#Such Pretty Forks in the Road

[punch-love]

..I’m sorry.. I wasn’t trying to be demanding..I wasn’t even trying to ask a third time I was just explaining that I didn’t mean have to, I just vibed from your previous message that you felt it was rude to say have to and were upset about it.. I tried conveying it w the emojis.. guess I did a bad job..and guess I’m even more annoying than I thought..you don’t have to answer this..I’ll just permanently leave you alone..I’m sorry again

I took your previous ask as: you don't have to, but it would make me, very, very happy if you did, which is still a form of asking. I felt disrespected. I did think it was rude, but it felt ruder to have someone say, "but do it because I would like to read it!" I felt that instead of explaining that you weren't saying "have to" you instead were trying to say "these are the reasons I would really like you (and I hope that you feel like you have to)" I understand where you're coming from now based on this message, but I didn't earlier because that context didn't come across.

That's my explanation for how I reacted. I appreciate that you explained your reasons behind your message because it really did feel like you were testing my boundaries. I didn't read that you were backtracking, and knowing that my response would have been different.

I felt pressured to answer something I didn't want to answer and then when I playfully tried to shrug it off, was seemingly asked again. I think being upset is a valid reaction! It was a bad interaction, but the internet is often full of those, due to the way tone/intent comes across in text. I hope in the future if we interact again (and that is your choice!) you'll understand where I'm coming from a little better. Emojis don't really read or work as tone indicators to me, but you saying "I thought you might have found this rude and were upset" in this message is a lot more honest and makes me feel considered as a person and not just a content machine, which is important to me in online interactions. I don't think you need to take an eternal sabbatical from my inbox and wouldn't ask you to but that is again, 100% up to you.

[wasp-jar]

I love you small table that I use as a night stand that I got for the pretty design and from the side of the rode and walked it home like 10 blocks but you can't see the pretty design because like all flat surfaces it became a dump ground for more than I planned it to have <3

[1-ker0sene-1]

Poly 141 x Reader

Home is where you are

"What ye think she made this time?"

Johnny mumbles, dropping his head back against the seat behind him. Blinking tiredly up at the ceiling of the truck, a daydream clear in his eyes. Simon next to him stares out the window, sweat seems to practically seal his balaclava to his face.

"We'd be lucky if anything. It's three in the fucking morning.."

Kyle says from the passenger seat. Pursing his lips a bit.

"She should be sleeping.."

Price chuckles from the driver's seat, hand on the steering wheel, paying close attention to the road.

"She knows we're on our way home. If she made something. We'll be thankful."

His other hand is resting on Kyle's knee, his thumb rubs slow circles against him.

Simons foot taps on the floor of the car silently, brows tight together. The man just wants to go home, shower, eat whatever heaven you cooked and sink into that california king mattress. With all of you, all five of you together.

"Steaks."

He mutters.

"Hm?"

Johnny questions with a hum, Simon clarifies.

"On days we come home.. it's either steak or shepherds pie. She made shepherds pie last time so it's gonna be steak."

They all salivate at the damn thought.

"It's tha little things with ye huh Simon?"

Johnny smiles warmly, leaning on his shoulder.

It was another thirty minutes driving before they finally pulled into the secluded driveway. Their safehouse. Their home. Where you are. Filing out of the truck, bags over their shoulders. Covered in grime and dried blood, they didn't even let themselves clean up at base before going home to you. Walking forward, Simon slings an arm around Kyle's shoulder. Tucking the sargeant into his side as they walk to the house. Both Johns walking behind them, Price giving the younger a good slap on the back.

"Home, boys. Let's enjoy it while we can."

Price comes forward to unlock the front door, pushing it open for the four of them. Mumbling out a reminder to take off their shoes inside. Leaning down with a grunt to pull off his boots. The others doing the same. They can already smell what you're cooking, Simon was right. The smell of steaks is pretty clear, garlic butter, some kind of steamed vegetables and spices.

The house is clean. Warm. Low lighting, some candles lit. Everything about it screams home. John opens his mouth to call out for you, but he can feel his spine practically melt hearing you hum in the kitchen.

Johnny is the first stumbling forward, hopping on one leg as he throws off his remaining shoe. Eager to get back to you. Grinning as he comes around the corner into the kitchen. He melts. Seeing you there, in your chair dishing up their plates of dinner.

".. Hey lass.."

He mumbles, feeling like all the air left his chest.

You turn your head when you hear him, the brightest smile spreads across your face. Tossing the fork down from your hand as you turn towards him.

"Hey soldier-"

You beam. You don't even get another word in before Johnny rushes towards you, you let out a puff of air as he crashes into you. Laughing against him as he squeezes you to his chest, his face buried in your hair.

"Fuckin' missed ye hen.."

He whispers. You return with one of your own.

"I know baby.. I missed you too.."

You lift your head, kissing the scar on his chin.

"This bloke botherin' you love?"

You already know that voice immediately, smiling as you turn to look at Kyle. Who is quick at your side with Johnny, his hand cups the back of your head. Pressing a long kiss to your cheek. Taking a deep inhale of your scent through his nose. You smile warmly, your hand finds his bicep, giving a soft squeeze.

"There you are Kyle.."

You murmur, turning your head to press your own kisses across the bridge of his nose.

"Always here."

He chirps, kissing on your skin. His eyes bore into you, drinking you up. Johnny huffs, mumbling something about stealing all your attention. Earning a small tug on his mowhawk from you.

"Alright you two- showers. The both of you. You need it-"

You chuckle, giving them both a hug. Giving Johnny one more kiss on the jaw. Letting Gaz get one more kiss on your face. Watching them head past you down the hall to the bathroom. Kissing on eachother, bumping into walls. You shake your head at them with a smile.

Eyes flicking back to the entrance. You find Simon staring at you, his shoulders slack and sinking. Eyes half lidded and tired. The rest of his face under the balaclava. Your eyes soften, holding out your hand to him.

"Oh Si.."

He takes the invitation. Coming over to you. He would tower over you in height. But instead he falls to one knee in front of your chair. Hands resting on the arm rests of your chair. Your hands immediately cradle his head. Leaning forward to press your head to his.

"You're home.. it's alright now .. no more Lieutenant.."

You whisper against him. Your fingertips lift the edge of the balaclava, pulling it over the nape of his neck. Over the back of his head, nails dragging soothingly up his scalp as you take the fabric away. Making him shiver in vulnerability. Putting his mask aside on the counter.

Seeing your Simons face eases the both of you, cupping his jaw and lifting his head.

"I know doll.. I know."

He mutters, you kiss his temple. Caressing his skin. Threading your fingers into his hair.

"Go shower with the boys sweetheart.. I'll be in there soon."

You coo at him. He chuckles deeply, kissing your head between your brows as he gets up. Bumping your foreheads together one more time before walking to the bathroom.

"You're not gonna say hello to me John?"

You joke, turning your head to watch said Captain. Who was holding his hat in hand, leaning against the wall watching you. He's been watching you the whole time.

"Just seein' you with our boys darlin'.."

Pushing away from the wall he walks over to you. His eyes full of exhaustion, longing, warmth. Tossing his hat on the counter behind you. He leans down, callous hands hold your cheeks. Bringing your lips to his.

He's not as sneaky as he thinks. You know of his little demand to the boys. He's the first to kiss you. Each time they come home.

You kiss him back feverishly, as much as you've been calm and steady for them. You missed your men like hell. Your hands find his shoulders, squeezing them tightly, beginning to work on the knots of tension in them. Emitting a deep groan from John into your mouth. You smile against his lips, feeling the scratch off his beard.

"Everyone's alright?"

You whisper against him. He nods, his hands finding your hips. Slightly lifting you from your chair and towards himself.

"No one's broken. .. Kyle's a little stressed. Y'know how he is.."

You nod, eyes still closed, continuing to brush your lips together.

"And you?"

"Just tired.. But I'm home. That's what matters."

John mumbles, kissing you deep again. Dipping his tongue past your lips, a soft sigh slipping out of you. Arms pulling him closer.

"Taking good care of our boys John.. You always do.. Making sure you all come home to me again... Our strong Captain.."

You can feel him sinking at your praise. The older mans knees want to buckle at your voice.

"Let's get you in the shower baby.. Hm? Get you washed and relaxed.."

You mumble against him.

You yelp as your lifted into the air by his arms, laughing openly as he carries you like a bride. Burying his nose to the crook of your neck. Carrying you down the hall, to the bathroom door. Where you can already hear the chatter of the men in the shower waiting for the two of you. John is grumbling against your skin.

"We need you darlin'. "

"Our boys and I need you bad.."

[slttygeto]

WHAT WAS I MADE FOR?

⤷ THINK I FORGOT, HOW TO BE HAPPY. | something i’m made for

જ⁀➴synopsis: your boyfriend was made to be the center of attention, to receive so much love--not to deal with your sadness like it was his.

જ⁀➴content warning: fem!reader, angst, reader is a little insecure, just v sad, satoru best boy.

જ⁀➴ word count: 0,8k.

⤷ comments and reblogs are much appreciated!

my boyfriend is so cool

that was always your thought when you went out with him for dinner. he’d invite a bunch of his friends along with their partners, and you’d spend the rest of the night chatting and laughing. you noticed how suguru was always the center of attention, even if he didn’t want to be. his best friend was equally magnetic. like a moth to a flame, they would both shine so bright.

and you’re suguru’s girlfriend. his pretty girl whom he met in college and has been with ever since. three years down the road, and many more to come, as he liked to say. you liked to believe that you and suguru were meant to be together, a match made in heaven. despite your different personalities and approach in life, you always managed to find a way to make it work.

always.

tonight, dinner tasted a little weird on your tongue. you’re sure it’s just you because everyone else seems to be enjoying their food just fine. no one seems to notice the way you scrunch up your face after the first bite, slowly setting the fork down and flashing suguru a polite smile, to which he immediately asks

“are you okay?”

am I okay? you’re not sure if you are, but you nod anyway. you squeeze his shoulder and motion at a friend who was talking to him, asking him to focus on the conversation.

you hated feeling like this. you could feel your stomach hurt, and your heart sinks a little as you try your best to fight back the insecurities. why were they resurfacing at such a time?

you weren’t supposed to feel this way. you’ve talked about this before with suguru, and he reassured you many times that he was dating you because he loved you. even three years later, you still can’t find it in you to tell him that it seems like he deserves better.

not someone who cries when they look in the mirror, or deflate throughout the day for no absolute reason. suguru deserved someone who takes care of him, not a person who is constantly so sad.

you excuse yourself from the table you’re sitting at, muttering to your boyfriend some lame excuse about how you need to fix your makeup. truth be told, if you had stayed at that table any longer, you would’ve thrown up the food and made a mess.

you walk inside the bathroom and as dramatic as it may seem, you lean against the door and let out a sob. it’s quiet, you don’t want anyone to hear you. but then it gets louder and louder until you turn on the faucet to try to drown out the sound of your cries.

this is so stupid.

you’re trying to wipe your makeup, even if it seems a little impossible to fix it right now (but you somehow manage). you’ve been in the bathroom for about 7 minutes now, and you know that if you stay there any longer, suguru would come looking for you.

you step out of the bathroom when you’re sure you look presentable and bump into a strong chest. your heart stills.

please don’t let it be—

“are you okay?” thank god, it was satoru.

you’ve known him ever since you met your boyfriend, and he’s been one of the most reliable friends ever. he was nice, kind, a little cocky but given his looks and fortune, he had a lot to brag about.

“oh, yeah. my stomach was a little upset, come on let’s go—“ you’re avoiding his eyes, but satoru can tell from your swollen lips that something else happened.

“you were crying, weren’t you?” his eyebrows are pinched, and you fight back tears when you look up at him and see the concerned look on his face.

“please, don’t tell suguru.” your voice cracks when you say his name, and satoru’s face morphs into one of confusion.

“but–“

“satoru, please. it’s not what he’s made for.”  

it’s not what he’s made for.

satoru’s lips part in shock, but he can feel his heart clenching a little at your words. he doesn’t know what to tell you, his mind is blank as he stares down at you with icy blue eyes.

“okay then, let’s go back,” he doesn’t press it, slowly leads the way back to your table and you’re immediately overflown with questions from suguru.

“are you okay? is it your stomach? we can get you meds–“

“I’m okay,” you try to reassure him with a warm hand on top of his, but the look on his face tells you that he doesn’t believe you. not one bit.

but suguru doesn’t have to know that you’re not okay. after all, he does deserve better and you’re getting in the way of that. 

⤷ the song absolutely destroyed me, so i had to write something.

2023 © all works belong to slttygeto. do not repost my work anywhere else.

[gyusrose]

➵ their reaction when you call them another member’s name prank -> enha

⚠︎ angst? lil bit of fluff ? just the boys getting angry real quick, mild cursing

someone requested this but i accidentally deleted the request i’m so sorry 😭‼️‼️

heeseung -> you know you shouldn’t pull such prank on hee, knowing how jealous he gets you were pretty much starting something you won’t be able to finish. you were feeling silly that day and decided to do it , why the hell not?

heeseung was sitting next to you on the bed you guys shared. he’s just gotten back from practice so he was very touchy and clingy. kissing all over your face and neck repeatedly , completely missing the camera facing the both of you. this was the perfect time. you giggled as he kissed you trying to push him away slightly.

