#this fic gave me so much trouble it’s not even funny

[pinkthrone445]

-Abbott's house- Part 2

Part 1

Pairing:Melissa Schemmenti x Reader

Gender:Fluff, funny, soft

Warnings:none(?) future smut

Summary:The district gives the school the idea of spending a month living together to strengthen bonds, you never thought that would change your relationship with some so much.

Hi! This is an interactive story, if some thinks about something funny that one of the people of Abbott would be like to do, and you would like me to introduce it in the second part of the fic, you can leave it on the comments. I hope you like this part! Thanks for your coments!

It had been a couple of days since you had slept with Melissa, and instead of you stopping thinking about it as time went on, your desire to sleep with her again and feel her warmth near you only grew, it had been years since you had had such a perfect and peaceful night's sleep.

When the weekend came, some planned to go home on their days off to visit relatives, Barbara would see her husband again, and Mr. Johnson would see a son he had, which you were very surprised to learn that he was a father. Mel decided to stay since she had nothing else to do, just like you, Jacob, Janine, and Gregory. Ava said she was going to see her boyfriend and that it was forbidden to enter her room.

Jacob, Janine, and Gregory planned to go to a bar, but you didn't feel like it, so you decided to make other plans. Mel didn't want to leave you alone, so she decided to stay with you without knowing what she was getting into.

As night came, you started to pack your bag to go out, Mel sat on her bed watching what you were doing

-"Are you going to tell me where we're going to go?" - she asked, and you shook your head, laughing at her annoyed face

-"To a mall that I saw online..."-You muttered, hiding the true purpose, Mel decided to go along with you even though she knew you were lying.

When everything was ready, the two of you got into Melissa's car, you gave her the address, and you let her drive.

When you arrived at the location you gave her, the two of you got out of the car and she didn't hesitate to take your hand, which made you smile as you felt how well your hand fit hers and how her warmth always balanced your cold hands.

-"This doesn't look like a mall, I'm afraid you'll abandon me here..."-She muttered and you laughed, it wasn't a mall, but if you told her where you were going, maybe she wouldn't want to, yso you wanted to save yourself that trouble. As she entered the building, Mel understood why you had been so vague with what you were telling her. It was a skating rink, which she didn't know how to do and probably would have refused to come if you had told her, but seeing your excited face to be there, she decided to stay.

-"Let's go rent some skates!" - You screamed and tugged at her hand. Once ready, you entered the skate rink but the redhead wouldn't let go of your hand-"Do you want me to get you a walker to help you keep your balance?" - You asked truthfully and she shook her head laughing out of nervousness and embarrassment

-"I'm not a child, I can do it alone" -she muttered stubborn

-"If you say so" - You let go of her hand and started skating around her , twirling and doing little pirouettes

-"How are you so good at ice skating?" - She murmured in surprise and annoyed without moving from the spot, she looked like a cat near the water with how tense she was

-"A friend taught me... It's nice, give it a try!" - You screamed excitedly and skated a little farther away from her

-"Don't abandon me, please" - She whispered, embarrassed that she couldn't take a single step alone

-"I thought you could do it alone... Do you want me to push you?" - You asked with wickedness in your laughing voice, if your face was an emoji at that moment, it would be the devil smiling

-"No! Don't even think about it! I'll take off my skates and kick your ass... Come here and hold my hand" -She demanded and you came over laughing and let her put her hands around your arm, starting to skate gently with her

-"Thank you for coming with me Mel... I know this is not your first choice of activity... But I love to skate and I wanted to share it with you... Form a good memory together" - You whispered and felt her grip on your arm grow tighter

-"It's okay, it's more fun than I thought... Besides I like knowing what you like and what you don't... Like scary movies, maybe I'll use that to my advantage while we're here so we have to sleep together again" - She joked and you laughed a little, blushing.

For a while the two skated talking about a couple of things, sharing anecdotes and jokes until it was time to close so you had to leave. You carefully guided Mel, who hadn't let go of your arm in all this time, to the edge of the rink and made her sit down so she could remove her skates. Carefully you knelt in front of her and untied the shoelaces

-"I can do it hon" - She murmured, looking at you and you nodded

-"I know you can do it, but I want to help you anyway"-You responded by carefully removing her skates and putting her shoes on, when you looked up, the redhead was looking at you with something hidden behind her eyes, a look you couldn't quiet decipher, it was as if her gaze let out words that her lips couldn't say yet.

-"Thanks hon" - She whispered with a different tone in her voice, one you hadn't heard before

-"You are welcome Mel..."-You whispered as well, mesmerized by her eyes. After a few more seconds, you cleared your throat looking away from her and changed your own shoes.

The return home was peaceful, the comfortable silence was filled by soft music as you looked at the street lights with a smile that you couldn't wipe off your face.

-"Are you okay hon?" - Mel's voice brought you back to the present, and you nodded

-"Yes... It was a beautiful night, I enjoyed it a lot... It's been a while since I've had such a good time, I wish nights like this lasted a little longer..."-You muttered without thinking and looked out the window again after smiling at her

-"We're in no hurry to go home" - She replied and you looked at her confused

-"What do you mean?" -You frowned more

-"I mean the night isn't over yet, are you hungry? - She consulted smiling at you and you nodded

-"I could eat"-You answered, and at that very moment, the redhead changed the course she was driving in and headed to a drive-thru to order food. Without consulting you, she ordered your favorite food as if she had known it for years, which surprised you, then she ordered for herself and paid-"How do you know what my favorite food is?" - You asked, still surprised, and she laughed

-"Because I pay attention to you, whenever you bring this food to work, you do a little dance of happiness"-she muttered and you blushed. Instead of giving you your food on the spot, she kept driving to a secluded spot where there were almost no lights.

-"Mel? What are we doing? Are you going to give me my last meal and then you're going to kill me?" - You joked and she laughed, shaking her head

-"No...I just want you to keep enjoying the night" - The redhead opened the glass of the car ceiling and told you to look through it, as there were no lights nearby, the stars were seen in their maximum splendor and the moon looked bigger than ever. Mel took the food and gave you your share smiling-"Enjoy" - She whispered, caressing your hand and you stopped seeing the sky to see her in her eyes

-"Perfection..."-You whispered, not quite sure if you meant it because of the beauty of the stars or because of her beauty, everything was perfect, specially her.

As you ate, music played softly in the background, your chest brimming with calm and happiness.

When you finished, a soft and fresh air began to run, as the roof was open, a shiver ran through your body. Mel carefully leaned back your seat and hers and then covered you with her coat, the position you were in, was perfect for continuing to gaze at the stars. The redhead grabbed her cell phone, put it in the car and started playing your favorite series and then leaned back in her seat again. Silently and delicately you reached for her hand and intertwined your fingers with hers without saying anything else, the caresses she began to give in your hand, relaxed you even more.

From the moment you arrived at that house you didn't know what was going on, but you liked to enjoy the attention that Mel gave you. At school you were friends, but not to this point of trust that you were having right now.

When the second episode started, the redhead noticed that you had fallen asleep holding her hand, smiled at how cute you looked, stopped the series that was playing. She carefully buckled you up and then drove slowly home.

When you got home, Melissa saw that Jacob's car was already at the driveway, meaning they already had comeback from the club.

You were deep asleep in the passenger seat, lying and facing the same side that Mel was driving, the redhead turned off the car and stared at you for a few seconds, your breathing was calm and you looked happy even in your sleep, your lips were slightly parted and your hand was touching slightly her leg. You looked so peaceful and beautiful, your lips soft, soft, plump and ready to kiss. The redhead began to lean gently towards you, almost brushing her lips against yours. Your breath tickled her face as she checked to see if you were really asleep. When she was about to connect her lips with yours, Jacob ran out of the house smiling in relief at the sight of Melissa's car, the young man glued himself to the window of the car screaming, not knowing that you were asleep because of the tinted windows

-"Melissa! Help us! Jeannine it's trying to cook!!"-His screams caused you to wake up scared and startled, almost hitting Melissa because of how close she was to you

-"Hey! Hey hon, it's okay, you're safe, it's just Jacob being Jacob" - The redhead took your hands gently and caressed them, making you soothe a little, then she kissed your forehead and the tip of your nose making you laugh a little lost and sleepy-"That's it... That's better sweetheart... Jacob we will be there in a minute" - she told your housemate and helped you put on her jacket before getting out of the car with you.

Upon entering, Mel thought you were going straight to the room to continue sleeping, but instead you stayed by her side

-"Don't you want to sleep anymore? When I'm done cooking something for them, I'll go to the room... I don't want to risk Janine burning down the house for trying to cook..." - She murmured and you laughed as you sat at the counter watching her cook

-"I'll wait for you, I don't like to be in the room alone" - You murmured and hugged yourself with the redhead's jacket you were wearing, taking advantage and breathing in her perfume.

While Mel cooked, she would treat you to small bites on your lips to get your opinion on whether there was anything more to the plate. When the food was ready, you and Mel went to the dorm room. Mel was about to lie down on her bed when she heard your soft voice inviting her to sleep with you, which she couldn't say no to and crossed over to your bed hugging you and giving you warmth, helping you sleep better.

#melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti soft #melissa schemmenti smut #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti #melissa schemmenti abott elementary #abott elementary #abott elementary fanfic #abbot elementary #abbott elementary fanfic #abbott elementary #lisa ann walter #lissa ann walter #lwl #pinkthrone445

[sweetfushi]

Hii! Im not sure if you have any request rules, but i was wondering if you could write fic of a platonic father Aizawa in which his teen daughter pranks him saying she is prengant?

Thankss, hope you have a nice day 🤍🩷

SYNOPSIS. his daughter pranking him by saying she’s pregnant.

TAGS. aizawa x reader.

NOTES. hi my love, thank you for your request. for future reference, my request rules can be found here, but your request aligns with them, so here you go (i hope you have a nice day too) <3.

Aizawa is lounging on the couch with an arm over his irritated eyes. His day was demanding, more than usual, and he has his dry, red eyes to show for that. He needed to go out and get some more eyedrops - a task that he decided could be done later during the week.

"Dad!" He hears his daughter rush down the stairs and walk into the living room. He hums in response, too tired to formulate sentences. Aizawa feels her lean over him and stare at his exhausted expression, causing him to flutter his eyes open. His daughter's eyes are just like his - dark yet holding underlying tenderness.

"Look," she starts, straightening her posture and picking at her nailbeds. "I have something to tell you. And–" she sighs, "I need you to hear me out before reacting."

Aizawa's brow furrows at his daughter's tone. She's only a teenager. What could be troubling her so? Most importantly, what is it for her to assume that he'd react badly? He inhales deeply, clears his throat and sits up on the couch. You're out in Tokyo, spending some time with a few friends, so it's his full responsibility to ensure his daughter is alright.

"First off, are you in trouble with anyone?" He asks, trying to determine whether or not he needs to reassure her safety. At her age, she's much more susceptible to victimisation, whether being targeted by petty criminals or established, high-profile villains.

"No, I'm fine," she shakes her head and sits down beside him. Aizawa has noticed that her hair has started to look more like his - shaggy but not necessarily unkempt. It started to look messier from how much she was running her hand through it.

"Look, Dad, I know I'm only 16," she breaths out, mindful of how she comes across. She doesn't want this prank to drag on, so she's determined to make sure it's only a funny joke before it evolves into anything more. "But something happened."

Aizawa doesn't say anything, but she takes that as her signal to continue. "I've been... exploring myself, as girls my age do," she glances at Aizawa as he crosses his arms. "And I got involved with a boy–," She's cut off when Aizawa groans.

"Don't tell me what I think you're going to. I swear, if you're pregnant, you should've picked a better time to tell me," he presses his fingers to his forehead and exhales deeply, frustration evident. When his daughter lowers her head and winces, Aizawa almost hopes that the universe would knock him out then and there.

The silence between them is deafening, but Aizawa isn't sure whether he's disappointed in his daughter's irresponsibility or worried about her wellbeing. A bit of both. Aizawa mumbles incoherently, continuing to massage his head and push his hair out his face, even rolling his sleeves to cool his heated skin.

"You need to tell your mother," he states. "But not like this. When she comes back, you need to sit her down and ease her into this."

D/N nods. She suddenly feels the tension in the room and the possibility of having tainted her father's trust burdens her. She bites her bottom lip and picks at her nailbeds again. When he goes to get up to the kitchen, she grabs his arm. "It's a prank. I'm not pregnant," she admits, smiling sheepishly. "I'm sorry."

Aizawa observes her expression and almost collapses from relief. He throws himself back on the couch and closes his eyes again. "Is this another trend on social media? Not all trends need to be indulged in, you know," he huffs. "Damn near gave me a heart attack," he admits, pulling her into his embrace and pressing a kiss to temple.

"I have to get you back for that."

#whoops this is longer than i expected #mha #bnha #mha x reader #bnha x reader #shouta aizawa x reader #bnha headcanons #bnha fics #mha headcanons #mha fics #shouta aizawa #aizawa x reader #mha fluff #bnha fluff #shouta aizawa fluff #shouta aizawa headcanons

[potofstewie]

Approval? Not a Chance

Hey y'all! This is one (3/5) of my submissions for @renhoeku's Rengoku Birthday Month Collab. If you wish to join, then please check out their post regarding the collab! This fic was somewhat inspired by THG:Catching Fire. I wanted to write about Kyojuro from a slightly outside perspective using reader and Shinjuro.

Things to know: angst to comfort, established relationship, platonic!Shinjuro

W/C: 3.1k

not proofread and uploaded at 2am so i apologize for any mistakes

Kyojuro anxiously fidgeted with the hair tie in his battle worn hands, his worry filled gaze looking in the mirror. Today was a very special day, an extremely special day. Today was the day that Kyojuro Rengoku, your loving and wonderful boyfriend, would finally introduce you to his family. 

Finally putting his hair into a neat ponytail after three failed attempts, your boyfriend sighed softly; wondering how the day would go. He knew that Senjuro would love you, he’d always ask about you in his letters while Kyojuro was away or pester him when he was home. Senjuro was fine. The issue resided in his father. He had brought you up only three times to his father in the past; the first time was to ask for advice on how to ask you out which didn’t turn out too well. All his father said before turning his back to him was a simple yet stern, “My advice? Save her the trouble of dealing with you.” 

The second time was when he informed his father about his successful mission in calling you his girl. The Rengoku senior’s response? “She must be stupid.” It took a bit of willpower and strength for Kyojuro to stop his hand from connecting with his father’s face. The third and final time? Just yesterday when he told him about you coming over to meet. As per usual, his father’s response was nothing but negativity. “Don’t embarrass her, Kyojuro.” 

Whatever that meant. 

With that thought, Kyojuro huffed in slight annoyance as he smoothed out his hakama. He didn’t expect his father to be the cheerful and passionate man he once was, he didn’t expect him to converse with you as if you were his very own daughter. All he wanted, truthfully and realistically, was for his father to say a short greeting and go back to his room. “It’ll be fine. She’ll be fine. I’ll be fine, we’ll be fine.” Kyojuro muttered softly as he watched his eyebrows relax in his reflection, thinking back to when you told him that his eyebrows were one of your favorite things about his body. 

A soft knock resounded on his door, the even softer voice of his brother followed. “Anuie, um, are you ready?” Dear, Kami-Sama. This was the fifth time today that Senjuro had asked him if he was ready, the first time waking him up from his sleep. Kyojuro beamed as he opened the door, incandescent eyes drinking in his brother’s contained excitement that filled his face. He loved his brother, and he absolutely loved how much he loved you. Even though Senjuro only knew you from his letters, it was obvious just how much you meant to his little brother. Senjuro would often dream of you, hugging him and brushing his hair; all the motherly things he didn’t get to experience. 

“Now,” Patting Senjuro’s head, he walked past his brother and closed the door, “I’m ready.” A giant smile instantly grew on Senjuro’s face as he followed his older brother to the front gate, happiness radiating off of his small frame. As Kyojuro fixed the zori on his feet, Senjuro gave him a small blue box; golden koi fish and cranes decorated it. 

“This is for her, Anuie. Make sure to not eat it before you get there.” Senjuro warned, evoking a hearty laugh from his Anuie. Senjuro didn’t understand what was so funny. He was finally gonna meet you and he wanted to make a good first impression but his brother thought this was a laughing matter! 

“I feel like you’re more excited today than me, Senjuro. If I wasn’t so wise I’d even say you’d wanna date her!” Seeing Senjuro’s face dawn a bright red shade, Kyojuro folded his arms in amusement and understanding. “Don’t worry, she already thinks highly of you. And I’ll make sure to not eat your gift. I promise.” 

Senjuro simply nodded before shooing his brother onto the street. “J-Just hurry up, I still have a lot to do in the kitchen.” And with his brother’s final words, Kyojuro embarked on his journey to your house, heart fluttering with both excitement and worry with each step. 

Shutting the door behind his brother, Senjuro released a small sigh, anxiety running through his veins. He truly wanted today to go well, he didn’t want you to run off at the sight of their broken family. Turning around, Senjuro jumped in surprise as he saw his father lean against the wall, sharp eyes gazing at the door. “Father, you startled me, I didn’t expect you to be there.” 

“She should just dump him.” He said gruffly, crossing his arms. Senjuro blinked, taken aback by his father’s words. 

“What- do you mean, Father?” He inquired, nervous hands gripping his hakama. Shinjuro grunted before walking off. 

“She’d be better off if she stopped wasting her time with him. All he’ll do is bring her down.” Was all he said to a shocked and albeit hurt, Senjuro. He knew about the opinions his father held against his sons and was familiar with them every time he went on a drunken spiel, but to hear him say that regarding his older brother’s lover was something he didn’t expect. Sighing and walking towards the kitchen, Senjuro just hoped his father was wrong and that things would work out.

Kyojuro  released a soft chuckle at the scene that unfolded before him. Next to him on the edge of the engawa, you looked at Senjuro with so much patience and care as he stuttered in trying to converse with you. His face was beet red as he tried to share with you his hobbies, the boy’s eyes looking anywhere but you. You, on the other hand, thought it was all adorable; seeing a miniature Kyojuro all bashful and shy, the complete opposite of the actual Kyojuro. 

The day so far had gone as smoothly as any of you had hoped for. Although you were a bit disappointed in not meeting Kyojuro’s father, you did understand their situation and sympathized; who wouldn’t go in a depressive state after losing the love of their life? In fact, if you were being absolutely honest, you’d probably be stuck in such a state if Kyojuro died. Then again, you were also a bit grateful that he hadn’t appeared all now; the memories of Kyojuro informing you of his father’s stern demeanor entering your mind. 

Taking another sip of his tea, Kyojuro watched with love filled eyes as you softly reassured Senjuro and patted his head; the young boy nearly crumbling at the action. He knew the two of you would get along perfectly, but not this perfect. You being in the Rengoku estate was like a new light had entered a dark and damp cave, warming up the cold earth. For the first time in a long time, his home felt full, complete, put back together. 

“Y-Yes but if I had to choose, pickled plums would be- father!” Senjuro’s explanation was cut short as the abrupt arrival of their father sucked out the air around you, the once engulfing warmth being replaced with mind numbing coldness. Kyojuro whipped his head around to see a look of absolute disapproval in his father’s sharp features; his eyes looking at his eldest before resting on your now nervous façade. Standing up, you wiped your hands on your kimono before bowing. 

“Rengoku-Sama, i-it’s a pleasure to finally meet you. I am-” Your nervous introduction was cut short by Shinjuro, his battle worn hand raising itself to stop you. Your breath hitched at his motion, what if he already hated you? Was it because you wore the wrong attire? Or was it simply because he was one of those old men that didn’t think those younger than them should speak out of turn? Oh, Kami-Sama, you thought. Just let him be upset at my attire and nothing else. 

“I know who you are. I’m only telling you this for your own good; you’re making a mistake.” He stated, sharp incandescent eyes swimming with multitudes of emotion. As you slowly processed his cryptic words, you began to dissect the mixed look he gave you. His face carried nothing but annoyance but his eyes, his eyes held worry, nostalgia and..sorrow? What did he mean by this? Surely, he meant that it would be a mistake to love someone with a higher, more noble status than you, right? Sucking air through your teeth, you watched as Kyojuro asked the very question on your mind, confusion and barely hidden hurt laced in his eyes. 

“What do you mean, Father?” He asked in an abnormally soft voice, searching for any hint or answer in his father’s features. He didn’t understand. His father barely knew you, just your name and that you make his son trip over his own feet and disrupt his concentration breathing by giving him a simple smile. You held so much power over him and that wasn’t a bad thing, right? His father was like that when his mother was alive, hell he was probably a bigger love-sick fool than he let on. 

“I meant what I said. She should be smart enough to figure it out. You know what we are, don’t you y/n? You understand perfectly and you’d be a fool to do anything but follow my words.” He said gruffly, eyes searching your face for the moment you figured it out; the moment you met him on the same wavelength. Without waiting for a proper response or question from any of you, Shinjuro left the engawa, leaving behind the three of you in a perplexed stupor. 

With a slight frown, Kyojuro stood up and bowed. “I’m really sorry, y/n. My father he- you shouldn’t take his words to heart, he’s just-” Sighing and admitting defeat for lack of reasoning, he sank down to the wooden floor once more, a reassuring smile on his lips and saddened eyes resting on the sunset before turning to you, rough hands encasing your own. “I just didn’t think he’d leave his room. But never mind that, I should take you back home now, before it gets dark.” 

You gave him a slight nod and that soft smile he absolutely adored, your heart banging with twinged sorrow and hope. At least he didn’t think lowly of you and went into a drunken rage. Senjuro rested his hand on your shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. “Anuie is right, father’s words can get a bit jumbled up when he's not all there. I’ll go pack you some snacks to bring home.” Shooting a narrowed gaze at his elder brother, his next words were laced with a cold warning. “Do not eat them on the way there, Anuie.” Hissing his words to his older brother, Senjuro quickly left for the kitchen, his eyes not leaving his brother until he was out of view. 

Chuckling, Kyojuro rubbed the back of his neck. “He really does cherish you, I’d say he likes you a bit more than me!” You released a quick, short breath, humoring your boyfriend’s comment as your mind traveled elsewhere. You knew what his family was, what they were known for by those who did the same line of work. You knew and saw the potential dangers Kyojuro’s occupation entailed; evident by the couple of nights he would stumble into your home battered and bruised. You thought it was amazing and down right inspirational, seeing your boyfriend carry the torch from his father and ancestors with pride and dignity. At times you even envied him, possessing practically unlimited stamina and burning passion to fight for the weak. 

