#for this third potential crush I felt nothing when imagining so that leads me to think it’s just general appreciation and liking

[osorcanine]

I was writing a post about a potential third crush but in writing it I realized it’s ‘I like you’ (general positive association) and not “I like you” (attraction/want of relationship) so.

Not a crush, but a good learning opportunity - now I have a better understanding of what attraction feels like (or rather, what it doesn’t)

#nine barks #I find the tip of ‘imagine doing x w them; how does it make u feel’ helpful #for this third potential crush I felt nothing when imagining so that leads me to think it’s just general appreciation and liking #and not like. attraction-liking

[jackrrabbit]

Sidekick /// Dabi x f!Reader x Shigaraki (18+)

Summary: During a rescue gone wrong, a rookie sidekick catches the attention of two villains.

A/N: Thanks for 1k followers!! This is the fic that made me create a smut blog/lowkey inspired this. imho this might be the spiciest thing I’ve ever written 😳 also wanted to call out @kazooli​ because this is highkey inspired by her lol thanks queen

Tags/warnings: quirk kink, reader’s quirk makes other quirks stronger, noncon, threesome, lots of foreplay, outdoor sex, mild overstimulation, degradation, mild violence, threats, chronological/temporal inaccuracies, fucking long

You can hardly be blamed for not recognizing them. It’s only been three weeks since you debuted as a pro, and you’re not even really a hero. You’re a sidekick, and apparently you’re not important enough to have been briefed on the major villains you need to look out for. You’re just…doing your duty. Rescuing civilians indiscriminately. Stupid, naive little sidekick. It’s not your fault that the lives you just saved belong to the two most notorious villains around.

Still, Shigaraki can’t wait to see the look on your face when you find out.

///

The disaster you ‘rescue’ them from—the League’s bar crashing down, the result of a small-time villain’s poisonous gas quirk—isn’t even a disaster. It’s a minor annoyance, sure, but Shigaraki and Dabi would have been fine without you…even though both of them missed Kurogiri’s warp gate and ended up trapped under a wooden beam in the wreckage of the building… Okay, it’s more than a minor annoyance. Shigaraki hacks violently as the cloud of foul-smelling steam and powdered debris enters his lungs. The poisonous quirk doesn’t seem to be having the same acid-burn effects on his body as it did on the building, but he can’t assume it’s harmless.

Father… Shigaraki took Father off his face to drink at the bar earlier before the gas hit, and now in the confusion the severed hand is either buried underneath the rubble that used to be the League’s main base or somewhere else out of view. “Father? Father!” Shigaraki calls out, attempting to shift under the crushing weight of the beam.

“Shut up,” Dabi says from somewhere to Shigaraki’s left. “Kurogiri took it in one of the portals, I saw it.” He looks worse than Shigaraki feels—something hit him in the face as the bar collapsed, and a few of the staples (piercings? stitches? whatever) on his right cheek are torn open and bleeding.

“Are you lying to me?”

Dabi sneers and rolls his eyes. “Let’s just get out of here.” His palms glow blue and Shigaraki follows suit, letting four fingers sit on the wood that’s pinning both of them to the ground. It’s too heavy to lift, so they’re going to have to get rid of it…a task that seems significantly more difficult when it becomes clear that neither of them are positioned at the right angle to touch it.

Shigaraki tries to wrest his arm out enough for his thumb to touch the wood, but it’s impossible. Beside him, Dabi’s having the same issue. “Shit, I can’t reach—“

“Is someone there?” Confident, clear, and oddly robotic, your voice cuts through the din of gurgling water from cracked pipes and police sirens like a lit flare in the darkness. Shigaraki tenses and halts his attempts to get free from the beam, and a second later Dabi mimics him.

“I heard voices.” The same unfamiliar voice rings out through the half-light, now accompanied by a body—your body, taking a series of awkward jumps down the piles of rubble to land in front of the two of them. The outfit you’re wearing is ridiculous: a pair of metal boots that clang against the cement wherever you step, matching braces on your arms, and a space-age chrome motorcycle helmet to top it all off.

A hero. Shigaraki’s lip curls in disgust as your head turns his way.

You scan the scene quickly, eyes resting on the two men trapped in front of you for a moment before you turn back to the opening in the wreckage. “Found two civilians!” you call out to the rescue workers just in case they’re within earshot, although it’s unlikely.

Dabi snickers under his breath. Civilians? Even in the chaos, you should’ve known the second you saw them who you’re looking at. Are you faking ignorance? Got something up your sleeve?  It’s either that, or you genuinely don’t recognize them. Priceless.

You kneel down in front of the fallen beam and give a half-hearted attempt to pick it up. It doesn’t budge. No surprises there—if it were light enough for you to lift by yourself, the two men held down by it would have no problem getting out with their combined strength. You’re going to have to use your support gear to get it off them.

But first—you search for a memory of your rescue training. Reassure the victims. They’re probably panicking.

“It’ll be okay,” you tell them, your voice coming out mechanical and distorted from the helmet you’re wearing. “You’re going to be okay. I’m here to save you.”

This time, Dabi has to bite his lip to keep from laughing out loud. Ah, yes…they’re so lucky that there’s a do-gooder little hero around to rescue them, because they’d be helpless otherwise. The laugh is still audible, though, and Shigaraki shoots him a glare.

You raise an eyebrow at their expressions. Did he just laugh? Well…you’ve heard that people sometimes have inappropriate reactions in times of crisis. The dark-haired man seems more badly hurt, so you creep toward him first, careful not to disturb any of the debris and trigger an avalanche reaction. “I’m going to check your injuries now,” you tell him, and your gloved hand brushes away a sweep of spiky hair to examine the sizable red bump growing on his forehead.

Ouch…there’s no way that doesn’t hurt, but the man’s not letting any of the pain show on his face. Instead, he looks disinterested at best, and at worst? You almost get the feeling that he’s eyeing you up under your hero costume. Not that you can blame him. Damn this skin-tight bodysuit—it leaves basically nothing to the imagination.

“Does it hurt a lot?” you ask him. “I don’t think this is too serious, but they’ll look you over for a concussion when I get you to first aid.”

Dabi shrugs and you frown. Is the non-verbal response because of the ripped stitches in his face? Is it too painful to talk? Or could there be brain damage? Or maybe he’s just a man of few words or something…?

“Can you get on with it? Pick up the fucking beam already,” Shigaraki hisses.

Startled, you pull your hand away from the other man’s forehead. That ungrateful little…nope, nope, don’t get annoyed, he’s just in shock. “O-Of course, sorry. Just gotta make sure it’s okay to move.”

Luckily, the beam doesn’t look like it’s supporting anything else that’ll fall if you pick it up. You crouch down next to one end and steady your feet against the cement, lifting up with all your strength while activating the effects of the support items you’re wearing. When you feel the metal on your arm braces grow warm, you remind yourself again to thank the developer of your costume. You may not be a fan of the way-too-tight bodysuit that clings to everything, but the strength-enhancing armor that you wear on your arms and legs more than makes up for it.

A second later, you hold back a grin. It’s moving! You try to ignore the unpleasant screech of metal against stone as the beam slowly lifts into the air. As soon as the men get out from under it, you pant and let it crash back into the ground. “You guys okay?”

“Mm…yes,” Dabi replies, running a hand over the torn piercings in his cheek. “Got any more gas masks for the poison mist?”

“Don’t worry! The Commission is familiar with the villain who created it, and the gas isn’t harmful to anything living. Only buildings. It’s a troublesome quirk, but we’ve got it under control.”

“Then what’s with the helmet?”

He can hear the hesitation in your reply, even distorted and tinny through the metal speakers. “Uh…I, well…”

Now that you’re getting a good look at them, the two scarred faces in front of you seem weirdly intense, considering you’ve just saved them from a collapsed building. The dark-haired man’s eyes are…very, very blue next to the burned-looking skin underneath, and the other man’s greyish-blue hair isn’t quite long enough to obscure a pair of red irises that are scrutinizing your face with obvious hostility.

You give a nervous shake of your head to clear it. “Um, the helmet is…it’s dangerous if I take it off. I should get you guys back to the rescue area, I need to meet up with my hero…” Without thinking, you take a step back and then one more, not knowing exactly why you’re backing away when you’re supposed to be escorting them. “I’ll just lead the way?”

With your third step back, though, you bump into something hard. What was that? Your head jerks around but before you can identify what it is that stopped your retreat, you feel the faint sensation of something tapping lightly on the back of your helmet.

And then…it just…crumbles.

What just happened?

You cough and shake your head, squeezing your eyes shut against the sudden onslaught of dust. A breeze whips through your hair, sending a chill through you in more ways than one. How? No one pulled the helmet off; you would’ve felt it if they had. More dust sticks to your face, and you rub your eyes so you can open them.

Behind you, Shigaraki waits with outstretched fingers an inch away from your neck. If he had to explain the decision to decay your helmet strategically, he could—you’re a hero, a potential threat, and he wants to know what you’re hiding under that outfit just in case you figure out who they are and decide to turn on them.

But really? He didn’t think about it that much. It was an impulse reaction to you walking away from them; a tantrum. Child-like.

Once your stunned face is exposed, Dabi has to wonder what you were even trying to hide. You’re…surprisingly ordinary. Young-looking—a rookie, fresh from hero school graduations a few weeks ago maybe? Large, expressive eyes, lips parted in shock, but nothing particularly interesting. Shigaraki cocks his head to the side to study your face too, and both of them are so focused on your appearance that it takes a moment for them to notice the feeling.

Well, feeling isn’t really the right word, but there isn’t a word for the way your quirk works. Dabi’s eyes widen when it reaches him and behind you, Shigaraki stiffens. You notice.

There’s an involuntary quiver in your voice as you break the silence. “Y-You guys must have strong quirks if you can feel it just from that.”

Dabi sucks in a breath. So this is your quirk? It’s different…he’s never felt anything like it, not that he’s exactly sure what it is. There’s some kind of energy in the air around you that he’s breathing in, a feeling like taking a shot of espresso after days of sleep deprivation.

No, it’s stronger than that. The head rush after doing a line of cocaine would be a better metaphor.

Either way, he’s awake—more awake than he can remember feeling in a long time. Heat rises to the surfaces of his palms unbidden, his quirk appearing without him calling it. “What is this?”

“…It’s called Boost,” you say, licking your lips as a dry wave of heat radiates out from the man in front of you. “I can strengthen other people’s quirks. That’s why it’s dangerous—if the villain finds us—“

“It must have been hard to get through hero school with a quirk like that,” says a raspy voice from behind you.

What—? Your head twists around. When did he—

Shigaraki grips your shoulder with three fingers, holding just tightly enough to keep you from stumbling forward and away from him. His pinky and ring finger hover an inch over your costume, careful not to disintegrate the fabric he’s touching—although with the power sparking through his veins at the moment, it almost feels like three fingers would be enough.

“…Doesn’t really seem like the kind of quirk a hero has.” His voice, soft and pondering (a weird contrast to the harsh architecture of his facial features you’d seen earlier), feels very close to your ear. Something soft tickles your cheek. His hair?

A voice (an instinct?) deep inside of you is telling you to run. You ignore it. This is normal, right? It’s not uncommon for civilians who’ve just suffered a traumatic villain attack to have questions, even if those questions seem irrelevant to the situation at hand. You have to answer, even if your gut is churning. “I’m not really a hero. Not yet. For now, I’m a sidekick to one of the pros—and speaking of which, I really need to find—“

“But how does it work?” Dabi doesn’t notice himself making a conscious decision to step forward, but he does anyway and being closer to you feels right. He can see the trepidation on your face as he gets close enough to reach out and touch you, but you can’t really ask him to stay back, can you? Not when your quirk feels this good?

“I—“ Is it unreasonable that you think you’re being trapped right now? They’re just a couple of civilians, right? The question itself is common enough. People often wonder how you can be a hero. It’s a concern you’ve had to address dozens of times over the years. “Well, I work with rescue operations, especially with other heroes who have healing-type quirks. I can also assist in combat in some situations.”

“In combat? If you’re with a hero and a villain, you’ll enhance both quirks. Seems counterintuitive,” Dabi says, half aware that his voice is getting lower.

“And you clearly don’t have physical abilities. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have…these.” Shigaraki taps three fingers on the metal brace on your right arm.

“The effects can be unpredictable. And I can increase the degree of the enhancement with physical contact.”

“Contact?”

“Yeah. The gloves of my costume come off. My quirk is way stronger when it’s skin-to-skin.” The words tumble out of your mouth before you can stop them.

You shouldn’t have said that.

Shigaraki’s ring finger and pinky, which were hovering over the arm brace, come down to rest on the cold metal. The effect is instant: no crumbling, no slow decay—it’s there, and then it’s dust. His quirk in action, boosted by yours.

“What—What are you doing? What did you just do?” You try to pull away from him, but he holds you tight by your collar. His other hand comes up to grip your chin, and in one long sloppy stroke, he licks you from your neck up to your jawline.

You shudder. So does Shigaraki.

“It’s my quirk,” he tells you slowly. His breath is steamy warm on the cold, wet trail of saliva painting your throat. “Decay. Have you heard of it?”

You flinch away from his hand and your back falls against his chest. Of course you’ve heard of the Decay quirk. You might be a rookie, but even civilians know about the young, impetuous head of the League of Villains. Jesus, how had you not recognized him earlier? White hair, red eyes…you should have known. You should have left him under that beam. “Shigaraki…Tomura.”

“So you’re not completely clueless. Do you know me, then?” Dabi asks. He would think he’s the more noticeable of the two (the burn scars usually identify him), but you just stare up at him with the same deer-in-the-headlights look as before. Smirking, he lights a blue fire in his palm and it jumps up toward your face—not just the small spark he intended, but a bright, high flame. “Maybe this will help you remember.”

“The Forest of Beasts incident. You’re the one who started that fire,” you whisper. You’ve seen the TV coverage of the attack on UA’s training camp, the abduction of that teenage student, the forest lit up blue from wildfire. No wonder his skin looks burned.

“Dabi,” he corrects you.

Breath is coming out of your mouth in shallow puffs. Are you hyperventilating? Is this what hyperventilating feels like? You’re definitely panicking. They’re so close to you, caging you in between them. The smoke from the blue fire is uncomfortably hot over the exposed skin of your face, and Shigaraki’s lethal hands are still touching you. If they want to kill you—and why wouldn’t they?—you’re fucked.

The flame goes out and Dabi’s hands come down to squeeze your wrists. His palms are hot like he was holding them in front of a lit stove. It’s not painful, but it’s a threat.

“I’ll fight,” you say.

Your voice is trembling, and Shigaraki likes it. The effects of your quirk, the way he felt when he licked your face… And you’re afraid. He can see it in your shoulders, the quivering of your torso pressed into him. It’s nice. He wants to feel it more.

You’re struggling against their hold, and Dabi feels the urge to laugh. “You’ll fight…the two of us.”

“If you try to kill me, I’ll—“

Before you can finish your sentence, Shigaraki’s hands flit down to your metal support gear and disintegrate it. Shit. He’s fast, and you’re helpless.

Dabi releases your wrists and cups your face in a mockery of intimacy. His eyelids flutter closed as his skin meets yours… Fuck, he could get used to this. You smell so good, sweet and soft and clean, like fruity shampoo. What is that, watermelon?

Life must be difficult for you, hm… Everyone around you must want to touch you constantly. It seems like Shigaraki enjoyed licking you—maybe bodily fluids are an even stronger conductor of your quirk? Pushing easily past your resistance, Dabi forces your jaw upward and kisses you.

Oh…yesyesyes, just like that. Perfect. Dabi has to bite down a groan as his tongue enters your mouth. It’s ridiculous for someone else’s spit to taste this good, but he’s right—your quirk is amplified by the contact from the kiss.

After a moment he has to break it to regain focus and make sure he’s not burning you. You cringe away from him, your cheek brushing against Shigaraki’s neck, but Dabi tangles his hand in your hair to pull you back. He runs a finger against your closed lips, letting the pad of his fingertip heat up until your mouth drops open in response to the threat.

“What the hell are you doing?” Shigaraki asks, voice laced with revulsion. Privately, you agree. What’s going on? You were sure you were about to be either burned to a crisp or decayed into the equivalent.

Dabi laughs under his breath. “Try it. It feels crazy good.”

Curious now, Shigaraki wrenches your head around and tilts your jaw up to repeat Dabi’s action. When you refuse to open your mouth, he taps your jaw warningly and a hiss of fear escapes you. Would he really kill you? He decayed your support gear so quickly—would it be the same for your body?

Well, what’s going to stop them?

You open your mouth.

Shigaraki’s lips are harsh and unsentimental against yours. His tongue sweeps over the inside of your mouth, invasive and brutal. He grips you forcefully, his face pushing you deeper into the strained hold with your head twisted toward his. You’ve never been kissed like this before. His spit—it’s in your mouth.

And Dabi’s hands are on your waist. “How do you get this thing off?” he murmurs, pinching the fabric of your bodysuit.

A surge of panicked adrenaline gives you the strength to pull back away from Shigaraki. “What? No, you can’t!”

“Are you going to stop us, little sidekick?” Dabi mocks. “I think I can burn it off without too much damage.”

“Let me.” Shigaraki takes hold of the cloth, careful so when it dissolves into dust his hand isn’t touching you, and within a second—a second—you’re left shivering in just your underwear and boots.

“Help!” The plea squeaks out and you hope blindly that there’s a hero close enough to hear you. But is there even anyone who can fight them? You certainly can’t. “Help me! Somebody!”

“Shut up.” Dabi sends up a tongue of flame from a fingertip and you shriek as the heat sears against you. “Oh, come on. You should feel lucky. Bad guys like us usually don’t hesitate to take heroes out.”

“I don’t— Please, I’m just a sidekick, I’m a rookie— What do you even want from me? Just let me go, I won’t tell anyone! Please let me go.”

“Well, I think I know what I want.” Dabi traces circles over the tender skin of your hips, playing with the elastic of your underwear. He meets Shigaraki’s eye over your shoulder. “I think he wants that too. Right?”

“Yeah, I want…I want to fuck her,” Shigaraki hums. This isn’t like him, but he can’t help himself. You’re different. Leaving you here and never feeling this stimulant again isn’t an option. He buries his face in the juncture of your neck and shoulder, bites down on the soft skin there, and sucks.

You whimper, half from his answer and half from the sensation of his chapped lips on your neck. “Why are you doing this?”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but…you smell like something I want to eat. Especially this.” Dabi kneels down in front of you and hitches one of your legs up over his shoulder so you feel his hot breath washing over your clothed pussy.

You whine and attempt to wriggle back away from him, but Dabi’s grip on your thigh holds firm. His other hand brushes against the fabric of your panties to rub up against your slit and another surge of panic jumps up your throat. You can’t let him do this.

You kick your foot against his back, desperately attempting to make contact using the heel of the high boot that’s the only piece of outerwear still left on your body. It hits him awkwardly and he growls. “Damn it. Can’t you keep her busy?”

“Ahh…” Shigaraki ceases his oral assault on your neck and scratches a fingernail against one of the bright red marks marring your skin. He feels almost dizzy from the way your quirk is affecting him. Behind him, the broken expanse of wall digging into his back is the only thing keeping his focus. “Behave, sidekick.”

Before you can respond to the mocking title, Shigaraki’s face is against yours and his tongue is in your mouth again. Rough fingertips work up under the band of your sports bra and pushes it up over your tits. You screw your eyes shut at the sudden feeling of cold air on your nipples, and you know without looking that they’re standing up. Shigaraki gropes you thoughtlessly, keeping one finger lifted off of your skin, and you gasp on his tongue.

“That’s better.” Dabi’s mouth returns to brush against your panties. To be honest, eating you out isn’t the first thing on his mind. What he wants—what he really wants—is to shove you up against the wall and fuck into you and find out what your quirk feels like when you’re wrapped around his cock. But you’re probably not wet enough for that, and it’s not like Shigaraki is going to do anything to take care of you. Dabi would be surprised if the other man’s ever eaten pussy before in his life.

Besides…you smell good. It’s not even just the feeling of your quirk exciting him. The rich, feminine scent of your pussy is inches away from him, and Dabi is dying to make you cum in his mouth.

A moan curls up from deep in your throat as Dabi caresses the lips of your pussy through your underwear. You don’t bother protesting—at this point, it’s unlikely that any plea you could muster would stop them. Your earlier begging didn’t do much besides spur them on, but you still cry out as softly as you can when an unnaturally warm fingertip slips under the cloth of your panties to dip into your slit.

“Oh? You’re wetter than I expected. Are you enjoying this?”

Your frantic denial falls on deaf ears. Shigaraki rasps out a laugh and bites down on your neck again. He’s supposed to be keeping you still, but he can’t help enjoying the way your almost-naked body feels as you press yourself back into his chest, trying to force some space between yourself and Dabi.

Your squirming is no problem for Dabi, though—you’re so soft and vulnerable and the velvety skin of your inner thigh looks so delicious… He nuzzles against the area of bare skin and latches on to it, sucking until he’s sure you’re going to have a mark in a few minutes. The thought of leaving hickeys on you like a teenager is sickeningly nostalgic. You’re probably going to try to forget this when they’re done, aren’t you? But you won’t be able to, not when you’re covered in love bites and bruises. You’re going to be marked up for weeks.

Fuck, he’s hard.

Too impatient to bother taking off your panties, Dabi just pushes them aside to gain access to your damp cunt. His fingers feel hot—too hot, almost unbearably hot; you feel like you could melt into a puddle and your pussy is certainly slick enough as he pets your clit and slides one finger in, then two… You whimper and shake your head, silently denying what’s happening to you. The intrusion is uncomfortable, but Dabi’s fingers quickly find that rough patch inside of you that makes you want to beg like an animal. You hate it, but it feels good.

“She’s so tight,” Dabi says with something like awe in his voice. You can hear Shigaraki panting behind your back.

“Get on with it,” Shigaraki says.

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

For a second you just feel Dabi’s humid breath against your dripping cunt before he closes the space between the two of you and his tongue slides onto you, laving over your cunt to come to a rest on your clit. A sound you’ve never heard yourself make before forces its way out of your mouth as Dabi eats you out in earnest, rubbing his tongue against your clit in a stuttering rhythm that gives you no time to catch your breath.

Oh my god. Oh my god. Your head rolls back onto Shigaraki’s shoulder. You feel like crying for a million reasons at once. Maybe you’re already crying—the sounds you’re making are almost like sobs. You want him to stop. You never want him to stop. Your hands twitch as you fight the impulse to fist them in the villain’s hair and pin him down between your thighs.

“Fuck, oh fuck, no stop please stop, ah…!” The stream of gibberish coming out of your mouth crescendoes into a real sob as you feel your climax coming. No—you can’t—you can’t cum here, in this broken-down bar, on the tongue of a villain, but it doesn’t matter that you can’t, because you’re going to cum anyway.

“Please don’t, please let me go—“ You writhe uncontrollably as the desire to cum sweeps over you, but Dabi just curls one arm around your thigh and pulls his face away so he can push his fingers back in, angling his palm to grind roughly over your clit. The harsh, rough texture after the warm wet softness of his tongue is enough to push you over the edge and you cry out your orgasm, your pussy clenching onto Dabi’s fingers as he works them in and out of you.

Unable to support yourself, you crumple like paper, and only the two villains you’re sandwiched between keep you upright.

“Fucking finally,” Shigaraki growls, and he pushes you down so your knees scrape painfully into the rubble. Your earlier resistance was cute, but so is your dazed compliance as he pulls your hips up to meet his.

“You’re going first?” Dabi asks incredulously. After he did all that work getting you off? No way.

“You can use her mouth,” Shigaraki tells him. His cock is straining against his pants and he groans as he releases it and rubs it over your panties. He could decay them, but…they’re cute. Pale pink, peach-pink, except for the wet spot over your cunt. Precum is already dribbling out of his cock as he pulls your panties to the side and lines it up with your pussy. Jesus-fucking-christ, you’re wet, sopping and slimy. Doesn’t that mean you’re begging to get filled up? Shigaraki hears himself sigh as he slides the head of his cock up and down your slit so it’ll be wet enough to go in.

You’re still out of it, dizzy from your orgasm and the tension of the situation, but you snap back to your senses with the feeling of something hard pushed up to your entrance. “Wait!” you yelp for what feels like the hundredth time. The gravel scattered over the wreckage where you’ve been forced onto your hands and knees digs painfully into your flesh as you pull away from Shigaraki, but he holds fast to your hips with pinkies raised.

“Uh-uh,” Dabi admonishes with a grin, as if he’s reprimanding a dog for not coming when called. He settles himself in front of your front and kneels again. Your hair is mussed but still silky soft and he takes a moment to enjoy the way the strands slip over his skin before he tangles his fingers close to your scalp and yanks your head in his direction, forcing your cheek to chafe against the crotch of his pants. It’s not difficult to tell what the the thick bulge is through the fabric, and you try to flinch away only to be caught again and immobilized.

“You’re going to take care of us,” Dabi tells you. “Like I took care of you. Okay?”

No, it’s not okay, it’s absolutely not okay, and you would say so if you didn’t see Dabi’s expression darken at your obvious denial and feel a wave of acrid heat coming from his hand in your hair. The smell is worse than the feeling, honestly—you’ve had enough run-ins with hair curlers and flat irons to recognize the smell of hair when it’s three seconds away from burning. “Okay! Okay,” you answer, panicked, voice muffled by the fabric of Dabi’s pants.

“Good girl,” he purrs, and the heat fades.

“I’m not waiting any longer,” Shigaraki says from behind you.

“Then don’t.”

You whine, too scared to try to get away again or even plead with them to let you go, but it doesn’t matter. Shigaraki’s cock presses into your pussy, and there’s nothing you can do to stop him as he slides into you, inch by inch, torturously slow. Is there anything to bite down on? You need to do something, anything to distract from the pain of Shigaraki’s cock stretching you out. He’s big, impossibly big.

Eyes squeezed shut, you bite your lip until you can taste copper and scrabble around blindly until your hand finds loose fabric to grip. It’s something of Dabi’s, probably the coat he’s wearing if you remember correctly, but your brain isn’t exactly working right at the moment—

“You were right…shit, she’s…she’s so fucking tight.” Shigaraki’s voice is low and labored with the effort of not thrusting into you all at once. “Feels like…she’s trying to push me out…”

Fuck it, he thinks. Would it really be so bad if he did push all the way into you in one stroke? It’s better to just get it over with, isn’t it? Yeah…you’d probably prefer him to do it quickly. And besides, he can’t wait another second to feel you all the way up to the base of his cock.

Your strangled whimper is drowned out by his satisfied groan as he shoves the rest of the way into you in a single sudden thrust. The pain knocks the breath out of you in a gasp, and your eyes fly open as you clutch Dabi’s coat like a lifeline.

“It hurts—!”

“Yeah…yeah, I bet it does,” Shigaraki pants, holding your hips steady as he thrusts in and out of you. The bored nonchalance of earlier is gone, replaced by a feral intensity as his cock carves its way through your pussy. If you didn’t know better, you’d think there’s something affectionate in his voice.

For Shigaraki’s part, he can hardly think of anything aside from the soft, hot, wet cunt wrapped over his dick. It’s taking every vestige of concentration he has left to make sure he’s holding a single finger on each hand away from your skin. It’s pure bliss. Your body was made to be fucked like this. He wants to live inside your pussy, he wants to do this every day, every minute. Fucking you raw is the best he’s felt in months…years. And it doesn’t hurt that your quirk is still working on him, still sending pleasurable shocks of energy that make him feel simultaneously like he could keep you pinned down for hours and like he could cum any second.

“Oh, she’s crying,” Dabi says, tilting your chin up so he can look into your eyes. You flinch and try to jerk your head away, but his hand is still holding you by your hair and he’s so much stronger than you are. They both are, even without using their quirks. “Look at me.”

You comply, more by reflex than any real desire to obey. It’s pretty striking to Dabi how cute you look as Shigaraki pounds into you so fast and deep you can hardly catch your breath. Your eyes are glittering with unshed tears, your tits bounce with every thrust, and you’re still holding onto Dabi’s coat like your life depends on it. It’s almost like you’re pulling him closer. Adorable.

“She can…take it,” Shigaraki responds breathily between thrusts. “Such a good whore, taking my big cock in her tight little pussy…”

The backhanded compliment jars you and you feel hot tears spill over your cheeks. “I’m—not—a—whore,” you manage to say, each word punctuated with Shigaraki’s skin slapping against yours.

“Really?” Shigaraki’s pace slows and he leans closer to you so he can reach an arm around and swirl two fingers against your clit. You mewl like a kitten at the unexpected stimulation and he laughs rudely. “Feels so good…can’t believe the heroes don’t want to fuck you like this all the time…”

You shake your head desperately and bury your face in Dabi’s chest, barely noticing him stroking your hair and then reaching down to unzip his pants.

“No, no, I bet that’s what you do as a sidekick, right?” Shigaraki’s thrusts are back to frenzied jerks, and he rubs over your clit just as roughly. “Spread your legs for your hero…you’d make a great personal cocksleeve. Or maybe they rotate you around so every pro hero gets a turn…?”

“No, I don’t! No! Ah— ahnnn…” The denials pierce the air uselessly as the villain’s cock fills you up again and again. You’re not a whore, you’re not…even if it’s getting harder and harder to ignore the growing pressure of Shigaraki teasing your clit in time with his cock rubbing against your sweet spot. It still hurts—he’s so big, bigger than anyone you’ve ever had sex with before, but there’s no way you’re going to admit to yourself that it’s starting to feel good.

“…Is my cock better than All Might’s?” Shigaraki’s words are cut off by his own grunt of pleasure as your cunt twitches around him.

“Shut the fuck up,” Dabi cuts in. “I’m sick of hearing a guy’s voice moaning. I’m going to get soft.”

Past the point of comprehending the situation, you look up at him gratefully, only to reel back in shock as Dabi frees his own cock from his pants and it brushes against your cheek. Trying to pull away from him is more instinct than rational thought, but he holds you just as easily as before and forces two fingers into your mouth. You tense, ready to bite down, (and hopefully take a few knuckles off) but he sees it coming and suddenly your mouth is horribly burning hot.

“You’re going to suck my cock now,” says Dabi conversationally, extinguishing the flame almost as soon as he started it. It’s not so bad—probably more like a coffee burn than anything else—but you’re coughing and spitting anyway. “Say yes.”

“…Yes,” you whisper, voice barely intelligible.

“Good little sidekick. And you’re going to be very careful. You’re not going to use teeth.”

You nod, unable to mount a defense with Shigaraki mercilessly fucking you from behind.

“I want to hear you say it.”

“Y-Yes!” you squeal as Shigaraki finds a particularly sensitive spot inside you.

“Good.” Dabi drags your head down to hover over his cock and massages your jaw until it falls open. “Suck.”

One of his hands falls to your shoulder to try to stabilize you, but you can’t help feeling the threat in the motion. You quickly duck down and attempt to ignore the heady smell of sweat and precum as you trace your tongue up the underside of his dick. He’s big too, maybe thicker than Shigaraki, and you hate yourself for feeling lucky that it’s not this cock inside your pussy right now.

The stunt Dabi pulled burning your mouth made you salivate, and you let drool coat your tongue as you lick around the head. But it’s not working—you rock forward every time Shigaraki stuffs his dick back in your aching pussy, and Dabi’s cock smears over your mouth haphazardly.

“I said suck. Not lick.” Suddenly (although you don’t know why you keep expecting some kind of warning before these villains find a new way to violate you), Dabi grabs the back of your head and shoves his cock into your mouth. Your throat constricts involuntarily as the thick head triggers your gag reflex, and all three of you shiver in unison.

“Do…do that again,” Shigaraki says, voice strained. “She tightens up…when you do that.”

Dabi smirks and thrusts into you again, relishing the warm, humid cavern of your throat around his cock along with the pure swell of energy from your quirk enhancing his. His rhythm matches Shigaraki’s and his cock hits the back of your throat with every rapid pump, making you gag and clench like you’re trying to milk the cum out of him. What a perfect little slut… He can see from Shigaraki’s sloppy movements that you’re squeezing around his cock every time too.

The feeling of having one villain cock buried in your pussy while another ravages your throat is unthinkable, even more so with Shigaraki’s fingers on your clit coaxing out an earth-shaking orgasm. But you’d almost be able to forget what’s happening—god knows you’re delirious with sensation, barely able to keep track of who’s doing what to you—if not for the sound. The wet slap of Shigaraki’s hips against your ass, the horrible squelching from your (dripping wet, even if you don’t want to admit it) pussy as his cock pistons in and out of you, your choked moans and gagging noises, and above it all, the unrestrained voices of the villains fucking into you.

You feel like a fuck toy, a sex doll, used without mercy by the two most evil people you can think of…and you’re about to cum.

Your voice is getting louder by the second, and the pulsing of your cunt around Shigaraki’s cock is telling him exactly how close you are. He curls his body over yours to get a better angle to rub your clit, enjoying your high-pitched whine in response. “Yeah…that’s right…good girl. Cum on my cock…like a good little sidekick.”

You keen and goosebumps rise on your skin as Shigaraki licks at the sheen of sweat on your back. He feels your climax almost as soon as you do… If your scream wasn’t stifled by Dabi’s dick in your mouth, everyone within a one-mile radius would know you were getting fucked silly, yeah? The walls of your pussy clamp down on Shigaraki’s cock, your body begging for his cum, and he grips your ass to make sure you can’t get away as he comes to his own orgasm inside of you.

Fuck… Shigaraki could die right now and be happy. He keeps stroking your clit, knowing it’s cruel, knowing you’ll be overstimulated and sensitive and that it’ll hurt to keep touching you like this after you already came, and not caring because every time the tips of his fingers push that little magic button, you shiver and squeeze him like you’re trying to milk him dry.

Shigaraki gives a few last thrusts, pushing his cum deeper into your body, fucking it into you so you’ll be dripping white for hours, and then finally pulls out. The slurping sound your cunt makes as his cock leaves your pussy is obscene. So is the cloudy trail of mixed white and clear fluid that connects your pussy and the head of his cock until he pulls it away. He loves it.

Knowing that Shigaraki came—inside you, no less, the inconsiderate bastard—Dabi grips the back of your head and tugs you down to deepthroat him. Your walls twitch involuntarily and Dabi groans, letting himself shoot his load down your throat. “Yes…yeah…yeah…just like that. Swallow.”

You don’t swallow. You don’t do anything but gag on his cum and gasp as he thrusts into you. Dabi pulls you off of him, annoyed and ready to threaten you into submission again…until your head lolls to the side and he can see that your eyes are closed.

“Shit, she passed out.”

“…What? Are you kidding?”

Dabi slaps your face lightly. You wince in your sleep but don’t wake up. “Nope. Must’ve been when she came the second time.”

“Is she…” Shigaraki trails off, not sure how to end the question. ‘Okay’ isn’t exactly right.

“She’s breathing, if that’s what you’re asking.”

