight-lipped, you gave him a silent nod. Seeming content with your response, he let go of your hand and took a step back to follow his second in command. For a moment, you stood there, your bag hugged to your chest as you listened to your father walk away. In all of your life, you were used to the absences, but it still didn’t stop the feeling of loneliness that always washed over you.

Someone stepped closer to you and just by the shift in plates, you knew that your babysitter was scooting closer to where you appeared to have spaced out. He cleared his throat, coming out a little garbled before his modulated voice cut through the quiet. “Would you like to find something to eat?”

If you didn’t know any better, you would think he was concerned for you, earning him a sideways glance. “If you are hungry, feel free to ask the staff to make some food,” you answered matter of factly before moving into the main hall and tossing your sack bag on the closest table and beelining to the large room to the left - the opposite direction of where you could smell the aroma of dinner being made.

“You aren’t planning to eat?” He asked, clearly following in step behind you.

Shaking your head, you moved through the large room, the racks stacked high with various types of liquors and wines. Your father was a collector of sorts and he always liked to have something to offer important guests when they arrived as a gesture of good faith. “I’m planning to drink,” you admitted as your fingers skimmed over the bottle at eye level.

It was one that had a nice coating of dust, meaning that it had long since been forgotten in the vast collection. Grabbing it from where it was nestled, you blew the dust off in a puff, coughing as it clouded your senses for a moment. Content with your choice, you moved back out towards the main hall in search of a glass and a way to crack the damned thing open with little effort. “You need something in your stomach first,” his voice came through to your right.

“Wine will be in my stomach.”

There was a sigh, almost as if he had already grasped on to the fact that there would be no arguing with you right now. Without another word, the Mandalorian reached over and grabbed the bottle out of your grasp. When you turned to argue with him, you found his hand wrapped around the neck, giving it a tugged before a satisfying pop replaced the argument on the tip of your tongue. “Does the Princess require a glass or does she drink right from the bottle?”

“Haha,” you said flatly before grabbing the bottle back out of his hands. “I’m not a princess.”

He did that little head tilt he always did when you know he was cocking an eyebrow at you from under his helmet. “I beg to differ.”

“Then beg.”

Without another word, you turned on your heel, grabbing your belongings from earlier, and made your way towards the steps in the back of the hall. Pausing only enough to look back over to see if your shadow was still on your heels, you noticed he hadn’t moved from his spot. “You don’t need to stick around,” you insisted, moving so that you were facing into the dim stairway. “I promise I’ll stay in my room tonight.”

No answer was needed before you began to move up the steps, counting them as you did - an old habit you developed as a child. Sometimes you swore it was a different number every time, but for the last five years you had never been off. Making your way through the softly lit halls, the lamps coming to life as they registered your entrance, you were thankful that you had a whole wing of the palace to yourself. Not only because you could sneak out a little bit easier prior to your new guard, but because you had the privacy to get lost in a bottle of wine and a book without fear of being interrupted.

As the door to your room came into view, you paused, still half expecting to hear the Mandalorian trailing in behind you, but unless he had become even more of a shadow - you were one hundred percent sure that you were alone.

Just like always.

Pushing the door open with your shoulder, you noted that the housekeepers had been in sometime during the day to make your bed and pick up the clothes that you almost always had thrown around the place. They knew better to go really digging through your things, the one time you had caught a younger maid poking through one of your drawers where you hid a couple of your more, ahem, spicier late night readings and you saw red. That poor girl resigned so quick, you were certain she left smoke in her wake.

You had felt a little bad at your reaction, but if your father had learned about the things you dived into in the late hours of the night he would probably have a heart attack. And then he probably would have really banned you from ever leaving the grounds. That was a luxury you could not afford to lose.

Placing your bag down on your bedside table, you flopped on the bed with your wine in hand before bringing the bottle to your lips and taking a long swing. The liquid was sweet, reminding you of honeydew as it slid down your throat so smoothly, you were taking another long draw before you had completely finished the first. Having plans to dig into your forbidden pile of reading, you moved to get up but felt the desire to run a bath instead.

Waiting for the tub to fill, you continued to drink from the bottle until it was just enough for you to strip down bare and slide in. Of course, you were still clutching the bottle like it was your lifeline at the moment. “Happy birthday,” you muttered softly to yourself as the sadness finally settled in your chest.

You didn’t give in to the ache in your chest that was begging for the normal release of tears. You had spent too many of your birthdays doing just that and you refused to have it be another repeat this year. So, instead, you continued to drown down the filling with gulp after gulp of the sweet wine until your body felt warm and flushed in the tub. It was all so comforting and cozy, just closing your eyes the littlest bit had you feeling like you were anywhere else.

-----

“Princess,” a voice came through as you groaned, twisting until you felt something cold splash across your cheek. “Oh, good, you’re breathing.”

The modulated voice had you suddenly sitting up, the once warm bath water ice-cold as your choppy movements had it splashing all around you. The silver-clad man was standing on the opposite side of your bathing quarters, his arms crossed as his gaze was fixed where you were bunched up.

Completely naked.

“How long have you been in here?” You asked while trying to wrap your arms around you in an effort to keep your modesty. “It’s rude to interrupt a bath.”

“More like a nap,” he said cooly but didn’t make any effort to move. “I tried knocking several times.”

“I doubt that,” you replied, eyeing how your robe was conveniently just out of your reach and hanging to the Mandalorian's left. “I would have heard you.”

Finally, the man shifted, uncrossing his arms and tipping his head to the side in that almost puppy-dog way of his. “You were snoring.”

“I don’t snore.”

A low chuckle came out of him now as he stepped forward to where you were. “Just like you aren’t a Princess?”

“Fuck you.”

Even without being able to see his face, you knew he was smirking at you from underneath his helmet. The two of you glared at one another, well more as you glared at your reflection, for a couple of seconds. After a beat, he moved, turning away from your naked frame and snagging the dark purple robe from its hook, and keeping his eyes forward while his arm extended back towards you.

Wordlessly, you took the covering, quickly standing and wrapping yourself in the thin material. Stepping out of the tub, you noted the bottle of the wine sitting on the ground by your feet and quickly scooped it up, taking a swig as you moved into your bed chambers. Naturally, your shadow moved behind you with ease, it was impossible to move without feeling his hidden gaze on your back.

“Why are you in here?” You finally asked. “You can see that I’m okay, you don’t need to hang around.”

In that silence of his, he moved a couple of steps back, leaning against the wall closest to his only exit. “I would argue otherwise.” His head nodded towards the bottle of wine in your hand. “If I had known you were going to try and drown yourself, I would have done a better job fighting you for that.”

“You opened it,” you reminded him with another swig while settling down on the edge of your bed facing him.

He gave you a half-hearted shrug. “Something told me that you would have found a way to get your hands on it otherwise.”

“Huh,” another swig, “you are a little too damn observant.”

Silence.

You sighed, clearly picking up that he was in no rush to get out of your room, despite knowing that you were currently sitting half-naked in a very thin article of clothing before him. As you took another gulp of the wine before extending the bottle towards him. “Care for some?”

Shaking his head, he held up a hand towards you in silent nix of the offer. “I prefer to be alert at all times.”

“Hm,” you nodded, shrugging and sipping from the bottle some more. That familiar warm feeling was beginning to wash over you once more. “I suppose you would actually have to remove your prized helmet to do that, right?”

His weight shifted as he uncrossed his arms and leaned himself so that he was looking at your head-on. “It is against my code to remove my helmet in front of the presence of others.”

“I know.”

That damn head tilt of his again and you suddenly wanted to know all about who he was behind the mask. Maybe it was the wine that was in your system or the fact that you were certain it was judging you behind the safety of being a blank face to you. “Isn’t it the way? Or something along those lines?”

“Something along those lines.”

You nodded your head, looking down at the bottle in your hand, rolling it back and forth between your palms while noticing how much lighter it felt. “How do you… eat? Or drink?”

His body shifted once more so that she was now standing and no longer leaning against the wall, but you knew that you had his full attention. “I do remove it,” he said, his voice soft in the quietness of your room, “but I have to be completely alone.”

“What happens if someone sees you without it?”

“Then I am no longer worthy of my title.”

His title. You knew it was important. You knew that many of the Mandalorians you had read about in your studies were dying out or in hiding. It was one of the reasons you knew it was a huge deal for your father to be keeping him on sight and even more so if he was stuck with you. “Why are you here?”

Your sudden blurting of a question had him shifting once more. “I’m here to keep an eye on you.”