Getting up, Kyojuro outstretched his hand for you to take, helping you up with ease. “Let’s get going, Sunflower. I can carry you all the way home if you wish.” Kyojuro ushered, gently pulling you along but stopping as he felt you stay in place. You had a hunch, based on Shinjuro’s words. He was a stern man, and from what Kyojuro had said about him from when he was a child, one that upheld a code of honor and justice. He and his wife were together for a while, managing to have two wonderful children in their time. His mother must’ve fretted over her husband every time he was out on a mission. Could that be the reasoning behind Shinjuro’s cryptic yet crystal clear words? Was he asking you to not be worried over his son?

“Kyojuro, wait, please.” You said, your short spell of silence finally broken. With a cocked eyebrow, Kyojuro looked at you with curiosity and tender love.

“Hm? What is it?” You let go of his hand as you dithered, the warmth leaving your hands as you were unsure how your request would come off. 

“I wish to speak to your father,” Kyojuro’s face quickly morphed into one of utter confusion and bewilderment. “It’s just for a moment and then we can go.” You bit your lip as you watched the gears in your boyfriend’s head turn, clearly thinking hard about his answer. “Just show me to his room, I want to talk to him about something important.” 

“Regarding his words?” Kyojuro asked as you nodded quickly to his question. Looking down the corridor his father disappeared down, he sighed softly. “Alright, I’ll take you to him. But, I cannot predict anything he says so if he says anything brash, just ignore it.” He complied, grabbing your hand again before guiding you down the darkening hallway. Stopping in front of the closed screen door, Kyojuro knocked on the wood. 

“Father, y/n would like to say goodbye before we leave.” Opening the door, Kyojuro revealed to you a depressing scene; his father sitting and facing the darkening sky, his back being the only thing greeting you both. Entering the room, you shut the door behind you, a quiet yet clear signal that what you had to say was between you and his father.

Sitting down at the door, your senses soaked in the lingering scent of sake and the chill of the room. For a few pensive moments, it was silent. Shinjuro didn’t turn around as you shuffled closer and closer, finally stopping next to him. “Rengoku-Sama?” You called as you watched his sharp eyes continue to gaze out, not bothering to give you any attention. “Rengoku-Sama, you’re concerned, aren’t you? Concerned about me and how I’d manage if Kyojuro die-”

“When he dies. When.” He corrected quickly. “The damned idiot is destined to die early. It would’ve been one thing to die and not leave anyone that loves him behind but now you’re in the picture. And he’s an idiot for making you face such a possibility.” And with his last words, he looked at you, eyes swimming with sympathy. “I was an idiot for making Ruka worry every time I left, always waiting for a crow to tell her I died. I wouldn’t wish that on you. I don’t want that for you.” You blinked in slight shock, drinking in his words. “You seem like an alright person, someone that deserves the best, normal life possible. This isn’t normal. Having the one you love risk their life nearly every night fighting demons, isn’t normal.” He finished, fingers weaving and cracking themselves as he waited for your response. 

You had to admit, you thought about the daunting possibility of Kyojuro dying on a mission, worried to hear his crow tell you the news of him dying with honor. His work life wasn’t an ideal one, especially when considering the domestic dream you both shared. But, that’s also what you loved about him. How he was able to protect people from what goes bump in the night, to be able to stare right at the perpetrators of inhuman cruelty and live to tell the tale. How he managed to see terrifying scenes of men, women and children killed and blood splattered everywhere yet still uphold that tantalizing smile that seemed to warm everything around it. 

“I..understand what you mean.” You spoke softly, a small smile gracing your lips. “I get a bit afraid too whenever he’s away. I try not to think about it  but the fear is always there. I’ve also thought about the possibility of him dying as well and if I were to be honest, I might not take it too well.” Shinjuro’s eyes widened a bit, taken aback by your honesty. “However, I think that just goes to show how much I love him, don't you think? To love someone so much that them reaching the end of their short life span would be absolutely devastating. But, I think the manner in which he dies will make me feel very proud.” 

Your smile grew a bit wider as you looked out to the sky. “Kyojuro is a man who upholds a strong sense of duty and justice. He believes that protecting the weak from those that misuse their strength is his birthright and I admire him for that. He truly understands the weight his righteous mission brings on his shoulders. He appreciates the little things in life. So, for him to die in battle, would be the best way he could die.” Looking again at Shinjuro, you took in his slightly furrowed eyebrows; sake drenched mind trying its best to take in your words. “I’m okay, not being able to live a normal life with a normal man. I love the extraordinary aspects of life, I fell in love with an extraordinary man! And I wouldn’t trade that in for nothing.” 

Standing up, you brushed off your kimono, nimble fingers running over the detailed fabric. “Rengoku-Sama, thank you for being concerned about my future and worrying about what’s best for me. You truly are a nice person. But you needn’t worry anymore. I’ll be alright, I promise. Take care, now.” You said softly, finally leaving Shinjuro to his lonesome as you left the room. 

Hearing yours and Kyojuro’s footsteps recede down the hall, the elder Rengoku sighed, mulling over your endearing words about his son. He hadn’t really thought about it in that way; having death in battle be the most optimal and respectful end to his son’s life. Instead, he used to see it as a way to show how weak a slayer was, a way to show to the world how talentless the person was while alive. Shinjuro felt his lips curl ever so slightly at the thought of you. The once chilled room seemed to flood with embracing warmth as Shinjuro’s gaze fell on the lone headstone under the blue wisteria.

“Kyojuro really did choose a good one, right Ruka?”

ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ, ꜱᴛᴇᴀʟ, ʙɪɴᴅ ᴏʀ ʀᴇᴘᴏꜱᴛ ᴀꜱ ʏᴏᴜʀꜱ. ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜱ ɢᴏ ᴛᴏ ᴘᴏᴛᴏꜰꜱᴛᴇᴡɪᴇ™ 2023

Tags: @ledafox @yuuuriiinaa-chaaannn @gingerspicelattemix @mitsuris-pussy

#rengoku x reader #kyojuro rengoku x reader #rengoku kyojuro x reader #rengoku x y/n #kyojuro rengoku x y/n #rengoku kyojuro x y/n #rengoku angst #demon slayer rengoku #kny rengoku #original stew

[slvt4em1lyprenti2s]

Hi hi ! I was wondering if you would do Amelia Shepherd x fem reader fic where R is the third twisted sister to Cristina and Mer, Amelia and reader have been in a relationship in secret for a while because they afraid of Mer’s reaction. They finally tell her and she gets protective of R but at the end she is very supportive and protects them against a patient’s hate comment? Xoxo

You’re dating my sister?

Summary: see req above!

Pairings: Amelia Shepherd x fem!reader

fluff, slight angst, homophobia, use of a homophobic slur

Word Count: 1.04k

NOT PROOFREAD

SET WHEN MEREDITH DIDNT LIKE AMELIA MUCH IN THE BEGINNING

Reader pov:

One year. One whole year me and Amelia have been dating for. It’s crazy how fast time feels when you’re in love, I do t know what I’d do without her. The only issue is my best friends, Cristina and Metrdith. Not that I’m afraid of their answer, well. I’m not staid if Cristina’s answer.

Meredith’s husband happens to be my girlfriend brother. It’s a minor detail, and you know, Meredith isn’t the biggest fan of said sister. Me and ames have talked it over and we’re going to tell people soon, but leave Mer till last, what could go wrong right?

Cristina went wrong.

“Hey! Cristina!” I whisper yelled across the nurses station.

“If you have another twisted-sisters-almost-died-or-had-a-traumatic-event drama to tell me save it for after my surgery. Please.” She sighed out.

“No it’s not that I have to tell you something. But you can not, and I mean can not, tell mer.“ I insist

“Dann what did you do screw her sister or something?”

I stay silent at this and her eyes go wide. “Oh. My. God. No you did not.”

I nod my head profusely and respond “We’ve been dating for a year Cristina. Me and Amelia, what am I supposed to tell her?!” I start to panic just thinking about all the different ways this could go wrong.

“Ohh I have no idea! Good luck, you’re gunna need it, oh and tell me when you’re telling her so I can watch.” I rolled my eyes as she walked away from me towards the OR to scrub in.

I walk to my patients room pondering ways to tell mer about me and Amelia, it was going to be a long day.

Amelia pov:

“Derek! Come here!” I call out to him across the neuro floor.

“What do you need I’ve got a surgery with Yang in like, 2 minutes?” He says looking bored before I even start talking.

“Hey you could at least act interest in what I’m about to say, oh and don’t tell mer yet. Please.” His interest was piqued at this so he gave me a look as if to say ‘keep going you’ve got me hooked’ so I continued “Me and y/n have been dating for a year, and we are o my just telling people ad were scared how mer will react because she’s not exactly my biggest fan as of right now and her and y/n/n, and Cristina obviously, are like twisted sisters or whatever.” I took a breather after sayibg all that and my brother just looked like he wanted to laugh in my face.

“Well, good luck!” He smiled and walked off to the OR.

Well shit.

Reader pov:

I walk into my patients room still deep in thought when he speaks up, he’s fairly old, around 70-ish and was in for a broken hip. “You seemed pretty serious with whatever you were talking about back there and now I don’t even get a hello? Something’s gotta be on your mind Doctor.” He gave me a knowing smirk as I open my mouth yet no words come out and let out and exasperated sigh.

“Ah you know, trouble in paradise, well, paradise’s surroundings at least.” I say trying to be as brief as possible.

“Happens to the best of us kid.” He seemed like a genuinely nice guy and to be honest I needed a break so instead of getting a nurse to check his vitals I decided I was going to do them, although it seemed someone else had the same idea.

“Hey y/n/n what are you doing here?” I hear a voice I know all too well say from behind me.

“Hi Ames, just doing Mr Davison’s vitals, are you okay?” I say giving her a smile.

“Funny I was just coming to do the same thing.” she walked beside me and trailed her hand lightly over my lower back which didn’t go unnoticed by Mr Davison.

“Your ‘paradise’ is a she? Ugh just another dyke, exactly what we need!” I stare at him shocked, as does Amelia. His sudden outburst seemed to pull some attention from outside and the one person that I didn’t want to walked in, walked in.

“Is everything okay in here?” Meredith asked.

“No get these people away from me! Horrible people you lgqbt whatever people!” He flailed his arms about like a toddler as he was ranting and raving. Immediately Meredith jumped to our defence.

“Excuse you? Who do you think you’re talking to? I have you know you’ve just made and enemy out of the best neuro, general and ortho (sorry callie) in the state. It’s 2024 in the USA for gods sake, get a grip man!” With this she ushered us out of the room and then into an in call room so she could talk to us.

•

“YOURE WHAT?!” mer practically yelled

“Keep your voice down, yes we’re dating.” Amelia said to mer try help her keep her head on.

“Look Amelia, I love y/n with my whole heart she’s my sister okay? So, if you hurt her, break her heart or do anything to even slightly harm her, I will hurt you twice as much. She’s the best thing that’ll ever happened to you, so don’t screw it up okay?” My heart warmed after hearing just how much mer cared about me and that she would protect me but also slightly concerned she just threatened my girlfriend.

“Yes ma’am.” Amelia murmured clearly slightly intimidated by mer.

“Okay, now that that’s out the way, I’m so happy for you guys!” Me and Ames say thanks and mer’s oager goes off so she has to run so me and amy are left alone in the in-call room.

“I love you Amelia.” I say as I peck her lips and wrap my arms around her neck.

“I love you too y/n/n.” At this she pulled me into a passionate kiss and lowered us both down onto a bed.

When in an unoccupied on-call room…

#wlw #lesbian pride #wlw fanfic #lesbian #sapphic #wlw pride #greys anatomy fanfiction #greys anatomy #amelia shepard x reader #amelia shepherd x reader #amelia shepard #amelia shepherd #meredith grey #cristina yang #derek shepard #derek shepherd

[bluishfrog]

HAPPY 1-YEAR OF DRAWING ANNIVERSARY TO ME!

(Warning: slightly longer post incoming cause sometimes I gotta be a sentimental bitch ok? So let's go on a little trip down memory lane.)

This day, a year ago, I made my very first fanart. It was dnf (if that surprises you, then welcome to being on my blog for the very first time). I drew a little frog face too so I could use it as a watermark (fun fact: I still use that very same first one).

I immediately put my drawing up on twt because I told myself that I wasn't gonna be afraid of having people see that I was at the very beginning of this journey and had no clue what I was doing. That instead of being bad at art, I was gonna be awesome at being a beginner who doesn't know shit.

I started with little doodles and silly comics and then I laughed way too long when the first drawing of mine that gained some attention was a dnf butt joke. At the time I was trying to balance shipping and non-shipping art so I didn't even draw dnf that much but in hindsight it's probably the only possible way this could have gone.

At the very end of August I woke up to @honelle56 caps-locking at me in my messages - I was very confused and tired (I am no morning person and I will never be, fuck off with your mornings) because Dranart liked my drawing of singing Dream. Dranart was my 17th follower on twt which is a useless yet extremely funny fact about my time on that hellsite.

I also drew human!patches because a) patches was and will always be my favorite dteam member and b) it was a really cute trend and while I do love drawing dream, george and sapnap, I was also quite happy to try drawing anything but a white man for once. And I really liked how the drawing turned out.

Much, much later, I tried to draw my first slightly more realistic looking drawing. I was extremely confused on how to draw anything like this. Especially their hair gave me tons of trouble but given my experience, I think it's not a bad attempt.

When hijacked smp started I obviously wanted to participate, and I drew c!blu who doesn't associate with any side in particular but instead serves soup to everyone who visits her tavern 'The Soup House'. She also wants to be paid in stories from all around the map.

One of the events I was most excited about was dnf week. I even collaborated with two talented writers and I drew the corresponding art for two fics.

(Fun or not so fun fact: when twt had like three hundred collaborative aneurysms about the situation at that moment, that was when I created this tumblr account. I didn't use it super actively (I guess I needed another situation to fully make the switch) but I at least started the account that now developed quite a bit since then.)

I didn't really draw at all through January and February and I actually kinda thought I would move on from that hobby and fandom (not because of negative feelings, just because I didn't really have the urge to create anything within this fandom) and then situations happened and now I am here; and for some reason that is beyond any logic and my understanding I am now even more insane about dteam.

Wild to me but we are rolling with it now, I guess.

Since I got here, I drew more than ever (I actually think I might have made more drawings in the month since I got here than I made the whole rest of the year). There's just such an active and funny community here that cares about fan works for the sake of creating and not just because a CC might see it.

Unfortunately, Tumblr won't let me add more than 10 images in one post (maybe fortunately for everyone who has this monstrosity of a post on their dash). So if you want to see all the progress I made since I got here, you can look at everything in my art tag. For now, I will close this post with one of the art works from the past month that I like the most:

Can't wait to see what the next year might bring :)

Love, blu

#blu rambles #like a LOT #but if you made it to the end of this post you get a hug <3 #bluishfrog art

[multi-fandom-imagine]

Not that drunk || Daemon Targaryen ||

A/n: I am doing it!! Based off this. Writing this before I head into work { I got three hours }

Also this is a crack fic, Daemon is obviously gonna be out of character here.

You couldn’t help but feel giddy, you were finally were married to the man you loved. You were finally married to Daemon Targaryen. You would have never thought that a girl like you would, some commoner marrying a Prince. Shifting in your seat you noticed the man sipping on his wine. You weren’t quite sure how much he drank but you couldn’t help but find the expression on his face rather adorable.

“Careful love, you might fall asleep before he get the chance to even consummate our wedding.” You teased though the man let out a scoff. A slow smile forming on his face though it looked more of a smirk to you as he grasped your hand gently on his.

“You we’re not saying that a few nights ago love when you were screaming my name.”

Rolling your eyes you let the man kiss your hand before you pulled away. “I will be right back…please do not get yourself into any trouble Daemon.”

You weren’t gone that long, truly you just wanted to speak to Rhaenyra, you just did not think the man, your husband would be this intoxicated. Stepping close you watched as Daemon stumbled towards you. The expression would have been adorable if you were not concerned about your husband's wellbeing.

“Daemon are you alright?”

Blinking a few times, Daemon grasped your hand then pulled you too his chest. You felt his breath fan across your neck as the man gave it a small muzzle. “You are so beautiful, now tell me Y/n…do you have the attention of anyone.”

Blinking a few times you tried to register what Daemon had just said to you. Did he just ask if you were single, did he not know that you two were married or was he just that drunk?

Giving him a smile you placed your hand on his cheek. “I am afraid I am Daemon.” You teased though you never thought it would turn in a different direction.

You weren’t quite sure what made his lip trembled and you could have sworn you noticed something in the man’s eyes as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

Though it did not take long for you to feel the extra on your body.Harwin quickly rushing to your side taking the now unconscious man from your arms. “I will take him to your chambers my lady.”

A sigh left your lips as you tipped your head to the man. “Thank you.”

This was going to be an interesting morning, just we’re not sure how to explain this to your husband but luckily you did not have to.

•

When Daemon first awoke he expected for you to be naked by his side not Rhaenyra standing in the doorway. Wincing a scowl formed on his face as he did his best to push away the pounding in his head.

“Why are you here and where is Y/n?”

“She is taking care of Caraxe, though I must admit that seeing you intoxicated was rather a funny site.”

Scowling he turned his head away. “I was not that drunk last night.”

Raising her brows, Rhaenyra crossed her arms over her chest. “You were flirting with y/n.”

“She is my wife, I am allowed to flirt with her.” Daemon said threw his teeth, at the moment all he wanted to do was to see you.

“You had asked her if she was single, and then you cried then passed out in your arms when she said she was.”

Narrowing his eyes he tried to see if the young woman was lying though seeing the rather pleased look on her face he moved the sheets off quickly changing, not caring that his shirt was barley covering his chest.

“Where are you going?!” Rhaenyra called out to him.

“I am going to make up for my failed wedding night!”

#drabbles #drabble #daemon targaryen x you #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen #house of dragons x you #house of dragons x reader #house of dragons #house of the dragons x reader #house of the dragons #house of the dragon x y/n #house of the dragon x you #house of the dragon #game of thrones x y/n #game of thrones x you #game of thrones x reader #games of thrones #crack fic

[myheartalivewrites]

(Some of) My favourite fics of 2023

2023! What a year, eh? Jesus fucking Christ.

There's no way I can start this list without making a huge caveat: unlike last year, I have NOT read all the RWRB fics that have come out in 2023, not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all. There's just been SO MUCH, and I have in no way kept up.

Anyway. These are my favourite things that I HAVE read. Rules (because who am I if not an extremely organised rule follower?): fic has to have been published in 2023; no more than one per author (some of you gave me real trouble here). Last year I only let myself put five fics on the list, this year I’ve been slightly more generous. Here we go:

muscle memory by @dumbpeachjuice: (E, ~30k) pining while fucking so good it makes me a little bit insane.

Going Platinum by @cricketnationrise: (E, ~20k) OMG the camboy!Alex AU I never knew I needed.

With so much of my heart (that none is left to protest) by @kiwiana-writes: (E, ~65k) Shakespearean actors goodness!

Sweetheart Grips by @orestespdf: (E, ~13k) I am a little bit in love with trans Alex.

coyote ugly series (part 1 part 2) by @smc-27: (E, ~12k) *the rules are being bent, no one look over here. I'm already screaming at myself for not choosing the tennis AU or the stripper!Henry entry* Pining that's worth its weight in gold.

Taste the Way You Bleed by @cha-melodius: (T, ~4k) *again it pains me to not go with spy bois or cheesemonger Henry* The Halloween Huh! fic that nearly ended me in the best way. So funny I could scream.

The Edge of Glory by @historicallysam (T, ~10k) fantastic post-canon exploration of: what if Alex got asked to back into politics, after they've had a kid?

a rich and complex tapestry by @everwitch-magiks (E, ~9k) Henry hosts a radio show about sex and relationships, Alex fucks his way through his bisexual crisis. Delightful.

And of course I couldn’t leave out these babies I helped birth (gross, I beta read them):

Underground by @zwiazdziarka: (T, ~4k) If you love Labyrinth (and Henry in tights, which--who doesn't!) then I've got the fic for you!

why are you googling vampires? by @daisymae-12: (E, ~14k) vampire Henry goodness starring Twilight obsessed Alex

***

As for my favourite out of my own fics, I'm gonna go for an outlier: Down by the Water, I Saw You (E, ~63k). I love all my fics, and the numbers on some of the post-August 11 fics speak for themselves, but this one has my heart. The journey from sad/angry exes to trusting each other again and getting over all the past hurts; to being able to dig into their hearts and find that love that they'd both buried but never managed to get rid of. I wrote it because it was what I wanted to read and it still kills me. Of all my fics, it's the one I miss the most.

***

Thanks to all of you who've read my stuff, everyone who’s sent a nice comment or message my way; everyone who started reading RWRB fic this year, everyone who watched the film then found the book then turned to ao3 because they needed MORE. I know the feeling. What a ride it's been.

#rwrb fic rec #rwrb #red white and royal blue #rwrb fanfic #rwrb fics #firstprince #rwrb fanfiction #about me #ao3 wrapped #firstprince fic #2023 wrapped

[roseharpermaxwell]

RWRB FirstPrince Everything Else Fic Recs

These are some canon divergence, some sad things, unique things. Click below to see the favorites I couldn't fit anywhere else, but needed to share.

Can't Help Falling by beck17. G, 1.2k. “Since New Years?”

Henry asks the question so quietly, Alex almost didn’t hear it.

An idea sparked from the subtle look Henry gave Alex after the latter told Zahra their relationship had been going on since New Years.

We're all the way up by @clottedcreamfudge. T, 1.4k. "Just making sure you don't try to run the moment I bring up a very specific topic," Pez says lightly, hopping up onto a low table and swinging his legs like a child.

"The topic of me loosening up and attempting to have a good time at a party?" Henry asks blandly, and Pez rolls his eyes and sighs dramatically.

"The topic of you quite clearly sneaking off with dearest Alexander, presumably to do things I must immediately hear about in excruciating detail. Spare no expense in the retelling; I want to feel it."

