#give the bastard's box another shake to see if he maybe grows as a person- oh nope nvm

[foe-paw]

I CAN FIX ANYTHING!

#starkid #hatchetfield #team starkid #ted spankoffski #time bastard #nightmare time #foe art #tbh i am completely aligned with tinky when it comes to ted spankoffski #put that guy in Situations! #see him run! see him jump! see him make the same mistakes or new exciting mistakes! #like honestly. 'the girl i liked moved out before i had the chance to confess so i'll be more confident' is a perfectly fine lesson #for a college-age youngun smdjksjdskjd #then after the first fifteen times he creeped someone out you'd expect him to learn Another lesson! skdjskdjskjdskdj #not this guy tho. refuses to learn anything! #give the bastard's box another shake to see if he maybe grows as a person- oh nope nvm #he had a heel realization in TGWDLM and failed to learn anything from that one too! smdsmdmksjdsjdksmd #stubborn as a goat is ted spankoffski! #fascinating!

[mha-princess]

Let’s Play Ball

[Bakugou x Fem! Reader]

Masterlist | Request Rules | Request Box

Genre: 18+ | College AU | Oneshot | crack

A/N: before you all ask yes Bakugousquad has to be friends in all of my fanfics i litterally can not help it also I am very upset that I’ve been slacking on writing but I still hope you enjoy ⁍̴̆◡⁍̴̆ )⊃♡- Anako

Warnings: unprotected sex, breeding, explicit language

Word Count: 2.2k

Summary: a bakugou x reader college au where katsuki is new to the school and the football team, and he develops a little crush on his football captains sister. Who is definitely OFF limits.

“I just don't know where we can find another quarterback before the playoff game! Kaminari you idiot!” Akawa cursed, throwing a pillow at the injured male.

“Hey man, if you wouldn’t of overworked me at practice we wouldn’t be in this predicament. Kaminari said sending the pillow right back at your brother, who catches it easily.

“Plus I told you Kirishima has a friend who's transferring here soon. matter of fact he'll be here monday so you don't need to worry, I promise he's good enough to take my place for now .”

“He's good enough to take your place, but is he good enough to take us to the championships.’ Akawa beckons, you roll your eyes at their bickering.

“Football this and football that. Stop worrying so much It's not that serious.” Akawa and Kaminari scoff at you in unison.

“We’re going to bring this college a trophy. Its my duty as captain to make sure of it.” Akawa brings fist to his chest as if he were swearing to an oath and Kaminari follows in the same motion.

“Both of you. Leave. “ You shake your head as you open the front door. Kaminari reaches for his crutches as your brother grabs their bags.

“Don't you feel bad kicking out a cripple?” Kaminari questions, limping past you.

“Yeah! Don't you also feel bad kicking me out too!? I’m your brother!” Your sigh and shove them out the door.

“I know I tried to get away from you, but out of all the scholarship offers you had you decided to pick the college I wanted to go.” Your bother stops in the doorway.

“You know I have to keep an eye on my little sister. I gotta protect you from these racid guys.” Kaminari laughs at your brother’s teasing as you force him out of the doorway.

“Goodnight.” You say, slamming the door in their faces.

─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────

“Now class I know this isn’t a high school course, but we have a new student today and I would all like for you to greet him formally and treat him with the same respect you give your peers.” Your administrator announces.

You elbow Kaminari, “She talking about Kirishima’s friend, right?”

Kaminari shrugs, eyes glued to his phone screen. You then snatch his phone from his hands.

“Y/N! There was only nine people left.” He whines reaching for his phone. You hold the phone far out of his reach.

“You know if your brother wasn’t a psycho I would’ve been accused you of liking me. Seeing how much you pick on me.” Your mouth drops in offense.

“Me ? Like you? Could never.” You roll your eyes giving him his phone back and before he can express how you had just hurt his feelings the door to your classroom opens.

“Ah, Mr. Bakugou, it’s nice to have a transfer from such a prestigious school.” Your administrator walks over and firmly shakes the boys hand.

You take a moment to take in the the male’s appearance. His uniform is disheveled, his ash blonde hair is unruly, his bangs are choppy, and his shirt is unbuttoned revealing his collar bones. He didn’t look like he was from a prestigious school. But even though his presentation could use some work his overall appearance wasn’t bad, he was clearly the athletic type.

“There’s a vacant seat next to Mrs. Y/N, so if you would seat yourself so I could get started.” The administrator gestures to the desk and the boy takes his seat.

After that the rest of the class went by as usual. Kaminari asked stupid questions and you struggled to stay awake during the lecture. Once the professor dismissed you all, you pack quickly up, but your stay was prolonged due to the injured Kaminari.

“Welp off to sit on the bench at practice.” Kaminari sighs grabbing his crutches. You try not to laugh, grabbing his backpack.

“I can take it.” Your turn to see that Bakugou hadn’t left, “I don’t know where the field is anyway.” You and Kaminari turn to eachother, but say nothing.

“I got something on my face or something? The hell you too lookin’ like that for?” You snap out of your confusion.

“Nothing it’s just your nothing like how Ejiro described.” You say letting him take Kaminari’s bag.

“Huh? What did that bastard say about me?” The blonde questions.

“He said your an ass-.”Kaminari starts, but you cut off his oxygen with a quick punch to the chest.

“He said your an amazing person.” Bakugou scoffs.

“Whatever, just show me where the field is.”

─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────

“It’s so hot out here.” Kaminari whines from the bench.

“Maybe it’s because your not playing.” Kirishima teases sitting on the turf, poking at the cast around Kaminari’s injured ankle.

Bakugou and Akawa approach taking a seat next to Kirishima.

“Well look who it is! My replacement!” Kaminari exclaims with fake enthusiasm.

“More like permanent replacement.” Bakugou sneers as he watches Kaminari’s face fill with panic.

“Akawa, you bastard! You gave my spot away?!” The yellow haired boy yells in a questioning manner, throwing a crutch at the captain.

“Easy! For now your still our primary quarterback! But if Bakugou wants to challenge you for your spot, I’ll allow it.” Kaminari picks up another crutch, but Akawa is too fast and darts down the field before he can throw it.

“You’ve been here one day and I’m already getting booted.” Kaminari sighs.

“I’m an asshole, but not that big of an asshole. I’d just wait to take your spot next year. It’s almost the end of the season anyway.” Bakugou responds shrugging.

Kaminari raises a crutch but Kirishima stops him, “It’s too hot to be beat to death by a man with a broken ankle don’t you think?”

Kaminari huffs, sliding down the bench.

“I have so much homework. I shouldn’t be here.” The yellow haired boy groaned at the thought of having to use his brain.

“Just get Y/N to help you after practice.” Kirishima says, taking a sip of water.

“Y/N definitely tired of me. She’s been carrying my stuff all day I’d rather not bother her anymore.”

“Who the hell is Y/N?” Bakugou questions, taking the water bottle away from Kirishima and finishing the remaining amount of liquid.

“Y/N? You took my bags from her earlier.” Bakugou nods in understanding. “She was hot.”

Kirishima and Kaminari turn to eachother, an all too fearful glint in their eyes.

“What are you fucks looking like that for?” Bakugou furrows his brows.

“Bro Y/N is like the most hands off girl in this school. Akawa will kill you and us for even talking about his sister like that. As long as Akawa’s her brother your not getting even a little close.” Kirishima explains.

“Plus we wouldn’t let you use her like that.” Bakugou glares at Kaminari.

“You fucking dunce, I might be an asshole, but I wouldn’t use a girl like that. She’d be my girlfriend before I ever tried anything.”

“That’s nice to her coming from you that is .” Kirishima sighs in relief. Bakugou raises his hand to hit Kirishima but he maneuvers out of the way.

“Seriously man its good that you think that way! But good luck getting past Akawa, your gonna need it.”

─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────

To be frank, he didn’t need it. Well no let me rephrase you too just hadn’t got caught. After that day at the field Bakugou began to grow more talkative and more open. After a month he was no longer that transfer student, he was your friend.

After few more he was your boyfriend and suprisingly Akawa remained unaware. It’s was hard but you had to admit it was fun. From sneaking kisses in during and between classes to you occasionally stealing him and taking him back to your dorm for some alone time.

But to be honest it’s was growing tiring. Eventhough the adrenaline of being caught was a nice rush, but the more serious you and Bakugou grew the more you both wanted the world to know that you were together.

“But Katsuki the problem isn’t I don’t want to tell him! It’s that I can’t tell him, do you not know how mad Akawa will be at me?

“Well we can’t be a damn secret forever. So I think it’s in your best interest to tell him. Or I will.” Katsuki threatens, as he lay lazily on his back sprawled out in your bed eyes glued to his phone screen.

“Katsuki!” You pout grabbing hold of his arm, not feeling shocked when he pulls away.

“Katsukiiiii.” You whine throwing a leg over his body to straddle his waist. He doesn’t acknowledge you, rather he just keeps looking at his phone.

Feeling aggravated with his silence you lean down and press a kiss in between his neck and his shoulder blade. He pays you no mind. You then let your hand travel down his chest and to the waist band of his pants, causing him to briefly look away from his phone.

“Don’t.” You take your lip in between your teeth.

“You know that’s only makes me want to do it more.” You say letting fingers enter the waistband.

Slowly, you let your fingers trail over his pelvis. He tenses up but still continues to pay you no attention. As your fingers slide down further you take his length into your hand.

“Katsuki.” You whisper in his ear.

“Dammit Y/N stop it.” His breath hitched as you began stroking up and down his shaft. “Your not getting out of this.”

“Mhm.” You respond continuing to trail kisses all down his neck and to his chest, stopping when you reach his underwear.

“Katsukiiii.” You tease. Finally he adverts his attention to you. “Can I?”

He says nothing, instead he lifts up his hips so you can pull his pants down.

“I knew you wouldn’t say no.”

“Shut the hell up.” He mumbles, finally discarding his phone to watch you.

Your mouth falls open has you take his erect member into your mouth taking him as far into your cavern as possible, and taking what you couldn’t throat into your hands.

Bakugou exhales deeply as you swirl your tongue around his firmness. You moan around the thick cock filling your mouth. You could taste the salty taste of precum leak on to your tongue as you continue to bob your head and twist your wrist . A river of saliva beginning to pool over your hand.

Soon enough Bakugou is no longer composed. His hands find there way to your hair as he begins to buck his hips in a sharp motion.

“I-I’m gonna f-fuck.” He groans, not giving your throat a rest as he continues to fuck your mouth. Moaning against his cock only encouraged, him to thrust harder. Your hand eventually lost its purpose as his cock was buried deep in your throat, causing you to gag relentlessly.

Your eyes fluttered up to his face, which was tense from his upcoming release. His lips parted slightly as he let his cum pour down your throat.

Slowly, you let the blondes cock fall from your mouth, a line of spit dribbling down your chin.

“Shit Katsuki, your still hard.” You say eyeing the males hard on as you slip off your pants and underwear.

“I wanna ride it.” You move back up to straddle his waist, your pussy aching from arousal of the blowjob you had just given. Desperately you take two fingers and rub them against your dripping cunt.

“Then fucking ride.” Bakugou groans at your actions, unable to deny you. You smirk as you take hold of his length and position it at your entrance. Cautiously, you let him fill your insides. His cock dragging so good against your walls.

“Shit Katsuki.” You moan, placing your hands on his chest for more stability. He sighs as you begin to rock back and forth on his cock. The rocking eventually turning into steady bouncing, Katsuki’s hands finding your hips.

“You fuck me, so good.” He grunts, allowing his hips to fall into rhythm with your bouncing. The lewd sound of slapping and simultaneous moans fill the atmosphere. A familiar warmth building in the pit of stomach.

“I’m g-gonna cum on your c-cock.” You feel him twitch against our walls as his grip on your hips tighten. His hips thrusting up erratically, chasing his own release. The sudden change in speed hitting something deep inside of you.

“R-right there Katsuki. Right there. Feels so good.” You whimper, losing all rythmn as he hits that spot deep inside you. After a few more moments of abusing you pussy, you cum your walls clamping tightly around his cock.

“If you don’t move I’ll cum inside.” He groans, but doesn’t stop. You slump over on his chest as he continues to fuck you into overstimulation.

“Fuck, cum inside.” You breathe heavily against his ear. Your boyfriend’s cock twitches desperately inside you as he nears his release. You let your teeth sink into his shoulder as he pumps his load into your pussy.

After coming down from your high you roll off of Katsuki and pull the covers over you both.

“I’m going to tell him, just give me a bit more time ok.” You say, resting your head in the crook of his neck. Bakugou then runs his hands through your hair and presses a kiss to your forehead.

“I was just being an ass, take your time. I’m fine with waiting to be with someone I love.”

#bakugou x reader #boku no hero academia #bakugou oneshot #bnha #mha princess #shoujo #bakugou drabble #bakugou headcanons #bakugou katsuki #ejiro kirishima #denki kaminari #bakugou smut #bnha imagines #bakugou #bakugou x y/n #bakugou fluff #fluff

[chokemeanakin]

I dont know if you are taking requests but if you are, could you please write something where reader has trouble masturbating, every time she tries she just CANT, so anakin (theyre just friends but they always had lots of sexual tension) helps her out and does it for her so she cums for the first time. THANK YOU!!!

A Dream Come True - Anakin Skywalker x fem Reader (smut)

Masterlist

Read it on ao3

Wc: 5.4k

A low warmth is rising in your belly, pulled from the depths by your wandering fingers. They’re working against your clit, rubbing it side to side, faster and hard, trying so desperately to remain in that warm haze of pleasure you’ve spent so long building up. It feels good, but you need more. 

The many late nights spent with your girlfriends cross your mind, and how you would sit by idly during each one as they discussed their own personal affairs in the bedroom. You were the least experienced, but listened in awe as they told you the latest on what their partners have done to surprise them in bed. How they made them scream and shake, their eyes roll back into their head, and cum all over until they couldn’t take anymore.

You were too embarrassed to admit you’d never felt that way before. You thought you were broken.

Which is why you’re here, fingers glued to your hard nub, rubbing furiously to try and get yourself to feel something. You do feel something, but it’s not earth-shattering, leg-shaking, eye-rolling like your friends had described. Frustration fuels your movements as you attack your clit, holding your breath, forcing the warmth to build and build and build--

Nothing.

Your arm aches with the strain as you halt your movements, chest heaving when you allow yourself to breathe. Self-pity outweighs your disappointment as the subtle warmth dissipates, any pleasure that you had given yourself slipping away. 

Broken, a small voice whispers inside your head. There’s something wrong with you.

What other reasoning could there be to explain why you can’t feel good? 

Maybe, you argue, there needs to be something inside. That was always a big topic of discussion with your friends, how they “loved being filled.” Gathering your wits, you move your finger down, exploring your folds until you find your opening. Squeezing your eyes shut, you push a finger in, wincing at the sudden intrusion. 

It stings more than anything, but you’re desperate so you decide to give it a chance. You’ve tried this before, and it’s never felt like anything more than a finger inside of you-- which is exactly what it is. And now, this situation proves to be the same. You feel around, hoping to find that spot everyone raves about, but your fingers are too short and the angle is weird. You push your finger in and out like how you think you’re supposed to, and it feels like nothing.

Maybe you need two?

You let another finger join the one that’s already inside, struggling to get it in. 

Ow, you wince as your body rejects the intrusion. Your heartbeat picks up, a sudden anxiety joining the whirlwind of exasperation and discontent that has come from this situation. Is it supposed to hurt this much? The remnants of the need to satisfy yourself are still present, so you try again.

Making it back to your apartment had been a relief this evening, as all day you had been battling a relentless urge down below. You’re not too proud to admit that your… situation… had been a direct result of spending the day with Anakin, a good friend of yours who needed help finding a data entry in the corner of the Temple library. The entry supposedly had something to do with a cloaking mechanism for battleships, and when you had asked why he needed it when the Republic already had cloaking mechanisms, he mentioned that he was trying to translate the same technique to his own personal starship. No battlecraft as small as his has that ability, and with a ship as fast as his, it would give him a huge advantage on the battlefield. 

You could listen to him talk about it all day.

You virtually had, as the data entry was just one small piece of paper-- a piece of scrap blueprint scrawled on a fragile, worried edge of some larger text, worn with time. You spent hours searching all over for it. Once you had finally dug it out of a dusty box in the deepest corner of the library, Anakin had lifted you into the air effortlessly, swinging you around as he hugged you and laughed.

You had walked home with a damp spot in your underwear, an undeniable throb that needed to be relieved. 

He had no idea. No idea that his hands shot sparks up your spine as they closed around your waist. That his laugh turned your blood to lava, and his beautiful, smiling face made your heart skip a beat. He had no idea that he is the cause of your desperation, the reason you are torturing yourself by dangling an unknown pleasure before your face, knowing you can’t have it. 

You manage to sink your second finger in a little, but the sting is too much, and you have to pull them both out.

Broken.

The door to your apartment suddenly swings open, and you throw your sheets over your bare legs in a panic. Your eyes find the clock next to your bed-- Shit. You’d lost track of the time. 

The sound of those boots are unmistakable, and you find that praying you’re wrong is pointless when he calls out your name. 

“Y/n--?” Anakin rounds the corner to peer into your room, features lighting up when he finally finds you. Curious eyes roam over your figure, wondering why you’re in bed when it was barely evening. “Are you feeling okay?”

Your cheeks flame with heat, and you can’t find the words to explain yourself out of this situation. Mentally, you’re beating yourself up for losing track of time, especially since you knew Anakin was coming over tonight. While searching for the data log, you mentioned you had always wanted to try his favorite childhood drink-- ruby bliels-- and he promised he’d treat you tonight after you found the blueprint. It was his thank you gift to you, but now you needed to find a way to get him out of your apartment before he realized what was going on.

Your mouth hangs open like a gaping fish, and you know it’s too late. Anakin’s brain is as fast as his superhuman reflexes, and you can see the gears click into place as his eyes flit from your red cheeks, to the messy covers strewn over your legs, to the crumpled panties lying discarded on the floor. Your hand is even still frozen between your legs, your activities becoming clear as he senses the remnants of pleasure and disappointment still hanging around the room. 

“Oh…” is all he says, looking lost for a moment. You expect him to apologize and turn away, run out of the apartment and then never speak to you again. You wouldn’t blame him. Finding a friend in this position can never be a comfortable experience.

Instead a slow smirk crawls onto his face, and he leans against the doorframe, arms crossed. “You need some help with that?”

You should have known. The smug little bastard-- of course he’d find this amusing. Your face grows impossibly redder, and you wish a black hole would just open beneath you already and swallow you up. Anakin finds your humiliation endearing, and laughs good-naturedly. 

“Alright, okay, I’m sorry. I’ll leave you to it,” he slinks out of the doorway, crooking his finger in the air to close the door after him. “I’ll be in the kitchen setting up for the bliels when you’re done--”

“Wait!”

You’re just as shocked as he is at the words that leave your mouth. He freezes in place, the door still open a crack. There’s too many thoughts running through your head right now, but the one that stands out the most has you pulling your hand away from your center, sitting up in bed so you can address him clearly. 

You never thought you’d be able to speak these words to him. For so long, you had wanted him in every way possible. But he’s a Jedi, unable to form attachments, and more than that-- a friend. A very good friend. And breaching the topic that you know you both feel for each other had the potential to ruin it all. 

But the minute he had opened that door, still dressed in that black leather armor, hair perfectly curled and messy, so tall and strong and devilishly handsome leaning against your doorframe-- he was beautiful, and you’d be a fool not to take advantage of his offering. Even if it might have been a joke. 

You had a sneaking suspicion it wasn’t. 

“I… I do need help.”

There. You said it. And you’re pretty certain the only reason you could force the words past your lips is because his back is still facing you. But then he opens the door again, turns to meet your eyes, and cocks his head.

“Really?”

You’re not sure how to feel about the concern on his face. You guess it’s better than him being disgusted, or awkward, or uncomfortable. And it’s not an outright rejection. That realization gives you the push you need to explain yourself.

“I think there’s something wrong with me.”

Now he looks concerned. Walking a few steps into the room, he stops by the edge of your bed and folds his arms across his chest. He’s studying every inch of you, reaching into the force to try and gauge the nature of your words. “What do you mean?”

He’s standing so close now, you can see the blue of his eyes and the wrinkle between his furrowed brows. It does nothing to calm your sizzling nerves. However, you’re concrete on your desires now. While you would have liked to confess your feelings for him in a more… romantic way, the intensity of your need for him in this very moment overshadows rational thought. Besides, it’s not like this is a declaration of love. That could always come later. For right now, you need his help, and you’re certain that you can trust him not to make fun of you or shame you for trying in if he declines.

“I can’t…” you take a deep breath, staring at your hands in your lap. “I can’t make myself feel good.”

Your voice is so quiet, embarrassed and ashamed, but he catches the yearning under it all. His face smooths, comforted by the fact that you’re not injured or dying in some way. Deep down, something sparks alive in his veins. 

That’s the issue? Well… it’s definitely something he can help you with.

“Hmm.” His face is thoughtful as he scans your position. His hand gestures vaguely down your body. “Do you want to show me what you’re doing?”

Your blood freezes at his request. For some reason, it didn’t cross your mind how asking for his help would require him to see you… naked. 

“If you’re too embarrassed, we can just--”

You cut off his words by throwing the blanket off. There, like ripping off a bandaid. His eyes drink in the exposed skin of your legs, and although they’re closed and he can’t be seeing much more than he’s already seen before, they darken. A small twitch of his fingers, and the door clicks shut behind him. 

He takes a seat on the side of the bed, next to your legs, and rests his metal hand on your knee. Your heart beats like a hummingbird's wings at the sudden proximity, and the nerves pile up again at the thought of what’s going to happen.

“Wait-- um… actually, can you come here?” 

You reach out to take his metal hand from your knee, and pull him up the bed so that he’s hovering over you. He’s still sitting, the upper half of his body twisted toward you, caging you in with a hand on either side of you. He’s smiling softly, and his eyes twinkle with something fond.

He doesn’t need to ask to know that you’re nervous. The rigidity in your muscles, the flightyness of your eyes, the hammer of your heart-- he can feel it all, and he wants nothing more than to quell your fears. So he lifts an arm to cup your face in his large hand, smoothing a thumb over your cheekbone in a silent request for you to look at him.

Once you muster up the courage to meet his eyes, his smile grows, and he says something that steals your breath.

“Can I kiss you?”

