#musings / the stars sighed in unison

[usedpidemo]

Stargazing (Twice Mina)

With the way things are going, Mina’s begging for trouble. And not the usual slap of the wrist kind that celebrities get away with—the kind that’s scandalous, career damning.

She’s so close to falling apart.

And as you watch her come undone—the very image that defines her gradually disappears—you can’t help but think: she deserves this.

—————

If there’s any clear-cut takeaway, it’s this: Mina is designed to be gorgeous, and she plays the part to near perfection. 

That’s the whole point. Here’s a sea of media outlets and paparazzi, accompanied by flashing cameras and screaming fans on one side. On the other, stars and figures from different fields, all dressed to the nines and emanate a distinguishable aura. The ‘I’m better than you’ kind. No amount of modest smiles and perfectly curated PR-fluff can disguise the noxious air of celebrity on the red carpet. 

Then you look at Mina, wearing the hell out of that backless dress, designed by none other than yours truly (you). You couldn’t have asked for a better muse. She carries herself and your brand around with a confident smile—with pride—seemingly indifferent to the raucous screams telling her to look this way, that way. Wherever her profile turns, cameras illuminate the crowd in near-perfect unison. 

It’s a slow motion fashion moment. 

As if she couldn't look any prettier, she brushes her hair with a quick, delicate swipe of her hand with queenly grace. The cameras live for moments like these. It’s what goes viral online; it’s what gets social media buzzing. She’s a K-pop idol, the media will say and it’s true, but she doesn’t look out of place with the so-called elite. If anything, she blends in seamlessly, rich, quiet, and enigmatic personality and all. 

Cameras continue to follow her as she walks through the carpet. She greets a few other celebrities in the vicinity; mostly Hollywood actresses and artists before she disappears behind the steps of the building. Throughout the entire ordeal, you were never on her mind, not even during interviews, nor when she was in clear view, even though you made her what she is now. All she can think about is herself and her character. That’s how fame works.

You don’t even get a text. Your only reference is a note that reads 23:00. 

—————

The next time you see Mina is hours later, at the promised time. One slender leg enters the backseat of the vehicle. She remains mostly untouched, leaving the gala looking the same as when she entered. She’s considerate enough to wave and give a flying kiss to the crowd, who unsurprisingly, go crazy for her. It’s a convincing act. You would, too, if you weren’t always by her side for ninety percent of the day.

She breathes out this deeply relieved sigh once the door slams shut. She’s tired—of being someone else, and just exhausted in general; she’s been in front of a mirror since five in the morning and it’s almost midnight by the time the event ends. You can tell she’d rather be in her hotel suite than anywhere else.

So you drive. No words. Just hit the road and get out of there. 

Even late into the night, Paris is still bustling and lively. You don’t make it past three streets before being met by traffic ahead. It’s an agonizing crawl. The satnav says you’ll arrive at your hotel by 2:00 in the morning. Mina probably won’t make it by midnight, at this point because she’s on the verge of falling unconscious, resting her head on the door. Her heels are set on the opposite end, with her lower half resting along the edges of the backseat into a couch position.

Even when she’s asleep, she’s still gorgeous. 

“Miss?” you gently call to her, snapping her from her tired daze. She gives you a mild stare through the rear-view mirror, unable to speak.

“We’re gonna be held up by traffic. You want something to eat?” you ask, knowing she likely won’t take anything more than a handful of fries or half a burger. 

“Sure. Whatever.” Mina sounds cold, a little annoyed somewhat. The past day has been unkind to her health; she arrived at the airport yesterday after a different schedule and barely had less than five hours of rest before dedicating the entire day for a gala she had contractual obligations to attend. She couldn’t say no even if she wanted; she’s got her whole schedule curated and planned out for months. 

You have more time to get her dresses planned out and prepared out than she has to breathe.

And time is unkind to both of you right now. Traffic trogs along at a snail’s pace. The arrival time on the satnav moves further and further away. Sunrise will meet you above a red light at this rate. How anyone gets around in this city considering the number of events that are happening all at once is beyond you. You only drive through Paris a handful of times a year, all for the same reason, and you abhor the idea—let alone the experience—every single time.

It’s difficult enough to wait, especially in this late of hours, when money and careers are on the line. Even more challenging is keeping a cool head and withholding yourself from using your instincts against the trusted systems of the algorithm. Mina will call you many things. She’ll call you insane. You don’t mind; it’ll be on the lower end of insults and comments you’ve heard from the so-called ‘elite.’ 

At the end of the day, you’re just simply following orders. 

You swerve off the main road, into narrow alleys and streets that aren’t registered on any official map. Anywhere that can give you a sense of progress and hold momentum. You drive. You make liberal use of your klaxon against anything and anyone. You go around in circles, sometimes looking at the satnav if it’s kind enough to give you a shorter, quicker path. In your haste, you completely overlook the star, the celebrity you’re meant to protect and coddle like fine art, and cracks begin to form.

“Shit!” Mina fastens the seatbelt, in distress and wide awake from your uncharacteristically aggressive driving. She lifts her head. Pierces your gaze through the rearview mirror with a mixture of panic, concern, and frustration. All that hours spent in the makeup room to look perfect, down to the smallest of details, coming undone within a few minutes. 

She seemed rather proud of her appearance, too.

Of course, her demands bounce off your ears—or ring through like white noise. You only know your task. Get her safe. 

Even though it’s your very idea, you forget about the thought of eating, too. You’ve passed by a couple of McDonalds along the way, but are blinded by tunnel vision to recognize a single one. It’s not a big loss; she’s as tired of eating fast food as much as you are. It isn’t good for her image right now, either. 

Eventually, you do make it back to her hotel. A little over midnight, but still not as early as you wanted to be. You look at the status of your passenger princess. She’s about as coddled as a five year old playing with her doll. A mess.

When you open up the door for her to step out, it’s a dramatic moment that gathers everyone’s attention and fixes every eye. It’s loud. 

It also so happens to be empty in the area.

The way she slaps you in the cheek echoes throughout the valet like the sharp crack of a whip, or the pop of a firework. Fucking hell, she hits hard. For a dainty woman like Mina, she’s surprisingly strong. “What the hell is wrong with you?” she snaps, cold and bitter. 

You find no mistake in what you did. In fact, you believe you’re doing her a service. Tomorrow, she’ll be at the airport and out of the country faster than when she came in. She doesn’t have to think about you for the foreseeable future. You only see a moody, ill-tempered celebrity frustrated that circumstances haven’t gone her way. Chalk it up to fatigue, but you can’t be arsed to explain yourself or react accordingly at this point.

She’s also pretty when she’s angry, you can’t help but think. Not the pouty, cute, wholesome kind—the ‘I’m gonna rip your throat’ out kind of ire. Sometimes you forget your job and admire just how gorgeous Mina is. You’re no different than the paparazzi or the average fan.

It makes her heated. You’re mentally smirking.

It would be a waste to fight over something as petty as reckless driving this late. No one got hurt; not a single traffic light or speed limit was violated. But her heart jumped a little bit when she expected the least. In her eyes, it’s a reasonable enough incident to show some attitude and assert her status over you.

But not tonight.

Instead, you take her by the wrist and lead her to the alley beside the hotel, away from potential cameras and prying eyes. She yelps, but you slip a hand around her mouth so she remains quiet. Mina is too tired to show some resistance. 

“Listen here, Miss Myoui,” you tell her, pointing your finger directly at her. “I did everything right to make sure you have a fine, comfortable experience in Paris. Did your dress, drove you around, everything. What I did was save you a few hours of sleeping in the car.  I never asked for anything from you, so don’t come acting like an ungrateful brat.”

“Fuck you.” Mina raises her palm, readying another thunderous, face cracking slap as a threat. “I could have done all that instead if I wanted to.”

“Need I remind you who made the dress that you’re wearing?”

She freezes, unable to find some form of retaliation or rebuttal.

“Thought so.”

“Well what am I supposed to do, then? Get on my knees and worship you as my lord and savior?” she asks. 

Suddenly, something clicks inside your head. An idea.

“That—” you pause, mentally noting the entire sequence in a flash, “Actually, that’s not a bad idea.”

“I’m not doing it.” Mina rolls her eyes, turning her gaze away and crossing her arms. Somehow, she’s managed to recognize your intent so quickly. What isn’t surprising is her natural cleverness and intelligence. “Not tonight. Not after what you did.”

“I didn’t do anything.”

“That’s what you believe, asshole.” She shakes her head. “Just—let me go.”

“Would be such a shame if a rumor spread around then that you were spotted in the bathrooms with one of the billionaires,” you say, blunt in your threat. “Wouldn’t you hate that? I hear there was a tabloid photo of you spotted with one of the presidential candidates too—”

“You lie.” Mina’s eyes glare at you. You don’t flinch.

She’s not wrong. You’re only telling a half-truth. It’s true that there were billionaires who attended. It would be a strange event if there weren’t any present, in Paris of all places. The report of a presidential candidate showing up is legitimate as well, but that’s as much as you know as the general public. What goes on inside, you have no knowledge of.

“And what happened there was nothing at all,” she adds. “So quit trying to blackmail me and just let me fucking rest.”

“Then explain this to me.” You point at the dress she’s wearing—your dress—and find different sized patches where they shouldn’t belong. They’re not by design; they’re clearly the result of some kind of external tampering or meddling. Around where her legs should be. Near her tummy. The gala is an indoor event, yet it looks as if she had been soaked in some capacity. 

Something’s quite off.

“So?” Mina defends herself, unwilling to concede. “Got spilled by drinks, and you don’t really care if it gets ruined.”

While it’s true you usually don’t mind your dresses getting ruined, it comes at a price. “I’m not mad. And yes, I don’t care if you do fuck all with that dress. Hell, that candidate is very lucky he got to clap that—”

“Shut up!” 

By instinct, Mina slaps you again.

You chuckle. The sore redness of your cheek isn’t going to silence you. 

As she tries to walk away, you grab her by the wrist again. Pull her close to your chest. She trembles, but can’t do anything to stop or shake you loose.

“So you admit? You got fucked by that candidate?”

“No!” Mina remains adamant in her tone. She twists your grip to free herself. “Just—fucking stop already!”

“Only if you blow me. Just a quickie.”

“What? Why?”

“As remittance for the ruined dress, of course. Remember? Ruined dress, ruined cunt.” You can’t help but grin as you remind her of the terms of your agreement. It’s not written in the contract, but a mutual trust shared between you and your muses. 

Mina sighs. A deal is a deal, even if it’s not signed on the dotted line. And she has the experience to show for it. Ultimately, she reluctantly agrees, sounding defeated in her response. “Fine. But after this, we’re fucking done.”

“I’m in a bit of a good mood today, so I don’t want your pussy,” you tell the disgruntled Mina, unbuckling your belt then unzipping your pants. “Not gonna lie, the thought of some future president fucking that cunt of yours makes me sick. Get on your knees.”

God, it feels wrong, but you’re enjoying every little moment of this, down to the finer details. The look of dissatisfaction on Mina’s face. The fact you can get her flustered with your teasing. The fact she’s obediently on her knees as you whip out your hard cock directly in front of her. She can tell you as many lies as she wants, but they have no firm ground to stand on. She’s not some stuck-up star unlike many others in that gala, but even she needs to be humbled once in a while.

“His dick is better than yours, anyway. I won’t miss this pathetic piece of shit,” she tells you, gripping to the hem of your dress, dodging every attempt to slip your shaft between her lips. 

All the more reason to plunge it deep in her throat.

“Is it? This piece of shit you love to ride on?” You grab your cock and pursue her evasive mouth. You have a hand planted on her scalp, holding her still, as she begrudgingly accepts your length between her lips slowly, in a losing effort to fight back. She gulps her throat, watching as her cheeks hollow, as drool begins to coat your sensitive shaft, until eventually, her seal is vacuum-tight and tension builds up in your groin. “This cock you want to use—fuck—”

Words fail you as you become reacquainted with the warmth of Mina’s mouth. She bobs her head back and forth, slipping a hand around the base of your shaft to stroke. Your cock is poking the back of her throat, your senses relaxing at the pleasure coursing through your body. You feel yourself slipping away—at the cold, at the heat of her sweltering lips, at the layer of saliva that fills every inch of your length. It’s all too much.

This is Mina’s least favorite position. She’d rather have you beneath her most of the time, relentlessly bouncing on your cock till you’re completely drained; it’s how most encounters with her go to the point you simply give up and expect yourself on the mattress as soon as you enter her room. None of that matters now, not when she needs your very shaft to fill her thirsty, dry mouth, as a palette cleanse from the boring gala and because she needs you as much as she utterly hates you.

She doesn’t like the thought of you above her. Her eyes can’t be bothered to look up. It’s a strange dynamic; she’s the celebrity, she’s supposed to have control, not you. Your hand tugs on her black hair, begging her for more, and it reinforces the idea. You love this. Mina, the quiet, cold personality that everyone wants to be like, is zealously sucking you off and you’re helpless to how incredible she is. The suction of her throat. The drag of her tongue on your head, then on the sides. The passionate hum of satisfaction. You recognize the smug grin etched on the corner her lips while she doesn’t bother to look back, knowing full well she can take you any way she wants and you’ll fucking love it. She’s so aggressive, yet perfectly paced. 

And she moves like she can read your mind—cum and saliva dripping from the corners, her tongue running laps around your balls, her mouth devouring you entirely with each entrance. Small, whiny sounds that resemble a choke—they’re nothing compared to the echoey moans you can’t help but make. You’re gasping for air as if she’s punctured a hole in your lungs—and to an extent, she has. Your body instinctively has to remind itself they’re leaning on air, because she’s making your spine contort in ways they shouldn't be twisting. 

Mina is quite used to this. The notion of having to suck a cock. Not just yours, but fans, higher-ups in suits, all kinds. She’ll tell you yours is the best one, and you’ll believe her. You can tell by personal experience. You shouldn’t let control slip, especially now, when such power is rarely vested on you, but you can’t help yourself. There’s some urgency in handling her, but it might be a little too late. Especially when—

“Mina,” you pant, and you sound so desperate. “So close, Mina. I’m so close. I’m gonna—”

She continues to create friction, and eventually fire. Her hands wring around your balls and your base, tightening the coil of pressure in your stomach and in your veins. Spiraling further and further out of control, you can feel your legs crumble in a last ditch attempt to hold on. With your remaining resolve, you cling to whatever semblance of clarity you can find. 

And she plunges her lips further into your length. Her tongue descends lower, to the underside of your balls. None of that disdain and hate from moments ago can be found, only zeal and passion. It’s not graceful in the slightest; it goes against everything her image represents, yet she’s so damn good at it, you can’t stomach the thought of her doing something this filthy, this obscene. The very idea breaks reality. Yet here she is, on her knees, a mouth filled by cock, encouraging you to cum without uttering a single word.

So you oblige her. 

You don’t give her the decency of asking. You just pour it all over her with reckless abandon. Yanking her by the scalp, swiftly pulling yourself away in the heat of climax, blasting thick warm seed all over her pristine features, using her visage as a canvas for all your repressed thoughts. Mina welcomes every drop, sticks her tongue out with an inviting stare, unfazed by all that hot load you’re shooting directly at her. Her professionalism is practically hardwired, second nature to allow herself to be used this freely. It’s more than personal satisfaction; it also pays the bills.

It’s a win-win.

“Happy?” she asks, propping herself back on her feet, using the top of the dress to clean herself. Not a waste when it’s sole purpose is to be one and done. 

The mess around your groin—residue sticking on your pants—answers her question. You can only nod in agreement as you clumsily and slowly gather your bearings. She shakes her head, amused at your predicament, but proud of her work.

Mina acts nonchalant, walks back to the hotel while you still work through your trousers, as if nothing ever happened. As if you weren’t moaning in public about how airtight her lips are around your cock. You hurriedly follow her, only to be met with a surprise waiting just past the entrance doors.

“I hope Paris has been kind to you so far, Miss Minari, because we certainly won’t be.”

Three comically mischievous men of similar stature and appearance, in nearly identical outfits (a simple shirt, coat, jeans and beret combination, how inspired) with the most cartoonishly evil looks on their faces. They could be anyone on the street. You can immediately tell they’ve been waiting for some time.

“Who are you?” you ask, stepping in front of your client. Mina looks nervous, quietly analyzing the three suspicious characters.

“Doesn’t matter who we are, even if we tell you,” replies the middle man, matter-of-factly. “We have no intention of hurting you.”

“If that’s the case, then please step aside. Miss Mina won’t be taking any requests and she’s very tired, sorry.”

“I don’t think so, buddy.”

“What?”

“We heard everything. You lucky bastard,” says the man on the left. “I don’t think Mina seems to be tired at all. In fact, I believe she wants more of it!”

All eyes turn to the person of interest, who seems to be in denial. Mina, this cold, calculated star, appears to have a harsh, sudden reaction. Offended by the comment, she angrily retorts, “No? What the hell are you saying?”

“Yeah, you heard the guy.” The third man steps forward, the other two close behind slowly approaching her. “It’s all over you. Don’t try to deny it. You enjoyed getting blasted all over that pretty face of yours!”

The three men nod in unison. You don’t have a firearm or any weapon on hand, but you’re willing to fight all three guys, even if you meet a terrible end. That’s the likeliest outcome. Lady luck seems to have disappeared on your side, but it’s part of the job, after all.

“Relax, girl. Again, we don’t wish to hurt you or your bodyguard.” The first man, the guy assuming leadership reiterates. It’s as civil and diplomatic as it sounds, but the looming threat remains prevalent. And it doesn’t do them any favors when they creep up towards both of you like wolves. “We just want what he has.”

“And what is it?” Mina frowns, hiding herself behind you, peeking over the shoulder, trembling.

“Oh, you know what we want, Miss Minari. Give it to us and then we’ll leave you alone.”

Where’s the security in this hotel, you wonder? The ground floor is dead empty of guests, which is to be expected, there’s hardly anyone at the front desk, and there are zero guards at the valet that normally wait for the next car to pull up. It’s midnight, what did you expect? 

“Can’t I give you guys some money instead?” she pleads, desperate. She’s no longer hiding herself, but standing side by side with you. Shaking. Nervous. “Name your price and I’ll pay it.”

“I don’t think that will work, miss.” The three men remain adamant. They have you trapped against the corner of the entrance door. Neither of you can hardly move, let alone run. “We’re in Paris. We can easily rob anyone for our keep.” 

Judging by the rather expensive watches and sneakers they all sport, they seem to have a point. 

“But please, we just want one. One round with the finest Japanese idol in the business. That’s it,” the first man adds, his cohorts nodding in agreement.

Mina turns to you, calling your attention. “Hey.” You’re on high alert, waiting for the moment for hell to break loose. She merely stares. Nothing comes out of her mouth, just an expressive, seemingly strange gaze that doesn’t register anything in your head, nor does it open up any sort of interpretation. And for a while, you don’t understand what’s happening or what’s her intent. The three guys seemingly wait, shrugging whenever you eye any one of them. There’s no rush; time seems to stop at that particular moment. You know their demand; you have ears. You just don’t know if Mina is actually serious about caving to the pressure.

—————

(And fucking hell, you’re so—so—screwed.)

You don’t know if Mina will recover after this. Specifically, her career.

Clothes scatter everywhere in the room, with no regard for cleanliness or the host’s decency. Mina is set in the middle of the mattress as its centerpiece. The star of the show. Her dress is bundled around her waist, baring her chest and legs, while every man is completely in the nude. She’s spread on her fours, with the two subordinates lined up parallel in front of her, the third right behind her. You plan to join after, when everyone’s seemingly tired, when you can have her all to yourself.

At least, that’s what you think will happen. You know she’s going to get used all night long. Mina’s bracing for impact, hoping she can walk out in one piece after this.

You’re holding your phone, ready to record every little thing that happens. It’s not by their request, but your own personal desire. You love seeing it—the notion of Mina getting her comeuppance. The two men in front of her waste no time, stroking themselves hard and slapping their cocks right into Mina’s face, spilling flecks of precum on her. You notice the giddiness in their expressions as they incline the idol’s chin up, nothing but unbridled lust on their faces. The only thing missing is hurling her around and ragdolling her.

“Such a pretty face deserves all this cum,” says the second guy. He’s on the pudgier side, evidently not meant to be in the same atmosphere, let alone the same bed as Mina. “I’ll have you know you were my bias, and you have the most numbers on my counter.”

Utterly shameless.

Meanwhile, the first guy, his colorful body filled with numerous tattoos, slaps Mina’s cheek hard. It ripples throughout her lithe figure, rattles the bed a little. She keens. He takes a moment to look at the hand that committed the sinful act. He’s shaking, in disbelief. He did that. It’s a moment in time, a monumental occasion. Anyone else in his position would be shouting in the streets, celebrating too. 

You would.

The third guy, this aged man who’s evidently in his mid-to-late forties and probably shouldn’t be consuming K-pop, continues to stroke himself to Mina’s face. Too bad her mouth can only fit one cock at a time. Her hand grabs his shaft and he grips her hair instead as she pumps him at a delicate pace. Their collective moans fill the room as each person assumes a position around Mina’s sensitive holes, filling them hastily. No technique, no patience whatsoever. 

It’s pornographic for all the wrong reasons. How it all came to be. The setup. The characters. The very scene itself. Down to the shitty camera recording. Not befitting of an idol such as Mina. It’s got its own charm, but for the most part, it's as disgusting as you imagined. You can’t believe she’d agree to this. At the same time, you can’t look away. It’s a car crash that you know is gonna happen, yet all you can do is watch helplessly—and stroke yourself hard to.

All three men have different rhythms in which they fuck Mina. Tattoos slowly pounding at her dripping cunt, accompanying each deep thrust with a loud smack of her ass. His one hand grabbing at the hem of whatever’s left of her dress, itching to rip it off. Mina’s moan is suppressed by Pudge’s cock protruding through her throat. A fistful of hair in his grip, the other on her flushed, reddened cheek. Expecting her to take his relentless rhythm, only for her gag with each pump into her airtight lips. As if he doesn’t know how giving head works. The oldest man loosens up, lets his body hang as Mina strokes his cock with her ironclad fingers, letting flecks of cum spread over her neck and her shoulders, content with letting her handle him how she wants. 

In a way, it’s admirable seeing Mina like this. Three cocks and all, her commitment to fanservice and satisfaction is any fan’s dream for their idol. You’ve seen it firsthand before, how she attends to each fan one by one, but to handle multiple without a single complaint is quite the accomplishment. She’s gonna take it, and she’s going to love it.

And in fact, she does. You’ve never seen her this dedicated and into pleasuring anyone. How she uses her other hand to seize Pudge’s cock, spitting and licking the head, setting him ablaze. Even as the man with the tattoos begins to wreck into her sopping cunt, foregoing leisure for speed—as her whines echo throughout the room—she maintains her composure the best she can. Even begging him to go harder, which he obliges. The bed’s quaking, seemingly closer to collapse, as the man screams to the ceiling, “Fucking tight—so close—cumming—aah—”

All three men are clinging to Mina in some capacity. On her waist, using her hair, or her shoulders—as they all appear close to their climaxes. Their collective groans of pleasure make this evident noise that warrants numerous calls of disturbance or concern. Imagine the commotion when the staff called in to investigate eventually finds out. The notion spurs Mina as she leans further into it—looks right into the camera as she licks up Pudge’s underside. As if demanding you to take the best shot of her while doing it. 

It’s scandalous—the way Mina uses her expressions to make herself look good even under duress. How she winks, sticks her tongue, twists her face into lewder and lewder reactions while the three men who seemingly have power over her, now fold under her control. If only you could step in and be a part of the show, but you can’t.

And she looks even better with cum all over her.

The three guys moan in unison for dramatic effect. As if it was part of the intended shot. One after the other, each man reaches their own orgasm and blasts their hot load onto some part of Mina’s body. None of them seem to find their way into what they initially wanted, which is her holes. Mostly—tattoos man is partly into a deep thrust when he meets his abrupt end, only filling part of her cunt with his seed before deciding to pull out and throbs onto her back, her legs instead. Pudge gets most of her face, which she happily accepts. But even with her mouth wide open, he can hardly land his cum onto her sweet lips. As for the old man, he was never a factor to begin with. He had spilled his cum on the side, on the shoulder, on some hair, on her fingers. He was done before the others even finished.

What an unexpected sight. 

You stand from the couch you’ve been sitting on, close in on the aftermath of their orgasms, watching as they stand lifeless around the centerpiece that is Mina, running her fingers over all the cum spilled on her body. This is child’s play to her, yet the most surprising thing is: she wasn’t expecting any of the three guys to finish this soon, let alone all three of them. She has this unsatisfied look in her eyes observing her conduits, the supposed ‘threats,’ as if they didn’t live up to her expectation.

“Did I look good?” she asks you, tilting up, resting her head on her palm.

You show her the phone, speed past the raw footage. She watches like she’s the director—which she kind of is.

“Mm—not good enough,” she adds, grabbing the phone and grabbing a tripod from the bedside drawer. “Set it up over there and do it again. They’re not leaving this until they get it right. And you’re gonna show them the way.”

Looking at their tired, exasperated faces, they’d rather be anywhere but here. 

As for Mina, she’s the most energetic you’ve seen her in a while, eager for more—and you’re gonna have to make some phone calls explaining why she isn’t at the airport by morning. 

—————

(A/N: woo missed another deadline/date but happy birthday Mina! By request/commission, so thank you for waiting and I hope it was to your liking. I do agree we need more subby Mina but in the end she owns all of us let's be real XD Thank you for reading!)

#smut #kpop smut #twice #mina

[requiemofrebellion]

@deathfavor ― * ― Send in 📜 and I’ll use this incorrect quotes generator using your muse and my muse.

📜 give it to me for them all ( or as many as you wanna do )

Draken, in a meeting: My policy is if you see something, say something. Hanma: I saw a squirrel in a tree today! Draken, with the tone of someone who is used to Hanma: Outstanding. Draken: This is what I’m talking about people.

&

Hanma: Whaddya call a fish with no eye? Draken, not looking up: Myxine Circifrons Hanma: Hanma: fsh

&

Kazutora: Is something burning? Hanma: Just my love for you. Kazutora: Hanma, the toaster is on fire.

&

Hanma: English is a difficult language. It can be understood through tough thorough thought, though. Kazutora: You need to stop.

Kisaki: Hanma was banned from the chicken shack, so we had to go out of town to get some. Hanma: Well, they shouldn’t say “all you can eat” if they don’t mean it. Kisaki: Hanma, you ate a chair.

&

Hanma: You saved me. I owe you my life. Kisaki: No thanks. I’ve seen it and I’m not very impressed.

&

Kisaki, tending to Kazutora's wounds: How would you rate your pain? Kazutora: Zero stars. Would NOT recommend.

&

Kazutora, standing with their back turned: I’ve been expecting you, Kisaki. Kisaki: How did you do that without turning around? Kazutora: ... To be perfectly honest, the first couple of people I did that to were not you.

&

Hanma, to Kazutora: My life is in the hands of an idiot! Kazutora, motioning to themself and Kisaki: No no no no no, TWO idiots!

&

Hanma: What did you do with Kisaki's body? Kazutora: What didn’t I do with the body? Hanma: Kazutora: Okay, that sounded more sexual than I intended. I disposed of the corpse respectfully.

&

Izana: I’m going to take you out Mikey: great, it’s a date! Izana: I meant that as a threat. Mikey: See you at five!

&

Mikey: I prevented a murder today. Izana: Really? How’d you do that? Mikey: self control.

&

Izana: Kakucho! My face is on fire! Kakucho: Izana! Are you ok?! Izana: Oh yes, I'm fine. I just said that to make sure you'd come in here quickly. Kakucho: But your face is on fire. Izana: Yes. It's much faster than shaving.

&

Kakucho: Violence isn't the answer. Izana: You’re right. Kakucho: *sighs in relief* Izana: Violence is the question. Kakucho: What? Izana, bolting away: And the answer is yes. Kakucho, running after them: NO-

&

Izana: On the count of three, what's your favorite cake? One, two, three- Izana and Hanma, in unison: Chocolate cake peanut butter frosting with chocolate chunks! Kisaki: Our turn, Kakucho! One, two, three- vanilla! Kakucho, deadpan: I've never had cake, what is cake.

&

Kakucho: *Screams* Izana: *Screams louder to assert dominance* Kisaki: Should we do something?! Hanma, observing: No, I want to see who wins this.

&

Mikey: Care for another sundae, weenie? Izana: I am not a weenie! Kisaki: Relax, you’re among friends. *raises their drink* Izana: My friends don’t hang out at Weenie Hut Jr’s. Hanma: You tell ‘em, Izana! *sips their drink* Izana: Hanma, what’re you doing here? Hanma: I’m always here on Double Weenie Wednesdays.

&

Mikey: Tonight, one of you will betray us. Izana: Is it me, Mikey? Mikey: No, it’s not you. Kisaki: Is it me, Mikey? Mikey: It’s not you either. Hanma: Is it me, Mikey? Mikey: Mikey, mockingly: Is IT mE Mikey?

&

Mikey: We’ve been conducting an ongoing study to see what Kisaki will and will not eat. Izana: Grass? Yes! Mikey: Moss? Yes!! Izana: Leaves? Ohh, yes! Mikey: Shoelaces? Strange but true! Izana: Worms? Sometimes! Mikey: Rocks? Usually nah. Izana: Twigs? Usually! Mikey: Kakucho's cooking? Inconclusive! Hanma: How did you… test this? Mikey: You just hand them stuff and say ‘eat this’ and if they eat it, they eat it. Hanma: ... I don’t know how to feel about this. Kakucho: IS THAT WHERE ALL MY SPARE SHOELACES WENT?

&

Kakucho: What does 'take out' mean? Izana: Food. Mikey: Dating Hanma: Murder Kisaki: IT CAN MEAN ALL THREE IF YOU'RE NOT A COWARD.

&

Hanma: *Kicks the door down looking panicked* Kakucho: What did you do? Hanma: Nobody died. Kakucho: WHAT KIND OF ANSWER IS THAT?!

&

Kakucho: Do you have any skeletons in your closet? Hanma: You mean literally or figuratively? Kakucho: Honestly, the fact that I have to specify...

&

Hanma: In my defense, I was left unsupervised. Chifuyu: Wasn't Kazutora with you? Kazutora: In my defense, I was also left unsupervised.

&

Chifuyu: If I die, my funeral is going to be the biggest party ever and you’re all invited Hanma: If? Kazutora: Great, the only party I’ve ever been invited to and they might not even die.

&

Chifuyu: I’m gonna need a human skull and I can't have you ask any questions why. Hanma: Only if you also don't ask why Hanma: *Pulls out 7 pristine human skulls* Take your pick. Chifuyu: Hanma: Chifuyu: This one is fine

&

Hanma: Do you take constructive criticism? Chifuyu: I only take cash or credit.

&

Hanma: Okay. I get it. You've had a really hard time lately, you're stressed out, seven people died- Lamia: Twelve, actually. Hanma: Not the point. Look, they're dead now and really whose fault is that? Lamia: Yours! Hanma: That's right: no one's.

&

Lamia: Name a more iconic duo than my crippling fear of abandonment and my anxiety. I'll wait. Hanma: You and me!!! Lamia, tearing up: Okay.

&

Chifuyu: Are you an ‘arr’ pirate, or a ‘yo ho ho’ pirate? Serpent: I’m a ‘I’m not paying $600 for photoshop’ pirate.

&

Serpent: That’s one of my biggest fears. Like, if I ever woke up as a donut... Chifuyu: You would eat yourself? Serpent: I wouldn’t even question it.

&

Machi: *holding a bottle* Is this whiskey or perfume? Chrollo: *chugs entire bottle* Chrollo: It’s perfume.

&

Chrollo: WHAT’S YOUR TYPE Machi: Anything, honestly, but nerds especially Chrollo, desperately, as Machi bleeds out: YOUR BLOOD TYPE Machi: Oh! B positive. Chrollo: DONT TRY TO CHEER ME UP JUST TELL ME YOUR BLOOD TYPE Machi:

&

Shinya: *Gets down on one knee* Byakkomaru: Oh my god, it’s finally happening. Shinya: *Falls over* Byakkomaru: The poison is kicking in.