This time you didn’t hide your eye roll. “That’s not what I mean.”

There was a huff, one that could almost be a sigh and you started to suspect you weren’t going to get an answer. But he surprised you as his distorted voice came through once more. “I’m here for a bounty, but due to the issues with my ship, I am with you until further notice.”

“Just like a babysitter.”

He moved so that he was leaning once more. “Something like that.”

Another swig of your stolen wine and you felt another question bubbling up in the back of your throat. “Do you really think my dad will be back in two days?”

“Do you want him to be?”

It was a loaded question, one that you weren’t really sure if you knew the right answer completely. Another swig and a shrug off the question, you said something else entirely. “It’s my birthday.”

“Well then, happy birthday.”

“You sound so sincere over there,” you said flatly, cocking an eyebrow up at him.

You watched as the Mandalorian shifted his stance once more. “I try not to get attached.”

“To your jobs?”

“Something like that,” he repeated his same words from earlier. “I am not usually one to… babysit, as you say.”

Scooting yourself back on your bed a bit more, you felt the belt around your waist loosen, but the wine was making you less concerned about how modest you looked. Part of you was curious to know if this Mandalorian was capable of getting all hot and bother underneath all that gear. Judging by the way he was shifting himself on his feet once more, as you moved just enough that the swell of your breast was exposed to the chill in your room, you felt like you were getting the answer you wanted. “I have a question,” you stated, sitting up more and leaning forward so that you could really look him in his visor.

“I feel like I shouldn’t be surprised by that.”

Ignoring that, you pushed forward. “Why are you babysitting me? Especially if it isn’t something you usually do?” You moved, crossing your legs under the long sleek fabric pooling around you. “I’m sure you’ve heard all about how I can handle my own. I’ve been doing it for years.”

He was quiet, his gaze fixed on where you were sitting on the bed cradling the bottle of wine like it was your only source of comfort. He continued to stay quiet while you blinked, not daring to look away from him knowing that he could easily slip out without a trace. “I have been asked to not disclosed that information.”

“Meaning that my father wants me to be kept in the dark.”

Silence.

With a sigh you threw yourself back into your overly plush pillows, feeling the feathery puff of them surround your face and shoulders. “I shouldn’t be surprised anymore.”

If you hadn’t heard him step forward, you would have been certain that he had taken your sound of defeat as an excuse to leave. “He just wants you to be safe.”

“I know.”

He cleared his throat now causing you to roll over and look at his station by the door. “Any other questions for me tonight, Princess?”

You still hated the nickname, but this time you smirked when he said it. Maybe it was the way he said it, maybe it was the wine, or maybe because you were too tired to come up with a proper comeback at the moment, but as you felt your eyes get heavy with the need to sleep, “Not tonight, Mando.”

As your eyes fluttered close and the slow feeling of sleep washed over you, you could have sworn you heard a whisper not too far from where you lay. “It’s Din.”

—

#the beskar guard #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandolorian x reader #mando x reader #mando x #mando x you #mando x y/n #mandalorian x reader #mandalorian x you #Mandalorian #din djarin #din x reader #din djaren x reader #din djaren x you #Din x you #baby yoda #baby grogu #star wars #luke skywalker #tbg #reader insert

[human-sweater-vest]

massive loki spoilers ahead

what the fuck. what the fuck?

okay, so i knew it was gonna be bad. i did my best to avoid most of the stuff online so i wouldn't get spoiled, but i knew that the rep was gonna be trash. i knew that loki and sylvie was gonna be a thing. but it still hurts??? and I wanna talk about it.

i have always adored loki as a character, even though they're also very painful because of their connection to someone i loved very much who treated me very badly. i love that the bare minimum of bisexuality and genderfluidity was hit. even though it was the bare fucking minimum, it was there and that's a step in the right direction.

that being said: it was the bare fucking minimum. we didn't need a romance. it wasn't that kind of story! would i have been intrigued to see loki and mobius as a romantic paring? sure! i think they had great chemistry and the loki in this show hadn't been exposed to genuine connection like that basically ever. that being said i don't actually give a flying fuck that loki and mobius wasn't a thing because that wasn't the show! this was loki's chance for growth and self discovery and instead they took that "self discovery" and tossed him a LITERAL VARIANT OF HIMSELF to make out with.

loki and sylvie could have been allies, they both needed that. they could have been friends, they definitely needed that. especially as two people who understood each other on a literal loki level. but no. instead we get tossed some heteronormative bull-fucking-shit because she's the "female loki" which means she's immediately going to be the love interest.

that's not even the worst of it though. because yes, I'm infuriated as a nonbinary queer person who loves loki a whole hell of a lot and feels baited by the promise of representation. but I'm also just sad because there was an opportunity to create a better world for both sylvie and loki and I think it was tossed to the side for the sake of a "romance" to up the pain stakes when she betrayed him.

in summary:

1. I'm pissed at the essentially nonexistent genderfluid rep. the bi rep was there and that made me happy. I think that showing m/f bi couples is important because they often get written off as straight, however, writing m/f bi couples when they're literal variants of the same person is a big fucking no from me. ultimately, I don't think this show needed a romance, queer or otherwise.

2. sylvie deserved better. she was a genuinely hurting character and I feel like she deserved more of a limelight as a whole person who happened to be a variant of loki rather than someone for him to make goo-goo eyes at. and I know that that's a harsh take on my part. she was kickass. but I really do think she just needed a friend and an ally. I feel like there was a better way to go here.

3. overall I think that this was a wonderful show, I think tom hiddleston kicked major ass as loki and I loved watching him go through the motions of loki really getting some good character development. I think that while I am feeling pain from how loki and sylvie's relationship was turned into a weird incestuous (selfcestuous?) romance, I can ultimately look at this show and say that it was pretty good.

I'm sure I'll be back with more to say at a later point. after all, my thoughts about loki can go on for all time, always.

#loki disney+ #mcu loki #loki series #loki spoilers #loki show discourse

[minshookie]

Pillow Fight.

Pairing |Bully!Jungkook x reader

Genre | smut, angst.

Summary | “Another day spent babysitting your bully’s little sister...you should really quit but the pay is just too good.”

!warnings! | 18+ mature language, bullying, mentioned sexual acts, mentions of past bullying, NON-CON,financial struggle, Jungkook is a really shitty big brother.

| this is not in anyway shape or form a true depiction or representation of BTS, this is a work of fiction and is not to be taken seriously. For entertainment purposes only.|

(this is my work, please don’t repost or steal)

Requested [open for request] words: 1k.

A/N: I rewrote this so many times! Lmfaoo! Buuut get ready because some of requests yall sent in are 🥵🥵.

“Orange is your best color.” Aera chirped dragging the paint drowned brush along your pinky nail. “I think you’re just saying that because it’s your favorite.” The young girl giggles continuing to color your fingertips. “Uhm are you staying all night miss y/n?” Nodding you brushed back her wild strands of hair softly with your free hand. “Soooo like a sleep over?!” She squeals closing the bottle of nail polish, her eyes glittering as she gazes into yours intent for answers. “Yeah!” You matching her energy only made her more excited, “yay! And-and can Jungkookie Oppa come?!” She bounced on her knees smiling ear to ear, fumbling over her words.

“Oh...Jungkook huh... Hmm what about no boys aloud?” You planted the idea praying she’d take the bait as you started cleaning her toy makeup, giving her a chance to think it over.

“What? Jungkook isn’t a boy, he’s my brother!” Giggling she pounced from the couch striding towards his room. At this point all you could do is laugh at her innocent lack of logic. She looks so happy who are you to burst her little bubble, for all you know Jungkook might want nothing to do with the both of you and your little mock slumber party.

Closing the toy purse you hid it back away in the large toy chest she pulled from her room, leaving it open you cleared the floor of the multicolored blocks and dolls. A whisper of a laugh escapes your lips as you overhear Aera’s begs and pleas mixed with Jungkook’s refusals....but finally the door creaks.

Please no. “Y/n, guess what?!” She drags your name out as her small foot steps pitter the floor, Jungkook’s thudding. She comes down the hall pulling Jungkook by his middle finger. “As if you weren’t undesirable enough, neon nails really helped it out.” Grumbling he throws himself on the couch you just tidied up. “Nice to see you again too Kook.”Aera bounced on her toes watching us have confrontation, unaware of the negative connotations.