The two of them wait for a moment, but you don’t move. When he catches his breath, Shigaraki wipes off his dick and pulls up his pants. Dabi does the same. Without them holding you, you flop down into the fetal position on the broken concrete. “What now?” Shigaraki asks.

Dabi wipes the sweat from his forehead. “You tell me, leader. I’m surprised Kurogiri hasn’t opened another warp gate to get you back. Guessing you don’t have your phone either?”

“…We can go to Giran’s place to meet up. They’re probably waiting for us there,” Shigaraki says, scratching at his neck.

“Do you have cab fare?”

“I don’t have my wallet on me. You?”

“Not enough for a cab. We’ll have to take the train. You can owe me.”

Shigaraki looks down at you. You make a pitiful scene, naked except for your boots, sports bra, and cum-soaked panties. Your neck is bruised red and purple, and you’re shaking, shivering in the cool air now that the sun has sunk further toward the horizon and you’re not being touched. “Are we going to leave her here?”

“What, you want to bring her on the train with us? You don’t think that’s gonna look suspicious?”

“Well…” Their eyes meet and Shigaraki knows Dabi’s thinking the same thing he is. You have a lot of potential as an asset. They haven’t even had the chance to see how your quirk boosting works in combat, but Shigaraki almost wants to pick a fight just to give it a try.

And fighting power aside, Shigaraki isn’t a fan of the possibility that he’ll never get to fuck you again.

“Yeah, I know. But she’s a pro hero’s sidekick. She can’t be too hard to find.” Dabi shrugs off his coat and crouches next to you. You’re limp enough that he has no trouble lifting you into his lap and guiding your arms through the sleeves of his coat. Once you’re wrapped in the black fabric, he does up the buttons, combs through your hair with his fingers, wipes the mixed cum and spittle off your chin, and admires his handiwork. Sure, anyone looking closely at you will know at least a little about what happened—you’re still sweating in the cold, you have that undeniable ‘just got fucked’ look all over you, and the smell of sex is overpowering. But at least you won’t have to walk back to the rescue tent in your filthy underwear.

In your sleep, you nuzzle into Dabi’s chest, reaching blindly toward the source of warmth. He grins and strokes the back of your neck, soothing warm fingers over the bruised skin there and enjoying his last opportunity to touch you and feel your quirk working…for now, at least. “You know, I wonder why villains don’t get sidekicks. Seems a little unfair, right?”

Shigaraki’s sneer matches Dabi’s as he bends down to run his fingernails over your cheek, almost hard enough to hurt. “I was just thinking the same thing.”

#Dabi x reader #Shigaraki Tomura x reader #Shigaraki x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha imagines #Shigaraki #Dabi #bnha #boku no hero academia #boku no hero academia imagines #mha #my hero academia #mha imagines #my hero academia imagines #boku no hero academia x reader #my hero academia x reader #smut #tw noncon

[malereader-inserts]

Finding You

Fandom: Haikyuu Pairing: Tobio Kageyama x Male!Reader Summary: You’ll always find each other, almost as if you’re destined to play together or against each other. Word Count: 1,015 Request: @crunchyhanie​ “I'd love it if you could write something about Kageyama x boyfriend!reader. If possible from the time when Kags got the King of the Court title until his first year in Karasuno. We all know how devastated Kags was when he tosses but no one is there to spike it – aaaaand this is where the reader came in and they became boyfriends I guess ?? hhhh I don't really have a specific plot for this, I just want some Kageyama fluffs for myself T_T” A/n: Sorry it’s not as fluffy

Kageyama remembers when he first met you, you had watched his match of devastation. You had met him in the hallway, there was a charming smile and you were in the same year as him. You were the ace of your junior school and the captain of it. Whilst Kageyama was scowling, almost unapproachable, you stopped to look at him.

“I’ll find you, Kageyama-kun!” You exclaimed when he looks at you, he knows your school, but he never got the chance to play you, “I’ll always be there to hit your sets!”

“(L/n)-senpai,” one of your kouhai’s tugged your volleyball jacket, “Coach wants us.”

You turned back to Kageyama and gave him the brightest smile he has ever seen. You had a lot of talks, just like Kageyama. Your school was Chidoriyama Junior High, it was already a powerhouse school with players moving on with their volleyball careers. You were the talk of the potentials of young aces, you weren’t really concerned in that title. 

But, when Kageyama saw that look in your face, he felt different. His sister says it was love at first sight, but he doesn’t believe it. He spent the rest of his junior year passing by, excited to cross paths. When he arrived on his first day at high school, he was busy getting annoyed with Hinata.

“Kageyama-kun!” The two of them stop to turn to look at the new person at the door, Kageyama’s heart swore it sore up high, “I found you!”

He was like you remembered, loud and ecstatic, especially when Nishinoya returned to the club.

“Noya-senpai!” The libero looked over and beamed.

“It’s my kouhai ace!” Noya jumped to give you a hug, seeming that everyone understood you went to the same junior school, “You’ve grown since I have last seen you!”

“And you haven’t.”

“Why you little-” Noya giving you a jab to the side whilst Tanaka and Sugawara were laughing, liking their addition to the team. 

As months passed, the team getting stronger, you and Kageyama fell in love. Whilst Kageyama and Hinata had amazing plays, when you were on the court, the way you two had synced up was unbelievable - a dangerous duo. You were efficient in creating, on the line, line shot and supercross shots. You had a high jumping reach and always there for Kageyama’s quick.

“You can always count on me, Kags.”

“I know.”

You were often switched out for Tanaka or Daichi, you were obviously Nishinoya’s pupil, so you were always a reliable receiver. Hinata was jealous at times, that you could always look at Kageyama and he understood what you mean. It was the main reason why you and Kageyama could be terrifying on the court with the fact nothing needs to be said and actions will be louder. 

Hinata saw you as a rival, with the fact that you were clearly high up on the list of the next ace after Tanaka. Yeah, you had a lot to learn, but you were ready. By your third year, you made it clear that you intend to sit on the first rank of aces where Sakusa sits at the moment. You and Kageyama got closed, the boys cheered when you two turned up to practice holding hands, Kageyama blushing and you smiling brightly. 

One day when you arrived at school, Kageyama was waiting with you at the front, you were a little out of breath because you got of bed late.

“Hey, I found you.”

“I’m not hard to spot,” Kageyama replied, as you shrugged your shoulders, taking the food out of his hand, taking a bite, “Hey! That’s mine.”

“It’s mine now, Kag-kun.”

The two of you walk together, knowing that later you have practice, you waved him goodbye to him as you meet your classmates as he meets up Hinata. Kageyama smiles to himself, thinking about you. He doesn’t know how it happens really, you were always by his side, from the Tokyo training camp to each match. 

You were there to defend him from Oikawa, even managed to shut him up when you had to serve whilst subbing in for Tanaka. Your jump serves could rival Kageyama’s. You walked home together, you messaged each other often. Sometimes, on weekends, you two would meet to play receives. 

Miwa teases him all time about you and him, that she was right about it being love at first sight. Miwa also loves you to bits, you were different from Tobio’s personality, but, sometimes Miwa can see her little brother revert back to his childlike self she has dearly missed after their grandfather had passed away.

“What about me?”

“Uh, sorry, Hinata, only Kageyama and (L/n) was invited to All-Japan.”

You two high-fived behind Hinata, always rare to see Kayegama do anything affectionate to team-mates, but you seem to bring it out of him naturally. Whilst you and he walked home together, you talked about the future.

“We’re not even third years, (Y/n)-san,” Kageyama said munching on a pork bun.

You shrugged your shoulders, “So? Look at us, we’re heading to the top, how can I not imagine our future? We’ll go to the Olympics! We’ll be in the professional teams.”

“We’ll be in different teams, most likely.”

You looked at your boyfriend, tilting your head, making you both stop your walking, “And? I’d love to play against you again.  We never did it last year, and I intend on blocking all your sets till your frustrated.”

“You’re annoying...” But, Kageyama laughs, he smiles so vibrantly, “Okay, we’ll play against each other, one day, I’ll find you.”

“Just like I found you?”

Kageyama smiles further, “I’ll crush you.”

“Sure, you will, Kag-Kun! Even if our teams are across the world, we’ll find each other, right?”

“I don’t intend on losing you.”

You chuckled, you grabbed his hand to continue walking, you lead the way home, your next words started something in Kageyama’s mind as if he locked it away for future references. You gave him a promise, straight from your heart.

“You won’t lose me.”

#tobio kageyama x male reader #kageyama x male reader #kageyama imagine #haikyuu #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x male reader #x male reader

[inkbyajm]

Something Brewing

pairing: C.H. x fem!reader

category: fluff

warnings: anxiety attack

word count: 1.5k

notes: felt like angst, felt like sobbing uncontrollably, but my body wouldn’t cooperate, so imagining it will do for now. this was supposed to be a one-shot, but i didn’t realise how much i had written. now i’m splitting it into two parts. next part will definitely be more angst than fluff, so stay tuned for the terrifying sight that is angry corpse :) (p.s. don’t mind the occasional use of british english, it’s my default lmao)

next >

A peculiar thing it was, the concept of love. It was very personal and feelings about it varied from person to person. For some, it had existed since the beginning of time, when Adam and Eve first walked the Earth, when the Almighty willed his beloved humans to lead their own lives with him in their hearts. For others, it is a feeling to long for, to crave, a feeling they found themselves daydreaming about often. And for the rest, love is a tool of ruin, potentially driving people who cared for one another away from each other, instilling at least a smidge of repulsion in each one of them. However, humans are social creatures after all, and sometimes, attraction was unavoidable no matter how much one tried. And try he did.

━

Living in California could get hard and stressful at times, but at least Corpse didn’t live at the heart of the city of anxiety-inducing social interactions and constant chaos that was Los Angeles. Sure, it meant that he didn’t live close to his friends, but he wasn’t far away from her, and that was enough for him.

A few soft grunts and sounds of slippers landing on the hardwood floor echoed from the kitchen of (Y/N)’s apartment. He got up from the couch in her living room and decided to investigate the source of the noise. Coming into the room, he saw her jumping to reach the highest shelf in one of the cupboards. Looking at it, he noticed her favourite mug sitting at the edge of said shelf and, afraid she would knock it over whilst attempting to grab it, he effortlessly got it for her. “Thank you. God, I was about to grow a foot taller trying to reach for this thing.” she sighed, eliciting a deep chuckle from him, “See, this is exactly why you’re my favourite friend.” Friend? Well, yes, of course a friend, what else would he be? Corpse felt an uncomfortable tug at his heart, and he couldn’t pinpoint the exact reason why he was feeling that way, so he brushed it aside. “Why was it that high up if you can’t even reach it?” (Y/N) wasn’t a short person, she was perfectly average, and he himself wasn’t that tall of a guy either. But when it came to situations of this kind, he couldn’t help but feel good about his being taller. “It usually isn’t, but I let (F/N) use it once the other day because she refused to drink out of any of the other mugs, that stubborn bitch.” she replied, pouring her homemade Italian hot chocolate into the acquired cup. (F/N) was also taller than (Y/N), so it was only natural for her to be putting things in higher places. It was done out of habit.

(Y/N) and Corpse walked back to the living room to once again settle into the couch. He glanced at her as she sat with her legs crossed, concentrated on blowing on her moderately hot beverage, while the light from the moon peeked through the curtains of the balcony door, illuminating her face ever so slightly. Since when did he start noticing these things? Looking away to set his eyes on the TV in front of them, he sensed his heart beating at an usual rhythm, palpitating, and along with it came slight lightheadedness. Was he having a heart attack? Were these signs of atrial fibrillation? Or was this simply the start of an anxiety attack? Surely any of these would be more...recognisable, to say the least. The only situation he could think of with similar reactions was when one would develop a crush. A fucking crush? At his age? How old was he, ten? “Earth to Corpse? Please don’t tell me you’re one of those people who sleep with their eyes open, that’s fucking creepy.” Her finger snaps pulled him out of whatever trance he was in. “Sorry, were you saying something?” “I asked you if you had watched Bly Manor like three times. You were very far away.” she answered, emitting a few giggles. “Sorry, I uh- I was thinking of something, but it’s stupid. And no, I haven’t, I’ve been meaning to, though.” And just like that, they settled on the show they were going to watch for the next couple of weeks.

━

“NOOOOOOO,” (Y/N) yelled, voicing her defeat “WHAT THE FUCK KIND OF LUCK IS THIS.” Corpse lay on the floor, slamming his palm down onto it out of hysterical laughter. They had been playing Unmatched for the past hour, this being their third round, and after many cards and a level of tension that could only be cut through with a saw, his Robin Hood had finally defeated her Alice. It was Corpse’s first time playing, so to say that his winning of all three games was a crushing moment for her was an understatement. “This is not normal, you lied saying you’ve never played before!” she pouted, putting everything back into the box, “I��m usually really good at this game.”

He wiped the tears from his eyes, struggling to keep a good composure. “I’m sorry, I guess I’ve found my talent,” he joked, but he did feel bad for stealing her thunder, “Would it make you feel better if I said that my Robin Hood is, like, extremely hurt right now? You have a fucking gigantic knife as a weapon, I only have, like, a bow and arrow. That’s kind of unfair.” (Y/N) bit her lip in hesitation, then picked up her figurine and lightly tapped it along the table to approach his. Putting Alice at a slight angle, she made a kissing sound as to imitate her character smooching his. “There, a kiss to make it better. I promise not to hurt you too much if you let me win next time.” 

The same strange feeling he had experienced for the first time two months ago, when they were sitting on the couch of her living room, and many more times after that, had come back. He would’ve blamed it on heartburn, except it was nothing like it. It wasn’t anything he was used to. “Hey, you alright?” (Y/N) furrowed her brows in concern “You’ve been doing that a lot lately, rubbing your chest like that.” Fuck. He had never noticed the habit he had developed. “I’m fine, just me and my heart problems, nothing unusual.” Filthy liar. Brows still furrowed, she moved closer to him and, with her legs tucked under her, she put her hand above his heart to check. “Jesus, Corpse, your heart is going a million miles per hour! Are you sure you’re okay?”

Looking up at him, she noticed how red he had suddenly become, and this worried her even more. “Bubs, you’re literally changing colours.” How did she expect him not to when she was doing this? (Y/N) further inspected his condition and put the back of her hand on his forehead, then his cheeks, to check his temperature. Expectedly, he was getting warmer. She stopped for a second and listened intently, only to hear his shallow breathing fill the silence. She then glanced down at his left hand resting on his thigh, and surely enough, found it trembling. “Alright, Corpse? Hey, can you hear me?”

His breathing only picked up its pace as the seconds went by. On the spur of the moment, (Y/N) placed herself in front of him, her legs on either side, and gently cradled his head. “Corpse, darling, I’m gonna need you to look at me, okay? Focus on me, focus on my breathing, mm?” He forced himself to tear his gaze away from the ground and did as he was told, eyes darting around, analysing her expression. He’s never found himself having an attack in her presence, it was surprising how well she was handling it.

Wait- darling? Bubs? “Now, can you name four things that you see? Can you do that for me?” He briefly scanned the room for answers, his mind still cluttered. “The fridge, the couch, the light and-” Did she mean to call him that? It was probably nothing, she could be using it with any of her friends for all he knew. He wasn’t special. “and the game, the board game. On the table.” “Good, now can you name three things you hear?” This one took a lot of concentration, there weren’t many obvious sounds for him to point out. “The motorcycle outside, your hands rubbing against my skin, uh-” What the fuck else? Was he losing his mind? The task was simple enough, why was he having so much trouble with it? “I’m sorry, I- I don’t hear anything else.” “No, it’s okay. You’re doing splendid, see? Your breathing is much more stable.” she reassured him, squeezing his upper arms.

“Lastly, can you give me two things you can smell?” Nodding, he closed his eyes. “The coffee you drank earlier.” It took him a moment to come up with something else, and just as she was about to get off of his lap, figuring he had done a good enough job, she heard him mumble “your perfume”. Scared he’d get another attack, Corpse avoided looking into her eyes, which he could feel the gaze of. He only picked up on the scent from her shifting closer in the last second. “That’s funny, I had forgotten to put perfume on this morning.” 

#corpse husband x reader #corpse x reader #corpse husband x you #corpse x you #corpse husband x y/n #corpse x y/n #corpse husband fic

[dirtydobrik]

your heart was glass, i dropped it - j.w.

plot: you and jeff have been together for a few years but when you stumble across an engagement ring, your relationship changes

word count: 1650

masterlist

note: i started writing this over the summer with no direction on how to end it but champagne problems by taylor swift inspired me to finish this (title is a lyric from the song)

“Babe, can I use your computer?” you asked, as you poured yourself another cup of coffee. You had spent the night at your boyfriend's, and even though you had taken the day off from work, you needed to check if any emails you had gotten required an immediate response.

“Of course,” Jeff said. "Just don’t get sucked into work, you took the day off for a reason," he reminded.  

"I'll only be an hour, two tops," you promised, giving him a quick kiss before taking your coffee mug into his office and settling into his desk chair. You powered on his desktop computer and silently hoped you didn’t have a lot of work to do.

You opened a new web browser to log into your email account, but a website in the bookmarks bar quickly caught your eye. Curious as to why he had a jeweler bookmarked, you clicked on the link. Your heart stopped when you saw a diamond ring pop up on the screen. The ring was stunning: it was simple and elegant but also modern and everything you could possibly want in an engagement ring. But a part of you knew you didn’t want the ring, or any ring. Despite being together for almost three years, you and Jeff hadn’t really talked about marriage, and to be honest, you weren’t sure it was something you ever wanted.

An engagement ring made everything real. It elevated what the relationship was and required a level of commitment you weren’t sure you could handle. Aside from the pressures of a marriage, you were also worried about how this would affect your career. You were currently working as an intern for an entertainment attorney and in your third and final year of law school at UCLA. Your future was still ahead of you and you had no idea where you would end up. Jeff's life was heavily based in LA, and you knew you didn't want to do a long distance relationship with him but you also didn't want to force yourself to stay here.  

You needed to get your mind off of the ring, and finally got to work. You logged into your email to reply to the few you had, as well as reviewing a handful documents and answering a few phone calls. An hour and a half later, you were finalizing your last email when Jeff knocked on the door. He poked his head in to make sure you weren't on a call before crossing the room and wrapping his arms around your shoulders. You felt yourself tense up when you felt his arms and prayed he didn't notice as you took a deep breath and tried to relax. Jeff rested his chin on the top of your head, looking at the post-it notes you had randomly placed on his desk.

"Busy morning?" he remarked, and you nodded.

"But I'm done now," you said, your eyes quickly scanning the email you just written and hitting send. You signed out of your email account and closed the browser. You set the sticky notes you needed to keep into a pile and tossed the others into the small trashcan before spinning around to face your boyfriend. "What's our plan for the day?" you asked, needing something to distract you from the looming thoughts of a proposal.

"Let's take a drive," Jeff grinned.

His hand rested on your inner thigh as he drove along the coast. The windows were rolled down and Jeff was humming to the songs playing softly on the radio, but your mind was elsewhere. You absentmindedly picked at the skin around your nails as you imagined potential scenarios that could lead to a proposal tonight. You knew you weren't thinking logically right now, but the engagement ring Jeff had bookmarked kept clouding your judgment. You knew stopping to watch the sunset over the cliffs wouldn't necessarily lead to a proposal, you guys did that all the time. But the fact that you did it so often made you think it was a reasonable way for Jeff to ask you to marry him.

You saw Jeff's mouth move but you didn’t have a clue what he was saying.

"Babe, are you okay?" he repeated, looking over at you.

You nodded. "Sorry, I just have a lot on my mind and a killer migraine right now," you lied.

 When you got back to Jeff's apartment, you told him you were going to take a nap while he edited a video.

  “What’s goin on with you?” Jeff asked, as you diced an onion for the homemade tomato sauce you were making for dinner.  

“Nothing,” you muttered, not wanting to start a fight. You scraped the diced onion off the cutting board and into the hot pan. He could tell you were distant and distracted by something but he had no idea what it was.

"It's obviously something. You've been quiet and ignoring me all day," he pointed out and you scolded yourself for making things obvious.

"Jeff, I really don't want to talk about it," you insisted, your eyes silently pleading with him to drop the subject. He sighed, desperately wanting to have the conversation. He hated how closed off you were, how you never talked about your feelings, how you used work and school as an excuse to get out of things.

But he knew you wouldn’t say anything, so he dropped the subject, instead telling you about his day. He watched you force a smile as he talked and even though he knew you were trying to act interested, your mind was elsewhere.

You added crushed tomatoes into the pan, and asked Jeff to fill a pot with water so you could boil it for the pasta.

 You took two plates out of the cabinet and plated the pasta. You brought them over to the kitchen table, where Jeff was already sitting.

“Smells delicious,” he grinned, and you gave him a half smile and a quick thanks.

You sat down across from him, telling him about how work had gone and what your schedule for next week looked like, but the entire time, you couldn’t stop thinking about the engagement ring. The candles on the dining table remained unlit and you knew Jeff was a romantic, but thoughts of him getting down on one knee and proposing kept creeping into your mind. As badly as you wanted to be fully present with him today, you just couldn’t.

"Are you sure everything is okay?" Jeff asked, putting his fork down and locking eyes with you. You nodded, unable to form a sentence, but he didn’t believe it. “Honey, talk to me,” he urged, annoyed that you had been avoiding something all day.  

You sighed, dropping your metal fork on to the ceramic plate. “It's nothing, I just don’t want to ruin what we already have,” you said, staring blankly at him.

Jeff’s eyebrows knit together, confusion plastered across his face. “What the hell are you talking about?” he questioned. Things between the two of you were fine and he didn't have a clue what could ruin it.

“I know about the ring, Jeff,” you admitted and his jaw dropped. Not wanting to start a fight, you stood up from the table, pushing your chair back. Jeff reached for your arm, his eyes meeting yours, and you reluctantly sat back down. His hand wrapped around your fingers, as you rested your hand on the table. He didn’t know what to say, so he waited for you to talk.  

 "I can't say yes," you whispered, looking down at the kitchen table. Jeff slowly ran his thumb across your cheek to wipe away your tears. He was at a loss for words. "I love you, Jeff, I truly do. But I'm about to graduate law school and I'm just starting my career. I don't want to pass on an incredible opportunity because it's not in LA, and I know that your life is here, and I wouldn't ever make you move for me but long distance sucks," you rambled on, telling him about how you weren't sure you ever wanted to get married or have kids and how you were too young to make life decisions. You could tell Jeff was biting his tongue, trying to hold back.

"I love you," he spoke softly, his eyes watering.

"I love you, too, but that's not all that matters. You deserve to be with someone who can commit to you. You deserve to have the family you've always dreamed of. You deserve someone better than me."

"But I want to be with you," he insisted. Your teary eyes met his and you slowly shook your head. You couldn’t let him stay with you, not when you knew you couldn't give him everything he wanted in life.

"I'm sorry." You stood up from the table, trying to hold back your sobs, leaving him lost and confused.  

"I didn’t buy it," he muttered, his eyes bloodshot as he leaned against the doorframe of his bedroom, where you were packing all of your things. "But would it have been the worst thing in the world if I asked you to marry me?"

You took a deep breath, turning to face him, but when you opened your mouth, no words came out. All you could do was nod, silently breaking his heart.

You finished filling your duffle bag and slung it over your shoulder. Your eyes filled with tears as you avoided meeting Jeff's gaze, not wanting to make the situation worse than it needed to be.

"I love you," you said, standing on your toes and giving him a kiss on the cheek. "And I'm so sorry," you whispered before opening the front door and walking out, leaving behind the love you shared and the life you two had built together.

#jeff wittek #jeff wittek fanfic #jeff wittek blurb #boyfriend!jeff #jeff wittek imagine #jeff wittek x you #jeff wittek x reader #Jeff Wittek x Y/N #vlog squad fanfic #jeff wittek fic #champagne problems #vlog squad #vlog squad imagine #vlog squad blurb #sad angst #heartbreak #jeff wittek concept #vlog squad one shot #jeff wittek one shot

[1-800-imagines]

Exhausted (Owen Hunt Imagine)

Requested by @theichabbieclub​

If youre doing requests could you do Owen x exhausted!soaking wet! Reader? Based on 7x07 where they had that trauma training and everyone was soaking wet. Reader is wet and slightly shivering by the end and Owen feels a bit guilty. Reader ends up falling asleep standing up. This is the third night they have went w/o sleep. Owen is there so once he notices he places his hand on their bsck, pushing them towards him so they fall in his arms. He gets them warm and dry before going to an on-call room

authors note: i LOVED this request!! hope you enjoy. feel free to request more, they’re always open (:

Trauma training had been literal Hell for you. You had worked your ASS off and yet nothing seemed to be working. You knew that’s what it was for, but your team was incompetent. You had to completely take over and basically do everything by yourself. This hadn’t gotten unnoticed by Dr. Hunt.

And then the rain had started. You worked extremely hard, but your teammates kept messing everything up. Your team got eliminated second to last and you felt awful. You were so tired, just standing there that you were starting to fall asleep standing up despite the pouring, freezing rain.

You were too exhausted to notice that everyone else had gone inside. Owen walked up to you and put his hand gently on your back, allowing you to lean into him. He felt bad as to how hard he had obviously pushed you, but it was only because he could see potential in you. You were so asleep that you fell and Owen caught you, “Oh my god, I’m so sorry, Dr. Hunt.” You said, rapidly looking up at the gorgeous man who had literally just caught you in his arms.

You had talked to Hunt a MILLION times before and your crush on him never lessened. He was brilliant and you wanted to learn everything from him.

“Hey no, it’s okay. You’re the only one here. You did great today. I can see you and Kempner being trauma surgeons. Let’s go inside.” Your heart was beating so loudly you could barely hear him so you just nodded. He took your hand and led you inside. He was wet just from catching you and he brought you into the Attending’s locker room. You didn’t know why you were being treated so special. “You shouldn’t have done the training today. I know you’ve been on call way longer than you should have been.” You looked down, feeling slightly guilty as he said this, he titled your face up so you could look at him, “Just let me take care of you right now.”

“Okay,” You said softly. He handed you some of his spare scrubs. You had more in your own locker but you didn’t want to leave Owen. You took them from him and he turned around so you could change. You slipped out of yours and put his on. They were huge on your frame but that was okay. You dried your hair off with your old scrubs, “I’m done.” You weren’t embarrassed changing in front of people. It was expected in the medical field.

He stripped his shirt off and put a new scrubs top on. You caught a glimpse of his body and blushed. He turned and smiled at you. “Those are big, but they’ll do for now,” He said with a chuckle.

You were still so exhausted. You felt bad. “Come on, you deserve some rest.” He said, taking your hand and leading you to an on call room. You knew you were going to crash as soon as you hit the bed. You were still freezing that your teeth were basically chattering. You laid down and Owen covered you up. His hand grazed your face, “Your skin is ice, move over.” You didn’t think anything of it when he said it. You scooted over and let him get in the bed next to you.

He wrapped his strong arms around you and held you tight. You felt safe and were getting warmer by the minute. It was the best sleep you had in an all call room, ever.

#Owen Hunt #owen hunt x reader #owen hunt imagine #owen hunt imagines #owen hunt one shot #dr hunt #greys anatomy imagine #greys anatomy imagines #greys anatomy fanfic #greys anatomy #dr owen hunt #greys #greys abc

[lettrespromises]

THE FORGOTTEN DAY. - AKAASHI, DAICHI, KUROO, ATSUMU.

@luveranime wrote : ❝Hey Nikki its me again lmao 😂. Could you do one where they actually completely forget your birthday? With Akaashi, daichi, kuroo, and atsumu? Make it angst please🥺❞

A.N: ❝dear reader,

thank you so much for trusting me once more with your request! i always love writing the requests even more so than my own prompts. i sincerely hope you’ll like these hc’s, i tried to make these as angsty as i could but atsumu has two braincells and i could NOT resist the temptation of doing something more lighthearted, i hope you won’t be mad at me! mwah! enjoy your promised letter!

sincerely yours, nikki❞

Genre: Kinda angsty, kinda fluffy. Warnings: Cursing, crying.

Now, Akaashi is not one to forget about dates and birthdays. I’m pretty sure he has a notebook filled with everyone’s birthdays written in a chronological order. Needless to say, he’s someone who is extremely organized. 

He is the kind of boyfriend to remember all the slightest details you mention when you guys have a conversation. We’re talking about small details, pieces of informations that others wouldn’t necessarily pick up on except if your name is Akaashi Keiji. (I.E: he knows that Bokuto-san classifies his underwear according to each day of the week.)

The week leading up to your birthday, he makes sure to leave several notes stuck on your notebooks, laptop, mug, even your jacket to let you know how loved you are and how exceptional of a human being you are.

Unfortunately for you, your birthday has the misfortune of being set right during the revision week leading to the final exams. The latter are extremely important to Akaashi because missing his exams would result in him not being able to go to inter-school volleyball training held during the weekend. 

Even though he’s in a relationship, he can be quite distant when something is bothering him because he refuses categorically to drown you with his problems, revisions being one of them. He’s so driven to study hard (although he’s already an excellent student), that everything else appears as a blur to him- he breathes revisions, eats revisions, lives for revisions.

The latter causes him to inevitably forget about your birthday. At first, you just think he’s playing along with you and he has this huge and sweet surprise in store for you which might explain why he hasn’t left you any love notes or sent you any texts, or even avoid you at school.

The evening of your birthday, you crash down at his place, a bit perplexed at his antics. But, unconsciously, you were still in denial, you knew or at least hoped that he was just purposefully acting as such because he wanted to surprise you for your birthday.

When he opens the door and sees you, he has a quizzical look on his face “Um, hello, Y/N? May I ask what you’re doing here, dove?”

Now, it was your turn to have a quizzical look on your face, “So you really don’t know? Isn’t it, you know, a special day?” 

His mind is so coated by his obsession to study hard that nothing comes to his mind, nothing to answer to your interrogation and eventually, nothing to leave his mouth as a response. He could swear there’s something he has forgotten, it’s somehow on the tip of his tongue but no sound is echoed on his part. 

“You know what, Akaashi, just don’t make promises you can’t keep. I hope these notes you left me will help you.” 

First of all, you called him Akaashi instead of Keiji, meaning that there was something terribly wrong with him or his deeds.

Second of all, he looked carefully enough, there were pearls of tears on the corner of your eyes.

Third of all, he was so taken aback, as if all his memory had resurfaced in the blink of an eye that he still couldn’t find the strength to say something. Instead, his eyes wandered on your figure, his back facing you, already on your way home. The sole reflex he had was to raise his hand in your direction, as if he could catch your silhouette already long gone, hopelessly.

Daichi is already the (unofficial) dad of troublesome children (thank the heavens for mama Sugawara and uncle Asahi), which means not only he has to juggle between his duty as a captain and as a student, but he also must make sure of the stability of your relationship.

It’s really taking a toll on him. Seeing him come home late after late night practice is not even surprising anymore, he just comes to your place and crashes down for the night at unbelievable hours- sometimes ten, sometimes eleven.

His role of captain is so dear to his heart and he’s kind of an all or nothing kind of guy. But when it comes to the volleyball team, he pours every once of passion, patience and energy he has to offer. He knows that the first years have literally gifts when it comes to playing and he wants to exploit their potential at the fullest.

Nonetheless, when it comes to remembering dates, Daichi (being an unofficial dad) has the tendency to remember rather quickly common dates like birthdays, if not, he can always count on Suga to remind him in case he gets too hotheaded into what he’s doing.

On the day of your birthday, he sent you a myriad of texts, mini-novels if you will. All of them were the testimonies of the love he held in your regard, he was so thoughtful, each one of his word was carefully chosen to make you feel like the most loved person on the planet.

Starting the day off with a series of loving texts from your boyfriend is indeed the best way to wake up.

However, after close inspection, the last text he had sent you mentioned a date tonight at your favorite restaurant in town because, and I quote, “you deserve to be treated like the royalty you are.”

Focusing in class was almost impossible, the only thing occupying your mind was tonight’s date with Daichi, just the two of you on your birthday. And truth be told, there was no other way you’d rather spend this ever so special day.

Right after the bell rang, you made a beeline to your place to get ready as Daichi told you he would pick you up at 7, right after practice. Your heart was bursting with joy and impatience, a sweet mix of emotions which made you feel overwhelmed by love.

It was 7 already and your eyes were stuck on the alley of your house, waiting to see Daichi’s car arrive and admire the beautiful, lovestruck grin plastered upon his face. 

Then it was 8, and suspicions started to arise in your mind. Your head was clouded by interrogations : “Does he not love me anymore?”, “Is this is way of telling me we should break up?”

Then 9, then 10 and eventually 11.

You waited four hours to hear a sign from Daichi, and you couldn’t keep up with the countless texts you had sent him, wondering where he was. But, you still had hope. Heart-crushing hope that is, or maybe you were just stuck in pure denial.

You were sitting on a chair, several stains of tears on your cheeks already, facing the window which offered a view outside your house because “You never know, he might show up...”

At 11, your phone rang and Daichi’s number highlighted the screen. You were so quick to pick up the phone, your quickness was almost inhuman. 

“Baby? Hi, it’s me. Are you still awake?” You hummed in response, scared of the way your voice would break if you were to talk. “Listen, practice-...”, you cut him off : “Practice ran late again, I know, Daichi.”

There was a moment of silence on his end of the line, a moment of guilt.

“Baby, you have no idea how sorry I am. It’s just the team and the firs-...” - “I know, the gifted first years.” your voice was barely above a whisper.

“We can reschedule tomorrow if you want, I’ll ask Ennoshita to take care of the training for me.” He sounded desperate, eaten alive by the guilt consuming him and the fragile tone of your voice, you sounded like a broken record.

“Tomorrow won’t be my birthday anymore, Daichi, you know that.” You knew that if you were to hear the sound of his voice again, you were bound to break in tears, and as much as he hurt you, you knew it wasn’t his fault and you didn’t want to make him feel even more guilty than he already was feeling.

Instead, you hung up while he was still rambling about confused apologies and you headed straight to your room, head low, fresh tears crashing on the stains left by the dried tears. Like an eternal circle, if you will.

Kuroo is someone who is extremely observant by nature, just look at the way he behaves around Kenma- he doesn’t need for you to talk to know how you’re feeling and can directly dissect what’s wrong with you.

So when he finds himself having a one-sided discussion with you, (or a double-sided conversation if you deem silence as a worthy response), his brain automatically goes on retrospection mode and he’s trying to reminisce absolutely everything that happened during the last 48 hours.

The science-related puns don’t work, the teasing is a crushing defeat, all his best aces fail to put a smile on your face or make you crack a laugh. You’re still silent, or if he’s lucky enough, he can hear the faint sound of hum leaving your lips.

His last option is to ask Kenma because Kenma appears as an omniscient point of view in your relationship. And although he’s not directly involved in your couple, he always seems to find the responses to the riddles left by the cons of being in a relationship.