“sunghoon stop-“ you said in between laughs.

the moment that name fell out of your mouth, he stopped. his whole demeanor changed in a matter of seconds.

“what did you just call me?” his voice was deep and serious.

“heeseung? that’s your name isn’t it?”

“no no no you said sunghoon, i heard it clearly, the fuck’s going on with you and him hm?” you looked at him like you were confused on what he was talking about.

“ what? nothing! i said heeseung you’re just paranoid.” he scoffed, now getting out of bed and made his way out of the room.

you giggled as you grabbed the phone recording and ran up behind him.

“babe !! it was just a prank, don’t leave!” he looked at the camera and rolled his eyes, facing anything but you.

“aw come on hee, it was funny !! you should’ve seen your face”

“don’t you scare me like that.”

sunghoon -> you and sunghoon were driving around the city. it was such a nice peaceful night. the two of you were just talking about your days when you thought of a not so great idea.

when sunghoon wasn’t looking you pulled up the camera app on your phone, knowing you’re gonna want this reaction saved. propping your phone were the two of you were on frame but also not making it obvious.

sunghoon was talking about something when you butted in.

“yeah that’s i’m saying jake- hoonie…sunghoon.” sunghoon stayed silent, side eyeing you slightly while still watching the road. you also stayed silent after your ‘mistake’ , waiting for his response.

the sudden break of the car startled you.

“say his name one more damn time..” sunghoon sternly said, now facing you.

“it was a mistake, you know i meant sunghoon!”

“you both are not even that close, we’ll not that i know of, why did his name come out of your mouth before mines? your own boyfriend?” his eyes never left yours, low key making you scared, you could feel his anger.

“you’re overreacting, just keep driving.”

“if you like the fucker so much then go be with him since-“ he stopped his tracks as he saw the small camera from your phone pointing straight at him.

it all immediately clicked in his head rubbing his temples and shaking his head in annoyance. you in the other hand couldn’t contain your laughter.

“smile you’re on camera” you said giving him a peck on his cheek.



“you had me thinking jake was better than me or something.”

jongseong-> going into the kitchen, smelling the enchanting smell of breakfast was the best feeling of the world, even more so, seeing the sight of your gorgeous boyfriend making it.

“ my princess is awake! sit down it’s almost ready.”

you sat down on the stole in from of him, watching him make the omelette on the skillet.

although you just woke up, you couldn’t help but think about this one prank you’ve been wanting to do on him for a while now. what a perfect way to start the morning right?

you started secretly recording as you continued the conversation with him like normal.

“ you look so fine right now heeseung, you’re perfect.”

jay’s hands dropped the fork he was using and slowly looked up at you.

while you looked at him with wide eyes ‘confused’ .

“ i’m sorry?” he was very offended, how could you even compare him to heeseung? what does heeseung have on you that would make you say his name all of a sudden?

“what ? you don’t like me calling you perfect?”

“you know what you said, y’all got something going on or?” he was not standing with his arms crossed, the most serious expression i’ve ever seen on his face.

“oh my god no jay! what makes you think that! i don’t even know what i did!”

“my name doesn’t even sound close to heeseung’s! you know what, i’m calling him right now an-“

“no no no babe stop stop it’s a prank look!” you showed him your phone recording.

his head leaned back letting out the biggest sigh.

“ it’s too damn early for this, don’t do that to me ever again.”

jaeyun -> “ babe let me teach you this new dance pleasee..” you said panning up the camera ask as you started recording.

jake sat up from his seat making his way to where you were standing. he was more than pleased, he loves this stuff.

“alright so you do this, then lift your arms up and then..” you kept explaining to him the made up dance you’re making him do, him following your every move. jake’s never seen this dance before, nevertheless he continues to copy you.

“but do this part really fast.” jake nodded at you doing the part you told him to do. now’s the time.

you shook your head, “ no jungwon, not that fast, like this!”

jake stood still, looking at you intently. “what? you did the move too fast now we gotta restart.”

“stop playing with me, the fuck did you just call me? jungwon?”

“ugh jake you’re probably mishearing, i said your name.”

“not at all i heard it very clear, what up with that?” he was annoyed and mad. what does jungwon have to do with any of this?

“jake calm down, i just mistook you guys, there’s a lot of you so-“

“but i’m your boyfriend! or is he? i don’t know what to believe anymore!”

you should’ve been laughing but you weren’t, you felt bad. you pulled jake into a tight hug catching off guard.

“it’s a joke, look. you know i love you and only you jakey.”

jake didn’t respond and kissed your lips passionately, you could feel the anger dissolving as the both of your lips connected.

sunwoo -> the two of you were occupied building a lego set. you loved spending time with sunoo like this, you were both pretty good at it.

y’all were conversing as you build your tower. sunoo was never in a bad mood with you, his smile is always present with your presence, so arguments almost never happen.

you shouldn’t have wanted to do this but you wanted to see how he would get, how would jealousy look on him. obviously not too harsh as well.

“ jay- i mean sunoo could you pass me the red piece over there.” you said signalling.

sunoo just stared at you in confusion, did he hear that correctly ?

“ say what?”

“could you pass me the piece?”

“no before that..”

“sunoo could you pass me the piece?”

“no, you said jay could you pass me the piece, then sunoo. why jay huh? “ his voice got louder making you startle.

“erm-no i just- i meant you. not him.”

he rans a hand through his hair sighing in annoyance. jay? really?

you couldn’t hold it in anymore and pinched his cheek. his eyebrows furrowed at your actions. how dare you do that after you pretty much cheated on him.

“it’s a prank baby, the camera’s right there! don’t be mad at me…” sunoo just sulked and pouted on his seat. no matter what, he always managed to look adorable.

“that wasn’t funny.”

jungwon -> the two of you were cuddling in bed watching television. every friday night would be spent like this and you weren’t complaining. having barely anytime for the two of you, times like these were immensely enjoyed by the two of you.

you didn’t want to ruin it but curiosity got the best of you. as jungwon’s eyes were on the television, you placed your phone on the nightstand to get at least the view of jungwon.

“ri-ki could you turn up the volume? “

his hands that were once tangled around your waist, disappeared hearing what you just said.

“ excuse you? i’m not ri-ki, since when are the two of you close like that? “ he sat up on the bed looking straight at you anticipating for your response.

“i meant to say jungwon, you. i got nothing with ri-ki.”

jungwon scoffed, “his legal name even, you’re not fooling me, what’s he to you?” your eyes widened at his demeanour. he was very angry. it was a rare sight to see.

“calm down, i just made a mistake. that’s it end of story.”

“you know what maybe you should be with him instead of me since apparently he’s more important than you own boyfriend.” he said getting up from the bed ready to leave.

“wonie! i’m just kidding, it’s all a joke.” you said showing the phone recording.

“oh my god you’re evil !! why would you do that? also why didn’t i notice the obvious phone looking straight at me?” he rolled his eyes walking back to the bed.

riki -> “don’t cry if you lose again.” niki said as he grabbed the controller and pressed the rematch button.

you rolled your eyes at his words. you were not bad but not good at the same time. he should be making you feel better instead of just laughing at you every time he kills you. as the two of you fought the last round, showing the K.O on the screen you sighed in frustration.

“babe just admit it, i’m just too good.” he chuckled, you weren’t going to take it. you smirked at the idea that just popped in your head, grabbing your phone and discreetly started recording.

“one more time.” you said, niki shook his head at your stubbornness but agreed on it anyways.

as you were fighting, y’all were just yelling stuff at each other trying to make the other lose.

“sunoo, can’t get up?” you said loud enough for him to hear you over the game.

his thumbs left the game controller giving you more than enough time to beat him and win (for the first time)

as you cheered, you looked over at niki and saw an emotionless face on his end.

“aww someone’s mad they lost!”

“it’s not about that, at all.” he glared at you.

“oh really?”

“sunoo? are you for real?”

“what are you talking about?”

“you called me sunoo, don’t play dumb. do i look like sunoo to you?”

“no ni-ki, you must be mistaken, i said ni-ki.” you said emphasizing his name.

he rubbed his forehead in frustration, he’s getting gaslighted right now.

“so you and sunoo hm? how’s it going for y’all?”

“ni-ki what? you know sunoo’s like a brother to me!”

“yea that’s what they all say..” he said under his breath.

“i’m not staying here, i need some space.” he said not before you grabbed his hand and engulfed him in a hug. ni-ki, though, pulled away.

“ask sunoo to give you a hug.”

“ni-ki!! it’s a joke! a prank you know? there’s my phone, right in your face!!”

ni-ki was still annoyed, he hated pranks on him.

“don’t prank me like that! it’s not that funny.” he said looking at you laugh in his face.

“so you can prank me all the time but i can’t?”

“exactly .”

[sommerbueckers]

HI BABY OKAY SO I HAVE A LITTLE ONE SHOT IDEA⁉️⁉️

so basically reader and paige know each other but aren’t exactly close just flirted a few times wtv wtv. so reader goes to a game and she’s wearing the other teams jersey😋😋 after the game paige sees her, they hang out have a few drinks and hookup.. and paige is like “take this shit off” then pulls the other teams jersey off reader

ALSO CAN I BE 🤍 ANON??

yes ofc you can !!

𝐚/𝐧: okay i literally love this idea , and congrats on being my first anon love !

𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞

➪ 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭

THREE DAYS AGO you had been sitting quietly in your apartment, the tv displaying an episode of Gilmore Girls that you, if prompted, could recite word for word. Leftover Chinese food sat cold upon the coffee table, your roommate occasionally returning to her forgotten bowl of beef broccoli.

“What’re you doing this weekend?” her voice abruptly cut through the silence, drowning out the show which could hardly be heard to begin with.

You leaned your elbow against the arm of the couch, shrugging your shoulders. “Probably nothing.”

“Per usual,” she snorted, amused. After reaching to pause the tv, she pulled her legs up under her and twisted around to face you. Her face held a look of mischief and you typically tried to steer away from any kind of conversation with her at this point, but there was nowhere for you to go. “Do you wanna take a little road trip?” she raised her eyebrows, hopefully.

“A road trip?” you repeated, your tone laced with confusion. “It’s the middle of February and you wanna take a road trip?”

Excitedly nodding her head, she scooted closer to you. “You know how i’ve been talking to Noa a lot lately?” She hadn’t even given you a chance to respond before she continued on. “Well her school plays UConn on Friday night and she said she could get me courtside tickets! How sick is that?!”

Courtside tickets to any game would be exciting, but courtside tickets to see UConn Paige play was an entirely different level of excitement.

You had met the basketball star at a penthouse party last summer. It was being hosted by some trust fund NYU student whose parents were out of town. It was said to be ‘select invite only,’ the hierarchy groups of the social food chain would be there along with whoever else they wanted to bring. You originally weren’t supposed to go, but after finding out your name was on the invite list, you and a few friends couldn’t think of any better way to spend the night.

Paige had been wearing a white crop top and a pair of jorts, and she looked far too good not to entertain for the night. All night you two had mingled and flirted, dancing together and taking shot after shot. Nothing came out of it other than another follower on Instagram, but you were just happy to have made the night a good one.

“Yeah, that’s pretty cool,” you admitted quietly. You leaned forward to grab the box of shrimp fried rice, aimlessly picking at it with your fork in an attempt to hide your clear interest in the conversation.

“Pretty cool?” your roommate gaped, “it’s fucking awesome! I finally get to meet her and you get to see Paige play in person.” She was practically bouncing off the walls at this point, her cheeks red from how hard she was smiling. She was biting her lip, no doubt to keep from squealing.

You sucked your teeth unconvincingly, your mind scattered as it tried to provide you with a quick response. “Why would I wanna see Paige?” you frowned, avoiding her eyes.

“Aren’t you guys friends?”

“Why would you think that?”

“Well you follow each other on Insta, and you’re always watching her games,” she shrugged innocently, thankfully not picking up on the way your eyes refused to meet hers or the blush that had unknowingly crept onto your face.

“Oh,” you mumbled, “well we aren’t.”

Unfortunately, it was the truth. You and Paige hadn't interacted with each other since the party and you chalked the night up to the two of you just having some drunken fun.

"Oh, so, do you wanna come down or no?"

You weighed your options, though the answer was clear. Stay in your apartment with nothing to do other than binge watch shows by yourself or join your roommate on a trip down to good ol' Storrs, Connecticut. You sighed and leaned back against the couch, crossing your arms.

"When do we leave?"

⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡

That was how you ended up sitting courtside at a UConn versus Creighton game, a white and blue jersey over your sweatshirt, the number seven displayed on the front. Your roommate had insisted that you both wear Noa’s jersey, that way she felt ‘double the support.’ You didn’t mind despite the fact that you couldn’t name a single player on the team.

The game ended with UConn sweeping Creighton, you had tuned out sometime during the third quarter after accepting the fact that the blue jays wouldn’t be able to come back. You hadn’t even noticed the game was over until the blonde beside you stood up with a groan, throwing her hands in the air.

“That’s it? It’s over just like that?” she turned to you with wide eyes.

You shrugged your shoulders, “Guess so.”

She was beyond upset, you would’ve thought she had been the one on the court. She went on a tangent after the teams disappeared into the locker room, expressing her opinion on why the game should be longer and what Creighton should’ve done. She had no idea what she was talking about, and you knew that, but still listened nonetheless.

“Are we getting something to eat?” you asked when you were sure she was done talking.