Truth is you hadn’t seen Jungkook since you left for college and you hadn’t planned on seeing him ever again...that is until relationships fell apart, your roommate left and things got hard to pay for, and you were two bills away from being homeless. the job up at university paid $9.50 an hour while the busy Jeons still offered $12.00 the choice was clear. Take a little break, live with family, get back on your feet, and try again. But little did you know Jungkook decided to stay local with his schooling.All this aside the work was easy since Aera had grown a bit, but the thought of dealing with the person that made your life hell for four years made you want to quit daily.

“Can I do your nails Too?!” “No Aera, now be cute and get me something to drink.” He orders putting his feet on the coffee table eyeing you up and down,disgustingly. “No Aera I’ll get it.” You grabbed her shoulder. “No y/n! I’ll do it, I’ll do it quickly!” Setting free she bolted for the kitchen.

“So, you went to college got broke and came back sniveling to my rich parents?” You rolled your eyes, looking in the direction of the kitchen for any sign of Aera. “I thought you would’ve out grown your asshole phase, that’s very high school of you Kook.” He scoffed defensively, “and you using babysitting as your main income is high school of you, what happened your little rapper boyfriend leave you high and dry?” “You shut the fuck up.” You snapped back my reflex. He held his hands up in defense, “Suga blew up and left you in the shit show not my fault.” We argued in hushed tones as Aera ran back into sight.

“Here you go kookie!” She handed Jungkook the can of Coke, heaving for air. “Aera this is warm, cold...I want something cold, go try again.” He handed her the can, “oh okay Oppa sorry!” And off she was back down the hall. He turned back to me, “why’d he leave you...couldn’t make him bust?” you tried to hide it but his words stung, you’d been avoiding anything to do with Yoongi since he’d ghosted you weeks before you left for college. Bigger things waited for him in the world of fame, and you weren’t in the blueprint.

“Fuck you Jungkook.” “Come try it bitch.” Smirking he was satisfied with himself as you stood almost defeated. “Oh I forgot you’re scared of sex.” “Leave the high school rumors behind...ran out a material? Maybe you should get out more.” He rolled his eyes scoffing, “shut up before I make you.” “You like to pretend I’m still afraid you...make me, little boy...since you insist on being one.”

Jungkook’s come back was cut short by the thumping of Aera’s feet. “Kookie!Kookie! Ice! I got it all by myself!” She gave the cup of ice to Jungkook and then the Coke. “Good job, now pour it.” He handed them back and you took it from her small clutches much to Jungkook’s disliking. You poured him the drink, pushing his feet off the small table and placing the glass. “She’s not your little slave Jungkook.” He kept eye contact picking up the glass, “you’re right she’s not, you...go get me a coaster now or you’re fired.” His eyebrow arched cockily, his free hand waving you away. “As if! You can’t fire me Jungkook.” He got Aera sitting her on the couch beside him as she caught her breath. “Is that so? Try me, my parents might have hired you but you work for us...now work.” His gaze alone told you he wasn’t playing with you anymore.

Angered you stormed to kitchen pulling a coaster from the table before swiftly Turing on your heels, almost jumping out of you skin as you met face to face with Jungkook. “What the fuck do you want now?” “You said some shit I didn’t like.” You threw the coaster back on the marbled table, “I wish you’d grow up already.” You atempt to go past him but his muscular arm halts your plans. “I have to go do my job-” “I put on her show she’ll be good for the next hour.”

You don’t remember Jungkook being so brooding he looked down at you, his new tall posture slightly off putting yet attractive. “What now, you wanna talk it out?” You walked away siting at the island, “I’ll leave you be if you leave me to do my job Kook.” He came behind you, trapping you in his arms. Tattoos, he’d change a lot but not enough to leave you alone.

“I see you came and got the coaster, scared of me now?” What an ass, “no I need this job.” He hummed from behind you, no sign of him letting you go. “You know y/n, you’ve grown quite a bit.” You became more and more uncomfortable by the second, his breathing became deeper. “I’m aware, so have you.” Rudely he became handsy, groping your breast earning a shocked reaction. “Jungkook please-” “scared of me?” He squeezed you with a little too much force making you give a Yelp, he had you trapped, you were nothing but a game to him. “Shhh shh don’t want to startle my baby sister while she rests...that wouldn’t be very babysitter like of you now would it?”

Silent what could you even say? He had you trapped, your position less than hopeless he’d made you feel small and that’s exactly what he wanted. He’s always wanted that ever since you’d met him, and he always succeeds. He intruded under your top, skating his chilled hand over your skin leaving cold bumps in his wake he held your bra covered breast.

You griped his unexposed wrist trying at escape, knowing fully how downhill this could get. “Oh is the brave girl afraid?” “N-no your hands are cold as Ice Jungkook...please stop.” You lied continuing to push his muscular arm. “Oh? Let me warm them for you.” He removed his hand from the island almost causing you to topple over. Reaching down he found himself with his hand now between your legs fiddling with the pant button. “Jungkook! Please no!” His hand along your chest he pulled you back into his sculpted figure.

“You must not value your job as much as you say, scream again and you’ll be broke and fucked over and to think I actually liked you a bit.” He came to your ear, sniffing your hair eerily. “Little did I know how much of a bitch you were, I loved you when you were shy.” He finally got through your button, getting to your panties he gave you a two fingered massage along your core, you strained not to react to the unwanted pleasure. “Look at you pathetic and wet I bet you’re so needy I could make you cum right here.” He began to focus his nimble fingers on your aching clit. “Fucking stop it.” You could only whimper. “Why should I, we’re old enough now and you’re sopping through your panties I know you want it.”

He invaded under your bra, fondling your hardening bud. “I loved you when you were weak and innocent...I know she’s hiding deep inside of you, the little girl that would cry over me-”

“Miss y/n! I’m tired!” Her voice softly called from the living room. Saved by an angel, finally Jungkook stoped his assault backing off of you with a groan. “You’ll meet me in my room when she’s in bed, or else.” He grumbled leaving you behind to collect yourself, how could bad get so much worse?

#bts smut #bts angst #bts reactions #bts scenarios #bts yandere #dark!bts #jungkook #yandere bts #min yoongi #yandere masterlist #yandere!jungkook #dark!bts x you #dark!jungkook #bully!jungkook #bully!bts #yandere!bts x you. #bts x reader #bts x you #bts headcanons #yandere yoongi #Yoongi #hobi #Jin #Joon #Jimin #taehyung #guk jeonjungkook #guk

[parkersbliss]

Toast | P. Parker

pairing: Peter Parker X Female Reader

warnings: no-no words, mean girls, me attempting to write about chemistry class when I have never taken it, inaccurate representations of teacher

wc; 2.5K

synopsis: no matter how many times she tries to ruin your reputation, Peter is always there to save you.

a/n: I got really carried away with this oops??

Masterlist | Taglist | Prompt List

—

It was obvious that Daisy didn't like you. Anyone within a mile radius could tell by the seething glares she gave you. It wasn't like you did anything to provoke her, at least, not that you knew of. As far as you were concerned, she just didn't like you, always trying to get on your nerves somehow, but you were always taught to be kind to everyone and you were, even to Daisy, which was a plus because it pissed her off. She was sweet to all of your friends, especially Peter, in fact, she seemed very interested in Peter. But that wasn't any of your business, and Peter clearly expressed his distaste to her. Which is funny because, if anything, everyone loved Daisy. Boys and girls begged to go on dates with her. And if you didn't like her like that, you probably wanted to be her. Well except you, Peter, Ned, Betty, and MJ.

"I heard she's not actual blonde," Betty gossiped, sitting down next to MJ who snorted at her comment.

"That would explain why her hair looks a bit off."

You didn't make any commentary, shugging you pick up your apple and bite into it. Peter sits down next to you, bumping his shoulder against yours.

"Hi Peter," You said.

"Hi beautiful," He replies, giving you a quick kiss on the cheek. The two of you weren't big on kissing in public, it was just, not weird, but you didn't want to share something like that in front of others.

"Gross," MJ joked, looking up from her book and offering her friends a smile.

"at least I don't suck her face off like every other couple here," Peter said, nodding his head to a random couple that was practically fucking. MJ gags, turning back toward her book and tuning out the world again. Peter wordlessly gives you his hand, knowing you just liked to hold and fidget with it. There were many perks to dating Peter and this was one of them, he just knew. You all sat there talking about the day and upcoming projects when there was a clicking of heels.

"Here comes the demon queen," Betty muttered, rolling her eyes as she excuses herself to throw her lunch away. Ned stifles a laugh at her remark as Daisy approaches Peter.

"Peter!" Daisy exclaimed and you have to try not to die at the sound of her overly enthusiastic voice.