Kuroo and Kenma are having lunch outside, as expected of the blonde individual, his eyes are solely focused on the device held between his hands, but Kuroo is used to it. 

“Man, I just don’t get why Y/N is giving me the cold shoulder, it’s really weighing on my mind.”

“Are you sure you don’t know, or do you act as if you don’t know?”

“Ha? What do you mean?”

“Yesterday was Y/N’s birthday, just in case you hadn’t noticed.”

Oh... Oh! It’s time to panic, it’s time to leave his brain on overdrive and find a solution to make up for what he judged an inexcusable behavior. 

What broke his heart even more is when he imagined to put himself into your shoes, how heartbroken you must have felt, how alone you must have felt, he even wondered if you wanted to break up with him.

Sure, Kuroo was observant, but sometimes being a airhead got the best of him. Or perhaps in this case, the worse of him.

He froze, his mouth was set agape and kind of like Akaashi, in moments of panic, he didn’t know what to do. He felt defeatist, he knew that forgetting your birthday was a dealbreaker. He already thought of all the consequences of his actions, and he knew that none of these consequences would turn out good in any way.

He ran through the hallways like a madman, yelling to the other students to step aside as he did so. He knew where you were, and he felt so stupid for knowing your timetable off by heart but not being able to remember such a simple date as your birthday.

You were having lunch in class with your friends, and when a hint of a roster’s head peaked through the door, making hand gestures to silently tell you to come see him, you excused yourself and left the class under the puzzling looks of your friends.

To say that Kuroo was sweating was an understatement, he was absolutely shaking to death and he exuded guilt by every pore of his body. Your gaze landed on his face, and your expression seemed lifeless- where did the usual gleam in your eyes go? The shine in your eyes he loved so much?

“You’re free to insult me for the rest of my days on this planet. I know I messed up, I messed up so bad and I don’t even know how to-... Hey? Oi, Y/N, please, please don’t cry.”

If he needed yet another reason to feel guilty, that was his cue. The tears falling in cascade on your face, the scarlet tones of your eyes, everything about you screamed pure sadness.

Both of your hearts broke in unison, and the motion of his hands to capture you and hold him close to his chest was so experimental, as if he’d never held you in his arms in his entire life. 

“Why did you forget, Tetsu?”

“I swear on my life that it was unintentional. I know you won’t forgive me anytime soon and, kitten, you have every right to do so. I know it’s not an excuse but just believe me when I say that it was unintentional. I’m so sorry, you have no idea.”

“Just wish me a happy birthday instead of rambling.”

“Happy birthday, kitten, I swear I’ll make it up to you.”

As the manager of the volleyball team, you were Inarizaki’s pride and joy. You were a literal ray of sunshine, the embodiment of a gem and you were always cherished by the entire team for helping them so much.

You always made sure they drank enough, prepped several towels in case they sweated too much (they always did), listened to their problems, eased their doubts- you were undeniably perfect to them.

So perfect that Osamu, as well as the rest of the team, always wondered  how and why you ended up with his airhead of a twin, or rather, and I quote, “The useless piss-haired twin.”

To be frank, if it wasn’t for you, Atsumu would probably be dead by now. The cause of his death? Osamu himself? The whole team? His stupidity? We shall never know.

You cannot expect Atsumu to remember any specific dates, he even struggles to remember his own birthday which results in him asking when was his brother born and Osamu letting out a desperate sigh, wondering what on Earth did he do in his previous life to deserve such a twin.

Nonetheless, Osamu’s cooking skills came in handy. The whole team had agreed on celebrating your birthday, a kind of surprise birthday after practice if you will, because you were so good to them.

The divine smell of the cake didn’t go unsmelled (please help is that even a word?? no it’s not but i couldn’t say ‘go unseen’ because a smell can’t be seen like???) by none other than Atsumu himself. “Whatcha’ baking this for?” Osamu didn’t even bother to throw a glance in his twin brother’s direction “You should know, idiot.”

Safe to say that Atsumu got absolutely z e r o information from his brother whatsoever and was thus left in general incomprehension. He then figured that maybe it was someone’s birthday given how well looking the cake was, but whose birthday was it? Once again, z e r o idea.

After practice, the whole team gathered to show you the surprise they had in store for you- Kita had stuck some ‘happy birthday’ posters on the wall, Osamu had brought the cake and Aran had the gift from the whole team in his hands. The preparation was quick and efficient, all while you were changing in your more regular outfit in the locker room. 

Needless to say, Atsumu still had z e r o clue to whose birthday they were going to celebrate but the grin on his face still testified of how happy he was. 

When you exited the locker room to say goodbye to the rest of the team, you were absolutely overwhelmed by joy when you saw them gathered together, a radiant smile plastered upon their face, they were so proud of themselves and most of all, they were proud to be the reason of your happiness. 

Reflex kicked, both of your hands covered your mouth and your vision quickly became blurry from the pearls of tears gathering at the brim of your eyes. To say that you were happy was an understatement, you felt so moved, so touched that this whole surprise was for your birthd-

“Hold up, I thought it was mom’s birthday? Who’s the cake for?”

The look on Osamu’s face screamed “Someone hold me back before I kill this idiot with my bare hands.”

Kita threw a volleyball at the back of Atsumu’s head.

Suna was crying on the inside out of desperation.

Hitoshi was holding Osamu back.

The rest of the team eventually ganged up on Atsumu for even daring to forget their sweet angel’s birthday while you were standing there, dumbfounded to say the least, torn between crying and laughing.

You didn’t even need to make Atsumu pay for his mistake, the team had made sure to make him pay for the next ten years (if I’m being generous.)

So... Happy birthday... I guess?

#akaashi headcanons #akaashi x reader #akaashi hc #akaashi hcs #akaashi keiji #daichi sawamura #daichi #daichi x reader #daichi sawamura x reader #daichi headcanons #daichi hcs #daichi hc #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo #kuroo testurou #kuroo hcs #kuroo headcanons #atsumu miya #atsumu #atsumu x reader #haikyuu atsumu #atsumu hcs #atsumu headcanons

[babytortie]

so pretty

so pretty ❘ eddie kaspbrak x reader.

a/n: so this was already in the works but then it was requested by an anon - omg can u do eddie smut bae, like i just read ur eddie imagine.

* i hope this lives up to what they wanted. also !! i loved writing this so thanks for pushing me to finish it. :)

summary: in which eddie changes his look and overcomes his anxiety which causes him to gain the confidence he needed to finally make a bold move on his best friend(reader).

warnings: some fluff, mainly s m u t. <3

contains: blonde!!dom!eddie, teasing, begging, hair tugging, fingering, degradation, rough, and unprotected sex.

* all characters ( including reader ) of the loser's club are seniors and 18 in this one-shot.

~ 2.8k words.

in january, the day after winter break of your senior year was when everything started to change for you. it was when eddie decided to move out of sonia's home and into richie's. he'd had enough of his mom and her crazy theories of how he was gaining new sicknesses. though, it was also when he blossomed into the person he was meant to be. 

eddie walked into derry high early that morning with his brunette curls now dyed blonde, a dark shirt resting over a pair of ripped jeans, and with his fingernails painted black. every girl turned and glanced, and only realized it was eddie kaspbrak after a double take. he didn't care about those glances or the glares from the boyfriends of the girls who stared at him. all he was worried about was how you would think of him and his new look. 

the other six members of the club knew of his crush on you for years. even richie was jealous when you joined the group but that evaporated when the three of you became the inseparable trio. you had a teasing sibling bond with richie, who always made you laugh at his new jokes. though with eddie, it was anything but platonic.

you and eddie weren't exactly just friends but it wasn't labeled as any kind of relationship either. when you hung out at the houses of the other members for movie nights, he always sat next to you and cuddled. or at parties, he stood behind you the whole time with his arms wrapped around your waist and chin resting on the top of your head.

what the losers really questioned was when you all hung out and why two friends held hands in public. they didn’t even know that you also kissed his cheek when he walked you home. though a couple of times, eddie’s cheek accidentally turned and you ended up kissing him on the lips instead. neither you or eddie broke wanted to break the kisses at first and almost always continued it for a good moment or two. 

unfortunately for either of you, the kisses were never talked about. this because of the constant anxiety over potentially ruining the friendship. then again it was eddie. you were comfortable with him and knew he wouldn't hurt you or go behind your back.

some days you subtly watched him (or so you thought) when he was talking, smiling, or laughing, and you wondered if he was your soulmate. richie and beverly would catch you staring and see how much your eyes shined while gazing at him. it was a weird limbo that you've constantly tangoed with him for the past year and a half. neither wanting to overstep but constantly doing it anyway without realizing. 

it was almost like the two of you were meant to be and everything was easy. eddie knew you like the back of his hand. his very attractive hands that were covered with rings now. holyshit.

when he found you, you were going through the books in your locker. he walked up to you and slipped his arm around your waist. you smelled his cologne and leaned back into his chest, smiling that he was in your presence. eddie leaned around your side to peck a quick kiss on your cheek and that's when you noticed the blonde from the corner of your eye.

you turned around so quickly that eddie thought it gave you whiplash. you didn’t let the quick dizziness bother you and instead put your fingers through his hair. he let out a small groan at how good the small massage was and bent his knees so he could come down to your level. eddie was face to face with you and he could easily make out how memorized you were by his curls. "oh my god eds!" when you finally let go, he frowned. “is that good or bad?” he laughed nervously.

eddie grabbed your hand back from when you placed it at your side and interlocked your fingers with his. you looked down at your joined hands and curled your fingers around his tightly to give a good squeeze of reassurance and he calmed instantly. “definitely good eds, definitely.” eddie smiled sheepishly and blushed in return from your acknowledgement.

the other six members of the loser’s club stood down the hall and could see how red his cheeks were by the close proximity. "he’s lapping it up." stan rolled his eyes and spoke up to break the silence from the group watching you and eddie converse. “o-oh shu-ut it,” bill instantly knew stan was jealous that he wasn’t getting any attention from his boyfriend. the stuttering eighteen-year-old put his arm around the curly blonde-haired that he loved and it hushed him. bill smirked and watched him blush when he kissed stan’s cheek.

richie looked around at the other couples and realized he and mike were the only single one’s left. at least he hadn’t taken a ‘vow’ of celibacy like stan suggested he should do. “you think y/n will put in a good word for me with sonia when she finally gets with eddie?” richie asked and patted mike’s back which he swatted right off of him. 

beverly retrieved the purse from her locker and unzippered it to grab her chapstick. she looked over at the other’s and mumbled in response. “define finally because that could be tomorrow, a week from now, or even years at this rate.”

and that’s how it went the next couple of weeks. you and eddie would take two steps forward and then two steps back. it was a constant annoyance and the bet between the other’s grew higher every day. richie bet all of his paycheck from the arcade that he now worked at and beverly bet a couple bucks from her work at the movie theater. even bill chimed in and bet some of money he earned from the drawings that he sold to a store down in town. it was complete chaos and yet the two of you were still oblivious.

or so the other’s thought, while the eight of you were at a party now. you and eddie were both a little tipsy from drinking earlier and he was dancing rather closely with you. your small hands were placed around his neck and fingers once again laced throughout his hair. 

he held your sides delicately and his rings glistened when they hit the light. eddie's smile was infectious and every time without fail when you looked at him, you caught yourself and looked down with flushing cheeks. what the hell is happening? why does this feel different than any other time?

finally, after the third time of you doing this, he smirked knowing the effect he had on you and took one of his hands from your waist. the blonde placed his finger on the bottom of your chin and tilted your head up slowly. your eyes widened when they reached his and you tried turning but he held your gaze firm. “what’s the matter sweetheart?” he inquired so casually as if you weren’t trying to squeeze your thighs together. 

his brown eyes stared into yours, a unique shade that he always claimed was his favorite color. as he waited for your reply he glanced down and took in your outfit. he admired the way your dress hugged your curves in just the right places. you swallowed nervously at how close in contact you were and the fact you felt like he was looking right into your soul. even though you knew it that belonged with his from the start of your friendship. 

other people in school always talked in the hallways about how they thought you were soulmates and even about lying. they thought you were actually together but in denial with telling everyone because of how much you and eddie always clung to each other. like right now, you danced with him and watched as he took in a glimpse of you while feeling like your whole body was on fire. “nothing’s wrong eds, promise.”

mike and stan stood off to a corner and waited for bill and richie to bring them back drinks. beverly and ben were in their own little bubble dancing a few feet away from you and eddie. mike watched beverly and ben dance then looked at the two of you, raising an eyebrow in stan’s direction. “what’s up with them?” the curly haired one looked away from mike to see you two dancing then back at him, rolling his eyes and taking the drink from bill’s hand. “i think the bet is ending tonight.”

richie dumped back his beer and input his own comment about the current topic. “hell yes! then i’m one step closer to being off the market.” he snickered but fell quiet when a girl walked by and left a lingering smell of peach fragrance behind. “b-beep beep richie!” bill nudged the trashmouth who only escalated his behavior and risked bumping into irritable stan’s shoulder.

thankfully bill’s boyfriend simply brushed it off but by doing that quite literally so, which caused richie to wholeheartedly laugh at the dramatics. trashmouth put his red cup in the area towards your direction, signaling for the others to look and they nodded. shit eating grins were on each of their faces and for once, everybody was in agreeance.

eddie glanced over at the four and shook his head. you followed his movement and chuckled at richie being over the top as usual. “want to get out of here?” he asked. it was common for the two of you to sneak off and be in your own little world with him. you smiled and let go of his neck and held out your hand for him to take. he grasped onto it and let you lead him out from the small crowd in the living room.

ten minutes later, you were sitting on eddie’s bed in his temporary room at richie’s house. you grabbed his hand and played around with the rings on his fingers. one of them caught your eye and he noticed, making a mental note to give it to you later. “so, what did you mean by the comment earlier?” you asked and cursed at the twinkle in the blonde’s eye. he gripped your side to pull you closer and your breath hitched when he leaned into the crook of your neck. 

eddie placed a feather-like kiss onto the sweet spot of your shoulder and instant goosebumps appeared all over your soft skin. you cleared your throat before you could let yourself talk incoherently. eddie grinned into your skin before looking up at you and you almost fainted at the dazed look. whispering hoarsely, you asked him, “are you sure?”

eddie nodded and that was all you needed to lean into his kissable lips. he put his hand on your cheek and moved in closer. you moaned when his tongue touched yours and he smirked. your teeth clunked with his when you roughly gripped the blonde strands on the nape of his neck. he broke apart from your lips and moved to push your shirt up, which you helped in doing and then greeted his lips again for another rough kiss. eddie palmed your perfectly molded chest and you let out a whine.

he chuckled and kissed your neck and then slowly made his way down. eddie started at the middle of where your breasts met and you shivered when his warm breath touched you. “you have no idea how-” kiss. “long,” kiss. “i’ve, kiss. “wanted,” kiss. “to,” kiss. “do,” kiss. “this,” kiss.

your body practically spasmed at the euphoria feeling of him worshipping your body. he unclipped your bra and kissed the top of your left and right breasts. moving down more, he also kissed the middle of your stomach and on each side of your waist as he slid down your ripped shorts. it was when you felt like you could orgasm from just that alone when he kissed the inside of your thighs.

“ok, ok eds. i think we’ve waited long enough!” you tried to hold on his hair to get him up from his position and for him to quicken the movements but, the smug bastard ducked at your attempt. eddie knew what he was doing when he slowly slid down your panties. he slipped a finger over your folds and you groaned when you knew that eddie now knew how easily he turned you on.

“this all for me sweetheart?” you rolled your eyes, a classic stan move but it was ruined when you smiled embarrassingly. “no eds. sorry it’s for richie.” he glared playfully at you and pulled his shirt up and off in a seductive way that shut you up instantly. holyshit. when did he start working out? he unbuttoned his pants and shoved them down, stepping out of them. your mouth watered at the sight of him after he took off his boxers.

he admired the sight of you all spread out for him then climbed back over on top of you. your skin tingled when his finger tip brushed inside your body. “so pretty, sweetheart.” eddie kissed you again with everything he had and you melted into him when he fingered faster. you felt how hard and ready he was for you when you pressed up into him after he angled and curled two fingers inside of you. he swallowed your gasps at the feeling of him continuously hitting your g-spot. “please.” you whined into his mouth. 

he looked at you and how pretty you were, which you could say the same about him but there wasn’t enough time to do so when you felt him lining up and pressing against you. eddie pushed inside of you slowly at first. it was almost painful but it stopped when you grabbed his hair and begged for him to go faster. he grabbed your wrists and put them above your head and quickened his pace inside you. 

you babbled and chanted his name when his hips hit yours harshly. eddie leaned down to kiss your shoulder and grinned wolfishly at the way you looked. “you look so pretty like this, y/n. vulnerable and breathless under me. such a good girl.” it was so overwhelming and attractive that you gripped him in a vice at the comment. it was still baffling at the fact that your best friend was fucking you. “i bet richie couldn’t fuck you like this.” you looked at him with widened eyes but didn’t deny the comment so he continued going. 

“you’re my dirty girl, aren’t you?” he wanted a response so he grabbed a big section of your hair and tugged. you nodded as he slammed into you repeatedly and you could feel a bundle in your belly working you up. eddie scooted closer in between while moving himself inside and out of you and kneeled in between your legs. he smirked at your helpless look and pushed your legs apart even further to spread them open for him. 

he looked down at you on display just for him and he moved his hand to position it down and on top of your clit. he flicked it once before rubbing and you gasped. seconds later after a few more pumps inside of you is when you released all over him with him closely following. he looked down at you with a blissful face and kissed your puffed lips that were smeared with red lipstick. eddie collapsed next to you on the side of the bed and turned on his side to look at you.

the sight of you still took his breath away. even with the smeared lip stick and messy hair. he desperately wanted to make you his.“i hope it wasn’t too much?” you poked eddie’s side at his question and he laughed. “no way eds, it was perfect.” you smiled. he cupped your face and looked into your eyes. “i know it’s kind of past asking but do you want to be my girlfriend y/n/n/?”

the next morning, you were in your boyfriend’s arms and holding a mug of coffee in your hands. the two of you broke apart at the sound of a door shutting and of course, richie appeared. he took in your appearance with eddie’s arm wrapped dangerously low around your waist. you looked at the trashmouth who was wearing a wrinkly shirt, along with his hair being all disheveled and poking up in different directions. “long night?” you asked. he snickered and pointed at ed’s your shirt and in a cocky attitude retorted back at you. “more like great night but it looks like you did too.” richie quickly walked by before you had the chance to reply. he wanted to call the others about the bet money while changing for school. before he shut his bedroom door though, richie smirked at the question eddie asked you.

“is that peaches i smell?” you shook your head at ed’s question and his hold on you tightened at your mocking. he smiled at you when you leaned back into his arm and angled your head upwards for another kiss. who knew he could have his best friend and girlfriend all in one?

© babytortie on tumblr + wattpad.

#it 2017 #it 2019 #stanley uris #stanley uris it #richie tozier it #trashmouth tozier #it chapter 1 #it chapter one #it chapter 2 #it chapter two #eddie kaspbrak #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak it #bill denbrough #bill denbrough it #it richie tozier #it eddie kaspbrak #it stanley uris #stan uris #love #romance #fluff #derrymaine #the losers club #thelosersclub imagine #eddie kaspbrak x reader #eddie x reader #kaspbrak x reader #the losers x reader

[bittykimmy13]

Wounds (GT Angst)

This is a Shot in the Dark AU known at the “Dark Future AU”.

Fairies have been exposed to the world. Bounties have been placed on their capture. They’re not going down without a fight.

Characters belong to me and the lovely @marydublin5 / @little-miss-maggie​ , creator of the rad header image  <3

Warning: Blood

(( More Dark Future AU ))

A human in the safe house.

It was unheard of. The news spread through the halls like wildfire, accompanied by frantic questions of potential evacuation. If one human had found the haven, surely a mob of them would soon breach the glamour barrier and capture every last fairy.

That morning, Zia only heard about the rumors and chaos secondhand. If evacuation was necessary, it would have been underway by now, she assured herself. Though she was chilled at the thought of a human somewhere on the grounds, she continued tending to her patients and studying diligently to be prepared for whatever wounds were brought before her. 

During the past months, the healing ward had been so packed with the influx of arrivals that she scarcely found time to eat or sleep, let alone chase rumors. She couldn’t afford to lose sight of her role’s importance. Fairies showed up half-dead from their exhausting journeys, sometimes harboring injuries from humans.

Never had the world been such a hostile place for her kind.

“Saffron. Maeve.”

Zia looked up from her book, where she had been carefully studying an incantation for healing burns. 

It was Audrine who had spoken. She looked more vexed than usual as she entered the healing ward with three unfamiliar fairies in tow. They didn’t appear to be injured, but they had the wide eyes of new arrivals who were no strangers to suffering. Saffron and Maeve, the leaders of the ward, assigned nearby healers to their patients and hurried to Audrine. Zia tried to focus back on her spellbook, but she couldn’t help but overhear

“I’m sure by now you’ve heard about the human,” Audrine said, skipping the pleasantries. “Well, we have a bit of a situation. Which is to say, we have a clusterfuck of a situation. The human brought these three with him, claiming he wanted to get them somewhere safe.”

“It’s true,” murmured one of the new arrivals, whose face flushed when he was ignored.

“Naturally, we can’t let him leave. He knows where and how to find us.” Audrine cast a sour look at the three fairies, who must have led the human through the glamour barrier—their most reliable line of defense. “He put up no resistance to being taken to one of the south wing dormitories. We have our best guards—excluding myself, at the moment—watching him.”

Saffron, normally a picture of gentle composure, pushed himself in front of Maeve protectively. “What does this have to do with us?”

Audrine sighed. “He’s injured. And our new friends say he is worth being healed.”

“He saved us!” the same arrival blurted.

“He… he and his other human friend broke in to save some girl with a traitor mark,” said another, a young woman. “His friend was killed. The girl became unstable. She was an ice affinity. She froze the whole room and killed all the humans in it—all except for him. She told him to save us. S-she… she didn’t make it. Her own magic consumed her.”

By then, Zia was openly staring, along with everyone else in earshot.

“Please,” said the third arrival, who couldn’t have been older than seventeen. She looked to the lead healers, voice hitching. “You have to help him! He’s hurt so bad. All he did was wrap up his wounds. The blood’s showing. He doesn’t even seem to care that he’ll die.”

That finally seemed to make Saffron waver. He shared a look with Maeve, who bit her lip and said, “His injuries are that serious?”

“I’ll do it,” Zia said, the words flying out before she could stop them. When all eyes turned to her, she squared her shoulders. “Take me to him.”

Saffron shook his head. “Zia, we don’t know the danger this man poses.”

“All the more reason I should go,” she said. “You won’t let Maeve go alone, and she won’t let you go alone. And… if he is dangerous, the safe house can’t afford to lose both of you. I’ll go.”

“Excellent, glad it’s settled.” Audrine beckoned Zia to follow before there could be any protest. Nodding curtly at the lead healers, Audrine left behind the new arrivals and all but pushed Zia out of the healing ward. “She will be guarded. If the brute dares to lay a finger on her, that finger will be incinerated.”

Glowing orbs hung all around the safe house, pushing back the night’s darkness. Zia and Audrine flew through the foyer, past the enormous staircases, and crossed into a part of the building that had not been structured with fairy accommodations yet. It made sense to keep the human in the south wing, where fairies rarely wandered. However, Audrine did need to shoo off a group of teenagers who were trying to peek into the corridor to catch a glimpse of the human.

Most of the doors in the expansive hall were open. A group of five fairies hovered at attention in front of the last dormitory.

“Any issues?” Audrine questioned Emiko, one of the guards.

“He’s hardly budged,” he said.

“That’s as good a sign as any.” Audrine turned to Zia. “Are you ready?”

Zia squinted past the doorway. Something fearful fluttered in her stomach. There were hardly any lights in the room, but she could see a massive form sitting at the edge of a human-sized bed. She had the peculiar and frightening feeling of looking into a monster’s den. 

Humans had always been a threat, but the past months had proven they were more than that. They were apocalyptic. And she was about to put herself within reach of one.

He’s hurt.

“I’m ready,” Zia said in a small voice.

She entered the room flanked by Audrine and Emiko. The human raised his head as they approached. As her eyes adjusted, she saw that he was hunched forward, arms folded on his lap. A tingle ran along Zia’s skin as she sensed the injuries upon his body—puncture wounds that could have only been made with human weapons. Even a non-healer could have smelled the blood. It was a wonder he was still conscious.

The three of them came to a stop in front of the human. Dark as it was, he seemed to cast an even deeper shadow over them.

“What do you want?” His voice rumbled like thunder when he spoke, but Zia had a feeling he was barely muttering.

Audrine made a noise of contempt. “I want nothing more than to have you bleed out somewhere outside. The mess would be easier to clean up.”

“Fine by me.” The human grunted and started to rise.

Zia cried out involuntarily, covering her mouth too late to stop the noise. He was even bigger than she could have imagined. Audrine and Emiko immediately shouted incantations and ignited spells to their hands. The human looked between them with narrowed eyes before lowering himself back to the bed.

“Careful,” Audrine said. “If you frighten away your sweet little volunteer, I doubt you’ll be getting another.”

The human's overwhelmingly sharp green gaze settled on Zia. “Volunteer? Don’t tell me this is some kinda creepy sacrifice thing, ‘cause I’m not in the mood.”

“I’m a healer,” Zia said, wincing at how her voice cracked. She tried to compose herself and face him the way she would any other patient. “I’m here to help you. Can you point out what’s hurting the most—”

“No healers,” the human growled, leaning away from her like she was poison.

Zia stared, speechless. Considering the lengths humans had gone to abuse fairies for their magic, she hadn’t even considered that he would turn down the opportunity to be healed.

“Are you an idiot?” Audrine flitted closer in response to his retreat. “You’re lucky you weren’t killed the moment you stepped through the barrier! She’s offering to save you from a slow and painful death. Be grateful. That is, if humans have the capacity for it.”

The human tensed, and Zia’s eyes darted to his hands, certain that he would snatch Audrine out of the air to crush the life out of her. But he merely heaved a sigh and pressed his fingertips to his brows. 

“No healers,” he said with a note of pleading. “Just leave me the fuck alone.”

Audrine hissed, clenching her fists at her sides. “You do not tell me what to do, you overgrown, thankless—”

Zia cleared her throat. “Audrine?”

She rounded on Zia with a glare. “What?”

Fiddling with her fingers, Zia was somehow more nervous than when the human was looking at her. “You’re very good at a lot of things,” she said delicately. “But I don’t think this approach is working. Do you think… I could have some space with him? And more light?”

Emiko looked at Zia like she'd gone mad. “Leave you alone with him?”

“I’m not helpless. You can watch from the door if you like. Just some space, please.”

Crossing her arms, Audrine reluctantly pulled away from the human. “Stay sharp, Zia. He could lash out at any moment.”

“I won’t,” the human muttered.

“And if he continues to refuse your generosity, don’t bother with him.”

Zia nodded, though she had no intention of leaving the room until the human’s wounds were healed. Audrine and Emiko sent out more orbs to fill the room with light. As her view of the human was cleared of shadows, Zia felt the spike of intimidation drive deeper. She tried to see past his size and found her heart breaking for him. He looked positively wrung out. He had a handsome face, no doubt about it, but his expression was cold and empty.

As Audrine and Emiko gave her the space she requested, she couldn’t stop thinking about what the new arrivals had said about the human. When his eyes slid to her, however, she blanked for a few seconds.

“I’m Zia,” she managed, folding her hands in front of her.

“Cliff.” The response alone seemed to exhaust him. “Look, sweetheart, I appreciate it, but I already said no—”

“No healers. I know. But what about some company instead?”

“You don’t want to be here. I’m scaring the daylights outta you.”

“Says who?”

He looked her up and down, heaving a sigh like a gust of wind. “You think you’re fooling anyone? You’re shaking like a leaf. Just go.”

“I’ve never been this close to a human,” she said. “I can’t help but be a little… nervous.”

“You should be more than nervous. Healers have it especially rough out there.” His fists clenched on his lap. “You stay the fuck away from other humans, you hear me?”

Her breath caught. It was distressing to process that level of anguish on such a large face. “I heard what the new arrivals said,” she murmured. “I’m sorry about your friend. And… and the ice affinity girl.”

“They were my family,” he snapped, making her flinch. Her fright eased when he looked a little sorry for startling her. He blinked hard and swiped tears from his eyes before they could fall. “Sylv,” he rasped. “And J—” His voice choked off, mouth pulling into a tortured grimace as he doubled over on the bed and heaved a sob.

“Cliff?” She was surprised to feel tears pricking at the back of her eyes. Flying in tentatively, she reached out a shaking hand to touch his knuckle. She looked up and tried to catch his gaze. “I’m so sorry,” was all she could say.

He shuddered. “It should’ve been me.”

“It shouldn’t have been any of you!” Her own tears finally began to fall. Her voice wobbled, and she pressed on nonetheless. “But you’re here. And I want to help. Please, Cliff… Let me heal you.”

“Don’t you know what’s happening out there?” His voice rose, and he practically shook her off. “Fairies are being caged in iron until their magic is needed for study or whatever sick shit the researchers decide it should be used for. Healers like you are being forced to use their magic. If they don’t comply, they’re tortured. Hell, they’re tortured anyway. I’m not taking anything from you. Not one fucking drop of magic. Don't waste your generosity on a human.”

“You’re not taking,” she insisted, flying up closer to his face and persisting when he tried to turn away. “I’m giving. You saved some of our own, and we’re grateful. Please. Let me do this, and we’ll be even. The ice girl… Sylv. She used her magic to save you, didn’t she?”

His gaze snapped to her, and for a moment, she worried she had crossed a line that would awaken his true human nature. But sorrow flooded in.

He swallowed hard. “She told me… to save as many as I can.”

In that moment, she knew that she was not looking at an enemy, monster, prisoner, or whatever else Audrine and the others wanted to think he was. Maybe even he needed to be convinced that he was none of those things. Pursing her lips, she tried to look at his face and not at the bloodied bandages she so desperately wanted to pull away and heal. 

“We’re trying to save as many as we can, too,” she murmured. “Do you want to help?”

Their eyes met, and she did not flinch away as he studied her. Something shifted in his gaze. He gave a nod that was barely perceptible even at his size.

Zia inched toward a soaked red bandage on his upper arm. “Well, you can’t help us if you’re dead.” She started to tug, but it was wrapped too tightly for her to make any progress.

With a sigh, he unwrapped the wound and allowed himself to be healed.

#gt #giant tiny #giant #tiny #size difference #gt angst #gt writing #g/t #g/t writing #fairy #fairies #shot in the dark #dark future au #zia #saffron #maeve #audrine #emiko #cliff #mywriting

[imagine-lcorp]

Enchanted (One Shot)

Request

Can you do one where Lena gets kissed by a girl at a masquerade party aka Reader who works at L-Corp's lab (she had had the longest crush on her boss) and it's the first time Lena has kissed a woman. Lena is smitten by that kiss and the stranger in a beautiful mask and the only distinct recognition she has is a tattoo on their wrist. They dance and talk during the party. Finding common interests and likes. Lena falling for R harder. R plays everything surprisingly cool despite her heart hammering in her chest. Must be the wine. Lena tries to hunt down the stranger in every way she could think of. One day just as she was falling in total despair she frozes at L-Corp cafeteria when she sees a lab worker paying for coffee and their sleeve rise high enough to reveal the tattoo Lena recognizes. The rest is up to you ^^

A/N: Ok so I know I took my time with this one, but it was so much fun and I’m so happy I could finish it!! Guess I’m gonna be really productive this quarantine. Pls enjoy!

Lena Luthor x Fem!R|Modern Cinderella AU//Word Count: 2,550 -------------------------------------------------------

Two glasses of wine in and you're still not sure how your best friend managed to drag you at a masquerade party. Not that you weren't enjoying the glamour of it, with the withe tables, the fine silverware, the music, a surprisingly well done mix of classical music with a great beat, and the overall fanciness of it all, but it definitely wasn't what you were expecting to do on a Friday night. That and the fact that your friend had disappeared a while ago, leaving you to wander around the place all by yourself.

"Come on, (Y/N), I got us invitations to one of the best and most exclusive parties in National City." She had said as you arrived in her car.

She stopped in front of the hotel that was hosting the party and handed you masquerade mask, selected especially for her to go with the outfit she had also chosen for you to wear tonight.

"Whoever thought, having a masquerade party was fun must have a serious obsession with Disney princesses." You took the mask form her hand and looked at it.

"Could be, but I'm not about to question the person who did all of this and who is letting me enjoy it for free." She said adjusting her own mask on her face.

"Didn't you sell your soul to the devil for the invitations or something?" You put on the mask and looked at the rear view mirror making sure you looked as good as your friend had pretended with the outfit.

"Yeah, yours included. Now, shut up and have some fun." She turned to look at you and smiled."And who knows? Maybe you'll find your Disney princess."

It had been a couple of hours already since you arrived and the only thing you had found was yourself back again at the bar, asking for your third glass of wine. You tried to enjoy the party, just like your friend had said, but it was difficult considering you were there by yourself and you had no idea who were all these people. However, you couldn't completely blame your friend for all of this. She was just making sure you had some other activities besides staying at home watching tv or at work... drooling over your boss.

When you moved to National City you had no idea you would actually land that job at L-Corp and you of course weren't aware Lena Luthor could be that awesome in person. You were collaborating in one of the many projects the company had but she was always involved in every single one of them, making sure the team had everything you needed to continue with the research and talking to the heads of the projects at least once a month.

You didn't even talk to each other and there was no real need for that since you were just a lab technician but it was ridiculous the way it made you feel when she was in the same room. It was obvious she was as beautiful as she was smart and that was enough to make your brain collapse. Having a crush on Lena Luthor had been unexpected, just like hearing her voice beside you.

You turned your face and turned it again so quickly it could have given you whiplash, with just a quick glance you were sure Lena Luthor was attending the same party as you. She had walked to the bar along with someone else, and you stood there waiting for your own glass of wine, tapping your fingers impatiently on the marble table of the bar, and panicking over someone the presence of someone you hand't actually meet. Your whole body as you kept waiting for you wine and even if it wasn't your conscious intention your ears only registered her voice.

Her conversation didn't seem enjoyable at all. The man who accompanied her was trying to have some kind of conversation that Lena wasn't even trying to follow, if anything she sounded annoyed, responding with only a yes or no or a nod, as he raised his voice making sure she was listening to whatever he was saying. It was clear she wasn't interested. The man wasn't getting the hint, and you wanted nothing but to take her away from that uncomfortable situation.

Then, you weren't sure if you were going to regret it or not, you didn't know if it was the alcohol already running on your system or the advantage of anonymity the mask on your face gave you but, you did something.

As soon as the bartender put your glass of wine in front of you, you turned around to face them both.