Oh, how long you’ve wanted him to say those words to you. Countless nights, you’d run them through your head, imagining all the scenarios in which it could happen. Certainly, this was not one of them, but you definitely aren’t going to complain.

You don’t trust yourself to speak, so you give him a nod, and lean forward a fraction in invitation. Your veins sing with anticipation, warmth spreading from your cheeks to every small nook and cranny of your body as he angles your face up toward his. Your eyes flutter close, and he leans down, and--

Bliss.

His lips are warm against yours, soft, applying the gentlest of pressures. You always thought he’d be a good kisser-- he was experienced, and he’d hinted at some of his more scandalous escapades a couple times in passing conversation. You’d asked him before, how he could do that when Jedi aren’t allowed to form attachments, which resulted in him going into a full lecture on how non-attachment didn’t translate to abstinence being “The Jedi Way”, even if it was supported within the Order. Really, it sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than anything, until he fell on the defensive position that he was almost certain Obi-Wan had done stuff as well.

Which-- great. Now you realized you were less experienced than even two Jedi. 

These thoughts are snuffed out like candles, one by one, as Anakin kisses you. In fact, your whole mind goes blank, a wave washing over all of your worries away and dragging them out to sea. You’re drifting on that wave, drowning in the heady feel of him, the warm taste of him. His slow inhale reminds you to breathe as he moves his lips against yours languidly. It’s heaven, the way he’s yours for just this moment. He might not think anything of this kiss, but to you, it’s like your deepest fantasies are coming true. With each moment that passes where he tilts his head and closes his lips over yours, you can pretend that he is yours, completely and unconditionally.

Eventually he pulls back, eyes fluttering open, and you realize you’re still lost at sea.  

“Good?” his voice is low and raspy as his gaze bores into yours. You wonder if he knows how intense his eyes can be sometimes. 

“Yes.”

He presses another quick kiss to your lips, your heart spasming at the act, before he trails kisses down your jaw, tasting the skin of your neck. Your breath picks up again, hands finding his curls as you gasp at the feeling. His teeth skim over the junction of your neck and shoulder, and he presses a kiss to your throbbing pulse. He means for the kisses to be distracting, soothing, so that you’ll be more comfortable with him, and he thinks it’s working until a faint moan leaves your mouth.

So it’s really working.

Anakin’s eyes flick up to yours, and you can feel the smirk against your skin. Embarrassment crashes down on you again but Anakin repeats the motion, nipping at your skin and then smoothing his tongue over the mark, sucking gently to try to elicit another reaction. You gift him one against your will, and suddenly he’s got lava pouring into his veins.

You’re so lost in the feeling of his mouth on you that you don’t even realize his warm hand has travelled from your face, down the middle of your body, gripping onto the pliant flesh of your thigh and pulling you toward him. You let him, rolling your body into him to try and relieve that reappearing ache in your center. 

It’s the same feeling that had built up all day, and it’s returned with a vengeance. You can feel the wetness seep out, slicking your thighs up. Your clit throbs and your pussy clenches around nothing, begging for something to satisfy the ache. You rub your thighs together to help, but Anakin slides a hand to the inside of your thigh and coaxes your legs apart. Any embarrassment you felt before has been beat out by a yearning for his touch, the need to have his fingers on you, inside you--

“Show me how you’ve been doing it,” Anakin mumbles into your neck.

You open your eyes, pulled up from the haze of pleasure he’d submerged you in. Your hand only shakes slightly as you release his hair and bring it back to your skin. He pulls back a few inches to watch, the heat of his body so close to yours causing goosebumps to erupt all over your body. 

His eyes hone in on your hand, following its descent to your warm center. You still can’t wrap your head around the fact that someone is seeing you like this, but now your veins sing with a satisfied realization that he’s the one seeing you like this. He’s the only one who ever has. And he seems to like what he’s seeing.

You don’t miss the way he inhales, the way his teeth capture a sliver of his bottom lip as your fingers finally reach your heat. You begin to do what you’ve always done-- rub your fingers back and forth over your nub, working that pleasure from it.

It feels good, different than what it felt like when you were alone. You’re sure his eyes on you, the proximity, his mere presence has something to do with that. You can still taste him on your lips and you close your eyes, licking them to relive the kiss. You focus on the warmth of his body, the dip of the bed where his arm is planted beside you, the weight of his other hand still holding your thigh open, the scent of his black leather and spice of his shampoo. It definitely feels better when he’s here, the knowledge of him watching adding to your excitement.

But still, you can only build yourself up to a certain point. The pleasure plateaus, and soon you begin to feel awkward at the fact that nothing is happening. It’s not enough to make you moan, or move, or show any reaction really. Your hand stills, and you look at him uncertainly.

Anakin blinks and brings his eyes back up. “Have you tried fingering yourself?”

You almost choke. You’re not sure why his blunt nature surprises you anymore. 

He’s looking at you curiously, completely serious, waiting for an answer. So you clear your throat and slide your finger down to your entrance, pushing in.

It goes in easier than before, and there’s no sting. But you don’t even have to move to know you’re literally going to get nothing out of it, and trying is useless.

“This is what I’m talking about,” you tell him. “It doesn’t feel like anything. And when I try two, it hurts. I think I’m broken.”

“You’re not broken,” he frowns, smoothing your hair away from your forehead and replacing it with a kiss. Your heart melts at the action that you’re sure is meant to be comforting, but only deepens your adoration of him. He sits up and you immediately miss him, although you understand he needs a better angle as he slides his hand from your thigh to the top of your pelvis. He hesitates, questioning. “Can I?”

You pull your finger out and push yourself up onto your forearms, nodding for him to go ahead. 

His touch is light as a feather as his fingertips make contact with your swollen nub. Your breath hitches in your chest, thighs immediately opening wider on their own accord to get him to increase the pressure. He watches your face as he fulfills your silent request, massaging your clit in slow, gentle circles. 

Fireworks are exploding behind your eyes, and you melt into a puddle on the bed. He’s barely even touching you, and somehow it already feels so much better than anything you’ve done to yourself. Quiet whimpers fall from your lips and the sounds make him need a steadying breath, reminding himself to go slow. Obviously, no one has ever touched you before, and he doesn’t want to do anything that makes you uncomfortable.

The sight of your head tilted back, teeth biting at your lips to quiet your sounds, fingers clutching at the bedsheets-- a very sudden, very real desire to absolutely ruin you slams into him. 

But no. That can come later.

He brings his metal hand up to your face, thumb tracing over your bottom lip and pulling it from your teeth. “You don’t have to be quiet with me,” he tells you, the ministrations on your clit with his other hand never ceasing. Instead, he picks up the pace, increasing the pressure, drinking in the sight of your hips moving against his fingers.

You’re absolutely drenched, dripping down your thighs and puddling onto the bedsheets. You’re not sure you’ve ever been this wet before, or felt this good before, and the warmth you’ve always felt is transforming into a ball of heat in your stomach. You hone into the feeling, the heat pulsing with each pass of his fingers, each wet slide of him against you--

“You have to breathe, Y/n,” Anakin chuckles, slowing his touch. You gasp in a deep breath, whining at the loss of friction, but he appeases you by slipping his fingers from your clit to your entrance. He doesn’t push in-- instead he circles his finger around it, collecting your slick, reading your every response. 

“Please, can you…” you buck your hips up, but he doesn’t allow his finger to slide in until you finish your sentence. “Can you put it in?”

He can’t keep the tiny, darkly satisfied smile off his face. He’s always had fantasies of you like this, squirming beneath him and begging for his touch. He basks in the fulfilled wish of his, drinking in every second so he can remember it for later. Meanwhile, his finger massages your hole, dipping in with just the tip before pulling back out. 

“Fuck,” you hiss, once again surprised at your own reaction. Your head is far past the point of clouding with lust, and now you’re dizzy with pleasure and the need to just have him inside of you already. “Anakin, please.”

“Patience,” he answers teasingly, although he does mean it. You can’t rush these things. And… he does have to admit that he loves seeing you so desperate and messy for him. Your neediness has him strain against his own pants, but he pushes that aside. For now, another dip of his finger into your throbbing pussy has you arch off the bed, urging him deeper, and it’s heaven to witness.

He didn’t want to go all in just yet, but you’re gushing around his finger and taking it so well. So he lets you have it, sinking his finger all the way into you. You feel him go deeper and deeper, the never-ending length of his finger a stark contrast to your shorter ones. He’s reaching places you were never able to, and even the slide of him inside you elicits a deep, warm pleasure that spreads to the tips of your fingers.

He keeps his finger all the way inside for a moment, still as he feels your walls clench around him. Once he’s sure you’re all good, he begins pressing into you with shallow thrusts, thumb returning to your clit and rubbing in time with each push of his finger.

Curses spill from your lips, and Anakin can’t help himself. He leans down over you and captures them in his mouth, swallowing your cries of pleasure. The kiss is wet, dirty, and the muffled sounds of your moans combat the indecent slick and slide below. Soon, another finger is nudging at your opening, and you press yourself deeper into his lips in anticipation of that painful sting.

It doesn’t come.

Instead, his finger slides in a couple inches and he keeps both of them there, letting you adjust as his thumb rolls over your clit. You had never been able to use two fingers before, and your head goes fuzzy as he pushes them deeper. Your walls stretch around him pleasantly, accepting the welcome intrusion as he reaches deep inside you.

How is it fair that he can make you feel so much better than you can make yourself? It doesn’t seem right in the whole grand scheme of things, but you decide not to question it as his fingers suddenly curl inside you, searching. It feels odd, and he pulls back from your lips to concentrate for a second until-- there. Found it.

You almost knock your head into his as you shoot up, a startled cry leaving your lips as your vision whites with pleasure. Your fingers claw at his back, meeting the leather that still sits on his shoulders, and scrabbling over the smooth material for purchase. Anakin laughs at your reaction, easing you into a more comfortable position as he holds you against him with his metal arm behind your back.

You can’t find it in you to care that he’s laughing, not as long as he keeps rolling the pads of his fingers into you like this. His wrist curls, applying a harder pressure as he rubs against that spot, and your head falls back, hips pushing forward, the lewdest sounds you’ve ever heard leaving your mouth. 

“You like that,” he notes, proud smile ghosting over your lips. He kisses the corner of your mouth quick and sweet, then asks, “Is it better when I go slow or fast?”

“Both,” you gasp. “Either. All of it. Oh my--”

“Soft or hard?”

“Anakin--”

Your brain is unable to focus on much else other than the feel of his fingers coaxing that blissful heat from your center. He plays around with paces and pressures, but everything feels good, it feels great, it feels amazing, it feels euphoric. Before long, your legs are shaking and a weird feeling comes over you, and you’re crying out,

“What’s happening?”

Anakin pauses, his entire body stilling as he meets your eyes. You’re completely serious, that much he can tell by the vulnerability in your eyes. He frowns, unbelieving at this revelation.

“Why’d you stop?”

“Have you ever had an orgasm?”

You whine and shift your hips into his hand, trying to get him to keep making you feel good. If this wasn’t your first time being with someone else, Anakin would have held your hip still and forced you to talk to him no matter how much you begged and pleaded. But, it was your first time with someone else, so he was deciding to be nice. He soothes your craving, resuming his movements but at a much slower pace. A pleased sigh from you fills the silence of him waiting expectantly for your answer.

“Um..” you swallow, hips meeting his hand with every thrust. “I don’t think so. No. Nothing’s ever felt… like… this…”

It’s like a sneeze, except much, much better. The way his fingers prod into you, slick with your arousal, the tips brushing and massaging against that spot that have you careening into his body. You would have toppled over on top of him if he wasn’t so strong and rooted to the bed. He holds your shivering body against his chest with his metal arm, lips marking their way around your chin and jaw as your head falls back in ecstasy. 

He’s immensely turned on, that much is obvious from the painful straining in his pants. But it’s easy to ignore, knowing now that you’ve never fallen off that brink of pleasure before. He’s curious about it, oddly saddened by the fact, and wants nothing more than to show you the absolute highs he could help you reach. So he focuses back in on rubbing your clit with his thumb, fucking you deeply on his fingers. He allows you to clutch at his back and bury your hands in his hair, moaning in abandon.

Anakin shares you pleasure as the ball in your stomach unleashes, a blissful warmth crashing over you and invading your every cell. For a moment, your body isn’t yours-- it convulses and clenches around Anakin’s fingers, your cries bounce off the walls, your eyes squeeze closed. You hope the hands twisted into his hair don’t hurt him because you physically can’t let go as you ride that pleasure-filled haze, the feeling in your limbs abandoning you to be replaced with something much stronger. 

For a while, the only sounds in the room are your gasps of air and the blood rushing through your ears. Anakin waits until your muscles relax, and then he slides his fingers out of you, smoothing his hand around your waist to join his other behind your back. He lays you down into the pillows again, burying his face in your neck as you struggle to get your legs to stop shaking.

“Y/n,” he mouths a line up your neck. “You there?”

“Mhm,” you gulp, the shock of that intense, pleasurable feeling just beginning to fade.

He pressed his deep chuckle into the spot right under your ear. “Good. I thought I lost you for a moment.”

If you were in your right state of mind, you would have laughed at his teasing. Now, all you can do is cup his face lazily in your boneless hands, pulling his face up so that you can look at him. His cheeks are flushed the slightest pink, eyes dark and sparkling, lips so red and full and inviting…

You kiss him, and he’s yours for a moment longer. 

If only it could always be like this. If only this could be a daily experience, and afterwards you could take care of him, and you could feel that wonderful euphoria with him at the same time. If only he wouldn’t have to pull away soon, untangle himself from your still-shaking limbs, brush off what just happened, and be on his way. If only he could be yours forever.

All of this, you try to tell him through the kiss. Your lips are hot, sliding over with a wanton need. He feels your yearning, and he can tell it’s a different kind than earlier. You move to deepen the kiss, but he pulls away.

“I know what you’re thinking,” his low voice murmurs, and now he doesn’t look so playful. In fact, he looks very serious, and the rumble of his words causes your stomach to drop. “You should know, Y/n, I want you too.”

The whole room could be on fire and burning and falling to ash around you, but you wouldn’t notice. Everything pales in comparison to the flames that erupt in your heart at the sound of his words. 

“You do?”

He purses his lips, running his eyes up and down your face. You’re nervous, and hopeful, and so, so scared. And also… still shivering. Most likely due to the cold, at this point. And he’s sure the drunken affects of your orgasm are still holding sway over your mind.

“This is a conversation I think would be much better held over some ruby bliels,” he decides, and begins to unwind himself from you. You let him, that hopeful spark still searing through your veins. Before getting off the bed, he presses a kiss into your hand and then smooths over it with his thumb.

You want to say something cute or witty, but the only thing your dumb brain can come up with is, “Okay.”

“Okay,” he smiles fondly, moving toward the door. “I’ll meet you out there. Feel free to remain pantsless.”

This has you rolling your eyes, laughing lightly as you fall back against the pillows. Don’t tempt me.

The prospect of a future with Anakin is at the forefront of your brain, blood pumping thick as molasses as you struggle to convince yourself this is reality. He shuts the door behind him as you leave, and you roll onto your stomach to scream into the pillow. 

This was a dream come true.

#anakin skywalker x fem reader #anakin x fem reader #anakin skywalker fic #anakin fic #anakin x fem reader fic #anakin skywalker x fem reader fic #soft anakin #friends to lovers #star wars prequels fic

[metize]

Valentione’s Day Chocolate

Emet-Selch x WoL (AFAB) smut Tags: Valentione's Day ; No Spoilers ; AFAB Warrior of Light ;They/Them Pronouns for Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV) ; Gender-Neutral Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV) ; Fluff and Smut

A/N:Emet smut! Finally posting my FFXIV fics on tumblr. Cuz I want to do headcanons and requests and stuff...... Anyways! This is just fluff and smut. No warnings just pure bastard ascian thirst quenching material.

You were resting in your room in the Pendants, sitting down at the dining table when Emet-Selch waltzed in. You were over trying to get him to leave at this point, the recurring encounters made you more accustomed to his insufferable personality.

"Hey! Stop it, this isn't for you!" You pulled the box of chocolates away from the Ascian, who already held one in his hand.

"Oh, please, you have dozens more on you little pile there, Hero, selfishness is not a good look  for you." He said unbothered by your reaction. Emet-Selch gestured towards your stack of heart-shaped boxes, they were gifted to you by the people of the Crystarium all of them very eager to show their appreciation for the Warrior of Darkness.

"This one's different. This one….  It's from the Exarch." You mutter, tracing your fingers along the container.

"And? Is the chocolate any sweeter when it's handed to you by our friendly neighborhood hooded freak?"

"He's not-" you don't know why you feel the urge to defend the Crystal Exarch, but you feel very close to him, his devotion and wisdom are admirable and you felt a growing sense of fondness towards the anonymous Crystarium ruler. "I don't know why I'd even bother explaining these things to you." You shake your head, telling yourself not to waste your breath. "Looking at you Ascians I scarcely believe your kind would understand feelings."

Emet-Selch popped the round bonbon into his mouth before saying. "How cruel, Hero. I will have you know I feel as much as you do." He sighs disappointed "Perhaps even more, I'd argue." He muttered under his breath.

"Well then understand that this box is full of feelings, fondness, appreciation…"

"Strange, those don't translate that well into taste." He mused and crossed his legs "I must say I find your day of courtship is severely lacking. Is this all you do to show you care for another?"

You rolled your eyes "Well excuse us mortals for letting you down yet again." You close the violated box, sealing it back by tying the red ribbon over it. "Here you can have this one if you want candy that badly." You push a random package, pink and sparkly, towards Emet-Selch.

“Oh, Warrior, you shouldn’t have!” he feigned bashfulness and you couldn’t help but let out a chuckle. “I am very flattered, oh look you even wrote me a letter, let me see.” There was indeed a small piece of paper attached to the present, Emet-Selch unfolded the card before reciting “Dear Emet-Selch,” You huff in amusement, curious as to what the Ascian would make up “I pale in comparison to you and your kind, I am so grateful for your selflessness and your assistance during my meaningless quests.” You crossed your arms, not surprised by his antics, but then you weren’t expecting him to continue. “We are sworn enemies and yet I cannot quell the flames burning inside of me whenever I see you. I want nothing more than be ravished by you, every night I touch myself to the thought of y-”

“G-gods! That’s it your Valentione’s candy rights have been revoked.” You grab the box he held in his hands, taking it away from him, your face burning up at his shameless smirk. “Do you have nothing else to do besides teasing me for your own amusement? Just walk into your creepy portal and get a hobby already.” You get up from the table, pretending to be cleaning things up.

“Ah, you’d be surprised at how enjoyable it is to watch you squirm.” But he got up right behind you. “So much passion, Hero. Who would’ve thought you garnered such feelings for me.”

“Pff, you wish. And there is no passion or feelings in that letter, who’s to say I didn’t just want you to fuck me and that’s it.” You turned around to face him. He was way closer than you expected him to be and you stumble backward a bit, yet he steps right back into your personal space.

“If I were to fuck you, Hero, it'd most certainly be with passion, I can assure you." He smiled and reached to caress your hair.

“You’re the worst.” You averted your gaze, embarrassed by the closeness and his gentle touch, yet you didn’t move away. Of course you didn’t, you were attracted to that bastard for some reason and you cursed yourself endlessly for it. “Don’t say shit you don’t mean just to get a reaction out of me.”

He grabbed your face by your chin, his touch now rough, forcing you to look at him. “I’ve told you before, Hero. I do not lie.” His tone is now low and he delights himself seeing you get goosebumps on your skin as he caresses your arm with his free hand. “Though I cannot deny how much I enjoy your reactions.”

It annoyed you how readable you were to him, every part of your body seemed to betray you and clearly show him exactly how much you were affected by his presence. You couldn’t even process the fact he started closing the gap between you until you felt his lips press against yours. You let out a tiny gasp in surprise, parting your lips slightly, he pressed himself closer deepening the kiss and pushing his tongue into your mouth. You started kissing him back and you could feel him smile against your lips, his mouth growing hungrier as he guided you back against the table you were just talking on.

You sat on the table, glad you managed to put away the gifts giving you some space to rest on. Emet nudged himself in between your legs, you spread them wider unconsciously giving him more space, welcoming him closer. “So pliant to my touch, dear hero.” He murmurs, his hands gripping your waist as he starts kissing your neck. “Tell me how much you want it.”

“Please… Touch me…” You plead softly before you can get too self-conscious about sounding needy. You’re instantly rewarded with the feeling of his gloved hand slipping under your top, reaching to play with one of your breasts. His other hand slowly unbuttoning said blouse, while he peppered your revealed skin with kisses. Once your torso was fully exposed you fought the urge to cover yourself as Emet-Selch’s persistent gaze never left your upper body.

“You’ve tempted me for far too long, Warrior of Light…” he spoke more to himself than to you, shaking his head before diving to kiss one of your nipples while his hand tugged at the other. You bit your lips to try and stifle your groans, but Emet tsked at you. “Don’t hide your voice from me, I wish to hear it.” He smiled devilishly. “The more pathetic you sound the happier I get.” To punctuate his phrase he blew on your slickened pink bud, making your breath hitch.

“Y-you really are the worse.” You shook your head, cheeks flushed at the way he played with your body as a practiced musician did with their instrument.

“Maybe so…” He mused, gripping your bottoms to undress you further. “But will I find you dripping for the awful being before you? How come my virtuous hero finds themselves in this predicament? Submissive, pliant, needy, beneath their villain’s touch…” He smirked and kissed his way down your body as your garments were pulled down, leaving you completely bare while the Ascian was fully clothed. The contrast made you shiver with anticipation, his words were going straight to your core, the sheer wrongness of this whole setting was infuriatingly arousing. Emet was on his knees between your legs, you could feel his hot breath on your skin. He looked at you straight in the eyes as he pulled his glove off with his teeth, right before using his now bare fingers to spread your lips open. “Maybe you’re not such a good warrior to your Goddess after all, are you? From here all I see is a depraved, needy little thing.”

“Emet, p-please…” His touches were fleeting and his mouth left wet kisses on her inner thigh.

“Hm?” He looked up, feigning innocence.

“Please I need you…”

“You are so greedy with your words, pray share them with me. What do you need of me?” His fingers gently rubbed your entrance, you moan still trying to sort your words out while he teased you. He sighed. “What is it, do you want my fingers deep inside your cunt? Want me to spread you open with my fingers and make you come on them?” You nodded profusely at his suggestions and he plunged a digit into your entrance with no warning pulling a gasp from your lips before he kept talking. “You want my mouth on you? Want me to use my tongue to bring you to completion while you whine and try to grind against my mouth?”