"Hi Daisy," Peter said, not matching her tone. Instead, his voice was monotone, mouth set in a straight line as he greeted the blonde. She makes no notice and ignores the rest of your friends, keeping her focus on Peter. You squeeze his hand softly and he squeezes back in reassurance.

"Did you want something?" He asked, the faintest hint of annoyance in his voice. Daisy smiles, twisting a lock of her blonde (well, maybe not blonde) hair around her finger and batting her eyelashes at Peter, "No, I just wanted to talk with you. As friends." She glances at you gauging for your reaction, but you make none. She frowns, only for a second, before squeezing between you and Peter, practically shoving you off your seat.

"Sorry, didn't see you there," Daisy grins.

You smile at her, knowing very well she was just trying to get you to snap, "It's okay!" You said, making sure you sounded extra cheery and not all bothered. "I should get to Calc anyway! I'll meet you there, Peter?"

Peter nods his head and you pick up your lunch, tossing the remains into the trash before exiting the room, leaving Daisy fuming.

...

"How do you do it, Peter?" You ask breathlessly. You wanted to collapse, body feeling like it was going to shut down at any minute. And somehow Peter was still going at it, was he even sweating? Your boyfriend laughs, slowing down the smallest bit.

You whine, "Peter, seriously, I can't take this!"

Peter stops, crossing his arms over his chest as he waits for you to catch up with him.

"You're so dramatic, baby," He said, bumping you.

"Oh I'm sorry, Peter, but some of us don't have freaking superpowers!" You huffed, finally catching your breath. MJ jogs past you guys, sticking out her tongue, "Slowpokes!"

Peter rolls his eyes, "That's just because (Y/N) here can't take it."

"You're right, I can't. You might as well carry me," You sigh dramatically, putting a hand to your forehead and pretending to collapse.

Peter fake gasps, getting down on his knees next to you, "Oh no, whatever shall I do?"

"I can't go any further, you must carry me!"

Peter laughs beside you, "Oh my poor baby."

"Indeed, very poor." You stick out your bottom lip, forming a pout.

The P.E teacher blows their whistle, pointing at the two of you and you both scramble to get up and start jogging again. You maintain a steady pace this time, Peter slowing down enough to stay by your side. Your hands occasionally brush together from your proximity. Eventually, you get fed up with it and just grab his hand, making Peter blush. You continue to run, too caught up in the way your footsteps fall in perfect sync together, hands swinging beside each other, too notice a foot stuck in the middle of your path. Your legs fall out from beneath you and Peter grips your hand a bit tighter, trying to pull you back towards him, but instead trips himself and loses his grip on you. The pavement smacks down on your skin and you hiss at the feeling of torn skin.

"Shit, shit, shit," Peter panics, crouching beside you. "Are you okay? That was a dumb question, you're bleeding. Okay, do you think you broke anything?"

You shake your head no, looking up to see the source of the foot, you're not surprised when you see Daisy. Peter follows your gaze, looking at the blonde, she notices.

"Oh, I'm so sorry! I didn't see you there," She said.

Peter's gaze hardens, "Yeah right, Daisy."

"What do you mean?"

"You obviously did it on purpose," Peter calls her out, a bit fed up with the way she treats his girlfriend. You rest an arm on his bicep, a silent reminder that it was okay. He turns toward you and you give him a reassuring smile, "Whatever, Daisy. Just get the coach, please."

She scoffs, giving you a dirty look, but leaving to retrieve the teacher.

"You shouldn't let her treat you like that, babe," Peter said, sweeping a few strands of hair out of your face.

"It's fine, plus, now I get to have you carry me bridal style to the infirmary."

Peter chuckles, picking you up in his arms, "lucky girl, you are."

"The luckiest."

...

Peter scribbled down the equation from the board into his notebook, glancing back up to make sure it was correct.

"Tell me it again," You said, leaning over his shoulder to read the instructions. Peter repeats the chemical mixture to you and you count the tubes and check there labels, ensuring you had everything.

"Okay, yup, we have all the ingredients."

Peter gives you a small smile, "let's get started then." He picks up the first chemical, checking the label, before pouring it into the small beaker. You step back letting your boyfriend do the work because the last time you tried it you almost burnt your hand. Peter grabs two more tubes, mixing them before lifting the glass beaker and inspecting it. The mixture is a bright purple color like the instructions said it would be.

"Does it look purple to you, babe?" Peter asked.

"No, Parker, it looks fucking green," you said. Peter rolls his eyes, sticking his tongue out at you. "God, you're so helpful. I don't know what I'd do without you."

You give Peter an innocent smile, "You'd be a mess."

"Says the one that almost burnt her hand the last time we did a lab."

"It was one time."

"Don't forget the toast."

"Do not bring my toast into this Parker."

You two stare at each other for a minute before bursting out laughing, causing the entire classroom to look at the two of you, haunched over in laughter. Peter catching his breath only to look back up at you, your face scrunched in laughter and doubling over again. Your teacher coughs loudly and you both try to hold in your giggles.

"Care to explain what's so funny?"

"Toast!" You blurt out, throwing you and Peter into another fit of laughter.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Peter said, "we're almost finished, I swear."

Your teacher only nods, knowing you and Peter were very trustworthy students. Just young and in love. You and Peter finally compose yourselves, Peter giggling as he picks up the beaker and places it carefully above the burner. The mixture bubbles a bit, while Peter using a gloved hand, scans his notes for further directions.

"It says here to-"

"(Y/N)!" A high pitched voice yells, making you sigh quietly. Peter notices your face and finds your hand, squeezing it lightly. You turn around, painting on a somewhat smile, "Yeah Daisy?"

She glances down at her feet, shuffling them a bit, "Look I know we're not friends, but I could really use help on this lab and you're really smart?"

Peter's head peeks over your shoulder, his hand discreetly pulling you against him as he pecks your shoulder, "She seems serious."

You hum lightly, removing his hands from your waist, which Daisy takes no notice of as she's too busy pretending her heels are much more interesting.

"I'll help."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

Daisy smiles at you and leads you over to her table, leaving Peter to complete the lab himself, but it's not like you were doing anything other than keeping him entertained. You glance at your notes, gathering the proper ingredients, and helping Daisy to mix them. Surprisingly, she's nice towards you, her normal hostile personality disappearing. You turn around after mixing the last ingredients into the beaker, scanning your notes for further instructions.

"Give a good shake," You mumble to yourself. Unbeknownst to you, when your back is turned Daisy drops another chemical into the beaker, a small sizzling sound coming from it, causing you to turn around, "What was that?"

"Just one of the other bunsen burners, we shake the mixture and then heat it, right?"

You nod your head, opening your mouth to give her further instructions when Peter crosses over.

"Hey guys," He said.

"Hi," You reply, turning to face him and missing the way Daisy rolls her eyes. "we were just about to start shaking and then heating it."

Peter nods, "Don't let me interrupt you two."

"You can start shaking Daisy," You offer, but she shakes her head and passes you the beaker.

"I'm good, thanks."

You shrug and begin to gently swirl the mixture, rotating your wrist in a counter-clockwise motion. When nothing happens, you set it down on the counter to turn on the burner. You let it heat up for a bit before reaching to grab the beaker when Peter stops you.

"Wait," He whispered. You give him a quizzical look and he motions towards the bubbles forming in your mixture.

"Did you mix this enough?" Daisy asked, approaching the beaker.

"Yeah, I di-"

She scoffs, sharply cutting you off, "No, you didn't. I should've done it myself." She picks up the beaker, doing the same motion with her wrist but a little more aggressive.

"Daisy that's not a very good idea," You warn.

"Why? Just give it a few more seconds and then I'll hand it to you."

"Daisy I don't-"

"God, do you ever shut up?" She asked, annoyed. You take a step back, frowning at her outburst, but you knew her better. Peter grabs your waist pulling you back toward him.

"Stupid mixture," Daisy mumbled, looking into the beaker when suddenly it erupts dousing her in bright purple foam. She screams, dropping the beaker on the ground, spraying the rest of the mix all over the floor.

"Oh my god," You said, covering your mouth.

Daisy stomps her foot on the ground, the liquid splashing as she wipes the foam from her face.

"You bitch!" She snarls, stalking toward you.

"I didn't-"

"You knew what I did!"

Your eyebrows pinch together, "I- what? No, I was trying to tell you it was going to explode."

"You knew I spiked the mixture so you made sure I'd end up with it!"

"You did what?"