I can't breathe, if you're not there by softcinnamonroll. T, 2k. One moment, Alex was laughing at some joke Henry had made, and then the next there was a loud noise from the TV and the livestream cut out, leaving Alex alone in their dark living room. At first, Alex was sure there had just been a power cut, or some technical difficulties that caused the stream to cut out, but then the messages and BREAKING NEWS notifications started pouring in.

BREAKING NEWS: Explosion at Prince Henry of Wales Charity Event. Casualties Unknown.

You Must Allow Me To Tell You by @everwitch-magiks. T, 2.4k. “I don’t suppose there's any chance you’d like to marry me, Alex?”

Alex blinks. Then he starts to grin. “Right. Funny. What were you actually gonna say?”

“... I wasn’t making a joke.”

Alex waits for a beat — there’s gotta be a punchline here somewhere — but it doesn’t come. Henry is still watching him expectantly. He looks terrifyingly sincere.

“You’re actually serious?”

“Yes.”

“You’re proposing to me?”

“I am, yes.”

“But you don’t even know me.”

“Astute observation.” Henry tilts his head to the side. “I can’t help but notice that you have yet to decline?”

Henry has a proposal. Alex has trouble remembering why he shouldn't accept.

It's Always One Step Forward, And Three Steps Back. by @alxclightwood. G, 2.8k. He was fine, he didn’t need to sleep.

He blinked several times, desperately trying to force his eyes open. But it was inevitable that there would come a time his eyes drifted closed, and didn’t open again.

What he didn’t anticipate however, was his blood sugars dropping whilst he slept, with no alarm to wake him to fix it.

you took the time to memorize me (my fears, my hopes, my dreams) by @coffeecatsme. T, 2.9k. “I know what you’re doing.”

Alex crosses his arms, arching his brow. Henry, to his credit, looks completely unimpressed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Really?” Alex wets his lips, enjoying Henry’s eyes following the movement, and lets a smile take over his face. He takes a step, closer to Henry, practically trapping him in front of the little coffeeshop.

“The ice skating,” Alex continues, taking another step, and he’s pretty much flush with Henry’s chest. Even though Henry tries to keep an impassive look, his eyes are glimmering under the afternoon light—he knows damn well what Alex is talking about. “The fire station. Indoor fucking skydiving.” He pokes Henry in the chest and grins. “You’re making my childhood dreams come true.”

Or, 4 times Henry makes Alex's childhood dreams come true, and 1 time he has to get creative.

Do we still have forever? by @hgejfmw-hgejhsf. M, 3k. Alex has a sudden, serious allergic reaction, and Henry can't help but think about losing him.

Powerless by floatingaway4. T, 3k. “Do you know what I’ve had to put up with in the last twelve hours?” 

Henry wants to point out that in that same twelve hours he’s had his body sliced open and an organ removed, but this doesn’t seem to be the time. He also got to sleep through his experience, while Alex was very much awake while dealing with Henry’s family. And Henry got the nice drugs, while Alex looks like he could use a drink.

hell was the journey but it brought me heaven by alec_rhee. E, 3.1k. While he was sitting in class and daydreaming about getting Henry naked the moment he got home, his phone vibrated wildly in his messenger bag. He heard the vibrations in class, and although his heart yearned for it to be Henry he knew it wouldn’t be him because his day was filled with meeting after meeting; the texts are most likely from Bug and Nora, he remembers thinking.

And well, he isn’t wrong. There are texts from June and Nora and none from Henry, but it’s the Google Alert –

BREAKING NEWS: PRINCE HENRY, BOYFRIEND OF FSOTUS ALEX CLAREMONT-DIAZ AND PRINCE OF WALES, INJURED IN CAR ACCIDENT

He reads the title of the article over and over and over again. He rubs his eyes and reads the title another three times.

This can’t be about my Henry, he thinks.

What I Need Tonight by @sparklepocalypse. E, 3.5k. It’s two in the morning on a Tuesday when the clatter of something hitting the bathroom floor startles Henry awake. At first, his groggy mind assumes it’s Alex – but then Alex snuffles in his sleep behind him and tightens his arms around Henry’s waist.

There’s another clatter, and then a shuffling noise, and Henry’s eyes widen. He reaches back and grabs Alex’s thigh, shaking him.

someday by rizcriz. T, 4k. “Where are you going?”

Henry freezes where he’s standing over his overnight bag, fingers still clasped around the tug on the zipper. His eyes slide closed of their own accord, dread pooling low in his gut. This was not how this was supposed to go. Alex is a deep sleeper, he should’ve been out the door and on a plane back to London long before he ever woke up. Not just for Henry’s sake, but for both of theirs.

This was not a conversation Henry wanted to have.

Or, Alex wakes up before Henry can sneak out.

i give you my heart (just to watch you waste it) by @villiageidiot. T, 4k. Henry moves to the U.S. when he’s ten years old. The very first time Alex finds him being picked on by some older students for sounding funny, everything changes. Alex shoves them to the ground, earns a detention, and becomes Henry’s best friend all in one fell swoop.

Well, they’re friends for Alex’s part.

For Henry, it’s always so much more.

(Five times fic wherein Alex never chooses Henry. Until he does.)

don't go where i can't follow by coffeecatsme. T, 4k. Henry turns away, hair silvery under the moonlight. He doesn’t even bother to look at Alex, and something like anger flashes in Alex’s gut when he sees him reach for his backpack, like it’s that easy to abandon Alex, like Alex didn’t bare his heart to him just a day ago. “You could’ve fucking said goodbye,” he whispers before he can think about it; his voice is quiet through the knot in his throat, yet it echoes in the room like a gunshot, stopping Henry in his tracks.

Alex wakes up at the lakehouse before Henry leaves.

All The Stars In The Sky by @absoluteaudacitywrites. T, 4k. Henry startles awake, blinking rapidly into the early morning gloom seeping into their bedroom and wondering hazily what woke him when two things become apparent.

One, Alex isn’t in bed with him.

Two, the sound coming from the bathroom is definitely what woke him and it is definitely Alex being quite violently sick.

you were more than just a short time by @hypnostheory. T, 4.2k. Alex leaves his mug on the porch railing. Inside the house is achingly hollow, an exhale with no inhale to follow. Alex feels like he can’t make a noise as he carefully pads back towards their bedroom. He pauses at their door, taking a steadying breath. He’s not as upset as he thought he’d be about this, having mentally prepared as the years ticked by and David grew older. Alex is okay.

Henry isn’t.

David the Beagle passes. Alex is there for Henry through his grief, and through the start of moving on

Tumbled Down and Tangled Up by @myheartalivewrites. E, 4.3k. “Yes, this is exactly how I always dreamed it would be. Locked in a cupboard with your elbow inside my rib cage,” Henry snipes. He sounds like he wants to punch Alex, which is probably the most Alex has ever liked him, so he follows an impulse and drives his elbow into Henry’s side, hard.

Henry lets out a muffled yelp, and the next thing Alex knows, he’s been yanked sideways by his shirt and Henry is halfway on top of him, pinning him down with one thigh. His head throbs where he’s clocked it against the linoleum floor, but he can feel his lips split into a smile.

nobody panic, but i've broken my leg by annesbonny. T, 5.2k. He collects his phone from Cash who's been holding onto his possessions, and shoots off a text to the group chat between pained breaths. nobody panic, but i’ve broken my leg. Then he slips it away again before he can read June's outraged response.

In which Alex Claremont Diaz breaks his leg at a charity Lacrosse game.

Ghosts by colorfulmoniker. M, 5.4k. After Henry leaves the lake house, Alex does not go after him. He doesn't storm Kensington in a fit of pique to call Henry an "obtuse fucking asshole." Instead, the pair spend nearly a year apart, both wrecked and miserable, until they find themselves on the list of speakers for an international conference.

baby, you were meant to follow me. by @chaa-kiao. T, 5.6k. “He doesn’t—” his breath hitches helplessly at the thought. “He doesn’t love me, June.” And, God, he’s fucking crying again.

The storm in his head rages on, his stomach sinking like a ship in its tide. Maybe Henry is exactly who Alex believes him to be: good and honest and true; maybe he’s perfect in every way Alex knows that he is and simply, plainly, doesn’t want him.

That's the worst possible answer to the questions that have become his entire being today. It sends another set of sobs hurling past his lips. The idea that all of this was real, Henry just doesn’t care that much, is sickening— debilitating— Alex doesn’t know how to face it.

Or: Henry and Alex never defined their relationship. Angst ensues.

simply, don't by rizcriz. T, 5.7k. The first voicemail notification sits in Henry’s inbox when he lands in London. He stares at it for a long while before quietly dismissing it and shoving his phone unceremoniously into his pocket. His phone feels like lead in his pocket the entire ride back to the palace, fingers itching to pull it out and just listen. But he’s stronger than that, isn’t he? He left, he got on the plane, he made it home without once looking back.

He had, though, contemplated the many steps it would take to turn around. Wondered if he could make it back with enough time to climb back into Alex’s bed and pretend none of this nightmare—the confession of love—had ever happened. But for every step he envisions himself taking back, three more lead him straight to Kensington Palace, because for whatever it is that he wants, there is only what he can have, and it is not a life with one Alexander Gabriel Claremont-Diaz.

Or, Henry actually answers one of Alex's calls.

think I know where you belong (think I know it's with me) by coffeecatsme. T, 5.8k. “You got me a flower?” Henry gingerly uncurls Alex’s fingers and looks at it. Alex gulps and manages a nod.

“I know it’s not much—” he tries to say, but then Henry’s grinning and Alex quite forgets why he was so worried about in the first place. He finds himself mirroring the smile. “You like it?”

“I love it.”

Or, 5 times Alex is in love with Henry and 1 time Henry loves him back.

After Everything, I Must Confess I Need You by @mainstreamelectricalparade. T, 5.8k. “Fuck,” he gasps, tears springing to his eyes and mixing with the rainwater on his face. He’s not sure if the tears are from the asphalt biting into his palms, or if it’s a release of the emotions he’s been trying to shove down deep ever since he woke up to an empty top bunk at the lake house.

Wait. Asphalt.

Over the pounding rain, Alex hears the shrill sound of a horn honking, and looks up just in time to be blinded by a pair of headlights coming straight at him.

When Alex dares Henry to tell him to leave, Henry actually does. Neither of them could have predicted what happens next.

dearthisbe by @dani-dabbles. G, 6.6k. “If someone in this room had told me before the Queen,” he grits out, “then maybe I wouldn't be completely cut off from my boyfriend right now.”

Alex glowers at his mother and ignores the cowed looks of the various staffers lining the Oval Office. Two days of no contact. Not even a carrier pigeon - or a swan since the queen apparently has them all at their disposal - has been sent their way.

OR: the email plot is discovered before it can be leaked, the palace doesn’t handle the news of their relationship well, and Henry and Alex are left trying to find their way back to each other.

come and get me by rizcriz. T, 6.9k. The email arrives 8 days after Henry left the lake house. He contemplates deleting it without reading, but it sits in his Alex inbox, where there are over seventy emails favourited, and somehow it feels wrong and weirdly impersonal.

As if leaving without a note were any different.

He stares at the from line with an aching longing that seeps into his veins. It settles on his heart like a tangible thing; something warranted and cruel that casts shackles around the aorta and locks them tight so that he might never love again.

or, alex sends an email instead of flying to KP.

I'd Wanna Be Felled by You, Held by You by Anonymous. E, 7k. Henry has been hiding his second gender since Alex moved into his apartment three years ago. When Alex accidentally triggers Henry's first heat in years, Henry asks Alex to cuddle him through it.

everything's growing in our garden by matherine. T, 7.2k. That night, in the safety of his hotel room on the outskirts of the Olympic Village, Henry couldn’t catch his breath. He coughed and coughed, feeling like he was choking on nothing, but there was a scratching sensation in his throat that he just couldn’t shake – until a single blue petal flew past his lips, landing in the porcelain bowl of the sink.

After an hour of painstaking Googling, he learns that it’s a Texas bluebonnet. He also learns what the fact that he’s coughing up petals means – the beginning stages of Hanahaki Disease. Rare, but not unheard of, according to the NHS website he browses in an incognito tab. Common in royal bloodlines (thank you, inbreeding).

"Only curable if the afflicted’s love is requited with a declaration," he reads, and slams his laptop closed with a bitter laugh, wet with tears. "A surgical procedure removing the afflicted’s capacity for love may be performed if the love remains unrequited. Otherwise, the condition is terminal."

So, then. He has no chance.

you're on your own, kid (yeah you can face this) by coffeecatsme. T, 7.2k. “Let’s get it over with.” Henry attempts to move, but Shaan stops him with a hand over his arm, concern flickering in his eyes.

“Are you okay, Henry?” he asks, so silently that the PPOs wouldn’t even be able to hear it. Henry doesn’t even blink. He doubts that word exists in his vocabulary anymore—he doubts it’s in the cards for him. But he knows the script.

He forces a smile on his face. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Or, 5 times Henry feels alone in the world, and 1 time he realizes he isn't.

every version of you (i love) by coffeecatsme. M, 7.6k. “So,” the voice narrates as the man squishes the dog’s cheeks and laughs at himself. “There’s this guy that lives next to me with the cutest beagle in the world and this little guy climbs to the fence every day to drop his toys off at, like, 5:30 on the dot, I’m not kidding.” The camera shows the man boop the dog’s nose and press a little kiss to his forehead. There’s a ball in his hands that he hands to the dog, but it slips from his mouth all over again, making the man reach down to grab it. He glares at the dog, but even then he’s still smiling. “And this guy always walks by and picks up the stuff and it’s the cutest fucking thing ever you have no idea.” The camera zooms in farther into the man’s smile, genuine and wild, as he pushes his wild curls away from his face. His eyes flicker up when another figure walks into the frame, his blonde hair falling over his forehead in waves. The man’s smile, impossibly, widens.

“Oh. I’m also pretty sure he has a crush on my neighbor.”

Or, 5 times David greets Alex with something that belongs to Henry, and 1 time he greets Alex with something that belongs to both of them.

I'm Fine With My Spite and My Tears (and my beer and my candles) by Megg1223. E, 7.7k. Henry leaves Alex at the lake house, but Alex doesn't storm Kensington. What happens when they see each other after three months? With the election right around the corner can Alex keep it together enough not to cause another international incident? Alex just needs to get through the night and then he can forget about the boy who broke his heart, but he's finding it increasingly difficult as the night goes on.

Downburst by @cricketnationrise. E, 8.5k. Amy’s sudden shout of alarm cuts off whatever Zahra was going to say. Alex stares at Amy, uncomprehendingly. His heart is racing, his body already flooding with instinctive fear, brain scrambling to catch up, to process what she said—

Cash is at his side between one blink and the next, practically tackling him to the ground and oh—

That’s a gunshot.

in the shadow of two gunmen by matherine. M, 8.6k. There are over four hundred and thirty-three million guns in civilian possession in the United States. Alex isn’t sure where on the campaign trail that fact embedded itself into his brain — he thinks he picked it up from some memo between Minnesota and Missouri — but he’s never been able to forget it. It's one of those things he turns over and over in his head, running the numbers as if he could calculate the possibility of a bullet embedding itself in his brain.

In the end, Alex thinks that it evens out. More people want to kill him than the average person (and that number has grown exponentially over the years) but now he also has Secret Service protection and can’t go anywhere without a motorcade. So, really, statistically, he figures that he has just as much of a chance of being shot by one of those 433 million firearms as anyone else, give or take a few decimal points here and there. But doing the math doesn’t make it any less terrifying when it actually happens.

Locked In by @three-drink-amy. M, 9.2k. After their night together in Paris, Henry and Alex get quarantined in their hotel, locked in for two full weeks.

Henry's Cold, Empty Tower by @dracowillhearaboutthis. G, 9.6k. “I want you,” Henry said, slowly but clearly, “to leave.”

When Alex storms Kensington Palace, Henry sends him away. Then, their relationship gets leaked, and it's Henry's turn to fight for Alex.

There's Something Missing in My Heart by allmylovesatonce. M, 9.8k. When Alex goes to London to tell him he loves him, Henry sends him away. How do both of them react to being without each other and what happens when their emails are still leaked?

So I Will Weather the Storm by Mags (sparklepocalypse). E, 9.8k. They’re in the air twenty minutes before the next report comes in, this time over their headsets. “Patient is located on the eastern side of Sgòr Gaoith. He reports a sudden snow squall came up, and he lost his footing and took a fall. He’s conscious and reports no major injuries, but he’s stuck on a ledge and can’t make it back to the trail. Patient is wearing a red jacket and a black knit cap and states his name is – ” there’s a burst of static over the radio.

“Please repeat the patient’s name,” Henry says into the headset mic as Schlosser programs the mountain’s location into the GPS.

There’s a bit more static, and then the dispatcher states, “Alexander Claremont-Diaz.”

(Or, a movieverse canon divergent AU wherein Henry is in the RAF and Cakegate still takes place, but the PR campaign doesn't happen – and two months after Cakegate, Alex does something dumb on a mountain in Scotland.)

a series of non-disclosure dilemmas series by everwitch. E, 10k. It takes a bit of time, before they manage to find the right person – a guy they’re both into, who is into what they’re into, and who is willing to sign a massive NDA even before they’ve made it to the bedroom. But once they do? It’s good. It’s so, so good. Still, nothing lasts forever, and when Theodore’s career takes him across the pond, Alex and Henry must consider whether or not they should start searching for someone else. Except in the end, they don’t have to search at all – Kenji is equal parts a surprise, and an absolute delight.

But the biggest surprise of all is the fact that, somewhere between a lot of really fun sex and some lazy, post-coital Star Wars banter, Alex and Henry end up with a matchmaking scheme that could certainly rival any cinematic drama. Theo, and Kenji. So different, but so well suited.

But how to get them together?

(did my love aid and abet you?) by alasse. T, 11k. That night in Kensington Palace, Henry told Alex to leave. Eleven years later, Alex watches on the news as Henry comes out, and abdicates. A story of what came before, and what comes after.

i vowed i would always be yours ('cause we survived the great war) by coffeecatsme. T, 12k. Mary Mountchristen-Windsor dies on June 5th, 2020, on a Tuesday morning, after an unexpected heart attack takes her before she’s rushed to a hospital.

Alex Claremont-Diaz hates Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor. It's a fact, written in stone, deep enough that nothing, he believes, can sand it off. Until he bumps into the prince at his grandmother's funeral and sees a different side of him.

Or, 5 times Alex and Henry have to hide themselves and 1 time they don't have to.

A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words by TintedMirrors. E, 12k. "It’s not an innocent picture. It’s anything but. Henry is lying on his back in the wet sand of the beach, body completely bare and naked in a way that should have only been for Alex’s eyes, and Alex is lying on top of him. Alex’s still wearing his swim trunks, but he’s cradled in Henry’s thighs, his body blanketing Henry’s as he kisses him deeply. His arm is caught between them and Alex remembers exactly what he was doing. In the picture, there’s a peek of his fingers at the bottom of Henry’s thighs, and while it doesn’t show Henry’s cock or asshole, it’s clear where Alex’s fingers are.

Inside of Henry."

A picture of a private moment between Alex and Henry is taken while they're on vacation, which leads to a media frenzy.

Alex can't stop looking at it...

A Parent's Love by herebecauseimqueer. NR, 13k. An exploration of who Henry would be and how the events of RWRB would be different if Arthur never got sick.

Once I get a taste by clottedcreamfudge. E, 16k. “Please,” Alex begs, on fire with a clawing desperate need. “Fuck, please, I’ll do anything. Henry.”

Henry, entire body rigid with tension, slowly shakes his head. Alex sees his mouth – red from where Alex has been kissing him, biting him, well on his way to eating Henry alive – form the word no, even though he can’t hear it past the blood rushing in his ears.

Then Henry turns and leaves, and Alex digs his fingers into the cheap plywood of his own desk as he tries desperately not to fall to the floor.

Which is not, as it turns out, where this story starts.

A Heart Even More Your Own. by chaa_kiao. T, 16k. “Guess you’ll be writing those poems after all.” He swallows. "I should go."

Henry’s mind— every part of him, really— his heart, his body, his fucking soul— is screaming at him to take it all back. To hell with the monarchy, the American presidency, damn it all. This is the man he’s spent his entire life loving and he’s throwing it away for a legacy he doesn’t give a single fuck about. He forces out a rough “I think so,” but he can’t hear it over the ringing in his ears.

“I love you.”

“Alex—”

“I know,” Alex says. “I just had to say it.”

Or: Alex and Henry getting back together takes a little bit longer this time.

Growth Is Uncomfortable (Because You've Never Been Here Before) by Jaistiel. M, 17k. "He said if I wanted to help, they would be instrumental in understanding how." Henry outright laughed at this. It was a hollow, joyless sound, and Philip, to his credit, merely looked chastised instead of angry.

"Do you? Want to help, that is." Henry narrowed his eyes and scrutinized the emotion written on Philip's face. He had never been easy to read, always hidden behind the stuffy upper class posture of a royal, but now it seemed that some of that wall built around him had slipped away.

"Yes." He didn't expand on his answer, didn't fill the room with platitudes and meaningless explanations. His response was, in full, simply: yes. Henry stared at him in shock.

In the week following the leak, Philip has a series of conversations that lead him down a path of introspection and understanding. Each told through a different POV.

I feel the beating of your heart, I see the shadows on your face by @anincompletelist. M, 18k. It’s certainly not what Alex would have predicted a few days prior. If someone had told him he’d be tenderly embracing his self-imposed enemy after switching bodies with him for seventy-two hours and embarking on an unintentional journey of self discovery and then finally finding their way back to each other to ask for a True Love’s Kiss that may or may not break the curse that flipped their lives upside down -

Well, Alex would have told them to fuck off.

Sure As the Stars in the Sky by anincompletelist. E, 20k. It shouldn't matter that Alex has been present for each and every one of Henry's most important life milestones, sometimes the singular catalyst for them. It shouldn't be important that he's grown to be more familiar to Henry than even some of his own family members, that part of him is burrowed so deeply into Henry's subconscious that he can taste it sometimes, that even when Alex crashes in, spirited and passionate, it feels like an easy exhale; like coming home.

It shouldn't matter, but it does.

flatline by rizcriz. T, 21k. Alex gets the call at 7:57am.