“Yes! Gods yes.” With that his lips were on you.

He kissed your pussy still stretching it with his finger, he added a second digit as he started licking and teasing your clit. You couldn’t help but gasp and moan under his ministrations, his hands reached everywhere inside of you and his mouth was absolutely sinful. You softly begged him not to stop, as his fingers curled inside you and his warm tongue circled your sensitive nub. You cried out coming around him, you didn’t even notice you had you hand gripping his hair until you were coming down from the high. You were aching still, you were pretty sure you’d go insane if you didn’t get filled with the Ascian’s cock in the next few minutes.

“M-more…”

“Insatiable little thing, aren’t you?” his usual condescending tone was betrayed by his visible erection. “Want your pretty little cunt filled with my cum? Broken little thing, you are…” Your vision was hazy, you were lost in both the afterglow and the arousal that was building up again inside you. You weren’t watching his movements, all you could focus on was his amber eyes blown out with lust and the filthy words he spoke into your ear, soon enough you felt his tip tease your entrance, rubbing it up and down against your slit.

“Don- Don’t do this… ah… to me.” you were tired of his teasing, it was bordering on cruelty at this point. “Need you inside me…”

That seemed to persuade him enough because he started pressing into your warm entrance at once. His lips went back to kissing yours as he bottomed out inside, the kiss was desperate and passionate, the way his mouth consumed you arousing you further as you felt his dick stretching your walls.

“All the way in…” he announced and kissed your forehead gently, giving you a moment to adjust. You nodded violently giving him permission to move already and he smiled at your eagerness. His thrusts started deep and steady, your moans filling the room each time he hit just the right spot inside of you. “Is this what you need, Hero? You need to be filled, hm? Only I can make you feel complete, my dear warrior.” He pulled your hair and looked into your eyes, as you struggled to keep your eyes open. “I see you. I know what you need and only I can give it to you.”

You cried out for him as his pace quickened, you could feel your second orgasm approaching quickly but you wanted to come to his voice speaking more filthy things to you. He noticed it too, smirking at you before continuing to speak. “Come around my cock, my needy broken little hero. Do it and I’ll give you my cum, I’ll fill you up like you need to be filled. I will ruin you for anyone else.” You moaned and scratched his clothed back as he fucked you through your climax. He didn’t stop pounding you. “That’s it, that’s my good little hero… Fuck…” He groaned feeling you clenching around him, his pace faltering until he came inside you.

The both of you breathe heavily before Emet kissed your forehead. You close your eyes still catching your breath as you hear the familiar ‘snap’ of the Ascians fingers, you open your eyes to find you both in bed.

“Didn’t take you for a cuddler.” you teased him as you felt his arms holding you from behind. “You’ll find I am full of surprises.” You can hear the smirk on his voice, you huffed before nudging closer to him and closing your eyes, sinking into sleep.

You wake up alone, a red box of chocolates placed on your nightstand addressed to “my good little hero”.

#emet-selch #ffxiv fanfiction #wol #emet x wol #emet-selch x wol #emet/wol #emet-selch/wol #emet selch #ffxiv smut #ffxiv headcanons #ffxiv writing #final fantasy xiv fanfic #emetwol #smut fanfiction #hades ffxiv #ffxiv hades #ffxiv oc #ffxiv wol #ffxiv emet selch #ffxiv fic

[outofordertimemachine]

Hurry Home: Butterflies In My Stomach

Genre- sappy sappy romance

Pairing- Ko Mun Young/ Moon Gang Tae

Summary- Gang Tae isn’t sure about a lot of things, but there are things he’s getting more sure about, each day

Author’s Note- I haven’t written fan-fiction since the originals (Klamille). I could not wait till Saturday for the next episode so I thought I’d give myself, and hopefully other fans, a treat. Hope you enjoy even though it’s very short. Please leave comments I would really appreciate.

_______________________

"Gang Tae, please check up on the patient in room 205."

"Okay!" Gang Tae replied back in low but crisp voice, not loud enough to startle anyone but loud enough for Park Haeng Ja to hear. It was another long day at the hospital, and he could feel the effects of the day on his body. He could feel the slight strain on the back of his neck, and a dull ache in his left wrist from an accidentally hard pull by a patient earlier. However, none of this reflected in his walk. He walked steadfast and with seeming ease, like this job was his second nature.

But it wasn't. It was tough and it was exhausting. There were times when he wanted to scream. There were times when he was in pain while trying to hold onto a patient, and there were times when he wanted to just run away. He would find himself glancing out the window screens of the hallways, sometimes lost in a daydream. At times, when real life felt like a nightmare, it was easier to tune it out and pretend.

Exiting the room, he checked the time on his wrist watch and realized it was time for a break. He grabbed a juice packet and decided to rest on a bench in the garden. He glanced around at the warm sun and the bright tree leaves, and felt a small smile make it's way across his lips. For a moment, he almost found himself get lost in the blue skies, almost. A small butterfly jaggedly made its way across the grass right in front of his shoes, and he was reminded of why he hated this season. All of a sudden, the brightness of the leaves, the warmth of the sun, and the blueness of the sky seemed duller, even putrid rather. Subconsciously, he crushed the empty box of juice in his hands.

As he glanced at the crushed box, he lost himself in thought again. Did he really hate spring? Or did he learn to hate it because of what it brought. How could he really know, though. Even if he let himself follow that train of thought, even if he let himself enjoy the warmth on his back, it wouldn't be long until the familiar feeling of dread made it's way past his chest, growing like a vein around his heart. Will he ever be able to know? Will he ever be able to figure out what he liked, without the shadows of the past haunting his every living, breathing moment?

He shook his head immediately, trying to physically shake off these thoughts from his head. He couldn't let himself go down that train of thought. He just couldn’t. He rubbed his arms to rid the goosebumps that had made their way across his shoulders. He got up and dumped the crumpled juice box in a nearby trash can and made his way inside the hospital.

- - - 

"Hurry home," the text from Mun Young read assertive and bold. Gang Tae shook his head as he caught himself smiling. Even now, he was sometimes caught off guard by her boldness. It turned him away in the beginning. It felt as if she was insincere, but he had since been proven wrong. Maybe he was scared of it being sincere, because then he wouldn't have been able to hold himself back. And rightfully so, he hadn't been able to hold himself back or pull himself away from this.

He shut his locker and made his way out of the hospital. He got inside the car and and sat for a minute before starting the engine. As he made his way home, he had a strange feeling bubble in his stomach. It wasn't a completely new feeling, he had felt it before, but it had been too long for him to remember how exactly it felt.

Mun Young's face made its way into his thoughts. He remembered her deep, brown eyes. He recalled how it felt to have those eyes staring right into his. He thought about the way her hair frames her face, the way she pouts when she doesn't understand why the other person is not understanding what she's trying to see. He remembered how her entire face transformed when she got angry, but he knew that nobody but him could notice such changes as they were not very distinct.

"You crazy bastard," he said to himself as he lightly hit the steering wheel. He couldn't believe how he could feel this way. More than that, he couldn't believe how much he was enjoying this. The strange feeling in his gut fluttered. He made his way past the gates and parked the car. A sudden realization made his eyes go wide and paused while turning off the engine. He realized what the feeling in his gut was. It was scary, how much he still liked it, even if he now knew what exactly it translated to. He was shaken out of his stupor with a harsh knock on the window. He turned to see Mun Young standing there, with her arms crossed in front of her and a pout on her lips. He couldn't help himself as he flashed her a smile.

"Why weren't you coming out of there," Mun Young did not take a pause before firing at him, as he made his way out of the car and slung his bag across his left shoulder. She gazed up at him, confused. He just stood there and kept smiling at her.

"What? Why aren't you saying anything? Are you sleepy? Why are you smiling? Did a patient hit you to make you loopy?" Mun Young shouted one question after another, without taking a breath but with a seeming ease, as if firing such questions was routine.

"I like spring," Gang Tae said, in a voice that wasn't so crisp.

"What?" Mun Young was caught off guard. What was he rambling about, she thought. Has he really gone mad?

"I like spring," Gang Tae said, more clearly this time. Still confused, Mun Young didn't understand what to say. Not a lot of things in this world held the capacity to leave her spellbound, but Gang Tae seemed to know all of them.

Gang Tae grabbed her hand and gave her a bright smile. "Let's go," he said as he pulled her towards the house. Mun Young was still confused, but it was hard to hold onto the confusion while Gang Tae's warmth spread thought her hand. She smiled, as she let him lead the way. Vaguely, she recalled him telling her that he hated the season of spring. She wondered what caused him to change his mind. She decided that it didn't matter, because she wanted to only focus on the feeling of his skin against hers. Everything else seemed to fall away when they were together. 

Gang Tae felt his stomach flutter again. Paradoxically, the vein around his heart loosened a bit.

#it's okay to not be okay #psycho but it's okay #kdrama2020 #kdrama #netflix #fanfiction #ko mun young #moon gang tae #fanfic

[redqueen-hypothesis]

never strikes twice ➳ shaw (mlqc)

➳ PAIRING: reader x shaw (mlqc), mentions of reader x gavin (mlqc)

➳ WORD COUNT: 3001

➳ GENRE: angst

➳ SYNOPSIS: shaw realises that he’s a selfish bastard, but he doesn’t care as long as it means you’ll be with him

“Hey kid, want a smoke?”

Shaw looks up slowly from where he’s been moping on the couch for the better half of the night to see a cigarette stick held out to him. The person holding it, a casual drummer in his mid thirties, raises an eyebrow as he glances over at him, gesturing down at the Zippo lighter he’s been fiddling with in his hand. Steely, hooded eyes hide the barest hint of concern in their depths. “You’ve been looking down for a while now. Thought you might need a pick-me-up.”

His voice is low, almost drowned out by the raucous laughter of the rest of his band mates fiddling with the settings on the karaoke machine. Shaw cracks a half grin at the man, lavender strands falling into his eyes.

“Thanks,” he begins, stretches out over the armrest to take the stick from him, but his fingers stop just shy of brushing it. The craving gnaws at him from the inside, a small but insistent itch in his throat and lungs, but he retracts his hand in favour of shooting his band mate a lazy smile. “Nah, not today. Another time, maybe.”

Shaw hasn’t touched a cigarette in weeks now. You don’t like the scent.

The drummer shrugs and doesn’t question him, slipping the pack back into his pocket. Kicking his feet back up onto the armrests of the couch and lounging back, he watches his band mates start singing all variety of tunes into the mics. He recognizes this song, Shaw realises after a few moments. It’s the opening theme to one of a drama you’d insistent on watching with him, and although he’d hated it at the start, he now knows the lyrics by heart - all because of you.

Halfway through the song, he stops mouthing alongside the lyrics abruptly. Then he groans, low and annoyed, dragging a hand roughly through his hair. God fucking damnit.

He’d come here to clear his head, to rid himself of the thoughts of you that cling relentlessly to him. And yet, even when you’re not there, his mind is still plagued by thoughts of you.

“You look like you got something big on your mind. Need someone to spill to?” The man says casually, pouring him a glass of whiskey. The scent of alcohol is sharp on his nose and Shaw finds himself staring down into the contents of the glass, the image of himself reflected in liquid amber. The drummer slides the glass over to him across the coffee table and he catches it before it can slide off the edge.

Just when had his eyes started to look like that?

“It’s nothing.” Shaw plays it cool, pulling up one side of his mouth up in its usual devil-may-care smirk to reassure his friend. The flame of from his lighter illuminates his face for a brief second before he flips the top and extinguishes the flame once more, casting his face into shadow. “It’s nothing worth talking about.”

It’s not nothing. It’s something Shaw has spent his entire life running from, and the responsibilities and shackles that come with it. It’s an emotion that grows and sprouts in his chest, tenacious as weeds that flourish all the more he tries to stomp them out. He has bad luck with it, he knows. He’ll just fuck it up like he did his own family.

And yet slowly, steadily, it’s been consuming him no matter how much he tries to flee from it, like poison from within his veins, turning him into a different man inside out. From his waking moments and following him to his dreams, the phantom ache in his chest only hurts more the further he tries to put distance between the two of you. Shaw knows that it’s going to collapse in the end - he’s just a temporary fix in this precarious house of cards - and that’s why he’s too afraid to put a name to these feelings that refuse to just wilt and die.

Shaking his head in an attempt to clear his head, Shaw grabs the glass off the table and brings it to his lips to take a long draught, craving the carelessness that comes with drink. Tonight, he decides, he’s going to get himself completely smashed, until he can’t think straight and your smile stops haunting his mind. Then maybe, maybe, he’ll stop fantasizing, long and yearning like a fool for something out of his reach - someone that never belonged to him from the very beginning.

“Is it a girl?”

The words fall from his friend’s mouth so easily that he doesn’t quite register them until the drink is halfway down his throat. Caught by surprise, he chokes on the sharp taste, the back of his throat burning like he’s swallowed lava instead, and a firm hand slaps his back while he coughs.

“Bro, you still alive over there?” One of his band mates call to him from the other side of the room. Shaw flashes a thumbs up at him weakly, dragging the back of his other hand over his mouth carelessly before he turns to shoot a glare at his friend. “The fuck was that about?”

The drummer simply shrugs, arching a brow as he leans back in his seat. “I was just throwing out something random. You were the one who screamed jackpot for the entire world to see, with that kind of reaction. What happened? You broke it off with a pretty little thing again?”

Shaw grunts, turning away to take a swig of whiskey straight from the bottle. “Shut up. I’ve never been exclusive with anyone.” The alcohol numbs the pain in his chest. “There’s nothing to break.”

“But you want something, don’t you?”

The liquid sloshes about in the bottle as Shaw pauses in raising the whiskey to his mouth, eyes narrowed as he stares down at the drummer. “Just speak your mind,” the man answers, picking up his own bottle and clinking bottoms with Shaw’s. “I’m going to get completely wasted tonight anyway, so I’m pretty sure I won’t remember anything about this conversation in the morning.”

Shaw watches in silence for a few moments, swirling the dregs at the bottom of the bottle as the man opposite him down his own. The second the empty bottle touches the table top with a soft clink, Shaw finally starts to speak, voice low.

“Have you ever felt like you’re a curse just for being born?”

The man raises an eyebrow, popping open a can of beer and nodding for him to continue. Shaw does, lifting the bottle to his lips to take a gulp. The alcohol stings the back of his throat. “If I hadn’t been born, things would probably be in a better place than they are now. Still shittier than dog crap stuck to the bottom of your shoe, of course, but less so.”

All because he was born with EVOL and the other wasn’t.

“Anyway, one of the guys whose lives I fucked up, he has a girl. She’s,” he swallows at the thought of you, searching for the words in his mind - because how does he just describe you? “-sweet, kind, all the good things in the world.” He takes another gulp for something to blame the stinging of his eyes on. “She deserves someone like him. And he needs someone like her.”

It isn’t him who’s supposed to have you. The other one has loved you first, loved you longer. Not deeper, but in a such a pure, unadulterated way that Shaw can’t help but gag every time he sees it - and wish somewhere deep in his chest that he could do the same.

Shaw’s already stolen so much from him. The spotlight since birth, the attention of their father. As much of an asshole as he is, the thought of stealing yet something else away disgusts him - just how much does he have to owe one man?

He’s seen the way you’ve looked at him sometimes, when you think he isn’t looking. It’s a bittersweet expression, as if you’re searching for someone else in him - amber eyes another shade of gold.

Shaw groans, thoroughly annoyed by the thoughts that have started spilling over into his head. “I knew talking about this would just make it worse.” He snaps, slamming the bottle down onto the table. “Fuck this. Repression works every time. Once he gets his memories back, bam, she’ll be back by his side and everything will go back to normal.”

The words are unbelievably bitter on his tongue. Oh, and he’s also definitely drunk.

The drummer hums, making a thoughtful sound as he takes a long draft of beer. When he’s finished, he turns to look at Shaw with unwavering, serious eyes. “And you’ll be alright with that?”

Shaw stills, fingers tightening around the neck of the bottle so hard he’s almost worried it might shatter in his hand. Of course it’ll be alright, he wants to say. Love is a stupid, fickle emotion that’ll die fast enough with the passage of time. He’ll drop you off with one of his smirks and walk out of your life once and for all, and go back to the life he’s always known. He was fine back then, and he’ll be fine now. He’ll be fine-

“I won’t.” Shaw utters, finally. His jaw hurts from how hard it’s clenched, and yet he still can’t think of a future for him without you in it. He hates it. “Fuck-”

“Go and tell her, then.” His friend says, raising an eyebrow. Shaw stares blankly at him for a moment. “For someone usually so forward, you’re stupidly hesitant over the most idiotic of things, kiddo.”

“I’m not a child.” Shaw snaps, and the man laughs, clapping him on the shoulder. “I know, so stop acting like one. If there’s something you want, take the chance and grab it with all your might. Being selfless like that?” The man’s grin grows. “That ain’t sound like our resident asshole at all.”

At his words, Shaw laughs boisterous and unrestrained, throwing on his jacket. “Damn straight. What the fuck was I thinking, going down without a fight?” He tosses another can of beer at the man, who catches it easily. “Make sure you chug the entire ice box. I don’t want you remembering a word I said, got it?”

His friend’s snort reaches his ears as he steps out of the apartment. “I’m already halfway there, idiot.” The streets are empty at this time of the night, the air biting cold against his skin and yet Shaw feels rejuvenated for the first time in weeks, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth as he gives the night winds the middle finger.

Lightning splits the night sky in two.

>>>

It’s started to storm.

Hurriedly, you set down the book you were reading to shut the windows, hoping that none of the rain gets in. While you’re closing the windows in your living room, there’s a sudden, loud knock on the door.

Frowning when you look up at the clock (it’s two in the morning), you cross over to the door to peep through the peephole - and gasp in shock when you see Shaw standing outside, completely drenched and lavender hair dripping with rainwater.

“Oh my god, Shaw? What are you doing here at this time of the night?” You hurry to unlock the door for him, ushering him into your apartment even as he tracks in water all over the floor. He’s uncharacteristically silent. “You’ll catch a cold if you stay like this, I’ll get you a towel-”

“Wait.” He grabs you by the wrist before you can leave the room. Blinking in confusion, you turn around to look at Shaw before you realise just how close he’s standing to you - too close, in fact. So close, that you can feel the heat emanating from his body, smell the unique scent of ozone and lavender mixed with faint traces of alcohol and nicotine. Has he been out drinking? “I have something I need to say.”

You swallow at the serious tone in his voice, rarely has he ever spoken to you this way. In fact, you can’t remember a time when he’s used this tone with you, not even once. “That can wait until I’ve gotten you a towel. The air conditioning is on, you’ll fall ill. You can tell me as you dry yourself off-”

“I love you.”

You freeze in his grasp, mind suddenly blank. Shaw’s amber eyes burn so bright they look like molten gold, not the slightest trace of jest in his voice or gaze. And yet, you can’t help but tremble in his grasp, chewing on your bottom lip as you let out a shaky laugh. “Hahaha... very funny, Shaw. Now let me get a towel before you freeze to death, that would be a real joke-”

“I’m not laughing here.” Shaw’s expression is fiercely resolute, jaw set as he stares down at you. You’ve never felt so small in front of him before. “I meant what I said. I’m not trying to crack a joke.”

“B-but you can’t.” You fumble with your words, trying to take a step away and make sense of it all, but Shaw refuses to let you go, only holding your wrist tighter. “You were drinking, you don’t know what you’re saying. You can’t like me. It’s just not possible.”

“Why not?” Shaw’s voice is rough with emotion, and you can’t look away from the fierceness burning in his eyes, transfixed. “I did drink, but I’m not drunk. I know damn well what I’m saying.”

You don’t know what you’re saying now, desperate to deny his feelings. Your mind is falling apart, and forming a cohesive train of thought proves too much for you. “You’re young. You just... you don’t know what love is. You just-”

Shaw grabs your hand firmly and presses it to his chest. Under the wet material of his shirt, you can feel the heat of his skin - and the way his heart thuds fiercely beneath your touch.

“Feel this and tell me,” Shaw’s words are raw, brutally honest, leaving you nowhere to flee. You’re pinned in place by the sheer intensity of his gaze. “Tell me that I don’t know what love is. The way this heart beats whenever you’re near. The way you won’t leave my mind whether I’m sleeping or awake. I know what I want. I want you.”

A soft hiccup escapes you, your eyes welling up with tears as your fingers fist into the thin material of his shirt. “Damn it, Shaw...” you croak, voice wavering. Your own heart is pounding like crazy in your ears. “You know I can’t give you an answer, not right now...”

“I know.” Shaw says quietly, and the next moment, you’re pulled against his chest, his fingers coming to rest in your hair gently. You press your face against his shoulder, tears hot against his skin. “I’m a selfish bastard and couldn’t wait to tell you, so i just wanted to let you know. I’m not asking you to fall in love with me.”

You blink back your tears, managing a soft, hiccuping laugh as your arms tighten around his waist. “You’re such a selfless bastard, you know that? Stop making me like you even more, asshole.” He’s so warm.

“I’m not apologising for that. That’s me.” Shaw snorts into your hair, inhaling the scent of your shampoo as he holds you close. If you want a knight in shining armor, go to him instead. “I’m not going to be pussy footed about what I want.”

You stay in Shaw’s arms for a long moment, enjoying the warmth of his body pressed against yours and the feeling of his breaths tickling your ear. Your heart still aches for another pair of amber eyes, a gentle smile and strong, steadfast arms, but this man keeps you moving forward no matter what’s holding you down. And undeniably, there’s a tiny seed of a precious emotion growing in your chest - one that you never would have thought would be able to sprout in the bitter cold of this winter world.

You don’t know how long he continues to hold you like this, but it’s when he suddenly lets out a sneeze that you glance up in surprise and worry. “You’re catching a cold already!” You scold, trying to wriggle out of his arms. “I’m getting you a towel and some hot chocolate.”

“I don’t want to let you out.” Shaw complains, but you duck out of his arms, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. To your surprise, red flares hot under your lips, and Shaw turns away to hide his face. “Come back fast, okay? I’ll go get the kettle boiling.”

You let out a tiny giggle as he vanishes into the kitchen, tips of his ears red. “Okay, okay.”