Daisy shrieks again, "why are you always messing up my plans? Can't something bad happen to you once!"

Peter steps in front of you, pushing you behind him.

"Don't talk to her like that."

Daisy's eyes burn into Peter and she smirks, "You know she likes you right? She has this huge crush on you, It's painfully obvious. God, I feel so bad for her."

You and Peter both look at each other before he turns back toward a fuming Daisy, "I sure hope so, otherwise this would be really awkward."

"What?" She asked stupidly.

"It would be kind of weird if my girlfriend didn't like me," Peter shrugs, a smile playing on his lips.

Dasiy clenches and unclenches her jaw at that, "You're dating?"

Peter nods grabbing your hand in his, "didn't you know? After all, it was painfully obvious." He mocked her.

Daisy clicks her tongue, turning away from you both.

"Miss Lockwood, care to explain?" The teacher inquires.

"Ask them," She sassed, giving you and Peter a dirty look and stomping out of the room, but not before she slips. Her feet fly into the air as she lands in her mess, making her cry out in frustration.

"Oh for fuck's sake!" She screamed. The teacher gave her a cold look to which she replied, "Detention, Detention, I know." Before finally exiting the room.

...

"No way!" Betty exclaimed as you and Peter told her what had gone down in chemistry yesterday.

"Karma's a real bitch," MJ laughed, for once not having a book in her face.

You all laugh with her as Peter slings an arm around your shoulder, pulling you against him, "At least she doesn't bother my girl here anymore, all she does is give us pathetic glares."

You slap Peter's chest and he lets out a small ow, rubbing the area.

"Be nice!" You hiss.

"After all the shit she put you through, I think I'm being quite polite with my comment."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night."

"It's normally your kisses."

"Ew Peter!" You said, pushing him away from you.

Peter purses his lips out, "C'mon, let me kiss you!"

"No way mister!"

"Kiss her! Kiss her!" Ned, Betty, and MJ chant.

You roll your eyes at their childish antics, "You're not helping."

"Not trying too," Ned replied.

Peter takes the chance to gently cup your face and press a kiss to your lips. Much to your dismay, you kiss back, hands flying to the back of his neck as his lips press against yours.

"You're gross," You said after he pulled away, crossing your arms over your chest and sticking your tongue out at him.

Peter chuckles, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek as you break into a grin, cheeks on fire.

"Love you too baby."

— END —

🏷 Peter Parker Taglist: @theolwebshooter @thegirlwiththeimpala @multi-universe21 @honeybittersweet @bibbidibobbidibarnes @abitofeverythinggg @cams-lynn @runway-to-my-aid @peterspideyy @yoinkyourheart @t-monosapiens-h @throughparisallthroughrome @hollandsamor @starlight-starks @quaksonhehe @keenmarvellover @ducks

Strickthrough- unable to tag you

#peter parker x y/n #peter parker drabble #peter parker x you #peter parker oneshot #peter parker fluff #peter parker imagine #peter parker angst #peter parker headcanon #peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker blurb #tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #tom holland angst #tom holland fluff #tom holland headcanon #tom holland drabble #tom holland one shot #tom holland imagine #tom holland blurb #spiderman x you #spiderman far from home #spiderman: hoco #spiderman x y/n #spiderman x reader #spiderman imagine #spiderman oneshot

[katehuntington]

Title: Black Dog - part three Word count: ±2700 words Episode summary: When Sam gets an anonymous phone call with information about his father, Dean receives a text message with coordinates to different location. The brothers clash and split up, one following orders, the other   trusting his instincts. Meanwhile, in the wilderness of Cascade Range, Washington State, Zoë loses grip on a personal case and is forced to confront her demons. Without back up, this might very well turn out to be her final hunt. Part three summary: Two leads point into different directions. Which one are the Winchester brothers going to follow? Episode warnings: Dark! NSFW, 18+ only! Angst, gore, violence, character death. Description of blood, injury and  medical procedures. Supernatural creatures/entities, mentions of demon possession. Swearing, smoking, weaponry. Descriptions of  torture and murder. Illegal/criminal practices. Mentions of nightmares and flashbacks. Descriptions of suicidal thoughts and tendencies, depression, panic attacks, hallucinations. Author’s note: Beta’d by @winchest09​​​ & @deanwanddamons​​​​. Thanks, girls!

Supernatural: The Sullivan Series Masterlist

S1E03 “Black Dog” Masterlist

     Dean gives his Chevrolet Impala a final clean up and looks at the end result.      Ronny nods satisfied, too. “Good as new.”      They mechanics carefully beat out the small dent in the lid and restored the paint with a polisher. The lock of the trunk took some time to replace, but now it closes perfectly. 

     “Thanks, man,” Dean says gratefully, offering him some money for the work.      “Any time. Put that away. I owe you Winchesters more than that,” Ronny reminds him. “Sure you guys don’t want a beer?”      Dean hesitates, but then shakes his head. “I’d love to catch up, but we should get going. The world isn’t rid of all evil motherfuckers just yet.”      Ronny chuckles at that. “Fair enough. Good to see you again, though.”      “You too. Take care, Ron,” the oldest Winchester brother returns.

     The ex-hunter retreats back into his garage, and Dean glances at the trunk for the second time and smiles satisfied. He’s glad he got it fixed. The clunking sound every time they hit a pothole was driving him crazy, and with enough arsenal for a small military operation inside, he wasn’t really keen on leaving it unlocked either. 

     As he takes a look around the abandoned street, he realizes he’s missing the tall individual that usually occupies the passenger’s seat. Where the hell did Sam go? Instinctively, Dean scans the area, uneasiness evident in his stomach, a sensation which arises ever since he was a kid, whenever he loses sight of his little brother. Then he spots him a bit further down the road. He’s on the phone with someone, and for a second he wonders if it’s Zoë he’s having a conversation with.

     Waiting for his brother to return, he leans against his car, shoving his hands in his pockets. The sun feels nice and warm on his back as it burns away the coolness of the night. Now that he has nothing to do for a moment, his thoughts sneak off. He doesn’t like it one bit, but he can’t help but think of the huntress they crossed paths with a little under a week ago. He may pretend that he doesn’t give a shit, but he has to admit that she has been on his mind more than a couple of times. Not that he likes her, fuck no, but Sullivan left an impression that has him wondering. She has been through more in the twenty-five years that she has walked this earth than most endure in an entire lifetime. Maybe that is why he deep down cares; he can relate to her.

     Dean exhales, not dwelling too long on the reason behind the intrigue. Instead, he wonders if Sam’s presumption is actually true. The fierce Zoë Sullivan being in deep shit; he can barely picture it. She always seems in control, even when things don't go as planned. She caught him off guard. He, Dean Winchester, can you fuckin’ believe that? The older Winchester sibling rolls his harmed shoulder, testing its mobility. She shot me, for fuck’s sake. 

     Even though he has been in the field longer than she has, Zoë seems to expertly know her way around the world of monsters that is their reality. She’s a bright girl, skilled, fast, fearless. She has every aspect of a perfect hunter. But after those last words back in Paragould, he was left with the impression that the battle she was going towards, is one she didn’t expect to win. It truly felt like a final goodbye. A disturbing question pops up in his head; did he make a mistake not going after her? The two guys they saved from a werewolf in Waco probably don’t think so. 

     Dean stares ahead, pulling at his bottom lip with his teeth while contemplating his choices. Maybe they should go after her anyway, see if they can pick up her trail. North is indeed a big place, but then again, a hot chick on a Harley Davidson would stand out. It’s a long shot, but if they play this right, they may be able to find her. 

     The matter escapes his mind when he feels his phone vibrating, the buzzing device startling him slightly. Somewhat annoyed by his own reflex, the hunter takes his Motorola and notices the small icon of an envelope in the right upper corner; he has received a text message. It’s probably Erin, his hook up back in Waco, who had to wake up alone this morning. She must be wondering where the man she met in a bar three days prior has gone. But when Dean opens his inbox, his eyes widen in shock. 

     At the top of the list of incoming messages, it says ‘Dad’.

     Dean’s heart has picked up speed, now pounding twice as fast than it was seconds ago. Last time he checked, his father’s phone was inactive, and now there’s a message coming in from that number? Different scenarios flash through his mind, not sure if he should prepare for good or bad news. With shaky fingers, he opens the text.