It’s from an unknown number, so he answers it with an accent on his tongue and laughter in his throat, ready to troll the scammer for all they’re worth. But the voice on the other side of the line is serious, solemn, when she asks, “Is this, I apologize, all I’ve been given are initials, AGCD?”

He frowns, turning away from the coffee shop he’d been about to enter. “Who’s asking?”

There’s a moment of hesitation on the other end. “There’s been an incident. On the individual's phone, there’s a sticker. It says, if found, return to AGCD, alongside this phone number. Does it sound familiar?”

Alex freezes in the middle of the sidewalk. “What kind of incident?”

Or, Henry's been in an accident.

Pump The Volume by absoluteaudacity. M, 22k. Zahra, sitting across the table from Alex, gives him a stony glare. “Aids?” she signs and he shakes his head obstinately. His hearing aids make his ears itch and he isn’t wearing them in his own house, even if that house is The White House.

everybody needs someone series by anincompletelist (soldouthaz). E, 24k. It would hurt less, Alex guesses, if he wasn’t head over heels for the guy he’s supposed to be fucking through an ancient one-sided sex curse with that was partially — a lot, actually — his own fault.

But. It’s not like there’s a fucking handbook.

Alex has looked. 

Claremont 2008 by @happiness-of-the-pursuit. M, 26k. What if Ellen Claremont had gotten elected in 2008 instead of Obama? An alternate timeline story of FirstPrince.

2009 at Buckingham Palace for tea. A sleepover after a quinceañera in 2010. The 2012 London Olympics. A 2014 Model UN Conference. A funeral in 2015. College and another campaign trail.

And the texts, facetimes, and chain emails in between.

Vacation, Meant to Be Spent Alone by allmylovesatonce. E, 29k. Alex has the perfect trip planned out for himself after his graduation. The last thing he expects is for his room to be double booked. The worst part of it all is that he'll be forced to share the room with his nemesis: Prince Henry of Wales.

Oblivion by milowren. NR, 31k. What if the moment in the hospital wasn’t a false alarm and the publicity surrounding the forced bromance between Alex and Henry had the adverse effect of them being kidnapped together?

Someday Soon I’ll See You (But Now You’re Out Of Sight) by MaryaDmitrievnaLikesSundays. NR (MCD), 38k. Alexander Claremont-Diaz was twenty-eight years old when a car crash took his life.

The entire world grieved, and the entire world remembered.

But for some people, it wasn’t just a figurehead that died. It was a friend, a brother, a son. A husband. And remembering all of Alex was a hell of a task to undertake.

Or, how six people in Alex’s life work through his death.

You'll Get Better Soon ('Cause you have to) by Megg1223. T, 38k. Dr. Eden sighs and looks them both in the eyes. “I’m not going to lie to you. There is a possibility that he will never recover his memories. But, there are things we can do to help him along. I’ve already told him about the memory loss. He knows it’s 2023 and that he lost almost four years of memories. I think it may be best to update him on his current situation. His day to day life is drastically different then it was in 2019, is that correct?”

“Yeah, I would say.” Alex huffs out a bitter laugh.

Henry is in an accident and thinks it's still 2019. He still believes Alex hates him, and Alex is a just as much of a mess as you think he would be.

all the rumors are true by fxckingeyelashes. E, 53k. The door slams open in the middle of the night. Henry and Alex both shoot up, blinking through the dark.

“Wha- Zahra, what the hell?” Alex mumbles, making sure to keep the blanket over their naked hips.

Zahra exhales slowly as she flips the lights on. “We have a situation. You two need to get dressed and meet me in the office. It’s… it’s your emails. Someone’s hacked the server. They’re public.”

Alex isn’t sure he remembers how to breathe. Henry’s the first to move, grabbing the small trash can from beside Alex’s bed just in time to get sick.

//

Or, the one where the emails are leaked, but Alex and Henry are together when it happens. Bits from the book, bits from the movie, bits from my own personal AU I’ve created in my head.

Don't Initiate a Handshake, Always Address Them Properly, and For God's Sake, No Tiaras Until 6pm by TuppingLiberty. E, 63k. What happens when the White House decides to be proactive rather than reactive? Alex is brilliant and kind, but he's in need of a little polishing before he attends the royal wedding, and who to provide it better than Prince Henry? After all, they're both beholden to NDAs and with Princess Bea visiting as well, it's easy to pass off the two week visit as goodwill ambassadorship for both countries. No one has to know Henry is tutoring Alex.

So Alex is going to be left alone in the White House with his mortal enemy and three meddling sisters learning all about royal etiquette and protocol.

What's the worst that can happen?

Things I Cannot Accept by @sprigsofviolets. T, 69k. In 2016, Ellen Claremont lost the presidential election.

In 2019, Alex Claremont-Diaz is not the first son of the United States, so he’s shocked when his path crosses with Prince Henry for the first time in almost four years.

What Do I Know by allmylovesatonce. E, 83k. After a bad accident, Alex finally wakes up from a week-long coma. His family and friends are so relieved until they find that he has memory loss, forgetting the last five plus years. For Henry, he's forgotten their entire relationship. How do they go forward when Alex still thinks he hates Henry, but Henry is wearing his wedding ring?

I only tag an author once per post, but I'm still figuring out firstprince author handles. If you see one I may not know or find a broken link, please give me a heads up!

Master List of RWRB FirstPrince Recs

Master List of Recommendations

#firstprince #rwrb fic recs #rwrb #alex x henry #red white & royal blue

[tikus-library]

"The Look"

Avengers AU - Quick Fic

Characters: Sam Wilson, Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers, Reader

Posted: Jan 20th

WARNINGS: none, idiots being idiots

A/N: I was at the laundromat yesterday when I saw the gif and needed to write something- so gave this.

Like, Comments, & Reblogs are always appreciated and loved.

**Please Do Not Repost or 'Fix' My Work**

Leave kudos on Ao3

“Here comes Y/N! Do the thing- do the thing!” Sam elbowed him, shit eating grin in place.

Bucky sighed with his entire soul, “Sam, it doesn't do anything, it's just a look, that's all, it doesn't matter”

“If it doesn't matter then do it.”

“Why would I?” He shot back as Sam stopped, shifted his hip out and crossed his arms.

Sam rolled his eyes to Steve, “he won't do the thing!”

“Steve get your friend”

“He's more your friend than mine these days pal,” Steve chuckled.

“Here she comes… you should see how she reacts to it, you'd understand me Steve, this one here is just an idiot.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes as Steve shrugged, shook his head and raised his hands in classic ‘I don't know’ fashion. “fine-” he bit out, stepping out between them and tipping his head down and looking up at you.

Today couldn't get worse. Today everything was wrong. Today every file that was sent to you was backwards or upside down, some were even corrupted and Tony thought it was the funniest shit, as if you could be any later now you had to do a quick debriefing of the three stooges that were currently coming back in from a mission and really as if you didn't get enough shoved on your plate– wonderful, you perked up realizing the three were right there, together, you could get it done in five minutes as long as you heckled them.

You could just stare at Steve or Sam. They were good, wholesome, wonderful guys that were not the sergeant. Not that Bucky wasn't wholesome or handsome– actually he was very handsome, distractingly so, especially when he smiled, or put his hand through his hair, or just breathed in your general vicinity.

Speaking of the Sergeant you saw him step forwards and meet your gaze, head dropping, hair shifting forwards to frame his face, lips pressed down and bright blue eyes focused on you.

Your brain flat lined.

Y/N stopped in her tracks, her determined steps halting, Bucky cocked his head to the side and was surprised when she did an abrupt about face and practically RAN back in the direction she had come from. He shoved a hand into his face.

Great, now you were scared of him, as if he didn't have enough trouble figuring out what to say to you. Now you wouldn't show your face around him.

Steve guffawed, bringing Bucky back out of his depressed thoughts. “Good gawd Buck, I forgot the effect you had on a woman.”

“What?!” He demanded, “she ran out of here in fear for her life!” Sam cracked, a howl of laughter spilling forth, Bucky clenched his fists, “you think that's funny?”

Sam clapped a hand on his shoulder, “that wasn't fear man! That girl wants you, she wants you real bad.”

Bucky jerked back, blinking hard. “No.”

Steve nodded as he looked over at him. “That wasn't fear pal, that was panic, I can tell you this much – Y/N is quiet because when she does speak she can't keep her mouth in check, which usually tends to land her in hot water.”

Bucky turned to Sam, who was wiping away a few tears, “she has literally called us both hot, but said there was no way she would date us.”

“But when I asked her for her opinion on you–” Steve laughed, but sobered and leveled a look at him, “buddy, ya need to talk to her.”

“It was pretty colorful,” Sam murmured

“What did she say?” Bucky asked.

Sam shook his head, looking over at Steve, “did you see the way she shivered at the look?”

Steve nodded laughing as he moved around Bucky, “makes you realize what she said had to be true.”

Sam gasped as the two continued to walk, “Y/N! She really is full of surprises! Scandalous!!!”

“WHAT DID SHE SAY?!” Bucky cried following the two.

#the Look #james bucky barnes #quick fic #sam wilson #steve Rogers #reader

[lov-eable]

TELL ME  ֗ ˖ ࣪ ᩠ ༉‧₊˚ ✿ #00

━━ a filmmaker decides to follow and document the lives of the worst and best students at your school for a month, unfortunately, those students are you and chishiya, the most annoying guy on earth.

masterlist ◌*ꕤ

word count ✦ 541

A/N: wasn’t supposed to publish this today but i got excited wjsnjesjwbj, all the enemies to lovers fics with chishiya are about academic rivals and we girlies who dont do well in school need rep!! im sorry about any grammar mistakes <3

03/24/17 15:27, previous records

Everyone gathered around except for two students who were quite sure about their grades, you and Chishiya. An outsider would expect both of you to have a streak of perfect scores by how calmly you were waiting, and that might have been Chishiya’s case but not yours, especially not yours. You just knew your rank was the worst, your name plastered in the last place. You were nervous deep inside even though it wasn’t a shock to you or your parents. 

It had been like this your entire high school. You were the worst student in school and your parents never cared about it. Sure, they would argue with you sometimes, maybe ask why you couldn't show the same interest in your textbooks while you were reading, but they didn't need you to have adequate performance at school. They already had your older sister, Mira, an outstanding student who most assuredly would make herself and her family a name out there. You were the funny little sister who had the opportunity to fuck up whenever she liked to.

“It seems our scores are not so different from before” his insufferable voice was heard next to you, making you assume his comment was directed towards you. How could you forget about Chishiya? The smartest yet most annoying man you have ever met. He could maintain his greatest grades throughout his whole life. However, he lacked any social skills or maybe he didn’t want people around him, you weren’t so sure about it.

His exceptional GPA gave him this weird and irritating sense of superiority, always speaking down to others or straight up ignoring them when they asked for something. Still, he was pretty much surrounded by people all the time, girls chased him around hoping to get his number with little to no results and guys hung with him even if he wasn’t a big fan of them. Damn it, even some of your closest friends, such as Arisu and Kuina hung out with him and would often try to get you to like him, it wouldn’t happen though, there wasn’t anything you disliked more than a condescending jerk. 

“What? The cat got your tongue?” the most unbearable smirk had appeared on his face and you were just about to lose it, you simply couldn’t stand him and felt the need to punch him. But you didn’t, you usually acted on your instincts but this one time, it could get you in trouble. He eyed you with a smile-like grin on his face as you stood in front of the ranks and conducted yourself away from the group of students. 

The bell had already rung some minutes ago and you were now completely free, at least for 10 days or so. The fearful rays of springtime sunlight greeted your face as you walked away from the school. The screams of your friends asking you to wait for them became more and more distant, but you needed to get home as soon as possible to get your post-school nap, and knowing them, they would delay that journey. The soft breeze gave a peaceful atmosphere, walking through your old small town, the tree branches, who were witnesses of your childhood and now teenagehood, laughed seeing you so naive before the future semester.

tag list: @surshica @enslique @httpsimmy

#chishiya x reader #chishiya shuntaro x reader #aib x reader #alice in boderland x reader #chishiya x fem!reader #aib chishiya #୨୧ . . . tell me #l❤︎veable

[venus-haze]

Howl (Bo Sinclair x Reader)

Summary: It’s almost inevitable, going on a road trip and ending up with car trouble. The nearby town of Ambrose seems like the perfect place to get your friend’s car a new battery without going off schedule too much, except the handsome mechanic at the body shop decides a dead battery will be the least of your worries as the road trip abruptly ends far worse than you could have imagined.

Note: Please read the warnings before deciding to engage with this fic. Reader is a cis woman, but no other descriptors are used. Your age is ambiguous in this, but it was written with a reader in their 20s or older in mind. This is my first slasher fic, but I’d like to write more. I hope Bo isn’t OOC in this (especially the ending, I feel kinda eh about it). I rewatched the movie and read the script right before starting on this but who knows. Please let me know what you think! Do not interact if you are under 18 or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 7.2k

Warnings: Murder/death. Descriptions of violence involving weapons (guns and knives). Disturbing and sadistic behavior. Misogyny. Kidnapping and prolonged captivity which involves physical abuse, emotional and psychological manipulation, major Stockholm syndrome, distorted sense of time and self. Duct tape as a gag. Sexually explicit content which involves coercion (non/dubcon), knifeplay, bloodplay, and cigarette burns. Do not interact if you are under 18.

A sigh of relief escaped your lips when you and your small group of roadtripping friends arrived in Ambrose, a charming little town tucked in a forgotten corner of the Louisiana swamplands. You felt comfortable there, safe, even. Disarmed by a nostalgic main street lined with colorful family-owned shops, you thought nothing of it when you all made the trek to reach the town’s gas station and body shop in search of a new battery for Laura’s car. Sure, the detour put a damper on the road trip, but you figured it’d only cost an hour or two of driving time.

Just your luck, the gas station was there, as the strange man along the highway had promised. That didn’t necessarily mean the place was open, as the gas pumps were half-rusted and at the obvious mercy of the elements. You had let your friends argue amongst themselves about whether or not to go inside the shop. You were the only one who noticed a broad-shouldered, handsome man in a blue mechanic’s jumpsuit walk out of the garage that had just started blaring heavy metal from inside. Funny, you would’ve suspected a place like that to play some twangy country classics. The mechanic stood a few feet away from you all, watching the scene in amusement, and you gave him an apologetic smile.

When he gave you a smile in return, one that was more wolf than man, you thought that you’d offer your throat to him without hesitation, let him feast on you as he pleased. As much as you hoped looking a wolf in the mouth would somehow defang him, he seemed famished, in an almost controlled desperation the way one hears howling in the night. You were presented with a blood red flag from the start and willingly ignored it just because you were a bit too curious about the fire behind his eyes and the way he blatantly ogled you, not your friends. 

Trying to make polite conversation with him, you had asked him about the music that was playing in the body shop—Anthrax? Megadeth? Korn? You threw out names of metal bands, ones you’d seen on t-shirts or posters. He regarded you with amusement as he answered, though you’d retroactively acknowledge the predatory undertone of his words and actions toward you in the hour or so leading up to your life going to hell. He was always going to devour you.

Like everything in Ambrose, his good ol’ boy charm was nothing more than a facade to keep you in town as long as possible. Introducing himself as Bo, the exact man you all were told to look for, Michelle had cut to the chase and told him that Laura’s car was in need of a new battery. Your guard lowered even more as he threw compliments around like candy, asking all the right questions about the roadtrip you were 347 miles into. He searched for a brand new, more reliable car battery in the shop and the garage, only to muse as he charmingly adjusted his worn-out trucker cap that it might be back up at his house, one of the business deliveries he gets up there, he just hadn’t gotten a chance to unpack it yet.

In hindsight, you weren’t sure why you believed him, or why you let Renee walk up to the house with him by herself. What you couldn’t admit to yourself was that you almost didn’t, feeling jealous at the thought of her alone with Bo. A brief sense of satisfaction had swept over you when, for the second time, Bo’s attention was fixed on your body before he headed off to the house with Renee. You hadn’t seen her since.

The metal door of the basement hovel where you had found yourself trapped for god knows how long slammed open, and you jolted—at the harsh sound and at his unkempt appearance, sweat dripping from his brow, rage in his eyes, his chest heaving as he stalked over to the same spot you’d been in since he dragged you, screaming and crying but with no real fight, as you ashamedly reminded yourself, down there.

“Your friend is gettin’ on my last damn nerve,” he growled. 

A foolish hope bubbled warm in your chest at this. Someone was still alive, someone besides you at least. Which one though? You’d seen a looming tower of a man with long black hair stab Laura and drag away her limp form while Bo had wrangled you back into the body shop and down to whatever fucking dungeon you were probably going to die in. Renee was airheaded and shallow; you admittedly didn’t like her much, but damn, if she found a way out of Ambrose, you’d be her best friend. You’d bet anything it was Michelle, though. She was the one who had doubts about stopping in Ambrose in the first place, going so far as to call bullshit when Bo claimed the car battery was up at his house. 

It wasn’t like you could ask. He’d slapped duct tape over your mouth, as to his frustration he found he was out of superglue to seal your lips shut. The things that slip your mind. At least you still had your clothes on, though you doubted that would last. Blood, though you weren’t sure whose, stained your shirt beyond salvation anyway.

“Bitch won’t shut the fuck up,” he grumbled, double-checking that the restraints were secured. 

You resisted the urge to scoff, as if you hadn’t spent the past twenty minutes exhausting yourself trying to break out of them. The bastard was expertly thorough, to your despair. You had gotten a surge of adrenaline in his earlier absence, a newfound will to escape and survive as you tugged at the leather straps and duct tape holding you in place on the surgical bed, praying for some kind of give. As soon as he stepped foot through that door again, slamming it behind him, you had been no closer to freedom than when he left. The gravity of the situation came crashing down on you, a suffocating hopelessness.

His sleeves had rolled up a bit, and you noticed scarring around his wrists, raised and angry looking despite having healed for some time. You’d never seen scarring like that before, wondering what could have caused such intense trauma to his skin like that.

His eyes followed yours, and he curled his lip, backhanding you across the face. “Ain’t polite to stare.”

The stinging pain in your jaw and the weight of his intense gaze made breathing difficult—that and the duct tape. You began to hyperventilate, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. He cooed in mock sympathy, using the pads of his thumbs to wipe away the tears that threatened to fall down your face.

“Save those for later, darlin’,” he said. “I got somethin’ special in mind for you.”

He left your side to begin rifling through a duffel bag in a dark corner of the room. Emerging back into the light moments later, he had a hand-held video camera and a plastic tripod. Despite your lips being sealed, you hoped the noises of protest you made would somehow change his mind. Instead, he seemed amused by them as he set down the tripod and began adjusting the camera on top of it, giving you a wink as the green light near the lens flickered on.

You stared at the cracked cement ceiling while he set up the video camera a few feet away from where he had you restrained, unwilling to acknowledge what was about to happen. You’d rather be dead—though you figured by the end of the night, you would be. 

“Anyone ever tell you how fuckin’ pretty you are?” he asked, observing you through the small screen that flipped out from the side of the camera.

No, and you certainly didn’t want this to be the situation in which someone finally did. You wondered how many of your fallen comrades taped up on the dingy wall had heard the same line. It was almost impossible not to look at them, the dozens of polaroids of young women strapped to the same surgical bed as you, all in various states of brutalization, plainly spelling out your fate. None of the photos had captions scrawled beneath them, no dates or names—he probably didn’t know yours, either. 

Bo snapped his fingers three times in a row, your startled gaze immediately shooting over to him behind the camera where he was adjusting the settings. At least his tinkering delayed the inevitable. You stared intensely into the camera as if trying to will it to break, put up a fight on your behalf so he’d call the whole thing off.

He grinned at your obedience. “That’s it. Eyes on me, doll.”

You whimpered. Doll, how appropriate, how fucking fitting. The second he got his hands on you, your personhood was dissolved into objectification. You had welcomed the prelude to it, the desire in his eyes when he openly stared at you earlier as he fed your ego so you’d end up right where he wanted you—accessible, vulnerable, defenseless.

“Perfect,” Bo whispered, as the green light turned red, indicating he’d begun recording. He stepped aside and grabbed a nearby knife as he made his way over to you.

The video camera was no longer your ally; it couldn’t buy you any more time from the inevitable. In an instant, it became your voyeur, a guilty bystander in the terrorization that was about to be documented. You wondered where the footage would end up, part of his personal collection, or maybe someone as prolific as him was churning this shit out for sickos online who’d imagine themselves in his place.

He stood angled toward your side, giving the camera a clear view of your body. He took his time drinking in the state of you, bound and terrified as you looked between him and the knife. You relaxed a little when he set the knife to the side, but just as quickly, his hands were on your body.

His big, calloused hand drifted up your skirt—why the fuck did you put on a skirt this morning—to your panties, and you felt your face heat up at the self-satisfied grin that spread across his face as he felt the wet stain on the fabric, slipping his fingers past the elastic to feel your arousal. He toyed with your clit, rubbing and pinching it as you resisted the orgasm you felt creeping up on you. Then, just as you were about to give in and go over the edge, he pulled his hand away, smug at the noise of frustration you made.

Picking up the knife again, he dragged the tip of the blade across the soft skin of your thighs until it rested far too close to your cunt for comfort. Your breathing was ragged, but you tried not to make any sudden movements or do anything to inadvertently provoke him. The bulge in his pants seemed especially pronounced, he certainly wasn’t doing this to you to compensate for something, you could tell that much.

He smirked upon noticing your eyes on the outline of his cock through his clothes. 

“How bad d’you want it, darlin’?” he asked, his voice a low, almost velvety purr.

You shook your head furiously, screwing your eyes shut as he moved the blade, only for him to begin shredding through your clothing until they were nothing but rags on the floor. There was nothing to do but watch in horror as he sliced each of your bra straps, pushing down what was left of the undergarment to allow himself access to your tits. He held the knife to your throat while he leaned down, sucking on one of your nipples until it felt sore, like it was going to bruise. He finally pulled back, smacking your other tit for good measure. 

The knife in his hand was dull, you realized, to your dismay. It appeared clean enough, all things considered, but with a blade like that, any injury he inflicted on you would take more effort on his part and hurt far more on yours. A sharpened blade would hurt, but it’d be quick and precise. You felt bile rise in your throat with nowhere for it to go as you considered how cruelly deliberate he was about all of this. Asshole.