You’re about to enter your room and grab a towel for Shaw when there’s a sudden knocking at your living room window. Confused, you move over to the window, pulling it open to see what’s causing the noise.

There’s a flurry of wind and rain, and suddenly a pair of familiar arms are pulling you hard into a firm chest, unintelligible sobs in your ears. Stunned, you can’t bring yourself to move, looking down to see a black military uniform and strikingly unforgettable amber eyes.

“Gavin.” You breathe, so soft that you can barely hear yourself over the volume of his cries. He’s crying, and he’s never cried, not in this world, not in the one before. Your hands come up instinctively to soothe him, cradling him close. But he shouldn’t be, not here, he can’t-

“I remember.” He gasps through his sobs, crushing you against his chest in a painfully familiar embrace. “I remember everything.”

That’s all you hear before a pair of warm, chapped lips take your mouth in a fierce kiss.

#mlqc #mlqc fanfic #mlqc shaw #shaw #mr love queen's choice shaw #mr love queen's choice

[pacoc-a]

Soulmate Au 2 [part 1]

Rating: T 

Pairing: Five\Vanya

Tags; Soulmate Au, alternate universe, anti-soulmate soulmate au, unrequited love

Five and Vanya are not each other’s soulmates.

A/N: I was actually planning to delete this whole chunk because its very.. old and I think I’ve grown from this but it might be a waste. And it will become requited later but Vanya’s interests is not on Five (yet). 

Vanya rents a decrepit old apartment smack dab in the middle of the city and tries to pursue a career as a violinist. Work was slow, and occasionally, the ceiling would start leaking again but she liked having something she can call hers. 

When Five visits, she brings out her best mugs. His is a big, faded blue one that he fills to the brim with black coffee while hers is a white, rounded cup that she fills with different types of tea. 

 ‘I’m trying out a new one today.’ She says, holding out the box in front of her, ‘It’s chamomile with blackcurrant but it’s a different brand.’ 

‘Can’t be worse than the one you had last time.’

‘It wasn’t that bad.’ 

He gives her a look.

‘Really, I liked it. Sorta.’ 

He remembers the way her nose scrunched up from the smell alone. ‘You know you’re bad at bullshitting. You should leave that sort of thing for Klaus.’ 

She scoffs, 'Maybe some people actually mean what they say. Not everyone was raised as an A-grade liar.' 

'I know. You're not. That's why I said you're bad at bullshitting. Talk to me again in ten minutes after you've thrown away another perfectly good box of tea in the bin.' 

Vanya glares at him as she furiously makes herself a cup in revenge.

‘There’s this person I know’ Vanya starts. Five groans. He knows where this is going, ‘someone who hasn’t found their soulmate yet. They showed me their mark and it reminded me of you.’

Ever since Vanya realized she doesn’t have a soulmate she’s been determined to find everyone else’s. It's insulting that she'd ever think that a scab on his skin would ever control the way he'd think about other people.

Or change the way he'd feel about her.

He finishes his coffee and places the mug on the small table.

‘I think their mark sort of had the same curl at the end like yours.’ She continues. She sips her tea and for a split second her brow furrows in disgust. 

‘I don’t care.’

‘Are you sure? We’re not really friends but I can help you meet— and you’ve been holed up in your apartment a lot lately.’ She pauses, and looks down, ‘I guess I’m just worried about you. You’re alone a lot…it can’t be good for you.’

‘I'm with you.’ He says simply.

It’s not what she wants to hear. Vanya huffs and tries to sip her tea. She grimaces, and does her best to swallow it down. ‘I think it’s healthy for us to look for relationships outside what we have. I like spending time with you, but this can’t be forever, can it?’ 

Why not? 

 He thinks about forever as him and Vanya on her dining table. They talk about everything and nothing as she tries to swallow down another one of her disgusting teas. It doesn’t sound like a bad period of infinity to get stuck in. 

 She continues, ‘I know my therapist—she’s told me something similar, so I started to reach out to more people. I’m even, um, wanting to date...’ He freezes at that, his grip growing tight on his mug, ‘...even though I don’t have a soulmate. Anyway, I just don’t want you going crazy getting stuck with me all the time. You might miss your chance with someone because you were too busy spending all your time with your sister.’

Vanya tries to take another sip of her tea but he reaches out, places his hand on her mug and pushes it down. Her lips brushes briefly on his knuckles, and he tries not to think about how soft they are when he pulls his hand to his side. His fingers flexes beside him.

 ‘I’m not missing anything. I like it here with you.’ His voice is soft. ‘Besides, I’ve dealt with my fair share of people at my job. The world is crazy enough. The only reason I’ve kept myself half as sane is because of you.’ 

She smiles at him, pinks a little like she’s embarrassed. It’s cute. 

‘Do you want me to go?’ 

 She shakes her head, ‘No. I like spending time with you too.’ 

 ‘Good.’

 ‘I guess I was just kinda worried you think you’re stuck with me. It’s stupid now that I think about it.’

 ‘Well, we all have our moments.’ 

 She frowns at him and it makes him smile even further. 

He shifts in his seat and decides to ask before the question eats him alive, ‘So you’re dating now?’ 

 ‘Trying.’ She nods, ‘A friend of mine set me up with their cousin and I didn’t have the heart to say no. Honestly, I don’t think I wanted to. I thought I didn’t mind not having anyone, but lately I’ve been doubting myself. Wondering if I let the fact that I don’t have a mark get through my head that I can’t have anyone.’ 

Vanya shrugs sheepishly, ‘I guess I just want to know what it’s like to fall in love.’

 It surprises him. 

The first thought that comes is how vulnerable she lets herself be around him. How much of herself she fills and places on a silver platter just for him. It scares him. It fills him with pride. And he knows this is what love is like because Five is a bastard of a man but Vanya’s weakness renders him kind. He wants to wrap her in a shawl and kiss her. He wants to make it so she never has to apologise for existing ever again.

The second thought is why not him? 

 He thinks about all the years between them, the times spent between lunch and dinner he’s saved just for her. How much of his pride he swallowed when he made that long trek back to his seat at the dining table because Vanya shook her head no. 

He knows her better than anyone. She's the only one he'd ever want. Why couldn’t it be him?

It was then that he realizes she’s never loved him. Not in the way he's always wanted.

Not even a little bit.

——

Their date is that evening since her lessons are in the afternoon, which means Vanya’s not home and Five is stuck with the pleasure of his own company. It’s shit. He’s a miserable mess and he has been snapping at his students all morning.  

It’s fine, he thinks. It’s just a date. 

 Someone raises their hand for a question and he snaps and throws his chalk at them.

He tries not to think about someone else’s hands on her skin, touching her waist, kissing her and making her laugh. 

 He’s never kissed her before. He feels a bitter, murderous sort of resentment towards this mystery man who gets to do it first, and the friend who thought setting up the date was a good idea in the first place.

He probably doesn’t even have a job, he thinks. Much less made breakthroughs in time travel and quantum physics at 10. Or took out five people and rescued eight hostages while being completely unarmed in the span of a minute.

Hell, he probably can’t even transport himself half a mile in under a quarter of a second.

‘... it’d be fun to find out though‘ He chuckles mirthlessly.

 ——

Sulking in his apartment is not enough. The walls are getting too small, and all he could think about is the walls in her apartment and the way the shadows that falls on it belongs to her and a man that's not him.

He grabs a bottle, pulls himself up and decides to get wasted in the park instead.

This turns out to be a bad idea because it’s Valentines day which means the park is brimming with couples.

 The place looks like heaven. A hundred fairy lights wrapped around the park like a glittering thread. He watches the couples stroll by, their marks barely visible under the glow. When they twine their fingers together, they are like two lines finally connecting after a lifetime apart.

He wonders if he would ever meet his other half. If he’d ever become smitten with them like these people are. Hold their hand under the fairy lights and abandon the torch he held out for years just because the universe wants him to love someone else.

He doesn’t think he can. What could this other person give that Vanya couldn’t?

All he’s ever wanted was her.

(‘Love’, a cruel voice tells him and he chugs a big gulp of his bottle to wash the thought away.)

Its halfway through midnight when it begins to rain.

He didn’t bring an umbrella. 

The rain pelts at his skin relentlessly, the water soaking through his shirt. He shivers, chugs down his bottle, and keeps on walking.

‘Five? What are you doing here?’ 

 Vanya appears before him like a dream. Or maybe it’s the alcohol making everything swim.The lights are phasing in and out of each other, and all he could focus on is the way her hazy form looks so small in the rain and the fact that she’s wearing a dark dress he’s never seen before. He’s never seen so much of her skin.

 She’s pretty. He thinks stupidly. 

 'Jesus, Five you're gonna get cold like that.' 

 She hurries towards him, heels stomping across the mud. He barely registers the black umbrella she’s holding between them.

 ‘I’m fine.’ He grumbles. He tries to take another drink from his bottle but she quickly takes it away. 

‘You’ve had enough drinking.’ 

 He glares at her. 

‘I’m getting warm.’ 

Vanya frowns, placing the umbrella on the crook of her neck. She takes his hands. 

 It startles him. 

 ‘See?’ She says, ‘You’re freezing.’

She rubs his hand between hers and blows warmth to it. Years ago, this gesture alone would’ve had him melting, but now it’s not enough. Maybe it's the lights, or the alcohol… or maybe it’s her, but now he wants to know how she’d hold his hand like a lover. Even though her arm is bare and his is scrawled with the imprint of a stranger, he wants to find out if they’d fit like two puzzle pieces from different jigsaw sets. Not quite perfect, but maybe just enough to form their own set of a whole. One that's uniquely Five and Vanya’s and no one else’s.

 ‘Is that warm enough?’ 

 It’s sufficient. He should say, but he doesn’t.

 He wants so much more from her now.

 He leans down, places his forehead against hers and revels in the way her breath catches when he's close like this. 

 'Not yet.' 

He breathes her in. 

‘God, you’re so wasted.’ She scrunches her nose. ‘We should get you home.’

 She moves away and tugs him to his feet. 

 'Come on. I’ll take you to your place. It’s closer.’

 'I ….can walk.` He slurs, stumbling towards a tree. ‘Don’t need….’ 

 He feels her put his arm over her shoulder and press close to his side. She is so small that he almost topples them over, but her grip is firm. She holds on to him tight and he lets his weight sag over her as she leads them away.

 She drops him off to his place. It’s dark, and she has to fumble around his pockets for the keys. 

When she finally gets the door open, Five keels over, stumbling on carpet. Vanya swears and quickly pulls him back. His head feels like a log. She places him on the couch, arranging his limbs around him, careful as she can. She tries to move away so she could open the lights but Five grabs her hand before she could leave. 

‘Stay.’ 

 She frowns, ‘I have to open the lights.’

 ‘Leave it off.’ 

 He pulls her closer. 

‘I want you here.’ 

 Vanya purses her lips. She’s on top of him now, her knee pressed on the side of the couch and her other hand placed on the pillow beside him. Her hair fans out like a dark halo around her, he reaches up and tucks it behind her ear. 

 He’s drenched and bitter cold and she flinches when his finger touches her. Vanya looks at him, confused.

‘What are you doing?’ 

 There is so much he wants from her. 

 All these years and he still wants more than she could give.

He reaches up, brushes a thumb across her chin and wonders what it would be like to kiss her. Wonders if she could feel these 25 years between them spilling out of him like a geyser.

Literally. 

 Five throws his head to the side and vomits himself dry on the carpet. 

Vanya sighs. ‘I’ll go get some towels.’

He dreams about Vanya in her dark dress. She's twirling around him and it twists and spins with her, legs fumbling on her shoes and the skin of her thighs peeking out as she turns. Later, the dress pools at her feet like silk. She takes his head between her hands and pulls him down.

The kiss on his forehead is warm.

 ——

In the morning, the headache that he wakes up with is splitting and heavy all at once. It’s like someone stuck a whisk up his nose and scrambled the inside of his skull. He fumbles for the glass of water on the desk. He barely registers the fact that he's down to a shirt and cotton pajamas. 

The door opens and Vanya steps inside carrying a bag of groceries under her arm.

‘I missed my date, you know’ she sighs. She’s wearing his coat. She’s so ridiculously small in it that her fingers are barely peeking out of the sleeves. ‘You couldn’t have stayed home, or spent time with a friend or something instead of getting drunk? I had to cancel that and…’

He pulls himself to his feet and walks towards her.

‘Don’t want anyone else… they’re all incompetent.' He waves his hand. This headache is burning him alive. 'You're the only one around here that I could trust.'

 She flops her sleeves in frustration. 

She’s pissed at him, and he feels embarrassed of himself suddenly. He imagines himself sprawled across the couch, drunk out of his mind, while Vanya wipes him up and cleans the carpet of his vomit.

 He’s not sure why she stays. She’s never liked his drinking.  He wants to think that she stays because she cares, because she loves him the way he’s always wanted and she can’t stay away.

But if Five is anything, he can at least be honest with himself. She stays because he’s a sorry drunk and she’s too good for her own sake.

 She’s too good for him anyway.

‘Sorry.’ He says, sheepish. Not about the date (he’s never going to be sorry about that) but about everything else. He steps closer. The top of her head barely reaches his nose. ‘Thanks for taking care of me.’ He steals a quick, selfish peck on her cheek and moves to grab the groceries off her. 

‘I’ve got it. You need to rest. Come on.’ 

‘M’fine.’

‘Five…’ 

He tucks her hair behind her ear. 

‘Don’t do that.’ 

‘Do what?’ .

 She frowns at him. She can’t hold his gaze long enough. When she ducks her head, he leans down, takes the groceries from her hand. He can’t help himself so he kisses her on the temple too.

 Vanya is quiet. She rubs her cheek with a big, floppy sleeve. 

 He rummages around the plastic bag. There's frozen waffles and a couple of sachets of instant coffee. He takes the waffles and sticks it in the toaster. 

 ‘I’ll pay you for these.’ 

Vanya shakes her head, ‘It’s fine. You're still sick, you should get some rest.’ 

'And you're busy.' He glances at her. 'You've got lessons, remember. 10 o'clock.' 

 She hears her mutter shit under her breath. Of course, she's forgotten.

He turns back to his waffles. ‘Go back home, this headache isn't going to kill me.’

Vanya wants to protest. She opens her mouth and he turns to her and gives her a look before she could say anything.

She huffs. Tries again, clamps her mouth shut when she thinks against it. ‘Fine. But only because they’re expecting me. I’m coming back to check on you later.’

 He hears the door close behind him. She’s still got his coat around her. He chuckles to himself despite the headache. 

 She’s adorable

#fiveya #five x vanya #my writing #fanfic #i found this while i was looking through my old stuff and thought may as well post since its quite a lot actually #please dont judge me for my old writing............

[thehandsomeasshole]

@starttheanarchy from X

"And how efficient can it be in production and combat when the parts are poor to begin with? You go for quantity over quality and it shows." Sure it was mean to keep taking shots at robots that were designed more for warehouses then combat, but she couldn't be absolutely nice to the talking jackass.

"You really are not helping the point of how corporations are not evil when you just keep talking." And it makes a shiver roll down her spine at how easily he can just talk about killing other people, as if it was like they were his toys to destroy. It was on the same degree of glee she heard from psychos screaming about rib cages. At least they had the excuse of being driven insane.

Gaige lets out a whine at him mentioning the placement was for aesthetic, the inner engineer in her wanting to scream out all the reasons why that was poor choices. So many fixes that she could easily see in her mind, but she had to hold her tongue because she was not going to give ideas to the person who made it very clear he wanted all vault hunters dead. No matter how many ideas were popping up in her brain.

Nope.

And then he back onto talking about his robots over a rather annoying click that got herself moving once more. Something to work out the emotions so she could think through what was said and what to say. And hearing him accept her point that not once has she ever claimed to be the good guy, she smirked before it feel. Her pace increased in speed as she left the garage and headed to the back where the spiderants were. All while Jack was in her ear, trying to shake up her beliefs. Avoiding her actual questions.

She knew she needed to be somewhere no one else was since she knew she was about to get rather vocal.

"Well, I wouldn't say pissed off. More annoyed then anything else. " Hands stretch out before her as she splays out her fingers and collect her own thoughts. Far too many wanting out at once. "Lets work backwards here. Yes I do think about what I am doing, of what I am being told what to do. Most of which is fixing messes left behind by a lot of others, but you wouldn't know that since you only have a superficial view from above on what we are actually doing. Thus allowing you to paint your 'bandit' narrative over what we are doing."

Shoulder get rolled back as she keeps walking, her robotic arm flicks out and DT is digistructed before her. Spiderants clamber off in the distance. She rather not have to worry about her safety.

"And that isn't what I wanted as an answer. I want facts, give me an actual example of a time of someone who is marked down in history as a good person, as a hero, has done actions similar to your own. Not just old moral and philosophical debates, because those are what ifs and this isn't just a what if. This is the lively hoods of everyone on this planet, innocent or not."

And then a dry laugh escaped her lips as she worked her way to the last part of her rant. On him trying to make her feel some sort of doubt.

"And I'm sure the Crimson Raiders can do no worse then Hyperion on that track record. After all they weren't the ones that invited others to the planet only to blow up trains in the middle of the Frozen Wastes. One hell of a life experience sitting on a rather peaceful train when the boxes start turning into loaders that start firing immediately. Only for the world to go sideways because everything is exploding. Have you ever had to un-bury yourself out of snow filled with corpses both old and new? I never knew what that was like until I ended up on a Hyperion train."

"Well, duh. Of course it's quantity over quality, you know how many loaders we have to produce each day just so they can get their jobs done while you're destroying them? It's a lot, dum dum. So, thanks, for that." The last few words were laced with annoyance, though as he continued speaking there was no trace of it, "I'd love to see your little baking soda volcano of a robot do the stuff the loaders do. Really, I would. I think it'd be hilarious to watch it slowly crush itself trying to lift a shipping container from the loading bay all the way down into customs."

He didn't. It killed him a little inside whenever he had to see yet another one of his bots blown to kingdom come by some idiots. He just figured it'd be another step closer to pissing her off so bad she screamed and hung up.

"I know! Great, isn't it?" Jack laughed, clasping his hands above his head and stretching until he felt the little knot in his back relax, "Hey- If you're super lucky, I'll even tell you about the time someone from middle management didn't turn up to a meeting they'd requested. Bet you can guess how well that went. Let's just say he wouldn't be walking home to his wife and kids anytime soon."

"Ah, annoyance is close enough, right? Gotta love mildly inconveniencing people I don't like." Jack's brows raised. Wow. She was taking him super seriously. He'd already forgotten the majority of their conversation.

"No, trust me, kid. I'm fully aware of what y'all think you're 'actually' doing. It's just… bull, to put it lightly. Sure, maybe you just came to open a vault, get rich." He leaned in closer to the echo, "But what are you doing now, exactly? And no, I don't mean looking all pathetic like you always do and digging through scrap. I mean to get to the vault. Let me guess… Good ol' Lilith's got you doin' her grunt work, right? Running place to place, 'kill this guy!', 'get this thing or person!'. I just- I just know I'm right."

"Let's- Just let me pull up the definition of a bandit, m'kay?" Jack took barely a second to find it on the echonet, and he turned back to the echo, "Alright, here. A bandit is an outlaw, in this case you, who belongs to a gang, the Crimson Raiders, who operate in an isolated or lawless area, Pandora. So, tell me, princess… Where was I wrong? Or do big words just make your head hurt so darn much?"

"You know, your argument would make total sense. The whole… People's livelihoods… Thing… Except for the fact that nearly everyone down on Pandora would kill you and sell you for parts." Jack's expression darkened, and his tone grew serious, "There are people down where you are who'd do that to a kid. And you really think that they deserve to be spared? Do they deserve trust and respect? Or do they all deserve a big ol' moonshot to the face?"

He let out a breath, eyes flickering over to the paperwork stack in consideration, before they returned to the echo. 

"Oh, and I'm fully aware that isn't what you wanted as an answer. I just- I really do love being unhelpful. Especially with people who work with backstabbing bastards who've wronged me in some way or another." He shrugged slightly, "And, no. No, I won't be doing that. You wanna know why? Because no one's ever made an entire military composed solely of robots with AIs to try and fix a whole planet. You're just fueling the raging inferno that is my ego here, babe."

"But, trust me on this one. The Crimson Raiders can, and have done worse. They ever mention why exactly I want y'all dead? Or, did they sugar coat it and cry 'Jack is just bad!' at the top of their lungs?" He laughed, the sound growing even louder as she described the train events.

God, he wished he'd seen their faces…

"Sorta! Well, not in the snow. It was more, y'know, dirt." He seemed to space out a little after that thought, eyes on the echo but not particularly focused on it.

It took a while for him to zone back in, but when he did he continued with the exact same intonation and volume as before. 

"Anyway, y- you wanna try and take another shot at me? Or has your fragile little heart had enough?" Jack laughed loudly, and he finally made a move for the paperwork.

#ahaha i get you #it's definitely helped pull me out of my writer's block #it could've been paradise // borderlands 2

[iamleavingthisfandom]

a small fic for Valentine's Day. Rated T/PG-13, just 40yo reddie tenderness

Technically, they agreed to a no-gifts rule. Well, not a rule, more of a guideline, really. They agreed that Valentine’s Day was a dumb holiday, what with its consumerism, commercialization of showing affection, heteronormative standards, the idea that they needed to show their love for each other on specific calendar days when they did that all the time anyway – and all that jazz.