“Yeah,” she sighed out, “not sure what Noa wants to do but we can figure it out when she gets out here.”

“Okay, ‘m gonna use the bathroom real quick.” You stood from your seat, brushing off your jersey and heading toward the bathrooms.

Never before had you been to Gampel Pavilion, and curiosity got the best of you as you disregarded the large ‘Restrooms’ sign for a more enticing place. You ambled down one of the corridors, looking at all the pictures and awards that were up on the walls. Pictures of alumni in all the different uniforms through the decades, different championship trophies and plaques.

Your eyes stopped on one picture in particular; it was from the 80s and the men had bright smiles on their faces as they held up a large trophy. Their shorts were incredibly short, and you laughed to yourself as you wondered how they’d ever played in them. Before you could bring your attention away on your own accord, a familiar voice did it for you.

“You’re not supposed to be back here.”

There stood Paige Bueckers in all her six foot glory, her eyebrows knitted together as she stared at you. For having just played a game, she looked amazing. Her hair was still pulled up in its usual braid and ponytail but it was now partially covered with a gray beanie, she had put on a jacket and sweats over her uniform and looked about ready to slip out without being seen. That’s probably what she was doing.

“Oh sorry, I—I didn’t know,” you shook your head, embarrassed.

“Nah it’s cool, usually it doesn’t matter but they’re tryna clear the place out now,” she explained with a shrug, a keychain jingling from the movement of her bag on her back.

You nodded your head, silently walking past her to make your way back to the gym.

“Wait,” she called out.

You whipped your head around quicker than you should’ve, your face holding a look of innocence as you waited, no, hoped for her to say what you thought she was going to say.

“Don’t I know you?”

‘Yeah, we met last summer,’ was what you would’ve said had you been able to think straight. Instead, you stared at her dumbly until she finally spoke again.

“I think I do, we met at that one kid’s party last year,” she said. Was she trying to remind you? Like anyone would forget meeting Paige Bueckers at a party.

“Yeah, yeah I remember,” you nodded. You rubbed your forehead with a breathless laugh, thinking of what to say next. “That night was pretty blurry to be honest…”

That’s all you could come up with?

It wasn't even the truth either. You remembered everything from that night; every look, every touch.

“No yeah I get what you mean,” she laughed, “don’t even remember how I got home.”

You nodded your head to feign agreement because you knew exactly how you had gotten home.

“Creighton fan, huh?” Paige asked, gesturing to your jersey.

You glanced down, pulling the material away so you could examine it yourself. “No uh, my friend’s girlfriend or — whatever is on the team and we just came down to support her.”

“Ah, so I take it you’re not a UConn fan either?”

You laughed, “I’ve watched a couple games.”

Another lie -- you've watched every game.

“I’ll take it,” Paige smiled. “It was good seeing you again,” she said, beginning to back up. Had you not been so captured by the shade of blue that her eyes held, you would’ve missed the way they'd scanned your body. Running up and down your legs, gently biting her lip. Her eyes once again met yours and she flashed you that signature smirk before she turned around and headed out.

⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡

"This place is fucking packed," Noa commented, surveying the bar with narrowed eyes.

"Yeah, i'm gonna go see if I can get us a table."

Your roommate left your side and approached the hostess podium, you and Noa now being alone near the door. She awkwardly rocked back and forth on her feet, hands resting comfortably in her pockets. "Y'all came down here together?" she asked suddenly.

"Yeah, got here a little bit before the game actually," you smiled.

Noa hummed, "Hope you aren't driving back tomorrow," she said with a small laugh.

"What do you mean?"

"The couch at the apartment isn't the most comfortable," she sighed, scratching the back of her neck, "so I was just saying you'd probably be better off making blondie drive."

As if on cue, said blondie motioned for the two of you to follow her. "The wait was like forty-five minutes but the bar has the full menu," she said and gestured to three open seats right beside each other. You all gladly took them, sighing as you finally put your feet to rest.

The bartender came around and took your orders and the three of you finally settled in. Conversation came easy, you and Noa bonded over all things basketball. You discussed the calls that were made during the game, how a lot of them were made in favor of UConn because it was their home gym and all. While it hadn't been a complete lie, UConn would've won even without those calls.

You sipped casually on your martini, letting your two friends fall into their own conversation while you busied yourself elsewhere. Your gaze moved from table to table, scouting out someone who could turn your night around from the eventful one it had been. Once again, as though the man above had been listening solely to you, Paige and her teammates waltzed right in.

She had changed out of her basketball uniform, now dressed in a pair of cargos with a long sleeve and a vest.

Instinctively, you straightened up in your chair. They'd seated themselves on the other end of the bar, Paige sitting perfectly in your line of view. You felt like a creep the way you were watching her, but you couldn't help it. There had been a point in time where Paige had been focused on you. Her hands roaming your body as you danced together, her eyes locked on yours only, determined to make you laugh. You smiled unconsciously at the memory of that night, wishing over and over that you could relive it.

When you looked up again Paige was gone, missing from the rest of her group.

"If I didn't know any better, i'd think you were following me," her voice came from close behind you, and you found her standing there with an untouched drink in her hand.

"Well if I remember correctly, I was here first," you smiled, tilting your head. You were hoping you looked cute doing it and not dopey like you had pictured yourself. "So who's really doing the following?"

Paige chuckled, "You got me there." She moved to take the seat beside you, glancing around for a sign that someone was already sitting there. When she didn't find one, she proceeded to get comfortable. You watched contently, sipping your drink with crossed legs and waiting for her to settle. "That's the girlfriend?"

You nodded your head without looking behind you.

"Whatchu got?" you pointed at her glass.

"Dirty Shirley."

"Ah, your favorite."

Paige pursed her lips, a smile threatening to break through. "How'd you know that?" she asked.

"It was all you drank that night," you reminded her.

"Hm," she smirked, "thought you said you didn't remember much."

'Fuck,' you thought to yourself.

"I remember bits and pieces," you shrugged, distracting yourself with your drink.

The blonde playfully narrowed her eyes. She remembered everything from that night, she had only pretended not to because she felt embarrassed that she remembered everything and you didn't. She had visited your Instagram multiple times in the weeks following that, cursing herself for not having the courage to ask you out or do anything other than pointlessly flirt with you.

But here she was, being presented with the opportunity to turn things around, and she planned to take advantage of it.

"So tell me, what else do you remember?"

⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡

Two martinis and four rounds of shots later, you and Paige found yourselves in an intense game of pool. She was currently beating you, her only objection to sink the eight ball in while you still had a few balls left to knock in.

You leaned over with focused eyes, carefully lining up the stick with the ball. You could feel Paige's presence beside you, her breath hot on your ear as she spoke. "She's crumbling," the blonde teased. She sensed your stress and she was feeding off it, a thrilled expression upon her face. "Will she sink it? Or will she fumble?"

You pulled the stick back, and with a swift movement, jolted it forward. The ball flew quickly across the table, ricocheting off the side and rolling back toward the middle.

"Oh! She shoots, she misses!" Paige commentated enthusiastically, the alcohol running through her system and giving her a buzz. She pointed her finger annoyingly in your face as she backed away, getting closer and closer to her position behind the eight ball. She mimicked the stance you had done; leaning over the table and zeroing in on the ball.

A beat of silence passed and Paige still hadn't moved, her eyes slowly moved upwards to meet yours. A smile broke out onto her lips, she stood up and twirled the stick around in her hands. "How about we make this a little more interesting," she suggested lowly.

"Interesting how?" you snorted, leaning against the table.

She stepped closer to you, towering over you with a gaze that had you practically foaming at the mouth. If Paige wanted to take you on the pool table right at that moment, you would've let her. Of course, that was just the alcohol talking, and there was quite a lot of it.

"I need one shot to win, and I want a reward when I do."

"A reward, huh?" I raised my eyebrows, noticing her step closer, "What kind of reward do you want?"

"I can think of a few things..." she murmured. Paige was trying hard to be seductive right now, and she couldn't tell if it was working or not. She had already failed to hookup with you once last year at the party, and she'd be damned if she failed again.

"Like what?" you took a step closer, batting your eyelashes at her. You were teasing her and she knew it. The alcohol coursing through your system was giving you a confidence boost like no other, and you couldn't think of a better way to make use of it other than flirting with Paige.

"Well for starters," she sighed, pulling gently on the Creighton jersey that you had yet to change out of, "I don't wanna see this anymore tonight."

"Oh yeah?" you quirked a brow at her.

"Yeah, and when I win, i'm gonna take it off you," she said confidently.

You could feel yourself sweating beneath your clothes, the pool stick in your hand suddenly becoming difficult to grip. You cleared your throat when she finally stepped back, a knowing smile tugging at her lips as she repositioned herself on the other side of the table and focused on the ball. With a quick and calculated shot, the ball swiped cleanly across the table before falling into the desired slot.

The noise from the bar seemed to fade away as the realization of Paige's victory sunk in. People drunkenly moved around; dancing, singing, cheering at whatever was playing on tv, but none of that mattered to you anymore. You were unable to focus on anything other than Paige's blue eyes staring into yours, the color seemingly darker than it was just moments ago.

You rolled your eyes and set the stick down on the table, reaching for the hem of the jersey to take it off. Paige's hands quickly found your wrists, her face contorted in utter confusion. "What're you doing?" she asked.

You were playing with her.

"Taking the jersey off, isn't that what you wanted?" you frowned innocently.

Paige scoffed, "Don't test me. Let's go back to mine, you can take it off there."

You both bid your goodbyes to your friends, your roommate tossed you a questioning look that you dismissed with the wave of your hand. You waited impatiently outside for an Uber, Paige holding you close in attempt to shield you from the cold. Her eyes were fixed on your lips, the very ones that were trembling, begging to be warmed up by hers. From the moment she had seen you in the hallway she immediately recognized you, she'd recognize that ass anywhere. She had planned to send you a message tomorrow, running into you tonight had been unexpected but not unwelcome. It just gave her less time to think of what to say.

The car ride back to Paige's house left the two of you bright eyed and rosy cheeked; the radio was switched off and the driver spelled like he had just played in a basketball game and didn't bother to shower afterward. The backseat windows appeared to have a child lock on them, preventing either of you from breathing in fresh air. Between the buzz from all the drinking and toxicity of the car's air, you and Paige couldn't stop yourselves from laughing the whole way there. Her hands didn't leave your legs, but in the midst of all the welcomed chaos you hadn't even noticed.

You rolled out of the car, basking in the cold air with open arms. Paige trailed closely behind you, her hand on the small of your back as the two of you made your way up to her apartment. The second the elevators doors shut and you two were alone, your lips met hers in a searing kiss. She tasted sweet, like Dirty Shirleys and peach CÎROC shots. With your hands tangled in her hair, you pulled her closer, wanting needing to taste more of her.

Her tight grip on your hips, fingertips pressing into you, sent shivers throughout your body. She backed you into the wall, her tongue exploring every inch of your mouth while you lowered your guard and let her. So caught up in the taste of you, she almost missed the elevator opening up to her floor. Hardly even breaking the kiss, you two made your way out. Paige knew exactly where to go and you were blindly being led by her, stumbling over your own feet.

Paige fumbled around in her pocket for her keys, roughly jamming them into the lock and pushing the door open. The apartment was dark with the exception of a few city lights pouring in through the windows. Standing in place for a couple seconds longer, you felt the kiss slow down before Paige stopped it completely.

"Fuck," she spoke breathlessly, running a hand through her hair. She reluctantly backed away from you, turning on the lights. With the apartment's kitchen now being fully lit, you could see into the living room as well. The place was beautifully furnished, with little fake plants placed around on the shelves and pictures of Paige and her friends framed up on the walls. Her couch looked far more comfortable than the couch Noa had described earlier and you were dreading having to return to it later tonight.

Paige appeared in front of you, her hands coming up to cup your face. "I want you to go into my bedroom, turn the light on, and then sit down on the bed and wait for me," she instructed lowly. You nodded silently, backing up in the direction of the bedroom while giving Paige the sexiest smile you could muster. In reality, you were absolutely panicking.

Once you got to the bedroom, you switched on the lamp that rested on the bedside table and seated yourself on the edge of the bed. You were unsure of how to sit, or maybe you should try lying down? You decided on taking your shoes and socks off first, neatly dropping them on the side of the bed. You didn't have time to further your thoughts on how to sit because just as you had finished putting your things aside, Paige entered the bedroom and shut the door behind her. She was carrying a bottle of water that she set down on the nightstand, laughing when she noticed you awkwardly staring.

"You look uncomfortable."

"I'm not, just waiting for you," you replied, hoping the shakiness in your voice didn't betray you.

Paige walked over and stood before you, enticingly biting her lip. She leaned down at the same time that you leaned back, a seductive game of cat and mouse as she crawled forward whilst you crawled backward. Your smiles grew when your back hit the headboard and you realized you had nowhere else to go.

"You've been staring at me all night with those eyes," she murmured, and you felt her breath on your lips.

"What eyes?"

Paige rubbed her own nose against yours before she reconnected your lips. She pushed your legs apart with her hands, running them up and down the smooth material of your leggings. You let out a soft moan into her mouth when her knee came in contact with your heated center, bucking your hips in order to feel more of her.

Paige took it upon herself to quicken the pace, instinctively grinding into you. Her lips eventually left yours, trailing down your neck and leaving wet pecks all over. Her teeth bit softly into your skin, marking you as hers. You pressed her further into you, hands snaking under her shirt and roaming all over her back. Her attack on your flesh was violent, the pain pulling a pathetic whimper out of you.