For a few glorious moments, your mind had drifted elsewhere as he used the knife to cut through your panties—until you heard a scream and a groan from outside, both you and Bo pausing to look up at the grate in the ceiling and listen. Another scream and what surely must have been a body hitting the pavement, perhaps it was your imagination running wild, but you could’ve sworn you heard bones crack upon impact. Michelle. You felt your chest tighten.

Bo grinned, his wild gaze back on you as he tauntingly dragged the blade across your collarbone, far too close to your throat for comfort, “Listen, if you’re good for me, I’ll keep ya. Won’t have to end up like your friends up there.”

Keep you. You hated keep you. Keep you was long-term, turning your current situation into a permanent arrangement. Keep you was a threat, a dark omen hanging over your head like a bolt of lightning about to crack down on you. You wondered if any of the girls on the wall were so lucky as to receive such an offer. 

“Whattaya say?” he asked, as if he needed permission.

Another vomit-inducing sound came from above, and you looked at him, nodding wildly. 

He pressed a sloppy kiss to your forehead, a praise of “good girl” coming from deep in his chest.

Without warning, he plunged the blade into your forearm, a jagged, brutal cut that split your tender flesh. You screamed through the tape as white hot pain seared through your body, mascara-stained tears streaking down your cheeks as you writhed against your restraints. As soon as he pulled the knife from your arm and leaned down to lick the blood from the wound he inflicted on you, you passed out cold.

Almost to your disappointment, you awoke a few hours later, your injured arm bandaged up, though you could see your fresh blood stains had become the latest addition to the already stained to hell mattress you were laying on. Your pussy felt sore and aching, and you could only hazard a guess as to what else he did to you after you’d passed out. At least you’d gotten an IUD a few months earlier.

Bo was disgustingly chipper when he checked on you about an hour after you woke up, a smile on his face as he walked down the stairs with a TV dinner and a dusty bottle of soda. The scent of over-microwaved corn made your stomach growl, and you didn’t even like corn that much.

When he removed the tape from your mouth, you knew better than to mouth off or try something, not when you were fully aware of what he was capable of, and enjoyed doing nonetheless. Your compliance pleased him, as he praised you for how well you did, that the video he got was the best one yet—like you were made for it. You immediately lost your appetite.

As days went by, he checked on you frequently, though there was no rhythm to his visits, keeping you on edge. He restocked on super glue, but through reasoning unfathomable to you, decided duct tape suited your mouth better. Sometimes he’d bring food for you that wasn’t even fully heated, and there was something especially hellish about having to eat half-frozen mac n’ cheese. You wished he would at least undo your restraints when you ate, but instead he fed you himself, like you were a child—only allowed microwave dinners that made you feel more nauseous than full and having to drink lukewarm tap water or flat soda from a straw. 

Your arm was healing to his satisfaction, though where he had stabbed you would undoubtedly scar over horrifically. Astoundingly, you didn’t need stitches, but he assured you that Vincent–you assumed the long-haired man who’d killed Laura–was great at stitching people up. You weren’t sure whether to be comforted by that or not. 

Then there was the bed across from the surgical one you were strapped to, its promise of comfort taunted you, but the only time you were in it was when you were restrained as usual, your face buried in the grimy pillows, ass up as he either fucked or belted you until you were crying or bleeding. He preferred both. The TV appeared broken, but you didn’t want to watch anything and be further reminded of the outside world you were missing anyway.

The basement didn’t have a bathroom, and so the only time you were freed from your restraints was when he’d bring you upstairs to the one in the gas station, a knife to your throat the whole ascent up to sunlight, a few taunting yards away from freedom. Though the scummy bathroom had no windows, he went as far to go in with you while you used the toilet, and you knew it was to humiliate you more than it was to make sure you didn’t escape. You couldn’t check what you were sure was your haggard appearance, as the mirror on the wall was covered by brown paper, shards of broken glass poking through the quick cover-up. Maybe it was one of the girls pictured downstairs, seeing an opportunity and taking it, smashing the mirror with an elbow and sheer force of will to put up one last fight. The rust-colored stains on the tile floor told you that while it was a valiant effort, she was not the victor.

You knew you smelled rancid from being down there, anxiously sweating every moment you were in his presence mixed with your own dried blood and his cum that you were sure he’d gotten on every inch of your body at that point. He had presented you with a pack of half-dried, lemon-scented wet wipes on one of your trips up to the bathroom, and you wasted no time in using every one of them to scrub yourself down as he watched intently, leaning against the wall and smoking a cigarette, the bulge in his pants reminding you that you wouldn’t stay clean for long.

The worst part was, you began looking forward to him checking on you. He was sadistic and deliberately cruel, but isolation did you no favors as your already fragile mental state caused you to crack. Time was absolutely not on your side, you’d lost track of it anyway.

One day, however, you heard another group of unsuspecting travelers speaking to Bo outside the body shop, their voices echoing down the grate that allowed the only natural light in. Your hope for rescue turned into a hope for something that shook you to your core when you acknowledged it—you hoped he wouldn’t replace you. 

While you didn’t want to spend the foreseeable future in a dungeon, strapped to a surgical bed for a psychopath’s amusement, you certainly didn’t want to meet the inevitable, brutal death that awaited you so soon. The women who came before you were nowhere to be found, and you could only imagine the worst had happened to them. You didn’t know what Bo did with the photos and videos he frequently took of you, but you sure as hell didn’t want to spend your final moments as the subject of a hardcore snuff film.

You nearly gagged as you heard Bo use the same lines and excuses that he’d given you and your friends. No one in the group even protested, two people volunteering to tag along with Bo up to the house to get the taillight they needed. It wasn’t long before the sound of an all too familiar struggle ensued above. Metal clattered, people cursed and screamed, tires squealed, and you could hear Bo cursing and struggling before a gun shot rang out, bringing the fight to an end. You weren’t sure who had won until you heard, echoed through the grate, Bo asking Vincent if he was okay. Your stomach turned at the sound of his voice and the fact that he was alive, though you didn’t want to think about whether it did so in disappointment or relief.

You were shaking when Bo stormed into the basement, blood splattered across his face and on his clothes. He punched the wall, shouting “Fuck!” upon impact. 

Your wide eyes were glued to him, and he turned to you, acknowledging your presence with a momentarily intense gaze that inexplicably softened as he closed the short distance between you.

“You were real good,” he said, sounding almost confused. “Stayed nice and quiet while Vincent and me took care of business up there.”

You awkwardly jerked your head toward his face. He’d gotten to know your quirks and tells, as he answered your unspoken question.

“‘S not mine,” he mumbled, sloppily wiping the blood away with his hand. 

The tone in the basement for the next hour or so was almost uncomfortably domestic, like he really cared about you. Perhaps you’d proven your loyalty in his eyes by not making attempts to warn the unsuspecting tourists of what awaited them in Ambrose or trying for some kind of escape amidst the chaos. 

Of the dozens of things you hated admitting to yourself about the situation you were in, you almost liked it better when he was mean to you. There was less guessing, less overthinking when he’d simply throw you around, fuck you, and then leave. 

Over the following days, your conflicting feelings over the slight intimacy he was displaying, a kiss on the forehead here, a meal that wasn’t microwaved there, only grew. If there was anything you could do to gain his favor in this way, you’d do it, you’d do anything for him to be nice to you more than he was cruel. After all, you’d gotten yourself this far with your mouth duct-taped and your arms and legs strapped to a surgical bed or immobilized by the host of restraints he had in his possession. He realized such when you leaned into his touch at one point, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion briefly before he grinned. Neither of you, it seemed, were particularly experienced with whatever relationship you’d found yourselves in.

“C’mon—“ his thick Louisiana drawl made it difficult for you to discern whether he was calling you doll or darl’. Regardless, he freed you of your restraints and presented you with the first article of clothing you’d seen since he brought you down there. It was yours, and you knew exactly where you had put it in your suitcase. A slinky little satin slip that you’d bought days before the trip as nightwear, hoping you’d get lucky in some city or town along the way. The sight of it made you want to scream.

“We’re goin’ on a little date,” he said jovially. 

You shook as you attempted to dress yourself, embarrassed when he had to come over and help you get the slip over your head. The fabric was just as soft and silky as when you’d bought it off the rack, though it was wrinkled and you noticed a white stain near the hem. You supposed you couldn’t have it all.

To make matters worse, your legs were weak from the limited use of them over time, buckling beneath you as you tried to slip your feet into the kitten heels that you didn’t recognize. While Bo made a fuss about having to help you with your shoes as well, easily a size too small anyway, you could tell he relished in how helpless you were.

Finally, he pulled the duct tape off of your mouth. He handed you a tube of chapstick—cherry, though most of the label was worn off, odd, it almost looked like the one Renee had. You could care less, though. It was the first time your mouth was untaped for something other than eating one of the disgusting microwave dinners he brought you or him fucking your throat until you cried. You applied the used chapstick liberally, rubbing your lips together in hopes it would soften them some. 

“Gimme a twirl.” He whistled as you did so with the grace of a newborn fawn. “Shit, oughta enter you in the Miss Ambrose pageant. Knock all them other girls outta the park.”

Miss Ambrose. The posters were plastered throughout town when you arrived. You could only imagine what the qualifications for the winner would have to be.

He brought you upstairs, no knife to your throat this time, but you knew better than to try something when he always had that or a gun on him. Besides, you were far too weak to even make an effective escape attempt. You trudged forward through the shop, almost at the door when you stopped suddenly, catching a glimpse of yourself in the small mirror on the wall.

The reflection wasn’t you. It couldn’t be. The woman who stared back at you was worn-out, beat up, pathetic—you couldn’t accept that he’d done that to you in, well, you really didn’t know how long he’d kept you down there. If Bo noticed your shock at your appearance, he didn’t care, as he pressed a kiss to your bruised, bare shoulder before throwing his arm over it and leading you outside, into the cool night air.

A cigarette was nestled between his fingers in his other hand, and you felt yourself start to sweat at the sight of it. Normally, the worst he would do was blow smoke in your face, amused by your evident discomfort. A not so distant memory of him putting one out on your thigh, cigarette in one hand and video camera in the other, nearly made you tense up. It was almost as if being out of the restraints, out in the open, made you feel more vulnerable to his cruelty.

He offered the smoke to you, and for half a moment you considered taking it so as to not upset him, but you allowed yourself to meekly shake your head. To your relief, it was the right move.

“Good, these things’ll kill ya. Hate to see somethin’ like that happen to my pretty girl,” he said, taking a long drag on the cigarette before flicking it aside.

You could barely keep up with his long strides, the prolonged weakness in your legs and impractical, ill-fitting heels doing you no favors as he led you down the deserted streets of Ambrose. 

The town lit up like it was taunting you, highlighting all of the things you would have noticed if you weren’t too busy making heart-eyes at the handsome mechanic to let them fade into the background. Flickering street lamps laughed at you as you walked up main street under Bo’s arm, making some grand walk of shame past every red flag you ignored, every chance of escape you fumbled. Then again, you were still alive, and Bo had made no mention of Laura, Renee, or Michelle since the night he brought you to the basement. You hated that you didn’t know how long it’d been since then. It could have been a day, it could have been forever. It felt like both.

You stumbled a bit when Bo stopped in front of a light blue, mid century-style house that had seen better days, but inside seemed to be bustling. 

“Little housewarming party for some new neighbors. Thought you might like to see ‘em,” he said.

You couldn’t conceal the shiver that ran through your body at his chipper tone, he only used it when he was going to do something to you. Most of the time, to your frustration, you couldn’t read him, but his tone of voice gave so much away. 

As you and Bo walked up the short path to the front door, you noticed vague silhouettes patterned the plain curtain in the window, though you could hear faint feminine laughter and upbeat music from inside. After school specials from the height of the Satanic Panic flashed briefly through your mind as you wondered if the torture you’d experienced at Bo’s hands was an initiation or ritual of sorts. The thought was oddly comforting, the possibility of your suffering being meaningful as opposed to simply for the amusement of a sadistic killer.

Bo knocked on the front door before finding it unlocked and letting the two of you in. He kept up the pretense of the housewarming party, making quips that fell on deaf ears as you tried to mentally prepare yourself for what you were going to walk into. You held out no hope that the women would help you, and upon entering the living room with Bo, found it wasn’t possible anyway.

No one reacted when you and Bo entered the room, his arm tight around your waist. The TV was blaring a Bewitched rerun, cacophonous with the Connie Francis cassette that was playing on the radio sitting atop a dusty bookshelf. You recognized the song as soon as it went into the chorus—Who’s Sorry Now. The unfortunate irony wasn’t lost on you, but it seemed to be lost on the three women in the room, who hadn’t moved an inch since you and Bo walked in.

Despite the chatter and laughter, it sounded like the noise wasn’t coming from the women, but rather echoed in from elsewhere. Bo’s grip on you loosened, and you took it as his unspoken permission to check out the party for yourself. Cautiously, you stepped forward, unsure of what to expect from them. Were they aware Ambrose was some fucked up murder town? Did they know what Bo had been doing to you?

A strangled scream tore from your aching throat as you saw the faces of your gracious party hosts. A woman leaned against a dingy, stained couch, forced laughter etched into her wax face. Laura. Your eyes drifted to the woman sitting on the couch with her hair curled between her fingers in one hand, the other gripped tightly around a retro dial-tone telephone. Renee. In a nearby armchair that looked like it’d been dragged out of your grandmother’s house sat a woman whose face was scrunched in clear annoyance, her arms folded across her chest. Michelle.

The resemblance to all of them was uncanny. It wasn’t until you leaned in to examine the wax figure of Laura’s face that you noticed it was far too real for your liking. In a panic, you scrambled backward, directly into Bo’s strong chest. You were sure if he had fed you before this, you would have thrown up all over the place. His sheer delight at your distress made you sure your suspicions were correct, your friends had been encased in wax, their dynamic preserved as part of Ambrose’s facade. The people in the shops, chattering you could hear coming from buildings, it was all pretend, all except you and Bo. You’d yet to meet Vincent, but you weren’t sure you wanted to, if this was what he did to his victims.

Bo pushed you onto the couch so that you were clumsily seated between Laura and Renee. You knew better than to move, remaining as still as the wax figures around you until he told you otherwise. Tears flowed freely and silently down your face.

Taking a step back, he tilted his head as he regarded you mockingly. “Ya know, Vincent might have a good point—you’d fit into the scene real well.” 

Out of the corner of your watery eyes, you could have sworn you saw Michelle’s eye twitch from her spot in the armchair. God, was she still alive in there?

“Well darlin’, I can’t blame ya for wantin’ in on this girls’ night here. Seems like you’re missin’ out on a lot of fun,” he said, grinning as he stood over you. “Me and you have a whole lotta fun too, ain’t that right, Y/N?”

Your breath caught in your throat, and you choked out a sob at the use of your name, him giving you some of your personhood back was almost too much to handle. He didn’t appreciate the significance of the gesture, or maybe he did and just wanted you to get the fuck over it. Regardless, he let out an impatient growl at your lack of response.

“I’m waitin’ on an answer, doll,” he demanded.

“I want—“ your voice was hoarse, the words clawing their way out of your throat. “I want to stay with you.”

“Yeah?” he whispered, eyes black as he leaned over you, using his body to cage you into your spot on the couch. 

All you could manage was a weak, “Yeah.”

“Guess it’s time to bring you home to meet the family, then.”

He kissed you on the lips, the first time he’d ever done so. He didn’t seem to care that your lips were woefully chapped and bruised, as he deepened the kiss as soon as you began to kiss him back–when did you start kissing him back? Your brain felt fuzzy. It was nice actually kissing him, even though he seemed like he was more concerned with claiming you. Still the situation was fucked up, making out with the man responsible for you and your friends’ misery right next to their wax-preserved corpses. If this constituted a party in Ambrose, you’d decline the invitation next time.

After a few minutes, he broke from the kiss and pulled you up from the couch. He made a show of announcing your departure to the girls, thanking them for putting on such a great party, adding to his own amusement and your crushing guilt. 

The walk back to the gas station was quiet, despair overwhelming you as you neared the building, unsure of how long you’d be stuck in the basement again. 

As you began shuffling over to the front door, he grabbed your arm, stopping you in your tracks. 

“Where d’you think you’re goin’? Didn’t I say I was bringin’ ya home?”

“Yeah,” you answered.

“Get your pretty ass in the truck, then,” he said, smacking your ass for emphasis.

He opened the passenger door, and you maneuvered to the middle of the bench seat, correctly assuming he’d want you right next to him as he drove. You weren’t sure where his house was or how long the ride would be as he cut on the engine and began driving up the street, past the fake shops and the blue house where your friends would remain, a twisted, parodic form of themselves preserved forever.

The radio was playing the same heavy metal you’d hear playing from above in the gas station, but you were no more familiar with the artists than you were when you first asked him about him, your sad attempt at flirting that the lonely and insecure part of you figured was harmless, not even considering the worst that could happen.

As he drove the truck up the road, toward a house on a hill, he glanced over at you every so often. The light from the dashboard illuminated his features, and you allowed yourself to take him in, frustratingly handsome and charming when he wanted to be. You wondered if it’d be easier not to feel so soft for him if he were some disgusting old man. 

Bo’s hand gripped your thigh. “Ya look like a damn dream in that.”

“Thank you,” you said, a small smile appearing on your face. 

You’d give him that much, for all the names he called you while putting you through your wildest nightmares, he never said anything negative about your appearance, and if the reflection in the mirror you saw earlier was any indication, you’d been looking rough for a while.

The truck finally stopped, and he helped you out of it, his hand on the small of your back as he led you up to the house. He unlocked the door, and when you walked into the foyer, you were almost surprised that, for the most part, it looked normal and lived-in, clothes strewn about and empty cans of beer on several surfaces. Undoubtedly a mess that smelled of must, cigarettes, and something you couldn’t quite identify. 

Still, at least it was a house and not a windowless torture dungeon. You knew to count your blessings and not comment on the state of the place. It wasn’t often women like you moved up in the world of unwilling captivity. Besides, if you played your cards right, maybe he’d let you clean a bit. Jesus Christ, who were you? Wanting to clean up after him, be this psychopath’s housewife? You sighed. You were whoever he wanted you to be.

“Tired?” he asked.

You shook your head. With the exception of your first night in Ambrose, wherein he went easy on you, as a rule, Bo liked you awake and somewhat alert when he was around, and you knew he wasn’t bringing you to his house for a candlelight dinner followed by a romantic slow dance in the kitchen.

There wasn’t an opportunity to inspect much else of the house, as he began leading you upstairs. All of the doors down the long hallway looked more or less the same, off-white as a result of time and tobacco smoke, streaks of what you assumed was blood on each of them. He stopped in front of a door on the far end of the hall and opened it for you, pulling you inside.

Bo’s room, like what you’d seen of the house, was an organizational disaster. You weren’t sure what to focus on first. It wasn’t until you did so that you realized you should have asked, but when you noticed the stack of Polaroids on top of a nearby dresser, you grabbed them. Each one was of you in various states of torture and pain, framed similarly to the other ones in the basement. He scrawled something beneath one of the photos, and you were able to make out the chicken scratch as your name and ‘pretty when she cries’. The gesture was romantic by Bo’s standards, and you set the photos back down, almost overwhelmed.

Bo walked up behind you, pressing his crotch into your ass so you could feel his erection. One of his hands wrapped around your throat, the other playing with the hem of your slip. He gave your throat a light squeeze, and you remained still, waiting to see what he’d do next in the unfamiliar territory.

He turned you around, giving you a rough kiss before shedding you of your slip, still intact as it pooled at your feet. You almost let a giggle escape from your lips, so he really did like how you looked in it. He wasted no time in pushing you back onto the bed, and you gasped, light and airy at how nice it felt. A real bed, messy and unmade nonetheless, but compared to what you’d been strapped to, it felt like you were floating on a cloud. 

Bo took off his clothes, fully nude before you for the first time. You noticed similar scars around his ankles as those around his wrists but knew better than to stare. Besides, there was so much more to look at when it came to Bo. He was a lot of things, but you’d never accuse him of not being hot. It was one of the first things you’d noticed when you first saw him, and finally getting to see him on full display made your core feel pleasantly warm.

There was no foreplay, none of the pain or cruelty you’d come to expect as he climbed over you. Instead, he pounded his long, hard cock into you, no more concerned with your pleasure than usual, yet your body betrayed you as you neared orgasm despite how roughly he handled you. It was the first time you weren’t restrained while he fucked you, and you had no idea what to do with your hands. 

Hesitantly, you reached up, caressing his cheek. Fazed by the intimacy you initiated, his thrusts became erratic, and he took your hand, kissing your palm before pushing your arm away. Then, as if to remind you who was in charge, not to get too comfortable around him, he, in turn, slapped you across the face, and you came around his cock with a moan that sounded almost foreign. His orgasm soon followed, and he cursed under his breath as his hot cum pumped inside you. 

To your disbelief, he didn’t drag the act out any longer, pulling out of you and allowing you to settle into the pillows. He reached over to the nightstand on his side of the bed—was this now your side of the bed? Would he let you sleep in it with him?—and shook a cigarette out from the pack, sticking it in his mouth and lighting it with a rusted Zippo lighter. 

“Gonna be tough findin’ another girl to keep down there who’ll do it for me like you,” he mused, taking a long drag from his cigarette. “Got real lucky with ya.”

Your heart lurched at the thought of another woman down there. You quickly convinced yourself it was out of empathy, after everything that Bo had put you through, to hell and back until you were a shell of yourself and somehow lucky to be alive, you wouldn’t wish that on any woman. 

The part of you that now belonged to him, broken and dependent, seethed with jealousy at the possibility of his attention being divided between you and someone else. He’d spent so much time with you while you were down there, would the other woman get the luxury as he fed and fucked her. Other woman, as if she’d be his mistress, his honey on the side, rather than a captive just like you. You hated yourself, feeling pathetic as ever for having such thoughts.

Despite yourself, you whispered, “No.”

“Whattya mean ‘no’?” he asked, his angered expression quickly dissolving into smugness upon noticing how bashful you were, avoiding his gaze. He couldn’t have that, now. 

Gently lifting your face, he forced you to make direct eye contact with him. “You jealous? Want me all to yourself?”