&

Byakkomaru: Sorry it took me so long to bail you out of jail Shinya: No it’s my fault, I shouldn’t’ve used my one phone call to prank call the police

&

Shinya: This is such a bad idea. Horn: Then why are you coming along? Shinya: One of us need to be able to talk the cops out of arresting us when this inevitably goes wrong.

&

Horn: You often use humor to deflect trauma Shinya: Thank you Horn: I didn't say that was a good thing Shinya: What I'm hearing is, you think I'm funny

&

Killua: I actually have a black belt. Kalluto: In what, karate? Killua: No, from Gucci.

&

Kalluto: I turned out perfectly fine! Killua: Kalluto, this morning you thought a ghost made your toast Kalluto: I DIDN’T PUT THE BREAD IN! YOU DIDN’T PUT THE BREAD IN!!!

&

Inui: I know you’re deflecting by making jokes about how hot you are. Izana: It’s not a joke. Izana: *sniffles* Izana: I’m a legit snack.

&

Izana: Am I going too far? Inui: No, no, no. You went too far about seven hours ago. Now you're going to prison.

&

Draken: .. .----. -- / ... --- .-. .-. -.-- [translation: I’M SORRY] Kazutora: What's that? Draken: Remorse code. Kazutora: I'm even angrier now.

&

Kazutora, struggling to keep upright in their 1 inch heels: Yeah, I-I don’t really think heels are for me Draken, pointing at them and walking flawlessly in sparkly golden 6 inch heels: WEAK.

&

Kazutora: I'm incredibly fast at math. Mikey: Alright, what's 30x17? Kazutora: 47 Mikey: That's not even close. Kazutora: But it was fast.

&

Mikey: What’s up guys? I’m back. Kazutora: What the- you can’t be here. You’re dead. I literally saw you die. Mikey: Death is a social construct.

&

Mikey: I slept for almost 12 hours but I might still be tired so lets go for 12 more just incase. Hanma: Mikey, that's a coma. Mikey: Sounds festive.

&

Hanma: What if the 'g' in 'gif' is silent? Mikey: Go the fuck to sleep Hanma: What gif I don't want to? Mikey: Fuck You

#I BELIEVE I DID THEM ALL AND NO I AM NOT TAGGING IT WITH EVERY MUSE OMG #;; crack #deathfavor #i am crying and laughing and some of these are omg dffdgs spot on some of them LMAO

[cyborg-franky]

A selfish one for myself because it's been a bad time as of late and I didn't have many in my box for Marco.

Marco x GN Reader Prompt: Pumpkin spice latte date SFW Word Count: 583

“Try this,” Marco said as you looked at the mug with a quirked brow and sniffed it, it smelt and looked like coffee but had an aroma you’d never encountered before, he chuckled and sat down next to you on the tatty couch that occupied his office.

“What is it?” You asked as he set his down on the small side table, grabbing the large throw blanket that was hung up neatly over the back of the couch, taking it in both hands and flapping it open, you mumbled when he made an unwelcome breeze in the already chilly office.

You loved Autumn, later nights, and brighter stars but you didn't like how cold the ship could get, and with Ace busy elsewhere, you were unable to use him as a heater, and Marco’s flames always made him a little cool to the touch. You watched as your boyfriend set the blanket across both of you, pulling you closer to his side.

“Well, “ He started and picked his cup up again ‘#1 pineapple’ written on the side with a picture of said fruit, a gift from Haruta for his last birthday. “Thatch managed to get in the stuff, this is pumpkin spice and I thought you’d like to try it with me yoi.” He explained and smiled at you.

It did smell nice you mused, and it was such a touching thought that Marco wanted to try something new with you. It made your heart warm and happy despite the chill that nipped at your feet, a draft that squeezed in under the door and wafted along the floor.

Marco noticed this and with one arm he moved your legs up onto the couch, grinning at you when you felt better. “Go on, let’s try it.” Marco prompted and brought his cup to his lips, taking a sip of the freshly brewed coffee, closing his eyes, and savoring the taste and you did the same.

Both of you made a pleased sound, letting out a sigh in unison. You opened your eyes, looking up and meeting his gaze as you licked your lip, tasting the spicy flavor. Marco’s eyes were focused on the small gesture, his smile becoming a lazy smirk as he draped an arm around you.

“Good?” “Oh yeah, this has to be my new favorite thing.” You said and happily brought it to your lips again, taking a sip.

“Hmm that makes two of us, little bird.”

You both sat there, gently nursing your coffee, cuddled up on Marco’s tatty couch that had to have been older than you, a warm blanket draped across you both as you watched the lanterns in the office flicker softly from the breeze that persisted from the outside world, watching the shadows and shapes bounce across the walls of his office.

Just enjoying your time together. 

He set down his mug and took yours with it, you leaned against him as he pulled you closer, his beautiful blue eyes looking into your own as he leaned down for a kiss, you reached up bridging the gap and feeling his soft lips pressed against yours. Warm and soft and spicey from the coffee.

Marco pulled away, his hand on your cheek as he gazed at you with such love, you smiled and felt cherished in these gentle, simple moments between you and him. He sat back and you laid against him, hand on his chest, tracing his tattoo as you both enjoyed your evening together.

#marco the phoenix #marco the phoenix x reader #marco x reader #fushichou marco #marco x you #op marco x reader #marco x y/n #marco op #sfw #gender neutral reader #one piece reader inserts #one piece x reader #one piece x you #one piece x yn #one piece reader insert #one piece imagines #one piece scenarios #one piece x y/n

[royalswrath-blog]

#*:・ﾟ ` petra / adjourn my rage in my death. #*:・ﾟ ` musing / where devils dance and i am free. #*:・ﾟ ` aes / knives dull against the bone. #*:・ﾟ ` hc / deep within‚ away it’ll hide. #*:・ﾟ ` i / was it lonely up in space? #*:・ﾟ ` ii / was it a cold‚ abandoned place? #*:・ﾟ ` iii / will the stars ever forgive? #*:・ﾟ ` mara / stars sigh in unison. #*:・ﾟ ` uldren / beneath the wings of darkness.

[mellowswriting]

ambrosia

pairing || Steve Rogers x fem!Reader

summary || You’ve been having a hard week. There’s nothing Steve loves more than taking care of his girl. 

word count || 2,318

warnings || oral sex (f receiving), vaginal fingering, soft!dom Stevie, slight degradation but like... sweetly? idk, unprotected sex, slightest breeding kink if ya squint, slight cockwarming

a/n || Hello yes it is I, the local harlot here to bless you with some smut and feel goods in a totally not self indulgent fic bc I was having a hard week.

Main Masterlist  |  Join the taglist!

It had been nearly an entire week since you had seen Steve.

Normally, that wouldn’t have been a problem. Hell, there had been times where you didn’t see him for months when things got tricky on his missions. It was more the fact that in the time he had been gone, you had barely slept more than a handful of hours a night if you were lucky and the one thing that was like magic for your insomniac brain was Steve’s embrace. It all started when you accidentally stayed awake into the hours of the early morning. The muse had struck and given you the blessing of inspiration that quickly became a curse of not being unable to set aside your work until it felt just right. That wasn’t until three in the morning, of course. Then you napped the next day from the lingering sleepiness, effectively throwing your sleep schedule entirely out of whack.

Little things that usually would be a minor annoyance at best left you viscerally frustrated, each inconvenience building one upon another until you were left too overwhelmed to complete even the simplest of tasks. You managed to trudge your way through your other responsibilities, leaving you with only laundry and tidying the kitchen to concern yourself with but the pile of clean laundry that sat in front of you waiting to be folded felt impossible. Instead of feeling proud of how much you had already accomplished, you were angry with yourself for not getting more done. Tears of frustration pricked your eyes, which only made you feel even more ridiculous.

The sound of the front door opening and closing broke you out of your annoyed trance of glaring at the laundry basket and you quickly wiped the tears away when you heard a familiar voice calling from the entryway, “I’m home!”

“Hey,” You said, your voice cracking slightly as you greeted Steve as he paused to lean over the couch and kiss the top of your head.

“Are you okay?” Concern tinged his voice, his eyebrows furrowed on that pretty face of his as he studied your current state. Your mouth opened and closed, trying to find a way to say it without sounding pathetic but you couldn’t. Shoulders slumped, you leaned back into the cushions with a long sigh. “Oh, honey. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“I haven’t slept right in days.” You looked up at him with a pitiful look. “I haven’t slept right in days and I’m exhausted and I spent the entire day cleaning and the only thing I have left to do is this damn laundry, but I’m so tired, and -”

“Whoa, whoa,” Steve sat next to you to bring you into a firm hug, rubbing your back soothingly. If there was one thing you knew for sure, it was that your lover gave the best hugs. He made you feel like the only person in the entire world. “Let me help, okay?”

“What? No,” You grumbled stubbornly. “You just got back from a mission, Steve, you need to sit and relax.”

“It was just reconnaissance.” Steve assured you. “I sat in a car with Bucky for a few days and then sat in debriefings for a few more - the last thing I need is to be sitting around on my ass.”

“Language,” You teased gently, chuckling when he gave you a glare that held no real heat.

“Go on, get your book. Relax for a little bit and let me take care of things.” Steve’s voice had an air of finality about it. You knew that he took a special kind of pride in taking care of those he loved, so you listened.

There was no denying the relief that washed over you. The warmth of his presence next to you as he methodically began folding clothes and recounting some of the antics he had to deal with thanks to Sam and Bucky’s constant bickering helped some of the tension ease from your exhausted body. Not to mention just how good he looked - so good that you could barely focus on the novel in your lap. Sure, seeing him in his uniform was its own special kind of sexy, but there was something about those soft long-sleeves and comfortable jeans that felt… domestic. The sight of him with his sleeves rolled up as he took care of your mixed laundry made something stir in your belly.

“What else needs to get done?” He asked after he took the basket upstairs and put it all away.

“Just tidying up the kitchen,” You tossed the book onto the coffee table and reached up to him with grabby hands that you knew he couldn’t resist. “Plus giving me kisses.”

Steve leaned down with a little grin, balancing himself on one knee against the couch cushions, and kissed you deeply. The little moan he gave against your lips when you eagerly accepted the teasing of his tongue made you shiver.

“You taste sweet.” He whispered as he crowded you closer into the couch, both hands cupping your face in a firm but gentle grip.

“Had strawberries before you came home.” You held him close by the collar of his shirt, probably stretching it out but you couldn’t really give a damn when he felt so good against you. “Forget cleaning, it can wait.”

“Yeah?” Steve teased, his face mere inches from yours as he gave you those hooded, hungry eyes that made your stomach flip. “Whatcha wanna do instead?”

“You.”

The cheekiness of your reply made him snatch you up, putting that super soldier strength to good use with a desperate grip on the soft flesh of your thighs. It was far from the first time he showed off his strength like that, but each time made your stomach flip in excitement just thinking about all of the things he could do to you. You hooked your ankles around his waist, your arms keeping you steady where they wrapped around his shoulders as he marched you upstairs and into your bedroom to drop you onto the mattress. Your thighs rubbed together at the sight of him standing over you, the rise and fall of his chest growing faster along with the hunger in his eyes.

“You work so hard, baby. Let me reward you.” He purred, tracing your ankle where the hem of your leggings ended, and his face lit up at your desperate nodding. You whined at the familiar need tightening in your belly over the strength behind his hands as he pushed your thighs open wide, his fingertips ghosting along your covered pussy. “Such a good girl for me…”

“Steve, please…” You whimpered, desperately pulling off your leggings. This little game of his, the teasing and soft touches ramping up into hot needy fucking, was something you had no issue playing any other time, but right now you couldn’t handle the wait. Steve caught on quickly and helped pull the clothes away from your legs before he ripped his shirt over his head.

“So needy for me, huh?” Steve slowly unzipped his jeans and pushed them down his legs. “Shirt off and lay your head on the pillows. I’ll take care of ya, sweetheart.”

You scrambled to follow his command, not missing the smirk your obedience garnered. The softness of his domination was addicting, left you yearning to hear the filthy praise that dripped from his lips like the sweetest ambrosia that could cure your every ache. Steve followed you up the bed, his briefs the only scrap of clothing left on his body, but before you could admire how gorgeous he looked, his hand hooked around your ankle to yank you closer. A sharp, surprised laugh melted into a moan when he finally got his mouth on you. His tongue rolled against your clit without preamble, completely abandoning the teasing to give you exactly what you were begging for.

“Oh fffuck!” You bit out, your head falling back into the pillows as your hips jolt up, and Steve chuckled darkly as he set his forearm over your hips to hold you in place, his other hand gripping your thigh hard enough to bruise. You grabbed a handful of his short hair in retaliation, a delighted smile lighting up your face at the groan you got in return.

Fuck, he felt too good, knew your body too fucking well. You grew more and more wet with each pass of his tongue against your clit, your hips rolling in time with his ministrations as the two of you found a familiar rhythm.

“There you go, baby.” Steve encouraged as he eased a finger into your dripping pussy with a downright sinful groan, quickly adding another. “So fuckin’ wet for me.”

The dual pleasure of his fingers and tongue made you see stars, made your back arch and your thighs squeeze his head until your orgasm washed over you in a devastating wave. It wasn’t until you shoved him back by his head that he finally stopped his tortuous pleasure. The sight of him wiping the wetness from his mouth with the back of his hand still had your belly tightening with need.

“You did so good.” Steve murmured, pressing a kiss to your thigh, then your navel, kissing a trail between your breasts and up your neck until he met your lips. You moaned at the filthy act of tasting yourself on his tongue. “Look so pretty when you come.”

The combination of his praise and the not-so-subtle press of his cock against your thigh had you keening beneath him, your leg hooking over his waist to drag him close enough to grind against the bulge in his briefs.

“Feel that?” He practically growled as he rutted down against you shamelessly. “That’s all for you baby. Gonna stuff your pretty pussy full’a my cum and you’re gonna say thank you for it too, you hear me?”

“I will, I promise… I promise, Stevie.” You babbled, losing any comprehensible thought other than the absolute dismay that he wasn’t absolutely wrecking you already. “Please fuck me?”

“Since you asked so sweetly,” Steve rid himself of his last scrap of clothes like they were burning him and entered you in one fluid thrust that had the both of you moaning in unison. His forehead fell to your shoulder as he let you adjust, hips swirling in tiny circles of their own accord because you felt so fucking good. “Ssso fuckin’ tight,”

The light desperation in your whimper made him smirk, his teeth sinking into your shoulder before soothing the mark with a lick of his tongue. “This is what you needed, huh baby? Just needed to relax on my cock...”

“S-Steve…” Was all you could manage, your eyes unfocused as he gave that first tentative thrust, followed quickly by a sharp, deep rhythm that made you see stars.

“Cockdrunk already?” He cooed but his cocky tone broke as you clung to him, your fingers digging into the muscle of his biceps as you used those thighs he adored against him, dragging him closer, deeper. “Fuckin’ needy little thing, aren’tcha? That’s okay, sweet baby, I got whatcha need.”

Steve pulled away and for a moment you clutched tighter, trying to keep him against you, but he pushed your legs back to your chest with a strength to be reckoned with, the new position making you feel infinitely more full and he growled at the feeling of you tightening around him. There were already fingertip bruises forming on your thighs where he held you right where he wanted you as his thrusts became faster, more desperate with his impending release, with the damn near feral need to see his cum leaking from your fucked out pussy.

It was the pressure of his thumb against your clit that forced you to find your words, your sweet cries of ‘please, please, please’ egging him on to roll his thumb until your hips jerked under the stimulation. You were so sensitive, so responsive to every little touch, it drove him fucking crazy.

“Come on my cock like a good girl,” Steve gritted out, angling his hips to grind his cock against that sweet spot that made you arch against him so prettily. “Thaaaat’s it…”

You broke underneath him, your second orgasm ripping through you in an intense burst that stole the breath from your lungs, leaving you to gasp as you shuddered. It was his favorite sight, watching you fall apart beneath him, and Steve let your leg settle around his waist once more to chase the high he balanced upon in faltered thrusts until he couldn’t hold back any longer. His pelvis pressed flush against your sweat-slick skin, some basic instinct demanding he shove himself as deep into your sensitive pussy as he could to fill you up.

He let himself melt against you, his full weight keeping you pressed against the mattress as he softened inside you, the both of you trying to catch your breath in the aftermath. You carded your fingers through his hair lazily, eyes closed as you let the satisfied exhaustion soak into you, grinning when your still fluttering walls made Steve hiss slightly. He still kept himself buried inside of you - so typical of him.

Sighing happily, Steve nuzzled his face further into your neck to trail sloppy kisses along your neck, pausing every now and then to lean back into your hand. Playing with his hair was the number one way to get him all warm and snuggly, especially if he was exhausted from giving you a thorough fucking. He gingerly eased himself off of you only to pull you close so you could lay your head on his chest, the rhythm of his heartbeat lulling you even closer to sleep.

“Go to sleep, honey.” Steve rumbled, his voice full of his own exhaustion. “I’ll be right here when you wake.”

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers fanfiction #marvel fanfiction

[hqamore]

boreal star ✵ alt ch. seven ½

alina and mal have escaped, but alina feels terribly guilty for leaving [y/n] behind. she knows she can’t save her with just two people. will someone please help her?

chapter genre: crack? plot twist?

word count: 779 words

note: reader is female and this is a continuation of chapter seven! please go read chapter seven before this one!

author’s babble: this is sort of crack? idk i realized, because i wrote a gn!reader, i can’t do certain things. so, for readers who don’t mind a female![y/n], this is an alternative route. °˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°

here’s the masterlist

“there’s a light coming from that barn.”

mal looked over alina’s head to see that light was indeed peaking through the cracks of the barn when it suddenly disappeared. as alina feigned offense, he was suspicious. the fact that the smoke was coming from a put-out fire peeved him as odd. only people who had to hide would be so quick.

“please slow down,” alina said to the stag.

to both of their surprise, it did. then, mal jumped off the stag and held his arms open for alina. she gave him a pointed look and jumped off herself.

“hello?” called alina. “we aren’t here to hurt you. we just need a place to stay for the night.”

mal shook his head. “alina, i don’t think we should stay here. they might be dangerous.”

with a puff of her chest, she grinned. “between your fighting skills and my powers, i think we’ll put up a pretty good fight.”

he rubbed his face in concession and pulled out his gun. alina strode forward. she summoned light as she entered the barn, then waved her hand around to illuminate the dark corners. mal stayed by the door, dividing his attention between the stag and the barn.

“well, that’s weird. there’s no one here, mal.”

alina skipped out of the barn with a smile. “whoever was here must’ve left a candle burning.” she lifted the burnt-out lantern to his face.

he lowered his gun, still alert. “then, i guess we can stay here for the night.”

already, alina was guiding the stag inside. mal softly snorted and moved out of the way.

“okay, we’re gonna sleep in here. so, stay.” alina pointed to the beds of hay. again, to their surprise, the stag listened and settled in the beds of hay.

alina laughed. “i must look like a raging lunatic talking to the stag.”

“not more than usual,” mal mused.

at that, alina threw straws of hay at him that fell before reaching him. he chuckled and made his way over to the fire pit. it was still warm which made him more paranoid. he moved the wooden box to the otherside so he could face the barn.

alina joined him as he used his flint and stone to start a fire. she hummed at the warmth and huddled in the coat [y/n] gave her. after a moment, she looked solemn.

“do you think [y/n]’s okay?”

“i’m not sure. she probably got taken by kirigan’s men…” alina looked guilty, so mal offered a lopsided smile. “but, i’m sure with her powers, she’ll get out alright. could probably fly out of there.”

it didn’t seem like his words gave her much comfort as she stared into the fire. “we should go save her. we have no idea what general kirigan could do to her.”

mal sighed. “alina, i want to. but, we do know what kirigan will do to you and the stag should he catch you. [y/n] stayed behind so we could escape. i’m sure she wouldn’t do that if she didn’t have a plan to get out.”

“yes, she would.”

mal and alina jumped, mal reaching for his gun and alina with light at the ready. mal looked in the direction of the barn to see a girl in dark clothing. she walked towards them as mal trained his gun on her. she raised her arms in surrender when alina spoke. “didn’t you kidnap me?”

the girl laughed. “i believe you climbed into our carriage willing, miss starkov.”

“how did you find us?” mal asked.

“i was here before you,” she said.

alina tilted her head, lowering her hands. “what did you mean by ‘she would’? do you know [y/n]?”

“unfortunately… she’s my mother.”

ironically, crickets chirped in the dead silence.

“your mother?” several voices yelled in unison.

startled, mal pointed his gun towards the new voices and found three more people. the girl turned around and waved her friends over.

“i swear we mean no harm,” she said.

the man with the cane scowled. “is that why you didn’t want to be in the palace?”

she sheepishly laughed before returning her attention to alina and mal. “my name is irina and this is my boss, kaz. the one with twin pistols is jesper and the one staring at alina is inej."

mal nodded. “i’m mal.”

“and you already know my name,” alina said with her impossibly bright smile.

“okay! since we’re done with introductions, you said she’s been captured by general kirigan?”

alina grimaced and nodded, fidgeting with the sleeve of her coat. “she helped us escape.”

“she’s so self-sacrificing,” irina groaned and rubbed her face. “okay, what’s our plan?”

author’s babble pt.2: gasp! a child ヽ(＊>∇<)ﾉ we’ll see where this goes. if it goes anywhere at all lol. pls tell me your thoughts and if you think this should just be the main route.

#boreal star #alt route #shadow and bone #shadow and bone fanfiction #grishaverse fanfiction #shadow and bone imagine #general kirigan x reader #general kirigan imagine #the darkling x reader #the darkling imagine #aleksander morozova x reader

[psychdelia]

christmas used to be billy’s favorite holiday. he loved setting up the tree every year with his mom, matching big smiles on their faces as she carried him to set the star on top. he would help her cook and bake, dance around the kitchen with her. she always surprised him with more gifts than he anticipated, and he would give her a card with messy handwriting and glitter and a drawing of the two of them with i love you mommy scribbled on the bottom.

and then she left and christmas joy was replaced with pain. his father screaming and presenting him with fists instead of gifts. and then max and susan came along and she was their little angel. spoiled with gifts and love while he received nothing but hurt.

billy hates christmas now. hates the holidays in general, but christmas the most. spends all day sulking, curled up in bed and crying. neil gets on him about it, maybe smacks him around before leaving him even worse than how he started. he lost all hope that maybe she’ll come back as a christmas miracle, scoop him up and take him away from all the hurt.

his plan for the day was to stay in bed. avoid the world. but then neil came barging in, demanding billy get off his ass and take max to the byers’ for a christmas party. he was stupid to think that he could catch a break after being forced to ‘celebrate’ with them yesterday, which essentially meant being forced to help susan in the kitchen and watch max get showered in love and gifts while he received nothing.

so he got up. threw on a dark green sweater, tight jeans and boots, still not nearly warm enough for hawkins winter. he silently drove max to the house, only looking at her when she didn’t get out after a minute of being parked.

“what.” billy spoke flatly, his first word of the day.

“come and hang out with us.” max rushed out, nervously fidgeting with the hem of her sweater.

billy just sighed.

“i’m not really in the mood to hang out with a bunch of snotty little shits, so,” he shrugged. “maybe next year.”

“it’s not just us! nancy and jonathan are there. and mrs. byers and chief hopper! and,” a pause. “robin and steve.” she added on quietly.

“max i don’t really think-“ he was interrupted by a knock on his window. he turned to find a very happy and smiling mrs. byers eagerly waving at them.

“come inside!” she urged as billy rolled his window down.

billy just looked at max and gestured towards the house, ignoring her dramatic defeated groan before she got out.

“you too!” joyce grabbed billy’s shoulder, smile faltering at the way he flinched, her touch unexpected. “max told me you guys already celebrated yesterday. what’s another celebration?”

“i don’t think it’s a good idea mrs. byers.” he replied with a small smile, hoping to charm his way out of this situation.

she sighed. “honey, it’s your second and probably last christmas in hawkins before you go to school back home.” she responded to his shocked expression with a sad smile. “we all figured you’d be applying to schools there. and max might’ve slipped up. don’t be mad at her! she’s just scared to lose you, is all.”

billy frowned and looked down at his hands. he hadn’t even told her he was only applying to schools in california. just trying to graduate and get the hell out of indiana, go back home.

“come on, kiddo. your sister would appreciate it.” a pause. “i’ll spike your eggnog.”

billy sighed, taking a few seconds to contemplate before getting out of the car.

“oh you must be freezing.” joyce rolled her eyes as she tugged at his sweater. “you kids and your fashion. you’re gonna get yourself sick like this. hawkins isn’t california!”

billy snorted. “duh.” he mumbled as she dragged him inside.

billy should’ve expected the stares. the guarded, confused and slightly angry expressions at his presence. he felt small, being glared at by nearly everyone in the room. he wanted to turn around, walk right back out that door. almost did if it weren’t for joyce stopping him in his tracks and holding his arm.

“oh, stop that you brats.” joyce huffed. “it’s christmas. be nice! and if you can’t be nice… no more cookies.” she smirked as they all groaned in protest in unison.

billy didn’t really care about the kids. he apologized to lucas not too long after that night, even agreed to the stupid deal to drive him around town and rev his engine to receive his forgiveness in full. it took him longer to approach steve, though. didn’t have the balls to do it until a couple months before steve graduated. he found him alone in the library, studying to get his gpa high enough to be able to graduate and get his diploma.

“can i sit here?” billy gestured towards the empty chair across from steve, who was glaring at him.

“only if you don’t give me another concussion.”

billy gnawed on his bottom lip as he slid into the seat, staring at the table and avoiding eye contact like a goddamn child.

it took him a minute to finally look up and spit out those two words he’d been meaning to say since that night. but it wasn’t the apologizing he dreaded most, it was the explanation and conversation that followed. he expected steve would ask questions, and shit did he have a lot.

billy kept his answers short, general. didn’t spill too much about all the shit going on in his life and in his head. steve didn’t look satisfied with his answers, but he eventually stopped asking questions. gave billy a stiff nod with a,

“yeah. fine. i accept your apology, i guess. just don’t fuck with me or the kids anymore.”

and that was that. billy kept his distance from them altogether. he occasionally carted lucas and max around for their stupid little dates, teasing them here and there. but it was never malicious.

now he stood right in front of the door in joyce’s house, itching to get out. lucas, max and her friends el and will were the only ones not staring at him apprehensively. the curly haired one was whining, asking why he had to be there, throwing in a few words he was probably too young to be saying. boy wheeler was following suit, making grand gestures and calling him an asshole. nancy looked just as prissy as always, turning her nose up. jonathan avoided eye contact. steve wasn’t quite glaring, but he didn’t look too happy to see him either. just because they were on okay terms didn’t mean they were on great terms. his girl robin didn’t seem too thrilled either.

“i’m just gonna..” billy pointed towards the table filled with drinks and snacks. he walked away as the commotion continued behind him, helping himself to the bowl labeled adult eggnog. he grimaced after the first sip before pouring himself a little more.

it was hard to make himself comfortable. he sat stiff and tense on the edge of the couch, as far away from everyone as he could get. the burn of the rum didn’t do much to heal the hurt in his chest, the pain of abandonment and grief he felt this time every year. he tried to tune everyone out, ignoring the kids yelling as they played video and board games, hopper as he snuck the teenagers more eggnog and beer, joyce as she continued to force feed everyone her christmas appetizers.

he found himself staring at the tree, messily decorated to the brim and a little lopsided. his gaze shifted to the walls, family pictures of just the brothers, then joyce and the brothers, and some including hopper and el. he was unconsciously playing with the chain around his neck, chest getting tighter and tighter. he forced his eyes away from the pictures to find jonathan helping joyce cook and set up dinner in the kitchen, laughing and smiling.

that was his breaking point. he set down his empty cup and sped off to the bathroom, scrubbing at his wet eyes. he shut the door behind him, pacing back and forth, trying to breathe through the lump in his throat. he eventually gave up trying to fight the tears off, a christmas tradition for him at this point. he eventually sat down in and slumped back against the bathtub, closing the curtains and shielding him from the rest of the world. he tuned out the music and chatter from outside, instead hugging his knees to his chest and hiding his face in his hands as he cried.

he knew he shouldn’t have listened to joyce. he shouldn’t have gotten out of his car and stepped foot into this house. he should’ve just gone home and lay in bed all day, much less embarrassing than crying in a goddamn bathtub with people right outside.

but here he was, trying to make up for lost time and bonding and memories with max, to show her that he cares and loves her and isn’t going to abandon her like his mother. and yet he was alone, abandoned and abandoning max in just 5 months. his chest hurt as he cried harder, tears freely slipping down his cheeks and staining his stupid sweater. he was nearly wheezing for air, not getting enough in between his sobs.

he must’ve been too loud because he didn’t hear the door open and shut. didn’t even know he wasn’t alone until steve pulled back the curtain, stunned to find him curled up there and crying.

billy wanted to snarl at him, glare at him with a smartass comment about the bathroom being occupied, but all that came out when he opened his mouth was another choked sob.

“shit, man, you don’t look so good.” steve spoke the obvious. “hargrove, you gotta breathe. don’t want you turning blue on me.”

billy turned away, shielded his face with his arms for god knows what. maybe he was expecting a punch, to be told he was a little bitch for crying like this. but all he received were hesitant hands gently prying his wrists away from his face.

“hey.” steve murmured, now only inches away from him. billy didn’t realize he climbed into the tub with him, kneeling before him in the cramped space.

“fuck off.” billy breathed out, all bark no bite, trying to pull his arms away from steve’s grip. but steve didn’t let up.

“why? so you can suffocate yourself to death in mrs. byers’ bathroom?” steve mused, rubbing circles into billy’s wrists with his thumb. “not gonna happen.”

“i don’t need-“ he choked up, words cracking as more tears unleashed. “i don’t need a fucking babysitter.”

“i know.” steve let go of his wrists, sitting back against the opposite end of the small tub. billy almost whimpered at the loss. was so glad he could will himself against at least one thing.

“what about a friend?” steve took in the way billy’s eyes shifted towards him, expression guarded. “look, man, you’re graduating and leaving next summer,” how many people had max told? “and you’re obviously going through some shit so i don’t see why i can’t at least try to help you through this so we,” he sighed as he gestured between them. “so we can be friends and not on bad terms anymore because i’m tired of having enemies.” he rushed out, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “i know what it feels like to want to leave this shithole, trust me. robin already applied to schools in cali too and i was maybe thinking about going with her and if we end up in the same place then maybe we can all be friends and help each other out.” he rushed out again.

billy just stared at him, bottom lip quivering pathetically. here steve was, offering to be his friend and follow both him and robin all the way to california. he’d be stupid if he didn’t take the offer.

“what? you following your little girlfriend out to cali for her to dump you on your ass like the last one?” billy was never too bright in the friendship industry.

“what? no. robin’s not - we’re not like that. we’re just friends.” steve frowned. “i already applied to some community colleges out there. but this isn’t about that right now.” he waved his hand dismissively. “you gonna tell me what’s up with you now? a secret for a secret?”

billy opened his mouth to try and reject the offer, to tell steve to fuck off again, but another sob wracked his body. he let out a frustrated groan through his tears as he scrubbed uselessly at his eyes.

“fuckin’ hate christmas.” he choked out, grabbing onto the saint necklace. his mother’s. “it-“ a whimper. “it was my favorite. at least until my mom,” he shut his eyes tightly, tears spilling out of the corners. “she just. up and left. left me with no note or explanation and a piece of shit father.” he exhaled shakily. “he beat her. and when she left..” he trailed off, gesturing towards himself. “there were no more fucking homemade pies or trees or gifts. just him. always drunk and angry every christmas, blaming me for her. then max and susan came into the picture and they had their perfect little family. celebrated every year.” the without me went unspoken.

billy hadn’t realized steve was inching closer and closer to him until he looked up from the bathtub and found steve inches away from him again, eyes big and sad as they looked over him.

“what are you-“ billy didn’t get to finish his sentence before he was enveloped in a big hug, the guy squeezing him tightly.

“hugging you.” steve mumbled into his shoulder, forcing billy’s face into the crook of his neck. in no time he was crying yet again, right into steve’s fucking shoulder.

steve was good at hugs. good at comfort. the way he rubbed all along billy’s back, one arm secured around his waist made him feel safe in a way he hadn’t in probably a decade. he let himself go again, freely ugly crying into his expensive and soft christmas sweater, clinging onto the material with weak, shaky fists.