"Fuck, do that again," Paige mumbled against your skin, repeating her actions a little rougher this time to gain a bigger reaction from you.

"Ah, Paige!" you slammed your hand against her shoulder, screwing your eyes shut.

She yanked harshly at the jersey still clinging to your body, "Take this shit off," she spat out. She pushed you down into the mattress, ripping the garment from your body and discarding it somewhere in the room. Your sweatshirt came off next, leaving you clad in only a bra and your leggings. Paige pulled her own shirt over her head, her necklace dangling over your face. You used it to pull her back down into you, hungry for a taste of her again.

Her fingertips crept underneath you and she hooked them onto your bra strap, skillfully unlatching it and pulling it off you. Dilated pupils gazed down at your exposed breasts, her hands hastily coming up to touch them like a child in a toy store. She kneaded, sucked, licked, kissed, her attention focused solely on your hardened nipples, leaving your neglected pussy uncontrollably dripping.

"Paige," you whined desperately, your back arching so far off the bed that Paige's hands forced you back down.

"Hm?" she hummed inattentively.

"I need you..."

A loud popping sound came from Paige letting go of your nipple, holding your stare as she lowered her body closer to where you needed her most. Just as she had hooked her fingers on your bra strap, she hooked them on the waistband of your leggings and slowly pulled them down.

Your panties were downright soaked, earning a mocking laugh from the blonde.

"So wet for me mama," she purred, a smirk on her face.

She took her thumb and ran it straight down your clothed slit. You sucked in a sharp breath, hands already grabbing at the sheets on the bed. To Paige, you looked like an angel lying there, like a good girl with those pleading eyes as you waited to be fucked senseless. Finally, Paige removed your panties and tossed them aside with the rest of your clothes.

She shamelessly played around in your slick, soaking each and every one of her fingers in it.

"Tell me you want it."

"I want it Paige," you breathed out.

Paige's face appeared overtop of you, her jaw clenched tightly in disapproval, "Beg."

You were so turned on you didn't even protest, instead just propped yourself up on your elbows to be closer to her. Her fingers danced around in teasingly slow circles on your clit, a knot gradually forming in your stomach. "Please I want you to fuck me, please baby I need it so bad. Want your fingers inside me," you exhorted pathetically.

Without wasting another second, the blonde inserted two lengthy fingers inside of you. It was like looking into a mirror the way Paige's face copied yours; when you bit your lip, she bit hers, when your mouth involuntarily gaped open, so did hers. She was taunting you, forcing you to see how undone you were becoming. Tightly gripping her bicep, you dug your nails into the large muscle.

Her fingers pumped in and out of you, thumb doing work on your clit to bring you closer to the edge. The squelching noise that filled the room sent heat to your cheeks, and if it wasn't that then it was the look Paige was giving you as she fucked you. She was proud of the mess you were becoming, the mess she was making you. She kissed your lips over and over again even though you couldn't kiss back.

Your head was spinning with thoughts of Paige, the feeling of Paige inside you. Your toes curled involuntarily, noises you had never heard yourself make before echoed off the walls of the room.

"Yes yes yes, i'm close," you cried out, "fuck just like that!"

Paige hurriedly kissed her way back down to your pussy, replacing her thumb with her tongue. She mercilessly sucked you like a starved woman enjoying her first meal, or a guilty one enjoying her last. Her tongue moved nimbly against you, fingers fucking in and out of you and feeling the tightness as you clenched around her.

"You gonna come for me, huh?"

"Uh huh," you fervently nodded.

"Hmm," she hummed into you, the vibrations nearly sending you over the edge, "let me hear you say it. I want to hear you say it."

"Yes! I'm gonna come for you..."

Paige expertly curled her fingers inside you, lying her tongue flat against your clit and forcing you to do none other than let go. The knot that had been building in your stomach finally fell apart, your legs snapping shut and trapping Paige's head there. You pushed and pulled at her, your desires becoming fuzzy as the orgasm swallowed you whole. Moans and strings of curse words unconsciously spilled from your lips. They were a stark contrast to the sweet things Paige cooed as she left kisses along your stomach, and your chest, and back up to your lips.

"Such a good girl," she whispered on your lips, "you were so good for me."

You shivered at the empty feeling you got from Paige pulling her fingers out of you, they were covered in the same slick that her chin was, glistening under the lamp's light. You smiled tiredly at her, snaking your arms around her neck and pressing your lips to hers.

"You tired?" she asked, observing your face.

"Yeah."

She pulled away from you and reached for the water bottle on the nightstand, twisting it open and bringing it to your lips. "Sleep here tonight," she said, "I can take you where you need to go in the morning."

Swallowing the water you said, "You sure?"

"Yeah, you probably can't walk after that anyway."

"Shut up," you snorted hitting her chest.

The two of you settled in bed together, your naked body finding warmth against her clothed one as she cuddled you close to her. You smiled to yourself, nuzzling your face in her neck and drifting off to sleep.

[scuderiahoney]

Born To Run // i.

cowboy!max verstappen x reader // part i of ii.

Summary: Everyone, including Max, says he’s too much for you. You find yourself determined to prove them all wrong. Your summer on the ranch is set to be one to remember. 5.1k

warnings: sexual content (minors do not interact, 18+ PLEASE!), alcohol/ intoxication, strong use of language, implied unspecified age gap, public sex, oral sex fem receiving, and max is a little mean (oops). if you would like further clarifications on the warnings PLEASE send me a message!

title from Born To Run by Bruce Springsteen, but also from Springsteen by Eric Church, which references… Born To Run by Bruce Springsteen. for mood setting, see also: She Calls Me Back by Noah Kahan and You Should Probably Leave by Chris Stapleton

One of your favorite parts of the summer is the first couple days after you get to your uncle’s ranch. You spend your summers there, helping tend to the gardens and some of the animals in exchange for a breath of fresh air, some time away from the city. You’re in college, now- your last official summer break before real adulthood kicks in- but you’ve been coming here since you were barely able to walk, sometimes with your parents, sometimes without. This year, it’ll just be you. It’s freedom, the way you like it best.

You first see him out in one of the pastures, on horseback, helping round up a wayward bunch of cows. He’s laughing, head flung back, sunlight dancing on his skin. He even sounds pretty, you think, leaning on the fence and watching. You’ve changed into a dress for dinner, your muddy clothes washed and hung out to dry. The cows are being difficult. He doesn’t seem to show even an ounce of frustration.

You’re startled when someone speaks from behind you- It’s Maddy, one of the long term ranch hands.

“Who’s that?” You ask, gesturing at the man.

Maddy whistles lowly and shakes her head. “Don’t even.”

“Don’t even what?” You ask, blinking back at her.

“Get started,” Maddy says, waving a hand dismissively. “You know the saying, too much horse? He’s too much cowboy for you.”

You pout, turning back to look at him. “He seems nice enough.”

He’s climbing off his horse, chatting with another one of the guys. Maddy blows out a breath through pursed lips, and you lean farther on the fence, resting your chin on your hands. The man takes his hat off and runs a hand through his sweat damp hair, and the sunlight glints off the blond strands. You sigh, and Maddy shakes her head.

“Serious, sweets. You don’t wanna go down that road. Max is…,” she sighs and never finishes the thought. Max. It’s a nice name, short and sweet. “Why’d you come out here, anyways?”

“Dinner’s ready,” you say in a dreamy tone.

Maddy groans happily, then whistles loudly, the sound making all the guys turn their heads. “Suppertime!”

You meet Max’s eyes from across the field. The sun is low in the sky, white fluffy clouds dotting the blue above your heads. He grins just a little wider when he looks at you, you swear. He tips his hat to you and then he nudges his horse, taking off across the pasture, kicking up a cloud of dust behind them.

Every Friday, your aunt makes dinner for all the staff, with your help. You all sit down at tables in the backyard and fill up on home cooking and fresh food from the garden. They’re your favorite nights of the week. At dinner, you find that Max is sweet, just like you’d predicted. He says his please and thank yous, his sirs and ma’ams, he smiles kindly at everyone he talks to. He’s friendly, he takes his hat off before he sits down at the table, he’s a perfect gentleman. Maddy must be crazy. How could he ever be too much?

Ten minutes into dinner, you think maybe you know what she meant. You’ve ended up across the table from Max, a few seats down- completely on purpose, on your part. You want him to be able to see you. And he does- fork full of salad halfway to his mouth, he pauses, tilts his head at you, and smiles.

“I don’t think we’ve met,” Max says, dropping the fork to reach his hand out across the linen tablecloths. “I’m Max Verstappen.”

You introduce yourself when he takes your hand in his. You see his eyebrows raise when he hears your last name- he’ll know you’re related to his boss, now, but he’d said his last name, so you’d felt the need to do the same. His hand is warm and calloused against yours, and your cheeks grow hot.

“You live here?” He asks.

You wiggle your hand side to side. “For the summer. I help out in the garden, do odd jobs around the ranch. Then in the fall it’s back to college.”

Max raises one brow, leans back in his chair, and crosses his arms over his chest. “Knew you were a city girl,” he says.

“Yeah?” You ask, playing along. “What gave it away?”

He shrugs. “You’re too soft,” he says.

It’s not really an insult, but for some reason, it sounds like one coming from him.

…..

You don’t see Max again for a while, except from a distance, you in the garden, him out in the pastures on horseback. The way he rides is enchanting, like he was born to do it, like a natural. Some people just have it in them, your uncle had said.

It rains for three days straight, and the creek at the back of the property floods like it always does. When the water goes down, Maddy invites you out to a bonfire with everyone on a Friday night, a rare week when they’ve been given a Saturday morning off. You agree eagerly, and you head down just after dinner. You’re greeted by the people who know you, the ones who’ve been coming here for years, who’ve seen you grow up. Someone hands you a bottle of alcohol- you don’t ask what it is before you take a pull. Someone whistles lowly. You turn, and find Max’s blue eyes, lit up by the fire.

“Got something to say?” You ask, hand on your hip.

He shrugs and grins. “No ma’am.”

You roll your eyes and walk away, taking the bottle of tequila with you. Down at the river, Maddy’s floating in the current. You decide she’s a better companion than Max and head for her instead. You pull your dress over your head to reveal your swimsuit, and you slip into the water, sighing at the feeling. The bottle of tequila is abandoned on the bank.

It’s a good night for this- just on the right side of too warm, the water just the right temperature. You take turns swinging off the rope swing, and you laugh and joke and bask in the last remaining sunlight. When the sun goes down, you join the circle around the fire, ending up next to Max completely on accident.

He leans close and nudges his thumb against your arm. “You know, for a city girl, you fit in well.”

You huff and roll your eyes. “I’ve been coming here my whole life. You’re the outsider here.”

He hums softly. When you glance at him, he’s smirking. It makes your blood boil, but worse than that, it makes you want to kiss the smirk right off his face. You hate how easily he seems to get under your skin. To try and drown it out, you reach for the bottle of tequila again.

By the end of the night, Maddy’s gone, and the only person who seems to even notice you’re still there is Max. When you nearly spill the remains of the bottle into the river, he dusts his hands off on his jeans, reaches for your wrist, and starts to walk away with you in tow.

“Time for bed,” Max says, gesturing at you.

You blink, trying to clear your vision, stars swirling above Max’s head as the two of you pop out of the woods and into the open field. “Where’re you takin’ me?”

“I’m taking you home,” he says, almost gently.

Taking you home. You like the sound of that. You think. If he means it how you hope. Maybe you could get it out of your system. Just one good fuck and you could stop watching him when you should be tending to the garden.

“Are you taking me home?” You ask. “Or taking me home?”

“What?” He asks, voice wavering. “The fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“You know what ‘m asking,” you say, voice slightly wobbly.

Max stops in his tracks, eyes wide, brows furrowed. He drops his grip on your wrist. You’re halfway back to the house, standing in the grass of one of the fields. You’re too drunk to care about being seen, or what’s in the grass- you just want Max to answer you.

“I’m not gonna fuck you,” he says, firmly. “If that’s what you’re asking.

You let out a whine and nearly stomp your foot, your whole body growing hot just at the words. “Why not?”

He’s looking at you with an unreadable expression. He’s still in his work clothes, button up shirt and faded jeans, hat still perched atop his head. You could reach up and take it off him, if you wanted, if he’d let you. Maybe undo a couple buttons on his shirt. You wonder if his skin would taste like salt, like the sweat you’d seen beading on his upper lip earlier in the day.

“Because you’re drunk,” he says, scratching at his jaw, stubble scraping under his fingers.

“So what?” You say, blinking up at him.

His face twists into a scowl. “So what, you’re drunk?”

You shrug. Behind him, you can see the house. The kitchen light is still on, the glow pulling you in like a moth to a flame. You hope your aunt and uncle are asleep. He takes a lurching step towards you, and you lose your breath when he cups your jaw in one hand, thumb brushing against your skin.

“I’m not fucking you while you’re drunk,” he says. “I don’t know where that came from or who said it to you, but you deserve better than that.”

“Okay,” you reply, suddenly entranced by his blue eyes, bright even in the low light of night.