No. Maybe? Yes. You gave a weak nod at his question, hoping he wouldn’t make you confirm such out loud. You were never as lucky as he was.

“Say it to me, darlin’,” he ordered, his voice soft as he pulled the answer from you.

Humiliated, you gave him what he wanted, all the while mentally convincing yourself otherwise as you admitted tearfully, “I want you to myself, Bo.”

Snuffing the cigarette out in the bedside ashtray, he took your face in his hands and kissed you with an uncharacteristic sweetness, before slyly suggesting a shower together, your first one since you’d gotten to Ambrose. Thoughts of him fucking you mercilessly against the shower wall made you squirm, but it meant you could finally use real soap, maybe even wash your hair. You nodded in agreement, to his further delight. 

You noticed your bags in the corner of the room, mostly undisturbed except for your suitcase, which he had clearly rifled through to get the slip you had been wearing. At least they were still there, maybe he’d let you wear your clothes from now on, even if it was on his terms. You wasted no time in grabbing the bag that housed your makeup and toiletries before following him into the bathroom.

He woke you up the following morning with your choice of engagement rings in a plastic bin—you shuddered to think of what happened to their previous owners—all glittering boldly and promising eternity with a man who would return to you with blood on his hands and fire in his eyes late at night, the predator finally claiming his prey after the long, drawn out chase. Your head was always going to end up mounted on his wall.

#bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair #bo sinclair x female reader #slasher x reader #house of wax #slashers #slasher fandom #slasher community #house of wax 2005

[weirdozjunkary]

I made another small fic for the movie version of the MVA AU cause I think its fun. It might evolve into its own thing unrelated to MVA, but I really like this funny au of an au

Wedding crasher

(Another movie MVA AU fic oneshot)

The sun beamed down on the beautiful Hawaiian beachside. It was a beautiful day for a wedding. Beautiful it was. But maybe too much.

Triiiing—Triiiing! Triiiing—Triiiing!

Toms phone began ringing before Rachel and Randal could exchange their vous. “Sorry! Sorry! My bad! I thought it was on silent!” Tom nervously chuckled as he shit off his phone. He revived daggers from the bride who already hated his guts.

Triiiing—Triiiing! Triiiing—Triiiing!

“So help me, Thomas!” Rachel shouted at him.

“Sorry! Sorry! Let me just take this! I’m so sorry!” He said and ran off to the side to take the call as silently as he could. “What?!” He silently shouted at the hedgehog from his phone. “This better be an emergency, or so help me I’ll…. What’s that noise?”

“Oh uh… there is a little bit of an emergency!” Sonic sheepishly said. The wind blowing wildly into the phones receiver.

“What’s going on? Why are you so close to the camera? Did you get into trouble again?”

“You could say that….” He had no idea how to tell him what had happened. I mean, how do you explain that you grew 50-feet in one knight, turned blue, an angry echidna has teamed up with a man that you both thought was dead by now, and now you are again running away from them with an unconscious fox in your palm because they want you dead. Actually, knowing Tom, he wouldn’t really be that surprised by any of this.

“Oh my god. Do I really need to come home, now?

“No no no! You’re good! I just need you to throw the ring I gave you, like right now!”

“What? Why?”

“Listen, I got only one ring on my right now, and it won’t be big enough! I need you to throw it, NOW!”

Big enough? What the hell did he mean by that? Was he bringing a truck through or something? “Okay, just hold on a minute! How do I even do this?!”

“Just picture where you want the ring to go! Now picture this!” Sonic struggled to turn the phone around to face the front of him. There, what Tom saw was the massive snowy mountains of Siberia.

“Why are you in Siberia?!”

“JUST THROW THE DAMN RING!”

At the alter, though trying to enjoy the moment, Rachel noticed Tom, silently yelling to the hedgehog whom she suspected to be at the other side of the phone. She sighed. Of course, that little devil had caused enough destruction to her life, even if it was minor. What was he even doing now? Oh god, was he really bringing that little idiot here? Now of all times?

She watched as Tom threw the ring he had in his pocket and created that familiar golden portal that she had seen Sonic use at least once before. But what she didn’t expect was for it to suddenly double in size. The sight managed to catch everyone’s attention.

Screaming came from it. A booming scream that grew increasingly louder and louder, and Tom grew increasingly more and more shocked. He jumped out of the way just as a giant hedgehog fell through it. The ring disappeared not long after.

“Ugh… ow…” Sonic groaned, slowly sitting up from the now ruined grass.

“S-Sonic?” Tom said warily. “Are…. Are you alright?”

He waved a hand to him. “Hey. Yeah. I’m good.”

“Good, good… because YOURE IN SO MUCH FUCKING TROUBLE!”

“Language!”

“DONT BACK TALK TO ME! WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED TO YOU?! YOU GREW FIFTY FEET IN TWO DAYS?!”

“Actually like five minuets.”

“WHAT?!”

“Okay, Tom! You need to calm down!” Maddie said, putting a hand on him. She pointed to the hedgehog. “Now YOU! Talk! Now!”

“Okay, long story short. I got hit by presumably this magic emerald which caused me to be like this. Robotnik came back with this echidna name Knuckles and now they’re trying to kill me! I grabbed Tails and- wait- TAILS!”

“Wait- Tails? Who is Tails?”

Sonic looked around him and lifted up the still unconscious fox from the dirt. He poked him with a finger. “Tails, please! Please wake up! Come on!” He lightly shook his hand.

“Sonic. Give him to me.” Maddie said.

“O-okay. Alright.” Sonic stammered. He gently placed the fox on the ground in front of her. God, he was really banged up. “Please, Maddie! He has to be alr-AH!” Sharp pain stuck into his shoulder. He put a hand over it and looked at what had hit him. Sleeping darts. Hundreds of them. Heavy duty ones too.

“Sonic?” Tom called out in worry.

“Wait! No…. I have… to…” A drowsiness came over him almost instantly and he struggled to keep his eyes open. “No… Tails…” He crashed onto the ground with a shaking thud, his hand falling into the altar beside him. Just after, various men across the crowed had drawn out guns they had kept hidden in the wedding ceremony.

“What the hell?!” Tom cursed.

“Randal, why do all your friends have guns?” Rachel said.

“It’s okay everyone, we’re federal agents.” Said a man holding up a badge. He turned to Tom and Maddie. “You really should have brought me up on that brunch Mister and Misses Wachowski.”

Tom squinted his eyes. “Olive Garden guy?”

“Correct. Though you may call me by my credentials. My name is Commander Walters, and as a federal agent, I’m calling jurisdiction on this site. We knew you still had the hedgehog in custody, Wachowski, but we knew you would never hand him over willingly. So we decided to create ‘operation catfish’.”

“Operation catfish?!” Rachel shouted. “You mean to tell me, that this ENTIRE WEDDING was a SET UP?!”

“Rachel, please. Listen to me.” Randal calmly said.

“IM DONE LISTENING!” Before she could do anything, she was held back by two men.

“I’m so sorry.” Randal said sombrely.

“Hey wait!” Tom shouted as he ran towards the army men who began to pin sonic down with rope, lots of it. “STOP IT! LET HIM GO!” He punched one of them in the face before two more pinned him to the ground. “GET OFF OF ME!”

“What are you doing?!” Maddie exclaimed. “Sonic isn’t a threat! He’s on our side!”

“He’s an uncontrolled extraterrestrial, and right now he is over 15 meters because of some ‘emerald’. He is more of a threat now than he has ever been!” He turned to the men, who now had Sonic, Tom, and the unconscious Tails in their custody. “Secure them here until the copper arrives.”

The rest of the men shooed everyone else away from the scene. Even Maddie and Rachel, who now had to figure out how to save the three of them.

#textpost #fanfiction #sonic fanfiction #tumblr fanfic #sonic au #MVA au #sonic movie #g/t #sfw g/t

[ghostflowerhotpotch]

So I'll just tell myself all of the things I can't say to you yet (Fic)

Third Chapter here!

Pairing: Ghostflower (Miles x Gwen.)

Chapter: 4/4.

Summary: The plan was easy, get her dad out of the apartment, and made sure Miles didn't see her embarrassing song lyrics about him, nor the rest of things she keeps from him; how wrong could this go?

(What she didn't think, is that sometimes things can go wrong in the best way possible.)

Gwen was mad at herself for still not being able to find a way to get her dad out of the house.

Funnily enough, is not something she ever really had to worry about before the "incident" happened. Despite trying to keep an entire identity a secret, she never had trouble ensuring to do it when her dad wasn't looking or needing to be too careful when coming home; since he was a police officer he did a lot of night shifts, all of them becoming more prominent when he became a Captain.

Is funny how she remembers being bitter about it when she was younger, resenting the number of times her dad called May to look after her when he needed to leave out of nowhere because of work. She becoming grateful about it when she became spider-woman was a surprise, and most of all to miss it now.

"It doesn't help needing to hide a friend was something I definitely never had to deal with," She thought bitterly, as her dad inspected the door she stupidly had tried to use as an excuse.

Her first idea has been to ask if he was going anywhere or if he needed to buy anything; with his new job as a coach he has started to look at places and prices to see what he could ask the university to get and what could be better than what they have; this has somehow reminded him that Gwen asked about getting oil because her squeaking door.

As he inspected the door, Gwen decided to hope he was busy enough to realize Gwen was looking around clearly trying to find something.

That wasn't exactly distressing; knowing how Hobie's watches worked she knew he didn't hop to another dimension because the spectacle those do would have to show up even with a wall in between. The guy was also able to become invisible, though she wasn't sure if he was going to do that with the wounds he had, she hoped he didn't. The possibility of him jumping out of the window is always high with any spidey-person in general.

But she didn't hear the window, which she should have even if she was focused on her dad. Her Spider-sense also was telling her there was a spider-person close, even if it couldn't indicate exactly where; so he wasn't far. There was only one door in her room too, the place wasn't also insanely big; the space below her bed was so small only a cat could get down there, so really the only other place she could think of-

"No," Her eyes fly to the closet, feeling her heart stops as she considers the possibility, "Please tell me he isn't there."

Because she didn't think of him opening the damn closet, she didn't try to cover or hide anything, just left it on the floor of the closet. There is no way he wouldn't see it, goddammit considering they both have excellent night vision for all she knows she may be reading some of her half-made lyrics.

Walking slowly, keeping in mind her dad was still looking at the hinges (he liked to act like he knew what he was doing even with things he had no clue of,) until she was finally in front of the closet. Trying to be casual, she gave one tap to the door,

Ruffled sounds came from the closet, as if someone was fighting her jackets and, pages? (Oh no,) the doors opened a little, as the furniture itself was startled. She thought she saw something fly from the closet as if its contents were trying to go away, and she put her hands to close it shut without a second thought (too much time hiding secrets give you those habits.)

"Gwen?"

She turns to her dad, who has stopped mumbling to himself about AW-04 or something else, and was looking at her mildly concerned and confused.

Trying to play dumb, she said "Oh, I may need to organize my closet better?" She tries to say, probably sounding less convincing than she could.

Because freaking Miles was in her closet, probably looking at her embarrassing crush shit!

Saying Gwen was screaming inside would be an understatement, and yet below the gaze of her father, she just smiles awkwardly and tries to pretend she is not about to lose it.

As she was trying to process that, she didn't look too much into what has escaped from it; yet the fact seemed to have caught the attention of her father. As he walked towards her, she casually positions herself between the closet and him, hoping he wouldn't look there.

Just when Gwen realizes her dad was concentrating on what fell on the floor, the man is kneeling to pick up the first picture of her and Miles, the same one she treasured for months before having new ones.

Her dad arches an eyebrow as he gets up with the Polaroid in hand, and says "You know? With how much you treasure this thing, I would think you would put more effort into safekeeping in a better place."

"Oh this has to be a joke," She thought to herself, imagining what Miles would think if he had the chance to see this pic and realize what her dad means, and the answer was probably more likely than she wanted it to be.

"Treasure seems kind of a strong word, don't you think?" She replied, awkwardly laughing.

Yes, she knows she is doomed, she has a notebook full of his name with way too corny lyrics, pictures, and a plushie; she couldn't look more desperate than that. Miles already had seen enough, he didn't need to hear about how much that photo meant to her.

Sadly, the universe seemed to hate her because her dad refused to accept the dismissal.

"Are you serious?" He says baffled, the rumble of his laughter in the back of his voice "Gwen, you disappeared for months, and the only reason you set foot on this place, aside from not having a way out of this dimension; was to get this picture. You literally ignored my presence, took the Polaroid, and try to leave before I could wake up. If of everything out of this house, this was your primary concern, doesn't that have to mean something?"

"Wow dad, I could almost be impressed you caught all of this, in any other moment EXCEPT THIS." She thought to herself, wanting nothing more than to take a pillow and scream.

The notebook wasn't enough, the pictures weren't enough, and the plushie wasn't enough. No, her dad needed to give a discourse about how much of a goner she was.

Was this how Miles felt when she was in front of his parents? Somehow, she felt she had it worse because at least his mom didn't mention him being so corny as to keep a picture around almost like a charm.

As her dad give her the polaroid (with her keeping it close to her chest as a reflex; honestly most of the time she was very mindful with the photo.) He moved away quickly enough, as she let her head fall down defeated and tired.

"Mmm, I'm kind of hungry, what do you think of getting chinese?"

"NOW is that you find an excuse to leave?" Gwen thought exasperated.

Taking a deep breath to remember she would rather not let her dad see her crush hiding in the closet with probably just half of his clothes; Gwen keeps her composure enough to say "Sure! Sounds good, Do you think you could go and order there directly? You know, less time for the food to get colder."

Knowing exactly what place her dad would go, since they have menus of some of their favourite take-out places; she tried to think of something that could take some extra time since she still wasn't sure if Miles was feeling okay enough to go to his dimension yet, or perhaps crash someone's else.

She may or may not have been reading it from beginning to end just to avoid needing to talk to Miles about, this, but who could say?

Once she decided on her food (with a comment from her dad for taking too long,) she stood at the entrance of the apartment as her dad closed the door behind him, and just on cue, she overheard her closet being opened.

Letting her head go against the door, she thought "Ground swallow me up."

As her indeed, annoying bedroom door squeaked open, she heard Miles say "For the record, my middle name is Gonzalo."

"Great, he read at least one of the songs, wonderful."

 As she turned around, she saw Miles leaning on the door frame on his side; he had the notebook in his hands, and he smirked mischievously at her; despite still missing his top and having scratches and bandages.

Sighing, she decides she should get over it, "Look, I know this looks bad-"

"Bad?" He says, a bit shocked, the corners of his lips still up as he moves away from the door and walks to her "Hey, I can't say much, you saw all of those drawings I did-"

"That's different." She scoffed, crossing her arms as she looked to the side.

"Yeah? Why is that?"

"At least you are over me now," She said, sounding more bitter than she would have liked to be.

It was dumb- this was her fault, she pushed him away, and she was the one who lied to him to the point he needed to he ask for space. She couldn't seriously get worked up about this. 

"Beg your pardon?"

Okay, Gwen didn't really want to look Miles, not wanting to make things worse for herself. However the tone of voice he used caught her attention.

When she looked back at him, just a few feet away from her with the notebook closed; he was looking at her like he needed to make sure his ears were actually working.

Blinking, she bites the bullet "You asked me to give you a few months to be away so you could, process everything? And then I was just one of the spidey-gang to you? What I am missing here?"

Almost in slow-motion, his eyes opened wildly, before running a hand through his hair "So Margo and Hobie weren't exaggerating with me acting differently- I know I was able to tone it down a lot but I didn't think I was playing it off that well."

"Playing it off- Wait, so you mean-"

"I have feelings for you?" The words came almost like a laugh out of Miles, shaking his head "Sorry, is just- after acting like a lovesick puppy around you, and what you told me when we saw each other again, and the after; I thought it would have better to try to move on, not that I ever did. My love for you never went away."

My love for you never went away.

Something about those words made her heart flutter in excitement; she wanted to bask in that feeling, to think of what those words meant.

But she was good at keeping track of the unspoken things in a conversation, as well as keeping an eye on things that would make her miserable.

"Wait, what did I say to you?"

"The bit with Gwen and Spider-man not working out? I thought you well, preferred not to risk it; that was the last time we hinted at the topic."

As the memory of her time in the organization, her old loyalties, and what she did, she felt as if a bucket of cold water dropped on top of her, drowning the previous happiness she was feeling moments ago. With her mouth suddenly feeling dry, she didn't think of a response before Miles was talking again.

"I didn't think you would feel like this- Well, or friends try to tell me about it, if only to push me to move things forward; I thought you just wanted to be friends."

"How could you think that, as if I'm not constantly doing dumb shit because of the exact opposite?" She thought to herself.

Except, she knew exactly why.

Feeling more bitter by the second, she let out a laugh, as her hands formed into first. She was doing it again.

She was doing it all fucking again, wasn't it?

"Gwen?"

"Is just stupid," She says angrily, not bothering to clarify if it was the situation, or her; truth being told, it was both. "I told you that, because I thought it was part of one of the canon events."

"Oh."

"Yeah, those;" She agreed; one of the things they ended up doing while trying to sort the mess after the HQ fiasco, was to realize that canon events weren't really a thing. It was a bunch of complicated crap that she couldn't dwell on right now, but she couldn't believe she had fallen for it too; and had stood aside when Miles has needed her. "But honestly? I mean, I am almost not surprised that I'm doing it again."

"Wait, do what?"

Gwen didn't face Miles, she couldn't take it; not when she was this angry, not when she felt the tears try to build in her eyes as she felt the impulse to throw something. "What I always do, mess things up!

"Miles, hear yourself out," She said, sounding almost maniacally out of the sheer desperation she was feeling "You thought this, for a stupid comment I said. You forced yourself to act differently around me because you thought I was feeling uncomfortable.

"And now look at this!" Turning around, she pointed at the door where her dad had left "I needed to hide you out, I was trying to find an excuse for my dad to leave; because somehow I couldn't find a way of saying 'Hey dad! My friend got injured on a mission! Do you mind if I help patch him up?' No, I try to make a circus because I didn't want him or you to know about this.

"And that's just the tip of the iceberg, that isn't even talking about the messed up things I did! Do you want to know, how many nights I was awake for months, thinking if I had perhaps, just perhaps told my dad about my identity at the right moment, could I have talked about it with him accepting me, instead of him trying to point a gun at me because I waited to the last possible second?

"Want to know what happened to Peter, to my best friend?" Her voice broke at his name, because her heart knew when she meant B and when she meant him, "He tried to become the lizard trying to be like me Miles, because I prioritized being Spider-woman instead of a good friend; and want to know the worst part of it?" She let the words linger, if it was for Miles benefit, or her own cowardice, well, who was to say? "He knew it was me, he said my name, and he tried to take my mask off, to tell me everything was going to be okay."

Gwen hated the feeling of hot tears coming down her cheeks, how she didn't want to try to open her eyes knowing she would just cry so much she would not see straight. The words continue coming out without her permission, the desperate cry she tried to keep hidden for so long was finally coming out, and would do it regardless if she wanted or not.

"I didn't let him," she admitted, ashamed "When he said my name, I try to play dumb, I took his hand away from my mask. My best friend was dying in front of me, and to the last bitter end, I try to keep him at bay, to keep him away from my secret identity. And the last time I saw him alive I was using a mask that only let me see so much, and he couldn't see my face as he wanted. I denied my best friend his dying wish."

It was so fucked up, she was just so messed up.

"I just, keep doing this," She shakes her head, not believing to which degree she would go with this "I didn't say anything to you, to the point I was driving you away. I pretended I could keep my feelings at bay by writing half-baked songs and keeping anything that reminded me of you; but all I did was to do more stupid things trying to hide it. It doesn't matter how many times this keeps happening, I just don't seem to learn my lesson.

"Is not fair," She says as if it doesn't sound childish, the pleas of a girl who is acting as if the reason for her suffering wasn't her own fault, "Is not fair to my dad that even when he is trying, I can't seem to want to bridge the gap. It wasn't fair to Peter that I pushed him away until the bitter end. And is not fair that you need to try to bend backwards, all because I can't seem to open up, because I prefer to write notes rather than tell you to your face that I love you!"

"I'm not-" She couldn't finish the sentence, before more tears came out of her, as she finally couldn't hold it anymore.

God, why she was like this? She just, couldn't.

It didn't matter if it was her dad, her best friend, or her crush- it all happened the same way. She would get afraid, keep something she shouldn't keep, and it would explode in her face. It didn't even need to be someone close to her, what did she do before? Lying to Jessica about the mission so she could go to Earth-1610? Try to keep her whereabouts away from Miguel?

Gwen could be spiderwoman, but there was one part of her she hated with all her being, the one she couldn't seem to shake. Because deep down, she knew she was a coward.

And she didn't deserve the people in her life.

She didn't deserve a father who as flawed as he was, was trying to do the right for her as she keep lies on top of lies. Her friends didn't deserve someone who keep everyone at bay, to the point she tend to pout her feelings more on lyrics than actually speaking about it. 

And Miles deserved better than a girl who could only say I love you after admitting it would be better for everyone in her life to leave her. Yet all she could do now was this, cry pathetically after everything she had tried to keep down has refused to disappear.

It was truly a shame how Gwen view herself, as Miles was seeing this in a completely different light.

The smile has been wiped from his face, as he had put the notebook on the table; he felt his own mouth go dry as he watched the girl he loved sobbing for the weight of her own guilt.

Miles knew she was reserved; heck, Margo and Hobie had commented on it, being the reason why they had told him to be the one to do the first step. They didn't think Gwen would try it.

But he doubted they understood to which degree this has affected her.

"Is not fair," He has agreed with her on something, and that it wasn't fair to her. It wasn't fair to carry all of this on your shoulders, to keep quiet about so much. Looking at Gwen, he couldn't help but feel his own heart break "She looks so small."

Gwen was someone he has always admired; from her fighting skills to her quick thinking, she has seemed like the most put-together on their original rag-tag team of Spideys when all of this started for him. Despite being his age, she stood her ground, has been able to hide and adapt better than Peter B and the others; and seemed always in control.

Right now she was hunching, her body facing the side as she herself was ashamed of her feelings and was trying to hide it from Miles, her hands covering her face. She wasn't the badass girl that has hastily told him he didn't get to like his haircut. She was so much more than that.