"Hey, I knew I recognized that voice." You said taking the glass on your hand. "How did you find me? I went into the crowd twice thinking I had lost you! Here, I got your wine."

They both turned in your direction, and you could see the confusion through the holes in their masks. She only needed one second to figure what you were doing, and she wondered if she had really sounded as tired of the conversation she was having for someone to come and save her.

"Hey, yes, sorry." You handed her your glass and she took it from you automatically.

"Don't worry, I see you're making new friends." You pulled your best smile. "Who is this?"

"This is..." Lena looked at the guy next to her but couldn't remember his actual name.

"Just a guy she just met." He said with a cocky smile, trying to appear charming.

"Well, nice to meet you." You turned to face her. "Now, if I recall correctly, the next dance is mine. So, shall we dance, madame?"

"Of course." She said and took the hand you offered with a little bow.

"See you around, guy she just met." You waved behind him as you and Lena walked hand in hand to the center of the room, away from him. Your heart was hammering inside your chest and you prayed the hand that was holding hers wasn't as sweaty as you thought it was.

She let you drag her to one corner of the room and when you realized you had walked around for a good minute you stopped and turned to face her once more.

"Please, tell me I didn't actually ruin a potential date for you." You asked.

"No, not at all. His conversation wasn't that compelling to start with."

"So I heard." You thought about your words and felt your cheeks turn red. "Not that I was spying but he was really loud."

"Don't worry. In fact, I think I own you one... and a glass of wine too." She raised the glass to show it half empty. "Sorry."

You smiled at her and responded with more confidence than you knew you were capable of. "Maybe you can repay me with that dance. I also promise to make for an interesting chat."

"Deal." She chuckled, a sound so precious it threatened to melt your heart.

She had let you take her hand, guiding her once more among the crowd, and you found yourselves in the middle of the dance floor, with the thousand lights illuminating it and the music loud enough to fill the whole room. Then a dance soon turned into two and then three and so on, until you both tried a funky waltz none of you were sure how to dance.

"I think," she said after all your dances with a little panting, "it's time for a drink. Would you like to join me?"

"I would be delighted." You said and felt her hand on yours, leading you to the bar.

She was glad you accepted another glass of wine and she was even happier that you had kept your promise of an interesting conversation. Sitting at the bar, you talked and talked about nothing and everything. About the things you loved and hated, what you wanted, what you hoped, the crazy things you did or never did in your youth and the things that were yet to come.

Maybe it was the way you moved around or the way you spoke to her, like you had already met sometime, somewhere, but Lena imagined this connection she had started to feel with you had to do with the masks you were wearing. No introductions were needed. There was no need for a name, especially not a name like hers which people used to run from.

You were just part of the people, that big mass of singular personalities, drinking, twirling, chatting, laughing, without a care in the world, and if Lena ever believed in love at first sight she was sure this could very much be it.

You felt as if you were in a modern fairy tale and made a mental note to thank your friend for dragging you there. Never in a thousand lives you had imagined you would end up sharing the night with Lena Luthor and, even when you felt your heart could cause an earthquake, you thanked whatever god was out there for not making a fool of yourself.

However, every night and every tale has to come to and end and you had to remind yourself of that has your phone started to ring. Your friend's name was announced on the screen along with a message. You had to leave the party right away, she would do the explaining later.

"Something wrong?" Lena asked seeing a hint of worry in your eyes.

"I hope not." You cursed under your breath and put your phone back in its pocket. "Sorry, I really wish I didn't to, but I need to go."

You were leaving your seat when she quickly grabbed you by the wrist. You both looked at your hands and, for the first time, Lena noticed the little tattoo that covered the inside of your wrist. For a moment, it was all she saw but then looked at you remembering she had something to say.

"I'm Lena." She said with a small pause, hoping the revelation of her name wouldn't arouse any sign of fear or disgust. "Lena Luthor."

"Enchanted to meet you, Lena." You replied with a little smile. Then, almost on impulse and knowing this could be the only change you would get at it, you closed the distance between you two and kissed her. "I'm the girl you just met."

Just like that you were gone, and a kiss had never been as haunting for Lena as the one you gave her.

The night ended, and Lena went home already thinking on all the algorithms and possibilities she would need to find you again. Not an easy job, since you only left her with the feeling of your lips on hers, the first woman that had dared to kiss her and the image of your wrist tattoo. Even for a genius like her, it would take so much time to track you down with only the memories of that night to keep her going.

You, on the other hand, were still banging your head against the wall. As it turned out, the night of the ballroom party your friend had faced a little bit of trouble when she decided to steal a few boxes of snacks from the kitchen in the hotel. None had actually noticed but she swore she and the dude who convinced her of doing so were being followed and had to run away from the party before anyone could notice. So you had to drive with a coupe of drunk idiots who had stolen nothing but snack boxes already prepared for the guests.

The next morning, when you were safe back on her apartment and she was sober enough to listen to you, you told her everything that had happened.

"Wait, no. No, no, no." She had said. "So, you're telling me you left her there and didn't even give her your name?"

Yes, that's exactly what you had done and that was something she would never let you forget. The chance of a lifetime lost forever. But it was enough, you had thought. One magical night in the presence of Lena Luthor had been everything you never knew you needed. Besides, what could you had done after that? She was a genius entrepreneur, member of the still most influential families in the world and the owner of the company you worked for. At the end of the day, you were just you. So days passed and you continued with your daily routine with that night printing into your mind as a good memory. Although you wondered sometimes, what would have been if you had told her your name.

Those same days passes for Lena but it was slightly different. She kept looking for you but found nothing more than dead ends. There was no guest list where she could look up for your name, no surveillance that could show her your face behind the mask, and no place where she could look for you. You were a beautiful ghost dancing in the ballroom of her memory, threatening to make her crazy of she couldn't find you.

Then one day, against all odds, she found you.

It had been a busy morning in the labs and you had arrived almost late to your shift. You had been awake until late and needed some sleep. Thankfully, one of your coworkers had noticed your tired eyes and was kind enough to cover for you, so you could head to the cafeteria for a coffee to keep you awake.

You were about to pay for it when you heard her voice beside you.

"It is you."

Lena had been headed to one of the labs when she decided maybe the cafeteria could make for a good short cut. Some employees were already seated or ordering some food, some of them even saluted her. She was half way across the cafeteria when she noticed someone asking for a cup of coffee, nothing out of the ordinary, and she would have continued walking were it not for the mark she noticed in her wrist. The sleeve of her lab coat was high enough that she could distinguish that mark as a tattoo. It was just a couple of seconds but it was enough for Lena to recognize it as yours.

She approached you and just when you were paying for your coffee your sleeve rose again, proving she wasn't wrong.

"It is you." She said.

You had frozen for a moment with your cup in hand before you turned to look at your boss, at Lena, in front of you. The same green eyes that looked at you that night were looking at you right there and there was something in them that told you they had waited for this moment.

The chance of a lifetime that you thought had been lost forever was back at you. This was it, the chance to say the one thing you had forgot to say.

"Guess I own you a name." You said slowly, wondering what could happen now that there were no masks between you two.

"Yes, you do." She said with a tone that you didn't believe possible could sound both commanding and tender. She took a look at your ID and smiled. "Well, enchanted to meet you, (Y/N) (Y/L/N)."

#lena luthor #lena luthor imagine #lena luthor imagines #lena luthor x reader #lena x reader #lena luthor x you #lena x you #request #one shot #fem reader #Female reader #fem!reader #cinderella au #modern cinderella au #au #alternative universe #enchanted

[crookswithbooks]

More Than Just A Friend

Day Four - Kris is feeling uncertain doing the holidays without Asriel, and Susie discovers hidden feelings within herself. 

Susie shifted on the bed, shooting nervous glances over at Kris every once in a while, who sat reading a book, some comic or another, completely oblivious to Susie’s inner turmoil.

When Kris had asked her to stay for the holidays, as she had no one else to stay with, she had accepted immediately, feeling grateful and a little bashful that Kris thought of her at all. But now that she was here, in Kris’s room filled with things that made him Kris, she began to think about the long night (nights? They hadn’t quiet discussed how long this was lasting) ahead of them. Where would she sleep? Where would she get changed? Where would he get changed? Would they stay in the same bed? The questions swirled around in her head, making her more and more nervous as time went on, and Kris sitting there as if everything was completely normal was not helping.

Susie’s feelings for Kris were a recent development, one that had crept up on her quietly and quite unwillingly. She had noticed it one day when he had accidentally bumped her arm and her heart did backflips in her chest. She had tried to shove it down and keep her from accidentally ruining things with the only friend she had.

Though technically not only friend, if you counted Ralsei and Lancer; but that was still up for debate, whether they were even real or just figments of her imagination, all of which was all kinds of messed up if you though about it.

She had thought she had been dealing with these new feelings pretty well thus far, but being suddenly thrust into the same house as Kris for a week (weeks? Seriously she had no idea how long she was staying) was not doing any favors to her already raging crush.

“Sooo…” Susie started, after a minute of unbearable silence had passed. “What, uh, what have you been up to?”

Kris looked up at the sound of her voice, putting down his comic. “Nothing much. Hanging out with you, I guess.” He picked at a hole in his jeans that she hadn’t noticed before. “I got a letter from Asriel.”

“Yeah?” The subject of Kris’s brother was not one that came up often, and it was a rare moment when Kris himself brought him up. “What’d he have to say?”

Kris shrugged, ripping the whole wider. “Nothing much. Wished me a merry Christmas. He said things in college were going well, that he’d started to make a bunch of new friends.”

“That’s good,” Susie said, offering an encouraging smile, a rare gesture for her. “Right?”

Kris nodded, but his expression was vacant and closed-off, a look Susie was starting to get more and more familiar with. “Yeah, I guess.”

He picked back up his book and she realized with horror that the silence was going to begin again, but he paused, turning to look at her. “Hey, have you ever been kissed before?”

Her heart just about exploded in her chest at his words. “Uh… what?” she stuttered as he stared at her with innocent eyes. Two seconds ago they were talking about his brother and now he suddenly bombarded her with this? Where the hell was this going and how did they get here?

Kris scooched forward, which did not help. “A couple of the kids at school were talking about their first kisses and it got me thinking.” He crossed his legs, peering up at her. “So, have you?”

Susie could feel the burning on her cheeks and she only hoped that Kris didn’t notice. “Uh, yeah, of course I have.”

This was a lie. She had spent so long pushing people out of her life and cutting herself off from any potential friends, that she had never gotten close enough with someone for kissing to even be a possibility.

“I haven’t,” he confessed honestly, sitting back which she was both grateful of and disappointed by. “I’ve always wondered what it’s like, but I’ve never found someone who likes me in that way.”

Susie snorted at the irony of the sentence. “Really? You?”

Kris narrowed his eyes at that, frowning in confusion. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Susie was spared having to answer, as at that moment the door swung open and Toriel stuck her head in, smiling when she saw the two of them. The minute she opened the door the smell of fresh-baked gingerbread wafted through the room, and Susie could feel her mouth watering.

“I just wanted to tell you two that dinner’s ready.” The goat was staring between them with a knowing smile that made Susie flush, avoiding her gaze. The idea that even Kris’s mom knew about her feelings made her wonder how obvious she had been. Did Kris know? The thought made her stomach squirm uncomfortably, like there was a giant, nervous worm trapped inside.

“Make sure you wash your hands first, and for goodness sake’s Kris, clean up the mess on your floor.” Toriel gave him a stern look before disappearing back out into the hall, closing the door gently behind her.

Kris reluctantly slid off her bed, picking up the various comics and clothes spread about the room, spilling a pile of colored pencils into an emptied out pickle jar. Susie watched him do this, still jittery from the earlier question, not sure if she should bring it back up or let it go.

She still couldn’t believe that Kris hadn’t been kissed before. When they had travelled to the Darkworld he had been so kind to everyone, sometimes even being a little too nice, though she hadn’t known why it bothered her at the time. Surely he must have dated someone before.

“You coming?”

Kris was standing by the doorway staring expectantly at her, and she realized that he had finished while she was lost in thought.

“Yeah, I’m coming.” She shoved past him, ruffling his hair as she went.

“Susie,” he complained, ducking under her and glaring up at her. Despite his annoyance, she couldn’t help but find it cute when he tried to be angry. That was her thing, not his.

Dinner was spent in quiet silence as Susie shoveled food into her mouth, feeling a part of her soul die and go to heaven with every bite. It was a beautiful roast turkey with thick gravy drizzled generously over it, and combined with the mashed potatoes Susie might as well have been eating like a king. Kris picked quietly at his food, his mind seemingly elsewhere. Susie paused in her inhales, wondering if she should ask him about it.

Toriel beat her to it, however, turning her kind eyes towards Kris. “So honey, how have things been in school?”

Kris shrugged, the same noncommittal answer as earlier when Susie had asked him. “It’s been fine. Mr. Papyrus taught us how to make spaghetti in class today, for the third time in a row. We keep telling him we want to learn other stuff, but he insists that pasta is, quote, the greatest food item in the world and the most important foundation for learning to cook. I’m not so convinced. I’m not sure how many more ways we can learn to make pasta.”

Toriel smiled graciously, shaking her head. “Just the same as when we were kids. And you, Susie?”

Susie snapped her head up, surprised to be addressed. Gravy dripped down her chin and she wiped it off quickly. “What?”

“How are things going in school with you?” she repeated promptingly.

“Oh. Uh… nothing much, I guess. Haven’t been getting as much detention recently, as you probably already know.”

Toriel smiled wryly. “Yes, I’ve noticed, and I’ve been glad for it. I wouldn’t want Kris hanging out with someone who’s a bad influence.”

Susie nodded humbly, going back to her food, but Kris stood up from the table. Toriel and Susie both looked at him in surprise. “I’d like to be excused, please.” He whirled around, rushing out of the room suddenly.

Toriel stared after him in shock. “He barely even touched his food.”

Susie felt worry blossom in her chest. “I’ll go check on him, make sure he’s okay.”

Toriel smiled gratefully. “Would you? Thank you, honey.”

“Uh, yeah, sure,” Susie said, blushing at the nickname and hurrying off.

She found Kris in the living room, curled up on the couch. He had a book in his hands but his eyes scanned the pages dully, not taking in the words. She sat down next to him, feeling awkward and bulky next to his tiny frame. The sheer amount of awkwardness she felt around Kris nowadays days was wholly unfair.

She coughed to announce her presence and Kris glanced up. “Oh. Hey.”

“Hey,” she agreed. “So, uh, what was all that about?”

“Oh, that.” Kris looked back down at his book, flipping a page. “That was nothing. I just wasn’t hungry.”

“Kris.” Susie raised an eyebrow.

“It’s nothing, really.”

“Kris.”

Kris sighed, leaning his head back. “Fine.” He crossed his arms, not looking at her. “I just don’t like the way mom talks about you sometimes. Like you’re some kind of miscreant that’s leading me off the path of good, whatever the hell that means.”

Susie raised an eyebrow at the curse, but inside she was touched that Kris cared about her that much. She nudged his arm, grinning. “Aw, dude.”

Kris blushed, shoving her away. “Shut up. It’s just… I care about you, you know? You’re my only friend, and I hate that mom disapproves.”

Although the sentiment touched her, the word friend echoed around in her head, reminding her that that’s all they were. Friends.

“I’m sure she doesn’t mean it like that,” Susie reassured him. “She just doesn’t want you to do poorly in school on my account. I think she was just teasing, anyway.” She frowned, raising an eyebrow. “That’s not all this is about, is it?”

“No,” Kris sighed, looking away. “It’s also my first Christmas without Asriel here. It’s just weird not having him around the house, singing Christmas songs and helping to decorate the tree. I guess I just got used to things being a certain way and now they’re…”

“Not?” Susie finished.

“Yeah,” Kris agreed.

They sat in silence for a moment, both of them unsure what to say next. Finally Kris leaned over, resting his head on her shoulder. Susie froze, her body tingling with sudden electricity. “Thanks for being here,” Kris said, fiddling with his hands. “I really do mean it. Thanks for coming and spending the holidays with us when you didn’t have to.”

Slowly Susie relaxed, her expression settling into a smile. “Of course, man. If anything I should be thanking you for giving me somewhere to be for the holidays.”

Kris nuzzled closer and Susie relaxed against him, glancing up at the twirling paper snowflakes above them. That was when she noticed it. Mistletoe, hanging right above the two of them.

Susie snapped her gaze down to Kris, who noticed the sudden tension in his friend. “What is it?” he asked, sitting up much to her disappointment.

She pointed up, hoping he wouldn’t notice the furious blush on her face. Kris saw the mistletoe and his eyes widened in understanding. “Oh. Mistletoe.”

Susie was already making up excuses, blustering and gesturing wildly. “We don’t have to or anything. It’s a stupid tradition anyway and I wouldn’t want to make things weird, so it’s totally cool if you don’t want to—”

Kris cut her off, leaning in and pressing his lips to hers. Her eyes widened as she felt his soft lips, softer than you would think a boy’s lips would be. He pulled away, staring at her, his eyes just as wide as hers as though he hadn’t quite realized what he was doing.

Susie jerked back instinctively and Kris’s face fell immediately. “I’m sorry,” he said, holding up his hands apologetically. “I didn’t mean to, it just kinda—”

The rest of his sentence broke off as she grabbed him, kissing him again. A part of her didn’t believe what she was doing, but another part of her felt completely clam, as if kissing your best friend wasn’t a weird thing to do. They stayed like that for a minute, their lips locked together, and when they finally pulled apart both of them were panting for breath.

“Um, excuse me?”

They jerked around to look at Toriel, staring with a smirk between the two teens. “I was just gonna ask if you wanted some cookies, but maybe I should leave you two alone…?”

“Mom!” Kris exclaimed, his face going bright red. Susie would have been embarrassed as well but the sight of his blushing face was so uncharacteristically adorable that she couldn’t take her eyes off it.

“Right, right, of course,” Toriel said, winking subtly as she left the room. “I’ll just leave you two alone then to... continue your business. 

“Mom,” Kris groaned again as she left, burying his face in Susie’s shoulder. Susie glanced down at him, grinning a little. He glared up at her, but there was no venom in his gaze. “Oh shut up you.”

“Gladly,” she responded, pulling him in for another kiss.

Maybe the holidays weren’t going to be so bad after all…

#deltarune #susie #kris #susie x kris #undertale #twelve days of ficmas #fanfiction

[ramblingsrantsreviews]

13 Reasons Why: Season 3 - Character Thoughts

The third season of the controversial Netflix show 13 Reasons Why dropped on August 23rd. Since I am the world’s slowest binge-watcher, I recently finished the season and damn do I have some thoughts and opinions.

This isn’t the first time I’ve talked about this show here. I did a review for the very first season back in 2017 when it first aired. Two years later and here I am again trying to wrap my head around everything that occurred over the 13 episodes.

Since there’s a lot I want to stay and I am still processing the entire season, I figured I’d make a couple of different posts regarding the show. This one is going to be all about the characters and what I thought of them this time around.

So sit back, this might take a while.

Let’s start with our main character, the person of interest, and our hero Clay Jenson. I’ll be honest with you, Clay Jenson was never a favorite of mine.

His biggest flaw to me has been his need to place his crushes on a pedestal. He did it with Hannah, he did it with Skye, and he did it with Ani in this season. You’d think he’d learn his lesson but nope! The boy just keeps on putting unrealistic expectations on his crushes. He projects an imaginative version of his crush onto the real thing and it never turns out well for him. They’re never as pure as he thinks they are. They’re never as good-hearted as he thinks they are. They’re never truly who he thinks they are. And that’s his own damn fault. Yes, Ani shouldn’t have been lying about her friendship with Bryce but at the same time, Clay shouldn’t have thought that she never said two words to him.

Clay has a heart of gold. He will do anything and everything for his friends -- even if it means going down for a murder he didn’t commit. And he feels deeply. As Justin said, “He’s a good person. If he acts out of emotion, it’s because he fucking cares.” 

Clay, by definition, is a nurturer. He takes care of the people he cares about and he sees the best in them even when they don’t. He gave Tyler hope and courage, Justin a second chance on life, and Tony a friend he could rely on. What’s interesting, and not all that surprising is that Clay saw potential for greatness in almost everyone he met except two people -- Bryce Walker and Montgomery De La Cruz. That’s not a coincidence.

Going forward, I’d like to see Clay grow as a person without a romantic interested because the boy has real potential. And I’d really love to see him go to therapy. This is my plea to the writing staff -- GET CLAY A THERAPIST!

- - -

And then we have our new narrator and new character Ani Achola. Oh, Ani you had such big shoes to fill and you didn’t even come close to filling them.

One of the biggest issues I had with Ani’s character is that she came out of nowhere and suddenly she’s BFFs with these kids who barely like each other. I find it so hard to believe that she would be so quickly accepted within the tape squad -- especially when they’re harboring a giant ass secret about a foiled school shooting!

And it’s not only that she accepted, but it’s also the fact that they trust her. Never once does anyone ask Ani to leave when they’re talking to Clay about what really happened after Homecoming. NO ONE! It took Clay an entire season to get people to trust him and here comes Ani worming her way into everyone's business. I just don’t get it.

As if that’s not bad enough, she fucking lives with Bryce! Okay, she lives in Bryce’s guest house but still, she lives on the Walker’s property. You’re telling me the writers want me to believe that this group of teenagers who loath Bryce Walker are suddenly BFFs with a girl who lives on his property? Give me a fucking break.

The nonsense doesn’t even end there. This girl, this dumb new girl who hangs out with a group of people who loath Bryce and who were put through hell because of him decides that she knows him better than they do. That Bryce Walker has changed and suddenly he’s a good person. And then she has the audacity to fucking sleep with him! But she’s fearful of Clay — fucking Clay Jenson would couldn’t hurt a fly even if it landed on his dinner. The amount of hypocrisy that spews from Ani’s mouth is astonishing.

But don’t worry cause by the end Ani has come to her senses and spearheads the entire idea of placing the blame of Bryce’s death on Monty. Are we expected to applaud her a hero? I certainly don’t.

Ani Achola is nothing more than a talented manipulator. It’s no surprise she got along so well with Bryce who also has mastered the art of manipulation. Ani goes around telling everyone that she knows and sees things in people that they don’t see in themselves. She builds them up, learns all their secrets, and then slowly uses those secrets against them.

She did it with Jess — telling her she saw a badass girl inside her, learning she was raped by Bryce, and then fucking sleeping with said rapist. Not to mention she comes up with the ridiculous idea that Jess slept with Bryce to regain her power. COME ON! 

She did it with Clay — befriending him and earning his trust and love, knowing he had feelings for her and stringing him along, using his anger towards Bryce after what he did to Hannah against him to justify him being the murderer.

She manipulated every one of the core characters into trusting her so that they would spill their darkest secrets to them. And she made them believe that they needed to speak up so that they could protect Clay, but really, I think she was trying to figure out who killed her beloved Bryce Walker.

I don’t trust Ani. I hated how things ended with her telling her mother that she was seeing Clay — she didn’t even ask Clay first, she just assumed that he wanted the same thing. I’m skeptical and I will remain skeptical.

Also, if it isn’t clear enough, I don’t think she should have been the narrator of the season. This season could have followed a similar narrator pattern as season 2 did with each character narrating their own interrogation.

- - -

This season tried really hard to give redemption arcs to two irredeemable characters when it wasn’t necessary. The season already had its redemption story -- Tyler Down.

I was really hard on Tyler in the first season because let’s face it, he crossed a lot of boundaries. Lurking around the school and taking candids pictures of students for the yearbook is one thing. It’s an entirely different situation when stalked Hannah and took those pictures of her and Courtney. It was an invasion of privacy and at the time his crimes against Hannah ranked him extremely high on my list of hated characters.

Then, season two happened. Just like all sexual assault victims, Tyler did not deserve to be sexually assaulted. To this day, that is one of the most disturbing and jarring scenes of media I have ever consumed. I still get sick to my stomach thinking about it. Tyler was so affected it by it that it lead him to nearly become a school shooter -- thankfully, Clay stopped him.

Season 3 Tyler is the Tyler that the world deserved. We got to see Tyler deal with his trauma and the ups and downs with being a sexual assault survivor. In the end, Tyler becomes a happier and healthier version of himself. Yes, Clay and everyone who kept Tyler’s secret helped but it was really Tyler who did all the heavy lifting. Tyler was the one who had to want to get better and, though it took a while, he realized that he did want to get better.

Tyler went from a misunderstood, bullied teenager who felt so much hatred and fear that he was willing to kill to a happy teenager with a group of friends who truly care about him -- not because they have to but because they want to.

Tyler’s relationships with the other characters are really interesting because you can tell he’s very skeptical of them at first. He knows they’re just being friendly to him to ensure that he doesn’t do anything bad again. He feels like he’s being babysat and yet, he follows them around when he’s scheduled to because he knows they’re helping him. As the season progresses, we see these relationships develop into real friendships.

Tyler’s actions are redeemable not because of his past trauma but because he understood he was in the wrong. He understand he was making a poor choice because of the trauma he was facing. And he wanted to change -- he didn’t want to die. He realized he didn’t want people to hurt the way he hurt.

Not only was he a redeemable character, but his character is so important in the larger discussion of sexual assault and male victims. Tyler didn’t have to tell Clay or Jess or the entire school or anybody that he was a sexual assault victim. But he did and in doing so he allowed the world to see that, yes, men can be sexual assault victims too. When he stood up at the assembly and uttered the words “My name is Tyler Down and I am a survivor” he opened the door for his fellow male classmates, like Justin Foley, to stand up and live their truth. Not only that, but it made the other members of Hands Off realize that Tyler was more than an ally, he was a survivor.

I never thought I’d say this but Tyler is one of my favorite characters now. I hope we get to see him continue to thrive and maybe even help Jess run the Hands Off organization.

- - -

Justin Foley. I don’t know what it is about that boy, but I have loved him since day one -- I think it’s the puppy eyes. Don’t get me wrong, Justin has his flaws. He started the shit storm that leads to Hannah’s suicide by taking that picture of her at the park. And he played a part in the rape of his girlfriend, Jessica Davis by not doing more to stop it.

Now some might say, how could you forgive a character who let their girlfriend get raped? How could Jess forgive the boy who let her get raped? Unlike Bryce, Justin showed remorse instantly -- at least on the inside.

Like Tyler, Justin has a redemption arc, though his arc is still a work in progress. I absolutely loved how ride or die Justin was when it came to Clay. Justin couldn’t stand Clay in the first season and now the two are living together and on the road to being brothers. He was willing to lie to the police about his whereabouts that night to give Clay a solid alibi. He pulled Clay away from the Homecoming fight to protect him from getting hurt. And he was willing to lie to the Jensons, even after all they’ve done for him, to make sure that Clay wouldn’t go to jail.

Justin may have thought he found a brother in Bryce, but he never knew brotherhood until Clay took him in.

My biggest issue with Justin is his constant drug use. I knew the moment he went searching through his bag when Clay left the room that he was still using. How could he not have been? The second season literally ended with us seeing him inject himself with heroin. A person doesn’t just stop heroin - they need professional help to do it. In fact, Justin may be in even more trouble now that he has added prescription drugs to the mix. I’m so glad he spoke up about needing help in the final episode. I sincerely hope we get to see his journey to sobriety in the final season.

Justin standing up at the assembly and telling everyone that he too was a survivor was such an important and impactful scene. Jess’s face says it all, she had no idea. In hindsight, it’s really not a surprise. Justin’s mom was constantly strung out and bringing home men who were not only bad for her but bad for her son. What shocked me more was his admission that he sold himself for sex when he was on the streets and sometimes things went south. That small little line is so important because it points out that sex workers can be survivors of sexual assault to. They can be taken advantage of. Their trust can be broken. And their willingness to sell themselves can be misconstrued as consent for any and all actions.

Also, the fact that Justin told Jess he didn’t come out sooner because he didn’t want to distract Jess from her own journey -- SOBS! I love you Justin Foley -- you incredibly dumb, yet incredibly kind boy.

But please, get him away from drugs and drug dealers. I want to see a happy, healthy, and SOBER Justin Foley next season.

- - -

The queen of survival, the inspiration for change, and the girl who is done with everyone’s bullshit Miss Jessica Davis.

For the past two seasons, we’ve seen Jess as a victim and for the first time, we got to see her as a survivor. Seeing her as student body president fighting for change and spearheading the Hands Off club was the right move for Jess. I liked seeing her come into her own and understand that she is not her past.

I think it’s important that even though Jess is getting better, she still struggles with what has happened to her. We see her in a flashback tell Bryce that even though she’s healing, sometimes she still feels like he’s on top of her. That feeling is never going to go away, but that doesn’t mean it needs to define her.

Though I’m not keen on the idea of showing teenagers having sex so freely, Jess reclaiming her sexuality was an important milestone for her and for survivors everywhere. I found it interesting and not all that shocking that this time around Jess wanted to be the one in control when it came to sex. It was a way for her to feel safe and enjoy herself because she knew she was the one calling the shots. And even though she was in charge, she still made sure Justin was comfortable as well. Consent is key!

Jess has a lot going on this season. As I said, she’s student body president and the president of the Hands Off club. She’s trying to change the school and how sexual assault victims are viewed. She’s harboring secrets like Tyler’s foiled school shooting and her involvement in Bryce’s death. She’s trying to have a relationship with Justin which leads to backlash from the HO group. And, on top of all that, she’s dealing with her feelings surrounding the death of her rapist.

One thing I found really interesting about Jess this season is her feelings towards Bryce’s death. Her reaction is even more interesting and shocking when we find out her involvement in the murder. When the news hits that Bryce’s dead everyone has a reaction. After Justin opens up to Jess about his complex feelings around the death, Jess comforts him and reassures him that Bryce didn’t deserve to die. And yet, we find out that she watched Bryce die! I kind of wish we got a sense of what her true feelings were regarding Bryce’s death.

Jess is on the right track and I hope we get to see her continue to grow as a person. I hope she finds comfort in herself and continues helping others work through their trauma and understand that they are survivors.

- - -

Alex Standall is another character I’ve been a fan of from the very beginning. His near suicide in the finale of the first season crushed me. So it should come as no surprise that I was extremely disappointed in Alex this season.

I found it extremely out of character for Alex to willingly interact with Bryce — whom he’s hated even before Hannah’s tapes were passed to him. One could blame his interactions with Bryce on his need for steroids but that’s a copout. Alex could have found someone else to buy the drugs from. He could have not done the drugs at all and instead worked harder with Zach. There is no excuse for him turning to Bryce for drugs.

What’s even more alarming is his interactions with Bryce didn’t stop there. He hung out with him on other occasions including helping Bryce break into his alleged father’s new home. Now, yes, Alex came to his sentences shortly after this interaction but he should have already known to stay away from Bryce.

It’s clear that Alex was hurting. Jess dumped him yet again for Justin and he felt vulnerable. But his vulnerability doesn’t excuse him going to his ex-girlfriend and best friend’s rapist to purchase drugs.

And then there’s the small fact that Alex Standall is the one who killed Bryce. There’s certainly a lot to unpack when it comes to his involvement with Bryce. The fact of the matter is, Alex didn’t go to the pier with Jess to kill Bryce. He went to support Jess. In fact, he even tried to help Bryce but in those final moments, Bryce sealed his fate by acting out and accusing Jess of setting him up — how I’m not sure.

I’d imagine the final season will explore Alex’s involvement and his feelings about it even more. And I’m sure his complex relationship with Jess will be involved in his journey.

So, is Alex redeemable? Well, that’s a discussion for another day.

- - -

Once again, Zach Dempsey got the short end of the stick — or so we thought.

The season started out with him being isolated from the rest of the tape squad. Though he didn’t sell Tyler out he certainly thought about it. He definitely wasn’t going to waste his time babysitting Tyler who may or may not act again. And yet, he still showed up at every meeting and played a part in covering up who really killed Bryce.

Zach actually had a lot of great moments this season. His relationship with Chloe was interesting and complex. There’s no denying that Zach hated Bryce and yet, he still offered to help Chloe raise Bryce’s child if she wanted to keep it. And he never once tried to pressure Chloe into getting an abortion even though she was carrying a rapists baby. I found myself applauding when Zach went along with whatever Chloe said regarding the pregnancy. If she kept it that was fine. If she wanted an abortion that was fine too. Zach definitely gets a gold star for that one — isn’t sad I have to praise common human decency?

I also enjoyed Zach’s brotherhood moments with both Justin and Alex. Zach needed friends just like everyone else did and I’m glad he found people he could rely on. His relationship with Alex seems esepcially special and I hope they keep their promise to be the kind of friends that tell each other everything.

Zach’s story becomes even more complicated when it comes to the Homecoming game and his altercation with Bryce. Bryce’s reaction to finding out that Chloe is friends (or maybe more) with Zach is alarming since he’s claimed and shown how into Ani he is. If he was so in love with Ani, why did he need to go after Zach like that?

Thanks to Bryce’s irrational anger, Zach lost his entire future that night. In fact, softie Zach was so pissed off he found Bryce and beat the shit out of him with a broken leg nonetheless! I was a bit confused as to how Zach found Bryce though. From what we saw, Jess was the only one who knew where Bryce was going to be after the game. And it’s not like Zach could have followed him there because he had to go to the hospital to get his leg check out. PLOT HOLES!

Honestly, I’m not really sure what to think of Zach. I will say I’m glad he acknowledged that he had no right being on Tyler’s picture wall at Monet’s. And yet, Tyler put him there for a reason.

Frankly, I think Zach needs some therapy too so hopefully he gets some help in season 4 too.

- - - 

I can’t believe the internet is romanticizing Monty and his sexuality when actual angel Tony Padilla exists.

I honestly can’t understand why Monty and Winston are getting all the attention when Tony and Caleb exist — but then again, I do understand. Why would the world idolize an interracial gay couple when two white (or white-passing boys) are hooking up. Tony and Caleb deserve better from the world and from this fandom. They are the true icons.

Tony had a rough go this season. I certainly wasn’t expecting him to have to deal with his family’s deportation but the minute he walked into his home and they weren’t there I knew. What’s a little confusing about this plot, is the fact that his dad owned a legitimate business. The plot definitely felt like more of an afterthought but I do think it was important. It gave the show an opportunity to comment on a very real thing happening in our country and showed how it affects everyone. I’m sad Tony didn’t confide in Clay earlier and that it took Clay’s interrogation and digging for him to tell him. I really hope these characters learn to trust each other next season — they’ve all proved to  be extremely good at keeping secrets.

Tony seemed to be the only character who adamantly did not want Bryce’s help this season. He was hesitant to take the money from Bryce for the Mustang especially after learning that Bryce’s father was the one who sold out his family to ICE. The only reason Tony is seen with Bryce again is because he made a promise to Hannah to see that everyone on the tapes listened to them. I found it just as shocking as Tony did that Bryce never listened to them, even when they were spread around the internet. That says a lot about his character. 