That didn’t stop Richie from getting stuck in front of a patisserie window playing chicken with a box of strawberry macarons he knew Eddie would love. After standing in the street for a while, he started getting weird looks from the passersby, so he decided, screw it, and walked into the front door. Immediately, he was hit with a powerful smell of pastry and sugary sweets that made his head spin. Next thing he knew, he was home with a large bag from the patisserie. He got, perhaps, a bit too much. Maybe buying two Danishes (one strawberry and one apricot), half a dozen cupcakes (hummingbird, strawberry, and lemon raspberry meringue, the last of which he chose purely on a whim because of how many words there were in the name and because he couldn’t connect them all together in his mind) in addition to the box of macarons that initially captured his attention was enough. Maybe it was more than enough. But he couldn’t help himself and bought a couple of éclairs, a box of assorted pastries, and some chocolate-covered strawberries as well. So when he came home, he decided to display everything he got. Eddie was well-known for his sweet tooth, and if he had any initial half-hearted objections to the sweets, seeing the variety was bound to make him leave his concerns about a ‘healthy diet’ at the door and let himself indulge for one night. By the time he heard the door to their apartment open, Richie had managed to set the table in the nicest way he could, a rose amidst the sweets and all. Eddie walked through the door, calling out to him, and started telling him something before he came into the kitchen and froze in his tracks. “Rich,” he said slowly, eyeing the pastries laid out on the table. There was no mistaking the excited glint in his eyes, though. “What the fuck are we supposed to do with all this?” “Eat?” Richie suggested, raising his eyebrow. Eddie groaned and dropped the bag he had been holding onto the counter. Somehow Richie hadn’t noticed it before, but upon further inspection, the bag was sporting the logo of one of his favorite restaurants. “I got takeout from that place downtown you like so much,” despite his annoyed tone, he was grinning, and Richie walked over to him and leaned down for a sweet kiss. He pulled Eddie close and felt arms wrap around his shoulders. “You did that for me?” Richie smiled when they broke the kiss. Eddie’s expression was softer now, and he was smiling, too. “Yeah, well, you did that,” he gestured towards the table, “for me. But that’s beside the point. What the fuck are we supposed to do with all this food?” “We’re supposed to watch anything your heart desires while gorging ourselves until we can’t move, obviously.” God, Richie’s expression must have been stupidly happy, but he didn’t care one bit, not with how gently Eddie was looking at him. “Obviously.” Eddie’s soft tone combined with that small happy smile of his left Richie breathless even on his best days. And now, as he was standing in the middle of the apartment he shared with the love of his life, both of them smiling at each other because neither could resist getting a lovely surprise for the other, despite agreeing not to? He couldn’t shake the feeling that he had somehow won the lottery of life, without ever deserving it. And he wanted to show it, too. Always did. So he stroked Eddie’s cheek with his thumb, smiling at him softly. “You make me feel like I’m the luckiest bastard alive, Eds.” Eddie raised his eyebrow in response, his smile morphing into an ever-so-slightly self-satisfied smirk. “Really? Because I’m pretty sure I’m the lucky one here.” Eddie's hand slipped to the back of Richie’s neck and he was tugged down into another kiss. He would definitely argue that he was objectively luckier, but his lips were otherwise occupied for the time being, and maybe that was just fine. Once they broke the kiss, all Richie could do was stare down at Eddie in wonder. “How are you even real?” Eddie just laughed lightly and patted Richie’s cheek. “Come on, the food will get cold,” with that, he left a peck on his lips and walked off to unpack the bag with the best Kung Pao Chicken in LA (in Richie’s personal opinion), leaving Richie standing there with the dumbest grin on his face. They spent the rest of the evening on the couch, Eddie’s legs swung over Richie’s lap, getting crumbs all over living room furniture while ‘Doctor Who’ played on the TV. And if they spent more time talking to each other and trying to get cupcake frosting on the other’s face than watching the show, that was just them. At the end of the night, Eddie didn’t even complain about how much leftovers they had (testament to the wonders sugary sweets could do to one’s character). “I’m so full,” Eddie groaned as he stretched where he was sat on the couch. Richie took the opportunity to run his fingers over his toned calf lightly, admiring Eddie’s gorgeous legs. He was met with a smile when he looked up and couldn’t hide his own. “Me too.” “Wanna make out?” Eddie raised his eyebrow, chuckling as Richie nodded a bit too fast and too eagerly. He stretched his arms out and Richie scrambled to knock him over with a fit of laughter from both of them and press their lips together through the small laughs. Eddie made a sound to get Richie’s attention again and tapped his shoulder, making him pull away. “If you lie down on top of me, I'll be sick, scooch off.” “The things I do for love,” Richie sighed melodramatically, making Eddie snicker, but still rolled off of him and let Eddie settle on his side and kiss him. It was slow and sweet, with none of the excitement and perfect romance he always imagined on Valentine’s Day when he was growing up. This was way better. They kissed and kissed, as if trying to make up for the years they lost, and it took them at least half an hour to separate. But when they did, Eddie cozied up into Richie’s side, Richie’s arm around him. “When did we become old and boring?” he sighed, his head on Richie’s chest and his fingers stroking patterns into Richie’s expanded stomach. “Around the time we decided that killing a demonic clown was more than our fair share of excitement.” Richie pressed a kiss to the crown of Eddie’s head. “But hey, if you’re concerned about that, I’ll totally rock your world in bed. Just give me a couple hours.” Eddie laughed and turned his head to meet Richie’s eyes. “Nah, I like being old and boring with you,” he patted Richie’s stomach gently. Richie could see love in his eyes and was probably looking back at him with a lovesick look of his own. “Yeah, me too,” he smiled and gave him another kiss before they both passed out on the couch. Maybe Valentine’s Day was overrated, but as long as they spent it together, it didn’t really matter.

#reddie #reddie fanfic #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #writing tag

[jaspers-levis]

Episode Ten

Tw: cursing, violence

Episode Ten: Just In Case

The rest of the hike that day was uneventful, although later that night in bed listening to the rain pour over your roof you replayed each smoldering glance, each casual contact of your hands. The impossible heat of his skin. The way he smelled of soap and a subtle earthiness you were halfway certain came from the wolf within. The way he showered you with playful affection, though it was clear at moments he was restraining himself from overwhelming you. As you fell asleep, you felt giddy with the idea of pushing him the next time he barely held back from kissing you.

Early morning light flooded your bedroom with a muted glow, waking you gently. You stretched lazily, contemplating the errands you needed to get done today and trying to gather up the energy to go into town and talk to other human beings. It probably wasn’t healthy to spend quite so much time alone in the woods… but then again you now had a new pack of friends. Technically you weren’t spending ALL of your time alone anymore.

Either way, it was still a pain in the ass to get yourself up, dressed and into your little-used car to drive into Forks for some groceries and to check the mail. You never used your actual mailbox in front of your house, preferring to use a PO Box just in case your ex got smart and figured out how to track you somehow. Honestly, you really doubted he would ever be that smart but it was another layer of protection. Just in case.

Walking into the grocery store, you pulled out a cart and began to shop with your headphones in. Apples, bananas, oh, blueberries were on sale, broccoli, kale, a bag of potatoes, loaf of bread, should I get donuts? Nah. Box of macaroni, bag of rice, can of beans. Maybe Mexican burrito bowls tonight? Package of chicken, tray of chuck roast--a familiar masculine scent cut through the typical disinfectant and food smells of the grocery store.

Your blood ran cold.

Frozen, you slowly turned, expecting to see a tall, dark shadow behind you.

Only an elderly man in his electric scooter patiently making his way around a display.

Your heart slamming against your ribs, you tossed the package of meat into your cart and rapidly finished shopping, opting for self check out rather than waiting in agony for the cashier to scan each item piece by piece. Practically running to your car, you chucked everything in in record time and sped over to the post office, checking your rearview mirror every three seconds for his car. Parking as close to the door as you could, you sprinted into the post office and snatched your mail out of the PO Box. You chucked it into your passenger seat, determining it was probably safer to sort through the contents at home rather than wait around for him to find you. Just in case.

You pulled onto the road that lead back to home, the dark pines lining the road reminding you of a strong embrace welcoming you back home. Breathing a little easier now that you were out of town, you checked your rearview mirror and saw an unfamiliar car with tinted windows and a rental license plate about a quarter mile back. No big deal, tourists went to the reservation all the time. At least, that’s what you tried to convince yourself.

It was a lot harder to convince yourself when the car turned onto the same roads as you, growing closer and closer.

Immediately you grabbed your phone and dialed Paul’s number without a second’s hesitation. “Hey, Y/N, what’s up?” he answered, sounding happy you’d called.

“Paul,” you whimpered, glancing at your review mirror to see that the car was only a few car lengths behind you. “I think my ex is following me. I thought I smelled his cologne in the grocery store, and now a black car is following me and I don’t know what to do--I’m scared.”

“Y/N, go to Emily’s, do NOT go home,” Paul ordered, his voice completely calm. An undercurrent of dark glee colored his next words. “I’ll deal with him. See you in a few.”

Hands shaking, you hung up and kept driving past the turn off to your house. You made it to Emily’s in what felt like record time, parking in one of the few spots available. Paul was standing outside, leaning against the rough hewn wood of the walls and he caught you as you threw yourself out of your car and into his arms. “Hush, babe, it’s okay. You’re safe,” he murmured into your hair, holding you tight for a second in the fortress of his embrace. He would never let anything happen to you, you reassured yourself.

Dread pooled in your stomach as the crunch of gravel signified another car arriving; Paul stiffened and gently disentangled you to push you behind him. “Can I help you?” he asked, voice cold as ice.

“Yeah, you sure can, buddy. Get the fuck away from my girlfriend,” the voice that had haunted your nightmares for months snapped and instinctively you shrank back against the wall. You couldn’t see much beyond Paul’s broad back trembling with fury, but you knew your personal demon was there ready and waiting to drag you back to hell.

“Not gonna happen my dude. You see, she broke up with you. That’s what her leaving you was,” Paul explained in a condescending voice. “Most girls don’t take off for a few months for no reason.”

“She’s just confused, aren’t you Y/N? Come on sweetcheeks, tell him,” your ex peered around Paul, hands spread to show his innocence. “I came all this way to take you home. I’ve been worried sick!”

“I’m not confused,” you said in a shaky voice, the surge of adrenaline giving you a sense of bravado. You moved beyond Paul’s protection to point an accusing finger at your ex for the first time in your life. Your heart was ready to escape the confines of your ribcage but it felt so freeing to finally stand up for yourself. “You were most definitely not worried sick, and I am not going back. Leave me alone!”

“Come on doll, don’t be like that. I said I was sorry,” he said plaintively, taking a step forward and grabbing your arm. Paul immediately stepped into him, and the man dropped your arm like it was a burning iron at the look on the werewolf’s face.

“Y/N said no. I suggest you back the fuck off and go home,” your protector growled, clenching his vibrating hands as his temper rolled through him. He angled his large body to put himself between you and your ex again, backing up so you moved back out of the way.

“What the hell is your problem, man? That’s MY girlfriend right there,” your ex shouted, shoving Paul’s chest. Which was the absolute wrong thing to do.

Paul loomed over him, on the verge of shifting. “Get out of here you fucking bastard. If I ever hear that you’ve set foot in the state of Washington ever again I will personally hunt you down and destroy you,” he snarled, panting heavily in an effort to control himself. Your ex tried to speak again and Paul punched him so quickly you missed the motion. He stumbled back, clutching his jaw and howling with pain. “LEAVE. Or I will break your fucking jaw.”

Your ex made a feeble attempt to hit back and Paul swiftly grabbed his arm and twisted, a grim smile catching at the corner of his mouth. “I told you man, get the FUCKING HELL out of here,” he warned again, and shoved your ex to his car. The bastard scrambled up, throwing himself into the seat and reversing out of the parking lot so quickly that gravel spewed everywhere. He was gone.

#wolf pack #paul lahote #werewolves #twilight #twilight wolves #twilight imagine #twilight imagines #paul lahote imagine

[iamkatehardy]

Only One (Alfie Solomons x Reader) - Pt 1

Request:  Anon: “Hello would you mind writing an Alfie who really likes this shy girl who works in some shop near him. She already has s boyfriend but Alfie doesn't care and goes to her work a lot just to get to talk & flirt with her but she always gets embarrassed and shyer when he flirts and he loves that. She catches her boyfriend cheating on her and now Alfie can make his move😉 could u use smut prompt list #64 #37 please you can change any of this however you need to whatever works for you.”

Warnings: Cursing ; Cute Alfie

A/N: I’m splitting this in 2 parts, because I don’t want you to wait any longer! There is no smut yet, I need to polish Alfie x Reader relation! 😏 

Leave your feedback, me and your favourite Jew will be very thankful!❤

  Only One (Alfie Solomons x Reader)

The role of the ideal housewife was never enough for you; you always wanted much more, to feel entirely fulfilled, and you thrived.

You had the work bug, plus your dexterity with the needles and creativity put most of the other dressmakers to shame. In no time, you had one of the busiest stores in town, so you expanded the business to serve your growing clientele, moving to a roomier shop in Camden Town and hiring an Italian tailor to be able to work with men’s clothing too.

Although it was a huge success, perhaps not everyone had noticed it yet. As one of the rulers of most part of Camden, Alfie Solomons used to pay local businesses a visit, not only as a reminder of who was in charge , but also most likely to demand a share, “for operating in his town”. Your turn hadn’t come yet; he was busy with his own expansion plans, involving a strategic partnership with some old friends, to make it through the crisis after the Italians’ attacks.

“I’m not sure I trust Elazar, but I have no choice, a’ight? Aside from him having a shitload of money, all the others are eating in his fuckin’ hand, for whatever reason. He’s not an honorable man, that’s one thing I’m sure about! Can you believe that cunt is even living in concubinage with some Shiksa?! (derogatory word for non-Jewish women) – In a sudden fit of anger and frustration, Alfie swept the paper off his desk with his left hand, throwing all the work of the past few days to the floor. His fingers ran through his messy hair in desperation, he couldn’t stand not have control.

“Alfie…” – Ollie bent down to pick the papers up and placed them on the desk again.

“Not now. Not today.” – The burning wrath in his eyes could reach a person’s soul in second, but he soon acknowledged the fact that the situation wasn’t Ollie’s fault. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes, his fingertips rubbing his throbbing temples. – “Why don’t you take the rest of the day off, mate? I can’t look at these anymore. We think about it tomorrow, with a clear head.”

Ollie merely nodded in assent, but when he was about to leave he turned to his boss again.

“Will you be ok?” – The hardships in Alfie’s life always made Ollie worry, almost like a son; despite the filthy temper and all the outbursts, Alfie was his mentor and they cared for each other.

“Stop worrying, little boy.”- Alfie chuckled lowly. - “Fuckin’ Solomons always find a way, even when it seems there isn’t any, innit?” – Narrowing his eyes, his hand came to his chin and he stroked his beard thoughtfully. -  “Now go, live a little. You’re at the right age for it.” – With a wave of his hands, Alfie shooed his assistant away.

“You should live a little too. Anyway, have a good evening.”

“You cheeky little…” – Alfie shook his head, watching him disappear in the distance, but deep down he knew maybe Ollie was right.

Maybe he should really live a little too, before it was too late.

After gathering his things, he grabbed his coat and left the office, heading outside. The street was busier than usual, more than he expected, as it was cold and getting later I the day.

“Hey! Come here, little boy.” – Alfie called a little kid over; children were honest most of the time and too young to be afraid of him, unlike most people in Camden.

The boy approached slowly. Eventually, he stood near Alfie’s feet. The gangster looked down at the kid, who was looking up at him with big innocent eyes. After searching in his pockets for a long time, Alfie held a wad of cash in his hand. With the other hand on his lower back to hold the pain, he crouched down until he was at the kid’s height and handed him a note.

“What is all this fuss about, little man?” – He knitted his eyebrows together, almost imperceptibly, pointing at the crowd.

“The store that opened down the street, I think.” – The kid shyly took the money out of Alfie’s hand, bowing thankfully.

“What kind of store?” – Alfie’s eyes narrowed.

“I’m not sure, Sir. But they give you chocolates; maybe that’s why people go there.” – The kid shrugged and Alfie couldn’t help quirking his lips up in response.

“A’ight, thank you for your help.” – Alfie rubbed the kid’s head and stood up slowly, with a groan of pain.

After stuffing the money on his pocket, the kid ran happily down the street.

“These bastards will learn the hard way to think twice before they do anything without my fuckin’ say-so!” – Annoyed, he cussed under his breath and moved faster, scanning the street for the new store.

The sky had turned black and the rain was starting to pour down heavily, but it didn’t stop him. Slightly limping down the street, his expression was menacing, it seemed as if he was determined to start a fight with whoever challenged his power; maybe he just wanted to take his problems out on somebody else, either way, it was the perfect excuse.

Finally he saw an unfamiliar elegant store and just stormed inside, looking really pissed. The furniture looked new and luxuriously comfortable and the collection of antique artwork that adorned the place seemed to be priceless. There was a soothing record playing and a pleasant floral smell on the air, that somehow made him go back to his childhood days.

The store was already closed by then; you were working on the sewing room in the back, to get a head start on next day’s work. When you heard the door open, you popped through the velvet curtains the two parts of the store.

Beholding the man before you, you smiled and approached the counter. It was after hours already, but you weren’t willing to lose a costumer.  His attire made you immediately think he was probably Jew by birth and upbringing.

“Shalom.” – You greeted him softly, and then cast your eyes down shyly, dropping your gaze to the ledge under your hands.

“Shalom.” - Alfie raised a brow as his eyes moved to you. – “I would like to speak to the owner, personally.”

“That’s me.” – When your eyes met, a smile formed on your lips and Alfie’s blood seemed to warm. – “How can I help you, Sir?”

All his courage to scold and fight the owner of the shop immediately disappeared. Rubbing his lids with the back of his hands, he stammered indecipherable words that sounded to you like Yiddish.

As you tilted your head, studying him, your eyes widened a bit and shone brighter than he had ever seen in his life. Noticing his soaked clothes and speechlessness, you wondered if maybe he just wanted shelter from the heavy rain and entered a random store. You picked up a towel and handed it to him, for him to wipe out his wetness.

“Thank you. Thank you, dove.” – He put his hat aside and took the towel, drying his head and face.

“Would you like a cup of tea, while you decide?” – You watched him drying himself and took the towel when he finished. - “Here, have a bonbon! These are kosher.” – Smiling encouragingly, you offered him a plate of assorted bonbons to choose from.

He put the candy in his mouth, letting it melt slowly.

“These are really sweet.” – He furrowed his eyebrows. – “But not as sweet as you seem to be.”

Although you opened your mouth, no word came out; you felt a furious blush flaming on your skin.

Trying to come up with an excuse for the situation he found himself in, he looked around him, letting out a loud breath and straightening his posture. Before saying anything else, he took another moment to watch your embarrassment, how your face was still burning in shame after the compliment; it was pretty adorable and it somehow amused him.

“I was wondering, do you sell hats here?” – He didn’t actually need the thousandth hat, but it was the first thing he came up with, so he’d stick with that excuse until he’d come up with something better.

“Yes, do you have anything in mind?” – Looking down to cover up the blush, you bit your thumb shyly.

“Lots of things, love.” – He came closer with a smile on the corner of his lips. - “As about the hat, something inconspicuous, but with a little style. Black, wide brim, preferably resistant.” –Shrugging, like the hat was actually no big deal, he constantly kept his eyes glued on you.

The first of his answer might have been innocent, but you blushed even more. No matter what words he spoke, his voice was enough to make a woman weak at the knees.

“I… I’ll see what I can get, just give me a minute. In the meanwhile, please, make yourself at home.” – You nodded to the sofas before you disappeared behind the curtains again.

He sat on the sofa and ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head and chuckling in a low tone.

“Composure, (Y/N), composure…” - In the backroom, you sat on the edge of a table and cleared your throat, putting your lightly shaky hand on your chest. After taking a sip of water, you searched in the boxes, trying to find those that met his requirements.

A few minutes later you returned with a half dozen boxes pilled in your hands and put them on the sofa, next to him.

“At the moment I have these. If you’d like something else, I can order it for you, it’ll take only a couple days.” – You gracefully sat on the arm of the couch, crossing your legs and arranging your skirt, before you opened the boxes one by one and started handing him the hats for him to try them on.

“How do I look?!” – Giving you a cocky smile, he turned his head to give you a profile view.

“Great!” – Leaning closer, you adjusted the hat into a slightly crooked position. – “Well, that’s more like it. Perfect.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” – Watching you with great interest, he blinked slowly. – “I’m taking them all.” – He took the hat off, putting it back in the box and got up, extending his hand to help you up.

Why the hell would someone buy so many hats that look almost exactly the same?

You looked at him in surprise and took his hand, getting up. Your hand lingered on his for a few seconds and the pad of his thumb rubbed your knuckles soothingly, sending a shiver through you, before you finally pulled it away, with a sheepish smile on your face.

“What name should I put on the receipt?” – You went behind the counter again.

“Alfred Solomons.” – Leaning against the counter, he paid for the hats and watched you write his answer down. He had gotten so close he could feel your warmth and your delicate fragrance with every intake of breath. – “But you may call me just Alfie, a’ight?”

“Deal.” – You gave him the receipt.

“It’s raining cats and dogs. I don’t think it’s a good idea to take all those boxes home in these circumstances, innit darling? Can I swing by tomorrow to get them?”

“Of course, Mr. Solomons.” – You intertwined your hands together and nodded cordially.

“Alfie.”

“I think you’re going to need this.” – You giggled and handed him an umbrella. – “So long, Alfie.”

“See you around…” – He tilted his head lightly to one side and lifted his brows. – “ Sorry, I don’t think I got your name.”

“(Y/N).”

“(Y/N).” – He nodded. – “A beautiful name for a beautiful woman, right?” – With a warm half-smile, he turned on his heel and left.

The next day, you waited for him to show up, constantly checking when a new client made it through the front door. It was half-hour to closing time and he still hadn’t shown up.

Alfie was at the bakery, in a meeting with Elazar, scrambling with last minute details on their settlement.

“Let’s make this quick, Elazar. I have an appointment, mate.” – He looked at his pocket watch to check if he still had time to go to your store; he did, but not much.

“Relax Alfie, I have an appointment too, maybe  two, or three.” – Elazar grinned maliciously.

“With your missus? Doesn’t count as an appointment.”

“Alfie, Alfie, Alfie… I wouldn’t expect you to understand, you’re not a ladies’ man after all, but your missus is your choice of pleasure if, and only if you have no other option available.”

“What… Excuse me?” – Alfie put his glasses down, giving him a nasty look.

“Think of a relationship as if it was just any other business; if you have the chance to have some side action and make a profit, you go for it, without blinking an eye.”

“How can you fuckin’ do that, mate?!” – Slightly irritated, Alfie swung his arms on the air.

“It’s really quite simple; women are very naïve when it comes to love.” – Elazar proudly started explaining. – “Tell her you love her and she’s the only one; make her believe that and she will be at your feet, which will basically make her buy any excuse you come up with. But keep her busy, so she won’t have much time to think about them, some women are smart enough to figure out the truth … Give her a small business, or let her teach little orphans, something like that. Use your imagination! Propose to her, if necessary, it will keep her in your hands until you are done with the little brat and find a better one.”