He wouldn't call her weak, definitely not for this; not for being human. But it reminded him that below the calm, collected mask, was a real person underneath.

As she cried her heart out, she seemed like a normal girl, a stressed-out teenage girl. Because at the end of the day, everyone has their breaking points; Miles just wished he could have been able to do something about it before.

"I may not be able to do something before, but I can for now," thought to himself, as he walked up to her.

While he tenderly touched her shoulder, she went rigid; as if she hasn't expected or heard him come; spiders tended to be that silent.

"Hey," He greeted softly, even if Gwen still had her face covered. Gently, his hand hovered on top of one of hers, fingertips touching softly so as to not impose "Can I?"

Can I see your face? Can I wipe your tears? Can I be the one you lend on?

He wasn't sure what to ask, letting the question open for all the things he wanted to say, to do for her; it was about time that he did so without fear.

She seemed frozen, yet slowly, she moved her hands away. Her eyes were red and puffy, her button nose was also a tone pink he couldn't help but think it was cute, traces of tears were on her cheeks, and more were building on her eyes; however she was still quiet, as if she was containing herself.

He didn't want her to do that ever again.

"Is okay," He told her kindly, as his hand fell on her cheek, cleaning the tears; all moving slowly, giving her the chance to reject it or move away if she needed; she didn't. "Is okay if you are still sad too."

"What are you doing?" She said instead, obtuse.

"Being here for you," He answered without missing a beat, casually wiping away the tears from her other eye, while his other hand still rested on her cheek, "As I wanted to do for a long time."

"Is my-"

"No," he refutes still, not letting her finish the sentence "It doesn't matter anymore."

"It doesn't- Miles, look at this, look at yourself, it keeps happening, I keep doing this." She said with bile, as if she couldn't stand herself at this moment; her gaze going to the side as if even while so close she refused to see him out of anger, "None of you deserve this, I don't deserve-"

"No," he repeats again, adamant.

Scoffing, Gwen says "Miles, cutting me off doesn't change reality."

"It does because it isn't real," he affirms confidently, or perhaps stubbornly; "Not for me, I refuse to accept it."

"You cannot do that."

"You were about to say you don't deserve me?" He pointed out, with her going quiet "To say you don't deserve your dad, or Peter, or the gang? It doesn't matter."

"How can you say that?"

"Because none of us were ever here because we thought we 'deserved' you," He told her straight to the point, his voice firm, before dropping softly "Is because we love you."

She went quiet, looking at the ground but not fighting him anymore.

"Gwen, I don't know who forgot to tell you this, but we aren't here for you because we think we deserve someone like you in our life, we do it because we like being around you, for who you are." He said as he moved a strand of hair away, seeing his face better as she was lifting her head and finally, looking at him. Despite everything, her eyes looked so fearful.

"Even as she looks like she wants to fall apart, she is so beautiful," He thought to herself.

Even with her eyes swollen, looking like she wanted to shut down; she was the most beautiful woman he has ever seen. From her piercings to the watercolor eyes and her tooth gap, he had always remembered to draw (he didn't want an idealized version of her, he wanted to draw her as she was.) As long as it was her, it didn't matter the situation, she would shine.

This wasn't the time to dwell on that, but he would remember to tell her that later, and probably again. He didn't want to keep things hidden anymore, especially not when this mess has partially happened because he also didn't try to talk things over. He also had experience in messing up that way.

"You aren't the only one who has kept secrets they shouldn't," Miles said somberly, gathering Gwen's attention as her eyes opened slightly in confusion and surprise. Is funny, considering she knew about this; "You remember that I lost my uncle, right? Holding his hand in his last moments; and I couldn't talk to anyone about it."

"Miles that wasn't your fault."

"It wasn't," He accepted, and has done for a while. It took him time to realize that; he hopes Gwen realizes that in her own situation too eventually; "How do you think, my dad felt when he realized I kept his lasts words to myself for over a year?"

Gwen stood there in surprise, while Miles himself let that sink as he felt the bitter taste in his mouth at the thought. He still remembers his father's melancholic face, as he took in what his brother said, the grief he still had about the subject, as well as the pain that Miles deprived him of this information for this long.

Miles knew his parents understood that he has been afraid, in all honesty, part of him wished they could have been harsher at him; he would take his dad's anger any day of the week over the disappointment and betrayal those news has been for him. But they were working on it, they were doing their better to talk and understand each other better, even if it wasn't always easy.

He was thankful to them for teaching him that, now more than ever as he consoled Gwen.

"I messed up," He admitted, freely, as he looked into her eyes "In more ways than one, and that wasn't the only time. It happens."

"But I keep doing it-"

"Then try again," He said immediately, softly and without judgment.

Which was all he found in Gwen's gaze as she said "Why? Why would you trust me with that? What makes you think I would not do this again?"

He wouldn't, not that it was the point, he trusted her that much. But there was something about this conversation that brought into mind something Margo mentioned; how Gwen's feelings for him couldn't have been a secret for what she did. Now that he knows how she feels about him, that day feels like it has gained an entirely new meaning.

Yet there was still something he needed to know.

"What you were supposed to do, when we saw each other again?"

"What?"

"That day, when the Spot ended up opening another hole in the multiverse- What were you supposed to do that day in my dimension?"

Looking at him completely at loss, she says "Miles what has this to do with anything?"

"I will tell you once you answer me."

Scoffing, she rolls her eyes before whispering to herself 'fuck it, what difference does make it now.' Taking a deep breath, she says "Spot ended up traveling to a bunch of dimensions on a dime, almost by accident; we caught a whiff of what was going on when he was back in Earth 1610. The original plan was only to monitor him, since he was back in his own dimension; my mission was to watch over him and made sure he couldn't do his hole trick again."

"And, you weren't supposed to see me at all."

Shaking her head, she says "Miguel didn't want to involve you at all, he even had his reservations about me because, you know," She gestured to both of them- wait does that mean Miguel somehow put two and two together about them before Miles even registered it? "Jess was the one who gave me the mission, she trusted me more than Miguel did. But she didn't want to involve you either, if it was for her I would have been hidden below that bridge the entire time until I needed to interfere."

But that was not what she did, she opened the portal to his room; before even realizing it was his room. She was given a mission to keep the lunatic scientist from traveling to other dimensions as he pleased (though none of them realized how dangerous he could be back then,) and what she did was to get to him as soon as she was able and hug him. 

As a grin started to appear on his face, Gwen scoffed "Yeah yeah, you can laugh; it was dumb."

"No- I mean, I don't think so;" Could prioritizing seeing someone you had missed over the safety of the multiverse be called dumb? Maybe, would have Miles done things differently had he been in Gwen's shoes? Not in a million years. "I'm just, happy to hear that."

"What, letting a nutjob get away by being too desperate?"

"If it helps, I would have done the same for you in a heartbeat." He says earnestly, still cradling her face as the tears finally started to disappear; even if it was because the topic was less upsetting for her. As he saw her annoyance leave her face, he said "But don't you get it? You were doing it already."

"Doing what?"

"Showing how you feel."

"..."

"Think about it," He says with a smile, remembering that day "You came to see me, and hug me before I even had the chance to register you were here. You spend as much time as you could with me until the watch told you something happened. And then when we saw Margo well, looking back you weren't subtle."

Clicking her tongue, she quickly replies "Okay, at least half the reason for that was Peni-"

"What?"

As if she realized she had said too much, she moves her hand dismissively, "Nevermind."

He probably wouldn't, this reminded him of some things Hobie was talking about before- maybe he should talk to Margo later, if only to find a way to return the favor.

"My point is, all of that was there," He reminds her, going back on topic, "When we were seating in the Tower, I thought you didn't want to be more because of what you say, and somehow didn't think of all the other little things you were doing. Even if you say you have a problem talking things out, you always find a way to show it, right?"

Her lips formed a tight line, unconvinced, and replies "That's not good enough."

"I mean, you can do this," With his hand that is not on her cheek, he takes her own, giving it a tender squeeze, "You just did it, too; you told me what was wrong."

"I didn't have much of a choice."

"You could just say you didn't want to talk about it," he shrugs nonchalantly "You certainly didn't need to tell me about how you feel about your dad, or Peter; but you still did, you are still trusting me that much."

Gwen seemed to want to find a rebuttal, but any words died in her throat, and Miles didn't give her much of a chance before saying.

"Is okay, if is still tough, if you have trouble opening up, all this means is that you just need to continue trying, and we need to remind you that we are here for you, one way or another."

Even after all of this back and forth, it seemed like there was something holding her back, almost like even with Miles telling her it was okay, she couldn't let herself believe it. Without more arguments, she asks a softly, defeated "Why?" She whispers to him "Why after all I told you, after all I did, you still want to be here?"

That has to be the easiest question he has answered all night. 

"Because I love you."

He had implied that much before, but hadn't said it yet, funnily enough Gwen technically beat him to the punch earlier in the middle of her rant. If they could talk things out, make this right- he hoped he could get to say it a lot more.

"When I was hiding before, I was thinking about that; how long I had feelings for you, but rather than these feelings changing because of the distance and what happened between us, I realized I just found new ways to love you. To realize there is a lot more than the badass hero I met initially, to love being around you regardless if we are on the suit or not. I saw your lyrics, the pictures, and the plushie, and not even once I thought I was mad at you for keeping this away from me, I was just so happy.

"You used to do ballet, until you needed to leave because Spider-people don't have a good track record with being on time or being there when needed. You had been hitting things with your hands for so long your dad decided to get you a drum set. The first time I saw you fight, you were so swift and well pulled together it made me wish I could train you if only to hope to get half the ability you have.

"You have a tendency to gravitate around people, hitting a shoulder, leaning on someone, hugs- sometimes I think you try to hold those impulses more than you let on" To that comment she suddenly looked to the side, oh he was going to remember that for later, "You remember little things, like how I like to draw, or the name of my parents; even if I don't think I told them their names more than once.

"You are caring, fierce, and once you know what the right thing is you would fight the world and back for it." He continues his praises to the unbelieved gaze of Gwen, that seemed dumbfounded at the idea that he was saying all of this; as if he didn't think that every time he laid his eyes on her. "You are impulsive, a tad reckless, and hold on too much.

"And I love that, because I love you, with all the caveats and falls;" He explains, moving just a bit closer, wanting her to directly look at him and see in his gaze how much she means to him "I didn't fall for you because I thought I deserved you, I just did. It doesn't matter the pain, the misunderstandings, or whatever spidey shenanigans we end up; I still want this, I want to be with you."

Gwen has never been the most expressive person, trying to keep her feelings to herself out of self-preservation. Yet finally after all of this, she was smiling at him, it was small with the tips of her lips just going a bit up, but this one time he saw her eyes shine at him and didn't think he was making it up.

Getting a step closer, their faces inches away from each other, leaving enough space for her to still say no and take a step back "I want to be there for you when you are angry but you don't want to talk about it, when you are sad and you don't know what to do, I want to take you to dates and I want you to get mad at me if I mess up because I would rather have you talking than you hiding from me. I want to go out with you and get to hear all the things you never talk about, good or bad.

"Can I do that? Can I go out with you? To give us a chance?"

Gwen laughs, the same type of laugh he needed to try to contain earlier. As she giggles her face breaks into the biggest smile he has ever seen on her, she looks at him as if she can't believe it; "I don't know how you keep doing it, but you always find the right thing to say."

He smiles at her, and as he looks at her lips, he looks back at her eyes knowing they are way too close for her to not notice that "So, is that a yes-"

"Please," As he hears the laughter in her voice, she takes a step further and kisses him, throwing herself as she put her arms around his shoulders.

Grabbing her waist as he makes sure they don't fall (and kept to himself a groan as the wounds in his back didn't particularly like holding weight all of the sudden,) it only took him a second before he kissed her back. The faint sting of paint wavered as he felt her warm against him, her lips were soft and he tasted the salt of her own tears and took it away as he reciprocated.

The smell of her shampoo filled him as he felt his chest explode in ecstasy, a long dream becoming true yet nothing could have ever prepared for it. No fantasy or dream could ever come close to the feeling of finally having the woman he loved kissing him, hugging him as if the world was about to end.

Even if Gwen wasn't saying anything, just as always, her feelings shine in her actions. The longing for a kiss they both had wanted for so long, the softness of her touch as she tried to be mindful of his back, the want she felt as after breaking apart to breathe she didn't take more time than she needed before kissing him again, showing all those feelings she wanted to keep at bay.

It was a few minutes before they finally stop, Gwen putting her forehead against his.

"So," He says, a bit hazy, the kissing may have messed up with his brain a bit but he was not complaining, "I guess that's a yes on being my girlfriend?"

Chuckling, he can't help but notice that he likes the sound of her laugh just as much as he likes feeling it as they hug, basking in her happiness like a sunflower following the sun "I will be mad if I wasn't."

"Cool"

"Cool," She repeats at him.

And then, out of nowhere an outside voice says "Cool, can I come in now?"

"DAD?!" Gwen screeches as detangles herself from him so quickly he hastily grabs the wall; yeah just because he pretended to be fine didn't mean he was. "What are you doing!?"

"Well, I was calling the restaurant to tell them the order on my way there, and they said the restaurant was packed and it was going take way longer than what I was expecting. I was going to ask if you wanted something else when I heard screaming and figure you didn't want me to be involved."

Gwen's shoulders drop, letting a tired sigh as she said "How much did you hear?"

"Not much, once I heard you talk about Peter and ah, what happened, I went outside to take a short walk, and now I just came back after hearing a bunch of cools, if there anything you want me to know?"

Miles's attention picked at that; not a 'what's going on' or 'what happened,' but directly asking if there was anything she was okay with sharing. Perhaps he has been aware of this issue more than Gwen gave him credit for.

He saw her tense, probably stressed out about what to do; so taking a couple of steps until he was right beside her, he took her hand and says "Hey, whatever you want to do, I'm here in your corner, okay?"

Gwen seemed surprised, before smiling back at him as she squeezed his hand "Thank you."

This was obviously, going to be a long road. The fears Gwen had were bigger than Miles, something more problematic and difficult than just a nice speech and a few kisses; but he was ready to do it all for her.

Because Spider-man doesn't has a 'The End,' just a 'to be continued', and he wanted to see what a route to her beside him would look like. 

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Oh man how the fuck I made this so goddamn long. This was going on for so long that I almost thought of adding another chapter, but no, I'm done; I have other things to work on. A big chunk of this chapter was written after I had seen the barbie movie, writing a good part on it with a lack of sleep and hearing "What I was made for" on loop at 2 am in the morning, and I think it shows. It wasn't written in one go but boy it wasn't without penance. Even if a lot of this was fueled by existentialism and other things that are illegal in other countries, I don't think this fic was ever going to get a happy, fluffy ending without some angst thrown at it. Aside from the fact that if you look at my other works this is the least surprising thing coming from me, this story has been about it even before I decided it wasn't a one-shot anymore. The fact that Gwen would go to absurd lengths to keep things a secret rather than having a mildly awkward conversation is present ever since the second chapter, and as easy as it could have been "We are both idiots how the fuck we put two and two together," that's not how I roll. I would apologize, but nah, this is my story after all, and it wouldn't be mine without someone losing their shit because believe they aren't good enough or something. I think that's all, I need to eat something (is 3:30 but I refused to eat until this was over,) and do other crap. If you like it please leave a comment and kudos! This story wouldn't have passed the first chapter without them.

#ghostflower #gwiles #miles morales #gwen stacy #fanfics #atsv #across the spiderverse

[leosmasktails]

By popular demand of @eoncintran & @skye-minecraftyt-blog, and probably some other people, I bring you part two!

(I am so sorry this took forever to finish, I was having so much trouble ending it so I hope you enjoy it!!!)

Part 1

Disclaimer: This is a tickle fic so if you’re not into that just scroll por favor (everything is platonic and meant to be family fluff lmao-)

Warnings: prolly just cussing and a bunch of fluff

Word Count: 1,981

————————————————————————

That Brought Me Back : Part 2

“Okay, Peepaw,” Leo released Casey and cracked his knuckles for dramatic effect.

“Your turn.”

“Peepaw?” Leon snorted at the nickname his younger self had given him. He couldn’t even lie, it was pretty funny.

He needed to stop fueling that ego of his though.

The three teens paused their attack plans, waiting to see how this would play out.

“Yeah, cause you’re old.” Leo smirked at the visible change on Leon’s face, standing up and dusting himself off.

“I’m only like, forty, kid.” Leon shot back and rose to his feet as well, adding to the playful tension that Leo was so clearly wanting to build up.

“See? You’re so old it took you a billion years to do basic math!” Leo dragged on, hitting a nerve in the older slider.

“Okay- First of all, pipsqueak, it took me less than five seconds to do basic math, and second of all, we didn’t really have time to keep track of birthdays in the apocalypse.” Leon stepped forward, firmly planting his foot on the ground.

“Sounds like a skill issue on your part, abuelo.” The teen shrugged, his smug look driving Leon insane at this point.

“We are literally the same person.” Leon stepped forward once more, the younger Leo now shuffling himself backwards.

“So, you mean I’m going to look like that when I’m forty?” A look of disgust took over his face.

“Ooh, that’s gotta sting.” Mikey’s little comment could be heard over the silence that suddenly struck the room.

Casey and Mikey had remained seated on the ground this whole time, eyes darting back and forth as if they were watching a tennis match.

The red-eared sliders paid no attention to the two sitting on the ground, keeping fierce eye contact with one another.

Leon could read what this kid wanted crystal clear. As much as it pained him to do it, he gave in.

Little Leo wanted to start a fight? So be it.

“Alright, c’mere you little goblin!” Leon charged at Leo, sending the boy into a giggle fit almost instantly as he sprinted around the room.

“Noho! Get bahack you balding, elderly mahan!” Leo screamed and began ducking under various obstacles to try to slow Leon down.

“We’re all bald, kid!” Leon huffed as he quickly blew past the obstacles and remained right on Leo’s tail.

For a big turtle, he was surprisingly agile.

Leo never would have expected that being chased by himself would be so terrifying. Now he knew how Mikey and Donnie felt.

Leo had to focus, Leon was gaining on him and he-

“Gotcha!” Leon grabbed Leo by his midsection, a surprised shriek escaped the teen’s lips.

Leon picked up Leo with ease, hoisting him into the air so that the back of Leo’s shell was pressed up against his shoulder. Leo attempted to lean forward and drop to the ground but Leon wasn’t allowing him, holding him firmly in place with his arm.

Leo began to pry Leon’s hand off of his plastron, struggling to lift even his fingers from his shell.

“Whatcha doing up there, huh?” Leon walked back to where they were previously standing.

“Trying to gehet your fat, ugly fihingers off of mehee!” Leo giggled through gritted teeth.

“You’re not in the position to be insulting me, kid.” Leon scribbled his fingers on Leo’s plastron, earning a couple of childish squeals from the younger slider.

Leon grabbed Leo from his shoulder almost like a football, carrying him under an arm as he took a seat on the floor. He expertly pinned his younger self in-between his legs so that his shell was snugly secured. Leo pushed at the older’s knee, struggling to get himself out of the grip and kicking his heels against the ground for more traction.

Leo glanced at the older slider, who was leaning back on his one arm and enjoying watching Leo attempt to escape from his trap with a shit-eating grin plastered across his face.

Leo’s brain scrambled to produce an idea that would get him out of this mess.

He couldn’t think of a quick solution, unless…

His mind went to something that not even his brothers knew about him.

Yeah, that could work…

Leo stopped struggling and moved his hands to a spot on Leon’s thigh, the older slider’s eyes started to go wide.

He wouldn’t-

He did.

Leo squeezed the spot rapidly and Leon scrambled to grab the kid’s hands, his eyes shooting up to see Casey and Mikey’s mouths gaping open in shock.

Leon looked back down at his younger counterpart, who was now giggling sheepishly as he tugged at his hands that were in Leon’s iron grip.

“Alright, Leonardo,” Leon smirked, “Let’s see if you can take what you dish out.” He let go of Leo’s hands and quickly began squeezing the spot that Leo had just exposed.

The reaction was almost instant, high pitched laughter exploded from the younger turtle. He threw his head back and kicked his legs around wildly, his struggle proving useless against Leon as he wasn’t being affected by his movement whatsoever.

“Wait a minute,” Mikey’s brows furrowed at this new piece of information, “Since when was that a spot?”

“Since always,” Leon smirked, “I honestly don’t know how you guys didn’t find out about this one.”

“STOHOP GIVING HIM MOHORE IDEAS!” Leo shrieked, falling into another round of deep giggles when Leon squeezed a little harder.

“Bud, you did this to us, not me!” Leon chuckled, he never realized how contagious his own laughter was.

“CAHASEY! MIKE! HAHELP MEHEEHEE-” Leo managed to spit out through his laughter.

Leon whipped his head to Casey’s direction.

“Casey Jones Junior, don’t you dare.” Leon threatened, glaring playful daggers at his mentee.

Casey’s eyes grew wide at his threat, contemplating what he was about to do.

Casey let a tiny smirk take over his face.

“I’m sorry, Sensei,” the boy winced and looked back at Mikey, making sure they were on the same page, “but it’s payback time!”

The next thing Leon knew, he was knocked over by the force of two teenagers crashing into him, letting out a winded laugh.

Leo was set free upon the impact of his brother and Casey jumping his attacker, rolling away from the action to give himself a breather.

“Get him!” Mikey yelled, immediately going for Leon’s underarms as Casey scribbled the sides of Leo’s shell.

Leon was fighting the laughter that was bubbling up in his throat, not allowing the teens to have the satisfaction of what they wanted.

“He’s using the tactic!” Casey shouted, turning to Leo, “Leo! We need you!”

Leo let a slow grin take over his face, much like the one Leon had worn minutes before.

Leo stood up and menacingly walked over to the older slider, towering over him as he sat on top of his legs.

“Like I said before, Peepaw,” Leo emphasized the nickname, placing his hands on the spot on Leon’s thighs that drove the both of them crazy, “It’s your turn.”

And with that Leo began his attack on Leon, whose eyes widened at the new addition to the onslaught as he bucked and kicked wildly, his giggles coming out choked and gravely.

“Aww, c’mon grandpa! You gotta let it out!” Leo sneered.

“I wouhould- rather dihie!” Leon growled through gritted teeth, unable to fight the growing urge.