Tony choosing to sit in the car with Bryce and listen with him says a lot about Tony’s character. I think Tony stayed with Bryce because a) he wanted to make sure he listened to all the tapes and b) he wanted to make sure Bryce wouldn’t destroy the tapes. I don’t think it had anything to do with making sure Bryce was going to be okay while listening. Also, Tony telling Bryce that all of Hannah’s tapes are his tapes was a serious mic drop moment.

Tony, like Clay, is so ride or die for his friends. The minute that Hillcrest moron grabbed Jess at the Homecoming game Tony was ready to fight. If it wasn’t for Caleb reminding him that he could go to jail Tony would have been down there throwing punches.

To me, Tony’s biggest flaw is his necessity to be the tough boy. He doesn’t allow himself to be vulnerable or open up to those he cares about. I hope this changes in the final season.

- - -

Bryce Walker was and will always be a rapist.

This season tried really hard to humanize Bryce, to show that he was capable of change but I wasn’t buying it. I don’t think he was ever remorseful for his actions, I think he only showed remorse when things started to affect his own life. I’ll talk more about that in a different post though.

Bryce is nothing more than a massive manipulator and a rapist.

However, I don’t think he deserved to die. Oddly enough, I think his death benefitted him because he no longer had to live with the fact that he would always be the rapist kid. Bryce deserved to live so that he would have to wake up every morning knowing he was a rapist. He deserved to live with the knowledge that he fucks up everything around him. Death was easy for him, living is where he truly would have suffered.

- - -

Montgomery De La Cruz was and will always be a rapist.

Monty was not a good person. He didn’t even attempt to change like Bryce tried to. He was simply a terrible human being. Giving him a troubled home life and having him suffer from internalized homophobia when he was gay does not excuse his behavior.

Monty’s relationship with Winston was a ploy to earn him sympathy and from the looks of it, it worked on some viewers. I’m sorry, thousands of gay individuals have troubled pasts and live with people who don’t accept them but they don’t go sexually assaulting people or beating up those they’ve slept with.

Monty is no better than Bryce; in fact, he might even be worse because he never even acknowledged that what he did was wrong.

If television has taught me anything, it’s never believe someone is dead unless you see a body. Not only did we not see a body, we never saw Monty get into an altercation in the jail. And there are never any hints that he could end his own life. The only source we have that Monty is dead is from some shady drug dealer. It’ll be interesting to the truth next season.

- - - 

Now for the honorable mentions.

Mrs. Walker had a really interesting journey this season. The complexity of her character was astonishing. I liked that she didn’t make excuses for her son and that she understands that he was (and is) a bad person.

The scene with Chloe where Mrs. Walker tells her that Bryce should never be a father was so powerful. Look, Bryce is Mrs. Walker’s only chance at being a grandmother and she’d sacrifice that experience to save her grandchild and daughter-in-law a life of hell like the one she’s been leading.

When it comes to motherly love everyone always talks about how it’s unconditional. Mrs. Walker’s love wasn’t unconditional. In fact, it took her a long time to look at Bryce and not see the monster that she helped create. I did find her speech at his funeral about sometimes seeing him as a 9-year-old boy moving. I empathize with Mrs. Walker because no mother should have to bury her son. And in the same breath, I almost wonder if Mrs. Walker is relieved that she can finally be free now that all three of the abusive men in her life are gone.

I’m interested to see if she’ll make an appearance in the final season. What is her reaction to the news that Monty is the alleged killer?

- - - 

If Mrs. Walker is interesting and complex, Mrs. Baker is a damn badass.

Her speech to the Sheriff about how much trouble they're going through to find Bryce’s murder was amazing. I literally stood up and applauded. Mrs. Baker isn’t taking any shit any longer. And she’s certainly going to take any chance she can to point out the injustices in the justice system

And she isn’t going to let Bryce Walker off the hook for what he did to her daughter and dozens of other girls. Mrs. Baker said it best “I wish you a lifetime of learning what sorry is.”

I really enjoyed the scene between Mrs. Baker and Jess. A part of me felt like Mrs. Baker was talking to Hannah through Jess. I think Mrs. Baker sees what Hannah could have been in Jess. I also enjoyed her scene with Clay. It was almost as if she was telling him to tell the police about her so that they would leave Clay alone. Mrs. Baker couldn’t protect Hannah, but she’ll do anything to protect Hannah’s friends.

- - - 


Finally, I want to talk briefly about Alex’s dad, Deputy Standall. 

There’s no denying that he loves Alex. He would literally do anything for Alex — including jeopardizing his job as a deputy.

In the final episode he tells Alex that when he found him [Alex] after he tried to kill himself, he wished the bullet was in his head. That was a literal and figurative speech. Deputy Standall was admitting that he would take a bullet to protect his son — and he did just that.

Deputy Standall knows the truth. He is a good detective who followed the clues even when the Sheriff was convinced Clay was the murderer. In fact, Deputy Standall even goes off record to ask Ani where his own son was that night. Now, maybe this is a test to see if Ani is telling the truth (since he knows the answer) or maybe it’s a test to see how far she’s willing to go in lying. Either way, Deputy Standall knows the truth.

He knows his son killed or played a part in the murder of Bryce Walker. And yet, he’s willing to risk his career and livelihood, to protect his son from going to prison for the rest of his life.

It will be interesting to see what happens in the final season. Will the truth come out?

- - -

That concludes this long-ass character thoughts post. I do plan on making another post where I talk about what characters are worthy of redemption and why (I’ve teased it a bit here). I also want to make a post about my top 13 scenes from this season. We’ll see how that goes.

For now, let me know what you think of these characters. Do you agree with me? Disagree? Why?

Season 3 of Thirteen Reasons Why is streaming now on Netflix. Due to the shows graphic nature viewer discretion is advised. If you find the material uncomfortable please do not watch or find a trusted family member or friend to watch with you.

If you or someone you know is struggling please reach out for help.

#13ry #13 reasons why #13rw spoilers #13rw season 3 #clay jenson #jessica davis #justin foley #tony padilla #tyler down #bryce walker #monty #montgomery de la cruz #hannah baker #alex standall #zach demspy #ani achola #film-tv #opinions #film Tv #ramblings

[shapeshifting-wildcard]

It was a lazy Sunday afternoon in late August. The heat outside was sweltering by all accounts, but Leblanc was considerably cooler. Standing right next to the kitchen didn't really help, though, as Joker could feel the residual heat at his back. The coffee makers to his right certainly didn't help matters, either.

Futaba sat in front of the coffee machines, with her knees pulled up to her chest. She didn't look directly at either Joker or Sojiro as they spoke, her gaze drifting around the room and only occasionally settling on them. But Joker could tell she was paying close attention as Sojiro regaled her about the disaster that was the fireworks festival.

"Not only did he get crushed in the crowd," he said, gesturing to Joker, "but he came home looking like some kinda drowned rat."

Joker rolled his eyes and let out an annoyed huff, the puff of air buffeting his bangs a bit. He half expected Futaba to laugh at his misfortune, but instead she adopted a thoughtful expression. She muttered something under her breath, before the conversation was interrupted by the chiming of the store's bell. Futaba quickly unfurled herself from her seat and dashed behind the counter, taking cover behind Joker.

He was surprised to see two familiar figures enter the cafe: one Goro Akechi and one Kotone Arisato. Akechi strode over to the counter, a briefcase in hand, wearing a smart sweatervest and button-down shirt combo that couldn't possibly have been comfortable in this heat. Kotone slipped in behind him, door chiming again as it swung closed. She had on a cute, orange-y sundress that seemed to match her sunny disposition (and the weather). Akechi stopped in front of one of the chairs and smiled brightly to the people behind the counter, offering them a friendly greeting. Joker felt the corners of his mouth twitch up, returning the gesture. He was pleasantly surprised to see the boy.

Kotone slipped past him and into her customary seat, coincidentally the one next to where Futaba had been sitting. Joker felt Futaba's hand on his arm and cast a quick glance over his shoulder to the girl. Her head was lowered, gaze focused on some spot on his back. He wanted to turn around and pat her on the head, but that would have taken some maneuvering to accomplish.

"Oh! You're..." Joker met Akechi's gaze as the spark of recognition hit. Joker's heart lurched in his chest as he realized that there were three people in this room who knew his real name, and one person who didn't. Any one of them could potentially give it away in casual conversation. He wasn't sure how he felt about that.

"Hey," Kotone greeted, snapping him out of his thoughts. "Sorry for dropping by unexpectedly. I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

Joker smiled and shook his head, while Sojiro tried to puzzle out where he'd seen Akechi before.

"Ah, right, the one on TV and stuff," he said as it finally slotted into place. "So what brings you here, Mr. Detective?"

Joker's attention returned to the other boy as he continued to stand in front of the counter. He looked around, taking in the cafe's interior. "This place is more than I imagined it to be. The atmosphere is wonderful."

"It's cozy, isn't it?" Kotone chimed in. Akechi's gaze settled on her and Joker felt a vague pang of jealousy rise up in his chest.

"It truly is," he said. "No wonder Sae-san recommended it so strongly."

Kotone opened her mouth to say something, but Sojiro interjected, his tone sharp and defensive. "I already told her everything I know. There's nothing more I got for you people."

"You people...?" Kotone repeated, looking confused. Akechi shook his head, a pleasant smile returning to his face.

"Oh no, that's not my intention. I just came to enjoy some coffee."

Joker could see Kotone's expression change out of the corner of his eye. She was glancing between Akechi and Sojiro, a slight frown on her face. Sojiro, having discovered the boy's actual reason for coming, relaxed noticeably. Akechi's gaze wandered to the girl taking cover behind Joker, undoubtedly still finding the spot on his back utterly fascinating.

"And she is...?"

Kotone leaned a little to the side, fixing Futaba with a friendly smile. "Futaba-chan, right? It's nice to finally meet you!"

"Futaba...?" Akechi repeated, his free hand reaching up to rest on his chin. "Oh, you must be Wakaba Isshiki's..."

Joker caught Kotone shooting Akechi a raised eyebrow before Sojiro interjected again. "What'll it be?"

"I'll have whatever you recommend," Akechi replied. Sojiro nodded, before casting a glance towards Kotone.

"And you?"

"I'll have the house blend, please," she said.

"Coming right up."

Sojiro scurried off to the far end of the counter, while Akechi took a seat. He sat one seat over from Kotone, setting his briefcase down in the chair between them. Kotone glanced at it and laughed softly, apparently finding the gesture amusing. She got out her tarot deck as they both waited for their orders, which didn't take too long. When Sojiro brought their cups over, Akechi murmured a soft thanks while Kotone's was much more cheery. Akechi seemed lost in his thoughts for a moment, before he finally lifted his head and glanced over Joker and Futaba.

"It seems I'm unwelcome no matter where I go."

"That won't be true forever," Kotone chimed in. Joker glanced at her, raising an eyebrow. She was busy shuffling her cards as she waited for her coffee to cool off a bit. Akechi didn't seem particularly convinced, shutting his eyes and letting out a soft sigh.

"I apologize for bothering you." Kotone glanced at him, her expression unreadable to Joker. "Apparently, my mother was in a relationship with some low-life of a man. She was swiftly discarded when he learned she was pregnant. That despair would lead to her death. Thanks to him, I was passed from foster home to foster home."

"You too, huh?"

Both Joker and Akechi turned their attention to Kotone. Kotone glanced between them, her face slowly growing red as she no doubt realized they were both staring at her. She absentmindedly tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, gaze falling towards the counter.

"...My parents died in an accident when I was little. It's just been me and my brother since then."

There was a certain irony to Joker's sudden realization that he was the only kid in the room who still had parents. Part of him felt bad about still being angry at how they treated him; at least they were still alive to be angry at. Part of him felt that it didn't matter. They abandoned him and shoved him onto a relative stranger because they didn't want to deal with him anymore.

"At least you had each other." There was an icy tone to Akechi's voice. Jealousy, perhaps? At least Joker wasn't the only one with mixed feelings.

"Yeah," Kotone said, returning to shuffling her cards. "I would have been lost without him."

The laugh that followed sounded forced to Joker. He narrowed his eyes, studying her closely. There was more to it than what was said, that much he could tell. Anything other than that was lost on him, though. He had to admit he was surprised. Kotone had seemed very straightforward to him. He hadn't thought she was capable of hiding something like this.

The topic drifted to Medjed, and then to the Phantom Thieves' recent victory over them. Kotone continued to quietly shuffle her cards and sip at her coffee as Akechi talked, seemingly lost in her own world.

"Many kids your age seem to be fans of the Phantom Thieves," Akechi said, addressing Futaba. "Do you like them too?"

Futaba stayed silent, still hiding behind Joker. Akechi tilted his head, some of his shaggy brown hair falling over his shoulder in the process.

"What's the matter?"

Futaba was quiet for a beat longer. "You're popular too, Ace Detective Akechi."

Akechi laughed. "Thank you. Though I'd rather not be compared to people like the Phantom Thieves, if at all possible." He turned his attention to Kotone, who was still busily shuffling. "What about you? What do you think of them?"

Kotone glanced up at the question, looking confused, before her gaze dropped back to her hands. She was silent for a long moment.

"Is... something—"

"...I think... that's the wrong question."

Joker and Akechi shared a startled glance. Akechi leaned against the counter, resting his cheek against one hand. "The wrong question? What do you mean by that?"

Kotone hummed distractedly, clearly thinking her words over. She set her deck down and started flipping through the cards as she spoke. The first card she flipped over was the queen of pentacles. "I think it's the wrong thing to be focused on. Are the Phantom Thieves right or wrong? Are their methods good or bad? Shouldn't people be more worried about the crimes they've uncovered?"

Another card flipped over. The queen of wands this time.

"Mm... well, their first target was a teacher who was sexually harrassing and physically abusing his students. The second was an artist who plagiarized his students' work. The third was a mafia boss who exploited students..." Akechi counted the targets off on his fingers. Kotone nodded again, flipping over the four of pentacles this time.

"A bunch of adults in positions of power who exploited those below them. That's just three people, outed over the course of what, a few months?" This time the five of swords. "How many others like them are out there, lurking in the shadows?"

Silence fell over the four of them as the question sank in. Of course they all knew the answer was "far too many." Kotone continued to draw cards, this time turning over the Hermit.

"An adult I once trusted said, 'this world is rotten.'" Kotone grimaced, an expression that seemed both ill-fitting and all too fitting on her face all at once. "It was one of the few true things he said."

"He mistreated you, too." It wasn't a question. Akechi's tone was remarkably soft though, not unlike the tone he'd used with Futaba mere moments ago.

Kotone nodded quietly. "I think, instead of going around and around about whether the Phantom Thieves are right, people should be asking, 'why is the world rotten, and what can we do to fix that?'"

Akechi fell silent, looking thoughtful. Kotone fussed with her deck, shuffling the remaining cards again and staring at the pile she'd already laid down. After a moment, Akechi picked up his cup of coffee and took a sip from it.

"Mm, this is delicious." He glanced over the rim and met Joker's gaze. "You get to drink this coffee every day? I'm incredibly jealous. I would never have thought you'd be boarding at this cafe." He leaned over the counter, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. "We seem to share some kind of bond."

Kotone snorted, turning away as she visibly suppressed a giggle. Joker pointedly ignored her and the little gremlin joining in on her gigglefit from behind him.

"I agree."

Kotone looked back to Joker, noticeably surprised to hear him speak. Thankfully, she didn't comment.

Akechi, meanwhile, just laughed and smiled. "Thank you." He glanced down at the cup again, idly tracing around the outside edge. "I believe that fate brings people together. It's strange, but talking to you," he glanced towards Kotone, "the both of you, is thought-provoking."

"Huh?" Kotone stared at Akechi wide-eyed for a moment, before frowning slightly. "Wait, you're not just saying that because you think I'm weird, right?"

Akechi half snorted as he laughed this time. He covered his mouth with the back of his hand and shook his head. "Not until you said that, no."

Kotone huffed and stuck her tongue out at him, looking more like an elementary schooler than a third year high schooler. Futaba snickered again, clinging tightly to Joker's shirt as she leaned against his back. Akechi finished off his coffee and flashed Joker another brilliant grin. Joker hoped his face wasn't as red as it felt.

"Well, I think I found my go-to cafe."

#!long post #!drabbles #💔 Confidant: Death-Rebirth (glass-half-fxxl) #((I was going to have them talk more after Akechi left but)) #((this just seemed like too good of a stopping point)) #((and also this was already Very Long lmfao))

[littlemisssquiggles]

So, Squiggles :) What do you think of the newest episode?

Hey Mizu. I’m not sure if you’re asking me for an overall review of theepisode or one that’s more in depth which potentially goes into more spoiler territory. Just to be safe, I’m going to do it both ways. I’ll give my generalspoiler-free thoughts on the episode before I go into the specifics of somethings I liked and didn’t like about the episode. But undercut for obvious spoilers.Cool?

Overall, chapter 3 was another solid episode. Similar to how V6 started off, CRWBY Writers really aren’t giving any room for downtime with these episodes as we’re immediately chucked into the meat of the episode— the mission with the Aces. I figured we would have at least gotten to seeing our heroes settling into Atlas and adjusting to their new surroundings before the big mission but…NOPE! Mission time! So I’ll at least give you that bit about the episode since it was highlighted in the synopsis for this episode.

Overall, I enjoyed CH3. It was cool and it showed everyone in action. However there were some specific things that stood out to me that I wanted to give my opinion undercut.

[Spoilers Ahead! Nuff Said!]

Rosebuds: 

First off, the brief conversation between Ruby and Oscar. With theway how the episode chucked us straight into the mission, ya girl was worriedthat Oscar wasn’t even going to be in this episode since his absence from themission has been highlighted since as early as the V7 Trailer. But thankfully,the little barn prince shared one scene with Ruby.

Turns out we were all right about Oscar confronting Ruby about her stunt in Ironwood’s office. It was a little shorter than I expected but… then again, it wasn’t the key focus of the episode so I gave it a pass.Still it is noteworthy that Ruby entrusted the Relic of Knowledge back to Oscar. This is interesting to me since it brings to light a point of concern I made in my very last theory post from this week. With Oscar now having the Relic back in his possession, I wonder if history will repeat itself with the roles reversed. 

Could this moment from the episode be a possible foreshadow to Oscar using the Relic to out Ruby in a similar fashion to how she used the Relic on Oz last season?

Could Oscar simply just threaten Ruby with the Relic leading to the two having a big fight or…could Oscar potentially end up using Jinn to show Ironwood the truth behind Ruby’s back? 

All of these are possibilities now to add to the table of events brought to you by this small exchange. It’s quite fascinating really. I don’t want Oscar to come tothis point. But for now, it’s definitely a probability with the Relic in his hands.

———————————————————————————————————–

Aces: 

The Ace Ops were all very, very cool in this episode. I loved their comradery with each other. I especially wanted to point out Vine and Elm’s dynamic. While I’m still unsure if they’re a legit couple, I did like how the chapter paired them off to work with JNR while Bunny Bites—Harriet and Marrow—worked with RWBY. 

Clover was also placed to work with Qrow and might I say this—I’m strangely fighting the urge to ship Qrow and Clover now. 

There is a moment in this episode where Qrow explains his semblance to Clover only for Clover to confirm what us RWBY theorists predicted. His semblance is good fortune which is excellent. 

Clover complements Qrow in a good way. Not to mention that look Qrow gives Clover after he told him his semblance while the camera literally lingers on him for a couple of frames made me wonder.

I couldn’t help but feel as it this moment sparked Qrow potentially being infatuated with Clover or…it could just simply be a respectable man-crush. Y’know a bromance. Nothing really gay about. Not that there’s anything wrong with Qrow being gay (technically bisexual). For all we know, Qrow just loves Clover…in the very heterosexual way. If you caught the reference then y’know what I’m talking about.

Anyways as I was saying about Elm and Vine, this episode definitely highlighted their strong teamwork. These two complement each other so well and the way they bounce off of one another really shines in their pair dynamic. Love it and love these two. This is, however, the least I can say for our favourite little Flower Power pair. This unfortunately which brings to light one of the things I didn’t like so much about the episode.

———————————————————————————————————————

Wilted Flower Power: 

Ren’s sudden change in attitude with Nora—what the f***?  I mean he isn’tbeing cold or rude to her. He just feels oddly closed off from her this episodewhich leaves me, as the viewer, asking the obvious question: Where is this coming from?

Sure we caught a glimpse of it in the first episode when Ren suddenly took off in battle while Nora sulked in the background. And while I was correct in this development in their rapport returning in a later episode; regardless, where isRen’s sudden mood change with Nora coming from?

It’s not to say that it’s been built up since V6? I mean I got the feeling that the Writers might introduce some tension between Ren and Nora given that we’re supposed to be learning more about her. But this still doesn’t give any rationale to this behaviour. If the Writers plan to have Ren and Nora break up temporarily due to Ren acting differently with Nora only to have them learn a lesson through observing Elm and Vine and come back stronger than ever as both a couple and a team partnership then…. that’s fine. Ijust wished they had done a better job at introducing this ‘issue’ inthe Flower Power teamwork if you know what I mean. Cause it feels very out of the blue; at least in my opinion.

I just didn’t enjoy seeing Nora being her usual self with Ren only for him to reply in a way that feels so uncharacteristic for him. Yes, Ren has shown exasperation at times with Nora but it’s never been to a level where he comes off annoyed with her. In spite of Nora’s big animated personality, that might tire some people, Ren has always been very patient with Nora often finding her behaviour amusing which was a big reason why I fell in love with shipping Renora. 

In spite of their different personalities, the two have always complimented each other and worked well together. Having Ren be like this with her…I’m sorry. If this is how the Writers are going to do things with Renora then I’m already disliking the execution of it. It’s not terrible. Just seems a little forced to me.

—————————————————————————————————————–

Dem Bees: 

Another thing that occurred for this episode that I sadly did not care for was the moment between Yang and Blake in this episode where Yang complimented Blake’s new hairstyle.

Some context for the scene: Blake notices Yang staring at her from afar. Yang reacts awkwardly and says, “Sorry. Not used to the new hair yet.”

Blake then asks, while blushing, “Is it bad?” only for Yang to respond many times “No” while fumbling over her words.

This moment. Y’see this moment right here, folks. Do you know what this immediately reminded me of?

It’s like the Legend of Korra Book 4, after Korra reunited with Mako and Asami. In that series, Asami and Korra shared a moment where Asami noticed that Korra had cut her hair and our Avatar blushed at this acknowledgement.

It is literally the same energy. While admittedly an adorable exchange, as I said, I didn’t care for it. As a matter of fact, this moment confirmed my biggest concern for the development of the Bumblebee pair going forward. I was hoping the Writers would’ve taken the time to show these two’s friendship growing a bit more before introducing the potential of romance. Some fans complained about the blatant pandering in favour of actually showing Yang and Blake bettering their friendship last season and it seems like the Writers are adamant on continuing this trend.

Who would’ve expected the CRWBY Writers to take a page from Bryke—the two creative minds who practically created the first most shoehorned LGBT couple I’ve ever seen in an animated series while having the chops to puppet it around as ‘good representation’. While Bryke was praised for what they did with Korrasami since Korrasami was said to be the first LGBT couple in an animated series targeted at children, I didn’t buy into it and didn’t think Bryke deserved their praise at all since Korrasami, in my opinion, was weakly written from the start.  

As you can probably tell, this squiggle meister didn’t buy into the Korrasami romance. Not because it was LBGT (as I’ve said before—I have no issue with that at all) but purely because the showrunners didn’t develop the relationship between these two lead girls in a way that felt natural. 

Rather than watching a beautiful friendship that grew into a sweet romance over the course of the series runtime, culminating in the birth of a great couple by the show’s finale, instead I watched two characters who were barely friends for two full seasons since they were involved in a ridiculous love triangle only to suddenly become quick besties in the third season. Fast  forward 5 years for the show’s final season and now these two girls are in love with each other with their love not being apparent until the final shot of the very last episode. Good shit, right?

Korrasami felt so forced to me in the end which was made even more apparent by the finale. It seems like Bumblebee will be heading in the same direction as Korrasami. 

I’m probably digging my own grave here by even talking about the Bees since it’s practically blasphemy now given all the discourse still surrounding this pair and I can only imagine how it is now after today’s episode. But still wanted to give my views on that moment given what it reminded me of.

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

 Marrow’s Semblance: 

Getting back on track with things I liked from this episode—Marrow’s semblance man. As I said on Twitter, I really loved the take on Marrow’s unique skill. It’s perfect. He’s a wolf Faunus with a semblance that causes others to listen to his every command. A trained dog treating his opponents to be subservient to him. That is freaking neat as hell. Forget all the other Ace Ops, Marrow’s semblance is the most interesting to me.

What I’m curious about is what the extent of Marrow’s powers are? Does it only work on the Creatures of Grimm since they’re technically mindless monsters acting mostly on instinct or…can it work on people too?

Can Marrow use his semblance to get make another person obey his command? That’s what I want to know. I’m guessing that there is a limit to Marrow’s powers since, we see him using his semblance on the Sentinels earlier in the episode who were probably young Grimm given how easily the group took them down.

However I’m surprised Marrow didn’t use his power on the Geist Grimm. Clover did mention that the Geist they were targeting was an older Grimm. So I figured Marrow’s power wouldn’t work on it even if he tried.

Either way, this episode just made Marrow ten times cooler to me now. The Good Boy continues to impress and he’s definitely the one that stood out to me the most from the Aces.

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

No Run Forrest, Run: 

Whelp, if you saw the episode, y’know what this point means. Forrest, the dreadlocked Robyn supporter we met last episode died by the end of this episode. He was killed off by Tyrian so…RIP Forrest. 

I feel so sorry for MurderofBirds since in his last Livestream Discussion on YouTube, he said he was hoping to see more of Forrest.

But in spite of his short time in the story, Forrest’s murder did help me to realize something about Tyrian’s tactics. Since last episode, it was shown by the end that Tyrian has been killing certain people in Mantle. However I couldn’t quite put my finger on a possible pattern in Tyrian’s targets. Now I think I have an idea. I think Tyrian might be targeting Robyn Hill supporters specifically.

On orders from Watts, I think the Scorpion Fauns might be singling out those folks from Mantle who were known to be heavily involved in rallying support for Robyn as another means of turning votes away fromher. 

After all, if the supporters of Robyn are suddenly being found murdered thenit could force the People of Mantle from rallying behind Robyn and tank her chances of winning against Jacques. 

Now this is just a theory for now. Either way, it’s very, very interesting how the audience receives more and more pieces to the plot with Watts and Tyrian as the episodes go back and it’s only been three chapters.

Very interesting indeed and I’m looking forward to seeing what the next episode drops.

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

And yeah, those my thoughts on the episode. I hope I answered you well enough Mizu. Thank you for your question.

And as an added point, I pray that my honest thoughts on the Bumblebee scene from this episode didn’t upset or worst offend anyone. My opinion is NOT meant to insult the RWBY ship or anyone who likes it. It’s just my opinion. 

If you love the Bees and you were absolutely over the moon with that little scene from this episode, then that’s perfectly fine, fam. Just don’t mind me with where I stand on this pairing  and how the show continues to portray the development of their ‘potential romance’.

And please refrain from leaving any disrespectful comments in my post just for sharing my opinion. As I’ll say again, I mean no disrespect and will not tolerate any thrown at me.  With that said, that’s all folks! 

~LittleMissSquiggles (2019)

#mizuike #squiggles answers: rwby #oscar pine #rwby volume 7 spoilers #rwby renora #rwby marrow amin #rwby volume 7

[funtryandthepaladudes]

Behind the Lady’s Door

Today is my turn to contribute to the @planceminibang.

Here’s the link to the story: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19806028

Here’s a summary: 

The concept is simple. There are two doors. One leads to a Lady to marry, the other to a Lion to feed.

What isn't simple is life after this Galran Sentence. Particularly for Pidge, who's just gotten married to her childhood crush in this manner. While she isn't worried about living with Lance in theory, she's afraid of her feelings ruining the status quo. Can she maintain a 'platonic relationship', or will her repressed emotions burst forth and shake up the relative harmony between them.

This story is rated T, because some scenes are very suggestive, but no details are given. 

It has been my greatest pleasure to be teamed up with my @whyamistillhungry as my Beta-Reader and @a-haunted-sock as my artist.

See the art for this story here: https://a-haunted-sock.tumblr.com/post/186400599625/aaaand-we-have-liftoff-this-is-the-opener-comic

https://a-haunted-sock.tumblr.com/post/186403962175/bright-morning-here-is-pic-23-for

https://a-haunted-sock.tumblr.com/post/186411843000/to-love-and-be-loved-in-return-okay-i-promise

And now, on to the main event:

                                                               My feet tap listlessly as I sit in the empty chamber. I wish the Galra Empire would fill the room with… well anything. Books, games, a cheese platter. Quiznack, even hanging some art would liven up the place. But to be fair, most of the other 'Ladies' don't stay in the system as long as I did. Before I arrived here, the longest a 'Lady' remained in the Dorms was five weeks. It will be my third anniversary here in a few days. It's a little hard to fathom. I still remember the day I first came here. I had volunteered to so that I could keep my family together. Dad and Matt had begged me not to do it, but I was a stubborn kid, barely fifteen, and I thought marrying some stranger would be better than letting them be incarcerated for life for 'Treasonous Activities'. It was only once I was sitting on the stiff stool for the first time that I realized how risky this was.

My potential husband was going to be an alleged criminal. Regardless of actual culpability, I have no idea what kind of person I will wind up with. Even if they were innocent of the crime they were charged with, they could still be horrific people. After all, the Empire saves this particular sentence for the most insidious cases. Back then, I probably was too preoccupied with all those sudden concerns to notice how bland this room was. Yet, even with the tedium, the rumors, and the fact that at this rate, I probably won't see my family until I'm past childbearing age, I don't regret my decision. The alternatives would have been worse. Matt could have been on the other side.

“Don't think about that now, they're all safe.” I wonder which lion I am paired with today. I'd like to think it's the green eyed one, she's my favorite. I should ask the Grand Dayak if I can skip my lectures from now on. After all, at this point I have heard them so many times that I could teach the material. Scratch that, she's never going to agree to that. I can already hear her stuffy voice say, ‘Lecturing is a Dayak's job, yours is to learn. To do otherwise would be absurd. Besides, we can't make exceptions for you otherwise we might as well descend into chaos.’ Ugh, I wish. I hope whoever's out there deserves to be mauled. Not that I know for sure that today won't be the day I finally get hitched, but with my track record that's unlikely. The other 'Ladies' don't call me 'Cursed Katie' behind my back for nothing.

The creaking of the door, snaps me out of my musings, but for some reason the sound is coming from behind me—Wait! That means… I turn around and indeed, the door that had remained shut for my entire stay here has been opened. And even more surprisingly, the last person I ever expected to see behind that door is standing there.

“Lance?” I whisper to myself.

It has been so long since I've last seen him. Longer than my stay at the Dormitory. Oftentimes, I would think back on those simpler times, particularly when the Dayak put me in solitary confinement for 'misbehaving'. I wonder if life would have been different if my family had never moved to the Capital. Would Dad and Matt have never been framed? Would I have not wasted three years in this miserable place? Would Lance, Hunk and me still be close friends? Would I have eventually told Lance how I felt? Would it have saved him from getting to this point? Why is he here in the first place?

I look to him as these questions and memories flood my mind, as if hoping he will answer them. However, with the guards rushing us to the Hall of Ceremonies, we don't even get to exchange words. Come to think of it, I doubt he would remember me. Sure, we used to play around when we were kids, and I might have had my first crush on him, but Lance was always a social butterfly. I wouldn't be surprised if he only interacted with me because he had this need to befriend everybody. Besides, he only knew me by my nickname, and I'm not even sure he knew I was a girl. Or more specifically, he didn't flirt with me like he usually did with other girls. If only I could get a few minutes to talk to him…

Once we reach the Hall of Ceremonies, we are separated. If I hadn't had this procedure drilled into me by the Dayaks, I would be about as disoriented as Lance looks when he is suddenly snatched away from me. As Draconian as the Galra are, they're very dedicated to formality. And a man can't get married in the clothes he was convicted in. I myself am already prepped for the ceremony, all I need is to have my make-up refreshed. The Grand Dayak is in the Prep Room, no doubt to give me some last words of wisdom.

“You are responsible for his actions from here on out, so if he acts out of line again, both of you will go straight to the Lions. However, if you inform us of any misdeeds he might commit, you can be pardoned. We might even give you a position at the Dormitory again. Not as a Lady, obviously, but...”

I am not going to miss her.

Before I know it we are in front of the Great Room. The ceremony is a bit stilted at first, despite me knowing all the words, because Lance is completely out of his depth. I try to help him as best as I can, prompting him whenever he becomes stuck. Once he starts reading my signals, the ceremony runs smoother. Time passes in a blur, and we are quickly in the final acknowledgments.

“Do you acknowledge that this Lady is your salvation, and is to be treated in reverence as such, by providing for, protecting, and living as a model citizen?” The Ordainer asks Lance.

“Yes...” I mouth the right words to him. “I acknowledge!”

The Ordainer seems satisfied with his response. He turns to me and asks my final question. “Do you acknowledge that your role is to keep him from being convicted again, by any means possible, and failure to keep him discouraged from criminal activity, or failing to report any such activity, and supporting such activity will result in the immediate execution of both of you?”

“I acknowledge.” I struggle to keep the bitterness out of my tone. Even after all these years, this farce of a wedding ceremony makes me sick. At least it's over now.

“Then celebrate your vindication by demonstrating your devotion to your new freedom. Kiss your bride!” The Ordainer proclaims. Oh right, that. I face Lance, ready to get this over with, but he looks back at me hesitantly, as if worried about me being uncomfortable. I can't help but be touched by this. Even if it's been years since I've seen him, he's still the sweet boy I remember, just wanting anybody he meets to be at ease. I take his hand, the first time we have touched all throughout this ordeal, and nod so that he knows it's OK. The hesitance doesn't completely leave him, but he does manage to lightly press his lips against mine, putting an end to this quiznacking ceremony. All that's left is the reception. I hate this. I hate that this is the only kind of wedding I get. I hate that this was my first kiss. But most of all, I hate that this is our reunion. This would be a lot less frustrating if I could just talk to him. Perhaps at the Reception.

                                    ��                     ---

We don't talk at the reception. So far, I haven't been able to talk to him, what with people constantly coming up to us to congratulate us, as if this was a real wedding. I don't even know any of these people, but I can't snub them either, because most of them are dignitaries of some kind. I keep a lookout for my family, but doubt they will be there. The identity of the Lady is kept secret until the moment her door is opened, and all contact with the outside world is cut off for us. There was no way for them to know when I was being paired with a Lion, and I imagine after the first year of my door not being selected they would have given up hope of seeing me again. Yet, if I remember the lessons the Dayak told me correctly, family members are only permitted to approach us after the Opening Dance, provided a Noble doesn't ask one of us to dance with them after. Perhaps, I'll see them then. I'll just have to endure all this pretense. Maybe once all the greetings have been exchanged I can finally talk…

“They're too close.” I mutter.