He manages to herd you up to the house without laying another finger on you, which is a huge disappointment, honestly. He hangs back while you walk up the steps, staying out of the light. He’s worried about being caught with you. Something twists in your stomach at the implication, at what they would think. Nothing happened- it wouldn’t be worth the humiliation, really. But the sitting room is empty, and so is the kitchen. You’re safe, probably.

“G’night,” you call out softly over your shoulder.

When you turn to look, he’s already gone.

…..

There’s exactly one bar within a 30 mile radius of the ranch, and you know it well. It’s near and dear to your heart. Maddy yells at you from the wide open barn doors one night and invites you out with them, and of course, you say yes. You’re in need of a stiff drink, some loud music, and maybe a little bit of dancing.

She picks you up at the house in her truck. The only seat that’s left is the back passenger seat, the others taken up by other ranch hands. The wind whips through the open windows as she peels out of the driveway, kicking up a cloud of dust that you know will have your aunt clicking her tongue and rolling her eyes.

Maddy cranks the volume on the CD player. The first year she came to work here, the radio died, and she became reliant on CDs. Then the player stopped ejecting CDs, leaving her copy of Born In The USA trapped, doomed to spin and play through the half broken speakers forever and ever. Bruce Springsteen’s voice rings out over the rattle of the half broken bumper.

The bar is packed, as expected for a Saturday night. Ranch workers do long hours, longer weeks, but Sunday morning is always a time of rest, no matter how few of them bother going to church. Everyone’s here, from your uncle’s 72 year old neighbor Etta to the kid who works the cash register at the gas station. This is the place to be- the only place to be.

It means Max is here, too. It takes you a while to spot him, surprisingly- he blends in well, in his dark shirt, faded jeans, boots and cowboy hat, he looks like everyone else in this place, in this town, in this state. You’re two drinks in, another one in your hand, when you see him. He’s leaning against the bar, leaning close to some girl you’ve never seen before. She’s just his type, probably- long hair, dirt on her jeans, a real life all American girl. You hear his voice echoing in your head- city girl, too soft- and you take a swig of your drink. When you look back at him, he’s staring at you, smirking. You roll your eyes and turn away.

You have a good time, despite Max’s words bouncing around in your head, bringing with them a bit of a feeling of not belonging here. You mingle with the guys from the ranch that you already know, the ones who’ve been working there for years. You dance with one of them when he asks politely, accept a drink from another with a sweet smile, perch yourself on a stool and watch them play pool. You’re laying it on thick, because it’s fun, and because you can feel eyes on the back of your head. Max is watching from across the bar, even as that same girl hangs off his arm and grins up at him. You’re not sure what to make of it.

He doesn’t come near you, doesn’t speak a word in your direction. He just watches, like he’s lying in wait. It would piss you off if it didn’t turn you on so much. You wonder if he notices when you kiss one of the guys on the cheek after they win. You wonder if he sees the way you pull the top of your sundress down just a little bit. You wonder if he sees you pout at someone to buy you a drink, if that would work on him, if he’s checking you out the same way this other guy is.

He doesn’t come close until the end of the night, when they turn on the lights and you’re sure you smell like tequila and cheap beer. Maddy disappeared with a guy from another ranch and left you with her keys, but you’re definitely not fit to drive. You wobble a bit when you stand up from the barstool, and suddenly there’s a strong grip on your side, steadying you. You flinch and try to wrench yourself away.

“Don’ touch me,” you slur, twisting to face whoever it is. You come face to face with Max, and you scowl. “‘Specially you. Don’t you have manners, cowboy? Don’t touch a lady without permission.”

Max rolls his eyes and snatches the keys from your hand before you can blink. “Who the fuck was going to let you drive?”

“I wasn’t gonna drive,” you insist, scowl deepening. “Was gonna find someone to drive me. Give me the keys.”

He ignores you and starts to walk away. As he brushes past you, he reaches for your wrist and tugs gently. You follow, only because he has the keys and his grip is warm and you can feel his thumb pressing into your pulse point. Your breath hitches. He drags you out of the bar, and the cold air hits like a slap to the face, waking you up.

“Hey,” you snap, stopping and tugging your arm from his grip. “What are you doing?”

“Taking you home,” he says.

“What happened to the girl who was all over you?” You ask, too drunk to stop yourself. “She was giving you fuck me eyes, you know. You’re not gonna take her home?”

He scoffs and reaches for your arm again, and you tug it out of reach, crossing your arms over your chest. You know the motion pushes your tits together, and you see his eyes flicker down to sneak a peek. You grin. He rolls his eyes.

“No,” he says, jerking his head towards the parking lot. “Come on.”

“Did you already fuck her in the bathroom, is that why?”

He groans, dragging a hand down his face. “No.”

“You could take me home, you know-“ you start.

He fixes you with a stern glare that has your face heating up, your stomach churning. You’re coming on too strong. He doesn’t want you like that, and now you’re drunk and acting insane and- he’s just trying to make sure you get home safe. He thinks you’re some stupid city girl who can’t hold her liquor and was going to drive drunk, and you would never-

“I really wasn’t going to drive,” you say, and his face softens. “I would’ve slept in the truck if I had to.”

“I know,” he says softly. “Let’s get you home, yeah?”

You nod. “You’re good to drive?”

He nods. You let him take your hand this time, instead of grabbing your wrist, and you try not to get used to the feeling of his calloused palm against yours.

By the time you leave the parking lot of the bar, there are three other people in the backseat, and a few in the bed of the truck, too. Max is a careful driver, though you’re sure part of that is because of the people in the back. He stops at another ranch and one of them climbs out, and then he stops at the bunkhouse at your uncle’s ranch before he steers the car up towards the house. It’s just the two of you. The CD is still spinning, playing quietly through the speakers. He puts the truck in park in front of the house, kitchen light glowing, and you feel like you’re going to be sick.

Instead, words slip past your lips. “I’m sorry. For being… weird. Forward.”

Max scoffs.

“I know. Understatement.” You shrug, reaching for the door handle. “I just. I read the signals wrong. Sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

You open the door a crack and then freeze when his hand falls to your thigh, gripping tight, burning hot even through the fabric of your dress. Your breath is caught in your chest. You turn to look at him, his face half illuminated, half shadowed.

“You didn’t,” he says.

You swallow. The air is thick with humidity and tension. “Didn’t what?” You ask.

“Make me uncomfortable,” he says, softly. “Or read the signals wrong.”

You pull the truck door shut and turn towards him in your seat. His hand never leaves your leg, his eyes never leave your face, not even when you lean towards him, just slightly. Your heart is in your throat.

“But you told me no, after the river,” you mumble. “And then tonight…”

“You were drunk,” he says. “And you’re drunk again. And you’re too good for me. You deserve better. But…”

“But?”

“But that doesn’t change the fact that you’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen,” he says, and your skin lights on fire. His fingers dig into your leg, and you hope to god he leaves a mark. “Bet you taste sweet as honey, too.”

Blood roars in your ears so loud you barely hear the words you say next. “Maybe you should find out for yourself.”

He grins, and then he shakes his head. He releases his grip on your leg and exchanges it for a light smack against the outside of your thigh. If you were sober, you’d call him out for it, but right now, it just sends a shock through your system.

“Time for bed, honey,” he says, and in a trance, you open the door again and head inside.

In the morning, you wonder if you imagined it all. But when you bring coffee out to the cowboys on Monday, he blushes red as the tomatoes in the garden, and you know it was real.

…..

5 days go by. 5 days of watching out the window while he works, 5 days of pining, 5 days of avoiding him at all costs because if you’re being honest, you’re nervous. But then it’s Thursday afternoon, and he walks into the barn while you’re already standing there, and suddenly your heart is pounding in your chest.

He leans against one of the walls, crossing one foot over the other, arms folded over his chest. “You’re avoiding me.”

You shrug, leaning over to brush a bit of dust off your boots before you lean against the opposite wall. You don’t meet his eyes. “Wonder why that would be.”

He huffs. “If you want to be a brat, I can go.”

Your cheeks are burning, and you finally look at him, a glare set in your eyes. He’s smiling, the asshole, barely containing his amusement. Maybe you don’t want him, maybe he’s a jerk, maybe- he uncrosses and recrosses his arms, and you watch his muscles twitch under the fabric of his shirt. You swallow.

“I already told you what I want,” you mutter.

“Oh, good, you remember that,” he retorts.

“I wasn’t that drunk,” you snark back.

“Drunk enough to say it out loud when you can’t even look me in the eyes now,” he says, taking a step away from the door. “Come on, say it like a big girl. Ask me again, sober, like you did before.”

Your heart is in your throat, now. He looms over you, eyes sweeping up and down your body. It’s then that you realize how short your dress is, how close he is, how much you really do want him.

“Max,” you whine, almost petulant.

He tilts his head. “Can’t you ask nicely? Where are your manners?”

You blink up at him, once, twice, three times. His cheeks are rosy red, pupils blown wide. He smells like sweat and sunshine and man and you can’t get enough of him. His hat sits low on his brow, plush lips just barely parted, like he’s waiting for something. You can’t stand it anymore, can’t play this game with him forever.

You reach up and take the hat off his head, and he groans. When you put it atop your own head, he blinks slowly. His hand falls to your hip. It makes you feel like you’re burning up, even through the fabric.

“Fuck me,” you whisper, leaning up to put your lips close to his ear. “Will you do it if I say please, Max?”

His hand squeezes at your hip harshly, and his mouth falls open. And then he’s kissing you, shoving you up against the wall of the barn, and you barely have time to wrap your arms around his neck before he’s slipping his tongue into your mouth. He kisses like no boy you’ve ever kissed before, like he knows exactly what he’s doing, what buttons to press, just how to touch you to have you seeing stars before he’s even begun. He slips his hand lower from your waist and under your skirt, sliding up your thigh, and you whimper into his mouth. His other hand slams against the wall next to your head to try and steady himself. You arch your back, pressing your chest to his, melting when he shifts so one of his legs is slotted between yours, and you-

There’s a shout, then voices, headed your way. Max rips himself away from you, leaving you gasping for air, lips already parting to whine about it. He snatches his hat off your head.

“Max,” you pant, and he blinks harshly, taking another full step back from you. “Wait, Max-“

“Later,” he hisses. “Just- we’ll talk later, okay?”

Then he disappears from the barn, leaving nothing but empty air and a bit of beard burn behind him.

…..

You don’t talk later, really. Max is a rollercoaster. He kisses you in the barn and then ignores you for 24 hours. He sits next to you at the Friday night dinner and slides his hand up your thigh under the table, far too high to be anywhere near polite, and then ignores you the next morning when you bring out coffee, too busy talking to one of his buddies. He finds you in the barn a different night and wraps his arm around your waist, pulls your back to his front, and kisses your neck until you’re bracing yourself on the workbench in front of you, and then at the slightest noise outside, he’s gone. It’s maddening. It’s like he can’t make up his mind.

“You’re too young,” he says, one night.

The two of you are standing out in the fields, watching the sun sink low over the horizon. He has his hands in his pockets.

“Right, because you’re ancient,” you reply.

“Are you even twenty one?” He asks.

“I was in the bar the other night, wasn’t I?”

“College kids get fake IDs.”

“I’m perfectly legal,” you answer, tugging on the sleeve of his shirt. “In every possible way.”

He spins you around, presses you up against the fence, and kisses you. You’re amazed the grass doesn’t catch on fire from the heat of it all.

…

You meet him and the rest of the crew down by the creek another night, and this time you catch him watching when you wade in the cool water in your swimsuit. He doesn’t bother looking away, just keeps watching and grins, making your face heat up. He must know what he does to you, must know how he makes you feel, and it’s so unfair.

You dry off and slip back into your dress a while later. He lends you his flannel when the sun slips down and you shiver in your spot, sitting on the ground and leaning against his legs. He’s sitting in a camp chair behind you, and every so often, you feel his hand against your shoulder. You try not to read into it.

Someone pulls out a guitar and starts to strum. You turn to him.

“Can you play?” You ask. He shakes his head, and you hum. “Then what’s your cowboy party trick?”

He tilts his head at you, brows furrowed. “What?”

“You know, like… the guitar, darts, bull riding,” you say, gesturing at him. “What makes you cool?”

He leans forward, elbows on his knees, and speaks softly, close to your ear. “The only guys who need party tricks are the ones who can’t pull a girl without them.”

You scoff and slap his knee. “Then maybe we should find you a trick, cowboy.”

He reaches out and tucks a piece of hair behind your ear. “Nah. I think I’m doing just fine.”

You glare up at him, hoping he can see it even in the dark. He laughs. You roll your eyes.

“But I am pretty handy with the rope,” he says, and then he winks.

You blink up at him, and his shoulders start to shake. You cross your arms over your chest and turn to stare at the fire again, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of asking exactly what he means, or if he’s offering. Behind you, his leg shakes with his laughter.

…

Another afternoon, he pulls up behind you in his truck while you’re walking down the dirt road and calls out a “hey, honey.”

This leads to you climbing into his truck with him, and a short drive to a more secluded area. Then he gets you in his lap, his hands on your hips, and kisses you senseless. You can feel him getting hard underneath you. It makes you ache. You chase after his lips when he starts to pull away, his hands still holding you tight.

“I don’t come back,” he tells you, lips brushing yours.

“Okay,” you mutter. Then you pause. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t come back,” he repeats. You huff. “I won’t be back here next year. I’ll be… I don’t know, but it won’t be here.”