“i didn’t know.” steve finally spoke after a minute. “shit, man, no one knows anything about you. i figured your dad was a hard ass after we talked about the fight but not that bad.” he pulled back just an inch, catching billy’s eyes with his own. “does anyone else know?”

billy shook his head.

“why don’t you tell hopper?” steve frowned. “that’s not normal or okay.”

“no point.” billy shook his head. “i turned 18 in november. can’t do jack shit now but wait until i graduate.”

“then move out.” steve said it like it was easy. like he could afford it, like he had anywhere to go.

billy laughed but it was more sad than humored.

“and where would i go?”

“with me.” steve’s response was immediate, no hesitation. “my dad’s always gone on business trips and my mom’s italian.” he said it like it was self explanatory. billy’s confused expression prompted him to continue. “she can’t stand bad parents and she loves company. you’re another mouth to force feed, too. she makes great pasta.”

billy shook his head. “i can’t just move in with you. what if they say no or-or it doesn’t work.”

“they won’t say no.” steve assured. “come on.” he urged. “it’s just one more semester and then we’re off to the golden coast.” he smiled dumbly. “it’ll work. trust me.”

billy went silent. thought about it for a minute. what it could be like to get out of that house. live and be friends with steve. go back home with him later on.

billy slowly nodded. “okay.” he mumbled. “okay.” he repeated again, louder and solidified.

they’d make it work.

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #oof #crybaby billiam rights #hurt/comfort #billy hates christmas #but steve will get him to love it again in no time dw folks #starcourt never happened in this btw #it’s just what s3 should’ve looked like if the writing was… idk… good… #give me billy’s happy ending saying fuck neil #give me robin and steve and billy being gay icons and road tripping to california #give me roommates harringrove who fall in love

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Built on a Lie

Prompt: I like the possible idea of Janus being a absolutely crushed to find Roman bleeding out due to a bruised ego in his room after pof was uploaded. After all most Sander Sides Fans hated Roman after he mocked Janus's Name.

Thanks for the prompt, babe! I hope it’s what you wanted!

Read on Ao3

Pairings: arguably roceit i guess??? it’s just focused on them, can be platonic or romantic if you want. same with LAMP, DLAMP, DLAMPR

Warnings: sympathitic janus even if it might not seem like it, sympathetic feral protective remus, roman is a hurt boi

Word Count: 5010

The wedding is tough.

After the wedding is an ordeal.

After after the wedding…hurts.

The Mindscape is all but deserted. No one wants to come out to the common areas for risk of running into someone who they had…disagreements with or getting swept up in a painfully awkward conversation. Patton lingers in the kitchen, Virgil almost never opens his door, Logan works, and Remus, well…Remus is the only one still behaving as normal.

Janus is grateful for his consistency.

In all honesty, and oh, the irony, he doesn’t enjoy this. He doesn’t enjoy the others walking on eggshells constantly, nor does he thrill at how they seem to jump at everyone, not just him. His point was made. That is his job.

But he’s not so sure he fully anticipated the cost.

At the very least, Logan seems to get over their troubles first. He approaches Janus a few days after the wedding and offers one of his philosophy books. Janus accepts it gratefully and by the time he’s finished it, Logan starts talking again. It’s not the greatest thing for the Mindscape that Logan is willing to talk to the others again.

Patton comes around next, simply because he’s the kindest. Janus pities him a little for it. But sure enough, the common areas start to ring again, drawing Remus out from the depths to cause his chaos.

Virgil appears next, summoned by the repeated calling of Remus’s antics and Janus’s exasperation. And sometimes, well, sometimes it seems like they’re back in their hallway, with Patton and Logan looking on with the air of some bemused anthropologists.

All the Sides reemerge and start trying to figure out what’s going on except for Roman.

Roman is nowhere to be found.

“He…he just needs some more time, I’m sure.”

“Roman is prone to fits of dramatics. It is unsurprising that he chooses to have a repeat performance.”

“Princey’s a bit of an asshole, it’s gonna take him a while to own up to what he did.”

“Catch!”

Janus grunts and staggers under Remus’s weight, eventually getting them both with their feet back under them on the floor. He adjusts his hat and looks disapprovingly at the amount of slime Remus has managed to get all over himself.

“What were you even doing?”

“Exploring the precise relationship of viscera to ventricles inside the heart of a blue whale!” Remus shakes his sleeve. “They lied about how bit the veins and arteries are.”

“How did you—nevermind,” Janus sighs, “I don’t want to know. Now, will you answer my question or not?”

Remus shrugs. “Dunno. Not paying attention.”

“…Roman’s not or you’re not?”

“I’m not!” He flicks some slime at Janus’s hat. “But you should be!”

“Yes, well, when slime starts to emerge from every corner again, I’ll chase you down.”

“Ooh, promises, promises.”

Janus doesn’t hurl some of the slime at Remus as he sinks out.

Roman still hasn’t appeared and the others are starting to notice. Thomas isn’t exactly in a position to do a whole lot of things, but at the very least he’s not doing what he perhaps should have been capable of. Logan notices and at first, chalks it up to the fact that they are in a pandemic; lapses in peak physical and mental performance are not unexpected, but it quickly becomes clear that it’s a little more than that.

The Mindscape grows dimmer, more sluggish. Thomas doesn’t seem to want to do much of anything, let alone work.

“I don’t understand,” Patton mumbles one afternoon when they meet—sans Roman—to try and figure out what’s going on, “I know I’m having a few—um, it’s not Thomas’s feelings that are causing us problems.”

Janus doesn’t make a note of how Virgil quickly presses his arm against Patton’s shoulder.

“There are certain things that are to be expected under times of great stress,” Logan muses, “and certainly any pre-existing problems will be exacerbated, but…this was not anticipated.”

Remus cranks the chainsaw and sets about carving up a new slice of…whatever he’s working on. “We’re in a pandemic, Spectacles!”

“I am wildly aware.”

Virgil stares at the chainsaw—which is fair—then up to Remus. “You ever been in a pandemic before, Remus?”

“Nope!”

Virgil rolls his eyes. “Okay, so that makes sense. But L’s right, this feels…weird. Like we’re missing something pretty big.”

In unison, they all look towards Roman’s seat.

The room falls as quiet as it can with Remus’s chainsaw still in the background.

The big, red, overstuffed armchair looks…different, without Roman lounging in it. The blinds aren’t drawn but it looks like the coloring has faded significantly, as though it’s been out in the sun for far too long. The seams look as though they’re struggling and there’s a dark imprint on one of the arms.

It’s not a shock to Janus to discover he’s never really looked at the chair before.

“Has anyone heard from Roman,” Logan asks quietly, “since the wedding?”

Virgil shakes his head, glancing around. Patton looks down at his chest.

“You think this is Roman.” It’s not a question.

“HIs tantrums do not normally last for this long,” Logan continues, adjusting his tie, “and whilst I admit that perhaps our circumstances have contributed more than I anticipated, I do not believe that is how Roman feels.”

“Princey has been away for a really long time.”

“Thomas is starting to get hurt by it,” Patton mumbles, laying a hand on his chest, “I can—I’m starting to feel it a little.”

“So we need to get Princey’s head out of his ass again.”

Logan sighs. “Most likely.”

“I didn’t want to rush it,” Patton says, glancing at Janus, “but you guys are right. I think he’s being selfish now.”

At the word ‘selfish,’ Remus freezes.

The chainsaw splutters and dies to the floor with a heavy clunk.

“Remus,” Patton scolds, “be careful with the…”

He trails off when he notices what the rest of them have.

Remus is standing completely still—an impossibility for Remus—his head tilted back, eyes fixed on a point in the ceiling. His nose quivers, almost like a bloodhound.

His nose twitches.

His lip curls up into a snarl.

His morning star appears in his hand with a growl as he tears off toward the stairs.

“Remus? Remus!”

“Wait!”

“What the fuck is going on?”

“Remus!”

Janus closes his eyes, reaching out to see if he can tell where Remus is going. His eyes shoot open.

“Roman’s room. Now.”

Virgil grabs Logan and Patton and sinks out.

Janus tries to appear in Roman’s room only to hit something burning cold. He hisses and flinches away from it, only to realize that he hasn’t materialized properly and is stuck. The burning cold reaches further, further, into his scales, digging under them, until Janus yanks himself away and appears, panting, in the hallway outside Roman’s door.

Virgil appears too, still holding the others. “What the fuck was that?”

“Did he block us out?”

“None of us have the ability to do that, other than Thomas.”

“Did he get Thomas to block us out?”

“I don’t know!”

A loud crash jerks their attention to Remus. He raises his morning star again and drives the spikes deep into the bright red of Roman’s door.

…that isn’t nearly as bright as it should be.

Remus snarls again and wails against the door. The wood starts to creak and buckle under the onslaught. He hefts the weapon again and shatters the door with a thunderous crack.

The morning star is hastily flung aside as Remus claws at the splintered wood, yanking it away from the hole he’s made.

The door groans and yields.

Remus rushes through, Virgil on his heels. Patton and Logan attempt to follow only to run smack into both of them.

“Why’d you stop, kiddos, we can’t—“

“Let us through, why did you—“

When those two fight their way through and into silence, Janus sighs and gingerly steps through, nudging Logan and Virgil aside to look at what’s got them so shocked. Roman in the middle of a sobbing mess of tissues, probably, or an empty room signifying he’s gone off on some quest in the Imagination, or even a pouting Roman glaring at them for ruining his door.

He gets around Virgil’s shoulder and his blood runs cold. Burning cold.

If they weren’t in Roman’s room, he’s not sure he’d be able to recognize this as Roman.

His pristine white costume is stained an ugly brown. The gold trimmings fall limply off, hating on by barely a thread. His hair sticks to the floor in horrid, matted clumps. His hands are speckled and stained with more blood, some congealed and crusted from the puddle on the floor. His legs bend at awkward and uncomfortable angles. One of his arms is stretched away from, reaching for something.

Or anything.

They dare not move. They dare hardly breathe.

Remus takes a step forward. Then another. Then another. He circles the body on the floor, not caring about stepping in the blood, crouching down on the far side. His face is drawn, paler than Janus has ever seen it go, he looks sick.

If…if Remus looks this bad—

Remus looks up at the others. His face darkens.

“Explain,” he whispers, his voice low and soft and dangerous, “now.”

No one can find words to even try.

When no one says anything, Remus crouches down and, with a tenderness that shocks Janus, lays his hand on Roman’s side.

“Roman,” he whispers, almost inaudibly, “Roman, can you hear me?”

“...Re?”

“Yeah, Ro-Bro, it’s—it’s me.”

“Wha’re you…here?”

“I wasn’t paying attention,” Remus growls, looking up at them again, “maybe no one was.”

“’S fine.”

“Roman, it is about the furthest from fine that it could be.”

“…’ve had worse.”

“…okay I was wrong. That is the furthest from fine it could be.”

Judging by the way Roman’s body slumps, his eyes must fall closed again. “You c’n go. D’n’t have to stay.”

“Not on your life.”

“’S fine, Re,” Roman slurs, “the others will…wonder where you are.”

Remus stiffens. His hand tenses on Roman’s side.

“No,” he says softly, “they won’t.”

Roman twitches, his head rolling up. “‘M sorry, Re.”

“What the absolute fuck are you apologizing to me for?”

“Thought they’d…care.” Roman’s head waivers and drop back down. “‘Bout you.”

Patton can’t stifle his whimper.

Roman twitches again. “Wha…”

“They’re not gonna wonder where I am,” Remus growls, “because they’re here.”

Roman’s going to panic. He’s going to freak out and they’ll have to reassure him. Or Roman’s going to be angry and they’ll have to stop him from hurting himself. Or he won’t believe Remus and that…that might be the worst.

…Janus should really stop thinking that.

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why’re they here, Re,” Roman mumbles, his body sagging to the floor again, “‘m I late for s’mething?”

Remus snarls and Roman flinches.

“Don’ be mad, Re, please, ‘m sorry—“

“I’m not mad at you, Roman.”

“But you’re mad.”

“No.” Remus stares at them, his voice still even and soft. “I’m enraged.”

Before they can say anything, Roman hisses and jerks. Remus’s hands instantly flit to Roman, searching for whatever’s hurt him.

“What’s happening, Ro,” he growls, “whose ass do I need to kick?”

“You can’t,” Roman wheezes, “can’ stop it.”

“The hell I can.”

“No, you—you actually can’t,” Roman says, reaching for Remus’s hand, “help—help me sit up?”

“Ro, you’re—I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“’S fine.”

“I don’t think it is!”

“Please?”

Remus sighs, gingerly wrapping his arms around Roman’s bruised and bloody body. “Come on then.”

Roman’s costume clings to the floor and his back as they sit up, the stain darkening and drying on the belly of his tunic. His head lolls against Remus’s chest, breathing heavily for a moment before he finally looks up.

Oh, his face…

It’s an absolute mess. Blood and salt and other things Janus couldn’t hope to figure out cling to every scrap of skin they can as he squints at them.

“You broke my door.”

“You were in trouble,” Remus replies easily, hoisting Roman to sit properly.

Roman sighs, his breath rattling. “Did I miss a meeting?”

“We…” Logan swallows. “We just came from one.”

“Oh.” Roman closes his eyes. “I’ll…gimme a minute, I’ll—“

“You’re not going anywhere.”

“I gotta do the meeting, Re.”

“The hell you do.”

“You—you don’t have to worry about the meeting, Roman,” Logan says firmly, taking a step closer, “we—what happened to you?”

“What d’you mean?”

“What does he mean?” Virgil explodes. “Roman, what the fuck is wrong with you?”

Roman hisses again. “Don’ have to shout, Virgil.”

“Of fucking course I have to shout! Look at you!”

“I believe that might be more of a reason not to shout,” Logan says quietly. Virgil huffs, balling his hands up into fists.

“What the fuck happened, Roman,” Virgil repeats, “and don’t pretend like you don’t know what we’re talking about.”

Roman sighs again, something whistling, what happened to him?—and sits up away from Remus. “I can’ shout, come closer.”

Logan and Virgil immediately walk forward, crouching down a respectful distance away. Patton takes a moment longer, creeping forward and reaching out a trembling hand toward Roman.

“K-kiddo,” he mumbles, “I’m so—so sorry, I didn’t know—“

“’S okay,” Roman slurs, leaning back against Remus, “’s okay, Pat.”

“Patton?” Logan turns. “What do you know?”

“Yeah, Patton,” Remus growls, “why don’t you tell us.”

Patton shrinks back. “I—I—“

“Shh,” Roman mumbles, clumsily patting Remus’s hand, “don’ do that, ’s okay.”

“No, Roman, it’s not.”

“...kiddo?”

Roman nods.

Patton takes a deep breath. “You guys know that—how Roman gets hurt sometimes when Thomas does something that, uh, doesn’t turn out great?”

“We all get hurt, Pat,” Virgil says, “that doesn’t explain this.”

As if on cue, Roman hisses again.

“No, no, Virgil,” Patton mumbles, “it’s—Roman’s the only one who gets physically hurt when this stuff happens.”

Logan’s eyes widen as he looks at Roman’s injuries. “Of course…”

Despite everything, Roman smiles tiredly up at him. “Figure it out?”

“You’re the Ego,” Logan mumbles, “and thus it follows that you would get…bruised.”

“Wait, that’s a literal thing?”

“Apparently so.”

“Jeez, Princey,” Virgil mumbles, “you coulda told me.”

“You were busy, didn’t wanna give you anything else to worry ‘bout.”

“That’s not—Roman—“

“But Thomas has been inside,” Logan interjects quickly, “alone, he hasn’t—we haven’t done anything since the pandemic began.”

“It’s a pandemic, Lo,” Roman says, “no one’s doing much of anything…besides staying inside, reading things, watching things…”

“So how is this happening to you, Roman,” Patton says, wringing his hands, “what—what’s doing this to Thomas?”

“Fuck,” Virgil says, burying his hands in his hair, “Princey has this been happening to you since the wedding?”

“Mm,” Roman hums, leaning heavily against Remus.

“People are watching the video,” Logan whispers, “and they’re—well, they’re talking about it.”

“Are they—are they still saying Thomas should’ve…” Paton gulps. “Done something different?”

Logan shakes his head. “I’m sure they are but Thomas…Thomas hasn’t been looking at the comments from the video, not really. Virgil and I have specifically told him not to.”

“So then why is Thomas still being hurt by it? Why are people still attacking Thomas?”

“Not—“ their heads all jerk around to look at Roman— “not Thomas.”

He waves a hand at himself.

“Wouldn’t be like this if it were them attacking Thomas.”

“Then what—“

“They’re attacking you?” Virgil’s eyes go wide as they scan over Roman’s injuries. “Directly?”

“Mm.”

“Oh, kiddo—“

“Princey, what the hell—“

“Why didn’t you tell us? We could’ve—“

“What for?”

In response, Roman’s eyes raise slowly, and look at Janus.

Everyone else follows, looking back toward the door, realizing that Janus hadn’t moved closer with the rest of them.

Roman’s gaze isn’t cold, but it makes him feel cold.

Oh.

Oh.

Oh, no.

“My name,” Janus breathes, “it’s…they’re mad at you because of me.”

“Told you,” Roman slurs as his eyes close again, “gotta come closer. Can’ shout like this.”

Janus swallows heavily, his throat dry, clutching his cloak tightly around him as he edges closer. Roman mumbles to himself until Janus is close enough to hear him.

“There we go…” He cracks a bloodied eye open. “You’re right. They’re angry at me. Rightfully so, but…yeah.”

“Because you made fun of my name?”

They all rush forward as Roman keens, his hand flying to his gut and hissing.

“Fuck, Princey, is it—is it still happening?”

“Mhm.”

“How do we—how do we stop it?”

“Can’t,” Roman mumbles, “wasn’t lying. Nothing you can do. Not until it’s over.”

“It’s been ages since the wedding, Roman, how much longer is this going to go on?”

Roman makes a vague noise of ‘I don’t know.’

“But—but—“ Logan looks frantically back and forth between them— “surely they can’t all be angry at you, that would be—“

“They’re not,” Roman mumbles, “not all of them, but it’s—it’s most of them.”

“How is that possible?”

“Some of them really don’t like me—“ Roman hisses again— “some of them really like J-Janus or Remus or…or Logan, or Patton—“

“What?”

“What does that have to do with—“

“And some of them just think that it’s—what I did was—“ Roman stifles a whimper, biting his lip— “really bad.”

“But then why…why aren’t the rest of us being affected like this?”

“You’re not the Ego.”

Remus snarls again as Roman jerks, a new bruise blooming on the underside of his neck.

“…ow.”

“We have to get you cleaned up,” Logan mutters shakily, trying to stand.

“Not much point right now,” Roman sighs, absentmindedly nuzzling into Remus, who tightens his grip protectively around Roman, “‘m just gonna get all messy again.”

“Not if we stay with you,” Logan promises, “not if we help.”

“…don’ have to.”

“What the hell are you—“ Virgil shakes his head. “Of course, we’re gonna help you, Roman.”

Roman just looks at them and closes his eyes.

“Ro—kiddo,” Patton says, reaching out for him, “why don’t you believe us?”

“You haven’t exactly…done that before.”

“We didn’t know!”

“You did.”

Patton’s retort dies in his throat. He looks desperately around for something, anything—

Janus is in shock.

Roman…oh, Roman…Janus knew Roman was the Ego, but he didn’t—he hadn’t—

Fuck, were the bruises from what he said still there? Not—not just that awful, awful thing about comparing Roman to Remus, but…from before?

How many times had Janus hurt Roman…and hadn’t cared?

“…I’m sorry, Roman,” Logan murmurs, breaking the silence, “will you let me help now?”

Roman looks up at him. “I’ve been awful to you,” he mumbles, “you don’—don’ have to apologize.”

“Yes, I do,” Logan says, “because you’ve been wonderful to me too…and I am not blameless in this either.”

“But they don’t know that.”

“I do,” Logan says firmly, “and they will.”

The smallest smile tugs at the corners of Roman’s mouth as Logan stands up to go fetch the first aid kit.

“Princey, I—Roman,” Virgil stammers, “fuck, you—oh my god—“

“I’ve been awful to you too, Virgil.”

“And I’ve been fucking worse right back!” Virgil squeezes his hands tight. “And I—you’re the only one who gets yelled at for it. Fuck, I’m—I’m so fucking sorry, I’m gonna—can I help too?”

“…if you want.”

“I’m gonna go help Logan get the shit,” Virgil mutters, getting to his feet and tearing out after Logan.

“…oh, kiddo…”

Patton’s eyes begin to tear up.

“I thought—I thought you needed more time—“

“Don’t beat yourself up over it, Pat,” Roman manages, “it’s not fun, trust me.”

Patton’s laugh comes out more like a sob.

“I won’t hold it against you, and you can—“ Roman hisses again— “help if you want.”

“Do you think you can drink something?”

“…I’ll try.”

Patton’s gone in a flash.

Janus looks at Remus. Remus glares at him and pulls Roman closer.

“…we should…try and get some of that off,” Janus tries, “so we can see what, um…”

Remus’s stony silence as Roman starts to drift again cuts off Janus’s words.

“…Remus…”

“You are very, very lucky,” Remus whispers, cutting him off, “that I’m not about to leave my brother’s side for a long time.”

Janus nods.

“Start on the buttons,” Remus says, “at his wrists. I’m not sure how much of this we can save.”

He immediately sets to work, trying to communicate how sorry, sorry, sorry he is with every gentle brush of his fingers against Roman’s skin. Remus summons something for them to lean Roman against as they start to gingerly remove the tunic. It’s worse than Janus thought.

Roman is one big pulsing wound, little nicks here and there and varying shades of purple, red, green, yellow, all coming from one massive sore in the center of him. As they watch, more injuries appear, little bruises that make his breath hitch, and occasionally a small swipe along his ribs. As Janus works the cuff over his wrist, one of his fingers blackens and swells as it breaks.

“Oh, Roman…”

“Sit up, Ro,” Remus whispers tenderly, peeling and unsticking the tunic from his back, “okay, there we go. Are most of them…up here?”

“They all look to be coming from…that,” Janus says, indicating the giant wound, “so…”

And indeed, as they watch, Roman keens again and the wound deepens, more blood beginning to trickle out.

“Are all of these—“ Janus indicates the injuries littering Roman’s body— “comments?”

“Mm.”

“Then what—why is this one…?”

Roman’s eyes drift closed and his head lolls back.

“’Oh, Roman, thank god you don't have a mustache.”

No.

No.

“’Otherwise, between you and Remus—‘” Roman winces as the wound digs deeper— “‘I wouldn't know who the evil twin is.’”

…no…

Janus reaches out a trembling hand and lays it next to the wound. It’s…it’s warm under his touch but…wrong.

A snarl jerks his hand back and he looks up to see Remus glaring at him.

“Remus—“

“Save it.” Remus glances toward the door. “The others will be back in a moment anyway.”

Sure enough, Logan and Virgil bust through the broken door, their hands full. Logan immediately sweeps his gaze over Roman and kneels down, reaching out.

“May I touch you, Roman?”

“Mm.”

“Thank you.” Logan slots a hand gently behind Roman’s hand. “We’re going to try and get the blood off of you first, alright?”

“Mm.”

“This might sting,” Logan cautions, starting to rub an antiseptic towel down Roman’s arm, “my apologies.”

Virgil takes another one and carefully cleans Roman’s other arm, mindful of his broken finger. As they work, Patton reappears, holding a bottle of water and a glass of juice.

“Come on, kiddo,” he says softly, taking Logan’s place behind Roman’s head, “drink this for me?”

Roman manages a few sips of each.

“Good job, kiddo, there you go…” Patton glances down. “Does it seem to be stopping at all?”

As if it can hear him, the wound starts to bleed again.

“Oh, Roman…”

Logan glances between the wound and Janus, his brow furrowed.

Please, Logan, for once…don’t be so smart.

The way Logan’s eyes widen and narrow say that it’s too late.

“This one seems to be the origin,” Logan says instead, turning away, “all the others seem to stem from it.”

“Okay,” Virgil mutters, “so what’s that one?”

Janus’s mouth runs dry as Logan turns to him expectantly.

“Well,” Remus growls, “go on.”

“I don’t—what if it just makes it worse?”

“That didn’t stop you before.”

“I didn’t—“

“Oh, shut up,” Remus cuts him off, “you knew. You knew.”

“Remus—“

“You wanna know how I know that?” Remus draws away from Roman just enough to clench his fists. “Because I found you after the wedding. You were all curled up on the floor and you were so upset.”

Roman stirs. “…Re…”

“And I asked you why, and you said it was because Roman made fun of your name,” Remus continues, “and I thought: ‘huh, that feels a little weird. Where have I heard that before?’”

Patton shrinks out of Remus’s line of sight.

“Then I remembered! The courtroom,” Remus continues, a manic smile on his face, “and your little plan to make sure Roman felt like he had no idea what was going on.”

“…J, what is he talking about?”

“Oh, he’s not going to tell you,” Remus says, “but I will.”

“Remus—“

“You said that you knew Roman,” Remus says, talking right over him, “and you knew that if you pushed him in the right direction, you’d be able to get him to listen to you easily.”

Even Logan pauses.

“Do you remember what you said, Janny?” Remus’s eyes bore into Janus’s mind. “Do you?”

“…Remus, please.”

Remus’s grin drops.

“You said,” he whispers, “that if you just fucked with his name, he’d be in the palm of your hand.”

And he was.

"Conveniently, everyone seems to have forgotten that. Forgotten what you did. Or they don't care."

Remus tightens his grip on Roman. 

"But not me."

Guilt presses hot and thick against Janus’s throat. Unbidden, huge, fat tears start to form in his eyes as he stares at the wound on Roman’s gasping chest. Distantly, he thinks he can hear the others muttering but all he can think about is how much of this is a lie.

Roman isn’t the evil twin.

Roman isn’t Remus.

Roman isn’t stupid.

Roman isn’t worthless.

Roman isn’t a toy or a puppet or a tool.

Roman isn’t selfish or greedy or arrogant.

Roman is hurt and scared and Janus is so, so sorry.

He lets out a growl of his own and presses his hand hard to the wound.

Lie. Lie.

This is a lie.

Truth is hard and unyielding and painful but nothing is more painful than knowing that all of this is built on a lie.

Janus grits his teeth and concentrates, his hands trembling as he presses it against the wound, searching, searching for—

There.

He closes his fist around the lie and yanks, pulling the words and the hurt and the ache out of Roman’s chest in a bright flash.

When it’s gone, Roman’s chest is heaving, bruises still littering his torso, but the big wound is nowhere to be seen.

Panting, Janus clenches his fist until the lie shatters into pieces, the shard disappearing into harmless puffs of air.

He looks back.

Logan and Patton are staring at him open-mouthed. Virgil has his hands bunched up in his hoodie. Remus just stares at him, his face unreadable.

And Roman…

Roman looks up at him, panting too, but it doesn’t feel quite so wrong anymore.

“I can’t promise that this one won’t hurt you ever anymore,” he vows, “but I can promise that it will never have that much power again.”

Roman reaches out a hand. Janus lets him pull him closer.

“For what it’s worth,” he says, “I’m sorry.”

Janus huffs. “I can also promise that you’re not nearly as sorry as I am.”

They let their eyes fall closed as Janus’s hands steady Roman, landing lightly on his sides and just resting there. Roman tips forward and his forehead lands against Janus’s.

For a second, the room just breathes.

“Can we clean you up,” Janus whispers, “the rest of the way?”

“L-Logan?”

“I’m right here, Roman,” Logan says instantly, “what do you need?”

“Can I—wanna sleep.”

“I don’t think you’ve got a concussion, so that should be alright…” Logan glances at Patton. “Let’s have you drink a little more and then you can rest, hmm?”

“Okay.”

“Come on, kiddo,” Patton coaxes, “here we go…”

As Virgil and Logan set about cleaning again, Janus runs his hands slowly over every injury he can, plucking out what little lies there are and sending them away. He can tell by the weight of Remus’s stare on him that he’s not in the clear yet, but the way Roman starts to sag slowly makes it easier.

“Alright,” Logan murmurs after a while, “I think that’s all we can do.”

“…sleep?”

“Yes, Roman, you can sleep now. Would you like us to help you to your bed?”

Roman blinks, his hand reaching out for— “Re?”

“I gotcha, Ro-Bro.”

“Re…” Roman mumbles sleepily as he all but collapses into Remus.

“…yeah I’m okay with that.”

Logan jerks his head towards Roman’s mattress. Together, they drag it down to the floor and help Remus get Roman onto it. Logan murmurs that he’s going to go put the first aid kit away, but that he’ll be right back. Patton gathers up the glasses and leaves with the same promise.

Virgil glances back and forth between Remus and Janus.

“…you guys remember that this is about what Roman needs, right?”

“Yes.”

“Yeah.”

“Okay good.”

Virgil reaches out to brush a little of Roman’s hair out of his face.

“Well, I’m not going anywhere.”

“Neither am I.”

Logan and Patton reappear at the door and slot themselves in around the mattress. Remus looks at Janus.

Janus deliberately sits between Roman and the door, something he’s seen Remus do too many times.

Remus nods.

This conversation is far from over, but right now…

Right now, Roman mumbles sleepily and grabs onto Remus’s sleeve.

There is truly so much that they never see, isn’t there? Logan wasn’t wrong, the amount of Roman that’s never been on camera is truly staggering.

Janus has let that lie of omission cause too much damage for too long.

Right now, he’s got work to do.

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[bastillia]

Innocuous (NSFW)

Read on Ao3

Summary: You’re a medical officer aboard the Steadfast, and you’ve found yourself caring for a gravely injured Kylo Ren. He seems to require some unconventional treatment.

Rating: Extremely Explicit

Words: 7.5k

Content warnings: Somewhat graphic depictions of injury, wound/bloodplay, burnplay, oral bloodplay, oral sex (f recieving), orgasm denial/delay, choking, inappropriate use of the Force (and of a medical device oops), rough sex, extremely minimal aftercare, Kylo Ren is a nasty fucking boy, LISTEN this gets a lil dark ok, so just please consider before clicking ok tysm

A/N: I scrapped and restarted this whole thing at least twice, but we finally got there my friends. Is this over the top? Maybe. Do I have a single regret? No. Please heed the content warnings, you may have a bad day if you don’t. This is pure unadulterated filth. Enjoy!

Strips of fluorescent light ribbed the vacant hall, white beams streaking reflections across the glossy black floor like a frozen lane of hyperspace as the urgent click of your boots perturbed the calm. The corridors of the Steadfast were all but barren this time of cycle, only disturbed by the occasional patrol of noc shift troopers trudging mechanically in unison. Devoid of the usual bustle of footsteps and orders, the static hum from the ship’s walls washed the air with a bassy din of ambient noise that might be calming, were your heartbeat not adding an anxious percussion to the silence.

You really had no reason to be awake, you should have taken your sleeping aid hours ago, but the endless scroll of patient files on your datapad had kept you up just long enough to see the alarm flash. Hardly a momentary blip, but the peculiarity of it was what propelled you from your quarters and heated your step with urgency now. Medical Bay: Intake - Officer’s Ward, it had flashed, and then disappeared just as quickly.

Tapping the access pad that led to the sequestered corridor, you waited for the door to slide open and slipped through. Needles crawled up your spine as your gaze shifted around the familiar yet eerily still hallway, which was making you nervous now for absolutely no reason. Each private room should be empty, you knew you hadn’t checked any officers in for overnight care, and you could recite your inpatient registry as if it were etched into the backs of your eyelids. Droids didn’t typically throw faulty alarms -- maybe your eyes had simply deceived you after a long and fucking exhausting day of post-mission damage control in the med bay. Echoes of that exhaustion now placed a terror within each shadowed room that you passed, something that your brain was convinced would surely jump out at you.

You stopped dead as you reached the final door, half-hoping this one was your imagination. He was still. Too still. Limbs sprawling over the edges of the cot, with haphazard bandages crossing his bare torso aimlessly. They were visibly soaked through with blood, contrasting the blanched sheen of sweat-drenched skin, a black mop of hair askew over the pillow.