“What was that?” Lance asks. Clearly I wasn't as quiet as I thought.

“I mean, our chairs. I know it's our 'wedding' and we have to share a plate, but geez, how close do we have to be?” I play it off. A pair of noblewomen titter at my comment. Just as I thought. The Upper-class need to get their entertainment from these Public Sentences, and if it's not from a mauling, they might as well get it from our awkward situation. I don't really have anything to hide; Ladies are allowed to have a prior acquaintance with their 'Grooms'. But I'll be quiznacked before I give these people anything else to small talk over their tea parties at.  And honestly, the chairs are too close. I can't move my left leg, without brushing against Lance's right one. Every time I do, he does this startled jerk. It's kind of adorable—I'm tempted to do it deliberately. “No, focus Katie. Just eat your dinner, and wait for an opening.”

The entire dinner we are in earshot of the nobility, so we only exchange a few words here or there. Naturally, I can't speak to him as we hand out desert, or as we are handed our gifts. I think that I might be able to get some privacy during the dance, but I wind up having to talk him through that as well. Hopefully, we'll get a break now. Indeed, none of the nobles have asked us to dance yet, however, Lance's family comes to finally see him. As I expected, my family isn't here. I sigh as I watch him get embraced by all of them. I didn't know them that well back then so I feel a bit like I'm intruding, even though they are technically now my family as well. If there is one thing I don't despise about this entire thing, is that at least I could return him to his family. I am wondering if I should introduce myself, when I feel somebody tug at me.

“My Lady, if you could please follow me” a blonde young woman says to me demurely. I've never seen her in my life. She's not noble, or even Galra for that matter, and she certainly isn't one of the attendants from the Dormitory. And yet, I have a feeling I should probably follow her.

“Of course, just give me a moment.”

“We need to hurry.”

I do not know what to make of that, but I have a hunch on who is actually sending for me, though I can't for the life of me fathom why. I look to check on Lance to see if he's still caught up with his family and then follow the blonde, who I suspect is Altean. She leads me through a few hallways and rooms, until we reach a seemingly unoccupied balcony.

“You made it! I was beginning to think you couldn't get away” a female voice speaks up out of the shadows. The person who emerges is exactly who I expected.

“To what do I owe the pleasure, Princess Allura?” I say as I curtsy.

“Please, there's no need to be so formal. It is your Wedding Day after all! I just wanted to congratulate you.”

“Couldn't you have done that with the other nobles earlier?” I ask skeptically. I doubt Prince Lotor's betrothed has any ill intentions, but the fact that she had me summoned away from his presence is pretty suspicious. I can at least deduce that whatever Lance was sentenced for must have, in someway, landed him on the Prince's shit-list.

“Indeed, but I wanted to do it privately...” She begins to explain. I wait for her to tell me her real purpose. “... and to apologize.” Huh, I didn't know what I expected, but that was not it.

My face must display my confusion, because she immediately begins explaining. “Look, I don't exactly understand all the customs of this empire, but I can't imagine that you really wanted to be forced into a marriage like this. So I  can't help but feel a bit guilty in rigging the results, but I couldn't let him die like this. Not when he didn't do anything wrong.”

Wow, that was vague. But at least I know that Lance was unjustly sentenced to this insanity; no surprise there. Lance was always an honest person at his core. I could never imagine him changing that drastically. I am about to ask for more details, when the blonde returns. “Your Grace, people are asking for you.”

“Quiznack! I'm sorry to cut this short. I wish I could say we'll talk again soon, but that's highly unlikely. Take good care of Lance, please. Romelle, get her out of here quickly.”

Without any hesitation I am rushed back to the Ballroom. I can't help but be intrigued by the princess. It's unusual to see nobility refer to the help by name. Also, how does she know Lance? I know it's been years, but I think I would have remembered if he was nobility. Then again, I have no idea what he had been doing for a living. But nothing he did should have made him close enough to the foreign princess to make her risk a political incident by rigging a Lady or Lion sentence. Another thing to ask Lance about, once we're alone. When we get back to the Ballroom, Lance and his family are exactly where I left them. I try to innocuously approach them, but Lance seemed to have heard my footsteps.

“Hey, where did you go? I was just about to introduce you to my folks.”

“Oh, uhm. I needed to use the bathroom, and I needed some assistance with getting my dress out of the way, and Romelle here was kind enough to help out?” I try to indicate to the blonde, but she has already left. However, Lance's eyes widen at the sound of her name, and for a second I think he's going to say something about her. However, he seemingly changes his mind after casting a furtive look around.

“I see, well come along then. My family is anxious to meet you.” He says instead and moves on from the subject, leading me to his family, with his arm around my shoulders. He introduces me as Katie, so I guess he really must not remember me. I was always Pidge to him. His family are instantly accepting of me, hugging me like I had always been a part of their family. His mother even burst into tears, as she holds on to me, repeatedly thanking me for saving Lance's life. It makes me wish I had done more, and it also makes me yearn for my own mother. Being with his family actually motivates me to pretend like I'm enjoying this. I actually feel disappointed when the closing dance is announced. I was just beginning to have fun at my own 'wedding' - who would have thought?! The Closing Dance is just a retread of the Opening Dance, so Lance doesn't need my help as much. This could be a great opportunity to talk, but I'm not sure I want to risk it yet. Lance seems to have other ideas.

“Thanks for being great with my family.” He whispers in my ear. I'm a little ashamed by the excited shiver that runs over my body. Get a grip, he's trying to be private not seductive.

“I didn't really do anything.”

“But you did. I might not be the brightest person in the room, but I could tell that this whole 'wedding' is making you uncomfortable. The fact that you were willing to put on a brave face for them really put them at ease. You can't imagine how worried they were about this whole thing.” He's right. I hadn't even considered that his family might have been worried about who he'll end up with, provided he was not eaten. Sure, I'm not necessarily a 'convict', but they don't know what I'm like, what my motivations are, or how devout I am to the lessons of the Dayaks.

“I mean, it was no problem. Your family is lovely, it's hard not be cheerful around them. I wish my...” I can't get the words out. I'm afraid I might cry. Lance seems to understand, squeezing my hand a bit longer than he needs to, before bending down to my ears again.

“We'll find them tomorrow.” He promises, and I am inclined to believe him.

We're finally alone. In our State-Issued House. In our master bedroom. On the same bed. Perhaps it was all those years of hearing the same lessons, but I had somehow blocked out this part of procedure. True, we're not required to produce a child, but it is still highly encouraged. Anything to keep the convict in line, right? I don't know if it would be better or worse if I had wound up here with some faceless stranger instead, but at least I would know what action to take based on their behavior. Lance hasn't moved an inch since the guards dumped us in this room, snickering on the way out. Maybe I should say something…

“So, how you been, Pidge?”

“... I thought you didn't recognize me.”

“I didn't. At least not completely. You looked familiar, but I couldn't really place it at first. It hit me when you were giving the stink eye to the nobles.”

“Shut up.” We laugh together. It feels nice.

“But seriously, what were you doing in the Dormitory? I thought you would be running the Empire by now.”

“That's really kind of you to say, even if I would rather die than go into politics.” He shrugs playfully as he turns towards me. “Trust me, I had no aspirations to be there. I just didn't have a choice” I add.

“Did you get framed?”

“No, my dad and Matt… they were inventing some astounding machinery, but they were more of the 'help make life easier for the common man' than the 'make conquering the Empire's enemies faster' ilk. When the military offered them a lucrative position to make a chemical weapon, they politely declined. Suddenly, they were being charged with treason. So, naturally...”

“Wow, I'm sorry about that. How are they doing?”

“Well, I hope. I haven't heard from them since I was brought to the Dormitory.”

“How long ago was that?”

“About three years?” He winces, and takes my hand between his.

“It must have been hard.” he says softly, as he strokes the back of my hand with his thumb. It feels comforting, but I try not to dwell on that.

“I found ways to cope.” I answer casually.

“How exactly?”

“Oh, you know. Made plans for what I would do once I finally left. Tuned out the Dayaks just enough to repeat what they were teaching when I was asked, but in reality thought about various experiments I'd rather be doing. Befriended the Lions.”

“Befriended the Lions?”

“Yeah, they're actually quite sweet when they weren't being starved prior to a sentencing. Plus, unlike the other Ladies, they were the only constants. I would go to their pen often, particularly after curfew. It made me feel just a little more defiant.”

“You always were the rebel in our friend group.”

“You know it.” we laugh a little, and it begins to feel like we're back to being kids again. But then I remember that our situation is not that simple anymore, and it fractures our moment of ease. Lance seems to notice my distress and puts a hand on my cheek.

“Hey, this doesn't have to be weird. We were friends before, let's just try to be friends again. We'll take it a day at a time, and if we become something more… well, uhm… I wouldn't mind that either.” The only thing preventing me from laughing at his nervous state, is the fact that I'm fighting my own flush. “But if you don't want anything to happen tonight, then nothing needs to happen. I just want you to be comfortable, so unless we are required to produce children...”

“We're not.”

“Yeah, then, do you want to just sleep?”

“... It has been a long day.”

“Sorry, I'll shut up now.” I try to reassure him, that I don't mind spending the night talking to him, but a yawn escapes me, and before I know it, Lance is behind my back, running his fingers through my hair, with us under the covers. I am this close to just falling asleep, but one question keeps me awake still.

“Hey Lance?”

“Hmm?”

“Why were you sentenced in the first place?”

His hand movement stops as he considers his response. “I just fell in love with the wrong person.”

And just like that, everything falls into place. The princess' subterfuge, her apologetic words, the simple fact that he was in this situation in the first place. Lance and Princess Allura were secret lovers, and now I was the greatest obstacle between them. This revelation erased the fatigue I had just seconds before, overcome by my turbulent emotions. However, Lance's ministrations with my hair did eventually mollify me again, but not before I swore not to let myself fall for him. After all, what good would come from loving an emotionally unavailable man?

                                                          ---  

I still remember the path to my home. It is a relief, yet I do notice the many changes that had occurred during my absence. Nothing major, just buildings that were new now looking faded, properties with overgrown plants, some walls repainted, the odd new store. The little discrepancies from my memory make me anxious about reaching my destination. What if I don't like the change I find there?

As if sensing my uncertainty, Lance reaches out to squeeze my hand. I would be lying if I said I didn't have reservations about bringing him along at first. Yet, at the moment I couldn't be more relieved that he came with me. I don't usually care for too much physical contact, but even as kids I never minded his more tactile personality. Aside from that, I just really needed something to hold on to at the moment, and if Lance is gracious enough not to complain about my sweaty hands, then I'll gladly hold on to him.

I might grip a little too hard when we approach the front yard. It looks mostly unchanged from my memories. Some trees are taller, and the color on the fence is a little more faded, but it is essentially identical to how it looked when the Empire took me away. I could imagine I'm just a teenager again, coming back from town and eager to greet my Mother, who'd be working in the garden. Even Lance would fit into this image somehow. He could be an old friend I ran into that wanted to drop in to say 'hi'. The one thing that is different is the silence. Back then, I could always expect to hear Mom humming some random tune to herself. The fact that I don't hear her makes me fear the worst. So when I do finally gather the courage to walk in, I am more than relieved to find Mom where I expected her. Sure, the garden is slightly more chaotic than I thought she would have ever let it become, and she seems to be listless in her movements, but none of that matters.

“Mom!” I let go of Lance's hand as I run-tackle her. Seconds later, she's out of whatever stupor she was in and holding me in an even tighter grip then mine. I feel tears on my face, and I honestly don't know if it's mine or hers, but I'm honestly just happy to be surrounded by her scent once again. Before I know it, I am surrounded by more arms as Dad and Matt join us in our reunion. I am starting to have trouble breathing from all the embraces, but I couldn't care less. I'm finally home.

I remember Lance a good few minutes after being immersed with my family. I look towards the gate where I had last seen him, and sure enough, he's still there, nervously shifting his feet.

“Oh, guys, this Lance, my… husband.” Even though it is the truth, calling him that feels wrong somehow. Yet, calling him anything else would feel dishonest too. Regardless, I doubt anything I called him would have prevented the mood shifting drastically. As my family looks towards him, their faces shift from ecstatic to somber. Lance doesn't flinch as they all seem to dissect him with their eyes, however unwarranted, because he is also aware of what he represents. For better or worse, Lance is a reminder that my freedom is conditional. I just wish somebody would say something already.

“It's nice to...” Mom tries “... I'm Colleen, and this is Sam, Katie's father, and that's Matt, my first born.”

“I, uhm, kinda knew that already. Not that I don't appreciate the introduction, but me and Pidge… uh Katie, used to be friends back in the day.”

“Really? Wait, are you Lance Serrano?” Dad asks.

“Yeah, I am. Do you remember me?”

“Not personally, but your sister used to be my student back in Arus.”

“Oh right!” Matt also interjects. “Your Veronica's baby brother.”

“That would be me. I completely forgot about that connection.” Honestly, so had I. In my memories of my old Hometown, Lance is just a fixture, I barely remember how we first met. I imagine one of us tagged along with our respective older sibling on a group study session, and the rest is history.

“It's funny, how these things work out.” Dad remarks, a hint of a smile returning. Looks like the tension is gradually dispersing. Although the fact that Lance is technically a criminal is probably still a point of concern for my family, the shared history is more than a little reassuring. With this lighter atmosphere, we head inside. Some polite questions and answers are exchanged between Lance and my parents, and despite the conversation being standard small talk, it seems to be further helping. Oddly enough, Matt doesn't seem to have anything else to say. I know it's been a few years, but I remember my brother being more inquisitive. It was one of the many traits we had in common. I'll have to find out what that's about later. Right now, I just have to ensure that my parents don't tell Lance something he shouldn't hear. Platonic relationship or not, there are some things I'd rather keep secret.

When I first headed out on this venture, I had no idea how long it would take. We had a late start because post-Wedding frenzy is exhausting, even without consummation. And then we didn't leave for another two hours, because Lance insisted that we have brunch before meeting my family. He said it was for his nerves, but I suspect he was doing it for my sake. Now, it seems like we'll be here for a week, or at least till dinner. It's still being negotiated. Fortunately, the tension has all but dissipated. Apart from Matt, everybody has considerably eased up. So much so, that everybody seems to have found something else to do. Dad took Lance aside for 'Man-Talk', which I'm sure will consist of standard Dad-threats. Matt is out on an errand for Mom, and I am trying, and failing, at helping with dinner.

“Out of the question.” She insists. “You just got married, I missed your wedding, and you've just returned. I'm not going to force you to cook when we should be celebrating you. Besides, you're not that good at cooking.”

“That might have been true three years ago, but I've picked up some skills at the Dormitory, and now the food I make is known to be 'edible enough'.”

“Is that so? Then did you also make breakfast and lunch today?”

“First of all, we had brunch… and Lance made it.”

“Aha!”

“Hey! That was only because he was the one that wanted brunch in the first place.”

“Come on, Katie. Just relax. Go check out your room, I'm sure there are some projects left from back then” she says wistfully.

“You… You didn't clear out my room?”

“I couldn't. At first I was hoping that you would return soon, and when you didn't the most I could do is some light cleaning, but I… I just wanted the things that you left to still be there when you returned. Clearing them would have felt like… losing you all over again.”

And here I thought I was done with crying today. “I… I think I will check it out” I rasp as I wipe my tears.

“Oh, baby” She coos as she hugs me. “I'm just so happy to have you back.” I squeeze her back before I head to my old room, actually excited by what I might find. Mom was right, apart from my bed being made, my laundry picked up, and some light dusting, my room looks practically the same as the day I left it. If I didn't know better, I'd think I was just returning to my projects after a family vacation. I recognize the function of some of my contraptions on sight. For others I have to consult my notebook, which is still in it's usual spot. I am contemplating if I should try to move my projects to my new place, or if I should start from scratch when Matt busts into my room.

“Perfect, you're alone.”

“Matt, what's going on?”

“I was hoping to talk to you alone. Pidge, you can tell me the truth. Did he hurt you? Is he dangerous? Just say the word, and I'll take care of him. Veronica may be my friend, but your my sister, and you come first...”

“OK, slow down, weirdo. Lance is harmless. Do you really think I would have brought him here if he was in any way a threat?”

“How was I to know that? For all I know, he's a control freak, that doesn't let you go anywhere without him.”

“Again, Lance is not like that. Also, if that were the case, come on, this is me we're talking about. Do you really think I couldn't sneak away if I wanted to?”

“I don't know, you didn't these past three years.” He blurts out. When he realizes what he said, he grimaces and looks to the floor, clearly not intending to be this honest. To be fair he has a point. The security measures at the Dormitory were laughable.

“I did think about breaking out more than once, but it was never worth the risk.” I explain, in the hopes of bringing some kind of comfort.

“I understand,” He lifts his face again. “Doesn't change the fact that I wished you had. You didn't deserve to be in the Dormitory in the first place, and every day you were stuck there, I couldn't help feeling guilty.”

“Hey, you didn't deserve to be condemned for a crime you didn't commit. Besides, it wasn't all that bad. Sure it was boring, but I got my three meals a day, and my room was actually bigger than this one. It's a pity I couldn't take my tools with me. I could have gotten so much done.”

“That's good to know,” And from the look on his face, I can tell that a huge burden has been lifted. “But back to the original topic. Is Lance treating you right? He didn't… you know…”

“Oh my Bob, Matt, no! All we did on our 'Wedding Night' is catch up, and then literally sleep. Besides, that's never going to happen.”

“I might regret this, but can I ask why not?”

“The same reason he was sentenced in the first place.”

“... Which was?”

I sigh as I brace myself to drop this bomb. “Because he is Princess Allura's Secret Lover.”

“HER WHAT?!!!”

“Shh, are you trying to alert the whole neighborhood?”

“But… are you serious? Did he tell you that?”

“Not in so many words, but what he has said, combined with the clandestine meeting I had with the princess in question at my wedding reception leads me to believe that's probably the case.”

“You met the heir to the Altean throne? Tell me everything.”

And so I wind up telling him everything that happened yesterday from the time Lance opened my door to his cryptic confession in our shared bed. When I'm done, he has a contemplative look on his face.

“So, how do you feel about all this?” Is his first question.

“What do you mean? I mean the whole thing's crazy, but do you want me to get specific or should I just speak in generalities?”

“I mean about the fact that he might not reciprocate your feelings for him.” He deadpans. I am about to say something—a denial, a retort, or whatever—but he beats me to it by saying. “And before you lie to me, I'll remind you that I've known you since the day you were born, and also my observational skills are legendary, so of course I can recognize when you're in love with someone.”

“I'm not in love with him. It's just an old childhood crush that refuses to die, and it doesn't matter. He didn't have feelings for me before, the only difference between then and now is that he's in love with someone else and we're married.”

“That's quite a difference.”

“Tell me about it.” We share a sad laugh together.

“Hey, if you think you can handle it, then I'm not going to stop you. But your wrong, Pidge. Your feelings do matter. And if it ever gets to be too overwhelming, or if you just need to vent, I'm right here.”

“Thanks, Matt. I'll hold you to that. But enough about me, what's been going on with you? Are you still single, loser?”

“OK, you little gremlin. I might currently be the only unmarried member of this family, but I'll have you know, I've been seeing someone as of recently.”

“Wow, that's exciting!” It's actually a relief to know that Matt continued having a life in the years I was gone. We spend the time until dinner discussing his foreign Lady Friend and some projects he and Dad had been working on. At dinner, I am happy to learn that the tension from earlier has completely lifted, and that we'll be staying for two weeks. Lance gets along great with my family now. I don't know if the conversation he had with Dad went that well, or if this is just another case of Lance Magic, but the way we joke and laugh together, you would think he's been a part of the family for years. In another life, this might have been ordinary family dinner with my new Husb... “No! Stop it! You're not doing yourself any favors by letting your thoughts go that way. He's never going to love you like that, so don't even imagine what that would be like” I remind myself. But, even as I try to suffocate whatever warm feelings were developing, somewhere deep inside, I know I've missed a few sparks.

                                                       ---

It has been about two months, and I think I'm starting to get the hang of this marriage. It helps that Lance is such a great partner. As tactile as he is, he never makes me uncomfortable, and even when he gets touch happy, I don't really mind it. I don't like examining why this is, so I just settle to accept it. I'll admit it was a bit awkward those first weeks, figuring out sleeping arrangements, boundaries, and basically a routine for our new lives. Perhaps because of our established friendship, or just the fact that our house is not that big, we ease into an unspoken understanding. In the privacy of our house—I still can't think of it as Home yet—we give each other space, but share a bed. In public we hold hands, and exchange cheek kisses or the occasional chaste peck.

As for the question of occupation, we will be receiving a Government Stipend until the Empire assigns us, or more likely just Lance, a new position. According to the lectures from back in the Dorm this shouldn't take longer than six months, however, our case worker said that it would take at least a year, as Lance's case was a little more 'sensitive'. Either way, it doesn't matter. If the Empire wants to sponsor my inventions and experiments instead of giving Lance a job, then who am I to argue. I was concerned about Lance growing restless, but he surprisingly took up gardening.

“Hey, it's hard work so it will keep me in shape, and if they decide to let me return to the Royal Guard, then at least I'll be ready.” is his explanation. Mom approved of his pick, naturally. Other than that, it's almost like being back in Arus. Just two friends on an extended sleepover. Or at least, that's what I keep telling myself. True, it's been a while since we were friends, but even then Lance has always had a way to creep past my defenses. Back then I was just introverted. Now, I'm trying not to fall for him.

And yet, as if somehow my secret thoughts have snuck into his subconscious, his mannerisms seem to be calculated to make me undone. It’s in the little things, like the way he'll ask a thousand questions about whatever project I'm working on, just because he wants to see what I'm so excited about. Or how he doesn't wear a shirt unless he absolutely has to. The forehead kisses in the morning, which I always roll my eyes at, but never outright tell him to stop. Every time he remembers some old joke from our childhood, my resolve wavers just a little bit more.

There are the more affectionate actions. The not-at-all surprise party he organized on my 18th birthday is one of the most specific examples. As caught up as I get with my projects, I had told him a week in advance just in case my parents or Matt dropped by or something. So on the actual day, when he insisted that we have to visit my family, because he had 'Important Questions about Squash' for Mom, I knew right away what he had up his sleeve. Yet his proud smile at having pulled one over me was so infectious, that I couldn't help but play along.

And then there are the 'Just Because' incidents. Like how he made me a bracelet from some of my leftover Olkari wires about a month ago, 'just because he remembered that he never got me a wedding gift.' Or how he'll occasional take me out for dinner at some affordable, but still atmospheric restaurant, 'just because neither of us feel like cooking , right?' Or the fact that he still strokes my hair as we fall asleep, 'just because it relaxes him too.' Combined with the random tickle fights, and how he makes a point to always go on little 'Adventures' like exploring the City, going out dancing, or rediscovering a game we both love, I'm a little surprised that I have been able to hold out for these past few months. But for every little bit that I come closer to just giving in, I remind myself that he doesn't really belong to me. With every kind touch I remind myself that he longs to have this with Allura. It breaks my heart a bit, but it does the trick.

Some days are tougher than others.

Today for instance, we are on our way to our only couple friends, Hunk and Shay. Hunk is actually another friend of ours from Arus who had also moved to the Capital around the same time Lance joined the Royal Guard. I had run into him about a month ago when I had been looking for parts at a market, and once he learned that Lance had not been mauled by Lions he immediately invited us to his diner, where I was introduced to his wife, Shay, and their two kids. Now, his diner is a frequent haunt for us.

Although, I adore Hunk and his family, going on outings with them presents a unique kind of complication. His children are still very young, so each time they are present, we have to play the Happy Couple, because explaining the truth would be too complicated. To make matters worse, the particular reason we are visiting is because we were invited to a picnic, which wouldn't be so bad in itself. However, not only will Hunks extended family be attending, who may or may not have been filled in about our situation, but also Shay's conservative Balmeran family, who don't understand Galra culture and are definitely not in the know, are going to be there too. It's one thing to trick a two and three year old that we're a normal couple, but how am I going to do that for at least 30 people of varying ages?

“You're overthinking again.” Lance tells me as he playfully bumps into my shoulder.

“I'm just trying to brace myself for what's to come.”

“You make it sound like we're going to war.”

“We might as well be. One wrong word and I shock, traumatize, or cause some other huge incident which will ruin the picnic, and Hunk and Shay worked so hard on it, I don't want to be the one that disappoints our friends, also...”

“Hey, hey! Look at me. It's going to be OK. You don't need to put on a production. So we're not a conventional couple, it's not like we've got a huge sign pointing that out. As long as we are comfortable around each other nobody is going to notice.”

“I guess you have a point, but it's not just about them.” I finally confess. “Your family is also going to be there. I haven't seen them since the wedding, and I was a bit dazed then. I just want to make a better impression, so they can be assured that you're fine, after everything you've been through...”

“Come on, Pidge. My week in holding is nothing compared to your years of separation from your family. Besides, my family have been bugging me for ages to bring you along. You don't need to impress them because they already love you.”

“It's just...” I can't tell him why this really is important. I've never confirmed Lance and princess Allura's relationship, partially because I didn't want to remind him of what he can't have anymore, and partially because I was afraid of his answer. I also don't know if his family was even aware of his affair with the princess. Regardless, I just want them to know that he is relatively happy again. I nervously play with my bracelet as these thoughts rush through my mind. Suddenly, Lance picks me up, so quickly that I almost drop the gift for Hunk that I was carrying. “Lance!”

“What? You're the one that wanted present us as a 'Happy Couple'.”

“Yes, 'Happy', not 'Obnoxious'. Put me down, this is embarrassing.” I hate the fact that this has my heart racing.

“I don't know, I'm kinda starting to like this. I've always wanted to pick you up, but was always afraid of you kicking my ass. I really wish I'd done this sooner, this is surprisingly fun.”

Quiznack, I can feel my face turning red. “Lance, I swear if you don't put me down now, I'm going to make you regret it.”

“Why are you so against this? If you think about it logistically, we're actually getting there faster because I don't have to pace myself so you can keep up.”

“Lance, if anybody sees me like this, I will hurt you!” I yell as I start hitting his chest.

“Are you still worried about impressing everybody at the Picnic?”He asks in between the odd wince.

“What? What does that have to do with anything?” For some reason my question makes him smirk as if I'd fallen for an elaborate prank. Wait.

“Well, based on that response, my work is done.” And with that he puts me back on the ground. I hate the fact that his dumb trick worked, and I really hate that I wish his hands had lingered a little longer on my waist. “And we're here. Hi Hunk!”

“Hey, Lovebirds! Glad you could make it here. But please, keep the PDA to a minimum. There are children present.” Of all people I least wanted to witness this, Hunk is on top of that list. Not because he'll give me crap about this, not because he's among the people who know of our circumstances, not even because he's one of the few people who know about my complicated feelings towards Lance. It's because he's convinced that my potential feelings aren't as one-sided as I know they are, and he takes every opportunity to try to prove this. So Lance carrying me around like a… for the lack of a better word, bride , is probably going to give him mileage for weeks to come. Well, not today. I march towards the picnic sight, only pausing to shove my gift at him. Before he can make another remark, I bee-line towards the refreshments table. With any luck I'll find something strong there to tide me over.

                                                         ---

I should have figured that an event with 'children present', wouldn't have a beverage stronger than fruit punch. Luckily, Lance is right and most of the afternoon passes smoothly. Sure, I could do without Hunk's smug looks, but if that were enough to put me off, then we would never hang out. There are a few awkward lulls in conversation, when somebody from Lance's family will ask me how I'm holding up, or Shay's grandmother asks me how long we 'courted', but Lance is always there to back me up, so we are able to get past these hurdles as well.

Presently, anybody who had been curious about me has been satisfied and moved on to have other conversations. Lance is goofing off with all the kids, and I am content to watch him. If he doesn't get reassigned to the Royal Guard, then I hope he gets a position in Child Care. He's a natural with those ankle-biters. I doubt I could be that patient with them, no matter how cute they were. I wish… what's Hunk doing?

“Can I get everybody's attention for a bit?” He calls as he hits a fork against his cup. “I have a little announcement to make.”

Although his words seem innocuous, I know better than to underestimate him. I brace myself for his next words, in case this is another match-making scheme.

“Well, actually…” He beckons to Shay to come to him, and instantly wraps his arm around her when she reaches him, making her giggle. “We've got an announcement.”

OK, so maybe it's not as bad as I think. Shay is too much of a sweetheart to take part in anything too devious. But then again, I haven't known her that long.

“Alright so I would just like to say, thank you all for coming. I love you all, and I… we… do you want to tell them?”

“You were doing so well, you should proceed.”

“But, it's technically more about you than me.”

“We did this together.”

Yikes. It's times like this I'm glad my marriage is platonic. Lance, and everybody else for that matter, seem to be amused by these antics. I mean, I guess it's kinda sweet but it's not that entertaining. Clearly, I am missing something. I poke Lance in the ribs, and raise my brow at him. Luckily, he understands what I'm trying to ask.

“It's just they always do this, at this point it's a running gag.”

“That still leaves me wondering why.”

“Just wait for it.”

As if on cue, Hunk and Shay seem to have finally agreed to say whatever they are trying to say together. “We are having another baby!!!”

Oh.

Everybody breaks out in enthusiastic, but not really surprised, applause. Although this is my first time to witness, what is apparently a routine pregnancy announcement, I can't say that I'm surprised either that Hunk and Shay are the type of parents who would still be  this excited with each new child. With Lance taking the lead, people start crowding towards them so they can congratulate them.

As I wait for my moment, I fall back into my new hobby of discreetly observing Lance. He remains beside the expecting couple as if this was his kid too, which in a way makes sense. He's already Mirax and Tui's Godfather, so it wouldn't surprise me if they already asked him to take that role a third time. However, as I watch him excitedly exchange small-talk with all the well-wishers, it suddenly hits me. He's not just good with children, he wants some of his own. I see the longing in his eyes as his smile seems to become impossibly wider. I sigh as I turn my face away, only for my eyes to fall on my bracelet. Brilliant, as if I didn't feel guilty enough. I make it a point to keep my arms behind my back as I keep waiting for the crowd to pass, but even like this, I can't quite stop fiddling with my bracelet.

After what seems like an eternity, I finally approach Hunk and Shay, and by extension, Lance. When I'm about seven paces away from them, they all turn to me with a gleeful look that immediately raises red flags. Unfortunately, it is too late for me to back away.

“Pidge! We've been wondering when you would get here. Hunk and Shay have something very important to ask you.” Lance enthuses.

“Oh, I was just trying to avoid the crowd. You know I like my space. So, uhh… what did you need?”

“I suppose you must have already assumed that we asked Lance to be this one's Godfather...” Shay begins in her uniquely Balmeran speech pattern.

“So, we were wondering how you would feel about being the kid's Godmother.” Hunk finishes.

“... Wait, you're serious?”

“Why would we be jesting?”

“I just… am not the best with kids.”

“Don't worry, I didn't think I would be that good when they had Mirax, but now I'm a natural. And if you need help with this Godparenting thing then I'll be right here.” Lance tries to console me. Somehow I doubt there was ever a time he wasn't a natural at this, seeing as he's been an Uncle since he was thirteen. I decide not to comment on this though.

“Are you sure you wouldn't rather ask someone else? Someone you've known longer?” I ask Shay.

“I may not have been acquainted with you for long, but for the short amount of time I have known you, I have found you to be a brilliant and thoughtful friend. I would be honored if you would accept this title.”

“I agree, there's nobody better I could think of for the job.” Hunk chimes in.

A large part of me wants to say no, it's bad enough trying to hold back my stupid feelings, while being in a platonic marriage, but additionally being pseudo-parents for a child together might wreak all kinds of havoc on my hormones. And yet, the three nicest people I know are asking me to do this. Hunk, annoying as he may be sometimes, is one of the best friends I've ever had, and Shay is such an angel, I could never deny her anything. But of course, Lance looking at me like I would be doing him a favor by co-Godparenting this unborn child is what ultimately does me in.

“I mean, if you insist. Don't say I didn't warn you if this kid becomes a hell-raiser.”

Their response is to envelope me in a group hug, which is par for the course with this group of people. Although I still have some apprehensions about this whole business, for the moment it doesn't seem too bad.

                                                          ---

The weather was pleasant for most of the day, but now as Lance and I are heading back to our house, the sky is beginning to look a bit overcast. This doesn't seem to disturb Lance one bit, who still seems to be giddy from the whole baby business. It's always nice to see him like this.

“You know, If you'd have asked us about five years ago which one of us would have more kids by the time we hit our twenties, we both would have said, me. And yet, here we are.”

“Is this you bragging about your playboy past again?”

“No, smart-ass. This is me reminiscing about my youth.”

“Really, at the ripe old age of 19?”

“I'll be 20 in a few months.”

“That's not a great counterargument.”

“I'll show you a counterargument!” He says as he tries to noogie me. But I see him coming, and am able to dodge in the nick of time. This devolves into a chase-tickle fight and for a while I am content to remain in this blissful state. However, Lance doesn't seem to be done with the topic.

“Do you ever think about having children someday?” He asks with his arms casually embracing me from behind, walking as if he is unhindered by our position.

Now that's a minefield of a question, and we were having such a good time too. “I don't know. You know I'm more comfortable with my lab than people. I just think I'd be worried about seriously messing up.”

“You do fine with Hunk and Shay's kids.”

“Well yeah, but I'm not in charge of them 24/7. With my own kid, I'd be bound to screw up at some point.”

“I think you should give yourself more credit. You're pretty dedicated to family, I think our marriage can more than attest to that. That's a great foundation to have as a parent, in my opinion. I bet you'd be one of those fierce protective moms. Like a bear, or a lioness.”

“Too bad we'll never find out” slips out of my mouth. When Lance stops us in our tracks, I begin to realize that I messed up.

“I'm sorry. I didn't realize you already made up your mind.” He says apologetically. For some reason that infuriates me.

“What do you have to be sorry for? Shouldn't you be happy that I'm not taking this from you too?”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

I really should stop right here, but now that I've gotten started I can't seem to curb my words anymore.

“Isn't it obvious? I'm a living reminder of all the things you can't have anymore. The last thing you should want is more living shackles.” I snap as I shake out of his embrace.

“Again, where is this coming from? Where do you get off deciding how I feel about you? You make it sound like I resent you!”

“Well, don't you? Sure, you weren't mauled by a lion, but your married to somebody other than the woman you love, and isn't that a special kind of torture?”

“I...! That's not relevant!”

“How could it not be relevant?! You told me you were sentenced because you loved the wrong person. Do you really think I wouldn't figure out who you were talking about!”

“Pidge, it's not what you think!”

“Stop lying to me! I'm not your real wife, I'm just a live-in Prison Warden, you don't have to spare my feelings!!!”

“I'm not lying to you, you just don't have all the facts!!!”

“Then enlighten me, Serrano?! What critical information am I missing?!”