Some cowboys stay at one ranch their whole careers. Others wander the Wild West and never go back to the same place twice. You should’ve known Max would be a runner.

“Okay,” you say, again. “What does that have to do with anything?”

He shrugs. “You deserve someone who’ll come back.”

And. He says it, but then he hauls you close and kisses you again, so. You choose to ignore it.

…

On a Saturday night, at the bar, you lean over to whisper “come on,” in his ear.

He’s nursing a gin and tonic. “Gonna have to be more clear what you’re asking for, honey.”

You giggle, draped over his shoulder in the dark corner of the booth. Nobody’s looking, and even if they were, they wouldn’t care. Your hand rests on his shoulder, your chin resting atop your hand, your lips brushing his ear. He shudders.

“Meet me in the bathroom in five?” You ask.

He groans, eyelids fluttering, and turns towards you, nose to nose. He’s so close you swear you can feel his breath. His hand comes up to cup your jaw, thumb pressing into your cheek.

“You’re better than getting fucked in a bar bathroom,” he says. When you raise a brow and open your mouth to protest, he winces, and adds, “you’re better than this bar bathroom, and I’m not fucking you here, and you’re drunk.”

You sit back and cross your arms over your chest petulantly. You can see the smirk on his lips from the corner of your eye, but you don’t bother to call him out on it.

…

Max is a rollercoaster, but you grow tired of being stuck on the ride pretty quickly. He kisses you and touches you and then he pulls away. No matter what, he won’t fuck you. He’s always got an excuse. It’s driving you up the walls.

“You are driving me nuts,” you say through gritted teeth, three days later, when you look up and find him leaning on the garden fence, watching you pull weeds.

“Think it’s the other way around, honey,” he says, shaking his head. “You look pretty like this.”

You look down at yourself, at the dress you’re wearing, at the way you’re kneeling on the ground. Your face gets hot, and you wipe the dirt from your hands onto your apron.

“Then do something about it,” you snip, wiping sweat from your forehead with the back of your wrist. “Or would you rather just stand there and stare?”

He whistles lowly, and you try to pretend the sound doesn’t send a shiver down your spine. “City girl’s got an attitude, huh?”

You huff, push yourself up off the ground, and gather your things. You’re not just going to sit here and let him ogle you, let him think up fantasies to get off to later like you know he’s probably doing. He knows what you want, he’s admitted he wants it, too, but he won’t give in, and you’re so over it. He thinks you’re the one with the attitude, but-

“Hey, honey,” he says, just before you start to walk away. You turn over your shoulder, squinting at him, the evening sun straight over his shoulder.

“Yeah, Max?” You answer, hating how anticipatory you sound.

He looks at his watch. “Meet me at the river in an hour?”

You blink. Your heart skips a beat. Then you nod. He nods back. You wait for him to walk away, picking a couple more tomatoes off the vine. Then, once he’s out of sight, you take off running through the tall grass, all the way up to the house. Your hands shake with anticipation the whole time you’re getting ready. It feels a bit ridiculous, but you can’t help it- something is in the air, some sort of current, crackling beneath the surface. You just hope you get to find out exactly what it is.

part ii. coming tomorrow @ 3pm EST!!

a/n: thanks for reading! hope you enjoyed! fair warning, part two kicks things up a notch in terms of +18 content. see you all tomorrow!

Taglist: @4-mula1 @celestialams @struggling-with-delia @lovekt @i-wish-this-was-me @forzalando @iloveyou3000morgan @callsign-scully @arian-directioner @racingheartsposts @sakuramxchii @mynamejeff5 @c-losur3 @casperlikej @the-navistar-carol @everyonesluvah @jsjcue @si1ver06 @nicole01-23 @arieslost

[yandere-3-sagau]

Creator Reader Brainrot But It’s Based on Religions

warning(s): religion

A book is published that is essentially a “bible” for the religion of you. It includes your whole life story.

A list of red flags you made in your world ends up being mentioned as sins in Teyvat so religious people and acolytes try their best to avoid it.

The list of green flags you made in your world ends up being mentioned as the things an acolyte does to be a faithful follower.

Your birthday is the biggest holiday in Teyvat (of course) where people eat your favorite food and celebrate. No one has work and it’s like how christmas is celebrated.

Your favorite color or the color you wore the most becomes the holy color in Teyvat.

Your favorite animal becomes a sacred animal, it becomes a sin to hunt, capture, or whatever your favorite animal.

Any tattoos you may have become religious symbols.

People with your hair and eye color are considered more connected to you and considered more “holy” so most often these people become priests/saints/or other figures under your religion.

Extension:

- you isekai into teyvat but its very uneventful since no one thinks you’re the creator.

- people won’t make a big deal out of it if you look like the creator

- if you have the same name they don’t think it’s a big deal since many religious parents name their children based on you

- you go about pretty normally until you start hearing people quote from your scriptures

- You become curious and read it

- At first you’re shocked that they have a book on your entire life

- you think it’s crazy how they interpreted everything that happened and how your dislikes become sins

- As you read on you realize that the book doesn’t end from where you last remember it

- It turns out that when you came to teyvat, you disappeared from your birth world

- The book mentions the reactions of everyone you were close to (the author included it to show how much you care about teyvat) and it explains though it’s a tragedy, it was a necessary sacrifice you had to make in order to help the people of Teyvat

- Only you had no choice

- Reading everything your family/friends have experienced after your disappearance breaks your heart

- You come to fork in the road where you must choose what’s more important to you - A game where you’re worshiped as a god or your family, friends and home

[lovebugism]

could you do some drunk Eddie blurbs or oneshots? Thanks! I love your stuff btw

✶ ┄ DRUNK IN LOVE !

summary: "you're drunk, eds" / "yeah, super drunk. and in the morning, when i'm sober, you’ll still be beautiful… i’m just gonna be too chicken shit to tell you." pairing: best friend!eddie munson / f!reader word count: 3.8k warnings: talks of alcohol, getting drunk, and taking care of a super drunk eddie! barely proofread so pretend any typos are nonexistent <3 a/n: i'm learning it's next impossible for me to write blurbs. i get an idea for one and boom. it's nearly 4k words. thanks for the request, anon! hope you like it xoxo

( MASTERLIST )

Eddie didn’t realize until he was halfway through his fifth beer, that he probably should’ve stopped at his fourth. 

He’d stumbled upon that finicky little fork in the road at the crux both drinks, a line he was toeing all night between blissfully tipsy and borderline obliterated. You can only really maneuver it if you’re smart about it, and in true Munson fashion, Eddie opted for the exact wrong decision.

It wasn’t like he’d ever prided himself on being a man of self-control. He was gluttonous to a fault, green and greedy at times, especially when there was free alcohol involved.

Eddie had been a grumpy little stick in the mud when you and him first got to Steve’s place. He didn’t feel like partying that night or sharing you with people he could barely stand. They were your friends, after all, not his. He only tolerated the bunch of them because you did. He spent the entire drive lamenting about how illegal it was — to be his best friend and have other people in your life you cared about the same way you cared about him. 

“That’s obviously against the rules,” he joked.

You only scoffed in response. “Obviously.”

Undeterred by his complaints, you drug him halfway across Hawkins with you like a storm cloud on a leash.

When you arrived, he found that it wasn’t a party at all. It was just Steve and Robin drinking together on the couch while Nancy and Jonathan stirred around in the kitchen and scolded Argyle for rifling through all the cabinets.

Music spilled lowly from the radio, a platter of snacks were laid out on the coffee table, and everyone smiled at you when you walked in. It wasn’t nearly as loud or as overwhelming as he’d dreaded it might be on the drive over.

Didn’t mean he was any happier about it, though.

“I don’t know about this,” he cautioned in your ear from where he stood behind your shoulder, seeking a familiar refuge in you once all the greetings were done. “We talked to everyone, can’t we just, like… go? I don’t think I’m gonna have a good time here, babe.”

Babe, he calls you, a nickname that’s left half of Hawkins believing the two of you were really dating. You stopped blushing about it some years ago, when the novelty of it wore off and it ultimately replaced your actual name.

You shrugged, grasping for a reason to make him stay. “Steve said he had a keg.”

The big silver thing next to the kitchen island didn’t catch his eye until then. You peered up at him, finding a sudden sparkle in his gaze. His bushy brows bounced and his pink mouth fell soft agape at the sight of it. Something swelled in his heart then, a distant and boyish happiness. 

“…I’m gonna try.”

He was pretty much a goner after that.

The beer was pretty stellar, but more than anything, the keg kept it cold. Eddie could barely drag himself away from the damn thing — the red solo cup hadn’t left his right hand all night. And when Steve let him handle the music, that was even better… Well, technically, he let you handle the music, but you sifted through his tapes and picked only what you knew Eddie would like — just like you always did.

Any other time, Eddie might’ve asked what the hell King Steve was doing with so many KISS cassettes, but he was already too drunk to think logically about anything by the time “Detroit Rock City” started playing. He stopped caring and let all the beer and music coursing through his system do all the work for him.

And while stumbling for his sixth refill with Robin, he concludes that he is, in fact, completely and utterly and unabashedly drunk. He’s still sober yet, enough to make such an admission to himself, but too far gone now to stop drinking.

He crouches slightly to bring the nozzle to the rim of his cup without much resistance. His tongue pokes through his tingling lips as he pours all of his concentration into aiming the beer into his plastic chalice and not completely toppling over onto the kitchen floor below him.

That’s when he spots you and Steve sitting on the couch, a little too close for his liking.

The brunette boy has his arms sprawled over the back of the sofa like he owns the place (Eddie’s too drink to remember he does, in fact, own the place) and your legs are delicately crossed and turned towards him, too enraptured in whatever conversation you were having to notice that your best friend had run off (you’d been trying to look after him all night, it wasn’t your fault he kept dodging you).

And it wasn’t his place to be jealous, he knew that. You didn’t belong to him. You could do whatever the hell you wanted to.

If he wasn’t so sloshed, he might’ve been able to recall that you don’t have a thing for Steve — that you’ve never had a thing for Steve, because you’ve spent your entire life in love with your best friend.

But you were too chicken shit to tell Eddie and Eddie was too oblivious to see any of it and it left the both of you in a permanent limbo of unsaid feelings.

So much so, that he once encouraged you to conquer the feat of King Steve one night, many moons ago. He thought he’d noticed the two of you being overtly touchy in the back of a dimly lit club.

Eddie was sober enough then to make fun of it all while still feeling every ounce of his misplaced jealousy as he playfully promised you that “you had his blessing to screw Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington.”

You should’ve known you were screwed when you told him that you didn’t want to screw Steve because “you had your eyes on someone else,” and he completely missed the brave, longing look you shot his way.

Eddie spent the rest of the night pestering you endlessly about your crush, while you just sat there, red hot and embarrassed about the whole thing.

Now he’s the one feeling like a fool, watching his best friend make nice with the dowager king of Hawkins.

Being without you makes the distance feel somehow wider from where stands across the too big house, feeling like a stray puppy everyone adores but never actually choses.

Robin taps him on the shoulder to bring him from his stupor before he can waste the foaming beer rapidly filling his cup, though there was no stopping the drunken war path he goes on after.

You and Steve giggle to yourselves as you watch Nancy twirl drunkenly to the tune of the Joan Jett, louder when Jonathan fights to keep her from stumbling over herself. The boy leans over to you, whispering a joke only you can hear, and smiling when it makes you laugh.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Eddie scolds when he stumbles up to the couch. “What’re you two love birds whisperin’ ‘bout over here, huh?”

The two of you blink up at the boy, surprised by his sudden visit and how much drunker he’d gotten since you spoke to him last.

He’s all flushed out, cheeks glowing red with the alcohol in his system, and slurring something fierce — the kind of drawled out garbles that only sound clear to the one that’s speaking.

“We were talking about you, Eds,” you smile without missing a beat. “Been missin’ you over here.”

Steve nods with a dumb, tight-lipped grin. “Yeah. You’ve been making friends with that keg instead of the rest of us, man—”

“Yeah, right,” the boy scoffs out a laugh with a bitter nod. He less than gracefully squeezes between your legs and the coffee table. “Scooch over, Harrington. Make some room. ’S too damn cuddly over here.”

With no choice but to comply, the two of you part.

“Scooch?” you hear Steve mutter under his breath with a faint laugh that has you giggling too. Eddie’s not drunk enough to miss the glance that both of you share, seemingly having some sort of silent conversation that’s left him, yet again, out of the loop.

He’s got a full on pout on his numbing face when he settles between you and Steve, losing his balance briefly before landing in a clumsy pile between the both of you. The beer in his freshly filled up cup sloshes over the rim and splashes into your lap. The alcohol stains the belly of your t-shirt, leaving it cold and clinging to your skin.

And it’s not as dramatic as the movies make it seem, where a guy spills a drink on a girl and something terribly melodramatic ensues. You weren’t trying to impress anybody, least of all with your outfit — hell, you’d probably stolen it from Eddie himself a lifetime or more ago. You don’t get angry or rush out of the room for a good cry.

Actually, you smile sweetly at him, with the realization that it was time for you and your way-too-drunk-to-function best friend to head home.

Eddie gets all sad about it anyway, though, because to him it really does feel all that dramatic. His face screws up like he’s just done something irreversible. His umber eyes glimmer at you with a particular sadness only a drunk person could possess. 

“Shit, babe… I’m so fucking sorry.”