“I wasn’t asking how do you do it! I was asking how you can be such a cunt, actually. You give a woman goods and she will give you a heart cooked meal… You give her your house and she will make it your fuckin’ home… You give her your fuckin’ cum and she will return you your offspring! If you give her some affection, she will give you her fuckin’ heart! What is wrong with you?!”

“What is wrong with you, Alfie? That’s why you don’t get any action. Have you gone soft or what?”

“No, I simply respect women!” – Alfie’s unblinking eyes were fixed on the man ahead and his jaw was tight. – “You know what? If it’s alright with you, we can finish this another day.”

“As you wish. Call me later and let me know when.” – Elazar promptly picked his things up and left.

“What has this world come to? Thank you for everything  eema. (Mom, but I’m not sure of this) “ – Alfie pressed a hand to the medallion in his chest, before he checked his pocket watch again and hurriedly left the bakery, heading to the flower shop.

 Tag List: @carmen-kray , @titty-teetee , @iv-nyc , @but--dear-this-is-not-wonderland , @eap1935 , @ellar21 , @tiredoffeelinglost , @original-krays , @marvelgirl7 , @captstefanbrandt , @evilispretty-dead , @mollybegger-blog , @bignastyfan-nz , @scarrasco1325-deactivated201905 , @miidailyinspiration , @harleyquinns , @haroldpain , @marvelslut16 , @willowick13 , @outofbluecomesgreen , @elemeph , @my-little-lucky-scissors , @overitall2018 , @innerpaperexpertcloud , @matoki-darkpanda

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[jay-and-dean]

What he deserves

This story had been written by @holylulusworld and @jay-and-dean together. As we can’t make one post with two autors on Tumblr, the fic is availiable on both our pages, the comments will be read by the author of the page you are on, you can go on both of course, enjoy.

Summary: Jody knows Dean is cheating, and now she’s going to tell his girlfriend.

Pairing: Dean x Reader, Jody, Sam, Castiel

Warnings: angst, mention of cheating, fluff.

Want to read more ? => @holylulusworld ‘s MASTERLIST

                                  => @jay-and-dean ‘s MASTERLIST

Words : 5k

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Jody's Pov (by @jay-and-dean)

           I like Y/n, and, of course, I like Dean. They are both my friends, hell I sometimes feel like I'm an aunt or a stepmother. I'm the one she calls for private things, almost like a mother, like that time her periods were late and she was freaking out... And Dean, he literally saved me, made me who I am today... I would take a bullet for any of them and that's probably why this is so hard.  

           I don't want to be the one breaking her heart, the one making their happiness shatter. Hell, I'm not even sure I want Dean to fall back into the darkness he lived in before Y/n, even if he seems to deserve it.  

But Y/n... she deserves better.  

           He never lied to her, why do it now? Why would he hide in the kitchen between dishes to answer his phone during dinner at my place? Saying things as cliché as "I can't talk to you right now, Y/n is in the next room"... Why, after he spent so much time texting, would he react like a teen when I take his phone to call Sam? Why ask me to spend the day with his girlfriend, pretending he needs time to do shopping, making me swear to not tell her? He's hiding something to her, to all of us. I hate this bastard for making me lie to her... I caught at least five or six strange behaviors like this and now I'm sure of it.  

           Dean is cheating on her.  

           I have to be absolutely sure though, because this is too serious. Y/n and Dean... It's the best thing that ever happened to the Winchester brothers, to all of us : finally seeing Dean happy, and little-orphan-Y/n bloom in his arms. Even Sam and Cas found a new balance and peace, knowing Dean is not self-destructive anymore...                

           The Impala is here, parked in front of a building, I stop my car and wait. I have to be careful, Dean is a hunter, he will feel it if he’s being followed. I stay in the car and check my phone, I tracked his, he didn’t even try to block his phone signal, what if Y/n had the same idea?  

           He finally gets out of the building and my heart drops. A pretty blond girl is with him, I was right. She laughs at something he said and he seems so relaxed, I can’t see a hint of guilt on his face. How can he do this to Y/n? She loves him so much, she sacrificed so much for him!  

           He opens the door for her, smiling like it was the best day of his life and they leave together, that girl’s ass on the spot Y/n spend so much time, following him around in his damn car, just to be close to him…  

           With shaking hands I call Y/n, I can’t tell her on the phone but she deserves to know.  

“Jody? Is everything okay ?” she answers.  

“Yeah…” I lie. “Is Dean with you ?”  

“Nope, he left before I woke up this morning, I don’t know when he will come home, he didn’t say” she states with a smile in her voice, how can she smile? Is she that naive? “Why ?”  

“I just… I’m on my way home…”  

“Okay, nice, I made a pie. Dean will be so happy when he comes back”  

Yeah, I don’t think so…  

“Y/n, just… Is everything okay between you two ?” I ask trying not to sound too sad.  

“Yes, of course, Jody” that smile again in her tone, it’s like she was smiling each time she thinks of him and it breaks my heart to know soon she’ll cry instead. “Why that question ?”  

“I’m just checking on you, you know me” I fake a smile swallowing hard.  

Meanwhile, Dean’s POV, Jody’s place… (by @holylulusworld)

I’m nervous, excited…I can’t even explain my feelings. I love Jody’s food, I really do but right now I can barely concentrate on a conversation or her food.  

I need to call her, need to be sure she will not forget our appointment, so I send her a message once again. A few moments later I receive an answer and I smile, and my smile grows when another message arrives with a picture of the thing I want the most.  

The ring, the ring for the woman I love. I want to send her best friend another message but then Jody asks me if I can borrow her my phone so she can call Sam.  

I hesitate, I would do anything for Jody, hell even risk my life. This woman is almost like a mother to me and Sam, cause my own mother never was a real mom.    

But right now, I hesitate to handle her my phone, too afraid she could read the messages I send Jennifer, Jen, my girlfriends’ best friend since high school.  

I want to surprise Y/N, she deserves perfect so only Sam knows about my plans, of course, he knows he’s my brother, the person I trust the most, well except Y/N.  

She owns my trust, my heart for years and now I want to show her how much she really means to me. I blink a few times, looking unsure at my phone and then at Jody and her look is unreadable so I handle her my phone, hoping she won’t see the picture of the ring or read my messages.  

I can’t let anyone ruin my surprise, my proposal. Y/N deserves perfect. Jody could ruin it with one word, I can’t risk it, Y/N is right next to me.  

Relieved I get my phone back, Jody only called Sam and didn’t say a thing to Y/N. I can see another message from Jen. Maybe something’s wrong with the flowers, or the ring?  

I need to call her, texting her again would make Y/N or Jody suspicious, I mean Y/N is smart. She would see through a lie; she can almost read me like a book, so I grab the plates to excuse myself to do the dishes as my phone already begins to ring.  

I look around and answer Jen’s call, whispering so no one can hear me, and it’s the right decision as I hear Jody walking toward the kitchen, maybe Y/N is on her way too so I whisper my words to tell Jen that I can’t talk to her right now as Y/N, my girlfriend is in the next room.  

Her friend giggles and assures me everything is working according to plan, but we must meet tomorrow as her boss won’t let her take the day after tomorrow off, so I tell her we meet at the shop and end the call.  

Now I got a problem, Y/N is here, and I need to meet her friend to talk to her about the ring and how to do the perfect proposal. I see Jody enter the kitchen and an idea pops up into my mind.  

“Hey, Jody can you spend the day with Y/N tomorrow? I got some shopping to do but please don’t tell her I ask you. I would’ve asked Sammy but he ain’t around.” I say hoping Jody will help me out.  

“Sure, Dean. Why not?” She answers and I smile at her. Of course, she helps me out, Jody is the best.  

----  

I get out of the Impala and my heart beats a mile in a minute. I’m nervous as hell and I got no clue why, well I know why but this doesn’t help me taming my heart right now.  

Jen is great at her job as a wedding planner, she will know what’s the best I tell myself, as Y/N deserves the best.  

Almost running toward the jeweler, I glance over my shoulder as I got the feeling someone is watching me, imagining things might be a side effect of being in love. I shrug and enter the shop to meet with my partner in crime.  

“Finally,” Jen says smiling and I simply nod, too nervous to say anything I let her lead me toward the goal, the ring we chose together. It’s a simple one, silver, as Y/N doesn’t like gold.  

“You think this is the right one?” I ask, finally finding my voice.  

“It’s perfect Dean, you know that. Y/N will love it for sure. Look at the pretty little diamond. This one is her style. Just relax and everything will be alright.” Jen says and I calm down a bit.  

A few moments later I pay the ring with the money I spared, no fake credit cards this time. I want to give my girl something I bought with my own money. The clerk handles me the little box with the precious treasure and I smile at Jen.  

She follows me out of the store, and I lead her toward my car as she needs to help me pick the right flowers. I know Y/N loves every kind of flower, but I want to do this right.  

“Do you think she will say yes, or reject me? I mean what if I do it wrong? What if I stammer?” I ask Jen and she starts laughing.  

“Dean, she will marry you even if you mess up the whole thing.” Jen answers and I smile at her. I don’t like lying to Y/N, I lied for over two months by now, but it will worth the secretiveness, in the end, so I shove the guilt away.  

My hands are slightly shaking as I open the door for Jen, and she takes place in the passenger seat. Just one more stop and I can prepare everything, I can finally ask Y/N is she wants to be my wife…    

Jody’s Pov, the bunker (by @jay-and-dean)

Dean didn’t even come back to my house to come and pick Y/n, he just called, saying he was next to the bunker and that we should just join him… Since when Dean doesn’t pick her? I mean, they’re inseparable.  

           But Y/n didn’t react, she seems so innocent, not seeing what is happening at all. She just smiled and said “We should hit the road then, I already miss him”, and my heart broke.  

           The minute we enter the bunker she sighs, putting her bag on the glowing table of the war room, she looks around.  

“It’s good to be home,” she says, tired of the three hunts in a row they solved before visiting me. “Hey baby ?” she calls now.  

I kind of hope he’s not here, I don’t know how I am supposed to look at him in the eyes, knowing he just had sex with a pretty blond girl…  

           Then I see her face when he doesn’t answer. Like Christmas had been cancelled, like this wasn’t really home after all.  

How can he do this to her? No one has ever loved him like she does. She has seen all of him and loved each messed up part of that man; she even told him for the first time while he had the Mark of Cain. She never tried to change him but did it a little anyway, in the best way: Dean is not that self-destructive anymore, he’s not ready to sacrifice anything now, he is happier. He doesn’t drink that much, even if she never told him anything, they just drink together when they do. Smiling, I remember that night I found them beyond drunk together, laughing like crazy for no reason until Y/n needed to puke and he held her hair for hours. That’s how they are, that’s the effect she has on him.  

Y/n deserves better, but when she breaks up with him, I fear we will lose Dean for good. How I wish I just didn’t know…  

           The main door grates and her face lights up.  

“Oh great you’re here,” Dean says entering and she starts to climb the stairs to join him.  

She nestles in his chest and he kisses her forehead. Doesn’t she smell another woman on him?  

“So no kiss ?” that bastard dares with a grin.  

And she lifts her head to kiss him with passion, her hands in his hair; it’s like they’ve been together for a week… since 2014. I have to look away, I can’t stand the pain I may be about to inflict, I wish Sam was here, he would understand what I’m going through, maybe even tell me what to do.  

           Then a thought crosses my mind, what if Sam knows? He’s really smart and knows his brother by heart, there is no way he never heard or seen things like I did. It would mean he chose to stay silent… I just really don’t know what to do.  

           Then Dean hugs me and I can slightly smell a perfume on him, I could punch him right now.  

“Thank you” he whispers in my ear. “So Jody, you can have Y/n’s former bedroom,” he says loud now. “Unless she kicks me out of our bed tonight” he jokes but I can’t laugh.  

“Why would she do that, Dean ?” I say seriously, looking in his eyes.  

His wide smile fades but he seems confused.  

“I don’t know if I’m staying” I add, looking down.  

“Yes you are, there is no way you drive hours back without getting some rest, and Sammy will come back soon, I know he would love to see you” he states with that husky voice he takes when he is using authority.  

           Dinner is an ordeal, I try not to cry when I see the way she looks at him, like every word he spoke was poems. I notice everything now: the light touches and the stolen pecs on her lips, how can he be so good at lying?  

           I know Dean has always had a lot of conquests but I thought Y/n was different for him, I thought he wouldn’t need one-night stands, pornstars and slutty waitress anymore…  

           His phone rings. I look at him hesitate to answer, he is not going to do it, right? She’s right there, I mean can’t he just be with Y/n completely just tonight?  

           Y/n gets up and asks me if I want an ice-cream, I shake my head, still watching Dean stare at his phone.  

“Chocolate and cookie dough ?” she asks Dean, kissing his jaw.  

He nods and she leaves the room to get him his fucking ice-cream while he looks at the glowing screen of his damn phone.  

           Frowning, he finally answers. I can’t believe it!  

“Sammy ?” he says but I can hear a female voice answer.  

“Dean? You’re with her ?”  

“Yeah I’m eating with Y/n and Jody, is there something wrong? Tell me nothing’s wrong” he says getting up to move away from me.  

           I don’t hear the woman answer but when Y/n comes back with ice-cream and a radiant smile, putting a hand quickly on his heart while she walks past him, I make my decision: That can’t last, it’s too cruel. She deserves the truth even if I have to be the one breaking her heart.  

Meanwhile, Dean’s POV (by @holylulusworld)

I look at my watch and curse. The appointment with the florist took longer and I had to drive Jen home. Now there’s no time left to make it to Jody’s place and prepare everything for the proposal tomorrow.  

I don’t want to do it later. I want to make the proposal tomorrow, so I do the only thing I can do, I call Jody.  

She answers her phone after the second ring and I got the feeling she’s not happy to hear me. I got no clue why maybe I said something wrong? Anyways I think and ask her to drive Y/N back to the bunker. I want all the people I call my family around when I finally ask the woman, I love to become my wife so it’s two birds with one stone.  

I hate that I can’t pick her up, hate that I won’t see her for another six hours but I need to hide the ring. Need to call Jen to make sure she will bring the flowers and everything else in time.  

----  

Finally, back at the bunker I run toward my room, no our room and put the ring into one of my socks, hiding it underneath the bed.  

Checking my messages, I can’t hide my smile. Jen wrote I shall take deep breaths; everything is under control. I could kiss her right now but I would never do so. My kisses are reserved for Y/N alone.  

I check my watch again and then I remember I need to get the champagne. Damn, now I have to leave the bunker once again to get it from the store in town. But Y/N isn’t back yet, so I can make it in time.  

----  

Champagne in the trunk and some pie for the ‘after’ party in my cooling box I drive back into the garage. My heart beats faster as I can see Jody’s car. Y/N is already back and I can’t wait to see her.  

It was only half a day but still, I’ve missed her so much. Since we became a thing all these years ago, we were never apart for longer than a few hours. Well except during my ‘I’m a big bad demon’ time.  

I need to show her how much she means to me. That only she makes my life brighter, better…gave my life a sense.  

I see her running toward me and my heart beats faster and my smile grows.  

Jody’s Pov, the bunker (by @jay-and-dean)

           It’s time. Dean said he was going to take a shower but at this point I don’t believe him anymore. I’m sure he’s calling that girl again, or another, who knows, nothing surprises me anymore.  

           Y/n is in the kitchen, she’s cleaning I don’t know what. My heart is so heavy it hurts, I wish I didn’t know, but I do…  

“Y/n ?” I call with a shaky, unsure voice.  

“Ah Jody! Do you want coffee, tea? Anything? Only Dean isn’t allowed to drink coffee at night… I have to make sure he sleeps” she smiles lovingly.  

“Listen Y/n, I have to talk to you alone…”  

She turns, looking suddenly a little worried.  

“Is everything okay Jody ?” she asks, wiping her hands in a towel.  

“Not really…” I clear my voice. “Listen Y/n, you know that I love you, you’re family, so believe me I hate to be the one saying that but…”  

She frowns and I can see she swallows hard. I try to calm my trembling mouth.  

“… Dean is cheating on you, Y/n. I just… I thought you deserved to know.”  

Her face relaxes. I thought she would be freaking out but now I’m confused, it’s like she’s relieved that I said that. She smiles kindly.  

“No. He isn’t” she states, and I understand now that she’s in denial.  

“Yes, Y/n… Listen I’m sorry but he is” I try but she lifts her hand like she was forbidding me to talk more.  

“No, Jody, Dean is not like that. I don’t know what you think you heard or saw, but you’re mistaking” she says stern.  

Of course she’s mad at me, I’m a bird of ill omens.  

“I’m sorry…” I try but she seems mad now, her face is cold and she doesn’t let me talk.  

“Jody” she cuts me. “Dean is not a cheater. Why do you all think he is ?” her voice is a little louder now.  

“Come on, Y/n, you know I love Dean but he’s…”  

“NO !” she almost yells now.  

Taking a deep breath, she looks down.  

“I know who he is, and obviously I’m the only one really seeing through him… Listen… Dean had a lot of conquests, I mean, he is stunningly handsome and stayed single most of his life… Why is it so surprising for all of you that he would have a few one night stands? I ever heard a hunter calling him a manwhore once! My baby! Would I be a whore too if I decided to live my life as a single woman, and sometimes relieve some pressure with a nice guy ?” her voice is clear and sure, I try to open mine but she shakes her head. “Dean never cheated.”  

           I sigh and she catches my eyes, they’re sad but not scared. There is something so assured on her face that I know I have to talk to her about the girl to make her change her mind.  

“I saw him…” I try and she puts the towel down, taking a step toward me.  

“Listen to me Jody: Dean is not cheating on me. I trust him with my life and he said he would never hurt me.”  

“How can you be so sure you don’t even listen to me !” I half shout half whisper.  

“Did Dean ever cheated on a girl ?” she asks harshly. “Did he cheat on Lisa? He didn’t. He wasn’t even sure to be in love with her, he was sad and in a desperate place because Sam was gone, he drank a lot back then… I mean he could have done anything but he never cheated on her. Even when he went back to hunt with Sam he never touched another woman until they were done for long. You know why? Because Dean is not a cheater !”  

She points her finger at me and I know she is right, I never thought of it this way but now I see it, he actually never did… Still, I saw what I saw. I try to open my mouth again but she continues.  

“Did he ever lied? Huh ?” she frowns. “Did he ever got a woman by promising her something he couldn’t give? They all do that, Jody! Say they’re in love or that they want to get to know you better, only to drag you in their bed hours later and never call… He never did that! Dean always told the girl he’s been with that it was for the night. Hell Jody I know that… Remember how long I stayed in his gravity, seeing him hit on girls… I saw that dozens of times. He. Never. Lied.”  

I look down and take a deep breath. I call her name to make her listen but she cuts me again.  

“You let me finish now. Jody… He even told me. The one night thing he told me the first time! That he didn’t want me to think he could be my boyfriend… God he’s so damaged! After he told me he loved me it took me two years to make him stop thinking he didn’t deserve to be with me. TWO YEARS !”  

Tears fill up her eyes. While a single tear falls on her cheek, she bites her lower lip, then wipes it away. She looks so strong. I really hope she’s right because she’s perfect for him, tough just where he is broken.  

“Dean is the more loyal person the two of us have ever met. Every single person in his life let him down at some point, and he’s still there, trying to protect everyone from everything” she looks up and shakes her head. “He deserves better.”  

“You’re right” I finally manage to say, trying to make her listen to me. “But I saw him with another girl, and he…”  

“No” she says. “Stop Jody, listen, I really love you and I know how much you love Dean but you can’t keep accusing him, you’re mistaking. You know how he works, even when he’s done nothing wrong he convinces himself he deserves the unfair things people say about him. I’m tired of trying to convince him he is worthy of love, it breaks my heart” she pauses and stares at me. “Dean is not cheating on me. I trust him and we tell each other everything, I’m sure if I ask him who that girl is he will just tell me right away… But I won’t ask him, because other way he will know you thought so low of him, and it would hurt him. Just trust me, Jody.”  

Meanwhile, Dean’s POV  (by @holylulusworld)

The shower is refreshing and I got some time to think about all the things I have to do till tomorrow. Jen will bring flowers and decoration. Sam is on his way back with my black tuxedo and his own.  

Jody is already here and Castiel is on his way back to the bunker with Sam. I had to tell my angelic friend about my proposal this morning as he was curious about Sam’s behavior.  

Anyways, Claire will be here soon along with Donna and Alex. Hell, I even invited Garth and Bess to come around. Of course, everyone believes I want to throw a party, they don’t know about the proposal. Not yet.  

I step out of the shower with a bright smile on my face and grab my clothes. I brought the ring with me into the showers, I don’t want Y/N to find it accidentally and ruin the surprise. She deserves the best.  

One last glance I tell myself opening the box with the ring I chose, I hope she will love it as much as I love her. Closing the box I put it into the pocket of my sweats to hide it till I can bring it back to our room.  

I leave the showers and that’s when I hear it. Y/N is raising her voice while Jody almost whispers. I don’t know why my girl is upset but I know this tone. She only used it once, to defend me against Bobby.  

Rushing toward the kitchen to find out the reason for the argument I stop in my tracks when I hear Jody something I never thought is possible. “But I saw him with another girl…” Jody says, and I feel like someone just ran me over with a car.  

My hands are shaking, and I can’t find my voice. I believe Y/N will leave me now. Why should she believe me instead of Jody? I was never in a real relationship before…I can’t see anything but my girlfriend looking at Jody for a brief moment.  

I don’t hear or see Sam walking toward the noises. I can’t see the shocked face of my baby brother hearing Jody says I cheated on Y/N. I don’t see Castiel looking at Sam shaking his head. I can’t see the confidence on Sammy’s face knowing I would never cheat on her.  

I want to turn around, go to our room and break down, but then something happens…Y/N is defending me. I step closer and see the confidence all over her face. She’s defending me…she believes in me. Tears well up my eyes hearing her saying all these things about me.  

The woman I love believes in me like no one before. “Every single person in his life let him down at some point...” Y/N says and finally, I find my voice.  

“Not every person.” I choke out and Jody turns around with a hint of disgust in her eyes. But I barely recognize her as Y/N smiles at me. “You never let me down,” I add and she rushes toward me to move her arms around me.  

“Then enlighten us, Dean. Why were you meeting another girl?” Jody spats and I flinch at her harsh tone.  

“Jody, don’t. Dean can explain everything…tomorrow.” Sam tries but Jody shakes her head. Anger coloring her features she glares at me.  