A violent spike of dread lanced down your spine. You darted into the room, your medical instincts hot-starting and roaring in your eardrums as you alighted upon him with gentle precision. Two fingers flashed to the pulse point at his neck, depressing the slick, hot skin there as your frantic eyes fell to the broad rise of his chest. Pulse. Breathing. Both too shallow and fast, but present, thank the stars.

You released the held breath that was starting to burn your lungs. The alarm. What had sent it? You glanced around. Monitor wires lay scattered over the floor around the metal feet of the bed, not a single one connected. A fizzling noise behind you nearly snapped your neck as you whipped around. A nurse droid lay lifeless, crumpled and sparking against the far wall.

Oh.

You turned slowly back to the unconscious Supreme Leader, fear trickling coldly down your veins in a moment of consideration. He’d wanted to be alone.

Your mind suddenly supplied you with an image of yourself in place of the droid, bones crunched like scrap metal against the wall, eyes glazed, life flickering and dying in the fried wires of your veins. How easy it would be -- effortless, even -- For him to crush the life out of you with little more than a flick of his wrist. How… maybe that knowledge made you tingle, just a little.

You derailed that train of thought with a sharp shake of your head as your eyes flicked across his battered torso and up the column of his neck, settling on the tranquility of his face. Bruised and bloody as it was, he looked… peaceful. Freckles and moles dusting his skin like starry kisses to soothe the ache of battle. His features, always chiseled from the sternest isoform of marble, now softened in sleep. Suspended in a paradoxical state of youthful serenity even as his body worked in overdrive just to tether him to life. He was… just a man. And he was absolutely beautiful.

Maybe you stared at him, just a little longer than you should, before committing to your courage and snatching an antiseptic cloth. If one of you was going to die, at least you were the more replaceable option. And this was what you’d signed up for, wasn’t it? To serve the First Order, even perhaps at the expense of your life. For… the greater good, or something. Yeah. Higher purpose and all that. You were a good medic, and good medics were selfless. It definitely wasn’t because you, perhaps, didn’t mind entertaining the thought of those large hands around your neck, squeezing...

Fucking focus.

Expertly, delicately, you began to peel back the blood-soaked evidence of his attempt to self-bandage, baring the flesh of his torso. Stars, he was magnificent. Glistening skin lay taut over lean muscle, a finely-tuned war machine sculpted by years of hard training, evident even in the depths of sleep. The subtle ripple of his muscles expanding and contracting with each breath spread that insistent tingle through your lower belly as you meticulously swiped the blood and sweat from his body.

Your hands danced to the pace of your heartbeat. Quick and steady, as you tossed the cloth and fitted a needle onto a syringe tip. A light pinch of his skin here, so that he wouldn't feel the prick of the shot there. Pure habit, not that a small needle stick would hold a candle to his injuries in terms of pain. But you didn’t really want him waking up just yet. You pushed the plunger down to administer a microdose of bacta. Just enough to hotwire the healing process, without dulling sensation.

You'd mused privately to yourself on more than one occasion, that you thought he liked to feel the pain. Whether it was a show of control, or an exercise in self-punishment, you couldn’t say. But you'd learned early on, working here, never to bring a pain suppressant around the former Commander.

Maybe no one else had ever picked up on that, because it seemed you were the only person he ever allowed near him with a bandage. You didn't mind. Nor did you mind the way his eyes always followed you quietly as you worked, as you'd gently cleanse his wounds from the battles and conquests that he fearlessly led as the new Supreme Leader of the First Order. You certainly liked him better than the last one. You thought maybe Ren even liked the way your fingers would subtly worship his figure with every quiet and efficient pass of gauze. Maybe he knew where those fingers ended up later. Sick bastard. A smirk tugged the corner of your lip.

His arm was hanging over the edge of the cot, a cautery pen still held loosely in his bloodied fingers. You sighed, removing the device, and picked his arm up to lay it neatly by his side. The weight of it caught your breath in your chest, the solid and heavy cord of muscle dwarfing your hands.

You quickly shook away the distraction, seating yourself on the bedside stool and turning to your most immediate concern: The deep, ripped laceration that bled from his lower abdomen. Vibroblade, you’d wager. It was oozing around the half-cauterized flesh, ugly and red from where he'd clearly begun to try and solder himself shut. You gently placed the cauterizer on the bedside stand. A crude tactic, and not one you would settle for, you decided as you retrieved a sterile suture pouch instead. Preparing another antiseptic cloth and gauze for the blood, you hovered back over the wound.

A realization started to echo along the tunnel of your focus, and the walls crashed away with a thump of your heart as you stared at Ren's flank beneath you, where his breathing had notably deepened and steadied. Your hands froze as your eyes shifted up the planes of his torso, cold spines gouging your chest as you reached his face. His eyes were open, fixed calmly upon your own stare, a flush restored to his full, pouted lips. Ice shattered in your veins.

"S-supreme Leader, I-” You dropped your materials onto the mattress, “You- you want to b-be alone, I'll j-just-" you were stammering, pushing your seat back, brain vibrating with panic. This was it. You escaped now, or you were joining the droid.

You made it about halfway to standing when a hand cinched on your wrist, arresting your movement. Your breath halted as you snapped back around, your heartbeat slamming in your throat.

Something boiled up behind his irises then, trapped so fiercely under the tempered surface of his eyes that his jaw locked tight and his chin quivered slightly with the strain of it. Your brain began to scramble. The look held an unmistakable need, a plea that said, so deafening in its silence, Stay.

You carefully held his gaze as you began to sink back down onto the small seat beside the bed. Your hand was trembling under his grip, every drop of air evaporating in your lungs as his pleading eyes burned through you. You slowly let yourself sit until your weight rested fully on the stool again.

Ren’s body slackened, releasing the air back into the room, and his head dropped back onto the thin pillow in a flutter of raven locks. His eyes drifted shut as a breath rolled through his nose and deep into his chest.

His grip had eased around your wrist, enough for your brain to now register the pleasant warmth of his enormous hand as it softly enveloped the lower part of your forearm. The sensation dumbfounded you for a moment as you stared between your arm and your Supreme Leader's face. The muscles in his brow twitched over his closed eyes as several more controlled breaths seemed to forcibly banish something from his body.

You came back to yourself as a trickle of dark blood drew your gaze back down to his abdomen, where it painted a river over bruised flesh before falling down his side to soak crimson sunbursts into the white sheet. You cautiously twisted your wrist free, and he let his hand drop softly back to the sheet without resistance. Hesitantly, you ran a hand across his skin, next to the gaping wound, inspecting the separated flesh. Firm muscles bunched under your touch, tugging at the ragged edges and inspiring another pulse of fresh red. You studied his face as his lashes lifted open again to meet your eyes. It took you a moment to find your breath.

"I... need to close this," you breathed, tracing a featherlight and completely instinctive touch of reassurance over his intact skin near the wound. He chewed the inside of his lip.

"Do it."

Your belly fluttered at the low command, his eyes never wavering from your gaze. You swallowed. Standing slowly to bend over his abdomen, you studied the open section of the wound. The edges were relatively clean, and it didn't look like the blade had made it deep enough to hit anything vital. The bleeding was nasty though, despite your meticulous cleaning job. His skin here would naturally be taut over firm abdominal muscles, a high tension area, you noted. You’d need to place dermal sutures if you wanted them to hold. Your brow knitted in preemptive sympathy.

“This is going to hurt.” You muttered.

Well, perhaps that was obvious. But stitching up conscious patients was not exactly your area of expertise, so maybe in a way, you were preparing yourself more than him. You were surprised at how well you managed to withhold the tremor from your hands as you quickly cleaned the wound again. It steeled your resolve slightly.

You tossed the soaked gauze, and plucked a curved needle and sinewy thread from the sterile bag. You readied your hand over the cleansed wound and flashed your gaze up to Kylo Ren’s eyes, waiting for... well, you didn’t know. Any kind of final approval or declination, maybe. He said nothing, but his eyes burned you steadily as his jaw locked in place, making the tightness in your chest flutter and twist. Swallowing, you turned back to the half-closed gash. You quickly threaded the first set-back stitch with nimble precision, and tugged the edges closed.

Ren’s muscles locked up with a full-body grunt, and a broad hand shot up from where it lay on the bed to grip the inside curve of your thigh. A jolt leapt through your body, setting your heart at a wild pace. Surely that was just a reflex. Surely he would let go. Blinking, you tried to find the voice in your chest.

"You… you have to r-relax." It came out more breathless than you intended as you fumbled only slightly with tying and cutting the thread. You paused to steady yourself, ignoring how warm your skin felt under his hand. A deep breath rolled through the Supreme Leader, and to your utmost shock, his core slackened obediently.

His hand did not leave your thigh. You took a breath and forced yourself to continue, fingers curling to pierce and thread the next suture through the tender, deep layer of skin. A lower, longer vibration left Ren’s nose as his large fingers gripped tighter into the soft pillow of your flesh. Your breath came shallow as your brain ignited, trying not to file that noise away under the category of pleasure. No. Stop that. You refused to indulge the thought, or the warmth that it shot through your lower body, as you refocused on your work.

You fixed your eyes firmly on your target, not letting yourself meet his gaze again. The next few sutures were accompanied by sounds from Ren that you diligently ignored. If you acknowledged what they sounded like, your focus would be obliterated. It already half was. But the growing hum at the apex of your thighs could not be indulged, could not break your concentration, even if it was just above where his hand… Oh.

Oh.

His thumb traced the slowest line along the crease of your groin.

It was impossible not to notice the stiffness that was beginning to tent his pants, close to where your face hovered over his lower abdomen. A shiver caressed your spine at the sight, as all of the heat in your body began to gravitate to the heartbeat in your cunt. You swallowed thickly. Stars help you, the sight of him. Supreme Leader Kylo fucking Ren, laying underneath you, his cock getting hard as you caused him excruciating pain. And you… you fucking... liked it.

His hand shifted then, sliding upwards to press a single, precise stroke along the concealed line of your heat. “Oh-” The soft moan came unwillingly from the bottom of your chest, and you braced one hand out on the mattress as your knees turned to liquid. Your body responded so automatically that it made your head spin, your thighs shifting wider, inviting his touch. You could have passed out when he curled his hand to pet another slow stripe over your clothed slit. 

Panting now, you lifted a pleading stare to meet his eyes. They were hooded black vats of desire, and your heart dropped right through your cervix as they drank you in. Your face tingled hot. Your brain wobbled along the line between finishing your task, and the primal need that was erupting through your belly. Either way, you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him to stop.

“Supreme Le-”

"Off." He interrupted lowly, pinching at the fabric of your pants. You weren't sure why you obeyed so fucking immediately, but before you could think, your thumbs were hooking into your waistband, and then you were stepping out of your boots, trousers, and underwear, kicking them carelessly across the floor. The tails of your white coat tickled your exposed skin as you positioned yourself back over his wound, wet cunt bared and leaking down your thighs. Cheeks burning with a heat that reached all the way down to your chest, you pointedly avoided his eyes. You tried to steady your hands, and you swore you could feel his gaze stoking a wildfire at your core. You swallowed, staring detachedly at your fingers.

No, the medic instinct in you wouldn’t allow you to leave your work half finished. If you had the wherewithal to think about it, you might have concluded that he knew this, but that didn’t mean he would hold back in making it as difficult as possible for you now that you were, well, in this state. Taking a breath, you threaded another stitch. This time he shamelessly groaned, and his fingers slipped easily through the silky heat of your slit. You gasped, almost doubling over again as you tied off the suture.

You finally looked at him. His nostrils were flared and his throat bobbed, as he watched his own long fingers collect the wetness that leaked from your core. Pleasure and shame waged war across your skin, and your knees went weak as he met your eyes again.

“Keep going,” he stated calmly, gesturing with only his eyes towards the wound that was now nearly shut.

“Fuck,” you whispered, eliciting a hiss of breath from the Supreme Leader as his fingers passed in a slow arc around the top of your stiff clit.

How you managed it, you had no idea, but in very little time you were looping the last thread over itself, tightening it, and cutting. You blinked, looking back along the neat line of sutures as Ren continued idly stroking at your slit, sending shocks down to your toes.

“D-done.” You stammered as you shuffled your supplies together and started to step back.

With a flash of rippling muscle, Ren sat up and captured the back of your neck, pulling you in just inches from the strong curve of his nose. Your materials clattered to the floor as your legs nearly buckled from the sudden weight of his proximity, his gaze pitching you in an inky black tide of lust.

“Gentle little thing,” he pondered, running a thumb under your jaw. Your lungs simply didn’t function any more, you decided, as heat chased the air from the bottom of your bronchioles and out into the space between you. “I’ve wondered about you.”

Your voice hiccuped dumbly in your chest. “Ab-bout me, S-supreme Lead- oh.” Your question hung unfinished from your slack jaw as the pad of his finger shifted wetly across your clit, shooting a liquid flame up your spine that burst in your brain.

“Mm,” he supplied in acknowledgement, his lust-blackened gaze all but swallowing you whole. “Such a pretty thing...” Heat flowered in your cheeks again. “So unassuming.” He slid two fingers down your slick folds towards your entrance, and the delicate stem of a whimper crawled from your throat.

“You want to let go.” He stated in a deep, near-whisper. “Don’t lie to yourself, officer, I can feel your need for it.” You shuddered. Absolutely you wanted to let go. You wanted to do a lot of things, but mostly anything that would elicit those sounds that he was making before, while you punctured his dermis with a curved fucking needle.

“Yes, Supreme Leader.” Your voice seemed far away in your own ears.

The hand around the back of your neck curled slowly until it tightened into the hair follicles at your nape, and the pinpricks sent a thrilling voltage through your nerves that made you gasp.

"Just as I thought," he hummed, the smallest hint at a smirk twitching on the corner of his mouth. “Your desires are far from innocuous.” The lust that thickened his voice had you clenching.

He held your hair tightly, the pain scraping down your spine and feeding heat into the coiling, writhing need that hummed above your thighs. He began to lean back and pull you with him, until you had to shuffle your knee onto the mattress to keep from falling. His hand abandoned the wet heat between your legs, and a solid arm slid impatiently around your waist instead, pulling your hips firmly over him until you straddled his lap on the generous cot.

The feeling of his clothed, straining cock nestling against your folds chased a whine over your lips, and Ren caught it in its tracks, drinking down the sound as his plush lips claimed your open mouth. Fire exploded through your body and your hands flew to his chest, sliding up over hot, bruised skin until your nails were dragging up his neck and into the inky softness of his hair. A deep growl quaked in his chest and his tongue slid greedily across the roof of your mouth, coaxing your jaw wider for him.

You felt his hands slide to grasp the lapels of your coat and yank them over your shoulders. With a thrill of excitement, you threw your arms back to allow him to shuck the garment roughly from your body. Your shirt followed over your head, forcing you to surface from the depths of the kiss with a vulgar wet sound. The second you were free, his massive hand trapped your wrists behind your back, and you gasped at the sudden feeling of immobility. Kylo Ren pinned you under his dark gaze, pulling your arms to arch your back and press your tits up towards him, his eyes devouring the bareness of you that he displayed for himself.

Then he lunged. His hot mouth latched into your neck and worked down to your chest, his strong grip arching you further until his lips pursed around your pebbled nipple. Your jaw fell open in a gasp as he slid his tongue across the bud and drew it between his teeth, pinching just hard enough to leave it aching, and mirrored the action on your other breast. He hummed as he moved back up to lick wet, open-mouthed kisses along your jaw, sliding along your skin until you felt hot breath flood the sensitive hollow of your ear.

“I wonder how you taste, pretty thing.”

The sound that left you was fucking obscene, his words dissolving every bone in your body. You instinctually ground down on his swollen cock, seeking pressure lest your cunt actually rupture with need.

He began to lay back, his hands releasing your wrists, and your strained muscles flooded with relief. Clutching your thighs, he pulled your hips insistently to follow his face back to the head of the cot. A nervous tremor wracked you as he guided your thighs over his shoulders, the realization crashing over you all at once. You were about to sit on the face of the most dangerous man in the fucking galaxy. He closed his eyes and pressed his nose to your mons, inhaling deeply and releasing a growling moan that vibrated right up your body.

A deep magenta bruise flowered his temple and cheekbone, decorating the seam where the flesh of your thigh now ended and his face began. Your core clenched in anxious anticipation, and he turned his face to sink his teeth into the tender flesh of your thigh. Remnants of fear were still paralyzing your chest, but the bolt of pain that flashed up your body pierced through it and into your brain for a moment of blissful clarity. You moaned as you suddenly registered just how much pulsing heat was settling inside your walls, aching now to be soothed by his tongue. He ran his hands down your sides and gripped your hips, and he leveled a dark look up at you that liquefied your bones.

"Please…" you began to whisper.

In a flash, he took your hands and pinned them to the small of your back, then thrust his warm, flat tongue against your cunt with a low groan. Your mouth fell open in a silent cry as he licked a wide stroke up the length of your slit, parting your folds and dragging the flat of his tongue across your swollen nub. Tingling pleasure erupted through your lower body, the feeling of him warm and divine and utterly unbelievable. He moved slowly, almost lazily, lost in the taste and scent of you as he began to work that beautiful mouth over every inch of your cunt.

You shifted your hips in desperation, trying to ride his face and gain more friction on the ache that was coiling in your clit, but he locked your arms up roughly, immobilizing you with one of his huge hands around both of your wrists. You whined and he resumed his torturous pace, lapping at you indulgently, rolling his nose across your clit, building a hot pressure in your core that cried painfully for release.

When his lips finally pursed around your bud, his tongue sliding across it in a way that shot light behind your retinas, it was enough to send you reeling. “Oh, fuck-” you groaned as you felt your orgasm start to pull up tight and hot, your body desperately grasping at its relief.  But then it was plateauing, ebbing, as he slowed and slid his silky tongue away from that epicenter of pleasure.

“No, pl-please, please--” you wailed as you felt your impending orgasm slip away down your spine.

Ignoring you, Ren closed his eyes and swallowed with a grunt, sucking down the arousal that had gushed from your entrance, and you felt it travel through his whole body as he went rigid. He shuddered in consummate pleasure then, and your brain suddenly shifted from grieving your denied orgasm to wondering where his other hand might be. You imagined it wrapped around his own cock, and the thought tightened heat around your spine.

You craned a glance over your shoulder, but the sight that met you paralyzed your brain. His cock was free of his trousers, beautifully hard and leaking a bead of precum onto his stomach, untouched. His fingers were instead plunged into the neat line of sutures that studded his low abdomen, fresh crimson welling around his pressure-whitened fingertips as his body trembled. A protest shot instinctively through your chest. 

“Don’t-”

Two huge hands hooked over your thighs, smearing you with red, and yanked your ass back onto the warm, broad expanse of his chest, cutting off your objection with a breathy yelp. You had little time to bemoan the absence of his mouth at your center before your world was spinning, as Ren flipped you underneath him in a shockingly strong, fluid motion that inverted your senses.

You flailed an arm behind you for balance, but before you could get your bearings, he was hauling you effortlessly down the thin mattress by your hips. A squeak escaped you as your shoulders met linen, and then you were wailing as he devoured you again, his eager tongue sliding hot and heavily down your folds. 

He groaned and slipped two blood-drenched fingers into you, pumping and scissoring them slowly as he massaged your clit with his mouth. Shock and pleasure quaked in equal magnitude through your body, every instinct clashing in a spectacular array as your brain fought against itself. You wanted to be horrified, sickened even, but every nerve ending was screaming in nothing but wretched liberation.

In a wash of euphoria, you submitted to it, let your fingers find and lock into his sweat-dampened hair, let yourself sigh and clench around his warm, wet digits as they stroked against something devastating inside of you. He built you up like this again, higher, tighter, but before you could reach the apex of that perfect ache, just when you were whimpering with the promise of shattering into bliss, something began to coil around your spine. An invisible force -- the Force -- squeezing dark numbness down every nerve below your lumbar spine.

No, no, fuck. Tears rushed to your eyes and you choked out a sob, as you trembled in excruciating bereavement. Your wrists were wrenched to your side and tacked to the bed with that same invisible power while Ren continued to indulge himself in your numb cunt, sucking and lapping steadily at your wet heat. Your insides blazed with need and neglect as you watched him slide his fingers out of you and into his mouth, humming in satisfaction as he savored the mixture of his blood and your slick. That was it. You couldn’t keep quiet.

“Kylo, please-”

His eyes locked onto yours, lips still pursed around his fingers. You did not mean to call him that. You quailed suddenly, in your state of helplessness, at the sight of the large man as he began to crawl over you. He kicked off his trousers, looming until you were caged underneath his powerful body and staring helplessly up into the wicked excitement that roiled in his irises.

“Poor, poor thing,” He taunted as an electric current of sensation shot back down your legs, causing you to yelp. His hips rocked to part your slit with the velvety weight of his cock, his swollen and weeping head dragging moisture across your clit as it tingled with renewed feeling.

“So desperate to cum that you’d forget all respect for me.” The words dripped from his lips to pour over your neck as he nipped above your clavicle, seeping into your blood and heating it tenfold. He felt heavy and inviting and perfect, and you clutched your nails sharply into his sides as a crippling wave of need crashed down your spine. He hissed in a breath, letting it out in a nearly inaudible “Fuck.”

A tear spilled down your cheekbone. He was right, you were absolutely fucking desperate, coiled painfully tight after being ripped back from the edge twice. This was his particular brand of mutual torture, denying your release and losing himself in his pain. You needed to do something, anything, to fracture that infuriating, adamantine control. Anything to break the endless cycle of torment.

Your eyes were drawn down to a river of crimson that streaked into the valley of his hip, welling from the fresh spring of your sutures. A writhing, dark desire slithered up your brain stem, burning with some foreign audacity, and it moved your hand almost on its own. Fuck it, you could play this game, too. 

“Please, Supreme Leader,” You corrected yourself, letting your voice thicken through your tears to a noxious sweetness. “I’ll do anything.” 

Your palm slid to his low abdomen, collecting the warm blood with your thumb and sliding it back up towards the neatly closed wound. You slowly ran your slick digit along the raw edge, your breath catching in your chest as you flicked your gaze back to his eyes, just inches in front of yours. His lips hung open slightly, in disbelief, in want, it was impossible to say. But his pupils were blown wide and hungry as he stilled, the smallest twitch of his eye daring you, pleading you, to continue.

“Anything…” you emphasized in a whisper, holding his stare through your damp lashes as you pressed your thumb into the bruised, inflamed skin, crushing your finger straight into the raw nerves. You dug down, down, watching his lips slowly pull into a wild snarl of pain, his thick cock twitching against your folds as a ragged groan tore through his teeth. You were panting now, watching his eyes as they filled with liquid black fire, unblinking, burning through you.

Heart pounding, you pressed further, building a pinpoint of pressure over the closed wound until you felt the fine strand of a suture give way under the pad of your thumb, popping open with a soft shift of flesh. A choked roar ripped itself from Ren’s chest as his hand came down on your throat. His eyes were glazed with a terrifying need, inches from yours, strands of hair beginning to mat on his face as sweat decorated his skin.

His hips began to sink heavily. The head of his cock pushed past your folds, pressing insistently at the tight heat of your entrance. You whimpered, pulse racing under his grip, and braced your hand involuntarily against his abdomen as your walls began to stretch, the wet sting reverberating up your spine. Your eyes shot to his, pleading, but found them fiendish.

"You’re going to take all of me, pretty thing." His voice was barely above a ragged whisper, caged behind rusted bars of restraint that were slowly splintering across his eyes as he broke you open. “And you’re going to cum around my fucking cock when I tell you to.”

It was all you could do to simply whimper and nod, his words paired with the intense stretch effectively wiping your brain blank now. And the stretch kept coming, endlessly, filling you completely, until you thought you might crack in half. When he finally sheathed himself, his body flattened down heavily on top of you, pinning your hips wide open. You couldn’t move your hand, his sheer mass was crushing your thumb inside the wet, raised flesh of the wound as you felt it leak warmly around the base. A sound caught in Ren’s throat, and a shudder wracked his whole body.

He laid there for only a moment, crushing the air from your lungs, bathing in the pain, before he lifted his torso and began to thrust. Still slowly, still so controlled, breath rolling hot and rabid down your neck. You pulled your thumb from beneath his skin with a sickening squelch. Trembling, a morbid urge had you bringing the hand up to your mouth.

You moved to flick your tongue out over the warm, coppery liquid that was now coating your thumb and beginning to run down your forearm. In an instant, Ren snatched your wrist and pinned it beside your head. Something utterly feral played across his eyes that made your stomach squirm.

He panted through his teeth, eyes drifting across your face to the hand that he had pinned down. “You want a taste, whore?” His tone was somewhere between incredulous and eager, only fueling your desire to pry further at the seams of his restraint. You bit your bottom lip, lifting a pleading look into his eyes, and nodded with a whimper.

“Yes, please, ple-- Ah!” He slammed his cock into your cervix, making you cry out.

He snatched your wrist up with a grunt and enveloped your thumb with the heat of his mouth, swirling his strong, silky tongue around your knuckle to collect the liquid. Your head spun as he drew his lips up and off of your digit, slamming your wrist back down to the mattress and crushing his mouth to yours. His tongue pushed ravenously past the guard of your teeth, and your palette lit up with the sharp mix of metallic blood and the remnants of your cunt on his lips.

It was deafening, the rush that cascaded between your ears and crashed down your body at the visceral taste, the sensation of his hot tongue swiping across yours, passing the grotesque mixture back and forth. You moaned into his mouth and he shuddered, gripping your jaw muscles to force your mouth open as he drew away, resuming the rhythm of his thrusts. He spat a thick emulsion of blood and saliva into your open mouth before releasing your face, shoving your jaw closed with the heel of his palm. From this angle he could see your neck ripple as you swallowed, and the sight had him deepening his thrusts with a low groan.

Yes, yes, finally. His cock stroked fire along your walls, the sensation of fullness making your eyes roll into your skull. Drunk from deprivation, you wanted more. You blindly reached down the contour of his obliques and drove your thumb back into his wound, finding the slight firmness of another suture and digging into his flesh until you felt a sinewy pop. Kylo Ren roared, his hips stuttering as his body locked up in a rippling wave of tension. Eyes wild, he gripped your throat again, yanking you roughly as your eyes flew open and met his.

“Fucking filthy slut.”

He slammed into you at a merciless pace, hurtling you past any possibility of orgasm and straight into overstimulation as your body burned around him. Your vision swam, your ears beginning to ring as he pounded you relentlessly. Blood struggled to reach your brain under his grip, building a pressure in your skull that made your face vibrate.

He slowed his pace suddenly, and heat sparked to the tips of your nerves again, alighting on every inch of your quivering skin and fuck, you were close. Oh, fuckfuckfuc--

“Cum. Cum for me. Fuck!”

Ren wildly snatched the cautery pen from where you left it on the bed stand, lit it, and plunged the glowing tines straight into the flesh of your thigh. White hot pain fractured your vision, locked every muscle down tight with a scream you couldn’t hear as your orgasm eviscerated you.

Breath stuttered back into your lungs in hazy, broken sobs. Euphoric pain was weeping from your nerves, flowing across your skin to rival the tears that now ran free and hot down your face while razorblades of pleasure still flayed your veins open. The ringing in your ears finally began to give way to low grunts breaking over the fragmented tide of your sobs.

“Good girl, g-ood, fuck-- shh... pretty fucking thing.” Ren’s deep murmurs faded into your eardrums, the words slurring and thickening through his teeth as he pried the tool from your sizzling flesh. He set it aside, pace unrelenting, and dragged a hand over your cheek. Sticky blood mixed with your tears as his fingers fastened into the flesh of your face. He watched your eyes come back into focus, his own glazed in primal rapture.

He propelled a few more slamming thrusts into the depths of you as the death throes of your orgasm withered on your skin. And then you were empty, gasping, and he was flipping you over so easily you didn’t know which way was up any more. Your breath was muffled by a pillow, and you turned your face just in time for a massive, dirty hand to come down on your cheekbone.

He crushed your face into the fabric, wrestling your hips upwards with his other forearm until your knees reluctantly shifted up to support them. You whimpered at the pressure on your skull and the throbbing pain that radiated from your thigh, but the sound deepened in your chest when you felt the blunt head of his cock graze along your swollen lips. Stars, you needed him to fill you in any way, your emptiness now entwining with your pain to send a cry of grief through your shuddering bones that could only be soothed by that voice, those hands, that perfectly thick cock in any part of you. Overcome, you moaned for it.

“Fuck,” he rasped, dragging his tip back and forth over your clit, adding skittering jolts to the ache that might as well be burning away your peritoneum like paper, causing your organs to pour out over the floor in gruesome mercy. He slid his hand back along the curve of your spine, releasing your face, and you gasped in the acrid taste of copper. His palms smothered your ass, fingers splaying wide and squeezing, pulling your cheeks up and apart for his view. It was filthy, the eroticism of it, but shame was a faraway song in the tempest of your need, barely heard as you clutched the sheets and arched in presentation for him. You heard a hissing intake of breath, which he let out in a slew of unintelligible filth as the fat head of his cock slowly split you again.

Even after just moments of vacancy you had to readjust to the size of him, but the stretch was utterly demulcent this time as he gradually sheathed himself in your aching walls until his head was grinding down against your cervix. Your eyes flew wide with a gasp as you clawed the sheet, streaking it redder, willing your body to relax around the merciless presence of his cock. He pumped his hips once, slowly, powerfully, and your eyes rolled back again as your muscles turned to warm jelly.

“Kylo…” You barely heard yourself moan out, and you had no idea whether he heard you either, as a loud groan suddenly kicked up his pace and the decibels of his rambling.

“Ffffuuck, feel sofuckinggood, so tight…. fucking perfect little cunt…”

You could die, you could actually fucking die from how it felt to lose yourself in this, how possessed you were by the repulsive freedom of it, of him, spitting filthy nothings into the thick air while you entwined yourselves in the dirty rut of shameless pleasure and pain.

You felt hot liquid trickle into the seam between your flesh and Ren’s with the next few smacks of his hips against your ass. His pace faltered, and he fell over you like a snarling carnivore, palms slamming down on the backs of your hands and pinning them beside your head. His breath tickled hot in your ear, and you shuddered, clenching around him.

“I’m going to make you cum again.” He snarled, before yanking you back sharply by your hair until you were nearly upright on your knees, your shoulder blades meeting the warmth of his chest. You caught a flash of blood-coated fingers as they reached around you and began to rub hot, wet circles over your clit.

“Like the filthy fucking whore you are. That I- fuck- knew you were.”

Your muscles gave out as he spoke, your body supported only by his overbearing strength, as euphoria wrapped your nerve endings in white flame. You were keening, though you could hardly hear yourself, as the pressure on your clit started to pull a second orgasm outward from your bones.

His hips pounded ruthlessly against your ass as he brutally fucked you, the force of it knocking air from your lungs with every impact. A glow began to erupt from your spine with the next few passes of his fingers over your clit, and then you were cumming, hard, sailing into an abyss of ecstasy that swallowed your sight. When you resurfaced he was roaring, his arm a vice around your ribs, his cock slamming deep and slow inside of your quaking walls and pulsing with his release. 

Ren collapsed on top of you, flattening you into the mattress. Dizziness swam through your blood, intensified by his weight crushing your lungs. He felt warm, sated, absolutely sublime as your spent hole fluttered around his cock, the sensation of his damp breaths on your shoulder easily overriding your need for oxygen. You were perfectly content to lay like this until you blacked out, if that’s what it would take to keep him there.

But then he was rolling off of you, a soft groan rumbling through his body as the cold air of the room kissed the sweat on your spine. It sobered you like an ice bath and you shifted away from him, suddenly feeling the weight of a needed distance between yourself and the Supreme Leader. You dropped your legs to the floor to stand, and pain ricocheted up your body from your thigh. You winced as your leg buckled in a blatant refusal to support your weight, catching yourself on the edge of the bed frame.

You instead sank back onto the small stool, and felt it become slick with cum as you grabbed wads of gauze from a drawer in the bed stand. Blood was gushing from his abdomen again, joining the sheen of bright red that mottled most of his skin as well as the sheets, and you began to work mechanically to staunch the flow once more. Kylo shifted onto his back and let you do it, his eyes falling shut as panting breaths oscillated through his chest. You were filthy, you registered, as you looked down at the red-brown crust of half dried blood that was smeared on your hands and all the way up your forearms.