“It’s okay, Eds—”

“No, it’s not okay. I’m sorry,” he slurs with the sloppy shake of his head. “Please don’t be mad at me, babe. I didn’t mean to.”

“No one’s mad at you, Eddie,” you affirm with a soft laugh, dabbing at the wet spot of your shirt with the bunch of napkins Jonathan (the only other half-sober person aside from you and Steve) haphazardly hands to you.

“I can give you another shirt, if you want,” Steve offers, already standing to retrieve it for you. “Might be too big but it’s—”

Eddie’s head snaps away from you and to the brunette boy. A cartoon-like anger coats his buzzing features. “Like hell you will, Harrington,” he tries to threaten, though the words come out half-jumbled together. “Won’t have my girl wearin’ your shit, Steven—”

You burn red hot at the new nickname, equal parts embarrassed and delighted as you stand from your position on the sofa. Suddenly eager to escape the situation, you reach for Eddie’s hand. “Alright, Eds. Let’s go.”

He accepts your touch without question, rising on swaying feet and forcing you to keep an arm around his waist to keep him steady.

He’s already forgotten what he just said. He has no idea that your heart’s just done a billion backflips for him. He focuses, instead, on the thought of a new adventure with you. “Ooh. Where we goin’ now?”

“I’m taking you back to the trailer, okay?”

Eddie rolls his eyes, suddenly displeased again. “Yeah, whatever… You wanna spend more time with King Steve, I see what you’re doin’—”

“I’m coming with you, Eds,” you laugh.

It’s like the switch flipped and he’s grinning all sloppy and stupid at you again. He tosses the smug look to the boy standing at his other side. “Suck it, Stevie—”

“Eddie!” you scold.

“You guys can just take the spare bedroom,” Steve offers despite Eddie’s teasing. “I don’t want you driving like this.”

“Oh, how fucking chivalrous,” your best friend grumbles under his breath.

“Are you sure it’s okay?” you press with brows furrowed in concern. “I don’t want to, you know, intrude or whatever. I’m good to drive—”

“No, it’s fine. Really. He should probably lie down anyway.”

“Yeah… Okay.”

“You know where it is, right?” he asks you and you nod

Eddie takes great offense to your affirmative answer.

“Wait, why do you know where it is?” he pouts down at you, figuring there’s something dirty hidden in the fact you’ve slept in your friend’s guest bedroom before. You shake your head and opt not to answer as you help him towards the stairs. “Why do you know where it is?”

“—Go upstairs, okay?” you shout over him, trying your best to stay patient. “I’ll check on you in a second.”

He lingers on the first stair and juts out his lip. His pointer fingers trails the intricate carvings in the wood of the banister while his glassy puppy dog eyes glimmer down at you. “…Promise?”

“Yes, Eddie. I promise.”

With that, he makes careful work climbing the stairs, hanging onto the railing for dear life as he goes. You watch attentively, prepared to rush to him if he stumbles, and able to breathe out a sigh of relief when he makes it to the top step. 

You turn away from the hallway of the staircase and back to your friends, who — save for Steve and maybe Jonathan — haven’t yet bothered to acknowledge the situation.

Robin is rifling through Steve’s cabinets for food, Argyle’s at the keg pouring beer into his mouth straight from the nozzle, and Nancy hasn’t stopped dancing the entire time. You’re not even sure if she knows the song.

“I didn’t know you guys were dating,” Stevie remarks with a smile. “No wonder he was being so… like that.”

You shake your head and duck your gaze. “We’re not. Dating, I mean— he’s just, like, super drunk.”

“…Really?”

“Really,” you breathe out a laugh at the way your admission make this face twist in confusion.

“I’ve just— I’ve never heard a drunk person talk that way about someone they didn’t, you know… like.”

A part of you so desperately wants that to be true.

Eddie’s never been particularly shy about calling you babe or sweetheart or honey in front of people — sometimes he did it just to throw them off. But something about him getting jealous over a guy you’ve never liked, calling you his girl to bat the believed ‘affections’ away, has a foreign feeling swirling in your belly.

You force yourself to swallow your hopes down.

“Well, you’ve never met drunk Eddie,” you tell him with a shrug. “The freak’ll say just about anything.”

You make your way up to the guest bedroom and find Eddie slouched at the top step. He looks terribly sad, pouting with his elbows propped up on his knees and his hands on his chin. But he lights up like a christmas tree all over again at the sight of you.

“What are you doing, Eddie? You were supposed to be laying down,” you scold softly.

“I missed you,” he whines, gazing up at you with twinkling, red-rimmed eyes. “And I got lost… And then I forgot how to walk.”

You try your best to keep a straight face as you help him up again, trying to ignore the way your heart thrums like a hummingbird when he leans completely into your side. 

You walk the staggering boy the short distance to Steve’s guest bedroom.

It’s as extravagant as the rest of the house, complete with large windows and expensive furniture and a thousand throw pillows on the freshly made bed. The entire room practically sparkles, there’s not a single crease in the bedsheets; it probably hasn’t been touched since the last time one of you spent the night there.

Eddie flops onto the bed when you urge him to sit down. He makes himself comfortable with ease, legs still hanging over the side as he throws his arms out, melting easily into the newly laundered blankets.

You navigate through the darkness, illuminated only by a subtle moonlight, to the seating area across the room. The newly granted privacy of the guest bedroom allows you to strip off your damp shirt. The wet spot sticks to your skin when you peel it off of you. The feeling makes you grimace. 

You don’t think twice about being in your bra in front of Eddie — he’s not even looking at you now — and besides, he’s seen you in less. You’ve been friends for far too long to care. Being naked in front of each other stops meaning so much after accidentally catching each other changing a half a billion times.

Leaving your shirt in a crumpled pile on the arm of the couch, you make the silent decision to sleep there for the night. Many a bed has been shared between you and Eddie, but he’s going to need all the comfort he can get tonight — the hangover he’ll have tomorrow will feel like hell, no doubt.

You look across the dark room at Eddie and find he hasn’t moved an inch. “Take off your clothes, Eds. You’re not gonna be comfortable sleeping in jeans.”

“Mm,” he groans in the darkness, as though in protest, already half-asleep.

“You’re already gonna feel like shit in the morning, especially if you’re sleeping like that,” you advise with a soft laugh. “Come on, Eds. At least take off your shoes.”

“…Don’t know how,” he murmurs.

You roll your eyes at him, even though he can’t see you, even though you do it all for him anyway. It was second nature to you, taking care of Eddie, and you do it with an ease that makes his drunken little heart swell. 

You start with his shoes, not having to untie them because they’re so loose on his feet. His jeans come next, a far bigger struggle because you do it with little help from the boy in the bed. His belt is strangely tricky and he claims his body feels too heavy to lift his hips for you.

But what he lacks in assistance, he makes up for in cheeky one-liners — “At least, take me out to dinner first, babe” and “If you wanted to see me naked so bad, you coulda just said" to name a few.

Once he’s clad in nothing but his Hellfire t-shirt, R2D2 patterned underwear, and hand-me-down socks that barely fit him, you maneuver him so he’s lying properly in bed.

You toss away all the pillows that are more for decoration than anything else, pull the covers down and over his body, and Eddie doesn’t do a single damn thing but watch. 

He couldn’t do anything even if he wanted to because his heart is so far in his throat he can’t breathe. 

You’re so unfamiliarly soft with him — sweet in your way than anyone will ever be to him in his lifetime, than anyone will ever be to anyone else.

The love you bathe him in half-sobers him and tosses him into a spiral of self-hatred. Why did it take getting drunk at Steve’s place to realize he’s been so head over heels for you he hasn’t stood up straight in years?

Drunken words sit impatiently on his tongue. He lacks the self-control to keep the hidden.

“You’re so beautiful,” he mumbles tiredly.

Your hands almost immediately still where they bunch the covers up at his chest. Your eyes dart to his face and it takes everything in you not to duck away all over again, when you see the way he’s looking at you. 

Eddie looks so soft, basked in a soft moonlight streaming in through parted sheer curtains.

His brown eyes twinkle with stars of their own. He gazes up at you like you put them there.

He doesn’t miss the shock that coats your features. Your eyes widen in surprise of his words at first, before your brows furrow and you shake your head to yourself in denial — like you’re not deserving of them. Like you’re not standing over him in your baggy jeans and five-year-old cotton bra after he spilt his beer all over you, taking care of him because he’s too drunk to take care of himself, doting on him like it’s second nature to you.

As far as Eddie’s concerned, there’s never been a sight more beautiful than this one.

“Stop,” you manage a laugh, still swallowing down that glimmer of hope that lingers on the back of your tongue. “You’re drunk, Eds.”

“Yeah. Super drunk,” he nods unabashedly. A distant smile hints at the corner of his lips as he gazes up at you like he’s trying to commit your features to memory — the angle of your nose, the shape of your jaw, the softness of your lips, and the way you’re looking down at him like you’re wondering if he’s real or not. “And in the morning, when I’m sober, you’ll still be beautiful… I’m just gonna be too chicken shit to tell you.”

You never thought Eddie would say something like this — not something so profound it makes your heart stop and especially not to you. You always dreamed that he might. And you had nightmares that it wouldn’t. That he would utter them to someone who wasn’t you.

But here he is now, loving on you and calling you pretty and hating himself for not being able to tell you that, and you don’t know what to do.

“…Okay,” is all you can say in response, nodding your head like an idiot. You force yourself to move on quickly, focusing instead on tucking him further into the unfamiliar bed.

It’s easier than concentrating on your racing heart that ticks like a time bomb seconds away from going off.

“Thanks for taking care of me, babe,” he murmurs quietly, blinking slow and heavy up at you. “I’m sorry… I know I don’t deserve it—”

“I’ll take care of you forever, Eds. You know that,” you interject without thinking. “And you don’t ever have to apologize to me.”

Eddie lets your words settle over him like the cozy blanket you cover him with. They bathe him like warm water, prickle his skin like they’re cleansing him.

The intent behind them means more than he could ever comprehend, half-drunk or sober still.

He rises abruptly, disrupting the cocoon you’d just tucked him into, as he works with disoriented hands to peel off his shirt. “What are you doing, Eds?” he hears you laugh when his head and arms get caught in the fabric.

You help him out of it anyway, tugging the cotton over him and gaping at him when he hands the bunched up t-shirt over to you.

“Here,” he offers like you’re supposed to know what to do with it.

“…What?”

“Want you to wear it… And to go downstairs so Steve will see you in it.”

You roll your eyes though a smile plasters itself on your mouth. You slip the thing over your head and pretend it's just to appease him. It isn’t the first time you’ve worn something of his, but this time feels so much different. 

“Better?” you tease.

Eddie nods with a childlike happiness.

You’ve always been his, in your own special way, but wearing his shirt? It’s like you’re waving a big, brightly-colored flag — a lit up I’m with stupid sign with a flashing arrow pointed right at him. It makes him grin like an idiot.

“Now, go to sleep, alright? We’ll talk in the morning. When you’re so hungover you wanna die,” you joke, still perched at his bedside.

Before you rise, you lean over and press a quick peck to the tip of his warm nose. 

You want to do more than that, so much more than that, but you know that he’s still half-drunk — and that he might not mean a single word of this come sunrise.

You’ll revel in this softness now, either way it goes.

“And, for what it’s worth, I think you’re beautiful too.”

[evilminji]

:O !!! Wait a second... GHOST DINOSAURS!!!

They died. There are ghost animals. You CAN NOT tell me getting fuckin nuked from space by a GIANT rock that blasted you and everything you've ever known into near instantaneous oblivion, wouldn't leave some Unfinished Business and a shit ton of Ectoplasm.

BILLIONS of things died all at once.

Did most move on? Probably. We're any of them sentient? We have no idea! Maybe! Unlikely, but maybe! Still a MASSIVE, countries wide, molten earth lined, crater of instant death. World shaking and history making. Death in the blink of an eye.

If you're lucky.

But! I hear the arguments now. That was one event. The X or Y dinosaur lived before that! What I'm interested in came AFTER! Good points! But not RELAVENT!!! Because you know what ELSE that giant fuck-off meteor is good for? Aside for Death(tm)?

Television.

Makes for some damn good documentaries. Exciting graphics and neato visual effects. Ooooh~ look at our dramatic recreation! The cute baby animals, unsuspecting of their Doomed Fate~! Tense music! And now, a world from our advertisers!

You know who LIKES Space Documentaries? Danny. He's all ABOUT that Science Channel. Granted, they've been pulling more and more of these mid-tear "aliens built the pyramids" and "look at these swords!" Shows... but! Still! He grew up on this channel! He doesn't WANT to give up on it!

And, yeah, this is... kinda hammy... but it's still watchable!

He's enjoying the live tweeting from paleontologists who are ROASTING the thing to a lovely golden brown. Has choked on his noodles like three times already. It's great! But now? They are arguing over what the dinosaurs actually looked like again... and??

And, look, maybe it's the good mood and boredom. Maybe it's having the house to himself. Maybe it's his parents finally encouraging him to use his "ghostiness" for SCIENCE(tm)(!) the other day. Could even be his bad idea impulse acting up again, buuuuut.....

Teeeeechnically?

Nothing? Is STOPPING him? From finding out? He DOES have Zone compatible cameras. And can probably back trace where they should-ish be? He can find out. The colors might be off, but it's a starting point? Right? And heck, he's pretty sure inverse coloration in standard unless someone's shape-shifting, so he'd just have to inverse it AGAIN to get an approximately correct coloration for them!