     Job: 48°13’11.00”N 121°41’4045”W

     Dean exhales, still staring at his cell. He can’t fucking believe it. John disappeared from the face of the earth, nowhere to be found, and after all this time he sent a few numbers and letters. The older Winchester brother huffs out a laugh. It doesn’t matter, though. Relief frees Dean from the crippling worry that he has tried to stuff down for over a month now, but kept him up at night nonetheless. This text confirms what he’s been hoping for; Dad is alive.

     Thrilled, Dean turns around and glances down the street, noticing Sam, who hastens towards the car. He can’t wait to share the news, knowing they have both been so desperate for a breakthrough. 

     “We’ve gotta go,” they both say at the same time.      “Me first,” Dean demands, childish.      “What are you? Seven?” Sam huffs, raising an eyebrow to match with the sass. Despite his accusation, he counters in the same manner. “What I’ve just heard is bigger.”      “Bigger than this?” Dean brags while flashing a grin, victoriously handing his brother the Motorola.

     Curiosity wins and Sam takes it, attentively reading the message. His eyes narrow, but then his jaw falls open when he realizes who the sender is. John’s youngest son isn’t impressed, though. In fact, what shows on the display infuriates him. 

     “That’s it?” he scoffs, agitated, giving the phone back to his brother. “After a month of silence, that’s what he gives us?”      “Sam, don’t you realize what this means? He’s okay!” Dean brings to mind. “Don’t bitch about this.”      “Just because he’s able to send us a text message, doesn’t mean that he’s okay. We’re not even sure it’s him!” Sam returns bitterly.      “Oh, come on. This is so Dad. One word and coordinates, that’s straight up Marine Corps right there. It’s more convincing than his fuckin’ signature,” the older brother argues.

     “And what the hell are we supposed to do with this? Trust him blindly and do a job he can’t find the time for because he’s hunting whatever the thing is that killed Mom?” Sam assumes, his arms flying up before he lets them come down to his sides again.      “Exactly,” Dean states, matter of factly. “Don’t you see, Sam? This is what I’ve been telling you. He doesn’t want to be found, he wants us to hunt.”

     Dean opens the passenger side door and rummages in the dashboard locker. When he straightens his back, he pulls out a brown notebook; it’s John’s journal.      “This book. This is dad’s single most valuable possession. Everything he knows about every evil thing is in here. He could’ve taken it with him, but he didn’t. He’s passed it on to us.” Dean looks deep into his brother's eyes while he points at the leather bound book that is the representation of the Bible to the Winchesters. “Dad’s journal, the text... Dad is telling us he wants us to do what we were trained for.”

     “You know what I want? I want to find him,” Sam returns determined, handing back the phone.      “And how the fuck were you planning to achieve that, huh?” Dean returns.      “I don’t need a plan, I already know where he is,” the younger brother states.

     Puzzled, Dean stares at him, waiting for an explanation. There has been zero contact between their old man and Sam for years,  and now all of a sudden he has figured out where John is at?      “How?” he questions, suspicion rising.      “I just received a call. He’s in Tennessee. In Nashville to be precise,” his sibling states.      Dean frowns. “A call? From who?”

     The shrug of Sam’s shoulders is nonchalant. “I think she might be a hunter or something.”      “She? Does this mystery lady have a name?” Dean questions further, trying to get details while frustration bubbles in his chest, triggered by his brother’s short answers.      “She didn’t give it, but it doesn’t matter. We’re going to Tennessee,” Sam decides.

     Dean laughs out loud, dropping the journal on the passenger’s seat before he turns away. Then he returns to glare at Sam as if he just made a joke.      “You wanna go to fucking Nashville based on an anonymous call? Did the sun fry your brain or something? This could be a fucking trap, Sam!” Dean shouts, indignant.      But his sibling is determined. “I don’t care. If he’s there, I’m going.” 

     Dean steps closer and halts right in front of him. He has to look up to stare into the eyes of his taller brother, but that doesn’t make him any less intimidating. 

     “Dad has given us an order,” he growls, his words spoken in a low tone.      “I said: I. don’t. care,” Sam battles him.      “Well I do, you stubborn dumbass!” Dean counters with a raised voice. “What you are planning to do is fucking dangerous! Dad doesn’t want you on his tail, you’ll blow his cover!”

     “You’re calling me a dumbass?! Dad is after an incredibly powerful monster by himself, alone! He’s the dumbass for not accepting our help! We already lost Mom, I lost Jess, I’m not going to lose him too. I want answers, I want a piece of that son of a bitch that ruined our lives and I want it right fucking now! If Dad doesn’t want me there, that’s his problem!” Sam shouts angrily.

     “You’re going against him?” Dean isn’t impressed with the outbreak, and slightly shakes his head. “Oh right, I forgot. That’s what you always do; the exact opposite of what he asks!”  he continues cynically.      “He doesn’t ask. He orders,” his brother corrects. “And you follow those orders like a fucking lapdog.”      “It doesn’t matter how he tells us what to do, Sam! He’s our God damn father, so you better suck it up and fucking LISTEN!!!”

     Dean is sure one of Ronny’s neighbors is going to emerge from one of the houses, telling them to shut up and take this argument elsewhere, instead of fighting it out in the middle of the street. He doesn’t care, however. His little brother has forgotten his place, and he needs to set him straight.

     “I do whatever the hell he tells me to do because I trust him, because I respect him, which is something I’m gonna strongly advise you to do as well, because your attitude fucking stinks,” Dean lectures, his moss green eyes penetrating, fire burning in his irises. “Now get in the fucking car, because we’re going to drive to wherever those coordinates lead us to.”

     Puffing his chest while straightening his back to make himself seem even taller, Sam crosses his arms. His older sibling might think he has all the authority, but he’s not a little kid anymore who he can boss around. Those days are long gone. He thought his departure to Stanford taught Dean a lesson or two, but apparently he needs to remind his brother that he plays by his own rules, and no one else's.      “I’m not going with you,” he decides, standing his ground.

     For a moment, Dean just stares at him, giving him a second to reconsider that conclusion, but Sam doesn’t even blink. Their gazes battle, the air between them almost too thick to breathe, rivalry carving a deep canyon between the two.      “I’m gonna give you a choice,” Dean snarls. “You can come with me and solve that case, or you can go fuck yourself.”

     Sam gulps, but stands his ground. His facial expression doesn’t change as he steps back, away from his brother, and heads over to the back of the Impala without breaking eye contact, until he opens the trunk to grab his duffel. The glare Dean receives when he slams the lid closed says enough; he’s not coming along for the ride. 

     Stunned, Dean stares at him and huffs in disbelief. Un-fucking-believable. He has always known Sam was stubborn, but now he takes the cake. Disappointed, the older brother shakes his head. This is the second time Sam has chosen a different path and leaves him without even batting an eye, but it scares Dean just as much as when he left and went to college. He’s not alright with what he’s about to do, but he can’t give in. He has to listen to his father.      Frustratingly, he pulls open the door of the Impala. “Goodbye, Sam.”

     Trying to hide his unpleasant surprise, the man left in the road watches him. He didn’t expect this, Dean taking off without him, but then again, how could he not expect a soldier to follow orders from his general? It doesn’t change anything, though. He is dead set on investigating this lead and finding his father.

     The man who is about to put a distance between himself and the one person he swore to never part with again, glances in the rearview mirror. He wishes he hadn’t, because the coldness in Sam’s hazel eyes seems foreign, yet familiar. As Dean starts the engine, he realizes he is either having a major deja-vu, or is reliving one of the worst days of his life. Despite the painful pressure that’s building in his chest and the panic that floods his brain, he lowers his right foot on the gas pedal, and the car rolls away. He doesn’t drive off as fast as he normally would, because he’s fighting the urge to turn around. Pained, he glances in his mirror again.      “C’mon, Sam. Move,” he begs.

     But Sam doesn’t even lift a finger, and he remains in the exact same spot. Then he does move, but not in the way Dean hoped. His little brother turns his back on him and heads towards downtown Hillsboro, in the opposite direction.

With a deep sigh, Dean shakes his head, clamping his left hand around the wheel until his knuckles turn white.       “Stubborn bastard,” he sighs.

     His jaw clenches, as West Elm Street flows over in Route 22 and the landscape around him changes. Small homes and sheds make room for stretched out farmlands. But he doesn’t notice the scenery. His conscience is fighting his heart. He wants to hit the brakes and pull the car into a 180° so badly, but he has to listen to his father. Never in his life has Dean done anything else than that, disobedience not being a word one could find in his dictionary. Yet in this situation, both of the options are pitfalls. It doesn’t matter which way he goes, he will make a mistake either way. Because the one line that his father drilled in his mind over and over again keeps haunting him. 