You gently dabbed at his skin, slowly cleansing the mess and wrangling the bleeding back under your practiced control. The edges of your skin practically cried out in neglect, the dull pain that thrummed through your body begging to be soothed by even the smallest of tender touches that you didn’t dare ask for. The pain seemed to catch up to him as well now. He breathed through it, but you saw it lock up in his exhales, in the tense pull of his brow over his dark lashes. You let the pass of his skin under your palms soothe you both until his bare skin glowed clean and the bleeding was no more than a steady trickle.

Staring at his comparatively clean body under your blood-crusted hands, you suddenly felt disgustingly exposed in your nakedness. You stooped quickly to grab the leg of your pants where they lay on the floor, but Ren’s hand gripped your arm roughly, yanking your elbow back onto the stained mattress.

"Oh, pretty thing.” He growled. “We're not finished, yet."

#kylo ren x reader #kylo ren imagine #kylo ren #kylo ren smut #kylo x reader #star wars fanfiction #smut #darkfic #innocuous #my works #this was incredibly exhausting and challenging to write #i would love any and all feedback #masterlist

[tooweirdforyou]

Ily and I'm so proud of you 🥺👉🏼👈🏼💙 keep up the good work my child 🍪

With that being said, ima request for the first time 😈

Can you hit me with that Luffy, prompt 16 ? Do it however you like 😚

Holiday Prompt #16 With Luffy

A/N : I hope I didn’t already use this pic- thank you for requesting!!! 🥰🖤 ilyt :DD thank you for being proud of me, 🍪 🥺 hope you enjoy this! :))

H.P. #16 : “I pray Santa doesn’t give me coal this year..”

Summary : In which, Luffy decides to cheer up his significant other and shine the positivity of Christas spirit. not good with summaries

-

“Do we really have to do this?”

Hearing the Christmas music being played and sung by Brook in the background, you sigh softly at the sight of Usopp, Chopper and Franky cheering and singing the lyrics loudly to their hearts content.

Sanji was in the kitchen, whipping up a special feast for dinner, Zoro was napping on the deck and light snow falling down upon him.

Robin was currently on the upper deck, unboxing the many decorations that the two girls, Usopp and Luffy bought to hang around the ship, while you and Nami were setting up the decorations on the Christmas tree.

“Why not? It’s a tradition and plus, it’ll be fun to celebrate with the crew.” Nami smiles as she hangs another ornament up onto tree.

You only sweat drop at the sight of Luffy screaming the lyrics with a huge grin.

“NEXT SONG! YO-HO-HO-HO~

Chopper the Blue-Nosed Reindeer

Had a very shiny nose

And if you ever saw it

You would even say it glows

All of the other humans

Used to scream and call him names

They never let poor Chopper

Join in any human games!

Then one foggy Winter day

One human came to say

"Chopper, with your nose so bright

Won't you come home with me tonight?"

Then how the humans loved him

As they shouted out with glee

"Chopper the Blue-Nosed Reindeer

You'll go down in history!””

You smile slightly at the lyrics and just shake your head at Luffy’s weirdness and hung up another decoration.

“I don’t know, I guess I just think it’s so.. over the top. Especially with Luffy begging to invite everyone we’ve met to celebrate with us..” you mutter, trailing off as you thought back to your memory from yesterday.

Nami scowls at the memory and you could see the tense aura radiating off of her. “He’s seriously insane..” Nami suddenly turned back to her cheery mood and smiles at you.

“So [Name]-“

“[NAAAAMEEEE]!”

Before you could react, you suddenly felt yourself be shoved down onto the deck, Luffy on top of you with a wide grin. “[Name]! [Name]! I have a question! Are you listening?!”

Hearing his words and his eagerness level of a child’s, you grunt a bit and look up at him hovering over you. “Yes, I’m listening. What is it, Luffy?”

Nami just stares in shock, Robin giggling a bit to herself and the others just ignored and continued to sing or do whatever they wanted.

“What do you want for Christmas?”

Taken back, you furrow your bows at him and his random question. “Uh, I don’t know.. why?”

“Because, I wanna know! Can you guess what I want for Christmas?” Luffy smiles brightly and you couldn’t help but smile at how excited and joyful he was about this holiday.

“Meat?” You mused, slowly pushing Luffy off so you could sit up properly. Luffy slides off of you and laughs. “Shishishi~,”

“Yeah! But also, I want to spend Christmas with all of you!” He grins widely with closed eyes.

The others, who were listening, were surprised before they relaxed and smiled at their Captain, hearts warming at his words.

You smile softly at Luffy and his pure heart and just shake your head, getting up and dusting off your clothes. “Looks like you’re getting everything you want for Christmas then. Your list is all checked off.”

Luffy smiled softer towards you, about to speak before Sanji interrupted him. “Oi, dinner time! Feast is all ready!”

Luffy quickly snaps his head to the kitchen with stars in his eyes and drool coming out of his mouth. “MEAT!”

You laugh at Luffy’s actions and ruffle his hair slightly, bringing his attention back to you. “Let’s go, Captain.”

“Yeah!”

-

“[Name], you didn’t answer me. What do you want for Christmas?”

Hearing Luffy, you glance towards him, sitting on the ground with his legs crossed and his straw hat resting on top of his head.

You two were currently alone in your room, you rummaging through your clothes while Luffy watched you.

“I already said I don’t know.. I never thought about it.” You shrug before turning away with a pout. “Though, I pray Santa doesn’t give me coal this year..”

Luffy seemed interested in your statement as he tilts his head curiously at you, confusion running through his head.

“Why would you get coal for a Christmas?” He then thought about what Makino taught him as a kid and he gasps dramatically, eyes widening.

“Have you been naughty, [Name]?!”

You blink a couple times at Luffy’s genuine shock and laugh heartily aloud, which confused the poor captain further.

“I suppose I have been..” you shake your head playfully and continue to go through your clothes, organizing your things.

“But, I don’t know, every year, I either would find myself with coal to warm myself up during the winters or I wouldn’t get anything at all.”

Luffy listens intently as he leans back on the floor before he stretches his arms and propels himself onto your bed.

“It never really bothered me whether I had something or not, but I’m not looking forward to coals anymore.” You glance back to Luffy, to see he moved and was now laying down comfortably on your bed.

He seemed to be in thought.

You close your drawer and walk over towards the bed, taking a seat at the edge and smile lightly. “What did you use to get for Christmas, Luffy?”

Luffy hums softly, staying quiet for a moment before smiling softly. “The same thing every year as a kid. Just a fistful of love punches from Gramps, and then meat and clothes from Makino and the old mayor in my village!” He laughs a bit at the memory of his childhood.

You giggle lightly and place a hand on his arm and rubbed it gently. “Sounds like a fun time.” You hum and Luffy nods with a better smile.

Soon, a lightbulb went off his head as he grins childishly. “I have an idea..”

Your smile quickly fades as a brow was soon raised towards him. “...what is it?”

Luffy didn’t answer you and only chuckles to himself as he gets up and rushes out the room, calling for Usopp and Brook.

You sigh at Luffy and stared at the doorway. “He’s a weird one.. but he’s my weird one.”

-

“HO, HO, HO!”

“Why?..”

You deadpan at the sight of Luffy in the all too familiar red and white outfit, a fake white beard over his face and the proper red hat to go with.

“Luffy, what are you up to..?” Usopp and Nami sigh and Luffy clears his throat. “I’m Santa!”

“Don’t be stupid.. who would actually-“ Sanji was interrupted by a yell.

“WOAH, ITS SANTA CLAUS!!” Chopper shrieks in awe, eyes widening with stars inside, at the sight.

“Never mind..” Sanji sighs, exhaling a puff of smoke from his lit cigarette.

Franky, Brook, Robin and you stood from the sidelines and watched, before you walk over to Luffy and grabbed at his exposed cheek.

“Wow.. who knew Santa was so stretchy?..” you joke, pulling at his skin and watching it stretch out, Luffy grunting a bit.

“Oi! Stop that!” He shouts before clearing his throat again. “I’m Santa Claus, and I have presents!”

“PRESENTS?!” Chopper and Usopp yell in unison and you sigh once more at them and their gullibility.

“Yep! And I have a special one for [Name]!”

Now this piqued your interest. “For me?” You question with brows furrowed as Luffy reached into his bag and pulled out a box.

“Mmh! Someone told me you were afraid of getting coals this Christmas! So I came to give you something else instead!”

You eye him suspiciously before opening the box and widening your eyes.

Reaching in, you grasp the item in your hand and pulled it out, staring at it closely.

Then, a small smile broke from your lips.

Luffy stared at you closely and waited for your reaction. “Wellll? Do you like it?” Luffy was no longer doing his deep voice and was now back to his regular self.

The others stare in silence and curiosity, wondering what it was.

A snort escaped your lips as you smiled wider. “You’re so.. weird, Luffy.” You mumble, staring at the object in your hand and held it tightly.

Luffy grins as he pulls down his fake beard to show his warm smile.

“This is much better than coals. I love it, thank you Luffy.” Clutching it tight in your fist, you wrap your arms around Luffy and hugged him tightly, to which he gladly returned.

“Shishishi!~ I’m glad you like it!” He smiles warmly with his eyes closed and faint blush appearing on his cheeks.

You gave a light peck to his cheek and took a look at the item once more, a genuine smile embracing your features.

...

“Wait, what is it?” Usopp asks, interrupting the sweet moment between the two of you.

You chuckle and held it up in between your fingers. “It’s a rock with a smiley face on it.”

Silence overtook the crew.

“HAH?!”

-

a/n : I feel like this wasn’t my best work— but I still really liked this, even if I couldn’t think of anything 😅 but I hoped you all did too!! So sorry this took a while and if it’s not what you expected either! :(

#tooweirdforyou #one piece #one piece x reader #op x reader #x reader #luffy x reader #one piece writing #holiday prompt #monkey d. luffy #monkey d. luffy x reader #op

[realcube]

her prince || fairytale au! iida x reader

summary: you disguise as a princess in order to get into a formal event at the palace with the intention of killing the king but then you encounter the prince, soon to be king, and he’s a bit more charming than you’d like to admit.

(a/n): idk this might be a royalty au! or perhaps a medieval au! but idek tbh

tw// fem! reader, poison, mentions of animal zapping, begging, a bit of meanie iida

“Why does (y/n) get to be the princess?” Your friend, and fellow member of the SOIR, whined from beside you. “She has the most peasanty features out of us all!” 

Everyone else in the base groaned in union at her constant whining about the assigned roles, the ring leader of this operation — otherwise known as Katsuki Bakugo — finally broke his elongated silence as he previously seemed quite invested in whatever he was scribbling. 

Suddenly, he shot up from his desk then proceeded to slam his fist against it, causing all of it’s contents to tremble, “Shut up! As if you’re one to talk about peasanty features, Mina!” He barked at the girl, his aggressive demeanour faltering once he noticed how his hostility caused you to wear an alarmed expression. 

“We need her natural charm on the field, anyway.” he muttered, hastily sitting back down at his desk. Kirishima, Sero and Kaminari all had to do their best to suppress their snickers and focus on the tasks they had been given. However, they were all struggling as it was simply comedy gold to see their boss have such an evident crush on (y/n) but simultaneously be so far deep in denial for the sake of his pride.

Bakugo grabbed the scroll he had been writing on for the last few hours and held it up to display what looked like a numbered list, written in cursive. Therefore, you were unable to read it. In fact, none of you were able to read it; Bakugo was the only literate one among you, hence the reason why he immediately assumed leader of this operation even though it was originally your idea.

Upon noticing all of your blank expressions as you stared at what looked like a glorified piece of paper, he cleared his throat so he could begin explaining what he wrote to you. “I wrote out the plan-of-action for us to follow tomorrow but I forgot that you are all dunces so I’m going to have to read it aloud for you, aren’t I?”

You all nodded in unison which was promptly followed by Bakugo rolling his eyes once more and turning to read the plan.

“SOIR — stage one in (the) revolution — plan of action. Written and led by Katsuki Bakugo, soon to be King Explosion Murder!” He smiled to himself but it was accompanied by a chorus of groans from the rest of you.

“Step one; Kaminari steals a horse from his dad’s farm at exactly 5:15PM, rides it to the outskirts of the village so Sero can hook it up to the carriage. Meanwhile, Mina will assist (y/n) in putting on her gown and help ensure Kirishima puts on his suit and make-up properly. Afterwards, both parties will meet up by the carriage.

Step two; Sero will be coachman for the carriage to take (y/n) and Kirishima to the castle. Take the desired route and you should arrive at the palace by 6PM. 

Step three; Sero will drop off Kirishima and (y/n) then ride back to this base immediately, where Kaminari, Mina and myself will already be waiting. As for (y/n) and Kirishima, they will try to get into the palace and keep a low profile.”

You sighed, aware of how much Bakugo hates to be interrupted during his ‘serious monologue’, and you could tell it was one of those as he used your real names rather than the nicknames he’d given to you like ‘dunceface’ or ‘the pauper’. However, you just had to interject as you were yet to be filled in with some crucial information to your part of the operation.

“Bakugo,” You halted him as he finished his sentence, quickly averting your gaze to the floor as you had a habit of losing your train of thoughts as you looked into his fierce crimson eyes. “How are we supposed to get in? Are there any openings or secret passages you’ve located?” Your eyes widened in excitement at the idea that you could be like a proper assassin; using secret passages, going undercover, dealing with poison and all that good stuff! 

“No.” Bakugo replied bluntly, instantly shooting down any dreams you had of this being a cool mission. “Security on the palace will extremely tight considering this is a royal event. Only people who received an invite from the palace — hence, on the guest list — are allowed in, but I’ve already dealt with that obstacle--”

“You mean I dealt with that obstacle!” Kaminari cut him off with an offended tone before turning to look at you and Kirishima. “I was the one who zapped that messenger raven out of the sky to steal the invitation!” 

“Shut it, moron!” Bakugo barked, slamming his fist against the desk once again to grab everyone’s attention, his palm emitting tiny, and very much illegal, explosions. He slowly shifted his gaze on to you and spoke in an eerily soft tone, “Anyway, you and Kirishima will go under the aliases of ‘Princess Momo Yaoyorozu from the Yaoyorozu isles, and company’. So you will be able to waltz right in there, just don’t act suspicious.”

“How come (y/n) gets a cool, noble name and I am just ‘company’. Also, if my role is unspecified then why do I have to be her father? Can’t I just be her brother or something so I don’t have to wear that silly old-person wig?” Kirishima whined, immediately followed by Bakugo glaring daggers at him. 

“No, idiot, you have to be her father. If you dress as an old man then you’d be more likely to get in close proximity to the King.” Bakugo replied, impatience laced in his voice. He prided himself in coming up with such a logical excuse on the spot when in reality, the reason he wanted Kirishima to dress up as an old man was to guarantee that you don’t fall for him while on this mission. I mean, no matter how ravishing Kirishima was, how could you find him the least bit attractive while he looked like he was on the brink of extinction?

Kirishima grumbled inaudible curses under his breath as he slumped back in his chair defeatedly. Followed by Bakugo trying to resume his lecture but ceasing to do so as the familiar sound of groans erupted from all of you. 

“You’ve been over the last part of the plan, like, ten times already. Just today!” Mina pointed out, folding her arms of her chest and jutting her bottom lip out in disapproval. 

Sero hastily agreed with the girl, “Yeah! Here, I’ll summarise it for you.” Sero snickered before clearing his throat to prepare for his Bakugo impression, “ ‘You guys will sneak poison into the King’s quiche or whatever then I, King Explosion Murder, will come marching in to save the day and reclaim the land by declaring myself the new king! Bow to me, peasants!’ ” 

You and Mina both giggled at Sero’s rather accurate, yet satire, impersonation of the leader himself. While Kaminari and Kirishima both jokingly bowed to Sero, robotically muttering ‘all hail, king explosion murder.’

“Hey! Quit it!” Bakugo bellowed, furrowing his eyebrows as he clasped his hand together and pressed inwards, forcefully repressing his urge to blow up the whole fucking base. “I’m not going to go over the plan again so if one of you dumbasses mess it up tomorrow then you’re getting a boot to the face, got it?” 

“Yes, Lord Explosion Murder.” You all said monotonously in concert.

“You’re all fools!”

»»—————-　♔　—————-««

Step one, two and three had went smoothly. It almost seemed to good to be true.

Kaminari successfully managed to borrow the horses without anyone noticing, Mina did a spectacular job of making Kirishima look like an old man — as well as the skilful embroidery on your dress — and Sero managed to drive you here with all your limbs still intact. 

As for you and Kirishima, you both mastered the role of snobby aristocrats surprisingly fast, considering you both came from extremely deprived families. But it was as if the lifestyle just came naturally to you, hence you were both able to enter the castle without a problem.

However, no amount of acting expertise would allow you to hide the star-struck look which took over your features as you admired the massive Corinthian hall which you had the honour of stepping into. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, providing light along with the pale candles which sat in the alcoves of the walls. The roof was jaw-droppingly high and was expertly painted with detailed images of religious scenes; angels, the virgin mary, jesus, fairies, dragons, everything. 

At the other side of the hall sat none of than the King himself, looking smugly upon the crowds of people that filled his ballroom as he sat upon his extravagant throne, made of gold mined by slaves and welded together by citizens of the kingdom who were currently in poverty, but who the king also claimed to care so deeply about.

Disgusting. Consequent to seeing that evil vermin, your look of awe immediately dropped.

Your eyebrows knitted together as you simply could not avert your gaze from that man and his generally villainous demeanour that everybody just seemed to ignore. With a sigh, you leaned back against a pillar and mused, “Ugh, look at that vile creature just sitting here like he owns the place, just wait until he gets a taste of his own medicine. Right, Kirishima?”

You spoke, spinning your head around to look at your red-haired partner after you received nothing but a muffled ‘huh?’ as an answer. “What do you mea- oh!” you instantly cut yourself off upon realising that who you were spilling your plans to was not Kirishima but rather some dashing young man who was currently stuffing his was with damper bread.

“I- I am so sorry, sir. I thought you were someone else. Erm, uh, I shall take my leave now.” You stuttered, swiftly turning on your heels to bolt off in search of Kirishima but you were stopped in your tracks by the man scarfing the last piece he was holding to offer out his hand to you.

“No need to apologise! I, too, mistook you for someone else. That is why I was eating so gluttonously in your presence, my apologies.” He said, leaning forward into a bow to press a gentle kiss on your chuckles once you gave him your hand.

“I’m Tenya Iida, by the way. It’s a pleasure to meet you!”  He spoke, his tone suddenly becoming a lot less formal after he straightened up from his bow while slowly retracting his hand. “And would I be right in assuming that you are Princess Yoayorozu of the Yoayorozu Isles?”

Now that he was standing straight, without a pudding in his hand, you could take a moment to discretely examine him. He stood tall with his shoulders back and his head high to perfectly balance his glasses on the bridge of his nose, everything about his posture screamed ‘royalty’, not to mention his blue undercut which was slicked back into a loose comb-over. As for his outfit, he wore a white shirt along with a royal blue tie which complemented his blazer which was a similar shade, with the kingdom’s crest positioned on the left hand side of his chest. There was also his straight-legged navy trousers, his black derby shoes and his matching designer watch but what really brought the outfit together was his bold, enchanting smile. 

You blinked a few time as it took a moment for that name to register in your mind but once it, you nodded rapidly in response. “Ah, yes, that would be me.” You chirped casually until his name finally clicked in you’re head, “Wait, are you Iida Tenya like- the king’s son Iida Tenya or?” You inquired, trying to act ‘casual’ as if you hadn’t been practising many week preparatory for today but the nervous look in your eyes was unconcealable.

Iida couldn’t help but chuckle at how bewildered you seemed while asking that question, “Well, yes, unfortunately.” He mumbled the last part but it was still said clearly enough for you to hear. “As you are probably aware, today is my coronation. But to say that I’m dreading the crowning is an understatement.”

You quirked an eyebrow at this new information. Well, it wasn’t really knew. The whole of SOIR knew that the formal event was going to the coronation for the new king. Hence, you and Kirishima were made aware that you had two targets to eliminate, but if you had known that the to-be king was such a cutie nice guy then perhaps you would’ve fought his case.

Logically speaking though, for this plan to work, both targets had to be eliminated. It was pointless to only poison the current king, as the crown would already be Tenya’s since the dinner which you planned to spike was going to be served after the crowning. And if you only poisoned Iida, not only would that upset you but the king would simply hand his status over to Tensei, who had been pushed back in the line for the crown due to his impairments after leading and fighting in many wars. 

But, how could you kill Tenya when he was just so...charming?

None the less, somebody had to it. The lives of many citizens were in your hands tonight, as success would lead to improved situations for all. Once the monarchy is gone, there will be nobody stopping you from using your quirks freely! Plus, the royals would no longer hoard all the luxury and wealth of the kingdom, so everybody would be able to lead happy lives, free from financial burdens.

The list goes on but for now, you just had to look that fetching prince right in the eyes and think to yourself, ‘he’s the reason i’m poor’; which was easy to believe considering that the watch adorning his left wrist was probably worth enough to free your whole family from poverty.

It somewhat worked, but not really. The way his honeyed crimson eyes would gaze into your own was enough to make your heart flutter but you mentally reassured yourself that you were most definitely not falling and heart palpitations were just a symptom from your lack of sleep.

“Anyway,” Iida began once more, the tips of his ears heating up as he realised that he had been staring at you for an elongated amount of time. “It has been lovely speaking to you today but it’s about time that I take my leave, duty calls.”  He said, mentally scolding himself for being such a creep and hoping that you paid no mind to his lengthened gaze.

“Ah, alright, I wouldn’t want to keep you any longer than needed.” You sung, awkwardly fidgeting with your fingers as you recalled the ‘manner classes’  Bakugo made you and Kirishima take part in to help you avoid instances like this where you had no clue how to formally end an interaction, with a prince of all people.

It was a long shot but it was your best guess. You swiftly grabbed Iida’s hand, pulled it up to your face and before he had time to react, you planted a kiss on his knuckles — just like had done to you — before bolting off into the sea of aristocrats to go find Kirishima. Leaving Iida standing, blushing more than ever, slightly confused but mostly amused. 

“She’s really something.” He muttered to himself, scratching the side of his neck before hurriedly marching towards the throne, in search of his brother.

Although their interaction was brief, Iida would be lying if he said he wasn’t silently praying that he’d run into the girl again.

»»—————-　♔　—————-««

Step 4 went perfectly. 

‘mingle for exactly 10 minutes until food preparation. Then, (y/n) will use her quirk to sneak into the kitchen while Kirishima distracts anyone that could catch her in the act.’

Bakugo’s gruff voice echoed throughout your head like that of a siren, as you waited for the perfect opportunity to spike the three large, extravagant platters of food laying on the golden trolley which was rumoured to deliver all three of the king’s daily meals. 

At first you thought you had an issue as you had no idea which meal belonged to which person, they all looked almost identical, meaning that you might accidently poison the wrong meal, hence murder Tensei in vain. However, then you recalled a piece of wisdom Bakugo had given you offhandedly once, ‘y’know, there’s a tradition in this kingdom stating that the elders should be served the most salad on the side of a dish — so hand over your cucumbers, bitch!’

So with that in mind, your arm emerged from the shadows once most of the cooks had cleared from the kitchen to tend to other duties, and you dropped some of the poison into the dish with the most salad and the dish with the least to ensure that Tensei got to see the light of tomorrow. 

I mean, you could’ve just poisoned all three to avoid doing all that critical thinking but not only was it risky, you also kind of had a soft spot for Tensei despite the fact he was basically double your age.

Utilising the shadows as your disguise, you stuck out of the kitchen yet you were unable to find a pathway back into the ballroom since there were just so many chefs crowding around the entrance to kitchen. You were sure to get caught if you exited the shadows from there but luckily, there was alternative.

There was a back door of the kitchen which led out into the grand garden, allowing the chefs to waft the smoke out and into the open air, if needed. So through the shadows, you were able to sneak out into the garden without being noticed by a single person. 

Or so you thought.

As you jumped out of the shadows and swiftly turned a corner to look for a route back into the palace, you were greeted by a familiar face that wore an incredibly stunned expression. From behind their glasses, they squinted to try recognise you through the dark night. 

“Oh, Ms Yaoyorozu.” Iida chuckled, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck as he realised that it was you he had bumped in to during his attempt at ditching his own coronation. Also, since he had just witnessed you doing a rather illicit act. “I’m not sure if you were ever made aware, but quirk usage is very much forbidden in this kingdom.”

You blinked rapidly, surprised at how oddly level-headed he was being about having just watched you sneak out of the kitchen, “Oh-” you choked, looking around to see if anybody else was around but the coast seemed to be clear; well, as far as you could tell, but that wasn’t easy considering the foggy night appeared to fleece everything. “I am so sorry. I was never told about such rules but I’ll be su--”

“Yes, you were.” 

There was a while of silence between the two of you. To say you were taken aback was a understatement, why was he suddenly so confrontational? And why did he say that with such a nasty look in his eyes? Does he know something you do not? Even though you had only met him barely an hour ago, you could still tell that his comment was quite out-of-character. Hence you were hardly able to stammer out a reply, “W-w- um, was I?”

The tip of Iida’s lips twitched upwards as examined your bewildered expression; it brought him infinite amounts of amusement at how ignorant you must’ve thought he was to imagine that he could fall for your silly little ploy. 

“Yes. Well, I mean, Ms Yaoyorozu had knowledge of these laws; the rules of the kingdom were attached to the invite, but you’ve made it rather clear that you’re not Yaoyorozu.”  The words rolled off his tongue, each one sharper than the last; he didn’t plan on calling you out on your impersonation tonight but as his eyes skimmed over the terrified expression on you face, he was immensely glad that he did.

“So, tell me, who are you? Other than a scum-of-the-earth imposter that deserves to rot in slums for the rest of their poor, pathetic life.

You faltered slightly at his threat before blurting out, “Momo’s cousin.”

Iida snorted, but quickly tried to force a serious scowl back onto his features, “Exactly how gullible do you think I am?”

At this point, you were at a loss. The prince stood angry in front of you; meaning that it only took a yell for most of the guards in the palace come marching over to you, before tossing into the dungeon cell which you would have no choice but to call home for the rest of your life.

So if you didn’t act fast and wisely, this could be the last moment of freedom you’ll ever experience.

Throwing away your pride, you dropped to your knees in front of the prince, leaning forward to press your forehead against the shining tops of his derby shoes as you cried, but not loud enough to catch the guard’s attention.

 “Please, your highness! I- I’m just a kid; like you! I swear I wasn’t here to cause trouble, I just--” your pleas were cut off by your own saliva getting temporarily caught in your throat but this gave you the opportunity to conjure up a believable excuse.

“I just--” you repeated, desperately attempting to come up with something until you mindlessly blurted out, “I just wanted to feel like royalty! Please give me another chance!”

Iida eyes widened at this; was it too far-fetched to believe that you created an elaborate plan to sneak into the palace, all for the ‘aesthetic’? Perhaps. But the way your glossy, sorrow-filled eyes looked up at him from the ground made his heart sink to his stomach while a sickly feeling ascended to his throat.

He felt so guilty.

In a moment of panic, he used his power to threaten and frighten a poor girl to the point where she was now begging for life on the paving beneath him. Although you were technically a felon, there seemed to be no malicious intentions behind your crime so why should you be prosecuted for it? Yet Iida still used his status to instil fear into you, solely to feel superior.

Perhaps he is not as different from his father as he once thought; a horrible feeling really, as Tenya despised no one more than that man. Iida wants no association with him or the horrible monocracy established in the kingdom. Which is why he chose to run away from his coronation. He hoped to fake his own kidnapping for a few weeks, then he’d come out of hiding and pray that Tensei had been given the crown instead.

He couldn’t bare seeing you on the dirty ground any longer so he hastily took your hand to assist you in standing back upright, “It’s-- you’re pardoned, just please come with me. This’ll only take a moment.” 

At this point you’d just go along with anything he said, under the assumption that if you disobeyed, you’d be banished. So you trailed behind him, his hand acting as your guide since you could hardly see past the tears which clouded your vision. 

You both approached a white wooden gazebo with a matching pale metal bench, he quickly took a seat and pulled you down next to him, sandwiching your hand in-between his own and caressing the back with his thumb as he waited patiently for you blubbers to die down. 

His lips fell into a frown as he watched you desperately wipe the tears away from under your eyes but smear your expertly applied mascara in the process, “My sincerest apologies; I don’t know what came over me.” He spluttered, harshly biting his bottom lip to silence himself. 

You took deep breaths, hurriedly trying to compose yourself before the prince snapped at you again. So, once the tears had stop brimming in your eyes, you looked at him with a ready expression. However, your faint sniffles, red eyes and smudged make-up didn’t do a good job at reinforcing it.

“Alright,” Iida started, removing one of his hands from yours to push his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “I understa--”

“Are you going to imprison me?”

Iida choked on thin air, his eyes widening at your random — but seemingly genuine — inquiry. “Good heavens, no! Never! What makes you think that?” Was he really that menacing? He was only a prince and he was already using his authority for intimidation. Iida could only imagine how mad with power he’d become if he were to take the crown.

Good thing he wasn’t going to. 

The reality of the situation you were in hit you like a truck as you caught a glimpse of the time from Iida’s designer watch since he had his hand resting upon your knee. You inhaled sharply, doing your best to compose yourself, “Sir-”

“No need to call me ‘sir’, I’m Tenya. Plus, we’re around the same age so ‘sir’ is hardly appropriate.” He chuckled, his lips forming a reassuring smile. In any other case, he’d go by Iida but he didn’t want you to associate him with his father in any sense, even if it was just by surname.

“Oh, how rude of me. I completely forgot to ask, what’s your name? And you have my word that I won’t do anything spiteful with this information.”

“I’m (y/n).” You replied without a second though, before continuing, “Your crowning is supposed to be in 10 minutes, correct? I think you should get going.” You hummed, trying your best to hide how tense and conflicted you were. If Iida doesn’t bugger off right now then he’s gonna miss the ceremony which will lead to a high chance of the event being rescheduled, therefore you’re going to have to act out this plan all over again! How many more messenger ravens does Kaminari need to zap?! 

But on the other hand, there was some part of you that really didn’t want him to leave for some reason; perhaps you enjoyed his company a little more than you’d like to admit. Another part of you said that he doesn’t deserve to die, he’s too nice of a guy; then you remembered the evil, corrupt glint in his eyes as he told you about the fate he wished upon you just a few minutes ago, then you didn’t feel as bad.

Your kind reminder was met by Iida simply shaking his head, “Absolutely not! There is no way I can leave you after I said those horrible things. Plus, it’s not as if I want to be king, anyway.” He mumbled the last part but of course you heard it as his face was only a few inches away from yours.

“Why don’t you want to be king?” 

Iida didn’t even hesitate to reply with the response that had been waiting on the tip of his tongue, “I shan’t participate in the monarchy. I plan on staying in hiding for a week before coming out, hopefully by then Tensei will be crowned king and I will get to lead the army instead.” 

As soon as his plan fell from his lips, his eyes immediately widened. Why was he telling you this?! I mean, now that you knew his plan, once he ‘goes missing’ you could easily tell the king that this was part of his scheme all along, in which case the king wouldn’t crown Tensei and instead send out search parties for Tenya. But then again, why would the king listen to a pauper like you? No offence, it’s just that those who come from a lower social status are less likely to be allowed in the castle, and less likely to meet the king. 

So he reasoned to himself that there was no harm in telling you his plan, but a part of him couldn’t help but wonder why he subconsciously felt comfortable enough to tell you in the first place. I mean, he’s only known you for an evening; surely there’s no why he’s caught feelings this fast, right?

Your heart skipped a beat upon hearing his circumstances, thinking that this was the end of SOIR, but the more you thought about it, you realised that perhaps this was a good thing. 

This meant that — assuming the king eats the meal prepared for him regardless of the ceremony — the king will be dead so the only person you’d have to eliminate was Tensei who was widely known to be more lenient about the rules of the kingdom. I mean, he let his troops take a water-break during battle for goodness’ sake! Assassinating him should be a piece of cake, especially for the SOIR.