“I saw you, I heard you. Care to explain?” She says and I know I got no other choice. My body is tense, and Y/N feels it so she lets go of me. I fall to my knees looking up Y/N and she seems to be confused.  

I need a minute to process my surprise just got ruined. All the preparations are wasted time by now, but I don’t care. I need to prove Y/N her faith was justified so I pull the box out of my pocket to hold it out.  

Seeing the ring box in my hand Jody falls silent immediately. Her eyes dart between me, Sam and Y/N. Finally realizing she destroyed a lovingly planned proposal she starts shaking. She wants to say something but Castiel shakes his head.  

“Y/N, this is not the way I wanted to propose to you. Jen and I planned it for weeks and she will kill someone in this room for sure, but I got no other choice. I love you; I adore you. You are the person who never gave up on me, who always believed in me. Just minutes before you proved my trust and love in you is justified. Would you Y/N, Y/L/N give me the honor of becoming my wife?” I ask with shaking hands and she looks down at me in awe.  

There’s silence for a minute as if everyone is holding their breath. I swear this moment is the hardest in my whole life. The moment before I hear her shout a loud ‘yes’.  

I try to fumble the ring out of the box and fail, but as always Y/N is there to help me with something I can’t do on my own. She places the ring on my hand so I can put it on her finger, and it matches perfectly. Just like we match perfectly fine.  

Her eyes are filled with tears, but tears of joy. I get up to move my arm around her waist to pick her up as I did it a hundred times before. Her arms wrapped around my neck she kisses me softly, a smile still on her lips.  

I hear my brother and Castiel clap their hands and then someone knocks me on my shoulder. I don’t know who as I’m too busy to process that the woman I love agreed to spend the rest of her life with me…

***Feedback is gold <3***

Forever Tags :  @parinarain @animegirlgeeky @mogaruke @masterof-agony @rainflowermoon @tftumblin @deans-baby-momma@roonyxx@animegirlgeeky  @thefaithfulwriter@parinarain@vicariouslythruspn@emeow1496@daryldixonandfrogs @holylulusworld  @cocklesbelli@sandlee44 @mogaruke@masterof-agony @paradoxical--intentions

#dean winchester #SPN #spn fic #supernatural #angst #fluff

[twdfanfic-multifandom]

Daryl x Daughter!Reader (requested)

Requested by AO3 user: Daryl runs into his daughter on a run for Alexandria and is confused as to why she seems to hate him so strongly.

Warning: User requested the story to include the reader being a pyromaniac and schizophrenic.

****

Snarls filled the air as your heart beat so fast you were sure it was going to explode in your chest, just like a ticking bomb.

Flames licked at the grotesque creatures that filled the barn, and you knew this was it. The fire was spreading quickly and there was no escape. Both exits of the barn were no longer viable; each blocked by what looked like hundreds of the undead, and their numbers were increasing.

Turning from the edge of the platform, you directed your gaze to Hershel's overrun farm. In the distance, you could spot your friends fighting for their lives - Glenn, Beth, Lori, some others. Your father was nowhere to be seen.

Fingers curled into determined fists of rage, you yelled as loud as you could towards anyone who could hear you.

"Help! Somebody help me!"

The heat seemed so much more intense, and you suddenly realized that the upper level of the barn was now on fire. The flames would soon reach you.

"Dad!" Hot tears streamed down your dirty face as you screamed for Daryl and smoke entered into your lungs, burning and scratching at the tissue. But no one came.

Choosing to be brave, you turned around to face the flames hungrily consuming the wood around you in loud crackles. Flames leaped and danced around you, and the orange tongues licked at your skin.

***

Your body jerked awake and you gasped for air, clutching at your smoke-filled throat. Except it wasn't filled with smoke. You were fine.

The door of your room slowly opened as a man carefully poked his head in; even in the darkness you could see the concern on his face.

"You okay there, y/n?" Negan asked softly as he padded his way quietly to your bed, sitting on the edge beside your feet. His white shirt seemed to glow in the darkness, as if it were under a blacklight. You nodded slightly.

The dreams didn't occur nightly, but the events of that night on Hershel Greene's farm haunted you daily. Standing in that barn, screaming for help - you'd never felt more alone. And nothing hurt more than when you saw your father making his escape on his motorcycle, Carol clutching him desperately from behind as they rode away. He'd abandoned you, just as everyone else had. They'd left you to burn in the barn you'd initially run into to save Carl and Rick.

You absent-mindedly rubbed at the raised and bumpy surface of your scarred skin, traces of where the fire had eaten away the flesh on your neck, arm and torso.

"It's okay, kid. You're safe," he said caringly.

By some miracle, the flames hadn't totally burned your body to a crisp - you'd managed to escape, eventually dragging yourself into an old furniture store some way from the farm, where the Saviors had found you. After a 'Holy shit, kid. What the hell happened to you?' followed by a charming white smile, you'd been under Negan's care - and you were grateful. He treated you well, clothed you, fed you, kept you safe. You knew how he forced other people and communities to give half of their supplies to the Saviors, but that didn't matter. He did it to provide for people; he did it to survive.

"Can I go out tomorrow?" You asked, your voice heavy with sleep. Negan sighed and placed a hand on your leg through the thick comforters.

"You wanna burn shit again?"

You nodded in response. It was the only thing that seemed to lift the heavy veil that fell over your heart after the bad dreams. Creating your own flames, controlling them so that they couldn't hurt you... It gave you a sense of power and satisfaction. It also stopped the voices.

"Shit, kid. Soon there's gonna be nothing left," Negan chuckled, but you knew he was okay with it. He was an understanding guy. At face-value he probably seemed like a narcissistic asshole, and you saw that side too sometimes, but that was just the outer layer. He was like a Russian doll.

"Get some rest," he instructed and you obeyed, hoping the dreams would stay away the second time around.

****

"Want me to come with you?"

You shoved a piece of freshly baked bread in your mouth, courtesy of one of the workers. It was still warm, making you moan slightly. You looked at Simon, shaking your head in response.

"I'll be fine," you said while gesturing to to the gun and machete attached to your belt. You'd done it a million times before.

He has to come with. Tell him to come with, otherwise you'll die. You'll die.

No! He can't come. He's trying to kill you. He's trying to get you alone so he can kill you.

You rubbed your fingers against your temples, head jerking suddenly and violently. "Stop it," the words just tumbled out of your mouth, a futile attempt to silence the voices. Simon frowned a little, his thick eyebrows furrowed. Only a few people knew about your schizophrenia, which you were grateful for, but those who did know always shot looks of sympathy or sadness your way. It made you feel weak.

"Don't look at me like that," you snapped harshly, despite knowing that Simon had good intentions. He raised his hands in the air defensively before muttering an apology.

"Cool. Take the walkie-talkie just in case though," he held out the bulky black device, his eyes tired. "See you in a few hours, y'n," Simon added before walking away, yelling at one of the workers in the process.

It wasn't a long motorcycle ride before you got to where you wanted to go - a large clearing with a small barn in the center. It was abandoned and dilapidated, and ironically looked just like the one on Hershel's farm. Your heart clenched at the thought as you climbed off the motorcycle, pulling out a box of matches.

It was peaceful, and there didn't seem to be any walkers in close proximity. The fire would soon change that though. Lighting a few of the matches simultaneously, your eyes stared into the small dancing flames.

It was weird how it all turned out. Most people after having almost been burned alive would develop pyrophobia, a fear of fire... but you'd become a pyromaniac. It seemed to develop the same time as the schizophrenia, but admitting these things was about as easy as swallowing a rock.

Slowly walking forward, the air wrapped itself around the tips of the matchsticks, making the tiny tongues of fire swirl and bounce. You tossed it into the open and broken doorway of the barn. It instantly caught alight.

A natural instinct told you to move back, but your feet stayed planted in the ground. The heat from the steadily growing fire warmed your scarred and disfigured body. A scream from above caught you attention.

"Help! Somebody help me!" The girl screamed from the top window of the barn. The girl was you. You shut your eyes tight, begging for the delusion to go away. When you opened your eyes again the girl was gone, but the screaming was still inside your head. The beautifully devastating fire fiercely climbed the old wood, making goosebumps rise on your skin. It was beautiful now, controlled/ But when the structure fell and the fire erupted into the the sky with a loud 'whoosh', now that was the real beauty.

The walkers had yet to come, so you headed back towards your motorcycle to enjoy the view while peace still reigned. And that wasn't for long.

A twig snapped behind you, making you jump and raise your gun at the stranger before you. He had his hands raised in front of him as if he were a criminal surrendering to a large S.W.A.T team. A small beard framed his face, which was kind.

"Back up!" You yelled. It's not like you had to be afraid - you were the one with the gun.

The man took a small step back, hands still raised. "I'm not going to hurt you. My name is Aaron," the man, Aaron, said. He nodded towards the burning building. "You alright? Do you need help?" Aaron asked kindly, and your weapon lowered slightly at his unexpectedly innocent demeanor. Scanning his body, you noticed his clean blue button up shirt and jeans. This man definitely had some decent resources.

"What do you want?"

"Saw the fire, came to check it out," Aaron explained as he lowered his hands back down to his sides. "It's only me and one other person. I'm unarmed, but my friend isn't. He should be here any second, but I promise we aren't going to hurt you," he explained slowly, and you nodded. "I'm from a commu-"

The bushes on the outskirts of the clearing rustled, and you jerked your weapon towards the movement. An arrow protruded before the rest. Shaggy dark hair, faded black jeans, a black button-up and a black leather vest. It couldn't be? Could it? Maybe this was just another delusion. Another part of your imagination mixing with your mental disorder to form the perfect image of your father. It just all seemed so real. Daryl lowered his crossbow immediately, his eyes wide.

Y/n?" He choked thickly. You didn't know what to feel. Angry? He'd abandoned you, left you to die. Angry. You were angry. It took you a moment before you realized you hated the man standing in front of you. He there his crossbow to the ground and stormed towards you, enveloping you in a hug despite the weapon you held in your hands. Pushing him away, tears pricked at your eyes.

"Get away from me, you bastard!" You spat at the man, who stumbled back in surprise at your outburst. Aaron stood quietly observing the confusing scene in front of him.

"What?" Daryl whispered, confused.

The fire crackled behind you, and you felt the fire burn in your chest as real as the fire that burned behind you. Where did you even begin?

It had been a long time. The last time you saw your father was when you'd left the Sanctuary for a few days, just to figure out some things in a space less crowded. You'd spotted them walking on a lonely road - Rick, Carl, Daryl, Carol, and a bunch of new faces you'd never seen before. Overwhelming happiness had coursed through your veins when you realized you'd found them again. You considered approaching so that they knew you were alive, that you'd made it... but you'd overheard Carol talking to your father about Beth and grieving her loss. Daryl was mourning Beth. Not you. You had been replaced. After that, you'd gotten back to the Sanctuary as fast as possible. They weren't your family. They didn't care about you.

"Y/n, I thought... I thought ya died..." Tears spilled onto Daryl's cheeks. You didn't care.

"Well you sure as hell didn't try to disprove that assumption, did you? You left me to die! You left me to burn," you yelled with intense rage, gesturing to your mangled and scarred skin.

"I tried ta find you! I did everythin' I coulda!" Daryl yelled back now, and the argument flung between both him and you like a tennis ball in an intense game, and Aaron was merely a spectator.

"Don't lie to me! You left with Carol! You saved that bitch over me!"

Daryl stepped towards you, anger and sadness fighting for dominance on his face. "Don't call her that!"

"Oh right, my bad. I forgot that she's your bitch after you tried so hard to find her fucking kid!"

Daryl flinched. Sophia's death had been a tragedy, sure, but after a long time of contemplation you'd realized that Daryl tried harder to find Sophia than he tried to find you. Not even bothering to consider the fact that you needed your father at the time, he simply vanished for days on end trying to find Carol's girl.

"Don't make this about them! This about ya!" He yelled defensively, his voice was stronger now that it wasn't so clogged up with tears.

"It's always been about them! You never cared about me. Do you know that I found you before? A few months ago in the woods. You were crying," you kept explaining, not caring whether he wanted to listen or not. "You were crying for Beth. Beth Greene. Not for me, not for your own daughter. For Beth."

Fresh tears spilled onto his cheeks, and the building finally collapsed. The fire crackled loudly as the flames consumed the fallen structure.

"I'd had my time to cry over the death of my own damn daughter! But I couldn't keep on bein' weak, so I moved on. But I never forgot ya. And I hate myself for not tryin' harder ta find ya. And I'm sorry," his last few words were a whisper, barely audible above the sound of the fire that you'd created.

Aaron moved towards Daryl and placed a hand on his shoulder, only to have him respond by dropping his head low, shoulders shaking. He was crying.

"Y/n, we have a community. A home. You can come and stay with us, you and you father can be together again. Resolve your issues... you can be a family again," Aaron said desperately. He didn't know you, but the immense amount of care in his voice begged otherwise. For the briefest moment, you considered it.

Maybe you could put aside the issues from the past, maybe you could learn to forgive him. You and your father being reunited again seemed like a faraway dream, though no longer as distant. You could be a family again. Your hate towards Carol and everyone else could be resolved and smoothed out, like a creased sheet of paper. Only you knew that wasn't true. Creased paper never went back to how it should be - instead, wrinkles formed permanently in what was once a smooth, clean surface. Things could never go back to how they were.

You stared at Daryl's slumped over shoulders and tear stained face, then turned to look at the roaring fire before heading towards your motorcycle.

"I don't need Daryl," a small part of you flinched at using his real name instead of calling him 'Dad'. he didn't seem like a dad anymore. "I already have a family with Negan," you hoisted yourself onto the seat of the bike before the engine roared to life. "Better leave now before the walkers get you. Or don't."

You grabbed the bulky walkie-talkie and pushed down the button up communication between you, Simon and Negan.

"I'm coming home."

Grass and dirt flung out from behind the back tire as you sped around the two men, then raced forward back home, leaving Daryl behind. Maybe for good this time.

#daryldixon #daryl dixon one shot #the walking dead daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon fanfiction #twd #twd fanfic #twd fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x you

[santalsaburablog]

Adventures of Santal. Chapter 3. This is not a dream!

Humility is the only defense against humiliation.

     Kidnapping! Due to his curiosity, Santal Shan is trapped on the ship of the hitman Cad Bane, responsible for the death of her parents. Now the villain, seeking to cash in on a three-year-old girl, decides to go to the planet Tatooine in order to sell a possible youngling to the one who pays the most. Will the baby be able to escape from captivity? Or will the story end before it begins?

     Santal woke up in a dark room on an old couch. My head ached a little. The girl sighed and sat up.

     What happened to her? How did she get here? The events of the crazy night immediately began to spin in my memory: two white lights, a blue one in a hat, a man in a hood, a conversation, she was grabbed ... Then she pushed the man when he said that he wanted to give her somewhere. But how?! Where does this power come from? How did she do it?

     Most importantly, is she on the couch now? She was in another place. Why was it moved? And why is there some kind of red liquid on the finger?

     Reflections were interrupted by a sound very similar to ... steps! Santal quickly lay back on her left side and closed her eyes. As if sleeping. Door opened. The girl's soul sank into her heels with fear. Santal froze and closed her eyes tightly. She began to wait. Yesterday's man - who else? - went very close to the baby and gently shook her shoulder.

     - Get up, little girl.

     Cad Bane was in the best of spirits. He successfully completed the order and received a reward. Everything as usual. Nothing special. When you are one of the most successful mercenaries and you are constantly lucky, and things are arguing, you get used to it. And you are not very happy about success. You think it turned out the way it should have turned out. No options. But not at this time.

     Even when communicating with the customer, the duros felt that someone was watching him. On the ship, I noticed that something was wrong with the cloak. And when the client turned his back, he looked closely - there was another pair of legs under the cloak. Outsiders. You have to be a complete fool to decide that the other person has two pairs of legs. They are different.

     Interestingly, if you look from afar, it seems as if the cloak is fluttering in the wind. But there was no wind. There were little legs. And, as it turned out later, belonged to a little girl. Cad, guided by the eye, gave her three to four years. Not more. The face is pretty cute. Albeit ordinary, but very pretty. I just wanted to pat on the cheek. And in the end he could not resist. It is immediately clear that the baby will become beautiful when she grows up.

     But appearances are often deceiving. And the Duros knew it very well. So, when dragging the child to the ship, he was careful. Suddenly this child is not a child, but clowd, for example. Or just sent to spy for a fee. Or maybe not. The hunter remembered how the little bastard tried to bite him. It is clear that the girl has character. And, judging by the behavior, absolutely does not pretend. A real child.

     Duros, however, decided to double-check for his own peace of mind. Rechecked. Indeed, a three-year-old human girl. Blood confirms.

     Although I thought at first that this was not necessary. Well, seriously, it doesn't smell like pretense. It is impossible to pretend to be like that. It's played too well. If a spy, then clearly a professional. Dressed in a nightgown and simple shoes. Nothing special. Most likely, she is a homeless girl or just loves to walk at night.

     Another person would question the child and take him home. Or just drove away, at worst. But Duros was not. He didn't need witnesses. Even so small and innocent. None. And you can't help leaving traces. This he learned a long time ago.

     Basically, Kad had two ideas. The first is to sell the child into slavery to the one who pays the most. The second is to demand a ransom from the parents. Not small. If they care about their daughter, they will fork out. If not, you can easily throw it into space or sell it again. Based on reflections, the duros settled on the most optimal option - a sale on Tatooine, Nal Hatta, Nar Shaddaa. Someone will definitely pay.

     Thinking about the enrichment to come, Kad's mood improved as much as possible. The corners of the lips pulled up. Having reached the right door, he opened it and saw that the girl was still asleep. Sitting carefully on the edge, the hunter began to shake gently.

     - Get up, little girl.

     Santal tried not to react to rudeness or touch. Not that it was unpleasant.

     There was a sudden click. The girl jumped up, turning at the sound. The man was holding in his right hand some strange thing called a blaster. Of course, Santal did not know that this thing was called that. But some sixth sense told her that she might be dangerous. On the other hand, Santal really wanted to hold this thing in his hands. Disassemble. But I was afraid to ask. Suddenly it won't.

     - Finally. I was going to wake you up in a different way. Blue-skinned slightly turned the thing and somehow secured it to his thigh.

     - Take what you want! Just don't hit me! Sorry! - cried the girl, frightened to death.      

- For what? - answered the man, genuinely surprised. “You’re not the first one to bite me. Although you're right, you better not rock the boat again.    

  - Well no! Although yes, but ... Sorry to push.      

The Duros was even more surprised at this. Santal thought his brow ridges had risen.      

- When did you push me? You tried to bite my hand a couple of times. And then she fell asleep.      

- True? - Santal asked, completely not believing in what was said.      

- Looks like I'm joking?      

The girl scrolled the information slowly in her head. So she dreamed everything?     

- So it was a dream?      

The man only nodded in response. Santal breathed a sigh of relief. However, the joy quickly faded away. She suddenly remembered that the stranger wanted to "give her" somewhere. Or whatever. So I decided to start the same song again.      

- Please bring me home! Return! Let go! I will not tell anyone! Santal went as far as trying to make her eyebrows a house. I thought it would.

But no. The uncle did not even take an absent ear.      

- I already explained. You spied on me. I don't like that. And further, further, further ...      

Cad had no desire to chew on his principles a second time to some girl. Anyway, he is not obliged to explain the victim's motives! You are the one to blame! There is no need to walk at night!      

On the other hand, it does the right thing. Help one Duros cash in. Ordinary girl or not. No difference. He immediately remembered the test: he carefully pricked his finger and recognized the color of the blood. That's all. Unfortunately, Bane did not have the equipment to make more accurate analyzes. There was no need to buy. As luck would have it! Well, okay. He will earn as much as he can. Spit. There will be many more orders and generous fees in his life.      

Duros walked out the door, not paying the slightest attention to the pleading and crying of the little child.     

 Santal wept a little more, and then went to the door. And yet this is not a dream! The push is a dream, and everything else is not! And why did she just go? I would be at home now. Warm. With my aunt and uncle. And now ... she doesn't know what awaits her! She will be brought to it is not clear where, and then everyone. The end. She will never see her home again! The girl from such thoughts became unbearable to sit locked in four walls. Ah, if she could just be outside for a start!    

  At that moment, a slight electrical impulse passed through the girl's right hand, with which she touched the cold metal. Door opened. As if someone from above heard Santal and fulfilled her request. The girl was delighted and left. Turned left. She decided to first examine everything around and understand what and how. And where is the exit.      

Having no other ideas, Santal began to enter every room. And what can we say, she really liked the excursion, despite the fact that she herself was a guide. But there were also disadvantages. Some rooms were closed. And those that turned out to be discovered contained many amazing things, the names of most of which she did not know. It’s no one's fault that they didn’t tell her anything about all this. Neither aunt, nor uncle, nobody.     

 There was nothing special in the first room next door. Some boxes. In the second it was already more interesting and incomprehensible. It was a very large room. An entire armory. If one of the adults looked in there, he would have decided that the ship belongs to a war veteran, or a spy, or a hunter. In the latter case, he would be right. Blaster rifles, pistols, heavy artillery and other weapons. And most importantly, everything is arranged in a certain order. No mess. Nothing extra.      

Then Santal found herself either in the dining room or in the kitchen. At this moment, the stomach rumbled. Santal remembered that she had not eaten anything since the evening, and decided to look for at least something edible. A can on a table came into view. The girl remembered how the stranger opened and drank from it.      

- What if I have a drink too? Santal said to herself. - Why not? Uncle drank. It will work for him, will do for me. But the smell is awful. Well, okay. Maybe it tastes better. At least I won't die of hunger.      

Another reason for the girl's determination was that her aunt often fed her mushrooms, mold and ricrit meat. Not everyone likes this kind of food. But not the Rylotyanka. Although Santal was not a Twi'lek, she lived on Ryloth from early childhood and managed to get used to the way of life there. Namely, the climate, food and some customs.      

The girl climbed up on a chair, reached for the can and drank a little. Well, disgusting! Santal grimaced and gently spat it back into the jar. The horror is simple! Impossible to drink! As soon as the uncle himself did not choke! Maybe I'm used to it? HM interesting.     

Perhaps repeated use will reduce the effect? It got much worse. The smell is awful. The taste is bitter. The foam is thick, white. Discomfort in the throat and abdomen. This she had not expected, as well as the next problem.      

Nausea began. Santal was already worried, covering her mouth with her hand. It will be good if it gets dirty floor. Most of all, she was afraid that the stranger would hit her. Or worse, she'll never see the family. Despite her difference from her uncle and aunt, she still loved them and considered them close.      