As if the weather could sense my mood, a bolt of lightning strikes across the sky, and it begins to rain heavily. “Come on, let's get back to the house” Lance says somberly.

“Aren't you going to answer my question?” I retort, even as I'm shivering.

“Look, I'll tell you anything you want to hear as soon as we're indoors. Because I don't know about you, but I'd prefer if my gravestone didn't say 'killed by a bolt of lightning in the middle of an altercation with wife.'”

Right on cue, another bolt of lightning strikes, a little closer this time. I suppose he does have a point. I still make it a point not to talk to him as we rush back.

It's surprisingly difficult to hold on to your ire when your cold and drenched. But I've always been special like that. Lance, though, seems to have mellowed out in the way he worriedly puts his hands on my cheeks.

“Your freezing! I'll grab some towels and dry clothes. Why don't you get the fire started? You should probably have a hot bath too.”

The thought that he needs the hot bath as much as I do, or that he's still not answering my question crosses my mind, but I don't mention either, because the fact that he's showing this much concern for me when we are technically still fighting irritates me more. I silently head to the fireplace without acknowledging him. I know it doesn't make sense, but I want him to be angry too before I can talk to him again. It doesn't feel right that I'm the only one who feels like this. As I'm about light the first log, Lance taps me on the shoulder.

“Here, bundle yourself in this until I'm back. The sooner your out of those wet clothes, the better.” He says as he hands me my favorite comforter from the couch. Only once I take it in my hand does he finally leave. I'm almost tempted to remain in my wet clothes out of spite, but another shiver makes me think better of it. Once I have got the fire going I take off everything apart from my bracelet. It's irrational, which seems to be the trend at the moment, but even as incensed as I am, I can't bear to take it off. I haven't since he gave it to me.

I'm bundled up in the comforter, slowly regaining my warmth, when he returns with towels and dry clothes. He drops a towel on my head, and starts drying his own hair, seemingly already having changed clothes. After securing the comforter under my arms, I start to dry my own hair. At this point a normal person would just calm down, but we have already established that I'm a special kind of petty, so I deliberately begin doing the most inefficient job off toweling my scalp. This, of all things, seems to be the thing that finally annoys him, as he huffs and drops in front of me to vigorously take over.

I feel victorious for all of ten seconds until I realize that we are in ridiculously close proximity and I am, for all intents and purposes, naked. Lance seems to realize how unexpectedly intimate this moment is seconds later as he suddenly stops. I can't decipher what his facial expression is saying when I am finally brave enough to look up at him, so I am really caught by surprise at his next action.

He's… he's… kissing me. And it is unlike any other kiss we ever shared before. It isn't the awkward kiss from our wedding, or the quick, almost clinical pecks. This is more like the kisses the Ladies used to giggle about at the Dorm. It makes me wonder what I had been doing all this time when I could have been doing this. The kind that almost makes me whimper when he finally pulls away. At some point my eyes must have closed as I am a bit confused for a second when I can't see anything. However, what I do see makes me panic. I may have not been able to predict what he was going to do a minute ago, but this time it's all too clear. And right now, an apology is the last thing that I want. So I reach up before he can say anything and kiss him again, dropping the comforter in the process. Yesterday, or maybe even five minutes ago, I would have screamed at myself about what a bad idea this is, but right now I couldn't care less. Maybe it's because of my inexperience, but I have this desperate need to have him be in the same state of undress as me. The change of clothes will remain untouched tonight.

                                                            ---

The feeling of Lance's fingers drawing patterns on my thigh wakes me. It feels nice, but now that I am not caught up in the haze of last night anymore, my ability to think rationally has returned. Although my body would love nothing more than to drag him on top of me again, I have to put a stop to this trajectory before it gets even more complicated.

“Lance...” Woah, that sounded a lot more seductive than I wanted.

“What do you need, Querida ?” He whispers as his hand moves up to my stomach. Maybe having this conversation as he's spooning me might not be the most productive strategy. I turn to face him, and am a little confused by his expression. Sure he sounded satisfied, but I thought that was just an involuntary physical reaction. Yet, he looks like he's eager to repeat our last activity, which makes absolutely no sense. I remember what Allura looked like, and I have no doubt in my mind that their relationship was physical. Even memories of being with her must be more appealing than fumbling around with a plain looking virgin like me. OK, as of now I can't really say I'm a virgin anymore, but my point still stands. I'm getting distracted, and if Lance's fingers moving on my back are any indication, so is he.

I clear my throat before I try talking again. “I think we need to talk about what happened.”

“Oh yeah?” He answers dreamily.

I take a deep breath. “I mean the fight.”

“Ahh.” That seems to sober him up. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to avoid...”

“It's alright” I interrupt him.

“Are you sure?” He asks as he sits up “I didn't mean to keep my past a secret, it's just not entirely my story to tell...”

“Yeah, it's fine,” I say as I also sit up, careful to keep myself as covered as possible. “It's your decision on what you want to share with me, and I can understand you not wanting me in particular to know about something so private.”

“OK, I feel like I'm the one out of the loop now. What do you mean by that? Is this about how you called yourself my, what was it, 'live-in Prison Warden'? What is that all about?”

“Oh.” Strange, it never occurred to me that he wasn't aware of my real purpose. I suppose that's part of the design of this sentence. “I guess what they teach at the Dormitory is not as common as I thought. The point is, they’re not just instructing us on how to be good wives, with the standard cooking, hosting, and child-rearing lectures. We are also told, or borderline brainwashed, into learning how to bring our 'husbands' defenses down, in order to find out if they are intent on some kind of criminal activity. Ladies that turn in their husbands are rewarded much more than those who keep them upstanding. I'm pretty sure this was mentioned in our wedding vows, you should be aware of this.”

“Honestly that entire ceremony is a blur to me. I'll admit it sounds somewhat familiar, but I thought that was just ceremonial.” He self-consciously scratches the back of his head. Quiznack, why is he so endearing?

I sigh. “Look, I was being unfair to you then. Clearly, we had a different perspective of our relationship, and I wasn't honest about how I felt about your past, and my lack of knowledge. But you don't have to feel like you have to tell me. You've been nothing but kind to me all this time and you don't owe me anything.”

“I beg to differ, I literally owe you my life. If there is anything you want to know, all you have to do is ask.”

I am tempted to take him up on his offer, but I am still afraid of hearing the answer. “I'll wait until you're ready to tell me.”

He lets out a huge breath as he lies back. “I'm going to warn you now, that might take some time. There are some details I'm still trying to process myself, but I promise I will tell you everything.” The look in his eyes is incredibly sincere. “But I'll tell you right now, it's not as sordid as you probably think it is. I was essentially a glorified errand boy.” He stretches out his arms as he says this, which is insanely distracting. I shake my head and brace myself for the next part of our conversation. Sure, it's been going well until now, but it's bound to get somewhat awkward now that I'm actually addressing the other thing that happened.

“So, we should probably also discuss our… uh… tryst last night.”

This makes Lance overly alert again, and it's all I can do not just jump him myself. “That sounds reasonable.” He quips as he sits up again and tries to get as close as possible.

“I don't think it should happen again.”

“Oh...” He visibly deflates. “I must have really hurt you.”

Are you kidding me? How could he be this precious? “I mean at least for now. We clearly still have mixed feelings about each other, so we should probably hold off on a physical relationship until we have a better handle on things, right?” I add on. It feels a bit manipulative to imply that we might have a physical relationship again in the near future, but I just can't help myself. It kills me to seem him look so guilty.

“I guess that makes sense.” He says despondently, but at the very least he doesn't look as upset as he did earlier. “I wouldn't want to do anything that makes you uncomfortable. You mean a lot to me, Katie Holt.”

I am probably going to regret this, but the thought of him thinking that he makes me even remotely uncomfortable is killing me. “I wouldn't say you made me uncomfortable, it was just surprising. But it was not a bad kind of surprising.”

“I don't mind waiting. But I'll admit, it's going to be hard to think of anything else for a long time.”

“Is there anything I can do to make things easier?” So much for being rational. I can't even pretend I'm not doing this deliberately.

“Could I kiss you again?” We can both tell that it won't stop at just a kiss, but I can't stop my head from nodding. Post-coital euphoria is no joke. The kiss we share makes my entire body tingle, and as I suspected, it didn't stop at just my lips. He kisses my cheek, my neck, and basically the entire area between my shoulders, and I do nothing to stop him. In fact, I eagerly shed my covering as he pulls me towards him. After all the times we did it last night, what's one more bout going to change? We can always start abstaining afterwards.

                                                     ---

We wound up doing it four more times that day, five if you count us fooling around in the bath. And then a few more times the next day, and the next, and the next. At this point I've stopped telling myself that it would be the last time with every new instance. Those Dayaks really undersold how addicting sex is. However, the most surprising thing is how easily this new aspect fits into our routine. I still work on my projects, Lance still gardens, we go on little adventures, and hang out with our friends and he still does things ‘Just Because'. The only difference is that our physical interactions have had an upgrade. Hand-holding has become wrapping our arms around each other's shoulders, or waist in my case. Our chaste pecks have become toe-curling kisses. Caressing my hair is basically foreplay, and my morning forehead kisses are now naked cuddles.

I'm afraid we have become that couple, and yes, Hunk gives me grief about it. However, I can't bring myself to say that I don't like this development. Sure, my old concerns haven't completely disappeared, but this isn't really compromising my determination not to fall in love with Lance. After all, the new physical aspect to our relationship is just that - physical. We're both young and have needs, plus whenever we're together like that it relieves a huge amount of stress. Things like the nature of Lance's feelings for the princess, or the fact that we were essentially married under duress don't seem to matter when we're writhing naked in bed.

And the quiet moments are pretty blissful too. Like the one we are having right now. I am lying on top of him, my favorite place to lounge actually, just enjoying our after-sex haze, and Lance seems to be fascinated with my bracelet today. I for the life of me can't fathom why as he was the one who made it, but he can't seem to stop fiddling with it. It's a simple thing, a blue and a green wire entwined with a steel medallion attached. However, I love it. Even if whatever we had right now came to an end, I don't think I could bring myself to part with it no matter how painful it was.

“So, you really don't ever take it off? Not even when you shower?”

“Yeah, you might not have been aware of it, but you actually picked the perfect materials to make this with. You see, Olkari tech is made to interface with nature, so among other things it is waterproof. And the steel you chose is actually Taujeerian Steel, which is made to withstand the most harrowing environments, and basically never rusts.”

“Huh. I was just thinking it looked pretty together, and that you would like it because it’s techy.”

“I mean you’re not wrong” I shrug. “It also reminds me of you, so each time I look at it I can't help but smile.”

“Aww!” he says as he kisses my wrist, inexplicably making me giggle.

“I'm sorry I didn't get you anything. The gift giving aspect wasn't really focused upon in my lectures at the Dormitory, I was completely unprepared to give you a gift in return.”

“You know, Pigeon, at some point you will have to stop blaming everything on the Dormitory, and take responsibility for your actions. I'm a sensitive man, I can only take so much.” He over-dramatically covers his eyes with his right arm as he says this, milking this shtick for all it's worth.

“Alright, sensitive man” I say as push myself off his chest “I'll let you throw your pity party, but I would like to take a hot shower, so I'm going to go do that now.” I actually strut out of our room. I don't think I've ever strutted before, especially not in the nude. It seems to have made an impression on Lance too, because he suddenly seems to be less upset about the fact that I haven't gotten him a gift and follows me into the bathroom. However, that fact lingers with me to the point that I can't focus on my projects. So I do the logical thing and turn that into my new project. I start the first phase at lunch.

“Hey, I got inspired for a new project and I need to get some new material. Do you want to help out?”

Risky move, but I do need some material for other projects, and it's not unusual for me to ask him to accompany me either. He might not be tech savvy, but he likes shopping and is better at haggling than I am so he's actually very useful. I'm sure he won't get suspicious if I sneak off to purchase a bit of Snick Leather.

“Sure, you don't even need to ask. You wanna go today?”

“For the most part. There is some stuff you can't find here, so I was thinking of taking a weekend trip to Arus. I wish I didn't have to travel so far for those items, but it should be exciting to see our old neighborhood again. We could even visit the beach for a bit.”

“Ah! I'd love to, but I already promised to babysit for Hunk and Shay. They are going on their Anniversary vacation, remember?”

“Oh yeah, that totally escaped my mind.” I was completely aware of it. “That's too bad, it would have been fun to go with you… I know! I'll go with Matt. It's been a while since we hung out.” Basically since I started sleeping with Lance, but I'm sure there's no correlation.

“That's a great idea! But I really wish I could go with you. Are you sure you can't postpone your trip to next weekend?”

“The materials I'm looking for are pretty rare, if I go later I might not be able to get everything I need.”

“Fair enough.”

“Plus, we've been doing almost everything together since the wedding. Some space will do us good. Not to mention what we can do when I return.” I gently place my hand on his thigh, and give him my most innocent look. A winning combination, that I've only discovered recently. He doesn't have a chance.

“A-as long as you don't miss me too much.” he manages to pant out. Score.

                                                          ---

Acquiring the Snick Leather was effortless. Not only did I get it without Lance getting any wiser, but I got it at a pretty good price too. Despite its durability, it's not the most popular material as it is not too attractive. Works for me. Things become dicey on the weekend trip. Not because Lance got suspicious, at least I don't think he did, but because Matt happened to catch us in very intense goodbye kiss. I'm actually surprised he didn't comment on it until we got to the beach.

“Are you still convinced your feelings are one sided?”

“Just because we're having sex doesn't mean that we're in love.”

“Uh, you're married, so it's not just sex. Besides, all I knew up till now, is that you enjoy heavy makeouts. It's curious that you would bring up sex in the first place.”

“First of all, we were forced into getting married so it doesn't count. Also, I thought you were the older sibling. You should know that things are never that cut and dry.”

“Oh yeah? Then what are we doing here?”

“What do you mean now?”

“I mean, we’re hunting for sea glass for a sentimental gift. That doesn't sound like prototypical friends-with-benefits behavior.”

“He already gave me a gift, it would be rude not to give one back in return.”

“And that's another thing!” He emphasizes as he grabs my right arm. “Don't you think this bracelet is a very romantic gesture? I mean he made it of materials you like working with, and he even had the medallion engraved with… S.H? I don't get it?”

“It's my name, genius.”

“Really? Because last I checked, neither Katie nor Pidge started with an 'S'... Wait, is Lance in love with Dad?”

“No, doofus. It's my legal name. He wanted to do my initials originally, but there was only enough space for two letters. He couldn't decide between K.H or P.H, so went with S.H, for Serrano-Holt… Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Why didn't you tell me this before?”

“You never asked. I still don't see why that's making you look so giddy.”

“It's because he's staking his claim.”

“No, he's not!”

“But he totally is! Fact the first, he gave you a gift. But not just any gift, a self-made gift, so it is unique, and the connection with him is undeniable.”

“Matt...”

“Fact the second! He gave it to you spontaneously, not because of an anniversary, birthday, or romantic holiday, simply to please you.”

“Your wrong on that part, it was a late wedding gift.”

“Oh, you mean a gift for a government imposed ceremony where such sentimental gestures are not only not required, but are not expected whatsoever?”

“...”

“That's what I thought. Getting to the final fact, he literally put his name on it. If that isn't a classic display of primal ownership, I don't know what is.”

“You're reading too much into this, he gave this to me way before we… became this intimate.”

“Aww, look who's feeling bashful now” he mocks me. I punch him in the arm for his troubles. “But this just builds my case for me. This way you can't write this off as him rewarding you for keeping his endorphins active. He just, possibly on just a subconscious level, wanted to signal that you're taken.”

His arguments are actually compelling, but I don't want to admit it. I go back to searching for the perfect piece of sea glass.

“So do you admit defeat?”

“I think it's pointless to speculate about his feelings, when I could just ask him.”

“So are you going to?”

“No, and do you know why? Because I don't care.” Matt shrugs, but doesn't look convinced. I ignore him, and focus on my search. It takes a bit of time, but I eventually find the perfect one. It's shaped like a drop, almost as blue as Lance's eyes, but it also has some flecks of green, that give it an oceanic look. I grab a few more as backup. Luckily, Matt seems to be satisfied with all the comments he made about  my relationship, as he doesn't make any more remarks about it as we head to the Artisan. In fact, the rest of the trip goes much more smoothly. The Artisan, an old friend of Matt's named Nyma, is patient with me and I only destroy two of my backup glass pieces as I drill holes into them. She even helps me treat the Snick Leather, although not without scoffing.

“It's just such an ugly red.” She mutters. I don't argue with her, because I’m not in the mood to get into the cliche ‘Style vs. Function’ debate. Also, she's not forcing me to pick another material, so I don't really care what she says. After all, it's not for her.

“Do you want it reinforced?” She asks as I am about to attach the sea glass to the leather strip.

“What, the leather?”

“No, the only thing the Snick Leather needs is a dye job, which is impossible, because it's the leather from hell. I was actually talking about the sea glass. Based on your choice of leathers, you're hoping to make this trinket last for years. Well if you use this glass in its current state, it will last a week. A month if you're extra careful. However, there is a firing process that can make it nigh invulnerable. You know, if it doesn't burst from the pressure. But hey, that's what you have back-ups for.”

“Sounds good, let's do it.”

“Yeah, actually it's an eight hour process. And we only have the one oven, which won't be available for the weekend. But I still highly recommend that you take the extra wait time to have it done. I'll just have to mail it to you.”

“OK, do you have a piece of paper somewhere?”

I write down my address, and then I head out to meet Matt at the place we're lodging. I'm a little disappointed that I can't have the final touch on the necklace, but I did do most of the work, so I am quite content with that. Maybe it's Matt's theory, Hunk's past teasing, my own secret hopes swirling around in my head, or just the simple fact it now feels weird to sleep without Lance's body heat surrounding me, but that night I find myself having a hard time falling asleep.

                                                            ---

I did not actually expect to find the sea glass so soon, so we're heading back a day early. I just said goodbye to Matt and am heading to Hunk and Shay's place, where I expect Lance to still be. I see the kids playing in the garden as I approach. Hopefully, they're in a compliant mood.

“Hey guys!” I wave at them in what I hope comes across as friendly. Tui waves back, Mirax just glares. Oh goody, this is going to be fun. “Do you know where Uncle Lance is?”

“Yeah! He is...” Tui starts before he is interrupted by his sister

“Don't tell her.”

“Why not?”

“Because...” she looks at me smugly now “she is a stranger.”

I'm a what now?

“I'm not a stranger Mirax. I'm Uncle Lance's wife, remember?”

“Then why didn't you have a wedding?”

“We did have one, you just weren't there.”

“Why weren't we there?”

Geez, how do I say “because your parents didn't think a potential public execution was their idea of a fun family activity” without scaring her?

“It was a secret wedding. In fact, it was so secret, we didn't even know it was going to happen until it did.”

“That's not how weddings work!” She protests.

Wow, was I this opinionated as a three year old? I look to Tui in the vain hopes that he could help me, but all he does is shrug. Brilliant, I guess I'll have to use my secret weapon.

“Well I guess if I'm a stranger I'll have to eat these peanut butter cookies by myself” I say as I grab the packet of cookies from my satchel. This suddenly gets their attention. “Oh, yeah. I was going to share these with my good friends Mirax and Tui. But if you say I'm a stranger, then I guess I can't share them after all. Too bad. I was really, really looking forward to sharing with my friends but I guess I have no choice. Aaaa!” I take an exaggerated bite of the cookie. “No choice at all.”

Tui gives his sister a distressed look. Mirax looks like she's weighing up if her principles or a cookie have priority. In the end cookies win, naturally, because as much as she hates the fact that I take Uncle Lance's attention away from her, she is in fact only three. After two cookies, she is willing to talk.

“Uncle Lance is inside talking with his friend from the Castle. They have been in there forever, even though he promised to spend the weekend with us. And now you're going to take him away too.”

Friend from the Castle? Does she mean somebody from the Royal Guard? Or perhaps it's our case-worker. Is Lance finally going to be reassigned?

“I wasn't going to take Uncle Lance away. I just got back early and I wanted to say hi. I'll go check what's taking him so long, OK?”

“OK.” Mirax nods her agreement. I head for the front door and try my best to sneak insides in the hopes of surprising him. Instead I am startled when I discover that the 'Friend from the Castle' was none other than Princess Allura.

    ��                                                        ---

It's been a week, and I still can't get the image out of my mind. They were hugging, and I think I saw tears in the princess' eyes. I'm not proud of my decision to flee, but I had been so overwhelmed with emotions that I was afraid of what I would do. A part of me hopes this is a misunderstanding, but I don't feel so optimistic about that. Lance insisted that there was no relationship between him and Allura, but perhaps he just wasn't aware of how she felt about him. The fact that she went so far as to find out which door I would be behind, coupled with how sad she was that day, clearly indicates that she has some regard for him. I want to scream and beg simultaneously, anything to make him experience the fraction of the turmoil I am going through. But I know the moment I do that, I will put an end to what we have, and as miserable as I am, I can't quite bring myself to do that. So, I'll just wait until he finally calls it quits, no matter how long it takes.

I can't bear to be intimate with him anymore. Not now that I've finally stopped lying to myself. There's nothing like seeing your husband embracing another woman to make you admit that you're in love with him, am I right? Lance never questioned me about my sudden reluctance, but I can see that he's confused. It almost makes me want to just confess everything, but I'm afraid of what the outcome to that will be. No, I just want to savour what little time I have left. I know my actions might not reflect it, but even like this I still cherish his presence, and I don't want to be the one that pushes him away.

In other news, the gift arrived yesterday. I contemplated throwing it out the whole day, but for the same reason I still haven't taken my bracelet off, I couldn't bring myself to get rid of it. It was a labor of love, and even if he doesn't return my feelings, I would like to give it to him some day. Perhaps as a farewell present.

“Pidge, I think we should talk.” Oh. I somehow thought I would have more time. “I might be the one overthinking things for once, but I feel like there is something off between us, and I don't know how to fix it. So if I upset you somehow then please, just tell me what I can do to make things right?”

Here goes nothing.

“... I love you, Lance.” His eyes practically pop out. “And before you say anything, I need to get a few more things of my chest, so please let me just say it all first.” He was already in the midst of saying something, but instead he shuts his mouth and nods. I take a deep breath. “I know about you and Allura. Or at the very least, I think I do. I am aware she acquired confidential information just so she could help you choose the right door. I know this because she told me as much at the wedding. I know that she played a central part in you being convicted. I also saw her hugging you with tears in her eyes.

So, I've come to a decision. I appreciate everything you have done on my behalf. However, I want you to think about yourself now. The woman you loved returns your feelings, at least to some degree. So if you think there's a chance you can be together, then I want to support you. I know it will hurt, but don't worry about me. You're my first love, so heartbreak was inevitable. And I know it will be complicated, what with us being married, and Lotor being ridiculously possessive of Allura, but I'm sure we'll work something out so...” I need to grab the gift “... that's the gist of it.” I head towards our room but am not able to take any more than two steps before Lance picks me up and begins showering my face with kisses. Three on my forehead, five on my left cheek, eight on my right, two on each eyelid, and countless ones on my temples. What is going on?

“I'm so sorry” Huh? “I'm sorry, I love you too. So much, you have no idea. And is it OK if I talk now? Quiznack, I should have told you everything ages ago. True, I didn't have all the facts until recently, but I should have told you what little I know. I can't believe I left you to worry about whether I was hung up on somebody else. Can you ever forgive me?”

I am honestly too dazed to move. He carries me to the living room, where he sits down on his favorite spot and makes it a point not to let me leave his lap. He puts his forehead against mine, takes a deep breath, and begins his story.

                                                            ---

I was 18 and had just been inducted officially into the Royal Guard. That very year, Princess Allura of Altea arrived for what was officially a diplomatic mission, but that everybody knew was ploy to create an alliance via marriage between her and Lotor. I think pretty much everybody who didn't already have a significant other was a little bit in love with her. A princess is basically every soldier's fantasy, and it didn't hurt that she was stunning to look at. And you know me, even back in Arus I was always full of bluster. I kept on bragging about the fact that the princess was going to fall hopelessly in love with me, it was just a matter of time, despite never having talked to her.

One day, one of my fellow soldiers—I think it might have been Griffin, it could have been Kinkade—dared me to actually do something about it if I was so confident. So I did… by writing love poems. Please don't ask me to recite any, just thinking about them makes me wince. Anyway, I would basically compose these atrocious poems and then hand them over to Allura's handmaiden—Romelle. You remember her, right?—in the hopes that she would deliver them. For a while, nothing happened, but one day Romelle actually returned with a response from the princess. She also had a note, which was apparently from her to 'the handsome broody one.' I knew right away she must be talking about Keith. The letter I got was a polite refusal, and I never did find out what was in Keith's note because right after he read it he kissed it and then burned it. I thought that was odd, but I generally thought that he was an odd person, so I shrugged it off.

For a few months, this was the pattern. I would send a sub-par poem, Romelle would deliver a polite rejection letter from the princess, and a personal note for Keith. I would deliberately misconstrue my message, Keith would kiss his note and burn it, I’d wait a week, we’d restart the cycle. It was as routine as marching. And then the messages stopped. Even I could recognize that as a dismissal, and although I was upset for a bit, I got over it. At the very least I took comfort in the fact that Keith seemed to have been dumped by Romelle too. And hey, being dumped by a handmaiden has got to be more embarrassing than being dumped by a princess. When I reached out to him, in the hopes of having someone to commiserate with, he told me that they had moved, 'beyond the letter writing stage'. You bet that annoyed me like nothing else.

However, I started to become curious. Keith and I shared the same quarters, so I always noticed when he sneaked in and out. I started to notice that every-time he returned he actually looked happy, which if you knew Keith you would know is super rare. The fact that his relationship could change his attitude this drastically was nothing short of miraculous to me. So one day I asked him 'What's it like to be in love?' He was hesitant to answer me at first, but when I confessed that I am not sure I really know what it feels like, after some deliberation he basically recited this huge monologue about love from scratch. I think, to this day that's the most I heard him speak, and I wish I could remember everything, but I think it boiled down to 'loving someone is finding wonder in the small things and uninhibitedly facing the big things.' Not only did he give me a new understanding of love, but I realized, that I might have been writing him off too harshly. So, I offered to be an open ear if he ever wanted to gush about his lady friend. I was actually surprised when he actually took me up on that offer.

And so our friendship began. At first it was just him talking about Romelle—and perhaps I should have taken more note about the fact that he never referred to her by name. She, her, or occasionally 'My love', but never Romelle—but soon he talked about other topics. Like the fact that his mother is actually a member of the Galra Splinter Group who oppose the Emperor, and how he never understood how chants work. He even showed me some of his personal treasures.

Things were like this until maybe a week before our wedding. That day, Lotor stormed into our barracks, demanding that we report to him immediately. When we all had gathered, he held up a standard Royal Guard helmet and raged about the fact that somebody in our company had “soiled Princess Allura” and if we don't give the culprit up in five minutes he was going to make us all regret it. I, of course, had instantly realized who the helmet belonged to. Keith. I didn't have all the facts, but some things were suddenly clicking in my mind. The princess putting effort into composing responses to my stupid poems, Keith burning his letters, the fact that he never called Romelle by her name. Keith had never been in a relationship with Romelle, it had always been Allura. And I had been nothing but a smokescreen. I honestly felt a little betrayed, but I couldn't say I blame him. However, maybe because now I was invested in our friendship, maybe because I felt it was unfair that their love was going to be torn apart because of politics of all things, I claimed the helmet as mine. When people started doubting my claim, I told them I had been exchanging letters with Allura, and they could check my belongings for them. And, before I knew it, I was locked in a cell, condemned to the Lady or Lion Sentence.

Keith came by once, offered to tell the truth, told me he was sorry this was happening, that I shouldn't even be doing this because my family and friends would be devastated. All I asked him to do was to apologize to Allura for the garbage poetry. I was afraid, but willing to die for a noble cause. Perhaps in the future someone would write a ballad about me. But instead of getting mauled by a Lion, I got you.

                                                         ---

“Wonderful, breathtaking you” he whispers as he pulls me closer to him. “I couldn't believe that I had not only survived, but become reconnected to one of my dearest friends. At first, I was just trying to cheer you up, because there was this melancholy that seemed to hang over you like a cloud. And then there was this one time I managed to make you laugh, and I remember thinking ‘Wow, there she is.' I think that must have been when I started to love you, because from that day, making you happy was the only thing that gave me joy. I like being around you, listening to you gush about your projects, watching your eyes light up when you found the perfect material for your inventions, and even when you're making fun of me. I couldn't get enough of you, and I honestly hadn't spared a thought towards Allura until that day we had that big fight.”

He sighs as he stroked my hair. “I should have told you about everything right then. I still don't know why I didn't. I guess I was embarrassed about my behavior, and perhaps I was afraid that you wouldn't like me anymore, or that you would misunderstand. And then when we had sex, I just got caught up with you in a completely different way. It is during this time I should have told you that I loved you, repeatedly. Even if you didn't believe me, at least you would know what's on my mind.” He leans back to take a look at me and gasps “Pidge, Katie, please don't cry. I can't handle that.”

“It's OK, Lance.” I manage to rasp out. “I'm just a little overwhelmed. Please, keep going.”

“OK, so when Allura came by, it was because Keith and her had decided to run away together and she wanted to check up on me, say goodbye, and give me an explanation and apology.”

“So, what did she tell you?”

“Uhm, turns out Keith was also a member of this Splinter Group like his mother. He was tasked with protecting the Princess as some Galra officials were against an alliance with Altea and they were willing to assassinate her to further their goals. Keith saved her from a few of these assassins, and once the sources were rooted out and dealt with, he was technically supposed to disappear and return to his headquarters. But he didn't do it. At that point he had fallen in love with Allura, and as it turned out, she had fallen for him as well. It was around then that the whole letter business started.”

“That's… quite dramatic.”

“I know!” he laughs, but suddenly becomes serious again. “Pidge, I really screwed up. I caused you so much pain and distress when that's the last thing I ever wanted for you. If you give me another chance, I will do whatever it takes to make it up to you and try my best to never let anything like this happen again. So… what do you say?”

A million arguments flood my mind, but they seem to be dashed by some aspect of his confession. After some thought I finally said. “You're really going to do whatever it takes?”

“Yes, mi Reina , anything.”

“So, you'll do anything I ask?”

“As long as I don't get hurt, yes.”

“... Say it again.”

“Say what again?”

“That you love me.”

I don't know if I have ever seen him smile more beautifully than he is smiling now. “I love you.” He says as he caresses my cheek. “I love you, Pidge.” He strokes my hair. “I love you, Katie.” He kisses my nose. “I love you, Katie Holt.” A kiss to my neck that makes me sigh. “I love you, Pidge Holt.” One of his hands go under my shirt. “I love you, Katie Pidge Holt.” He finally kisses my lips. “I love you so much, Katie Pidge Serrano-Holt, it scares me sometimes.” He's got me wrapped up in his arms. He's about to say it again, when I interrupt him by kissing his clavicle. “I love you too, Lance Serrano. Despite my hesitation.”

And then it devolves into a game. An 'I love you' plus an intimate act, back and forth, gradually escalating. We wind up in our room, divested of our clothes and excited to make love to each other. It's a little different from how it used to be, less frantic, more drawn out. It's less about pleasuring our bodies and more about demonstrating how we feel for each other. We go on like this until we run out of steam, which happens to be towards the dawn.

Surprisingly, I wake up again in an hour, afraid that everything was a dream that came about from my yearning. And that is when I hear him whisper 'I love you, Katie' in his sleep, confirming that it had all been reality. I think I could die here and I would be content. I am overcome with a desire to kiss him all over his beautiful face, but first, I grab his gift from its hiding place. I give in to my earlier desire, and before long, he is kissing me back.

“What did I do to earn such a pleasant wake-up call?”

“I kinda need you to do something for me.”

He sighs. “Sure, what do you need?”

“Could you close your eyes and sit up.”

“Uh, OK?” Have I ever mentioned how adorable, sleepy, confused Lance is? When he complies with my request I take the necklace out of the box, and put it over his neck. I smile when I realize that my ideal sea glass made it through the reinforcing process.

“OK, you can open your eyes now.”

“Can I also lie back down?”

“If you prefer.” He drops back onto the bed, and slowly flutters his eyes open. In his sleepy state, it takes him a little to process that he has a necklace on now.

“Wait, did you...?”

“Yes.”

“For me?”

“Yes, do you like it?”

“Of course I do, but why? It's not going to be my birthday for another two months.”

I shrug, before lying on top of him and kissing him again.

“Just Because.”

#Lady or the Tiger AU #Pining #Misunderstanding #plance #Plance Minibang 2019 #Why do I always write stories where Pidge is in denial? #Future edits to be made for both this and the Ao3 version

[idreamofhazel]

What Could’ve Been and What Will Be

If you’re wondering why this is being posted, may I direct you here?

Summary: A case brings you and Sam back together two years after he rescued you from a Djinn. It’s a bittersweet reunion that leaves you with some choices to make.

Pairing: Sam x reader, italics are reader’s POV

Word Count: 8.2k

Warnings: a little angsty, some fluff

This was originally posted in four parts.

Author’s note: This is the very piece of Supernatural fanfiction I ever wrote and posted back in April 2016. This story basically made me obsessed with writing. It’s the reason you’re stuck with me almost three years later! Please take any cringiness in stride.

The dim light of the library and the comforting smell of old books was making Sam drowsy, but he continued to search for cases on his laptop. One in particular had caught his eye. After spending a couple of minutes staring at the bright screen that was fatiguing his eyes, debating on whether to mention this one to Dean or not, he finally spoke up.

“Hey Dean, I think I’ve got something,” Sam said, looking up from his laptop.

Mumbling through a mouth full of cheeseburger, Dean said, “Yeah, what is it?”

“There’s been a few disappearances in a small town in Indiana. All of them have been young women, each about 2 or 3 weeks apart. Could be nothing, but we could at least check it out.”

The name of this small town sent Sam’s memory and emotions into a flurry. He kept this from Dean, though. He didn’t want to get his hopes up, and yet he also hoped this case would turn out to be nothing, for your sake.

(Y/N).

He hadn’t thought about you in such a long time, having pushed his memories and feelings about you under the surface in order to protect you from this kind of life. The hunting life. He hoped this potential case wouldn’t jeopardize that. Of course, he didn’t even know if you still lived in the same town. Maybe you had moved on to something better. He hoped you had.

“Eh, why not. We’ve been stuck in this bunker for awhile anyway. How far away is it?” Dean asked while stretching his arms behind his head and then getting up from his chair at the table. The sudden screech of the chair legs across the floor jolted Sam awake from his thoughts.

“Uh...about 10 hours,” Sam answered, unsure if Dean would agree to check out this possible hunt, knowing how far away it is. But Sam had a hunch about what could be happening in this town. He decided to to wait on revealing anything to Dean, though. After all, this could be a completely different monster than last time, or maybe it was just humans.