Also, this ensures that you won’t have to kill Tenya, which is a thought that made you oddly happy and relieved. 

Sniffling quietly, you rubbed beneath your eyes to further mess up the eyeliner and mascara Mina had done for you. Then you hummed, “Oh, that’s cool, Tenya.”

“And I would like for you to be my bride once I emerge from hiding!” 

You froze, blinking rapidly and inquiring further in hopes that perhaps you misheard him, “Huh? Your what?”

“Bride!” He chirped, scanning the baffled look on your face and figuring that he should elaborate, “See, I think it works in both of our favours; you get to live a somewhat royal life and I get to settle down with someone who my father did not pick out for me. Plus, though I’m no love expert, I can definitely feel something special between the two of us. I hope that’s not just me being a fool. But anyway, I completely understand if you refuse, marriage is a huge commitment.”

Even after he finished explaining, you still sat there staring at him, absolutely flabbergasted that he really just asked you to marry him. Also, quite shocked that there was a scarily large part of you that wanted to accept his offer. 

“Tenya, we literally just met a few hours ago.”

“Six, to be exact.” he corrected you, accompanied by a little shrug as to say ‘who cares?’

“And we are both sixteen.” You continued to rationalise but talking to Iida when he’s dead-set on something was like talking to a brick wall; a brick wall that provided logical arguments, the worst kind of wall.

“The average life expectancy in this kingdom is 35 years of age so if you think about, we’re basically half way through our lives already. Why not settle down?” 

Although, his statements were annoying as hell, the charming smile that decorated his face while he spoke was enough to convince that he was right. Despite the fact those statistics were clearly a sample from the lower class; royalty would obviously live to a much higher age. Plus, he was definitely correct about the special feeling between the two of you, like you have genuinely never felt more endeared by a person’s presence before, especially after they were just wishing hellfire upon you a few minutes ago. six, to be exact

As he sat there and exchanged a longing gaze with you, the voice in your head that wanted you to accept his proposal was getting larger and larger by the second, drowning out the voice that strictly wanted to put an end to his clownery and that voice sounded eerily like bakugo. You’re a woman of logic, and logic says you should accept. Because, if you say no, there’s no turning back and you’ll probably never get another opportunity like this again in your life. But if you say yes, you have two whole weeks to make up your mind as to whether you actually want to marry him or not, and if you don’t, you can always break up with him after he comes out of hiding. Additionally, you’ll be able to go back to the base and confer with the SOIR as to what you should do. Also, you were kinda in love with him, but logic disregards love.

Iida moved his hand from your knee to hold both of your hand in his own while his gaze filled with yearned remained locked onto your eyes, he’s truly never seen anyone more beautiful before. Despite the fact you make-up was ruined, tears were stained to your face and mascara was smeared under your eyes, you still looked ten times more divine than any queen he’s ever seen. 

“So, (y/n), what do you say?”

#bnha iida #iida x you #iida x y/n #bnha x reader #tenya fluff #mha tenya #tenya x y/n #my hero academia iida #bnha royalty au #iida royalty au #iida tenya #tenya x reader #tenya x you #iida imagine #tenya imagine #tenya iida

[captain-josslett]

Broken Melody - Part One

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten, Part Eleven,

Summary: Grammy Award winning Emma Danvers is the first to say she has a pretty good life. But what happens when it implodes around her and it looks like things will never be the same again?

Words: 10k+

Warnings: None... yet...

Pairings: Emma Danvers x Lena Luthor (Eventual)

Right! I wrote the beginning of this fic months ago. It’s going to get angsty so be ready. But the purpose of the first part is to introduce this version of B!D, a well known singer in a grammy award winning band. I honestly had a great time writing this first part!

Thank you for reading and let me know if you wanna be tagged or any general feedback will be greatly appreciated.

For @thewitchandtheassassin​, @natasha-danvers​, @life-is-hella-unfair​, @finleyfray​, @supergirl-writingz​,

The screeching of Emma Danver’s alarm makes her hazel green eyes shoot open. Normally on a Saturday she wouldn’t have her alarm set and would laze in bed. Especially when she is home from her latest world tour. However, today was going to be a day filled with the Superfriends, and she can’t wait!

Emma had mentioned at the latest game night that she wanted to check out a beach over an hour away from the city and how they could make a day of it. Kara, her Supergirl sister, instantly accepted the idea while bouncing up and down with excitement. Mostly everyone else agreed, happy to know the summer sun would be in full force that day.

Well they still had to persuade a few people, mainly Lena and Alex. But when Emma and Kara both knelt in front of the women with their identical Danvers pouts they were forcibly won over.

Emma smiles as she stretches and runs her hands through her wavy blonde hair. She quickly gets out of bed and opens her curtains. Sighing happily and just enjoying the sunshine blazing into her penthouse bedroom. Emma can totally see how Kara gets her Supergirl powers from the sun, how it recharges her and makes her the Woman of Steel.

After a few more minutes Emma turns and grabs her phone. While making her way to her ensuite she messages the group chat.

Emma: Gooooooodd Mmmoooorrrrnnnniiiinnnngggg!!! How’s everyone? Seriously can’t wait for today!

After having a quick shower Emma wanders back into her room and decides what to wear. She puts on her turquoise surf bikini with her tight black surfing shorts. She wears her blue jean shorts over the top, and a white tank top. She finishes her outfit off with her many bracelets, her apple watch and a layered necklace that has a star, sun and swan pendant. Symbolising each of the Danvers sisters. Alex is the star, Kara is the sun and Emma is the swan.

Swan became one of Emma’s nicknames in school due to there being a lot of Emma’s in the class. Her friends joked she was a swan princess due to doing ballet when she had asked them to come to a recital. Which they did and were in awe, but you know. Emma happily accepted the nickname, taking it as a compliment. Emma smiles as she looks at her ballet shoes strung over her mirror. ‘Another thing I need to get back into.’ Emma thinks wistfully. She still loves dancing, especially the latin styles like samba and tango. But she doesn’t have the time.

As she draws her attention to her reflection she definitely looks like a surfer chick, lean, toned and sun kissed. Which she was happily going for. She’s been dying to surf for ages but just hasn’t had the time. Her band had recently returned from a sell out world tour. And sadly most of the places they played at didn’t have beaches or the right surf. She felt sorry for her neglected surfboard in the back of the tour bus.

Her phone pings drawing her attention away from her musings. Emma laughs when she sees a few messages have already been sent.

Kara: Good morning sunshine! I’m sssoooooo excited too! Did you need me to bring anything else? I got all the food ready!

Kelly: Of course you’d have the food Kara!

Kelly: And good morning Emma! Shall I bring my swimsuit? Anyone going for a swim?

Kara: Ooo I am! And I think Emma is going to surf?

James: Why are you guys texting this early? I could have had at least another hour or more of sleep.

Alex: I agree with James… Emma, I hate you.

Emma chuckles at Alex’s message while she gets a bag ready with a change of clothes.

Emma: Love you too Alex!

Kara: Ahem… What about me?!

Emma: Love you too Kara!

Alex: You love me more though right?

Emma: No I love you both the same!

Kara: *Wink Wink*

Alex: Hey!

Nia: What am I just decoration?

Emma: No of course not Nia! I love you too!

James: What about me?

Kelly: And me!

Emma: Yes James and Kelly I love you both too.

Lena: Do you love me?

Emma pauses before she responds to Lena’s text. Honestly, she’s had a crush on her since the moment they met. But Lena is way out of Emma’s league. A CEO dating a musician and artist like Emma wouldn’t work. She’s not clever or brave like Kara or Alex.

Once when Lena had met her for lunch, Lena had explained what being a CEO entailed. Emma’s mind melted; it was so complex. Lena just laughed at her exasperated expression trying to figure it all out. “And that, my darling, is why you are an artist and I am a CEO.” Emma practically melted at Lena’s smile from across the table.

But that’s one of the things she loves about Lena, her passion for her work and drive for making the world a better place. And her smile. To Emma, Lena’s smile lights up the whole room.

Sighing Emma looks back down at her phone.

Emma: I love you the most… *Delete*

Emma: Yea I love you too. :)

‘Somewhat truthful…’ Emma thinks as she puts her phone in her pocket, grabbings her backpack, guitar case and placing it by the door. Kneeling on her sofa she pulls her surfboard up from behind, giving it a quick hug. Excitement surges through her veins at the thought of surfing the waves.

‘Rao I hope the waves are good today!’ Emma wishes as she swings the board around and accidentally knocks her recent Grammy on the floor. “Shoot!” Emma yelps and quickly drops her surfboard to pick up the award. Emma sighs in relief when she turns it over in her hands, seeing it wasn’t broken. Out of all her awards, this year's Grammy meant the most to her. The album had been a real breakthrough moment for her and the band, Axis, and they swept away the competition. Emma remembers the feeling of pride and honour when their name was called. How she and the rest of the band rushed to the stage in unison and linked arms as each said a thank you.

Emma carefully places the Grammy down and picks up her surfboard. Grabbing the rest of her stuff she locks the door behind her and takes the elevator down to her beloved yellow VW beetle. Which she affectionately calls the ‘bug’. Emma puts her stuff in the car and carefully straps the board onto the roof rack before getting into the driver's seat.

Taking her phone out she sends Lena and Kara a quick message to say she’s on her way to pick them up. Alex and Kelly are picking up Sam. Who did try and persuade Ruby to come but now as a teenager, Ruby has better things to do then hang out with her Mom and her Mom’s friends. James is giving J'onn, Nia and Brainy a ride.

Emma quickly plugs in her phone and chooses to blare out her playlist of her favourite songs. As she pulls out of the underground parking garage she starts singing and making dramatic hand movements as she dances along. Not caring if people see her.

Soon she’s outside Lena’s apartment building and as she turns the music down Lena Luthor herself was exiting the building. Emma’s mouth drops open with how beautiful Lena looks. And how different she looks too! Gone were the suits and smart wear of a CEO. Instead Lena was wearing a thigh length red patterned skirt that matched her red lips with a black crop top. To finish the look off she wore a black bowler hat.

When Lena opens the passenger door Emma quickly closes her mouth.

“Hi Em!” Lena smiles brightly at the blonde and leans over to place a kiss on Emma’s cheek. Making the blonde blush and causing her brain short circuits.

“Hi Lee!” Emma says more high pitched than normal.

Lena grins at her in amusement. ‘Rao I could get lost in those green eyes.’

“Er, Em… We gonna go?” Lena teases causing Emma to jump and pull away from the pavement. “So, how has your week been?”

“Fine. Got a commission to complete before Thursday but I’m almost done. I actually have to thank you, it's the lovely couple we met at the recent gala we went to.”

Whenever Emma is back in the city Lena always invites her to the gala’s. Surprisingly Emma finds she enjoys them, especially when it's one of Lena’s charity events. Lena and Emma are both thrilled to find Emma has a talent in being able to persuade the rich attendees to donate their money. Even from those who have never donated before. “It’s the Danvers charms!” Emma would laugh and wink at Lena when the raven haired women would be dumbfounded at the cheque in her hand from a rival.

“Mr and Mrs Green?” Lena asks, remembering how the couple were enthralled with Emma’s work as an artist and musician. Their donation had been one of the biggest of that night. ‘No surprise there.’ Lena smirks.

“Yea them.” Emma nods while concentrating on driving. She does love the city life but driving through it can be such a pain.

“What did they ask for?” Lena inquires while picking at a loose thread in her skirt.

“Mainly a seascape of a view they had back in the UK. Thatchers rock… I think.” To be honest Emma had been surprised by the Green’s enthusiasm when she showed them her portfolio. How they were willing to wait for Emma’s tour to finish before getting their commission. It had been made easier that there was a reference to work on. Even though she has never been to that part of the UK. Mainly the cities dotting around the island. And even though Emma doesn’t need the money she enjoys doing something different. Her art gives her another escape.

“What style are you doing it in?” Lena asks as she bobs her head along with Emma to the music. Something she’s never done before until getting rides with Emma. Something about the blonde’s carefree attitude rubbing off on her.

“I’m using oil this time. I think it works better with the layering and it can really make the sea look like it’s moving you know? Well… If I get it right.” Emma realises she started to ramble and quickly cuts herself off. Certain Lena wouldn’t want to hear the techniques Emma has been using. “If all goes to plan the painting should look different with the different lighting of the day.”

“I am sure you will darling.” Lena smiles widely at her.

Emma smiles back. Feeling butterflies zoom round her stomach at the term of endearment.

“Thanks Lee.” Emma taps her thumbs to the beat while they wait for a light to turn green.

“How-”

“How’d-”

They both stop when they realise they both started talking.

“You go.” Emma motions Lena to continue.

“How’s everything going with the band?”

“It’s going really, really well! We are already writing songs for the next album. But we’ve also really benefited having this time off too.” Emma grins thinking of the other band members. 

In some ways they’ve become another little family to her. The four other guys were already formed and were looking for a female influence. Emma saw the flyer and thought ‘why not!’ before calling them and doing an audition. The guys were blown away by her voice and talent. Unanimously they agreed she can become a member of the band and ultimately making her the lead singer. That was over eight years ago when Emma was eighteen and Axis were well known in certain areas of America but when Emma joined their popularity skyrocketed. 

However fame didn’t matter to Emma, but she loves performing and writing music. Especially when she gets fan messages about how her songs have helped someone get through a difficult time and gave them hope. She always makes sure to save those messages.

“Sounds exciting.” Lena agrees, nodding her head.

“Speaking of deals.” Emma pauses to concentrate on the traffic. “How’d the deal with the Japanese go?”

Even though Emma wasn’t looking at Lena she could feel the big eye roll the raven haired beauty did.

“That good huh?” Emma jokes but feels for the CEO.

“Honestly it was a nightmare. They kept going around in circles and I’m just getting over the migraine!” Lena dramatically rubs her forehead. Which Emma misses from looking at the road.

“Ah no.” Emma frowns as she quickly looks at Lena. “Are you sure you’re okay to come to the beach?”

“Yes I’m fine.” Lena smirks at Emma’s concern.

“Okay, I am glad you’re coming.” Emma smiles brightly back.

Lena raises an eyebrow. “Did I have a choice?” Lena teases.

“Yes! But it would have made me very sad if you hadn’t.” Emma pouts dramatically and pulls off her best puppy dog eyes.

“And that’s why I said yes.” Lena chuckles at how adorable Emma looks.

Soon they pull up to Kara’s building and she’s already waiting outside. Piles of bags by her feet. Both Lena and Emma laugh at the sight. “Joys of being Supergirl I guess!” Emma jokes about Kara’s metabolism.

As she parks Emma can’t help but remember the day Kara became a part of the Danvers family.

Emma had taken to the alien quicker then Alex, especially as there was only a year age difference between the two blondes. She also found she became the bridge between Alex and Kara. Over time the three learned how to live with the new dynamic and would soon enjoy each other's company. Kara and Alex would laugh when little Emma would cheerfully yell that they were the three musketeers as they played with wooden swords or practically any activity that involved the three of them. Even making hot chocolate together.

When Kara became Supergirl Emma almost had a fit. She’d been in New York for a sold out week of gigs when she had seen the news in the early hours of the morning. Frantically she called Kara to see if she was okay and getting even more frantic when she realised Alex had been on the plane too. The two sisters were eventually able to calm her down after a lot of sobbing and panic from her end. When Emma returned to National City she held onto her sisters a lot tighter that day. Eventually the three ended up falling asleep together on the sofa. Emma in the middle of the two as they wrapped their arms around each other.

Emma’s musings were interrupted when Kara slammed the car boot down hard. Causing the car to bounce.

“Careful Kara!” Emma yells, knowing full well her sister would hear her.

“Sorry little one! I’m just so excited!” Kara squeals as she opens the backseat door before leaping in.

“Hey I’m only a year younger than you!” Emma frowns into the rear view mirror to glare at her sister. Who just sticks her tongue back at her while clicking in her seat belt.

They continue the hour long drive to the beach, chatting and singing along to Emma’s playlist. Lena watches on in amazement as Kara sings the melody and Emma does some beautiful harmonies around her. They all laugh and cheer when Queen’s ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ comes on.

“Come on Lena! Join in!” Emma yells while she puts the volume right up. So Lena does. When the rock part of the song comes on all three of them dance and headbang along. Lena laughs as she feels so carefree. She pauses when Emma starts singing passionately to the next verse.

So you think you can stop me and spit in my eye So you think you can love me and leave me to die Oh, baby, can’t do this to me, baby Just gotta get out, just gotta get right outta here

Honestly she could listen to Emma’s voice for hours. Which is probably why she secretly went to as many of Emma’s gigs as possible. But every time she would go to reveal herself to Emma she would back peddle and leave. Knowing that someone as talented as Emma was way out of her league. Her pride for her friend as she watched with the Superfriends at Kara’s apartment as Axis won Grammy after Grammy, award after award. How they screamed with joy and hugged each other after each announcement. Plus Lena thought someone as pure and happy as Emma wouldn’t do well with someone broken like Lena. So she keeps her feelings to herself and tries to be content with being Emma’s friend.

Lena’s heart warms as she remembers meeting Emma for the first time over 3 years ago. She had been at one of her first game nights with the Superfriends when a knock sounded on Kara’s door. Everyone had looked at each other in surprise as no one was missing. Lena watched Kara bounce towards the door and as she opened it a continuous scream of surprise and happiness escaped Kara’s mouth. This caused Alex to rush over in response and suddenly scream as well. The two sisters practically tackled the blonde beauty out into the hallway where they fell into a laughing heap. Kara kissed the blonde’s head over and over while Alex held onto her like a koala bear and kissed her cheek over and over.

Finally they untangled and Kara dragged the other blonde into her apartment. Excitedly introducing everyone to her little sister, Emma. The Superfriends each individually greeted the newcomer and when it came to Lena’s turn Emma had stepped forward and gave her an affectionate hug. Laughing that Kara has told Emma so much about her that she feels she already knows Lena well. When Emma stepped away from the hug they both ignored the warm feelings racing around their bodies. Lena had to agree as both the Danvers sister’s spoke of Emma fondly and how proud they were of Emma’s success. Lena hadn’t told anyone this but she bought all of Emma's music to listen to it after Kara gushed about her sister. She instantly fell in love with the voice coming through the speakers.

Kara soon asked why Emma was in National City and Emma excitedly revealed that Axis was moving to National City. Lena again ignored the feeling of excitement that shot through her. And again Emma was tackled to the floor as both Alex and Kara leapt towards her in celebration.

“Lena?” Kara’s voice breaks through her thinking and Lena turns to look back at her best friend. Listening intently as Kara excitedly explains a new prototype Brainy is designing to help Kara not be so affected by Kryptonite.

“Maybe I can help with it?” Lena offers kindly.

Kara’s smile brightens up even more. “That would be swell!”

Lena gives Kara a small smile before turning back to the front. To be honest it still stings that Kara didn’t tell her Supergirl secret to the CEO. It had been two years after Emma had moved back to National City when Lena and Kara were having lunch but Kara was being called away. Again. Lena couldn’t stop herself and blurted out she knew Kara’s secret. She will never forget how Kara’s face fell and the promise of talking about it after she’s finished. Lena’s face grew cold as her walls shot up. She told Kara not to bother and stormed out of the restaurant to her penthouse apartment. She refused to see anyone or answer her phone. Allowing her past hurts and hatred to simmer and boil.

That was until a knock sounded on her door. She chose to ignore it but the knocking persisted.

“Come on Lena, please open the door. Let’s talk about this.” Emma’s muffled voice sounded through the door.

“Why should I?” Lena spits out as she draws closer, crossing her arms tightly over her chest.

“Because you shouldn’t be alone right now.”

Lena scoffs. “And why not?”

“Because you’ll allow your demons to lie to you and it will eat you up.” Emma had experience with this herself.

Tears fill Lena’s eyes and against the screaming in her head she reaches out and opens the door.

“Hey you.” Emma gives Lena a small smile before stepping into the apartment. Placing the takeout bags on the floor and pulling Lena into a tight hug. Allowing Lena to break down as she sobs into Emma’s shoulder. All her past hurts rushing forward and spewing out.

After she was spent Emma gently led her to the sofa and reheated the food. Making sure Lena ate. They talked long into the night and when Lena started rubbing her eyes from exhaustion Emma helped her get ready for bed. As Lena slid between the sheets Emma leaned down to give her a goodnight hug. But stopped when Lena wouldn't let her go. “Stay.” Lena whispered. So Emma grabbed a pair of her spare clothes she left for times like this and got in next to her. Lena shifted over to her and rested her head on Emma’s shoulder. Emma wrapped her arms around Lena and held her close. They don’t say anything more but drift into a peaceful sleep.

“We’re here!” Emma sings out, causing Lena to jump slightly. They pull into a car park right next to the beach.

“Oh wow!! Look at the sea! It’s so beautiful!” Kara gasps as she presses herself against the window and like an excited child she unbuckles and races towards the beach. Having already spotted Alex, Kelly and Sam setting up.

Emma snorts at her sister’s behaviour while she unbuckles her seatbelt.

“Er… She will help us with the food? Right?” Lena looks back at the overflow of food bags in the back of the bug.

“Yea as soon as she realises she will shoot back up here.” Emma chuckles while getting out of the car. And Kara did just that as Emma went to pay for a parking ticket she watched Kara race back up to them, in human speed. “Glad to see you helping.” Emma raises an eyebrow at her sister as Kara reaches the bug.

“Sorry! I just got really excited! It’s so beautiful here!” Kara bounces like a puppy.

“Now you understand why I dragged you here instead of going to the beach at NC?” Emma says while carefully unstrapping her board before lowering it and leaning it up against the bug.

“Yes, yes.” Kara keeps her eyes on the beach.

“Hey.” Emma smirks at her distracted sister.

“Yea?” Kara tears her eyes away to look at Emma. Smiling when Emma opens are arms and they hug. “Haven’t been able to give you one yet.” Emma says in her ear. Kara buries her face into Emma’s neck, enjoying the warmth and feeling of home whenever she hugs her sisters.

The car door closing makes them break apart. “Okay I think that’s everything.” Lena says while looking at the small mountain of bags.

“Thanks Lena!” Kara sings as she grabs half of the bags before Emma can tell her to only take a few. Hopefully no one will question how a slim woman can carry that much weight. Lena catches Emma’s eye and they both roll their eyes at each other.

“Jink!” Emma yells causing Lena to do another eye roll. Before Emma can reach down for her stuff Lena steps forward.

“Can I have a hug too?”

“Sure you can Lee.” Emma opens her arms wide and Lena almost tackles her with her enthusiasm. They both sigh happily as they hold onto each other a bit longer than necessary. Emma breaks the hug and steps back, grabbing her backpack, placing a few food bags on her shoulders picking up her guitar, and securing her surfboard under her arm. “Oh Lee don’t take that many, Kara will come up and get the last few.”

“Okay.” Lena nods while swinging a food bag on each of her shoulders and they start walking towards the beach. “Kara is right though, it’s really beautiful here.”

Emma smiles at her, happy Lena approves. The sand was a beautiful white which made the sea clear and looked like a gorgeous turquoise and teal. The richness of the colours makes Emma want to weep with happiness. They could pretend like they were in the Caribbean or on the Hawaiian islands.

“Hey Peanut!” Alex yells as Emma approaches her.

Peanut has always been Alex’s nickname for Emma since their parents told three year old Alex she was going to be a big sister. Alex had been fascinated about it all and when her Mom had told her the baby was the size of a peanut the name stuck. Even when Emma grew and was the size of tennis ball Alex would still refer to the baby as Peanut.

“Hey sis!” Emma yells back, dumping her stuff on one of the picnic blankets. Alex comes over and pulls Emma into a tight hug, quickly followed by Kelly and Sam. “Been a long time Sam, how are you?”

“I know I’m sorry!” Sam says as she takes a step back. “Life’s been hectic!”

“Oh don’t I know it.” Emma laughs. “Maybe you can ask your boss to allow you to have a life?” Emma teases while giving Lena a pointed look.

“Not my problem she wants to work longer hours then she is contracted!” Lena places her hands on her hips.

“Maybe she’s following her boss's example? And maybe the boss needs to cut down too? Maybe relax a bit?” Emma stalks towards her crush.

“Maybe-” Lena stops what she was going to say and tilts her head as she watches Emma approach. A smirk on her face. “What are you doing?”

Suddenly Emma reaches out and starts tickling Lena who laughs loudly and tries to swat the blonde away.

“Lena! She’s ticklish too!” Alex snickers as she goes through the food bags.

“Traitor!” Emma yells as Lena starts her own assault. The two women fall to the sand in fits of giggles as they wrestle. Before Emma can gain the upper hand Lena straddles her and continues tickling her. “No! Lena!” Emma kicks out trying to shift the woman on top of her. But Lena was not budging. “Argh! I surrender! Please!” Emma wheezes.

“I win?" Lena stops and gazes down at Emma triumphantly.

“You win.” Emma coughs and when Lena moves off her she instantly misses the feeling of Lena’s weight on top of her.

“Are you ladies done or are you going to help?” Alex raises her eyebrow at them as they catch their breath.

“Yes ma'am.” Emma salutes before getting up, rubbing the sand off herself and reaching out to help Lena up. They smirk at each other and set to work getting the rest of the blankets and chairs out for the Superfriends.

Soon the other group arrives and they all sit chatting and relaxing. The men start setting the BBQ up, insisting they can do it, much to the amusement of the women as they try to do it without looking at the instructions.

Alex, Kara and Emma smile at each other as they share a look before giggling. The Danvers sisters have barbecuing in the great outdoors down to an art. But if it keeps the men happy they stay quiet. Sighing Emma turns away from the entertainment and looks out to sea, watching the waves and the surfers riding them.

Alex shuffles up to her, resting her head on Emma’s shoulder. “You can go if you want.”

Emma rests the side of her head on her sister’s. “I know, but the waves aren’t quite right yet.”

“Okay.” Alex wraps her arms around Emma, who returns the gesture and holds onto Alex. Emma moves her head and kisses Alex’s head before resting her own on Alex’s again.

Alex smiles and kisses Emma’s hand that's holding her close. At first Alex wasn’t too keen on the idea of coming to the beach, too much work to do at the DEO and an hour travelling seems like an eternity. But Alex is glad she came. They sit content.

“How can you tell if the waves are not right?” Brainy asks, having left J'onn and James to sort out the BBQ.

Emma looks up at him. “I don’t know, you just can. It’s a feeling.” Emma runs a hand through her hair trying to think of a better way to explain it. “Like when you are out there you know a big wave is coming, the wave. You just got to be patient and take the moment when it comes.”

Brainy tilts his head at her. “I think I understand.”

“Well I’m glad you did.” Alex snorts and yelps when Emma playfully slaps her bare arm.

“Oh come on I didn’t slap you that hard!” Emma laughs but rubs her sister’s arm.

“Anyone wanna play rounders?” Lena asks the group as she picks up one of her bags. She pulls out a rounders bat, which is shorter than a baseball bat, and ball.

“Rounders?” Kara asks, confused. “Don’t you mean baseball?”

“No, I mean rounders, it’s what we played at my boarding school. It’s the game that baseball came from. The first known account of it was in 1744 with the Tudors.” Half of the group look at Lena blankly, while the other half look interested and know who the Tudors are. “Basically you still have four bases, home runs etc. The bowler must do underarm, though we can do overarm…” Lena pauses. “It’s just different okay?”

“Sounds good to me!” Sam leaps to her feet and starts setting the four bases up. Everyone else follows suit and splits into teams, Lena and Sam being the captains of each team. On Lena’s team is Kara, James, Alex and Emma versus Sam’s team which has Kelly, J'onn, Brainy and Nia.

After a coin toss Lena’s team bats first with Sam being the bowler, or pitcher, as Alex yells out.

“And can we make a rule of no powers? We don’t want the ball getting batted into space!” Sam jokes as she jogs to bowler base.

“Sounds fair.” Kara says looking at J'onn who nods in agreement. She gets into position to bat. She hits the ball no problem and starts to run, but she hits the ball too high and Brainy is already waiting to catch it.

“Out!” Sam yells as Brainy holds the ball in his hand, causing Kara to skid to a halt. She turns and walks back to the team, kicking the sand as she goes.

“Hard luck sis.” Alex rubs Kara’s back when she comes back to the line up. Pouting all the way. Emma gives her a hug and kisses her cheek.

“You’ll do it next time.” Emma reassures her.

They watch James get into position and hit quite a good ball. He manages to get to third base before having to stop when Nia catches the ball while on 4th base.

Lena is the next to go and Emma can’t help but watch as she sways her hips getting ready to strike. Her ball goes low and far. She sprints off and her team screams and cheers when she manages to do a home run.

“Nicely done Lee!” Emma holds her hand out to high five the out of breath CEO.

“Thanks.” Lena smiles brightly at the blonde while holding onto her hand longer than necessary.

Alex is up next, feeling the pressure of going after Lena’s home run.

“You got this babe!” Kelly smiles from the 2nd base. Alex smiles back at her before readying herself. She misses the first ball.

“Strike 1!”

Huffing Alex gets back into position again. And misses.

“Strike two!”

“You got this Al!” Emma claps and encourages her sister.

Taking a deep breath Alex readies herself and watches the ball. She manages to hit it and sprints to 2nd base.

“Nice to see you Alex!” Kelly teases the red head causing Alex to gently shove her girlfriend.

“Right you’re up Emma!” Sam calls as she catches the ball.

Emma picks the bat up, wiping the sand off it and stands in position. Noticing the opponents are standing mainly to the left, Emma decides to trick them. When Sam throws the ball she quickly turns her body and whacks the ball to the right side of the field far away from the group. She runs half the way and seeing Brainy is still running to the ball she walks the rest of the way, dancing and blowing kisses. She starts sprinting the last few feet as the ball is being thrown towards Nia. The team celebrates her home run and they play a few more rounds, having a few collisions and lots of laughter. They have two more goes each and swap over. Lena takes over as the bowler. “Pitcher!” Alex yells as she runs to man 2nd base.

The new batting team does just as well and Sam’s team are one point behind. J’onn is up as the last batter, it’s all on him. If he gets a home run Sam’s team has won the game. Emma watches the ball carefully as Lena throws it and in a split second it's coming right at her. She reaches out her hand and catches it. Everyone stares dumbfoundead before yelling in surprise and either excitement from winning or groans for losing.

Emma’s team crowd her and she laughs at the attention.

“Emma?” A voice says behind her.

Emma’s head shoots round and she smiles when she sees her bandmates standing there.

“Guys?” She rushes towards them. Emma had told them of her plans and had invited them to join. They had said they were busy so it's a huge surprise to Emma that they stood in front of her. “What are you doing here?”

“We are… Wanted to talk to you.” Jack, the guitarist and other singer, says before he looks at the Superfriends behind Emma, watching them intently. “Alone.”

“Sure.” Emma shrugs, she turns back to Lena and throws her the ball. Emma walks with her bandmates along the beach until they are far enough away. Though Emma is sure Kara can still hear them. “So, whats up? Everything okay?”

“Er… So about that-” Danny, the drummer, starts but rubs his neck. Feeling very awkward. Frankie, the keyboardist, doesn’t make eye contact with Emma and shuffles his feet in the sand.

Mick interrupts. “We want to leave the band.”

Emma’s mind screeches to a halt. “Leave? All of you?”

“Yea Em. Just with Jack getting engaged, Frankie’s Dad being ill and Danny’s baby is due. We just don’t have the same drive like you do.” Mick looks sadly at her. “We are a great team, but it’s just not the same. After moving to National City we realised we want to settle, have families, the whole white picket fence thing.”

Emma places her hands on her hips, biting her lips to stop the tears threatening to fall. “What about the new album? We’ve already written most of the songs.”

“You don’t need us Em. You are the front runner and can do this with anyone.” Jack tries to reassure her.

“But they won’t be you.” Emma’s heart starts to break when she looks at the finality in each of their eyes. “And… And nothing I can say will change your minds?”

Her four bandmates shake their heads.

“Okay.” Emma looks up at the sky, taking a deep breath before looking back at the men in front of her. “Well, can we do a farewell tour?”

“Sounds like a good plan.” Danny smiles sadly at her and the other three nod.

“Can we give you a hug?” Jack asks quietly, hating seeing Emma so defeated.