“Sensei, don’t say that.” Casey scolded, continuing scratching along his shell.

Leo rolled his eyes.

“Dude, c’mon, laugh already!” He moved his fingers up every so slightly, and with enough force, triggered a response in Leon’s nervous system.

“FUHUCK! GEHET OFF!” Leon’s giggles practically exploded from his chest, the three teen’s faces lighting up instantly, “LEHEO PLEHEHEASE!” Leon managed to spit out.

“Aww, they laugh the same!” Casey grinned down at Leon’s smiling face. He couldn’t remember the last time he had seen his Sensei laugh like this. It was nice.

Both slider’s cheeks went pink at Casey’s comment, leaving Leo too flustered to continue in aiding Casey and Mikey in attacking Leon.

Leo sat back on Leon’s legs as best he could with all of the kicking. He made eye contact with Leon, giving him a ‘better you than me’ look and smirking.

The look alone sent Leon into another giggle fit. Leo broke out into a full on grin, watching as his older counterpart was left in stitches by the hands of the two teens.

As fun as it was, he could tell Leon was reaching his limit. He guessed he would be the responsible leader today.

“Okay, team, we can take a break from killing the old man for now. Peepaw needs to breathe!” Leo sat forwards and grabbed both Casey and Mikey’s shoulders.

Casey and Mikey pulled away from the older slider, sitting back as Leon instantly brought his arm up to his torso to protect himself.

“Sensei? We didn’t kill you did we?” Casey poked his shell, making Leon jump and grab Casey’s hand.

“Cahase!” Leon growled before letting his head fall back to the ground again, unable to keep the dumb smile off of his face.

Leon adjusted his grip but didn’t let go of the kid’s hand. Casey didn’t seem to mind, in fact, he also adjusted his grip to match Leon’s.

“Are you good?” Mikey rested his chin on his arms, placing them on top of Leon’s plastron as a genuine smile painted his face.

“Yeah, I’m okay, Mike.” Leon sighed happily, he couldn’t even lie that he thought about these moments with his brothers more than he’d like to admit. “I would give you head pats but I currently only have one arm.”

“That’s alright,” Mikey closed his eyes cheerfully, “Just being here with you suffices!”

Gosh this kid was too sweet. He never grew out of his sweet side either. Yes, Dr. Delicate Touch made his appearances, but Mikey had always been his cheerful little brother. He knew how to make anyone smile.

“You better be happy I spared you there, buddy, I could have just let them murder you.” Leo jokingly crossed his arms over his plastron, closing his eyes as he nodded.

“Oh, don’t even, you little shit!” Leon propped his legs up, propelling Leo backwards. Leo giggled childishly, rolling to a stop before getting up and resting his elbows on Leon’s knees.

“I’m gonna get you guys back someday,” Leon rolled his eyes fondly, “But today is not that day.” He admitted defeat for now.

“We’re okay with that.” Casey grinned, squeezing his sensei’s hand before letting go.

“Hey, do you guys wanna order a pizza and watch a movie?” Leo asked as he used Leon’s knees to stand up, his stomach growling softly. Mikey perked his head, nodding excitedly.

“Pizza sounds great, little me.” Leon sat up, reaching his arm into the air and making a grabby motion with his hand, “Help me up, will you?”

“I got you, old man,” Leo took his hand and pulled him up.

“Again, not that old.” Leon rolled his eyes, shoving his younger counterpart’s head down.

“Ok what kinda pizzas do we want tonight guys?” Mikey asked, following behind the others as they made their way into the other room.

“Let’s go ask Donnie and Raph what kinds they want, and then we can all have a movie night.” Leon suggested, putting his hand on Casey’s shoulder and pulling him into his side.

“You lowkey be a genius sometimes, older me.” Leo put his arms behind his head.

“Why thank you,” Leon matched his energy, making the other turtles and Casey chuckle as they left the room.

Moments like these made life worth living, and Leon promised his brothers he would keep going for them.

He might have lost himself in the beginning, but eventually, the kids he could now call his younger brothers changed that.

They brought him back.

#rottmnt #leosmasktails #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise!leo #rise leo #rise leonardo #sfw blog #rottmnt leo #rottmnt leonardo #future leonardo #rottmnt future leonardo #rottmnt tickles #sfw tickles #rise!casey #rise casey #rottmnt casey jr #rottmnt casey jones #rise!mikey #rise!michelangelo #rise mikey #rise michelangelo #rottmnt mikey #rottmnt michelangelo #rottmnt fanfiction #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles tickle #future!leo #peepaw leo #ticklish!leo #ticklish!futureleo #lee!leo

[frownyalfred]

ao3 wrapped [writers edition]

Created by @floydsin. I stole it from @lurkinglurkerwholurks

How many words have you written this year?  327,224 words! Dang!

How many works did you publish this year? At least 20, probably more.

What work are you most proud of (regardless of kudos/hits)?  borderline. That plot was complicated for me and it took a LOT out of me to write it.

What work of yours has the most hits?  borderline.

What work of yours got more feedback than you expected?  a sky of honey. I was surprised at how many people liked the previous fic and wanted to see more! I didn't expect that.

Favorite title you used?  savestate. it's a bad pun that made me laugh.

If you use song lyrics, which artist’s songs did you pull from the most?  I owe Kate Bush for most of my fic titles, lbr.

Pairing you wrote the most for this year?  Superbat <3 my beloved

Favorite pairing you wrote for this year?  Lex & Bruce in a sky of honey was actually a surprise fave. Lex's dialogue and bickering with Bruce is so much fun.

What work was the quickest to write?  Ironically, the first few chapters of borderline.

What work took you the longest to write?  bloodletting takes a while to update because of the mando'a translations. Probably 3-4x longer than a normal chapter update.

How many WIP’s do you have in your docs for next year?  Just one or two so far.

What’s your longest work of the year?  a sky of honey, clocking in at 95,618 words.

What’s your shortest work of the year?  do it again.

What WIP are you taking into next year with you? too many...

What’s your most common “Additional Tags” tag?  not beta read...so real, bestie.

Your favorite character to write this year?  Probably Thomas Wayne, surprisingly. He's so funny to me.

The character that gave you the most trouble writing this year?  Bruce.

What’s one pairing you want to explore next year?  Clark/Slade

Which work of yours have you reread the most?  borderline since I needed to remember where I was going while writing it, and then probably bloodletting.

How many kudos in total did you get this year?  39,650

Which work has the most comments?  borderline. though I had to delete a LOT of threads there so it's probably even higher.

Did you do any collaborative works this year? I bother @januariat every few days to discuss a sky of honey, so yes.

Did you write any gifts this year?  Several for @audreycritter and @lurkinglurkerwholurks

Did you receive any gifts this year?  Yes -- several from @audreycritter and @lurkinglurkerwholurks as well as a few from folks writing about borderline and a few of my shitposts. Thank you friends <3

What’s your most common category?  Gen, somehow?

What do you listen to while writing?  My increasingly complex spotify playlists. Depends on the type of writing.

Favorite work you wrote this year? I actually really liked nocturn and synchronicity.

Favorite line/passage you wrote this year?  It's so hard to decide. Probably one of the mando'a jokes I made in Jason's dialogue.

Biggest surprise while writing this year?  People do still tell you to kill yourself over fanfiction online! Bizarre.

#ao3 #ao3 wrapped #ao3 year in review #writing #writers #fic #fanfic #myfic #theresurrectionist #I'm not gonna tag anyone but feel free to do this if you want!

[mariaofdoranelle]

i saw this meme on ig about how someone got in trouble for “destruction of government property” because she gave her husband (who is in the marines) a hickey that was visible in uniform — now i have no idea how this would fit into look at us now but it could be a fun add eventually 😂

DEAR ANON, I LOVE YOU

Look at Us Now — Ch. 3.5: Strip Away My Conscience

Fic masterlist

I have a good chunk of ch. 5 written, but got completely sidetracked by this prompt lol I hope you like it. Just reminding you that this happens very early into the fic.

Warnings: NSFW, language, illicit hickeys

Words: 2,8k

“I texted Sellene. She’s coming to visit,” Fenrys said while chewing.

Rowan nodded. “When?”

“Now.”

Taking a deep breath, Rowan faced away from his dinner to glare at his roommate. “Tell me you did not ask my very pregnant cousin to come here just because you felt like it.”

“Rowie Bowie…” Fenrys sighed, his voice disappointed while he used the most unserious nickname imaginable. “We need to have a serious conversation.”

“Okay…” Rowan trailed. Fenrys’ serious conversations could be anywhere from a food craving to an actual serious conversation.

“Imagine you’re the most amazing housewife you’ve ever seen.”

Rowan hummed, weighing his answer carefully. Fenrys’ games could be a dangerous thing. “The picture-perfect type, or the Big Little Lies type?”

“Picture-perfect. Funny, gorgeous, long blonde hair. Amazing roommate.”

“Are you describing the housewife, Sellene or yourself?” He eyed his friend warily. This description also fit Aelin, but Fenrys didn’t know about Rowan’s—affair? Entanglement? Fling?—with her.

“The housewife. Which is me. Let me finish—“

“You know you have to actually do something around the house to be considered a housewife, right?”

Fenrys threw a napkin at Rowan. “Asshole. I’m a great housewife. Now let me finish.”

“Go on.” He snorted and focused back on dinner. Rowan had made meat on a stick today, and he wouldn’t let his food go cold because of Fenrys’ nonsense.

“So, picture this. You’re a housewife. You and your husband don’t have sex—“

“This is getting weird.”

Fenrys shushed him. “You and your husband don’t have sex, but you tell each other everything. Then…” he placed both hands on the table and leaned closer. “He starts getting home late. For weeks. Until, one day, he comes home with a hickey. What would you say?”

Rowan stopped mid-bite, then chewed it slowly, buying himself time. Considering Fenrys told he was the housewife, and Rowan had been arriving home late, this could be tricky. He had little to no idea what this was about, though.

“I’d say this hypothetical husband could be having a hypothetical affair.”

“Exactly!” Fenrys was gesticulating a lot, a telltale sign of his agitation. “And considering that the husband always tells the wife everything—“

An incoming call from Rowan’s mom interrupted the conversation.

That’s weird. This was an unusual time for his mom to call.

Did something happen?

Rowan grabbed his phone as fast as he could, heartbeat picking up with the realization that this could be an emergency.

“Mom?” He blurted without even excusing himself to take the call.

“Son, you are in so much trouble.” Rowan’s shoulders loosened up, now that she seemed okay. His mom didn’t sound relaxed, though. “I cannot believe I have to learn from Sellene that you have a girlfriend!”

Rowan’s whole body stopped. He looked at his phone as if he could see his mom through it. What the hell was going on inside Rory Whitethorn’s head?

“Mom, I don’t have a—“

“It was about time, honey! Every time before I go to bed, I pray and ask Mala to—“

“I’m not dating anyone, mom!”

“Well, then why did Sellene call me to tell she’s going to help you hide a hickey with makeup?”

“A hickey?” Rowan rubbed his neck with a full hand. “Why do you think I have a hickey?”

It was Fenrys’ booming laugh that made his mind go blank and restart.

Rowan’s stomach dropped.

He snatched his friend’s phone from the table, swiped to open the camera and, indeed, there was a gigantic hickey on the base of his neck.

What the hell.

“…I’ll be waiting for you to send me a picture of her after we hang up. And you never confirmed if you’re visiting for Beltane. Are you bringing her with you?”

Rowan swore internally. His mom wasn’t the type to pressure him too much, but the closer he got to thirty, the more hopeful she got about his love life.

“Mom, I don’t think I’m bringing anyone. Or sending pictures.” He sighed. “It’s not serious, okay?”

“Oh.” A pause. “Well, sometimes these things take time. You’re still taking her on dates, right?”

He didn’t answer.

“Rowan.”

“What, mom?”

“You are taking her on dates, aren’t you? Paying dinner. Making sure she gets home safe.”

Silence stretched.

“Rowan Whitethorn, this is not how I raised you!” Her voice raised to a strident, inherently mom tone that gave him war flashbacks from his teenage years. “You’re practically thirty years old! You need to stop fooling around and at least look for someone to settle down with…”

He let his mom keep scolding him and ran to the living room when he heard the bell ring. And just like she told him, Sellene was waiting on the other side of the door, holding a bag that he assumed had makeup inside.

She gave him a side hug and leaned closer to his phone. “Hi, Auntie Ro!”

His mother finally stopped lecturing him. “Hi, dear! Glad you made it alright. How’s the baby?”

“Way too comfortable in here, I want her out!” Sellene had an exasperated tone, but patted her pregnant belly affectionately.

He said goodbye to his mom while Fenrys greeted his cousin, then they all sat on the couch.

“Was it a beast?” Sellene asked.

Rowan tilted his head. “What?”

“The thing that bit you on the neck.”

Fenrys’ loud cackle boomed in the living room, followed by Sellene’s.

Rowan groaned. “You’re never gonna let me live this down, aren’t you?”

His cousin slowly shook her head. “Not a chance in hell.” She turned to his roommate. “Thank you, Fenrys, for telling me the juicy gossip and saving Rowan’s ass.”

He made a mock bow in response right before Sellene moved to sit by Rowan’s side and opened her makeup bag.

“I want my things back as soon as this bruise fades out.”

Rowan tried to not look annoyed. He was grateful his cousin was here to help him, but he wasn’t comfortable with this whole situation. Besides, why wouldn’t he return her makeup?

“That’s too bad. I was thinking of keeping your mascara.”

Sellene affectionately slapped the back of his head.

“For when you get another hickey, asshole. Now let me see which foundation matches your skin tone better.” A beat. “And give Fenrys your phone. We need to record this so you can do it again in the morning.”

Rowan took a deep breath, tried to relax and let Sellene do her thing.

This was nothing more than a reminder that he should end whatever was going on with Aelin. She’s his student, she has a boyfriend she’s lying to him about, and having sex inside any military base is a crime.

This fling was a fucking dead-end street.

And yet, Rowan knew he would be waiting for her at his office tomorrow evening.

˜˜

“Watch those steps!” He barked.

Rowan rubbed his neck and shoulders, trying to get rid of the stiffness there. He didn’t understand why did his students’ performance get ten times worse when they were marching in the rain.

”Allsbrook! You’re walking like Michael Jackson, watch your knees!”

The young man turned to Rowan, and his eyes widened a second later. Then his step faltered, nearly colliding with the recruit behind him.

“Don’t look at me, look ahead!”

They had been doing this for a whole month now, why in hell were his students looking at him so much? Even Aelin, for Mala’s sake.

“Forty on the floor after the march ends!”

It’ll easily become fifty push-ups or more if it stops raining, but his students already know that.

After both classes from this afternoon were done, Lorcan texted him asking to meet before he left the base. It was probably something about his schedule. What he couldn’t stop thinking about was this situation with Aelin.

What was supposed to be a one-night stand became an illicit affair, and now he was knee-deep into this shit. Fenrys knew, and he’d never drop this until he knew what was going on. Sellene knew. His mom knew.

Deep down, Rowan knew he needed to end it. As much as he knew he wouldn’t.

Worst case scenario, they’d stop in five weeks, when Aelin’s basic training ends and she leaves to the hospital, a whole block away from him.

Rowan shook these thoughts off and entered Lorcan’s office.

“You said you wanted to see me—“

“Whitethorn!” Lorcan stood up from his chair with both hands on the desk. “Tell me why the fuck is every newbie and their mother talking about this fucking vampire bite you have on.”

Fuck.

Rowan’s eyes widened, and he immediately put a hand above the purple spot.

“That’s not supposed to be there.”

“No shit.”

Groaning, he sat on the chair before Lorcan. “I mean, I covered it with makeup before coming to work. Sellene taught me and all.”

“You did a shit job at it. I can see everything.” He slowly sat back, eyeing Rowan warily. “You done for today?”

Rowan nodded in response.

“‘Kay. Don’t let anyone else see this, you hear me? Especially high-rank. You fucked up real bad.”

“I told you, it was supposed to be covered,” Rowan said through his teeth.

Rowan’s pulse was thundering between his tight muscles. He wasn’t mad at Lorcan, though. He was mad at himself.

He didn’t know if it was the rain, his sweat or something else that made the makeup fade, but that hickey shouldn’t even be there in the first place. Committing a disciplinary trangression like this, putting his career at risk, was a lot more than whatever he had with Aelin was worth.

“This is destruction of government property, you know.”

“What?” Rowan tilted his head. That was a way to snap him out of his thoughts.

“You.” Lorcan pointed with his index finger. “Are government property. This.” He pointed at Rowan’s hickey. “Is a transgression. Now you’ll leave base without letting anyone see you, and when you get home, you’ll tell that vampire you keep in your dungeon to stop damaging government property. And do better makeup tomorrow”

He nodded, understanding a command from a superior when he saw one, but still added, “There’s no vampire in my dungeon.”

Lorcan scoffed, “Then who’s the girl?”

There’s the problem with being friends with your boss. One minute he’s scolding you, the other he’s prying about your love life.

“There’s no girl.”

“A dude, them?”

Rowan groaned. “Okay, there’s a girl. I’m not talking about it.”

“It looks like she was trying to suck your soul out of your body from that spot, man.”

He bit his lip, forcing himself to not laugh and hoping his cheeks didn’t blush. That was a weirdly close description of what he and Aelin were doing last night.

His conversation with Lorcan wasn’t as scrutinizing as the one he had last night, though. He thanked Mala his friend wasn’t a big gossip as he left his office.

And went to his own.

It wasn’t to see if Aelin would be still waiting for him. He just needed to drop a things off first. Rowan’s body definitely didn’t relax when he saw her in a spot close to his office, but not so close so it wouldn’t raise suspicion.

“What took you so long?” She asked after looking around to check that the hall was empty.

He unlocked the door to his office, and only answered when they were both locked inside.

“Captain Salvaterre wanted to see me.”

“Was it about the hickey?” Aelin clamped her lips together, but the ends of it were still tugging up.

Rowan frowned. “That’s not funny.”

“It is a little.” Her giggle was as tiny as the tug Rowan felt in his chest. He heard her moaning quite often, but not her giggles. It was a good sound.

Rowan loosened her hair and tugged, tilting her chin up.

“I’m fucking that sass right out of you.”

Her breath hitched. “Please.”

Rowan pressed their lips together in a long, all-consuming kiss, feeling all the weight on his shoulders leave with a flick of her tongue. He had one hand still on the back of her head, while they used the other to fumble with each other’s clothes. Sometimes opening, sometimes groping. Aelin tasted like opioids and nicotine and everything addictive in the world, flavored with the grapefruit mouthwash she used.

She broke the kiss to fully take her clothes off and sit on the edge of his desk, and Rowan took it as a cue to kiss her lower. He trailed kisses on her collarbone and worked on her breasts, until he pinched one nipple and—

She winced.

Rowan immediately stopped. No matter how rough they got, and a wince was never his response.

“Everything alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, sorry.” Aelin frowned at her boobs. “They’re a little tender. I must be getting my period soon.”

He resumed his caresses, gently kissing and licking her breasts while one hand slipped between her folds. “Is that better?”

She whimpered. “Very.”

Rowan slid her closer to the edge of the table and got on his knees, lazily kissing her thighs until he gave a long lick on her slit. Aelin’s breath hitched, and she wrapped her legs around his neck.

Gripping her hips with both hands, Rowan savored her with long and slow flicks of his tongue. She grabbed fistfuls of his hair and choked him with her thighs, but it only turned him on more. She moaned and wriggled against his mouth as he wrapped his lips against her clit, and when Rowan plunged a finger into her, Aelin tapped his shoulder.

“I want your cock,” her beg was a little too breathy.

Rowan grabbed a condom from his drawer, picked Aelin up and took her to the couch he brought just to fuck that pretty cunt of hers.

He sat on the couch still holding her, rolled the condom down and let Aelin take the lead. After letting Aelin guide him towards her entrance, he covered her mouth with one hand, grabbing her waist with the other.

She held herself with both hands on his arms and sank down, moaning against his hand as Rowan stretched her all the way.

Aelin’s pace was slow even after it didn’t need to be anymore. She was riding him in slow, provocative moves, throwing her chest out and showing off all her curves with an arched back. It made his body burn even more for her, muscles tightening with anticipation to fuck her the way he wanted.

“You’re teasing.” He slapped her ass.

She gasped, closing her eyes and opening her mouth in a sensual O. Then said, “Maybe I like teasing you.” Aelin opened her eyes and put one hand around his neck, squeezing and tilting so she could see his hickey. “And I really, really like that mark on your neck.”

When she squeezed her walls against his cock, Rowan lost it. He held her up, threw her against the couch’s armrest so she was lying on her stomach, and buried himself inside her.

His pace was as hungry for her as he felt. Every day, all day. Right now, he felt no shame about whatever they were or what he was doing. He’d keep it as long as Aelin kept kissing around his sense of right and wrong.

Rowan pulled her hair, spanked her ass and slammed into her all at once. The way she cried out pierced through him, marking his very soul. He still had to muffle it with his hand, though.

Their frenetic pace got even more frenzied when Aelin sobbed his name and held on to whatever she could. Rowan pressed her clit and she clenched around him in response, one pushing the other over the edge. He went limp over her for a second before giving her room to sit beside him.

“That was…”

Rowan nodded. “Yeah.”

Just like he predicted, he didn’t have one bone in his body that felt ready to end things with her. To do what he should do. This would be the perfect moment, and he was her superior. He could just ask her to stop seeking him and go on about his life.

However, Rowan wasn’t the first, neither would he be the last man to be ruined by his own dick.

“Rowan?”

He turned his face to her, catching sight of the slightly damp, sweaty ends of her golden hair, and how it framed her heavy breasts.

“I’m sorry about the hickey. I might’ve gotten carried away, I’ll…” Aelin bit her lip, cheeks flushing even further. “Restrain myself next time.”

Rowan waved her off. “Don’t worry about it. Just be careful. Apparently, you’re destroying government property.”

Aelin cackled, head tilted back towards the ceiling while her shoulders shook.

“Is that what he told you?”

“Yes.” Rowan snorted. “The property doesn’t mind, but you know how the government works.”

”Do you think the government will be upset if I destroy its property a little more?” Aelin had a troublesome smirk on, eyes glinting as she sat on his lap.

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