     Take care of Sammy. 

     He grinds his teeth, but continues to drive further and further away, his upbringing leaving him no choice. The hunter has made his decision; he’s going to find the location of those coordinates and do the job his Dad has given him. He knows what he’s doing, he’s just hoping Sam does too, because if something happens to his little brother, Dean knows he will never be able to forgive himself.

Well, shit. The boys have gone separate ways. Who do you think will find what he’s looking for?

Thank you so much for reading. I appreciate every single one of you, but if you  do want to give me some extra love, you are free to reblog my work or  buy me coffee (Link in bio at the top of the page)

Read part four here

#Supernatural: the Sullivan Series #Dean Winchester fanfiction #sam winchester fanfiction #Dean Winchester angst #Sam Winchester angst #dean fanfiction #sam fanfiction #Dark!Supernatural #Supernatural #SPN #Dean Winchester #Sam Winchester #Zoë Sullivan #Dean Winchester x OFC #sam winchester x ofc #Dean x OFC #Sam x OFC #Supernatural fanfiction #SPN fanfiction #supernatural series #SPN series #Dean Winchester series #Sam Winchester series #STSS #Black Dog #1x03 Black Dog #Kate Huntington

[yaimlight]

For The Sake Of Writing

A/N: I am struggling with this, with writing in general right now. Can’t find the drive, the desire to do so and I have tried, many a time but nothing comes out, the page stays blank. So I put it all away and decided to write something else, something completely different and unrelated to anything else but even this has been difficult, like pulling teeth to get the words on the page. I have no idea what this but I feel at least a little accomplished that I managed to get it out. I didn’t know what to do with it once finished but I thought I would share it with you guys. It’s not part of a fandom or anything, it’s just me and whatever came out and though I may not be 100% with it I still hope that maybe you will enjoy it.

Love is not the morel of the story. It is not a fix all or a balm to sooth deep wounds and it is definitely not an excuse for any wrongs done. It doesn’t ride in on a white horse and save the day, making everything perfect and happy and all sunshine and rainbows. It doesn’t make a bad person suddenly good and nor does it render all wrong doing excusable.

Love is the biggest lie the world was ever sold. All it ever brings is pain and suffering and people welcome it with open arms and eager smiles.

Idiots the lot of them.

Though you supposed you shouldn’t knock it, people’s misplaced desire for love was what kept you in a job. Well, sort of. You were what came after, when hearts were broken, people’s pried bruised and their reputations damaged. Funny how that was normally the one that hurt the most. People claimed that love was everything yet it was their reputation and wealth they cared more about. When push comes to shove they always picked the material things in life, dressing it up as something other than greed, like that made their actions better, excusable.

Sighing you focused your attention back on the room across the street. The blinds were wide open, the two people as clear as day as you adjusted the scope. You would think they would be a little better at hiding this kind of shit, considering the illicitness of it all but their idocity made your job easier. They looked so happy, the women smiling as she pulled the mans shirt off him, the two of them making quick work of stripping the other down to their underwear and trading passionate kisses and teasing touches.

Objectively the man was attractive with broad shoulders and rippling muscles, his skin perfectly smooth and tanned. It was clear to see he took care of himself, hours spent at the gym as well as in front of the mirror. You knew the type an you would bet money on him being a narcissist, more concerned with himself than the people he was pissing off along the way. He was young though, to caught up in the fact he had caught the eye of someone hot and rich. To young to think about the consequences of his actions. He was probably so fucking smug, landing a women at least a decade older than him that still looked like a model and had enough money not to even notice when hundreds of dollars started to disappear from her account, squirrelled away for a rainy day. Her husband on the other hand had noticed almost straight away and it hadn’t taken long to find out where it was going.

The women fell back on to the bed, the man crawling after her until he hovered over her. You could see the two of them smiling at each other, staring into each other’s eyes like they could see the whole universe there. He leant down, pressing his body against hers as they went back to kissing. Her hands sunk into his black hair, her wedding ring glinting in the light.

You readjusted your aim, lining up the shot as you focused on her ring finger. You breathed in, your finger pressing down and you breath out.

The glass cracked, her eyes going wide as the man slumped lifeless on top of her. A second passed, a beat of a heart. Just a moment where she lead there blood splattered and missing a finger, not understanding what had happened before everything settled and she started to scream. Frantically she shoved the dead body off of her before falling to the floor and scrambled away to a corner, screaming the whole time.

Huffing out in amusement you stepped away from the window and dropped down onto you knees next to your bag. You made quick work of taking your gun apart, placing every bit back into the correct slot without really having to look. Clipping the case shut you slung it over your shoulder, rising to your feet and heading towards the door without a backwards glance. The job was done, there was nothing left for you here now.

You took the stairs, slipping on your sunglasses and cap before shoving your gloved hands into you pockets. It was still sunny enough you could get away with it though dusk was starting to settle in but you would be far enough away by the time your attire started to become suspicious. For now you would blend in with the crowd, be able to slip away unnoticed and unremarkable amongst the other occupants of the building coming and going.

You took the train, skipping the nearest subway station and heading to the next one along, going in the completely wrong direction and changing lines twice, paying in cash and keeping your head down. You lost the glasses after half an hour, the hat an hour latter when you finally got on the right line and sank into one of the ratty sets with a sigh, your gun case safely between you legs. You didn’t worry about closing your eyes and tilting your head back, counting stops in your head and knowing that if someone tried anything you had a switch blade in your jacket pocket with their name on it. You must just give off that air of danger though because no one comes near you, not even taking the empty seats on either side of you but that was fine. It’s how you liked it.

It was dark when you finally got off the subway, hands still shoved into your pockets as you kept your head down and navigated the still busy streets. It didn’t take long for your destination to come into view, the glitzy looking hotel standing out amongst the boring and monochrome buildings next to it. You slipped round the back, smiling and exchanging greetings with the people you passed and slipped into character like you did every other night you came to your other job.

The building was alive, the hustle and bustle of activity having you weaving around people as you made your way through the busy corridors until you could slip into the locker room. It was just as busy in there, people getting ready for their shifts and seemingly being as loud as they possibly could. You let the sound was over you, blocking it out until it was almost like static in the background and focusing instead on the steady beat of your heart as you headed towards the back corner of the room. You stuffed your case in your locker, the black box fitting perfectly inside before pulling out your change of clothes and hanging the garment bag up on the door. It wasn’t idea but it wasn’t the first time you had brought a weapon here and you doubted it would be your last. You did try not to mix jobs, mix lives but on days like this it was unavoidable, you just hadn’t had the time to go home first.

Toeing off your shoes, you quickly stripped down to your underwear, folding your clothes nicely and placing them on to the small shelf, your shoes just fitting at the bottom of the locker next to your case. “Cutting it close tonight Harland,” a teasing voice came from behind and you scoffed, not even bothering to look as you pulled on the white blouse, deft fingers making quick work of the buttons. “You know I like to live dangerously,” you smirked, finally glancing over your shoulder to look at the women leant against the row of lockers next to yours.

Rosie huffed, rolling her eyes at you but her smile still stayed in place on her to red lips. She looked pristine in her black pencil skirt and white blouse, the cut low enough to just show of a hint of cleavage but not enough to be overtly suggestive. Her auburn hair was pulled up into a bun, her emerald bright eyes rimmed in perfectly applied eyeliner and her pale skin looking like porcelain. She looked the picture perfect representation of professionalism, what with her head held high and oozing confidence. Shame it was just a front, the woman was addicted to amphetamines and a borderline alcoholic who was just teetering on the edge of a full blown breakdown but at least she was normally fun to be around.

Turning back to your task you quickly rolled your stockings on, having barely snapped them into place before you were pulling on your own black pencil skirt, slipping on your black kitten heels at the same time and tucking your blouse in. The two of you chatter away about pointless shit as you finish getting ready, platting your hair and doing your makeup whilst Rosie tells you about her boyfriend and how much of a dick he is being about her work hours. You hum along but don’t really comment on the state of her most likely doomed relationship. You’ve had that conversation before and it hadn’t gone well. Lucky for her you had been willing to stick around and take her to the hospital instead of letting he choke on her own vomit. You had thought about it though.

She doesn’t seem to either notice or care that you don’t really participate in the conversation and as you take the lift up to the lobby you contemplate telling her that her precious boyfriend was screwing around with her sister just to get her to shut up but the headache it would bring you outweighed the satisfaction you would get at seeing the shock and hurt on her face. It wasn’t that you wanted to hurt her you just couldn’t stand the constant insistence that she loved the scumbag and their relationship was perfect. It made you want to smack her head against the nearest hard surface until she finally understood how stupid she was or passed out. Whatever one came first.