Emma nods and they go in for a long group hug. But as the tears start to spill Emma breaks the hug and rushes back to the Superfriends. Ignoring any questions, she throws off her clothes and jewellery and grabs her board. Sprinting to the surf and diving into the sea.

She paddles quickly, still hearing voices, most likely Kara and Alex, calling after her. But she drowns it out by duck diving under a wave as it rolls over her and she resurfaces. Emma continues further out past the swell where she can stop and just lie there. Letting the board bob as she gazes at the horizon. Emma allows her tears to fall. Her face distorts with her disappointment and hurt.

‘What am I going to do?’ Emma thinks. She gets why the guys want to leave. Knowing this would happen one day. Or at least a break, but it still hurts. ‘Since when did it change for them?’ Emma stays like this for a while, lost in her own thoughts.

Some time later splashing behind her makes her turn her head and she sits up. A wet laugh breaks through her lips when she sees Kara and Alex balancing on a paddle board trying to reach her. Alex particularly looks like how a cat would look in this situation. On her knees and very tense having come to a very deep part of the beach. Alex doesn’t like not being able to touch the bottom, or see it. Kara is using the paddle, obviously using a bit of her super strength with how quickly they are going.

“What you laughing at?” Alex snaps.

“Nothing.” Emma smiles sadly at her while wiping the tears from her face. She swings her legs around and places them either side of the board. When the paddle board comes alongside Emma’s, Kara moves to sit down. Causing Alex to shriek as the board rocks dangerously. Emma reaches out and steadies it while trying not to laugh.

“Sorry Alex!” Kara apologises before turning her attention to Emma. “You okay?”

Immediately Emma’s smile drops and her eyes fill with tears again. She furiously rubs her eyes to stop them. “Yea fine.”

“No you’re not.” Alex sighs, hating seeing her sister look so unhappy.

“Guessing you heard?” Emma looks at Kara who nods sadly. Crinkle on her forehead evident of her concern. Emma looks down at her hands, not able to look at her sisters anymore. “I just… I get why…” Emma exhales deeply. “It just hurts you know. We are so in sync with each other and I honestly can’t imagine having to restart all that again.”

“But you will.” Alex reaches out and touches Emma’s linked hands. “Because your voice, your music needs to be heard Em.”

“Yea it's one of my favourite sounds, like ever.” Kara agrees. “But you know you will always have us, right?”

Emma nods, allowing a few more tears to fall.

Alex reaches out and wipes the tears from Emma’s cheeks. “And yes it sucks right in this moment but you will get through this. We will both help you through this.”

“Totally.” Kara agrees.

“Thanks.” Somehow Alex manages to hug Emma without falling in and Kara joins them.

Right on queue Kara’s stomach rumbles. “Oh and lunch is ready.”

“Uh oh the monsters coming.” Emma smirks as she looks at her alien sister.

“Race ya?!” Kara jumps to her feet making the board rock dangerously and had Emma not been holding Alex the red head would have fallen in. After making sure her sisters were okay Emma waves them off.

“Nah, you go on ahead, I’ll be right behind you.”

Emma watches her sisters go, hoping Kara has enough control not to cause Alex to fall in too far from the beach. She keeps her eyes fixed on them, slowly following in case Alex needed her. But when they reach the shore Emma lets out the breath she didn’t realise she was holding. Emma chuckles when Kara returns the paddle board they borrowed to get to her.

Shaking her head Emma starts slowly paddling into the swell and waits, her board moving with the ocean. Suddenly she feels a shift. Emma lies on her stomach and starts paddling hard. She smiles as her board gets picked up by the huge wave. Whooping as her board flies through the tube, she reaches out and skims her hand along the break. She comes out the other end and using the momentum turns her board, shooting her closer to the beach. Until finally her board slows down and she jumps off, wading the short distance to the shore.

“Hey!” A surfer approaches her, smiling flirtatiously. His brunette hair slicked back from the sea.

“Hi.” Emma responds while picking up her board.

“That was a sweet wave you just did!” His enthusiasm makes Emma smile.

“Thanks, kind of wish it went on forever.” She admits, cause really there was nothing like going through the tube of a wave. The colours and sounds were breathtaking.

“Ah man I know right?!” He laughs. “So, I was wondering if I could have your number?”

“EMMA!” She turns to look at Kara who is waving her arms about wildly. Most likely due to Alex saying she can’t eat until Emma joins them.

“Thank you but I’m kind of not available. Sorry.”

“No worries at all.” He looks slightly disappointed but still smiles.

“EMMAAAAAA!!!”

Emma laughs at how Kara’s yells got even louder. “Well I better go, don’t want my sister getting any more hangry.” Emma starts to walk back to the group.

“It was a pleasure meeting you, Emma.” He calls after her.

Emma swings round but continues walking backwards. “You too.” She turns back around, smiling and shaking her head.

As soon as Emma gets near, Kara is loading her plate up at top, human, speed. Emma chuckles at the sight and digs the end of her board into the sand before taking the leash off and flopping onto the picnic blanket.

“Who was that?” Kelly asked across from her. Lena pretends she isn’t listening in as she gets some food.

“Oh just some guy congratulating me on my sweet wave.” Emma imitates the guy's accent which makes them laugh.

“And he wanted her number!” Kara teases while she sits next to Emma.

Whistles and ooo’s sound around the group. Alex watches bemused as Lena purses her lips before going back to a neutral expression.

“So where’s the number?” Sam asks excitedly, not missing Lena’s rigid posture.

“Meh, not my type.” Emma tries to play it off cooly while she grabs her top and shorts to change into again. Not minding that they will get a bit damp as the sun is out in full blaze. She also applies her suncream handing it around and reminding everyone to keep it topped up.

“Since when has hunky surfer boy not been your type?” Kara asks confused as she focuses on the surfer. “Honestly I could grate cheese on his abs!”

“Kara!” Emma laughs loudly while she dishes up a plate of food.

“You also said you weren’t available,” Kara presses on, missing the looks Alex was giving her. “Who's the lucky guy or gal?” Emma had come out as bisexual when she was a young teenager. Her Mom and sister’s supported her and Emma was glad she could do the same for Alex when she came out to her. Alex had even flown out specially to where Emma was gigging to tell her. At first Emma was really worried when Alex avoided eye contact and was nervously fidgeting in her seat. When Alex finally blurted it out Emma held her sister close. Saying how proud she was of her and her love for her sister hadn’t changed.

“No one, I just wanted to get him off my back.” Emma says nonchalantly but inside she was freaking out. She’d said it because yes she wasn’t available because her heart belonged to Lena.

Kelly gives Alex a look and watches as Emma settles in-between Lena and Kara under the umbrella they were sitting under. Alex doesn’t miss how much closer Emma sits to Lena than her sister.

The Superfriends continue talking and when everyone has finished eating they split off to do their own thing. Alex and Kelly go for a walk, mainly to come up with a plan to get Emma and Lena together. While Kara, J'onn, Sam, Nia, Brainy and James play volleyball. Girls and against boys. “Original.” Emma mutters causing Lena to snort.

Lena and Emma opt to stay with everyones stuff. Lena is happy to sit back against the pile and read a book she’s been wanting to read for months but never had the chance.

Emma sighs as she looks at her guitar case. Twiddling her thumbs for a moment she draws her knees to her chest and watches the waves. But not feeling quite ready to get back in.

After half an hour Lena puts her book down and focuses on Emma. “Something on your mind?” Lena asks, nudging her shoulder into Emma, causing the blonde to sway.

“Guessing Kara told you?” Emma keeps her eyes fixed in front of her.

“Yes, she was relaying what was being said.” Lena says apologetically.

“It’s okay. Makes it easier in a way.” Sighing heavily Emma turns to look at Lena. Who is watching her with concern. “I just don’t know what to do. I need to look for new bandmates, but that just seems so daunting. Can I really go through that all again?” Emma runs her hands through her hair. Huffing she looks back into emerald eyes. “Okay if we don’t talk about it? Just enjoy what we have right now?”

“And what do we have?”

“Great company, good food and a wonderful view.” Emma motions to the beach around them.

“Yea, I can do that.” Lena keeps her eyes on Emma.

“Go back to your book Lee. I’ll be fine.” Emma tries to smile reassuringly.

Lena doesn’t buy it but starts reading again. She watches Emma from the corner of her eye as she shuffles over to her guitar case, opening it and pulling the guitar out, making sure it is in tune.

Emma gets her songbook out of her case, opening the page to a song she had started writing. Making sure she doesn’t hit Lena with her guitar Emma settles back down. Grabbing her phone she hits record and starts plucking. Softly singing to herself.

Tell me somethin', girl Are you happy in this modern world? Or do you need more? Is there somethin' else you're searchin' for?

Emma pauses as she remembers a chorus of a song she’s been working on. She quickly flips to that page and moves her fingers to find the chords. She continues to play. Not realising her soft singing has steadily got louder.

I'm falling

Emma sees Lena in her mind as she sings. Her pain at falling for her friend and not having the courage to take it deeper.

In all the good times I find myself Longin' for change And in the bad times I fear myself

Sighing Emma looks at the sea before turning her head slightly to look at the raven haired beauty. Whose focus is on the book in front of her. Returning her attention to her notebook Emma keeps playing and singing.

I'm off the deep end, watch as I dive in I'll never meet the ground Crash through the surface, where they can't hurt us We're far from the shallow now

Lifting her head she focuses on the sea again.

In the shallow, shallow

In the shallow, shallow In the shallow, shallow We're far from the shallow now.

Emma pauses and stops the recording. Running a hand through her hair which starts getting more wavy from getting wet.

“Wow Em.” Lena breathes out.

Emma turns to Lena who put the book next to her. “You like that?”

“Yes, seriously… I don’t have the words.”

“Thanks, it’s not really finished. It needs another verse…” Emma goes through her notebook but comes up empty. Replaying the first verse Emma closes her eyes to figure out the words for the second verse.

Tell me something, boy

“What rhymes with boy?” Emma mutters to herself. “Toy? No… Void?”

Aren't you tired tryin' to fill that void?

Emma sighs as she remembers friends she has lost due to depression and addiction. Knowing how hard it is to feel whole and get out of the pit.

Or do you need more? Ain't it hard keeping it so hardcore?

She sings through the bridge and the chorus again, making sure it all fits. But to her horror she realises she stopped the recording.

“Crap!” Looking down her phone wasn’t where she left it. Instead it's in Lena’s hand.

“I could see you didn’t press record so I did it for you.” Lena answers Emma’s questioning gaze as she presses the button to stop the recording.

“Thanks Lee.” Emma takes her phone and grabs her pen, listening to the recording and writing the song out in full with the chords.

Lena watches Emma. “Do you usually write songs that quickly?” Lena asks, fascinated.

Emma laughs in response. “No, not usually. I guess I was more inspired.” She shrugs, placing her guitar back in the case with her notebook. She shuffles back over to Lena. “Can I?”

Lena looks up and nods, letting Emma lean down, resting her head in Lena’s lap. They do this quite often and it always makes Lena’s heart skip a beat. Slowly she puts her book down beside her and runs a hand through Emma’s hair. Looking at the view and doing what Emma said, enjoying the moment.

Time passes on and Emma watches the group playing volleyball. Kelly and Alex have joined them, Kelly staying with the girls while Alex went over to the boys side. Emma smirks when Kara would not so sneakily use her powers to gain an advantage.

But Emma’s attention diverted back to the sea, the tide was coming in and the swell had gotten bigger. Turning her head to look up at Lena Emma pauses. Her eyes linger on Lena’s chest before taking in her profile. ‘Rao she’s so beautiful.’

“Okay if I catch a few more waves?” Emma asks, finding her voice.

Looking down Lena smiles. “Sure.”

“Thanks Lee.” Emma sits up and presses a kiss to Lena’s cheek. As Emma takes her clothes off she grabs her board and runs to the surf. Lena touches her flushed cheek and smiles softly.

Soon the volleyball group end their game, the boys team winning by a few points. They head back to their set up, laughing at how both J'onn and Kara leapt for the ball, only to miss it completely.

“Hi Lena!” Kara says while sitting next to her best friend. “How's the book?”

“It’s…” Lena looks down at the book and realises she’s only got through part of the first chapter. Her attention had mainly been watching Emma surf. “Slow.”

“Ah I hate it when that happens!” Kara hands Lena a drink while they sit and watch Emma. Who had just gone through another tube, much to the excitement of the surfers watching in the shallows. “I don’t know how she makes it look so easy!”

“It’s one of her many talents.” Lena agrees, though there is always a feeling of anxiety whenever anyone she cares for is in any body of water.

“Totally.” Kara says before sighing sadly.

“Kara?” Lena asks concerned for the Super.

“I just… She’s worked so hard. I know she will come back from this, but when Alex and I got to her she… She just looked so broken.” Kara sighs again. Worry filling her eyes as she watches her sister.

“She didn’t want to talk about it. But said how daunting it is to find new bandmates. Which I can understand.” Lena knows how hard it is to make friends in general.

“Yea it’s not the easiest of processes. She needs to click with them, for them to become in sync with each other and then get on with them. How they managed to drive around in that tour bus all over America and later the world is beyond me!” Kara says with wide eyes, she had joined Emma for a few gigs and thankfully the venues weren’t too far from each other. But Kara found the journey long and boring.

“Kara, anything slower then you flying is beyond you!” Lena's teasing causes Kara to laugh loudly.

“True!”

They continue watching Emma who attempts a few aerial tricks. The spray of the sea flying high above her. “She wrote a really beautiful song just now.”

“Really?” Kara perks up and Lena nods. “Think she’ll play it for us?”

“Maybe.” Lena hopes Emma does. She really wants to hear it again.

While Emma still surfs the Superfriends play UNO. Laughing at how competitive Alex is getting and only getting calmed down when Kelly gives her a gentle kiss. 

As the sun starts to slowly descend Emma finally gets out of the sea. Waving goodbye to a group of surfers she had been talking to.

She notices a fire has been built in the centre of the Superfriends circle and a few of them are roasting marshmallows.

Emma’s body is completely shattered but she smiles at the feeling. Making a note to come back here as much as she can. Even if the weather isn’t perfect like today.

The Superfriends greet her while she grabs her stuff to change. Alex stands and uses one of the blankets to block anyone’s view of Emma. Kara joins in and goes to the other side. Emma scoffs knowing full well she can change without showing anything and there has been no paparazzi bothering her.

Finally dry and feeling much warmer Emma sits next to Lena and places her head on her shoulder. She can’t help but yawn and let her eyes drift.

“Tired Em?” Alex teases from across the circle and smiles at Lena whose cheeks are tinged with red.

“Uhmm.” Emma confirms. “Do we have any more food?” She asks, keeping her eyes closed. “Or has Kara eaten it all?”

“Hey!” Kara swats Emma playfully but causes Emma to jump and glare at her. “Sorry! Did I hurt you?” Kara asks, panicked.

“No, I was just surprised.” Emma sighs before resting her head back on Lena’s shoulder.

“Well I did see a pizza place as we drove in. Maybe we can order?” Nia asks.

“Sounds like a good plan to me!” Emma gives a thumbs up. Pizza is one of her favourite foods.

With the joys of technology the friends order and half an hour later a pizza boy with a mountainful of pizza boxes comes towards them. They thank him and dig in. Emma grabs Lena and her pizza, two cans of soda and some salad left over from lunch.

“M’lady.” Emma holds out the cans which Lena takes. “I got some salad too.” Emma places the container in front of Lena.

“Thank you Em.” Lena says touched that Emma thought about her. She opens the lid and wonders how she can eat it. Looking up she sees Emma holding out a knife and fork for her and she smiles.

“You may need this.”

Lena grins back thanking her and takes the cutlery from the blonde.

Emma happily munches away at the pizza, rolling her eyes when the debate about Hawaiian pizza is brought up.

“Personally I don’t see anything wrong with it.” Sam defends laughing at Brainy’s stunned face.

“But to have a fruit on a savoury dish… it just does not compute.”

“Brainy.” Emma gets the alien’s attention. “Have you actually tried it?”

“No I have not.” He looks appalled that Emma would ask that.

“Then how’d you know if it doesn’t work?” Emma tilts her head.

After a moment of thinking Brainy nods. “Fair point.”

“Next game night I will order one and you can try it!” Sam says happily while winking at Emma, who smiles back.

“Just keep it away from me.” Alex says, shivering at the thought.

“Sorry to change the subject, buuutttt, Emma.” Kara says making Emma freeze while her last pizza slice was near her lips. She lowers it slightly while looking at her sister, who is beaming from ear to ear.

“Yea?”

“I saw you working on a song, wanna share it?”

All the Superfriends turn to look at Emma expectantly. Always appreciative of hearing anything Emma is working on. Taking a deep breath she lowers the slice back to the box and wipes her hands on a napkin.

“Peanut, you don’t have too.” Alex says glaring at Kara. Emma would do anything to make her sisters happy, Alex knew this. So did Kara. And yes, they would both exploit it sometimes.

“No, it’s okay. Would be great to get everyone's opinion.” Emma grabs her guitar and notebook. Reminding herself of the chords. “So… This… Well…” Sighing heavily, Emma closes her eyes to control her nerves. “I kind of imagine this as a duet, but with, well, the band breaking up. I may have to rethink it a bit.” Emma focuses on the fire in front of her, feeling too embarrassed to look at anyone.

She starts playing the chords and sings. Allowing the music to wash over and for her voice to carry with the wind. Emma adds the new verse but as she nears the end she feels her emotions take over, her frustration at her situation and the need to release it. She improvises. Closing her eyes and allowing herself to go with it.

Whoa-oh-ah-oh-ahh

Emma belts out, slamming her fingers into the guitar strings as she increases in passion and volume.

I'm off the deep end, watch as I dive in I'll never meet the ground Crash through the surface, where they can't hurt us We're far from the shallow now

A smile graces Emma’s face as she lifts her head.

In the shallow, shallow In the shallow, shallow

Emma softens her voice, allowing the natural end of the song to take place.

In the shallow, shallow We're far from the shallow now.

Emma allows the last chord to hold longer than necessary. She keeps her eyes closed and waits.

A huge roar around her causes her to jump and open her eyes. A crowd has gathered round the group and are applauding her. The Superfriends all clap wildly too, Alex wipes tears from her face and Kara beams as brightly as the sun. Emma turns to look at Lena and her smile is as bright, if not brighter then Kara’s. Her green eyes simmering with tears. Emma watches as one falls and she gently reaches out and wipes it away with her thumb.

She then acknowledges the crowd with a small wave and thanks them with a bow of her head. They soon disperse, returning to their own groups and Emma sighs in relief.

“So, was the song okay?” Emma asks while picking at a chipped bit of wood on the base of her guitar.

“Okay?” Alex's voice booms causing Emma to quickly look at her sister. Alex’s eyes are wide. “Okay? Em that song… Wow I don’t have the words!”

“That’s what Lena said.” Emma smiles at the two women.

“Well it’s true.” Lena grins back, nudging her shoulder into the blonde’s.

The other Superfriends nod and agree.

“It really moved me.” Sam says smiling at Emma who blushes in response.

“Yes.” Brainy adds. “Very- touching.” Nia smiles at him. Emma grins too, happy Brainy was able to express himself.

Emma plays a few more well known songs and the Superfriends join in. But as the sun dips slowly into the horizon Emma stops and hands the guitar to James who continues playing. Not as well as Emma but enough.

Emma heads back towards the surf, wading in up to below her knees. Taking deep breaths she watches the colours change, memorising the rich reds, oranges and yellows. Lena comes and stands next to her. They watch in comfortable silence and Lena links her fingers with Emma’s. They smile softly to each other before watching the sun dip under the horizon.

(Part Two)

#supergirl #supergirl imagine #supergirl tv #supergirl fanfic #supergirl fanfiction #supergirl baby danvers #lena luthor x baby danvers #alex danvers x baby danvers #kara danvers x baby danvers #lena luthor imagine #alex danvers imagine #kara danvers imagine #b!d #baby danvers

[celestialvoid-fanfiction]

Get Well Soon

Harry gets the magical flu and he’s laid up in bed for a week. The only reason he doesn’t fall behind in classes is because he gets notes from a classmate, but he doesn’t know who it is.

For @loveyprophet​

(You can read it on AO3 here)

Magical flu – who would have thought that’d be a thing? Unfortunately for Harry, it was.

He’d been laid up in bed for three days now, swaddled in blankets and sleeping through the day.

The first few days he had spent in the hospital wing, but once his fever broke the matron agreed to let him rest in the Gryffindor dorms.

The first letter came that evening. Harry watched as it fluttered through the open window of the dorm room, fluttering wings keeping it afloat as it gracefully circled the room, the paper crackling with the movement.

Harry cupped his hands and held out his arms, watching – mesmerised – as the enchanted paper bird landed in his hand and fell still.

He carefully unfolded the paper, feeling a strange warmth settle in his chest as he looked down at the elegant scrawls of lettering across the page.

There were pages upon pages of notes, each titled by which class they were for. There were notes for the past three days of lessons—about what they had learnt in class as well as observations the writer had made and doodles and illustrations along the edges of the paper.

Among the notes for Herbology, there were illustrations of the plants as well as notes on the side about how to tend to them, what potions and medicines they were used in, and their own magical properties.

There were more notes on Transfiguration, Charms, History of Magic, and Defence Against the Dark Arts. The notes for Astronomy were covered in illustrations of stars and constellations that sat alongside the lesson notes: Canis Major with a brilliantly vibrant star—Sirius; Cygnus, Lyra, and at the bottom of the page Draco.  

For Potions, there were detailed notes on what the potion was used for and step-by-step instructions. In the columns were small illustrations of the ingredients – herbs, beetles, flowers; all beautifully drawn – and an animated drawing of a potion blowing up in Seamus’ face—a common enough occurrence that seeing the animated sketch play through made Harry smile.

Harry read the notes avidly, finding himself smiling more and more as he read through the pages. But what caught him off guard was the final page; it was empty except for one sentence, the beautifully elegant handwriting making the words seem all the more meaningful.

Get well soon.

The next day, another enchanted letter appeared, fluttering through the open window. It landed in Harry’s hand, stretching its wings and slowing before falling still.

Harry felt his heart flutter with anticipation, shocked to find himself looking forward to seeing that beautiful handwriting again.

He unfolded the notes, letting out a small sigh of relief as he looked down at the elegant scrawls of ink.

He first few pages were Herbology notes, the boarder of the pages beautifully illustrated with drawings of fungi—bundles of enoki, rows of hiratake and oyster mushrooms that grew likes rippling shelves on the side of a towering tree, rounded toadstools with bright tops, and clusters of honey agaric. There were notes of which fungi were edible and which were not.

The next page were notes from Potions class. Harry read through them all, turning the page over. He couldn’t help but laugh as he looked down at the illustrtion at the bottom of the page; a rather unflattering animated doodle of Snape blathering on with a seach bubble that read ‘blah, blah, blah’.

When he finished laughing, he drew in a deep breath and read through the rest of the notes, feeling his heart sip a beat as he read the message on the final page—the one line of elegant writing.

Get well soon.

Harry stared at that one sentence for a while.

Finally, he let out a measured sigh and laid the rest of the notes on top, reaching over to his bedside table and picking up one of his notebooks. He opened the cover and set the pages of notes inside, setting them aside where they’d be safe.

The next day, Harry was starting to feel a lot better, even more so when another enchanted letter flew through the windows and into Harry’s hands.

His heart fluttered as he read the beautiful script.

He turned through the pages, reading the notes.

The third Herbology class that week was about flowers, the pages of notes decorated with beautiful illustrations of lilies, jasmine, dandelions, and hawthorn as well as notes on how they could be used for healing and potions.

Among the notes was a pressed hawthorn flower.

Harry gently picked it up off the paper, turning it around in his fingers.

It was beautiful, delicate. The crisp white petals seemed enchanting on their own.

He set it aside carefully, turning his attention back to the letter.

The pages of notes from Potions class were filled with silly jokes and mocking doodles of Professor Snape.

He couldn’t help but smile as he read through the pages, feeling a warmth settle in his chest as he read the elegant handwriting.

“What are you smirking at?” Ron asked as he made his way into the dorm and flopped down on the end of Harry’s bed.

“Nothing,” Harry said dismissively.

He picked out one of the pages and handed it to Ron.

“Does his handwriting look familiar to you?” he asked.

Ron looked down at the page.

“No,” he said, turning the piece of paper over and bursting into laughter at the crude doodle of Professor Snape. “But whoever they are, they’ve captured Snape perfectly.”

Ron passed the letter to Neville.

Neville looked it over, snickering at the illustration before passing it to Seamus who then passed it to Dean, but they all had the same answer: no one knew who wrote the notes.

“Whoever it is, they’ve got to be a Ravenclaw,” Seamus said. “No one else pays that much attention in class.”

“Hermione does,” Ron countered, looking at another page he’d picked up off the bed. “But that’s not her handwriting.”

“Is that so?” Dean said, his voice drawn out in a suggestive tone. He smirked and arched a brow as he looked at Ron.

“Shut up,” Ron replied.

Harry chuckled. He took the pages back, sliding them in place with the rest of the notes.

He flicked to the last page, the same as the last page of all the others.

Get well soon.

The others began to talk about their day but Harry wasn’t listening though; his attention was focused on the pressed flower in his hand. He turned the hawthorn around in his fingers, looking at it with wonder.

“Who are you?” he mused, his voice a quiet whisper.

He carefully set the flower back among the pages, reaching for his notebook and setting the notes aside.

Days later, Harry was finally well enough to join classes, and as happy as he was about being able to leave the dorms and spend time with his friends, there was something that weighed on him. The thought of never receiving another letter broke his heart.

That morning, before breakfast, Harry opened the notebook where the letters had been stored, picking up one of the final pages that read ‘Get well soon’. He stared down at the curves of the lettering, feeling his heart flutter in his chest. He folded up the piece of paper and stowed it in his pocket.

Throughout the day, Harry and his friends would compare the elegant scrawls of writing from the letter to the penmanship of their classmates, but none of the girls’ handwriting matched up.

That evening, Harry, Ron and Hermione were gathered in the Gryffindor common room. Ron was stretched out across the couch in front of the fire while Harry and Hermione sat on the floor.

Harry had brought out the letters in order to show Hermione the notes, hoping she would recognise the handwriting.

“It almost looks like…” Hermione’s voice trailed off. “Never mind.”

“What?” Harry asked, hopeful.

“Forget it,” Hermione said, shaking her head as she handed the page of Potions notes back to Harry.

“Hermione,” Harry pleaded.

Hermione let out a sigh.

“When Malfoy takes notes in Herbology and Potions, he sometimes draws the flowers, herbs and whatnot beside his notes,” she said. “It almost looks like his drawings.”

“Malfoy?” Ron repeated, his voice a mix of shock, disbelief, and disgust.

“But I don’t know what his handwriting looks like and I doubt Draco Malfoy would be sending you letters,  let alone ones that say ‘get well soon’,” Hermione pointed out.

Harry let out a dejected sigh, looking down at the page in his hand.

“Oh no,” Hermione said. “I know that face.”

“What?” Harry asked, looking up at her.

“Harry, you can’t seriously tell me you’ve fallen for someone you don’t even know because they sent you a letter,” Hermione said.

Harry let out a heavy sigh, but he didn’t deny it.

“Harry,” Hermione said, her voice soft but scolding.

There was a heavy thud as a stack of paper dropped between them.

“Bloody hell,” Ron gasped, looking up at his brothers. “What’s this?”

“Samples of handwriting from every house,” Fred answered.

“You’re welcome,” George added.

Harry stared at the pile, his eyes wide with shock. “How did you—?”

“We called in a favour from Cedric Diggory,” George explained. “He put together examples of everyone’s handwriting from the Hufflepuff dorms—guys and girls alike.”

“Ginny talked to Luna and got her to ask everyone in Ravenclaw to write something down,” Fred added.

“We had to bribe Pansy Parkinson to get examples of everyone’s handwriting in the Slytherin dorm,” George said, his voice a little tense.

“How did you know—?”

“That you were looking for who wrote the letters?” George finished Harry’s question. “The whole dorm knows.”

“The whole of Hogwarts knows,” Fred countered teasingly.

Harry looked down at the stacks of paper and then back up at the twins. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” they said in unison.

A couple of others joined them, sorting through the mountain of paper – pages of notes, scraps of paper with things written on them, etc – and comparing the handwriting to the elegant script of the letters.

There were a lot that came close, but weren’t quite right: the slant of the writing wasn’t the same, there wasn’t as much of a curve on the upwards stroke of the “d”s or the downwards stroke of the “y”s.

Harry was about to give up hope when he picked up another page of writing.

His heart stopped, his breath catching in his throat.

He help the page up to the letter.

It was an exact match.

His eyes drifted to the name at the top of the page.

Without a word, he held the page out to Ron.

Ron took it, comparing the writing. He opened his mouth to say something when he noticed the same thing as harry—the name at the top.

“Bloody hell,” he muttered.

“What is it?” Hermione asked.

Ron passed the age to her, letting her see for herself, but Harry couldn’t get the name out of his mind.

Draco Malfoy.

The next day, Harry sat alone in the library.

He watched as the light outside the large windows of the library began to dim and the sky lit up with a brilliant display of colours.

He turned his attention to the blank piece of parchment before him, staring at the paper as he tried to figure out what to write.

He jumped at the loud thud of someone dropping their books on the table.

He turned to see Draco pull out a chair a few seats down from him. He sat down and opened the large text books, pulling out his notebook as he set to work writing things down.

Harry looked down at the piece of paper in front of him. He picked up his quill and began to write.

He wrote down two words before sketching a paper crane below it.

He set aside his quill and pushed the paper across the table.

Draco looked up from his work, his brow furrowed slightly as he picked up the piece of paper and read it.

‘Thank you.’

Draco looked up at Harry, puzzled. Thoughts swirled like storm clouds in his grey eyes, but he didn’t say anything. He just looked back down at the letter and smiled.

#drarry #drarry fanfiction #drarry fic #drarry fanfic #drarry au #drarry sick au #sick harry #sick!harry #sick harry potter #sick!harry potter #pining #mutual pining #one shot #short one shot #drarry oneshot #drarry one shot #oneshot #short oneshot #loveyprophet #for loveyprophet #fluff #drarry fluff

[joezworld]

Toby - Rap God

Guys I was making myself laugh when I wrote this - I hope you enjoy it as much as I did. 

Based entirely on one line from this.

2019

There are many engines on the Island of Sodor, and like many people, music is often part of their lives.

Some engines, like Percy and Duck, have no interest in the subject, having never been exposed to it in a real manner.

Others, like Gordon and Henry, have extremely well-defined music tastes. (Unfortunately for those around them, they do not like the same music, and arguments often ensue.)

James, being extremely vain, enjoys the songs written about him for the children's television show based on the writings of The Thin Clergyman.

And then there’s Toby...

-----------

Toby is a small brown steam tram. He has spent almost all of his life on Sodor on Thomas' branch line, where he and his coach Henrietta trundle up and down the valley at the top of the line - providing a valuable commuter service from the branch line terminus to the stone mines at Anopha.

Toby likes music, as does Henrietta; they like it so much that in 1989 the workmen installed a radio in Henrietta so that the two could listen to music on it as they worked.

This was very thoughtful gift, but there was a small problem:

The hills outside of the quarry meant that many radio stations couldn't reach the small antenna on Henrietta's roof.

Fortunately, a few did, mostly overpowered stations on the Isle of Man. These stations were designed to reach boats far out at sea, and mainly played uninteresting things like the Shipping Forecast.

There was, however, one station that did come come through loud and clear no matter where you were...

---

You're listening to ManxPirate - the Barely-Seaworthy voice of the Sudrian Sea. I’m your sea-going Deejay - or Sea-Jay - Musik Mike! Up next is our most popular block of the day - that’s right, the JAMS are LOUD and we're all gonna get DEF!

"Oh Henrietta! It's starting!"

"Just be ready on the choruses Toby"

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

The sounds of music echoed off of the Els river valley as Toby and Henrietta trundled towards Elsbridge.

Aside from their Quarry duties, Toby and Henrietta also worked 'the school bus', a daily train that carried schoolchildren from the remote farmhouses between Elsbridge and Hackenbeck to the Saint Pedroc's school in Elsbridge.