“Wow. Why this case? Isn’t there something closer we could check out?”

“Not that I found. It’s this or nothing.” That wasn’t entirely truthful, though. Sure, there were some other small leads closer to Kansas, but Sam knew there was a higher possibility of this case turning out to be a hunt.

“Ok, ok,” Dean grumbled, “I’ll start packing stuff up. We can leave in the morning.”

Dean left the library. Sam stayed behind, staring at the laptop screen, but letting his mind wander to the last time he was in the town that him and Dean were about to travel to.

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“This has been the fourth disappearance in 6 weeks. Catherine Smith went missing two days ago from her campus apartment. Her roommate had just returned from a weekend trip and noticed that...”

You promptly changed the channel. You had heard about a couple of the other disappearances. They were all over the news, but you tried to ignore them. It’s not that you didn’t care about the victims, but you had done so well to rebuild your life after what happened two years ago, so you tried to stay away from anything that could trigger the memories you had been successful in conquering lately. Even if these disappearances turned out to be just a serial killer, or a even a coincidence, it was best if you stayed away from anything that suggested “supernatural” for now. You turned your focus to the movie that was now on the screen. Another one of those cheesy, romantic tv movies. You watched it anyway. It was sort of a guilty pleasure of yours.

After dinner, you felt so exhausted from your long day at work and your full stomach that you decided to turn in for the night. It was only 9:30, but you thought that even if you didn’t get out much, you at least had your life together with a stable job. That’s the best you could ask for right now considering what you had been through. After checking all the locks on the doors and windows, you washed up, changed into some shorts and a t-shirt, turned on some quiet piano music, and got into bed. The copious amount of pillows around you comforted you and made you feel as if you were in your own, safe cocoon, far away from any monsters. Drifting off to sleep, your mind wandered to a face you hadn’t seen in quite some time…

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

Dean’s insanely fast driving turned what was supposed to be a ten and a half hour trip into a seven hour trip. It was a wonder that Dean never got pulled over. He and Sam reached their destination around noon, found a motel, and settled in. The long drive had afforded Sam plenty of time to mull over his memories of you and allow his imagination to slowly drift to the possibility of seeing you again. Dean had noticed Sam’s absentmindedness during the drive and even while they were unpacking at the motel. He had barely spoken since they hit the road this morning. Something was definitely up with Sam today.

“Hey Sam?” Dean said. He and Sam were sitting in their motel room gathering any last minute information they could before heading out to start investigating the kidnappings.

Looking up from his laptop, Sam replied, “Yeah, what’s up?”

“Everything ok? You seem a little…distracted. You sure you’re up for a possible hunt? We need to be focused”

“Uh, no, I’m…I mean, yeah, everything’s good. I’m definitely focused on the case.”

That much was true. Sam was probably more focused on this case than any other one he’d been on lately, except maybe for the ones involving Amara. Sam had been searching for you on the internet, trying to find any information at all that would help him protect you if needed. When Dean interrupted his search, Sam had just found your address. You still lived in town. Sam’s heart sank and rose all at the same time. He might see you again, but at what cost?

“Ok, well let’s go to the police station and get the names of the families we’re supposed to interview. Hopefully the drive here was worth it,” Dean offered.

“Sure, yeah. Good idea,” Sam agreed, rubbing his hands over his eyes and then getting up from his chair. He pulled out his suit from his bag and began to change.

“Ma’am, we understand this is difficult, but the FBI has some new leads that might possibly help us solve this case and find out what happened to your daughter.”

Sam was always able to get even the most reluctant person to open up to him. His skills in this area were invaluable to his and Dean’s work. Dean had spent most of the day as Sam’s assistant, watching while Sam easily and softly got the victims’ families to talk to him about the most difficult time of their lives. Right now, Sam was talking to the mother of the third victim. The first two victims’ bodies had already been discovered. Sam knew it was only a matter of time until the police found the third one too, but he couldn’t find it in himself to completely crush this mother’s hopes.

“Do you…do you think she could still be alive?” Mrs. Riley questioned from behind her tear-soaked tissue.

Hesitantly, Sam looked at her and, with the most sincerity he could muster, he replied, “As long as they haven’t found her…her body yet, there’s still hope.”

Mrs. Riley nodded, looking down at the floor. Dean and Sam glanced at each other, signaling that it was time to move on to the next house.

Sam and Dean thanked Mrs. Riley for her time, went out to the Impala, and drove to their next destination. Dean had yet to discover a connection between the victims or any leads that suggested creatures other than humans being involved, but Sam’s head was churning with possible explanations. However, he was going to wait until they interviewed the fourth family before telling Dean about any of the information he knew.

Pulling up to the driveway, the lot was tranquil and suburban. A large willow tree swayed in the wind in front of the picturesque gray house. Flowers lined the front of the house and hung from pots on the porch. Memories of when Sam questioned your friend’s family in their home about your disappearance hit him like a brick wall, making the scene hard to take in. This house looked so similar. Sam remembered finding out that you didn’t have much of a family anymore. Your friend and her parents had become your own surrogate family ever since your mom died. Your mother’s death hit you hard and you slipped into a dark period of your life. You loved to read and spend time in the quiet, alone with your own thoughts. You eventually found peace in this. Sam remembered showing a slight smile in that moment when he was told this, recognizing that he completely understood that need. You had gone to the library the day you disappeared. Thinking back, it was unfortunate that he hadn’t found out all of this information from you.

"Man, are you sure we need to talk to this family? I'm just not getting anything from this case." Dean was becoming frustrated and bored. He was ready to move onto a real case.

"I really think we need to talk to the last victim's family. Everything is still fresh in their minds. They could remember something more helpful," Sam argued.

Huffing, Dean got out of the car and walked up to the door. Sam swiftly followed. The door was answered quickly by a woman, the mother. The two brothers flashed their badges and she welcomed them in and offered them something to drink.

"No, thank you, Mrs. Smith. We don't want to take up too much of your time, really. We just need to ask you a few questions. The FBI has a new angle for the case, so we just need some more information," Sam said to Mrs. Smith.

"Of course, please, ask whatever you need to if it helps bring my daughter home safely."

Sam and Dean ran through the usual questions--cold spots, weird noises in the walls, sulfur smell--just to make sure this case fit with the rest. They asked about her daughter, what she had been up to lately, and how her life was going. Everything Catherine's mother said was positive. She was doing well in college, had a great boyfriend, and was on the college basketball team. She had recently moved in with a roommate in order to make the last step toward adulthood: being out on her own. Her disappearance couldn't have come at a worse time. Catherine's life reminded Sam of your own. You had already graduated college when he met you, but you were just starting over again in your life. You had a new job, your own place. Your family had revealed all this to Sam. They were devastated by your disappearance. You had been able to overcome your mothers death and move on from your grief, only to be kidnapped and have your own life threatened...

At the end of the interview, Mrs. Smith asked Sam to let her know of any changes in the case and he agreed. Sam and Dean left and returned to the motel.

"I don't know, Sam. I don't see anything weird about this case. I don't think it's our type of thing," Dean said, "What are you thinking?"

Sam replied, "I want to talk to Catherine's roommate. Her mom seemed to think everything was fine, but this roommate could have some different information."

Sam had already begun to piece this case together. It was so similar to last time. Each of the young women who had been taken were just starting out on their lives, but still struggling with something. He just needed to be sure all the disappearances fit this description.

"Sure, whatever," Dean grumbled, "You go do that. I'm taking a nap. But if there's nothing, we're leaving."

Sam nodded and headed out the door. He was beginning to think he was going to have to tell Dean about the last time he worked this case. He would keep you a secret though. The less involved you were with this monster, the better.

Catherine’s roommate had a very different story to tell. Even though she was reluctant to tell Sam about Catherine’s recent misfortunes, Sam eventually pulled the information from her.

Catherine’s issues started about a month ago. Her boyfriend broke up with her and the heartbreak caused her grades to slip. She got suspended from the basketball team, but kept all of this from her parents. She had felt a lot of pressure from them to succeed in college, but she had hit a rough spot. Her roommate also let Sam know that she had starting talking to another man. The roommate never saw him around, but Catherine would go to see him often. He hadn’t called about Catherine since her disappearance, though. With all of this information in hand, Sam knew without a doubt, the monster had returned.

Before going back to the hotel, Sam drove to a small park and gave himself a few minutes to think about what he was going to do next, to think about you. 

You still lived in town. The monster was back. There was no guarantee that he would come after you again, but Sam had to make sure you were safe. His thoughts flashed back to when he found you last time, tied up and barely alive. He saved you just in time. His priority was to get you out safely and he knew he couldn’t do that and go after the monster at the same time. He was hunting alone and so he sacrificed killing the monster in that moment in order to get you to a hospital. He remembered how brave you were, how, with all the strength your weak and tired body could muster, you tried to sit up in his car, to speak, to tell him about your abductor. You had said, “You’re probably going to think I’m crazy but...” Sam had stopped you and explained that he knew all about the monsters. When you both got to the hospital, Sam tenderly carried you through the doors and held you until nurses came with a cot and wheeled you away. He explained how he found you as an FBI agent and told the nurses that he needed to stay with you. They cleaned you up and checked for broken bones and any other serious problems. 

Sam admired how calm you stayed, allowing the nurses and doctors to check every inch of you for injuries. You answered their questions, quickly coming up with a decent cover story, leaving out all details of anything non-human. He remembered thinking that you were so intelligent. When the hospital staff was done getting you set up in a room, Sam pulled a chair up to your bed and asked you your name.

“(Y/N),” she answered softly, “I can’t thank you enough-”

Sam had put his hand up to say that you didn’t need to thank him. You smiled at him--god, your smile was so beautiful--and nodded as if to say that you understood that this was Sam’s job. He didn’t need a thank you right now. He had only needed to know you would be ok. He asked you what the doctors had said about your condition. You checked out fine, you were just dehydrated and had suffered from blood loss. You were able to go home in a couple of days as long as there were no complications. Sam stayed with you until evening. He didn’t want to leave, but the monster was still out there. Sam explained to you that he had to go. You would be ok, but he was going to leave town after he finished up here. You had seemed to understand. He couldn’t believe how understanding you were in that moment. It’s as if you already knew what kind of life he led. You amazed Sam, with your calm demeanor, your intelligence, your understanding, and with your beauty. Sam had no idea how someone who had just been through hell could still look so beautiful only a few hours after escaping it.

When Sam got up to leave, he took your hand and held it for a moment, smiling at you. He laid it gently back onto the bed and then walked to the door.

You stopped him. “Wait,” you said, “I don’t know your name.”

He turned around, the corners of his mouth slowly curving upward, and he gladly answered, “It’s Sam.”

Sam never found the monster again. He tracked it for three more days, but it had vanished.

A buzz from Sam’s phone brought him back to the present. It was Dean.

“Hey, where are you? Is everything ok? You’ve been gone for hours.”

“Yeah, yeah. Sorry, I’ve just been thinking, trying to piece together this case. I’m on my way back now. The roommate’s information was really helpful. I know what we’re hunting.”

“We’re hunting a djinn,” declared Sam.

He had returned to the motel after Dean called him. Dean highly doubted that this case would turn out to be a hunt, but Sam knew otherwise. He decided it was time to reveal what he knew to Dean.

“What? How do think that?” Dean asked, the surprise in his voice unmasked.

“I’ve hunted it before.”

If Sam didn’t have Dean’s attention before, he certainly did now.

“What do you mean you’ve hunted it before? You didn’t think that was a good idea to tell me before we talked to all those families? We could’ve already ganked this thing!” Dean voices was terse and agitated.

Sam had already thought of his response. “I needed to be sure. I didn’t want to hunt after something that wasn’t there. I thought I could just, I don’t know, play it by ear, see what happens.”

Dean relaxed a bit, but was still visibly annoyed that Sam hadn’t just told him this from the get-go. “Well, how do you know it’s here now? And when did you hunt this stupid genie anyway?”

“It was after Kevin’s death, when you took off. I worked a couple cases while you were gone. I came across the stories about the kidnappings and decided to check it out. And now the same exact pattern is happening again.”

“And what pattern is that exactly?”

“The djinn finds young women who are struggling in life, who would easily succumb to his promises of something different, something better. He disguises himself as a human, like that djinn that almost got you, Brigitta. He gets to know them and then, when he has their trust, he takes them to his hideout and uses his magic on them. It happened this way last time and it’s happening again. Every woman who’s been taken has been struggling with something or had a tragedy happen recently.”

“What about Catherine? Her mother seemed to think everything was peachy.”

“Yes, even her. Her roommate told me she was recently dumped, starting failing her classes, and got suspended from the basketball team. And she started talking to some ‘mystery guy’ who the roommate never saw come around.”

Dean began to put the pieces together himself. “Ok, so this creep finds women who are at the worst points of their lives and then feeds off of them? Great. We’re hunting a sociopathic djinn with a ‘type.’”

“I know.”

“Sammy...why didn’t you off this guy the first go around?”

Sam knew exactly what to say to get Dean off his case. “I-I was hunting alone. He was stronger than I expected. He knocked me out and when I woke up he was gone. I tried tracking him, but he vanished. I thought he’d skipped town.”

“So this guy is extra creepy because he’s still obsessed with this town and these women. We need to do this right this time. Do you think he’d hole up in the same place?”

“I don’t know if he’d be dumb enough to do that, but it wouldn’t hurt to check. Let’s get the addresses of any other abandoned places in town and check out a few of them tonight. We can’t waste any more time, he’s still got Catherine.”

“Sam, we don’t exactly have an endless supply of lamb’s blood lying around to use. Why don’t you check the addresses while I go to some butcher shops or something and see if I can get the blood.” That was going to be an amusing conversation, Dean thought.

“Ok, good plan.”

Sam, stretching out across one of the dingy motel beds began to quickly search for any building in the area that the djinn might use to hide his victims. Dean took off to get the supplies.

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(Earlier that same day)

At the office, you couldn’t stop thinking about the disappearances. Fliers were posted on the streets, local news channels were constantly updating the public, and your co-workers wouldn’t stop discussing it. You couldn’t escape any of it. Your thoughts were running circles in your head all morning. What if it was that man again? Or some other horrible monster? You never did find out the name of that creature or if Sam had finally caught up to him.

Sam...

He was in your dreams last night, a blur of tender, caring gestures and smiles. This dream was just like the day he rescued you, hazy and surreal from the effects of what you had just experienced. Your brain took a leap of faith: What if he was in town hunting again?

“(Y/N)! Helloooo? Hey!” A hand was snapping in front of your face almost on queue to tell you that your imagination was being unreasonable. It was your co-worker, Grace.

“Geez, what has gotten into you today? You’re never this spacey. I’ve been trying to get your attention for like five minutes! I need you to run to FedEx and pick up the new business cards for the office. They just came in and the boss doesn’t want to wait for them to be delivered,” Grace explained.

“Oh, wow, I’m sorry. I’m just... really tired, I didn’t sleep well at all last night. Those crazy callers from yesterday really stressed me out. I’ll go run and do that right now,” you replied, lying about the reason for your zoning out.

“Bad sleep” couldn’t be further from the truth. In fact, you had slept more peacefully last night than any other night you could remember. As you drove off to pick up the office’s order, you remembered that Sam had that effect on you. 

After being bound and drained of your blood for three days, slipping in and out of alternate realities, quickly losing track of what was real and what wasn’t, you were frightened and anxious, to say the least. You don’t really remember Sam coming into the warehouse or untying you. You came-to in his car, though, a bump jolting you awake. You began to panic, trying to explain what happened because you needed to know whether you were crazy or not, but as soon as you felt Sam’s hand on your shoulder and his calm voice reassure you, you were able to settle down. You’d never felt weaker in your entire life and you began to feel dizzy from the blood-loss. Adrenaline rushing through your brain and into your muscles had given you the last shot of energy to sit up and speak, but after laying back down, you succumbed to the overwhelming fatigue that was weighing down on you. The next thing you remember was laying in a hospital bed, being wheeled down the hall. Again, anxiety began to sweep over you until you saw your mystery man walking right beside the bed. You didn’t know if it was his smile, his soft touch, or the sheer fact that he had confirmed you weren’t crazy that made you unusually calm around him. He smiled down at you reassuringly.

His presence in the room made the doctor’s examinations and questions much easier to get through. You had to make up a convincing story about your abduction and injuries, so sometimes you could feel panic starting to rise up in your chest, your heart beginning to beat faster. All you had to do, though, was look over at Sam and you were reminded that there was someone else who knew all about this crazy world you had just been introduced to. You didn’t have to experience this alone and in ignorance. You were so thankful that he told you the truth about what had happened to you. Otherwise, returning to reality would’ve been even more difficult than it had been.

When Sam said he had to leave, you understood why. You knew that this monster needed to be hunted. You just wished that Sam could stay a little bit longer. Your family would be here soon, though. You replayed your last memory of him over and over again as you drove through the city. He had stopped at the sound of your voice, turning around to look at you. Time seemed to slow, and with an intense gaze and soft smile, he answered your request to at least know his name, “It’s Sam.”

That was the last time you heard his voice or saw his face. For a few days, everything seemed fine. You went back home after being released from the hospital. The police assured you that they would catch the guy who did this to you. Your family helped you put new locks on the doors and windows of your house for extra protection. They purchased an alarm system for you as well. You went back to work after a few days of recovery, but that’s when things started to go downhill.

Once you were back out into the real world, every man who looked like your abductor sent chills down your spine and anxiety pulsing through your veins. You began to see him everywhere. In the corner of your eye. In the man on the street who’s face you couldn’t see. At home, any unknown sounds sent you into panic mode. The creak of a floorboard, the wind hitting your screen door, any of it could be that “thing” coming back to finish the job. You couldn’t get his glowing blue eyes out of your head. They haunted you in your dreams, keeping you from sleep. Eventually, it became so bad that you stopped going to work. Venturing outside seemed too dangerous and you had begun to have panic attacks when something reminded you of your kidnapping. You stayed home everyday, depressed by the constant fear in your life and your debilitating condition. It was at this point when your family made you get help. They convinced you to see a doctor who specialized in this type of thing. You were reluctant to talk to her, but within a few minutes of chatting together, you felt you could trust her. She gave you a name to what was happening to you. A name you could use to target your efforts against. PTSD.

With the therapist’s help, you slowly but surely began to heal. She helped lessen your reactions to your triggers, teaching you how to relax. Since you wouldn’t be able to face your attacker and conquer your fear in-person, she suggested you take self-defense classes so you could not only learn how to protect yourself, but you could also imagine every punch, every kick, every hit landing onto your abductor. You took her advice and enrolled in a self-defense class, a martial arts class, and a course on guns. You put all your time and energy into perfecting your fighting skills. One year later, you left therapy and returned to a new job and a new home. During the next year, your life changed even more. Your best friend had gotten married and moved to New York for a job offer. Her parents retired and spent most of their time traveling. Sometimes your anxiety would seep back into your body, especially since your life felt like it was in a constant flux, but you had it under control. You knew it was only natural to feel this way after experiencing a trauma. And you knew what to do if the day ever came when you had to face this monster head-on.

Your trip to FedEx took a little longer than expected. The employee seemed annoyed that you had come to pick up the package early, but you told him that you were under “boss’ orders.” You went back to work and finished the rest of the day on a good note. Grace invited you out for drinks after work. You almost agreed to go, but decided against it.

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The first two abandoned warehouses were empty. Sam and Dean were making their way around town, checking out each place on their list. The next one was the djinn’s original place, though. Sam became restless and anxious, fidgeting with his shirt, tapping his fingers on the inside of the Impala’s door. Dean kept his focus on the road. It wasn’t a long drive to this warehouse. It was located in the downtown area of the city, surrounded by other dingy looking buildings. The air was cool and the moon shone bright in the sky, just like last time. Sam took in a sharp breath of air as they approached the warehouse. He became visibly nervous as they began walking to the door. Memories of finding you here, hanging lifeless by your hands from ropes tied to the rafters, your skin ashy white and your head hanging limp, flooded Sam’s mind.

“Dude, what is up with you tonight? Are you sure you’re up for this?” Dean questioned.

“I- yeah, I just have a weird feeling about this place,” Sam answered as they pushed the creaky door open and stepped inside.

Their eyes took a minute to adjust, the moonlit sky outside a sharp contrast to the darkness inside. They got out their flashlights and began their search. The floorboards creaked and protested underneath their feet, the sounds of mice scurrying in the dark could be heard. Moonlight peered through brief holes in the wall, showing how much dust and decay was drifting down from the ceiling. Sam came upon the hall that led to the room where he found you last. He paused, took a deep breath, and started towards the door. He slowly and hesitantly pushed it open while holding a gun in one hand.

“Dean come here!” Sam shouted. Dean sprinted at the sound of Sam’s alarmed voice.

Catherine was there. She looked just like you did when he found you. Sam quickly ran over to cut her down. Dean looked around the room, watching for the djinn. He spotted a wall littered with papers and pictures that looked much newer than the building they were in. Dean went closer to inspect the collage.

“Sam, come here. This is weird.”

Sam was already calling 911. He finished the call and gently laid Catherine down. He walked over to where Dean was standing. Pictures of all the women who had been abducted were taped haphazardly to the wall. Tidbits of scribbled information were scattered in spaces between the photos. And then Sam saw it. Circled and placed directly in the center. Your address.

“Dean, we need to go. Now.”

Almost as if on cue, sirens could be heard in the distance. Thankfully the ambulances responded unusually quickly this time.

“Ok, just stay here with the girl while I go out to the paramedics. We’ll go as soon as they take her,” Dean said, puzzled by Sam’s reaction. He could tell Sam was being serious, though, and he trusted his brother’s instincts.

Dean showed his badge to the EMTs and explained that they were FBI agents working on the kidnapping case. He told them they had to leave because the suspect was on the loose. He showed them to the room where Sam was kneeling down beside Catherine, making sure she was ok. As soon as the paramedics reached her, Sam got up and bolted straight through the door, his eyes staring only straight ahead. Dean ran after him and they got into the car.

“We need to to that address right now. And fast,” Sam said while gripping the inside of the Impala, his knuckles turning white.

Starting up the engine, Dean said, “Ok, can you just tell me what’s going on? I’ve never seen you leave a victim that fast.”

“I’ll explain later. Just drive.”

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Part of you wished you had gone with Grace and some other coworkers to the bar, but you weren’t really sure about making friends with them. And you had a few things to do around the house. And a new episode of your favorite show was on tonight. Maybe those were excuses for not wanting to be social, maybe they were legitimate reasons, but, whatever they were, for now you were content to stay at home. Long hours at the office, constantly talking on the phone and discussing work, drained you anyway. Once you were home, you changed into a comfortable pair of jeans and a t-shirt and began to check items off your to-do list. Clean out old leftovers: check. Take the trash out to the curb: Check. Go through the mail and file away anything important: Check.

You threw a frozen pizza into the oven and grabbed a wine glass out of cabinet. Super classy, you thought, grocery store wine and a frozen pizza. But you enjoyed it. You had finished your housework just in time to watch your show. Pouring the wine, you looked out the window above your counter. You had some doubts about your life lately. You wondered if all the stability you had built up around yourself was just a facade. You felt an uneasiness in your stomach as you thought that, at any moment, it could all come crashing down. What if… You shook your head, trying to snap yourself out of this endless waterfall of thoughts. You sat on the couch again to watch your show, kicking off your shoes. During a commercial break, you checked on dinner. Not ready yet. Your show came back on, so you left the kitchen. You sat there, content for the time being although your stomach was nagging you for dinner.

Then you heard it. A noise. Was it the tv? No, it sounded too close. You paused the show, freezing, your hand suspended in mid-air holding the remote, hairs standing up on your neck, muscles tensed.

Silence.

You heard it again, like someone trying to jimmy open a window. You set the remote on the couch and slowly tiptoed to your room at the end of the dark hall, past the bathroom where you could clearly hear someone trying to open the window. The alarm. You forgot to set it for the night. Crap. Your cell phone. Sitting on the couch. You opened the closet door and reached up to the shelf, grabbing your gun. You soundlessly slipped the clip in.

No. No. No. No. No. NO. This- can’t be- happening- again. Your thoughts in rhythm with your breaths. Pull yourself together. Sweat was on your palms, adrenaline in your veins. Your beating heart was like a drum in your head, thumping like an ominous drum roll working up to the crescendo of an attacker. Clink. The now useless lock on the bathroom window hit the tile. Two footsteps hit the floor. Creaking. The bathroom door slowly swung open. You closed your eyes, taking deep breaths. Just like you practiced. Just like you practiced. The gun was steadied. Hand on the trigger. You opened your eyes. Two glowing blue orbs danced down the hall towards you. A smile slowly revealed in the moonlight through a window gave way to the full image of him.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

No hesitation. Your aim was true. Three bullets hit him right where they should. Except…What? No! How is that possible? It didn’t phase him. He continued his advance.

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The Impala squealed to a stop outside of your house.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

Dean and Sam’s heads jerked towards the house then towards each other. They flew out of the car, sprinting to your door. Dean wasted no time in kicking it open. Knives in hand, they scanned your living room. Crash. Was that glass? “Y/N!” Sam yelled out. Dean had no time to question how Sam knew your name. They were already down the hall. They stopped. Their eyes followed the scene through the doorway. You were fighting.

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You fell backwards into a mirror, shattering it. 

No. This wasn’t going to be it. Did someone call your name? 

The man was closing in on you again. You pushed yourself off the wall. 

You were ending this. Somehow. 

You threw a punch. 

Surprise, jerk. 

The monster wiped blood off his nose, shocked but amused. Your martial arts training kicked in. You blocked his hits. 

Yeah. Gotta get in another hit. Ah! 

You drew in air as your foot stepped on a piece of broken glass. A distraction. 

Wham. 

Your back slammed into the wall again, then your head. 

What the…

Your eyes opened barely enough to see your attacker thump to the ground lifeless, a tall figure looming over him. 

“Y/N!” 

Yeah... someone had definitely called your name…

Darkness.

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Sam carried you out of the room and laid you on the couch, checking you for any serious cuts.

“Dean, find some bandages or something. Her foot is cut,” Sam ordered.

There would be time for questions soon. Dean rummaged through your kitchen drawers. Having no luck, he headed to the bathroom next. Success. He handed the bandages and some hydrogen peroxide to Sam. Sam began to clean your wound and bandage it. He propped your foot up on a couple pillows to help slow the bleeding. He released a stream of air through rounded lips. You were ok.

“What is that smell…” Dean said as him and Sam glanced around the house. Smoke was hazing in from the kitchen. Sam ran into the room. The oven was on and inside was your burnt pizza. Sam quickly turned the oven off and took out the blackened food, coughing and waving smoke from his face. He went back into the living room, stoic, but tensed.

“She was cooking a pizza,” Sam said, unconcerned about the charred food, fully fixated on you.

Dean nodded and then began to question Sam. Enough was enough. “Sam, do you mind telling me what’s going on here? You know this girl?”

Sam relaxed his shoulders and looked up at Dean, “Yeah, I do.”

“Ok…do you mind enlightening me on how exactly you know her?”

“I…She was one of the women from the last case. I found her in the warehouse, just like Catherine.”

“And you didn’t tell me this because…?”

“I was trying to protect her. I didn’t want to drag her back into this mess.”

Dean didn’t say what he was thinking. Sam already knew it. The look was plastered on his face. This could have been prevented if Sam came to protect you sooner.

You moaned. Sam rushed to your side. Dean watched closely, analyzing his brother’s actions as he got onto his knees so he could be closer to your eye level.

“Sam…I don’t, I don’t understand…why…what…who is that?” Your vision was adjusting, your head pounded. Everything was confusing.

“This is my brother, Dean,” Sam said as he stroked hair out of your face, “We were tracking the djinn. He- it was hunting you. We got here just in time.”

“You know, I had it handled,” you joked, smiling playfully as you became oriented again.

Sam’s head bowed as he grinned. He didn’t know you could be so sarcastic, but he liked it. Oh, how you had missed his smile.

Dean observed you two, noticing how Sam was attentive to your every word, how he never broke gaze with you. He saw how you relaxed in his presence, how you talked to him as if you had known him your entire life. Dean’s stomach dropped. This was going to be a hard case to leave. Better not prolong the inevitable then.

Sam was reassuring you, “You’re safe now, ok? He’s not coming-”

Dean cleared his throat. “I hate to break up this reunion, but Sam, it’s late and we should get back to the motel to pack up.”

Sam’s smile faded, his hands dropped. He stood up.

“You’re going to be ok. Your foot should-” he began.

“Wait, what? You guys are just going to up and leave after all of this?” you demanded to know, looking from Dean to Sam. You had gained full consciousness again and, in that moment, something inside of you was resurrected, a drive, a push. You hadn’t felt this spark since before your mom died. You had become content, placid, stagnant. You suddenly were sick of it. You didn’t understand everything that had happened, you barely knew these people standing in your living room, but there was absolutely no way you were letting them waltz out of your life without a decent explanation. And Sam, you knew something was there between the two of you. What it was, what it could’ve been, you didn’t know. But you were determined to make something out of it now. You had a second chance.

Sam looked at his feet, “It’s better if we don’t stick around…”

“Bull. You can’t just storm in here, kill a man, a monster, whatever it is, and then leave me like nothing happened. I want an explanation!” You were almost shouting. Dean raised his eyebrows, impressed at your audacity.

“Well, what would you like to know then, sweetheart?” he said, trying not to grin.

You should’ve thought this through. What would you ask first? Questions swam in your head.

“I want to know if…if you guys would like to go out to eat?” You had no idea what compelled you to say that, but you rolled with it. You were feeling a bit reckless after tonight’s brawl and your emotions were in flux because of Sam.

“You what?” Sam asked, pleasantly surprised.

“You heard me.”

Dean tried to argue, “Look, we can talk here right now-”

“No,” you interrupted, “I’m starving. I’ve been through a lot. I’m sure you guys need something to eat too. Besides, I don’t think my pizza is any good anymore.” You signaled towards the kitchen.

Sam smirked, Dean rolled his eyes, but relented.

“Fine,” he huffed, “Dinner and then we’re done. But I’m picking the place.”

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“So, why didn’t my bullets stop this thing?” you said, looking at Sam with a mouth full of food.

“Djinn have to be killed in a particular way. Most creatures do. For a djinn, it’s a knife dipped in lamb’s blood,” Sam explained

“So I really didn’t have it handled back there?” You laughed, attempting to muffle the thought that you might not have actually made it out of alive.

“Well, you were doing pretty good,” Sam encouraged you, noticing the slight falter in your tone, “I didn’t know you could fight.”

“I learned how to, after, you know, everything that happened.”

Sam’s face softened with sadness, his eyes looking at you with sincere concern, but he and Dean were both taken with your determination.

“So, any more questions?” Dean asked you, eager to get on the road and put this all behind him and Sammy. It was probably going to be even harder for him to leave you now.

“I think that’s all. Thanks for sticking around,” you smiled although you knew this all was about to end. Sam was about to leave your life again.

Dean took one last drink and set his cup on the table then slid out of the booth. Sam followed. You stood up, facing them, not sure what to do next.

“Well, kiddo, stay safe. Although I’m sure if anyone tries anything, you’ll know how to handle it,” Dean said to you. You smiled in return, nodding in agreement.

You turned to Sam. What could possibly be said now, in this moment? He took you by surprise and wrapped his arms around you. You tensed up at first, but relaxed into his impromptu embrace. You rested your head on his chest. He was so much taller than you. You hadn’t realized it until now. He kissed the top of your head lightly.

“Stay safe, ok?”

“I will.”

His arms slowly fell to his sides, brushing along yours as they lowered. The two brothers walked away. You stood there and watched them leave, you were watching Sam walk out of your life again, just like the last time. You felt more like a spectator than a participant. But now you were being torn in all directions, you felt a pounding inside your chest, your brain and heart at war. What was here for you? A job you hated. Acquaintances you never went out with. A lonely, achingly silent house.

You bolted out the door, just in time to see Sam pulling his legs into the Impala, “Wait!”

He paused then got out of the car. Dean turned to look at you then followed Sam’s lead. You ran, stopping by the door.

“Take me with you.”

Sam’s face twisted in heartache, confusion, and hopefulness.

“Whoah, whoah whoah,” Dean protested, “Not gonna happen.”

You felt like the air had just been sucked from your lungs. This had been a big, embarrassing mistake.

“Why- why not?” Your voice was small and weak now.

“Because this life isn’t pretty. You don’t know the first thing about what it takes to do what we do,” Dean answered. His tone showed no mercy.

“Then show me, teach me. I’m a fast learner. You saw me back there, I can fight.”

“It takes a lot more than that.”

You turned to Sam now.

“Y/N, this isn’t the kind of life you want. It’s dangerous. It’s hard. Just…go back to your house, to your family, your friends. It’s better that way,” Sam answered.

You began to let tears fall down your face. “No!” you were shouting now, “My life is- it’s nothing right now! I hate my job, I don’t have friends, my family moved away. I don’t do anything! You know, my life felt apart after you left, Sam. I was crippled by my memories of that monster. The only thing that got me through was imagining it dead. And remembering you. You know, I think about the last time I saw you all the time. And now I’m here and the monster’s dead and your back in my life and I…and I…” You were sobbing now, the weight of the night’s events and the uncertainty of the future weighing on you.

Then you felt Sam’s warm embrace again. You cried into his shirt.

“Please don’t go…”

Sam turned his head to look at Dean. Dean was unrelenting.

“Dean…”

“Don’t even suggest it, Sam. We know this is for the best.”

You spoke up again, taking your face out of Sam’s shirt, “Look, I- I’m not asking for some permanent place in your life, but I need to get out of here. You said there’s monsters out there everywhere, right? Well why can’t I help fight them too? I want to stop them from doing to other people what they did to me. If it doesn’t work out, then fine. I just, I need a chance.”

Dean, noticing Sam’s resolve crumbling away, said, "Sam, you can't possibly be thinking this is ok."

"I don't know, Dean. You saw her back at her house. She can handle herself. Maybe it won't work out, but..."

"You have to try." Dean understood what Sam meant, he understood his need for something other than this life. Dean was divided. He wanted his brother to be happy, but he knew it would probably end badly just like it had in the past. But Dean sort of liked you, too. You were funny, tough, honest. You had potential. Besides, any girl who could eat as much as he could could hang with him any day. So, for Sam, he took a chance.

"Look, I'm not promising some permanent living arrangement here, but if you want a taste of hunting, you can have it."

You felt a warm elation spread throughout your body and a sense of thrill flutter in your stomach. Finally, for the first time since your mother died, since your world was turned upside down for a second time, you felt like you were going somewhere. Sam and you looked into each other's eyes, grinning wildly and you let a giggle escape your lips. What would happen in these next few weeks, you didn't know. Hunting would be the most difficult thing you’ve ever done, but you knew you had a chance for a different life. A life with purpose. A life with Sam.

#sam winchester angst #sam winchester fluff #sam winchester oneshot #supernatural fanfiction