Suddenly a thought flashed through the girl's mind. Restroom! There must be a toilet somewhere nearby! But how do you find it? Itself will search for a long time - it is clear as day. But my uncle probably knows. But the question is - where is he? In the end, everything goes to one. She does not want to be seen by a stranger, and she will not be able to escape quietly. At the moment, he can or should help her.      

There was the sound of a door opening. The girl shuddered. Everything inside went cold. Santal turned around and calmed down. Desires are able to be embodied in reality, who would have thought.      

- You?! How did you end up here ?! - Uncle looked so menacingly that the girl almost had incontinence.      

“The door was open,” Santal replied, seriously frightened and even forgetting where she needed to go. True, for a second. The nausea started to get worse.      Two main thoughts prevailed in Santal's head: she was sick and afraid that her uncle would do something terrible to her. But a moment later, a third, saving thought appeared. Santal needs to somehow distract him from his plans for her. The girl put her legs together and began to dance.      

-What are you doing? “Duros didn’t know what it was at first, but he did it quickly. The pose is too obvious. But this does not mean that he does not know the answer to the question asked.      

Bane already had some guesses to check. But not right now. First, you need to take the child to relieve himself. The man grabbed the girl across the body. It would be better if he didn't!      

Santal felt her long fingers pressing against her stomach. In a few seconds, the hunter's entire face was in vomit. I even got a little hit on my chest. For about two minutes, maybe more, the duros frowned at the girl, who could not stand the ridiculous appearance of the stranger and laughed.      

- Very funny. Duros expressed his opinion of what had happened in a dry voice.  

- Uncle, you are so funny! - the girl explained through laughter.      

At that moment, Cad noticed that the can of beer - and there it was - was not the same as he had left it. Here, in his place, anyone would add two and two. Almost.      

- Did you drink? - The man put Santal on the floor and, taking out a towel, began to dry himself.    

  - Quite a bit. I've been very h-h-h-hungry all the time. And you too d-d-drank I thought it meant that I, too, could, ”the girl answered in a trembling voice.      Duros, upon hearing this explanation, wanted to put his hand to his face. What an idiot!      

- You're an idiot! The words burst out before he realized what he had said aloud. - If you really are a child ... First you go for a walk at night, although you should sleep. You overhear other people's conversations, as if you do not know that you cannot behave this way. And now I drank the liquid left on the table. Don't your parents teach you anything?     

 Santal has never felt as bad as she does now. Not only because she was scolded by a stranger. In her opinion, he had no right to do so! She also felt like a knife had been stabbed into her. Uncle, without knowing it, touched her most sore spot.      

- I do not have parents. They were killed by hunters. That's what my aunt says. But I do not believe. - Tears began to form in the girl's eyes. She wanted to add that they were Jedi, but she remembered that her aunt had strictly ordered not to tell anyone about it. - And generally speaking! Cried Santal with such fervor, as if she thought that the stranger did not hear her. Immediately lowered her voice: - I could not sleep, and then I saw white lights. I decided to see what it was, then I saw you. I wanted to inspect the place where you came from. I am by accident. I wanted to know everything. Forgive my curiosity.      

Santal again tried to build an angelic face. She even got into a characteristic pose. But no! Duros cannot be penetrated by that.     

 “They were the headlights of my ship. Got it? Okay, that's it. We are already approaching Tatooine. Someone will buy you for sure.      

Hearing the familiar word, Santal clung to the man's leg.     

 “Don’t go to Tatooine! My aunt told me that giant evil slugs live there. They'll eat me! - begged the girl. - Lick and eat!     

 - Nobody asks you! And in general, you had to think before! Clear?      

Hearing about the orphanhood of the child, the duros felt like a needle pricked in the chest area. Looking at the girl, Bane thought, “Pretty. Simple and naive so much that I even feel sorry for this silly thing. One can only envy and wish that it stayed so long. Then he will enrich someone else.      

And then he shook himself from thinking. Until that day, in his entire career, the hunter had never allowed himself such ridiculous sentimental thoughts. Except for the last one. So, what is he? Still young, and already beginning to lose his grip ?! Well no! Will not work! Some little Ryloth to pity him! It is not permissible for someone like him to be soft, so you need to make some bloody order to keep your mind clear.      

In general, in general, Duros Santal for all the time managed to get tired of the order with her curiosity and plaintive squeak. Endless “Please! Take me home! Let go! " still rang in my head. The man sighed. The sooner he gets rid of the splinter and gets the money, the better. She wanted to see the lights. No wonder they say: "A curious creature in the market was torn off its head."      

Cad landed the ship near one of the Hutts. To prevent the girl from escaping, the man grabbed her by the collar and carried her to the outskirts of the city.     

 Santal, afraid that something terrible would happen to her again, hung at first at attention. She pretended to submit to her unenviable fate. But after about half an hour she began to rock the boat. Stronger and stronger every two minutes.      I

n the end, Bane got tired of it, and he grabbed the child around the torso, hugging him to him. And in vain. After all, when Santal tasted the beer for the second time, she took too long a sip. So, the girl vomited a second time. Only much less.      

As a result, the man simply held the child's hand. And everything would have been nothing, only Santal separated from the stranger, as soon as they got into the crowd. When the girl woke up, she saw that she was standing all alone. The man in the hat was nowhere to be seen. There are only strangers around. How many different faces. The girl was scared in earnest. His eyes flickered in the hope that the man noticed Santal's absence and was looking for her, calling.      Santal caught herself immediately. He doesn't know her name! What a fool! You should at least give a name! Tears streamed down my cheeks. Covering her face with her hands, the girl ran into some gateway and hid in a corner.      

The situation was truly dire. On Tatooine, in one of his cities, in a back street, under the bright scorching suns, sat a little three-year-old girl, absolutely nothing. She had nowhere to go. She was even ready for her aunt to appear and scold around the clock. Why, she was ready to listen to moral teachings for eternity, just to return home. But it was impossible to carry out the baby's plan. There was only one thing left - to disappear!     

 Bane did not immediately notice the absence of the child. But, as soon as he discovered the loss, cursing everyone and everything, he began to search, while imagining that the piglet was sitting somewhere and crying. In his opinion, all children are like that.      

The man remembered that he did not know the girl's name. However, I was not particularly upset. You can simply describe it and they will tell you whether you saw it or not.      

The comlink suddenly rang. This was a new customer - the head of the Rations Syndicate.      

“Cad Bane, I need your services.      

- I'm listening.     

 The man listened to the video message and went to a meeting with the customer, as he needed details and some necessary things to complete the task. And the hunter forgot to think about the girl in a minute. I got away with it, so be it. All the same, one will not survive, and the information she heard will die with her.      

And Santal, having cried a lot, went to wander aimlessly. The walk was hard, in part because my stomach ached so badly from hunger. She had no money, and she did not know yet that in order to eat she had to pay. Therefore, I was very surprised when, by a happy coincidence, hitting the market, I heard a request for eight loans. Frightened by the unknown word, Santal gave a streak. Moreover, she received a portion of abuse in the back.      

Therefore, the girl came up with another way: carefully grab one piece of something edible on the counter and run until they noticed. It seemed like a wonderful idea to her. Firstly, her aunt never explained to her that she shouldn't do that. And secondly, she was hungry!  

By evening, after practicing, the girl was able to eat a few fruits and something else tasty. Silenok increased, and it was possible to get out. When it got colder, Santal saw several cars, somewhat similar to the one in which she was brought here. Having walked around the place twice, she did not see a single representative of her homeland. Therefore, she chose a ship at random, in her opinion, more beautiful than others. The door was open, and two green-skinned creatures with unusual eyes and lips with a tube walked back and forth through it. One brought in the boxes, and the other - with blue pigmentation - pointed his finger at a rectangular thin piece.     

 Realizing that this was her chance, Santal imperceptibly buried herself in a box and fell silent. They lifted the box and carried it inside. As soon as it became clear that the ship had taken off, the girl calmed down. She will return home! If not immediately, but in the end it will get to Ryloth, no matter how long it takes! She swears it! Or is she not Santal Sabura!      

Only by clearly pronouncing this phrase to herself, the girl realized how proud it sounds! She would have screamed the name out loud, but she remembered where she was and bit her tongue in time.      The girl was glad for another reason. It was not sold. She ran away from the bad guy. It was only then that she remembered that she didn’t know his name either. And she herself did not say the name, and at uncle did not ask. She fled from Tatooine without being caught by the scary evil slugs. Aunt would be proud.       

Santal Sabura didn’t notice as she dozed off.

#cad bane #cad bane x oc

[merinnan]

AO3  |  Nevermore Masterlist

A pair of eyes the colour of dark honey; a flash of white amidst a waterfall of silky hair; a warm smile that had no place being so pretty. All of them spun together, settling in and refusing to be dismissed.

“Why don’t you just tell him?”

He spun, images shifting and changing until he saw the smiling face of his brother in front of him.

“Huh?” he said, very intelligently.

“Lai Han. Why don’t you tell him? The graduation ceremony’s over, if you don’t tell him now you’ll never get the chance.”

Jiang Cheng looked around, his surroundings solidifying into the grounds of his high school. Around him he could see his classmates, laughing and celebrating the end of high school and the end of the gruelling entrance exams, taking photos with friends and teachers alike. He shook his head.

“What’s the point? We’re going to be on a plane to Alaska in a month.”

“Aaaah, Jiang Cheng, Jiang Cheng.” Wei Wuxian draped himself over his brother’s shoulder, not at all bothered by the half-hearted shove that failed to dislodge him. “Even if it only lasts a month, that’s still something, isn’t it?”

Jiang Cheng snorted. “It wouldn’t even be that, and you know it. I know what the answer will be, so why bother asking it?”

Zhu Lian’s rejection still stung. Maybe it wouldn’t have stung quite as much if she hadn’t been the first person he’d tried to ask out without being set up by his parents or siblings, or maybe if every single one of those hadn’t also rejected him, but it was what it was. Of course Lai Han wouldn’t be any different, so why put himself through the pain of yet another reminder that no-one wanted him?

“One of these days,” Wei Wuxian was saying, still hanging off of his shoulder, “I am going to get you to go on an actual successful date.”

Jiang Cheng snorted again, giving his brother another shove and this time managing to push him away. “Yeah, and one of these days you’ll actually date someone at all instead of just flirting with them but backing off at the first sign they might be taking it seriously.”

“How do you know I haven’t?”

“Because if you had, you’d be even more insufferable than you usually are.”

Wei Wuxian grabbed his chest with a gasp of mock offence. “So mean! A-jie, did you hear that? Jiang Cheng is being mean to me!”

“A-Xian.” Jiang Cheng turned at the sound of their sister’s voice, soft and amused. “A-Cheng does have a point.” Her eyes twinkle with the same amusement that fills her voice, and Wei Wuxian gasps again.

“A-jie! How could you?!”

“Told you so,” Jiang Cheng told him. He enveloped Jiang Yanli in a hug, and Wei Wuxian quickly got over his faked offence to join them. “It’s good to see you, A-jie.”

“I wasn’t going to miss your graduation,” she said. She disentangled herself from them, and pulled out two small boxes, holding out one to each of them. “These are for you.”

“Thank you!”

“You didn’t have to…”

Both boys spoke at once, even as they each took the box offered to them, opening them to see that each held a lovely silver lotus, with a ribbon threaded through it – Jiang Cheng’s ribbon a deep violet, while Wei Wuxian’s was a bright red.

“Since you both said you planned to grow your hair out after graduation,” Jiang Yanli said, “I thought you might like something to wear in it that reminded you of home while you’re off saving the world.”

The violet of the ribbon bled into the silver lotus, until it replaced the silver entirely, the lotus growing and growing in size. It was in front of him, now, and above him, held in a giant clawed hand as it hammered at the jaeger in front of it, while beside them chunks of glass and concrete fell down to the ground. There were holes ripped in the building that the lotus had been torn from, exposing the offices inside – or what remained of them, anyway, since some of them had been part of the debris raining down to the ground, while the ceilings of others had collapsed.

He looked, and looked, and could tear his eyes away, barely even reading the ticker that was across the bottom of the screen, barely feeling the tiles beneath his feet, or the phone pressed against his ear. That’s where the ringing he could hear was coming from.

This time, the ringing stopped as someone answered, and he heard his father’s voice.

“This is all your fault.”

“Wh…what?” Jiang Cheng stammered. The purple lotus on the screen in front of him shifted, and there was an actual lotus now right in front of his eyes. He blinked, and found himself standing on muddy ground.

“I said,” Wei Wuxian repeated, lightly tapping him over the head with the lotus, “that this is all your fault.”

“What’s my fault?”

“This!” Before he could react, his brother had tossed the flower aside and pounced on him, sending them both sprawling into the shallows of the lake.

“Wei Wuxian!” Jiang Cheng spluttered as broke the surface. Wei Wuxian’s head popped up a moment later, the boy shaking wet hair out of his eyes as he laughed.

“Ah, don’t be mad, Jiang Cheng! Since I’m leaving for Beijing tomorrow, this was my last chance to do this! Who knows when we’ll be back here once we’re rangers?”

“Well, whose fault is that for taking off on a trip to Beijing with his friends instead of spending a last couple of weeks at home before we go to the Academy?” Jiang Cheng huffed, standing and squeezing water out of his shirt. He grimaced at the mud over their clothes. “A-niang is going to kill us.”

“How is she going to do that,” Wei Wuxian asked, “when you’ve killed her?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?!” Jiang Cheng spun around to confront his brother, only to find his brother bow behind him.

“You killed her, Jiang Cheng. Her and A-die. You’re the reason they were in Shanghai that day, taking you to the airport, seeing you off. They wouldn’t have visited the Shanghai office until the following week otherwise.”

Jiang Cheng spun around again, only to find that, again, Wei Wuxian was behind him. “That’s not true! And where were you?! You abandoned us! You vanished!”

“You know it’s true. You should have come to Beijing with me. Then they wouldn’t have been in Shanghai. A-jie wouldn’t have been in Shanghai. And you would have been with me, nothing would have happened to me, you could have made sure we got on the plane together.”

An inarticulate howl of rage echoed in his ears for several moments before Jiang Cheng realised that it was coming from him, and he spun again, swinging his fist at Wei Wuxian. His fist went right through Wei Wuxian and collided with a tree trunk. Wei Wuxian vanished, along with the lake, and Jiang Cheng found himself standing in a cemetery, two familiar headstones only a few meters away. He punched the tree again, and again.

“Wei Wuxian! Come back here!” he screamed as his knuckles scraped on the bark, just as they’d done four years ago when he’d screamed these same words just after his parents’ funeral. “Where are you, you bastard? Why have you abandoned us? Why aren’t you here? You should be fucking here!” He punctuated each statement with another punch, before slowly sinking to his knees. “You should be here…you can’t leave me to do this alone…”

~~~

Perhaps it was the gentle chiming of a bell that woke him, or perhaps it was the sting in his hand from where he’d flung it against the wall in his sleep, but either way, Jiang Cheng found himself awake, tangled in his blankets and his face wet with tears. The numbers of his clock, the only light in the room, told him that it was 5:17.

He lay there for several moments, taking several deep breaths, then reached out to the bell that hung beside his bed. He wrapped his fingers around it, stilling its chiming, and held it for several moments more. He could feel the lotuses carved into it, a soothing reminder of home. He released it, tapping it lightly to set it to chiming again, and reached out to turn the lamp on.

It had been awhile since he’d had a dream like this, but he knew there was no point in trying to get back to sleep after one of these. Blinking against the light, he untangled the blankets and swung his feet around to the floor. Might as well get an early start to the day and keep active enough to push the dream from his mind.

#pacific rim #mo dao zu shi #chen qing ling #the untamed #mdzs #cql #nevermore #xicheng #jiang cheng #lan xichen

[oldbluethings]

The Cold Ones ch 2

Rating: explicit

Pairing: Stephen Strange/Karl Mordo

Genre: magical mystery, angst, smut, action adventure

Characters: Stephen Strange, Wong, Karl Mordo, Everett Ross, original characters

Warnings: nah

***

Stephen wakes up in what he's starting to think of as the 'recovery room'. White walls, lights dimmed, the steady reassuring electronic tone of a heart monitor. His heart, he realizes.

"Sorry about that."

Stephen turns his head slowly toward the voice. Ross is sitting next to the bed. Stephen blinks at him a few times. He doesn't actually look sorry, but he does look worried, at least. And more than a little excited.

Stephen swallows. His throat is dry. He must have been out for a while. In addition to the heart monitor, he has an IV port in the back of his hand. He's still wearing his clothes, though. He's cold, he realizes, on the verge of shivering. There's only a thin blanket over him. He looks around and tries to remember what happened. Dr. Thompson is up near his head, busy fiddling with his IV lines, injecting something. He wants to tell her to stop, but she's already done before he can get the words to come out.

It takes him more than a few seconds to shake off the lingering haze. He remembers the white room he was in. The box on the floor. Oh.

"What the... fuck… was that thing?" he croaks.

"That's classified," Ross says.

Stephen frowns. “What happened to me?”

Ross and Dr. Thompson exchange a quick look, “You experienced an episode of tachycardia,” she says. “And your blood pressure dropped precipitously.”

That would explain how he's feeling right now, like he's been squeezed out and left empty.

"You said... nothing dangerous. Did you know that was... gonna happen?" Stephen frowns when the words come out slurred. Did they just sedate him or was he already this messed up?

Ross shakes his head. "No. I apologize for that. We've tested the… device before with other subjects, but they didn't react the way you did." That look of excitement is still on his face. Obviously, the test, whatever it was meant to prove, was a success.

Dr. Thompson leans over and tries to shine a penlight in his eyes. Stephen allows it for a few seconds and then shoves her hand away. "Can you tell me what you experienced?" she asks, apparently not bothered by his rudeness. In fact, she sounds eager, too.

Stephen's suddenly sure he doesn't want to give them any more information. Whatever was in the box is dangerous. He can only imagine why they might be interested in it.

He must have hesitated for a moment too long. "Remember our deal, Strange," Ross warns. "Total cooperation."

Stephen rolls to the side facing the wall so he doesn't have to look at Ross's smug face anymore, sighs. He barely remembers what happened—everything is still a vague, jumbled mess in his head. "I started to feel cold. The room was... vibrating. Then my body, my head. Hurt. Felt like... I was coming apart. Then nothing."

“That’s it?” Dr. Thompson asks. “Did you feel anything else? See anything?”

He did feel something, right at the end. The cold had gotten worse, seeped inside, until it seemed like his blood was freezing. And then he'd been pulled, from somewhere inside. Almost like the pieces of his astral form were being ripped away. Down… somewhere. He's not sure.

Stephen decides to keep that part to himself for now. He still has no idea what it means. “No,” he says, “I didn't notice anything else.”

The doctor sits back, seemingly disappointed with that answer. “Can you tell me what day it is?”

“Tuesday,” he says. He's not that fucked up.

"Try some magic," Dr. Thompson suggests.

Stephen lifts his hand and stares at it, the faint tremble in his fingers. That’s an odd question. “Why would I…?” he starts.

What if...?

He's suddenly terrified they've done something permanent, broken him somehow. His hand starts shaking violently, but he flicks his fingers out, draws a tiny, glowing rune and holds it, floating, above his palm. It's not even difficult. Whatever happened, they didn't cause any obvious damage. Stephen exhales carefully, so Ross won't hear.

"Very good," Dr. Thompson says in the most patronizing way possible. Stephen's starting to think he should have negotiated a little, gotten more out of their deal. Like a full ride to Harvard for Mary.

Stephen dismisses the rune and finishes the gesture with his middle finger aimed at Ross and the doctor. Painful, but worth it.

Ross chuckles. "Glad you're still with us."

Was that an actual note of relief in Ross's voice? Stephen shifts around again so he can glare at him. But the look on Ross’s face is not at all what he expected—a mix of fondness and concern.

Stephen huffs, but it's half-hearted. He knows Ross isn't quite the cynical bastard he pretends to be, but he certainly doesn't want or need the man’s pity. He ends up rolling over to face the wall again so he doesn't have to look at the man’s face. “I'm fine,” he mutters.

“I’ve got a meeting in about, oh… five minutes, or so. I’ll come see you before we send you home.” Ross’s hand lands on his shoulder, light and warm, startling him. “Get some rest, Strange.”

Before Stephen can protest, Ross is striding away, leaving him alone with the doctor.

Eventually, they dim the lights in the room and let him sleep for a while. He'd wanted to just go home, but Dr. Thompson insisted he stay for observation. He's tired enough that he only puts up a token protest. He's not that confident he'd be able to make it out the door on his own feet, anyway. It's surprisingly easy to drift off to the steady beeping of the heart monitor.

He sleeps for a while—he's not sure how long. When he wakes up again, he feels slightly more coherent. Aware enough that he can feel someone watching him. Stephen rolls over so he can look past his shoulder.

There is someone watching him. A woman is sitting on the edge of his bed. Not a doctor or a researcher. One of Ross’s field agents, judging by her utilitarian gray suit. Her blond hair is cut short and styled in little spikes, slightly longer in the front. It looks bleached. No makeup—her mouth is a thin pale line. Almond-shaped, brown eyes, dark circles under them. She's in her thirties, maybe. Attractive, in a rather severe way, he notes absentmindedly.

He's bothered by the intimacy of her position. There's a chair against the wall; she could have moved it closer if she wanted a place to sit while she stared at him. Stephen waits for her to say something, but she doesn't. She just keeps staring at him—no, past him—eyes unfocused, like she's lost in thought. After a minute or so, he's starting to find it annoying. He clears his throat, but even that doesn't get her attention.

"Can I help you?" he finally says.

The woman startles like she’s forgotten he’s there. And her eyes grow wide, searching his face in confusion. Still, she says nothing. The silence stretches out until it's beyond awkward.

Stephen scowls. What the hell is wrong with this person? "What do you want?"

She pushes herself off the edge of his bed, eyes still wide, and looks around the room.

“What's wrong?” Stephen asks. He's starting to get worried that something's happened. He pushes himself up to his elbows. The door to his room is open, probably so they can keep an eye on him. People pass by—techs in lab coats and scrubs, another agent in a dark suit—all looking unhurried. Everything seems like business as usual.

The woman backs away and slips out the open door without saying a word.

#doctor strange #mcu fanfiction #strordo #stephen strange/karl mordo #my writing