Toby loved this route - many of the children had been taking 'the bus' since Grade 1, and he felt privileged to have seen them grow up into fine young adults.

-

As he pulled into the platform at Elsbridge station, he saw those young adults crowded around each other.

'"Peep Peep! Let's go, everyone!" he called to the teens.

"Just a minute Tobes!" Called back Sera, one of the teenagers, before she turned back to her friends, who were filming her with their 'smart-phones'.

"Whatever could they be doing?" He asked Henrietta as Sera and her friend Phoebe bounced up and down in unison while waving their arms around.

"Undoubtedly something for the internet," the coach mused. "But I have no idea what - trends change so fast now".

"Internet?" Toby was puzzled. "Don't they need a computer for that?"

"Toby. Smartphones have been around for over ten years. How do you not know about this?"

"I'm sorry that I'm not as technologically advanced as you - but at least I know what steam is!"

"Oh my goodness, it's also a video game company now. You've heard those jokes before!"

Toby and Henrietta likely would have gone on like that until the guard blew his whistle, but Phoebe broke away from the group of teens, her phone in her hand.

"Toby?" She asked, clearly trying not laugh. "Do you know what Vossi Bop is?"

Toby was taken aback. "Of course I do. Vossi Bop isn't my favourite, but that's just because I don't like Stormzy that much - I'm not one for Grime."

Phoebe blinked like she'd been poleaxed. "What?"

"It's a Stormzy song, isn't it?"

"Toby," Henrietta sighed. "She was asking because she thought you didn't know. Was this going to be some kind of thing where you show rap music to the elderly and laugh at them being shocked?" She asked Phoebe, who nodded slowly.

"Well, you're going to have to better than that young lady," The coach smirked. "We've been listening to ManxPirate since before you were born!"

"Really?" The blonde asked slowly.

"Oh yes!" Henrietta boasted. "Eazy-E was still alive when we first tuned in!"

"Oh, em, gee!" The girl said, before turning and shouting down the platform. "Guys! They do know!"

-

The excited teenagers crowded around Toby and Henrietta as they quizzed the tram on rap music. Any thought of leaving on time was totally forgotten about as Toby's extensive knowledge of gangsta rap was laid out for them.

"Mate, mate," said John, one of the boys. "You gotta do The Challenge if you know all this!"

"What challenge?" Toby asked.

The teens clamored over each other, before they all stopped to let someone speak intelligibly.

Rachel Kyndley eventually spoke up: "It's a thing that ManxPirate is doing on TikTok. You sing along to a rap song and whoever does it the best gets to record a charity single with Stormzy!"

The teens again spoke over each other, all claiming that Toby and Henrietta should sing for the challenge.

Toby had to blow his whistle to calm them down. "I suppose there's nothing to lose by it," He said after a moment. "But I should say that my flow isn’t that good."

"Mate, I am amazed that you know what that means,” Said John. “But you just need to sing along to somethin’ that’s already out there.” 

“Oh.” Toby looked back at Henrietta. “Well that shouldn’t be too hard. Do you have any N.W.A we could sing along to?”

As he had the only ‘eye-phone pro’, Simon the student newspaper editor was volunteered as cameraperson, while Rachel set a small ‘blue tooth speaker’ on Toby’s bufferbeam so that he could hear the music.  

The remaining teenagers pulled out their phones as well - whatever happened next was going to be un-fucking-believable. 

-

The music began with record scratching. The kids looked at each other in shock. There was no way that Rachel had picked this.

"Right about now NWA court is in full effect” Henrietta sang.

Rachel had. The teens could barely contain themselves. 

“Judge Dre presiding in the case of NWA versus the police department.

Prosecuting attourneys are MC Ren, Ice Cube and Eazy motherfuckin' E”

Hearing Henrietta say ‘fuck’, was an astonishing experience for the unprepared teenagers.

“Order, order, order, Ice Cube take the motherfuckin' stand

Do you swear to tell the truth the whole truth

And nothin' but the truth so help your black ass?”

“You goddamn right” Toby responded. Rachel Kyndley barely could hold back a shout of astonishment. I hope there’s no book written about this! She thought.

“Well, won't you tell everybody what the fuck you gotta say?"

Then there was a record scratching sound. 

The teens knew what came next. They hoped that they were prepared to hear this song come out of Toby.

"Fuck the police comin' straight from the underground!" 

Toby and Henrietta not only sang this lyric, they sang it in harmony. 

The teenagers thought that they had been prepared. 

They were not prepared. 

Most of the next few verses were lost underneath the clamor of twelve teenagers losing their goddamn minds.

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

A few days later

Toby was resting in his shed when a little car came tearing into the station parking lot. More girls than should have been possible to fit in it came tumbling out and made a beeline for his shed, Rachel Kyndley in the lead. 

“Toby! Toby! Toby! You won! You won!” She shouted as she skidded over the gravel. 

“Won what?”

“The Contest!” She shrieked. “Your video went viral and you won The Contest! Stormzy said on Instagram that he was excited to meet you!” 

She and her friends dissolved into happy squealing, preventing any further speech. 

“What’s Instagram?” Toby asked Henrietta. 

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

The Next Week

Stephen Hatt was enjoying his tea and tolerating his toast and marmalade, when his son Richard burst into his office, waving his phone around like a sword. 

“Were you just not going to tell me that you let Stormzy visit the engines? Or was I just supposed to figure this out when Kieran and Micah tore my ear off for not letting them meet him?!”

“I have a phone, you know. And a receptionist.” Stephen said as he cleaned tea off of his desk. Fortunately, most of it had gone onto the marmalade covered toast, which he unceremoniously dumped into the trash. “And who have I let meet the engines?”

“Stormzy? The rapper? He headlined at Glastonbury last bloody month?”

“I don’t follow.”

“He’s a musician, and you let him record an album with Toby!”

“He recorded music? With Toby? Our Toby?”

“Yes! It was supposed to be a single, but now it’s an album! It hit number one! And it’s been out for three hours!”

“You’re saying this as if I have the slightest idea what you’re talking about.”

“Just read the article!” Richard shoved the phone into his hand. The website for  BBC Sodor and Man was open. 

-

STORMZY DROPS SURPRISE ALBUM WITH SURPRISE COSTARS

ELSBRIDGE - Music fans across the world were surprised this morning when Stormzy unexpectedly announced via Instagram the release of his newest album, Back in Their Day - featuring two of the realest OGs I’ve ever seen.

Residents of Sodor were especially surprised to discover who those “two real OGs” were: Toby and Henrietta, an engine and coach on the Ffarquhar Branch Line. 

This unexpected collaboration began several weeks ago when a viral video on TikTok featuring the pair attracted the attention of the rapper...

-

Stephen skimmed the rest of the article, not quite believing what he was reading. “I didn’t authorize any of this.” He said at last. 

“Really?” Richard said, not quite believing him. “Because that’s what the staff on the Branch told me too.”

“I swear to you I didn’t do anything.”

“Then what, did the biggest star in the country just go to Ffarquhar and record an album with Toby? With nobody’s permission?”

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

[TWO YEARS LATER]

--CHANNEL 4 INTERNAL TRANSCRIPT: THE LAST LEG 2021 CHRISTMAS SPECIAL--

ADAM HILLS - So we’ve had a lot of questions, about, the last album you dropped-

[AUDIENCE LAUGHTER]

AH - The one with the train engine -  I think his name is Toby?

STORMZY - And Henrietta. Can’t forget her. 

AH - Of course not.

S - What do you wanna know?

[MORE LAUGHTER]

AH - Well, I don’t have any questions - and when I say we, I don’t mean Alex or our viewers - 

[PROLONGED LAUGHTER]

AH - I mean Josh.

JOSH WIDDICOMBE - [TO ADAM] You’re an Arse. [To STORMZY] - Um, I just wanted to know how you did it really. Is it, is it true that you snuck in and did it all in one night?

S - Oh yeah! Absolutely. ‘Cause, I thought that it was gonna be a one and done, like just a single y’know? So I just went there and was gonna do it and go. But as we kept talkin’ I realized that, that, I just had to make more, and then it became the album and we shot a music video for ‘scrapp’ on the same night and then I did some sound work  and then it went up. 

AH - Just like that?

S - Just like that.

#music #music tastes #fanfic #ttte #ttte fanfic #ttte toby #ttte henrietta #rap music #cursing #long #I wrote this one for me #and I was laughing hysterically the whole time #I'm american and listen to disco #why did I make this about rap and stormzy #story #headcanon #ttte headcanon #sodor #sodor shenangians #shenanigans #fic #toby rap god

[littlespaceporgs]

This.

Congrats on the follows! Could you write 15. “how much did you drink?” With kit Fisto? That tall drink of alien fish man would be so good at taking care of me while I try to confess my love and refuse drinking water

A/N: Pre-warning, this is fluffy as all shit, super tooth rotting, chest skipping fluff. Now, I’ve deliberately made the first half to read, as you are a lil bit drunk, so if you stick it out, you’ll get to the part that’s actually good, Hope you like!

Want to Request? See Here.

This.

Prompt: #15 - “How much did you drink?”

Word Count: ~1.8k (wow I was just gonna do a little drabble) Pairing: Kit Fisto x reader Description: A trip out with Aayla typically ends in some form of drunken shenanigans. This time it may have ended better.

Tags: @mcu-padawan​ and everyone I’m tagging in the comments because I posted this when everyone was asleep 😅

Through the cloudy haze of drunkenness, this all seemed quite fun.

It started with a successful mission out on the Outer Rim and returning home. Upon making it back to the temple, you very quickly discovered that Aayla and yourself were finally planet-side on Coruscant together for the first time in months. And then it was a short briefing with the council, and she was waiting outside your quarters. After a somewhat tearful totally unattached reunion, you both came to the decision to go out and celebrate still being alive and both of your recent victories. It all went down-hill from there.

What began as one drink out and then back to the temple, very quickly became four drinks here and then find a new bar. That’s how you found yourself stumbling back to the temple in each-other’s arms after the fourth place. Somewhere, behind the foggy recollection of the night, you idly thought about the regrets you’d likely have tomorrow. But that, as Anakin Skywalker would say, is future you’s problem.

A curse from the Twi-Lek next to you brought you from your musings. Lazily swivelling towards her, you sent a small wave of confusion through the force. The response she had was to look up at the temple stairs, look back to her feet, gesture angrily upwards, and curse once more. Snorting to yourself, you began pulling each other up the many stairs, giggling and nearly falling over every second step. After the first 10 minutes of only making it 15 steps, you both slumped to the floor. Leaning over each other, you pressed your backs to the step.

“Ah shit, Aayla, we’re not even haf-way yet, we’re never gonna make it!” She groaned and threw her head back.

“I know,” she dragged out the ‘o’ sound, “but we can’t sit here all night either.” Sighing in unison, you fell into an easy silence.

Oh wait! You could call Kit! He was always so nice, he probably wouldn’t mind coming to pick you up off the ground. He did so when you were injured, he would do the same when you’re drunk right? Aayla hummed.

“Good idea, I’ll comm him.” You felt a brush of confusion, ah, must have said that out loud. Reassuring your shields, you put your head on her shoulder while she typed in the number. Your feelings for Kit had always been there of course, and at this point, he’s seen you in more embarrassing situations than you care to admit. Despite this, you couldn’t ignore the flutter in your chest and the churning in your stomach when you thought about him coming to get you. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen you drunk before, there was that time when you were Padawans and.. but you weren’t at the point of saying what you were thinking at the time.

“Aayla, is something wrong?” His voice rang out clear from her wrist.

“Yes – well no, not really,” She stopped for a second, and you could almost feel the confusion from the Nautolan. Gathering your voice, you tried to not slur as much as possible.

“Hi! Um – we went for a few drinks and now we can’t go up stairs.” There was silence again, before he snorted. Vaguely, you felt a ping of annoyance.

“Of course, and I suppose you want me to come and get you?” Without thinking, the two of you nodded, before Aayla noticed that he couldn’t hear nods and said yes.

The next thing you knew, he was kneeling on the step below you, holding his hand out to you. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Aayla steadily pushing herself off the ground. You grinned widely.

“Hey Kit! Where’ve you been? It’s been ages,” he only grinned back and pushed a small bottle of water into your hands.

“You only called me two minutes ago, my very drunk friend.” You chest stung very lightly, but you did not wipe the grin off your face. Wrapping one of his arms around your waist, he pulled you from the ground.

“How much did you drink?”

You shrugged with waved him off. “Not enough to deal with your sarcasm.” He snorted and shook his head, before directing a look at Aayla.

“Are you going to be ok to get yourself back to your quarters? I think this one is going to need some help,” Aayla turned her head, just enough to sneak a small smirk at you, before nodding and walking up the stairs, with perfect balance.

“Alright little one, let’s get you to bed, and please drink that,” he said, starting to move towards the sleeping quarters wing. You spared a confused glance at the bottle.

“But, but I don’t want to drink this? Oh wait! Kit, there’s something I gotta tell you!” His entire face smiled and he let out an airy laugh.

“Do you think you can wait until we get back to my quarters? Then, you can tell me all about it.” You nodded proudly. At the time, it hadn’t even registered that you were going to his quarters and not your own.

The next thing you remember was a very soft blanket that was covering the bottom half of you. If you turned to your left slightly, you could see the edge of the Coruscant starry sky. The palest moonlight streamed in and made shapes on the floor. It wasn’t until you sat up that you realised you weren’t actually in your room. This was Kit’s.

You could vaguely remember seeing him on the stairs, but you figured you must have just passed out not long after. Getting to your feet, you wondered out into the kitchen, where the light from the window was reflecting off his tentacles. He wasn’t wearing his robes now, just a plain pair of pants and a sleep shirt.

“Good to see you can actually walk.” Breathing heavily out of your nose, and mock-glared towards the Nautolan. When he spun back around, he was holding two cups of steaming tea. Idly, you noted that it smelt like the flowers you found on your home planet.

“Good to see you’re as jovial as ever.” He snorted and handed one cup to you. You both walked over to the spot near the window, and made yourselves comfortable on the floor, one knee pressed together, and one of your legs draped across his lap. Just like how you’d done so many nights before.

You watched the few speeders that were out at this hour fly past, and watched as the misty clouds seemed to become fluffy balls of light as the stars shone through. The steam from the tea warmed the tip of your nose, and you could feel your muscles relax as you sighed, smiling to yourself, staring out the window. With a passing breeze, you noticed that this was the most relaxed you’d felt since the war began.

You didn’t notice, but instead of watching the sky, Kit was watching the moon lighten you.

“So, I’m guessing you had a good night?” Moving your gaze to Kit, you noticed the loth-cat-like grin he wore. You snorted airily.

“I’m sure I did, it’s a little foggy for me though,” and it clicked, “wait is Aayla ok?”

“She’s fine, I commed her as soon as I brought you back here.” Sighing in relief, you nodded and fell into silence.

“Thanks, by the way, I would still be on the steps if it weren’t for you.” He laughed and gently nudged your knee.

“You’ve done it for me before, I was only evening it out! And don’t thank me yet, you’ve only slept for 15 minutes, you have yet to wake up with the true aftermath.” Groaning, you shoved him back, rewarding you with another laugh. When the laughter ceased, a comfortable silence fell again. You broke it once more, swallowing your fear.

“I mean it though, I honestly don’t know what I’d do without you.” Your face felt suddenly all too warm, and you noticed all the spots your skin was pressed against his. Your right knee pressing into his thigh. Your left ankle against his stomach. When he opened his mouth to speak, you waved him off. “Seriously! You- you’re just, amazing, you know? If I had to be stranded on a planet with nothing else, you’re what I’d bring.” He snorted, but covered one of your hands with his. 

“I think I know what you mean.” This and the lopsided smile made your heart stop in your chest, and something in your abdomen lurched. More quiet, with the exception of the occasional speeder engine. Turning, you moved so your head was instead on his shoulder, and you became a tangle of legs and various parts in front of the window. After a second, he pressed a kiss on the top of your head. From where your head was, you could feel his heart beating faster.

You both knew what you meant. You didn’t need to say it. It was there however, the knowledge of each other’s feelings. It probably always had been. The hands on shoulders, the sides of your legs pressed together when sitting, the favourite teas, the same place to meditate in, the knowing what expressions meant, the knowing of how you were feeling, it was all this. Just, this.

Your eyes were beginning to drop now, and all the tension in your body was gone. You yawned as he pulled you closer. With one last piece of confidence, you asked.

“Can we please talk about this tomorrow? I’d say now but I have a feeling I’ll want to remember.” He laughed much gentler than before, so as to not move you too much.

“Yes… I think we should.”

BONUS:

You were no stranger to a hangover, nor a stranger to waking up in Kit’s room. Again. Brushing your forehead with your fingertips, you sighed contentedly. The sun was much brighter than it needed to be, but the warmth was a welcome you wouldn’t soon forget.

He appeared in the doorway, and with a voice just above a whisper, he said something like a good morning. You replied and looked at him, he was leaning on the frame, his arms loosely folded, and a very gentle smile on his face. He usually smiled like that when you were together. You noticed that he seemed almost nervous.

“Can we talk? About this?” he vaguely gestured at the space between the two of you. You heart skipped as you remembered the conversation from much earlier hours, and you patted the spot on the bed beside you. His shoulders dropped in relief, and he took the first half-a-step in your direction. You smiled, and gave a look that had always been reserved for him, and replied.

“Yeah, I think we should.”

#kit fisto x reader #kit x reader #star wars #tcw #star wars fanfic #drunk #kit fisto #reader insert #tooth rotting fluff #like super fluffy #best friends to lovers?

[iamdunn]

Miraculous Flash Forward Part 16: Familiar Enemies

A Miraculous Fan-Fic

Written By 

AJ Dunn

It had been years since the four of them had done this, it made them all feel like children again as they walked around Paris looking for Andre. The sun was beginning to descend casting hues of pink and orange across the blue sky.

“It’s the most romantic time of day.” Marinette said. “I bet we’ll find him by the Seine.”

“I agree, Andre never could miss a romantic opportunity.” Alya agreed. Nino took her hand as they ran like children towards the bridge. This was where the Liberty used to dock all the time. Adrien remembered when all of their friends would gather on this bank to eat Andre’s ice cream and listen to Kitty Section. He had always wanted it to be Marinette that he shared an ice cream with, but she always denied having feelings for him, no matter how hard he fished for it. He smiled down at her as they waited behind Nino and Alya to get their ice cream for the first time. 

“Uhh… Marinette, what a vision of perfection, and Young Adrien is a man fit for her protection…” His face seems more delighted to see them together than pretty much anyone else. “Mint for his emerald starre, Black Cherry for the beautiful lives you will share, Your love is as destined as the stars astuc upon the sea. You two were always meant to be.” he handed Adrien the cone as Marinette and Alya giggled. They sat down by the Seine for old times sake as they reminisced. 

“Wait, you finally proposed?” Nino wasn’t quiet. “Did she say yes?”

“Well, no, she kinda just babbled for a few minutes until I just kissed her and that was the end of it.” Adrien looked at her cheeks now flushed then spooned a bite of ice cream into her mouth. 

“Do you guys hear that?” Alya said as everyone quieted to listen. There was music playing nearby, band music. They all stood up and headed down the bank of the Seine until they found the source.

“The Liberty.” they all shouted in unison as they ran towards it. The gangplank was up and they could see their old friends playing. Luka and Julek on guitars. Ivan on the drums. Mylene, and Zoe, seated on actual seats rather than box’s. There were two small square tables now on the deck with four chairs each. Mylene and Zoe were seated at one table. The song came to an abrupt end as Adrien crossed the gangplank with Marinette’s hand in his. They were following Alya and Nino, but when the song ended it was the moment Luka’s eyes caught Adriens. 

“It’s about time.” Luka set his guitar down and ran to the couple. He threw his arms around Adrien’s neck pulling him tight into a hug. They were nearly the same height but Luka was still rather thin compared to the musculature tone of Adriens chest and shoulders. “I knew you two were roommates, and there had been rumors that you were more.” he said as he pulled away. The turned his attention to Marinette giving her a hug, stooping to reach her shoulders. 

“Adrien...Adrien...Adrien.” the band called to him urging him to join them on stage. Adrien blushed as he pulled out a seat for Marinette. Alya and Nino sat down at the empty table with Marinette. Zoe and Mylene moved their chairs and pushed the two tables together so they could all sit together. Adrien stepped up to the keyboard.

“I haven’t played in so long.” He confessed. “But uh, can you guys do this.” he hit a few notes mimicking a tune for a song. 

“Bad Romance, hell yeah.” Luka said.

“I don’t know the words to that one.” Rose said, as she was the main singer.

“Let me handle this one.” Adrien smiled. He looked over at Marinette. She hadn’t been listening so he started playing out the tune. The audience stopped talking and watched. The upbeat music took over as Adrien began to sing the lyrics. Juleka almost missed her beat as she was caught off guard. Rose stood quietly listening to him before she too began to sing, didn’t know all of the lyrics, but she knew the harmony. 

“Adrien, I always knew you a lot more rock & roll and a lot less piano solo.” Luka smiled. “Another one?” Adrien smiled at Marinette who’s eyes locked on his. Adrien nodded. Adrien started playing a tune, Luka recognized it and began playing along with Juleka as Ivan stilled his drums to watch. 

Adrien's voice rose up as he sang a song that often played in his mind when he was with Marinette. It was Perfect, by Ed Sheeran. The crowd awed as the words slipped softly from his lips as he played his eyes lost in hers. He watched her face glow. Her hands folded together under her chin. He almost lost his words as her eyes twinkled with the love he felt for her. When the line about having children came, she blushed and turned her eyes away. He hadn’t gone that far with her, not yet. He wanted to, so badly it hurt, but he was holding on to the one thing he had never given anyone, he wouldn’t give it away that easily and he was sure she had never experienced it either. 

The night out on the town had been a well needed break from the twins. They were spending the night with Tom & Sabine, in Marinette’s old bedroom. They were happy to get to bake cookies and Tom was excited to teach them. Adrien mused over what it would be like to have grandchildren and this was his trial run.

Adrien and Marinette made transformed into Cat and Ladybug for a high rise tour of the city. A means to get back to the people they used to be. This time, as they ran from rooftop to rooftop with Adrien’s cat puns and jests, Marinette returned his jokes with snarky playful comments in response. Adrien was happy she had stopped shutting down his playful side and let herself enjoy it. The one hesitancy he had to let her have all of him, was her inability to accept all of him. He had worried that she only saw the sunshine boy that his father had made him out to be, and that she wouldn’t accept him for who he really was. 

“I hope you can love this side of me,” He said as he collided with her in mid-air. He hung by one arm suspended under a street lamp as he clung to her with the other. “Because this is who I truly am. Not that.” He looked up to see an old poster of him from his modeling days sprawled out on a street advert. It was from his fragrance commercial. Suddenly and before their eyes, the images changed to photos from the days his father made him pose with Lila. She was kissing him, but he never kissed her on the lips. A pink heart was around their faces as the close up showed them locked in a loving embrace.

“What the…” Adrien lost his grip on the lamp post as he and Ladybug slipped to the street below. 

“Adrien.” Marinette said, staring at the image. “You and Lila?” 

“I never have,” he said angrily. “This is fake. But how.” Ladybug swung her yo-yo angrily at the poster knowing that vandalism was a crime didn’t change the ache in her heart. The image dissolved into smoke and an image of Kitty Section took it’s place. 

“A mirage.” Ladybug said. 

“Vulpina?” 

“But how, Hawk Moth was the only way she could receive her powers.” Ladybug thought for a second. “Trixx.” She called Alya, 

“Do you have Trixx, are you still wearing your…”

“Slow down girl, yeah of course. Why?” Ladybug sighed and told her about the mirage. They heard a maniacal laugh coming from the rooftops and quickly descended, letting her phone call go. They scout the town until they saw her coming towards them. It was Rena Rouge. 

“I came as quickly as I could.” Rena said. “Where…” they could hear the laughter again coming from an adjacent rooftop.

“You will never be as powerful as me, Rena Rouge.” The voice came from the supervillain Vulpin. 

“You’re just a bad copy from an old book.’ Cat yelled back. The three stood on the rooftop ready for whatever she would send their way. 

“Hawk Moth will give me any power I want,” She sang into the air. 

“Hawk Moth?” the three said together. In an instant, the maniac was gone. She was just another illusion. The three separated, agreeing to meet up later to discuss what just happened. 

“Felix?” Marinette asked as they sat on the couch in his room. “I hate to think he is Hawk Moth, but…”

“It fits. I mean he was the last one to have the broach, he disappeared before the end of the tempest battle, and…” 

“He’s been missing ever since.” Marinette finished. 

“I uh, had someone make up the next room for you…”

“OH…” Marinette folded an arm over her chest draping her hand on her shoulder. “Okay.” 

“I mean, you said…” Adrien scratched the back of his neck for a minute as he stood up looking at his childhood bed. They had slept together before, but it wasn’t a regular thing. He stripped off his t-shirt and tossed it on the floor. Looking back down at her as she sat on the couch. Her face slowly turned up as her eyes traced the lines on his belly to the lines on his chest. Her face glowed brightly until they locked eyes. 

“Well?” He offered her his hand. She took it as she stood up. He guided her to his bed. He pulled back the blankets on the side she normally slept on and pulled her to it laying her down. They had already put on their pajamas, however, he liked to sleep with as little on as possible when he slept alone. However, with her in his bed, he didn’t trust his own self-control without a few layers between them.

She clung to his hand as he stood at the side of the bed. He dove over her making the bed bounce. She giggled as he playful rolled around messing up the blankets. She scruffed his wild blond hair before he straightened himself laying his head on the pillow only centimeters from her face.  

“Silly Kitty.” Marinette rolled to her side and faced him. 

“I hope this doesn’t BUG you.” he played. 

“You’re imPAWsible.” she giggled. He loved it when she used cat puns. He kissed her lips as his hand weaved through her hair. He pulled her into him as her hands wrapped around his waist, throwing one leg over him. She maneuvered her body till he was on his back with her straddling him. He shuddered as he felt her warmth on him. Her kiss, hungry for his. 

His hands held her at her hips as her chest lay flatly on his, her hands now in his hair. Oh, if only he had his Cat suit on. It enhanced all of his senses and was the kind of protection he needed right now to give him the resolve to not go too far. He twitched his fingers into her sides tickling her in hopes of breaking this hold, knowing he didn’t have the will to stop it. She began to squirm on him. Her hips moving from side to side as they rubbed on his…. He gasped. Had he known she would move like that he would have thought twice about it. 

“Adrien.” She stopped to look at his face. She must have seen the look on his face as she settled down putting all of her weight onto his hips. Suddenly she shot up on her knees lifting her weight from him. He gripped her hips so she wouldn’t go too far. 

“Shh.” He brought one hand up to her face cupping it gently before bringing it to meet him. Their lips locked again as she settled herself back down to his hips. Her face had brightened to a red he had never seen before and it broke him, he didn’t think he had the will to stop. Suddenly there was a noise at the window. They both jumped from bed to see what it was. The light in the bedroom blocked out the view of the darkened city outside. Adrien ran to the switch, turning the light off. There was a figure standing on the rooftop across the street, someone was watching them. They ran to the window but the figure ran from the rooftop. 

Marinette sat on the bed shivering. Adrien put his arm around her trying to comfort her. 

“Someone was watching us.” She squeaked embarrassed at the compromising position they had been seen in. “Were they taking pictures?” That is certainly what the sound was, a camera click without a flash. Adrien often kept the window open but he closed it and set the lock. He noticed something attached to the window. A note. Attached to a suction dart clung to the window. 

‘Enjoy what you have now

Before I take it all

YOU WILL BE MINE!

“What is it?” Marinette asked from the bed. He handed her the note. She dropped it the instant her eyes saw the words. A shriek left her mouth. “Do you think it was meant for you or me?” Adrien looked back at the window. 

“If it was Vuplina.” He paused.

“Then it was meant for you.” Marinette finished. “Lila has always wanted you, and would do anything to get rid of her competition.” 

“What do you say? We check out the room across the hall, the windows there are less visible to outsiders.” He took her hand and led her across the hall. 

Marinette left the house before Adrien woke up. She had spent all morning searching the internet for someone. Alix wasn’t in France anymore, in fact she was participating in extreme sports in Florida. Marinette pulled out the horse miraculous and merged it with Tikki. She used a portal to plop herself into Alix’s bedroom. She was still asleep but at least she was alone. Pegabug woke her up. Alix sat up rubbing her eyes trying to make out the figure before her. 

“Is it time?” Alix asked as she sat up. 

“I think it is, Someone has the Butterfly Miraculous, and now Vulpina is back.” Alix was suddenly awake. She remembered how much chaos the illusionist caused especially during Heros day. “I think you will know when to use this.” She handed her the pocket watch then went over the instructions for how to use the Kwami’s power after introducing her to Fluff again. 

“Should I come back to Paris?” Alix asked. 

“I think you will be fine, better safe to keep your distance, just monitor everything from here.” Pegabug then made another portal. Good thing she had built up the strength to use her power more than once before needing to recharge. She returned to the manor and found Adrien standing in front of her. 

“Did you give Alix the bunny?” He asked. Pegabug released her transformation and nodded. “Good, we need to call Luka.” He said picking up his phone.

“NO, we need to call EVERYONE.” Marinette said. “NO one but us can know about Alix. and only because you have known as long as I have that she would one day be Bunnyx.” Adrien called Luka while Marinette and Alya. They were calling a team meeting at the one place Lila didn’t know about. The Barge. 

The band was playing by the time Adrien and Marinette arrived. They had to stop by the bakery to make sure the girls weren’t causing too much trouble. Luka, Juleka, Rose and Ivan jammed out a beat as Mylene, Zoe, Alya, Nino, Max, Kim, and Kagami, sat at the tables. The music died down as the band set their instruments aside. 

“Shall we all go downstairs.” Luka walked everyone inside. The Living room area was large enough for the whole group with a large sectional style couch wrapping around the wall leaving a large enough area for the band to practice if they chose too. Everyone but Marinette and Adrien sat down. 

“We have an announcement to make.” Adrien started, his arm around Marinette’s shoulders. “We are getting married.” 

“Finally.” the whole group said together as they all began to mutter amongst themselves about how long it had taken for them to finally see the moon through the stars. Something that was so obvious, that everyone else seemed to know but they were always too blinded by the stars to see it. Adrien could feel the heat in his cheeks as a shy smile spread on his face. He was still kicking himself for being so oblivious of Marinette in high school. He knew she liked him, but thought it was only his model status and her desire to become a designer, nothing more. She never thought she was good enough for him. 

“That isn’t the only news.” the crowd hushed as Marinette spoke up. “Mylene wasn’t the first of us to receive the Mullo, the mouse miraculous, I was.” Marinette confessed. Alya, Luka and Adrien were the only ones to know the truth of this group. So keeping Ladybugs secret was imperative. 

“And I am Aspik, I held Sass before Luka did.” He said with a shy smirk. “I wasn’t very good at it, but I am close friends with Chat, we play video games together and…” 

“Talk about how horrible the rich boy's life is together?” Luka jokes. “You rich boys were probably skiing in the Alps.” 

“Wait, Cat Noir is rich?” Ivan asked. 

“Richer than I am.” Adrien confessed scratching the back of his neck. 

“Ladybug and Cat Noir found us this morning, they had followed a suspicious person to our window. Where they found this.” Marinette helped up the note. 

“So it was Vulpina.” Alya said. The group began to mutter worried about the illusions that nearly ruined everything for everyone. 

“Who is Vulpina anyway?” Kim asked. 

“Lila.” Marinette said. “The master of Lies and illusions.” Shock fell on the faces of the group. They had all believed her lies and coddled her even against Marinette who they all agreed was the most honest of them all. 

“We will all stand together again.” Luka stood up putting his fist into the center of the room. Zoe and Juleka joined him. Kim, who was always up for a competition, was next. Soon everyone stepped in as Adrien and Marinette refrained. “Get in here.” Luka smiled knowingly at them. They added their fists to the bump.

#miraculous fandom #ladynoir #miraculous chat noir #adrienette #miraculous ladybug #marichat #miraculous world #felix graham de vanily #adrien agreste #Adrien Graham De Vanily #vulpina #hawk moth #miraculous luka #luka couffaine #rose x juleka #king monkey #purple tigress