The lift doors dinged as they opened, Rosie finally falling silent as you both slipped into your rolls. You were on the clock now and it wouldn’t do to be caught gossiping about personal matters by the famous and affluent that frequented the hotel. No instead the two of you would smile and listen, taking in every little detail. You did it because information helped in your other line of work and you had even got wind of a contact or two from guests who didn’t seem to know the meaning of a private conversation. Rosie did it just for the gossip.

It didn’t take long to change over shifts, the list of requests and awaiting check ins surprisingly small. It meant a slow and easy night, only really having to deal with any calls that came from the demanding guests up above and that was fine. It was why you worked the night shifts anyway. You hardly had to interact with people face on and the mindless and repetitive activities brought you a kind of peace that you didn’t really get anywhere else. It‘s why you had stayed, originally getting the job to do recon on the rooms for a job but long after the women had been found dead and the body moved you found yourself reluctant to move on. So you hadn’t. You had an understanding with the owner anyway, having deposed of his abusive farther or him. As long as you didn’t kill anyone else in his hotel he didn’t care what you did and that suited you just fine.

As midnight crept closer a calm fell over the hotel. Most of the guests were sleeping now and those that weren’t were either still at the rooftop bar or would be out partying till the early hours. There had been no calls for the last hour, no idiots stumbling into the lobby and being loud and rude drunks that you wished you could stab in the face when they broke your serenity. Rosie had abandoned you as well, allegedly in search of coffee but you highly doubted that. Most likely she had slipped off to go make eyes at one of the bartenders in the lounge and score a shot of something. The point was that you were blissfully alone, with nothing but silence and admin to keep you company and it was perfect.

It didn’t last long.

The sound of the city beyond flooded the lobby as the doors were open, the warm night air spilling in and interfering with the air conditioning. As quickly as it had all come though it was gone, instead replaced by the steady thump of shoes hitting the tiled floor. Lamenting the loss of your solitude you kept you eyes on your screen, finishing up your notes on room 308 and the new spattering of complaints about its occupants. You didn’t look up as the person got closer, didn’t even acknowledge them when they came to a stop in front of the desk, highly unprofessional but you were technically busy. Surprisingly though they stood there in silence, patiently awaiting you to finish what you were doing. Shocking considering most would be huffing by now or impatiently ringing the bell, even hurling abuse at you.

It was odd, unusual and you weren’t sure how to deal with it so as you submitted the form you plastered a smile on and started the expected greeting as you looked up. “Welcome to the Hotel Astoria. How can I help you...” the words died on your lips, your smile falling as dread filled you. No. This couldn’t be happening. Not now. Not ever. You had been having such a good day as well.

Your fingers twitched towards the letter opener as you stared straight ahead, trying to work out how best to get rid of the man before you without it being noticed. Eyes like the summer sky stared back at you, endless and bright and almost impossible to pull your attention from but you managed it, letting your eyes slowly drag across the rest of him.

He had gotten older, now in his early thirties instead of his twenties but he still looked just as good. He was tall, with broad shoulders and well defined arm muscles that were straining at the sleeves of his black shirt. His skin was golden, sun kissed and oh so very tempting. His jaw was sharp, a light covering of stubble that gave him a rugged handsomeness apposed to the boyish charm you had known. He still had the same ridiculous haircut though, his blonde hair parted to the side with one side longer than the other, his fringe hanging just over his right eye and looking soft despite the amount of product he had probably used. He looked good, annoyingly so considering the time of night but despite all that it was his smile that held your attention, his lips twisted in a cocky smirk that left you wanting to punch him in the face. God you hated him.

Huffing in laughter Johnathon leant forward, resting his arms on the counter and tipping his head to he side slightly. Your fingers tightened around the letter opener, body tensing as you got ready to attack. “I see I still leave you speechless,” he teased, smirk getting wider and sounding oh so smug. You blinked, his words jogging you out of your stupor and you narrowed your eyes at him, lifting your head up higher to look down your nose at him. “Hardly, I was just trying to decide on the best way to dispose of your body.” You let the letter opener go, instead crossing your arms over your chest and schooling your features, trying not to give away how much you were panicking. He was an idiot, not a threat, not in that way at least.

“You always say the sweetest things,” he winked, exuding confidence as he flipped his fringe out of his eye. You had liked that about him once but now it had your jaw clenching and your fingers twitching with the desire to grab a fistful of his hair and smash his face into the marble countertop. “If you think that’s sweet wait until I tell you about how I’m going to stuff your body in the trash compactor,” you said, voice sickeningly sweet and a smile on your lips.

The idiot actually laughed at that, the sound rich and deep and you didn’t even know you had missed that sound until heard it once more. Huffing you shoved that thought down, trying to drown it under the anger you were currently feeling. He shouldn’t be here, couldn’t be here and yet he stood before you without a care in the world, acting as if this was all some big joke when in reality it was so much worse. “As charming as always. Going to finish it all of with a kiss,” he waggled an eyebrow at you, smirk getting impossibly wider and something inside you snapped.

You moved quickly, one hand darting down to grab the letter opener as the other shot out to grab at the front of his shirt and yanked him forward. His hands slapped down on the counter, his eyes going wide as you leant forwards and pressed the edge of the blade against the delicate skin of his throat. “You have five seconds to explain to me what the hell you are doing here before I shove this through your carotid and watch you choke on your own blood,” you hissed, pressing the blade harder against his throat and watching the way it bobbed as he swallowed. His eyes had gotten darker, his lips parted slightly and breathing deeply, a slight flush to his cheeks. You knew that look and it had no reason to be present in this situation.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” you hissed angrily, jerking away from him like he had burned you, dropping the letter opener on the counter with a clatter as you moved. He had the decency to look embarrassed if only slightly as he coughed nervously and stood up straighter, eyes darting around the room and rubbing at the back of his neck. He licked at his lips, your eyes tracking the movement before you even knew they were doing it. He let out a deep breath, “in my defence I didn’t know...” What ever he was going to say was cut off though as both of your attentions were pulled to the doors.

The doors opened once more, a warm breeze filling the space as a women stepped inside. She was stunningly beautiful, with long blonde hair and legs that seemed to go forever and a figure most women would be envious of. She looked like a model, like she had stepped right of the pages of some glossy magazine. “Fuck,” Johnathon mumbled and you tore you eyes away from the women working her way towards the desk to raise an eyebrow at him. He was finally starting to look worried but you didn’t think it was in regards to yourself.

“Sorry darling but you know how Cynthia is, I couldn’t just ignore her call,” she smiled, slipping up to Johnathon’s side and wrapping her arm through his before leaning down and pressing a kiss to his lips. Something twisted in your gut, dark and ugly as you watched them pull apart, the women beaming at Johnathon whilst he offered he a soft smile. You didn’t like it, whatever the feeling was you would have been quiet happy never to experience it again.

“So we good?” she asked, that ridiculously bright smile still on her lips. “Hum?” Johnathon hummed, looking at the other women in confusion and you had to fight the urge to snap out no, nothing was good. They needed to leave, he needed to leave. The two of you had had a deal and him being here was like throwing your kindness back in your face and spitting on it. The blonde tipped her head slightly towards you and he turned to you with a frown. You could practically see it when he realised what she had meant, his eyes widening and lips forming into a small ‘o’. “Oh, yeah, right,” he rushed out, laughing nervously as he turned to look at you.

You already knew what was coming, that heavy feeling of dread back again as you silently begged him not to do it. To say there was a mistake and take his arm candy and just leave before things got bad but you knew he wouldn’t, could see it in his eyes as his looked at you with genuine apology. “Johnathon Harland, checking in,” he mumbled, offering you a small smile and not for the first time this night you had to push down the urge to punch him.

Love was rotten, a twisted ugly thing and all it ever did was make every situation go from bad to worse. It made smart people make mistakes, act stupid and irresponsible when normally they were so calm and collected. Love ruined everything, made people weak, soft and once that set in you could never undo it. It set in like rot, leaving you crumbling into dust. In the end you were better off without it, were stronger for never knowing what it felt like to have that connection with another. It would save everyone a lot of pain, a lot of suffering and maybe the world would be better for it.

You really should have killed him when you were supposed to.

#writing problems #i hate this #my art is trash #lack of motivation #send help #writer's block #not fanfic #just me #original work