....eh, as long as he leaves a "not exact, this was the best I could get" note, it should be fine.

Road Trip time! Better call Dani and see if she wants to ride a few giant mammals and some lizards!

(Needless to say? Some researchers get VERY exciting emails. And only accept they are POSSIBLE, because this is a DC crossover. So there is aliens and magic regularly popping up in their field of expertise, so WHY NOT? Just the other day, a whole ass TOWN that has been wiped out... got UN-wiped out! 23 years later! It's made headlines. Weird shit happens.

So gib. Release to them the Dinosaurs, mystery email man. Fork them over before they begin biting. You think this corduroy jacket means they won't hunt you down? HA! You know NOTHING of academics! WHERE ARE THE EXTINCT ANIMALS? Where are you hiding them!?!?)

@the-witchhunter @hypewinter @nerdpoe @ailithnight @hdgnj @mutable-manifestation

[little-diable]

Stay for a while - Charlie Swan (smut)

It's been a while, I missed Charlie, so @deathofpeaceofmind threw this idea my way, and I rolled with it. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated!! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: The reader is new to Forks, on her first day she crosses paths with the handsome Chief that instantly catches her attention. How convenient that they meet around the same time Charlie needs a date to his daughter's wedding.

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, lots of fluff

Pairing: Charlie Swan x fem!reader (2.8k words)

With her eyes focused on the road ahead, (y/n) kept humming to the song blasting from the radio, allowing the sound to fill her car. Even though her phone had stopped working a while ago, no longer able to connect with the endless-seeming forest surrounding her, she already felt awfully comfortable in her new home, excited about her new life in Forks. 

Perhaps it was the fault of being so distracted by the pretty town she was driving through, perhaps it was the fault of her giddy self, unable to concentrate on anything in particular. Whatever it was, it didn’t help (y/n) find her new workplace, the diner she was supposed to work at, hoping to find her new home in this town she had never set foot in before. 

With a sigh leaving (y/n), she parked her car in front of the police station, knowing they’d be able to guide her to find the diner. Her soft steps brought her closer to the building, walking up the stairs with a small smile glued to her lips. And even though she tried to keep her eyes focused ahead, (y/n) found herself bumping into something, or rather someone. 

A pair of strong arms found their way around her waist, keeping (y/n) from losing her balance. Her eyes found a pair of dark ones, a colour so rich they told a story of longing, struggles, and yet a softness she was a stranger to. 

“I am so sorry.” Softly (y/n) spoke the words, smiling at the man who had caught her. Chief Charlie Swan, a face she had seen on TV now and then, giving interviews about accidents that have happened in the area. (Y/n) felt a strange kind of warmth flush through her since she had always found him handsome, a face she’d think of when her thoughts got a chance to wander.

“That’s alright, don’t you worry. Can I help you, darling?” His voice shot shudders down her spine, momentarily having to avert her gaze to collect herself, unable to stop her smile from growing. The use of the nickname almost left her choking, unable to part from the man she already felt weirdly connected to. 

“Uhm, yeah actually. I was trying to find The Lodge?” With the chief now standing a few feet away from her, she got the chance to properly study him, his moustache gracing his features, and that almost cheeky smile that gave the man an even friendlier demeanour. There was something about Charlie Swan she hadn’t ever seen in another man, something she couldn’t put her finger on, yet it was something that drew her to him like two magnets made to find one another. 

“I’m about to drive there, if you want to I can take you with me, or you can follow my car with yours.” 

……

“Morning, Charlie.” A soft smile tugged on her lips as she watched the chief step into the diner, taking off his hat to properly greet (y/n). It was her third week of working at the diner, slowly adjusting to her new surroundings, to the friendly town that had instantly taken her in with open arms, and to the friendliness of a certain chief who only seemed to treat her this warmly. 

“Morning, sweetheart. How are you?” He sat down at the bar, staring at her with those eyes she found herself longing for every single morning, counting the minutes till he’d step into the diner. 

“I’m alright, very much looking forward to my first free weekend.” Her words drew a chuckle from Charlie, who was intently watching her pour him a cup of coffee. She loved these mornings with him around, with only a handful of customers filling the diner. (Y/n) found herself sharing conversations about her old home, her hobbies, and her dreams and longings with Charlie. 

“Do you have anything planned?” He took a sip of his black coffee, eyes glued to her features, not daring to look away for even just a moment. There was something unfamiliar binding these two together, something both of them felt, yet struggled to voice out, not wanting to overstep any boundaries. 

“I wanted to drive down to First Beach, I miss the ocean.” (Y/n)’s soft chuckles drew some more from Charlie. Even though her coworkers had told her that they had never seen Charlie this relaxed and happy before, (y/n) tried not to overthink their back and forth, not wanting to dig her own grave in the new town she would live in for a while. 

“I’m off duty on Saturday, I can come with you, if you want, show you around the area and introduce you to some friends.” Slowly she crossed her arms in front of her chest, unable to bite down her teasing grin.

“Does that mean you think of me as some kind of loner who has no friends of her own?” And with another heartily chuckle bubbling out of Chalie, he shook his head, murmuring something under his breath (y/n) couldn’t pick up on. 

……

“How long have they been together?” (Y/n) was walking next to Charlie, arms wrapped around herself to try and shield herself from the cold wind. The waves were rolling ashore, wrapping the two in its icy yet gentle embrace. 

“Not for long, but I fear this is something that will endure every struggle.” She watched a frown tug on Charlie’s features as he told her about his daughter’s upcoming wedding, clearly struggling with watching her grow up, turning from her dad to marry a man her father wasn’t the biggest fan of.

“Well, if you need extra moral support, I’ll gladly join you.” Charlie’s eyes found (y/n)’s, shooting her a soft smile with his arm slowly finding its way around her middle, pulling her to his side. Without overthinking what he was doing, Charlie pressed a kiss to her hairline, trying not to pay his racing heartbeat any attention. 

“That’d be very sweet of you, but I’m sure you have better things to do.” She moved away from him, not far enough to escape his embrace, yet enough to get a good look at his handsome face, unable to read the expression tugging on his features. 

“Better things? It’s a wedding, Charlie, what better things are there?” Both laughed in unison, eyes holding contact for a few more moments. He cleared his throat, looking away from (y/n) before they could give in to the pull that seemed to guide them. She kept close, her hand finding his big warm one to interlace their fingers. “I’ll make sure to keep you from murdering Edward, we’ll have fun, promise.” 

……

“Let’s go for some shots before I force you to dance with me.” (Y/n) had her fingers intertwined with Charlie’s, pulling him through the crowd with her eyes set on their table, ready to sit down for a few. But before they could even get near their table, they were stopped by Bella’s call for her dad, forcing the two of them to a halt.

“Bells, this is (y/n).” So far (y/n) hadn’t gotten the chance to speak to Bella, not wanting to disturb Charlie and Bella’s moments together. She had met a few of the Cullen’s, and even Renée, instantly befriending the rather giddy woman. And yet, as much as she had tried to focus on the people Charlie had introduced her to, she could barely focus on them, eyes drawn to Charlie’s frame at every given moment. 

“It’s lovely to meet you, Bella. You look absolutely stunning.” The girl shook (y/n)’s hand as her eyes kept flickering between her dad and (y/n), trying to figure out the relationship between the two. But before she could interrupt the somewhat awkward atmosphere now wrapping itself around the three, her name was called by Edward, stealing his bride away with a soft smile.

“Well, that was something. Shots?” Charlie’s raspy chuckles left (y/n) giggling, eyes not wanting to leave his relaxed features just yet. The dark suit he wore fit perfectly, making him appear even taller, paired with those dark eyes of his and the moustache she desperately wanted to feel scratching her skin. Charlie had a special kind of grasp on her body and soul, keeping (y/n) close without realising what he was doing to her.

“I guess she didn’t expect me to turn up with a woman, I only told her I’d bring a friend.” Her eyes grew a tad bit wider, tongue kissing her teeth as she pondered over his words. The alcohol flushing through her veins seemed to spur her on, guiding her towards Charlie with her arms finding their way around his neck.

“Did you just friendzone me, Chief Swan?” She was standing close, and could almost hear the uneven beat of Charlie’s heart, enjoying the way he was staring down at her, hands firmly placed on her waist. For a second, she debated kissing him, breaking through the wall he had built around himself for the past years, needing to protect his fragile heart.

“I doubt friends think about one another the way I think about you, sweetheart.” His words almost made her choke on her breath, wide eyes staring up at him as his thumb found her lower lip, slowly stroking the soft skin. Heat flushed through her, a fire so strong nothing could tame it, set on burning her to the ground. Silently she hoped that he’d close the gap between them, lips meeting hers in a slow kiss, but Charlie seemed to have other ideas, taking a step away from her. 

“Seems like Bella and Edward are about to leave, let’s say goodbye.”

……

If (y/n) had known that she’d find herself pressed against Charlie’s car about an hour after saying goodbye to the newlyweds, she would have died in anticipation, unable to hold back her excitement. But now, as Charlie kissed her deeply, hands holding her thighs, forcing her further against his car, her thoughts were all over the place.

His name rumbled through her as his lips kissed their way down her throat, moustache scratching her soft skin just the way she had hoped it eventually would. Her gasps left her, rumbling through the quiet night. Both were heavily panting, riled up by their unfamiliar touches, not daring to let go of one another.

“We should move this inside before my neighbour gets a heart attack when she sees me fucking you out here.” Charlie’s words left (y/n) gasping, not expecting to hear foul words like these rolling off his tongue. A squeal tore through her as he squeezed her thighs, pulling her in for another heated kiss. For a few more seconds they kept making out, only pulling away from one another as their lungs ached for some more air, “Come.”

With his hand reaching out for (y/n) to take, Charlie pulled her towards his home, guiding her inside. The second the door fell shut, she found herself pressed against it, lips once again pressed against Charlie’s. Even though (y/n) wouldn’t admit to it out loud, she couldn’t help but thank her lucky stars for the way Charlie was touching her. She had been worried about pressuring him into doing things he wasn’t ready for just yet, but the way he was touching her now seemed to erase every single worry she had about a moment like this one. 

“Let’s go upstairs, you deserve a nice mattress at least.” Charlie tried to part from her, wanting (y/n) to feel as comfortable as possible, but she only shook her head, fingers working on the zip of her dress, stepping out of the thin fabric. His pupils grew bigger once again, wandering up and down her underwear-clad frame. Slowly she walked towards the couch, murmuring a soft “I don’t want to waste any more time, Charlie”. 

Within moments he had her in his lap, allowing her hands to work on the buttons of his white dress shirt, suit jacket long forgotten. Both were desperate to undress one another, desperate to feel their naked bodies intertwined, and desperate to touch the parts they kept on longing for. 

“Fuck, I tried to hold back, I really did, tired to give you enough time, but it was torture not touching you these past days.” His words left her grinning, letting go of a simple “Same” as she pushed his shirt down his arms. Her fingers roamed his chest, exploring his warm skin. (Y/n) was too concentrated on his skin to pay his wandering fingers any attention, and how they undid her bra. Charlie’s groan ripped her out of her trance, letting her bra drop to the ground while she watched Charlie undo his trousers, set on fucking her right there and then.

“Charlie,” his name rolled off her tongue as if she was reciting a poem, set on expressing her adoration, set on telling him all about her feelings for him without needing to put them into words. “Fuck me, please, just fuck me.” 

A gasp left (y/n) as Charlie flipped them around, grinning down at her as he now hovered over her, doing quick work on her soaked panties, pulling them down her trembling legs. The sight of her bare cunt left Charlie groaning, eyes taking in every inch of her now naked body, “You’re dripping baby, making such a beautiful mess.” 

“Charlie, I need you inside of me, don’t make me wait any longer.” (Y/n)’s words dripped with desperation, eyes growing wide as he spat onto her cunt, saliva mixing with her arousal. He circled her bundle and grinned down at her as a string of curses rolled off her tongue. She was at his mercy, ready for the man she needed like a starving woman who needed her food, he was the air she was desperate to breathe, the one she’d search all earth for. 

“Let me grab a condom.” He tried to rise from the couch, but (y/n) wouldn’t let him, pulling Charlie down for a messy kiss. 

“I’m on the pill, I want to feel you.” Her words drew another groan from Charlie, grasping his cock to pump himself a few times, pushing into her without another warning. Both moaned in unison, eyes holding contact, not daring to look away for even just a second. He didn’t hold back, didn’t move slow, no, Charlie fucked her into the couch, high on the feeling of her clenching around him. 

It had been too long for the both, no longer used to feeling this close to someone they actually enjoyed being around, and yet it felt better than ever before, more sincere, more loving, more intimate. They didn’t hold back, didn’t try to swallow their sounds, giving into every call, choking on one another’s name. 

His fingertips dug into her skin, not daring to let go of her, of the way she fitted to him oh so perfectly. (Y/n) was sure that she’d forever remember this, forever remember his sounds, his touches, the way he fucked her into oblivion on his couch.

“Fuck, baby, you feel so good.” Charlie’s raspy voice left her gasping, arching her back off the couch, trembling thighs tightening their grip on his waist. This was messy, this was rough, this was everything the both of them needed. She felt him shift, felt him raise her hips off the fabric with another deep moan leaving them at the new angle. 

“God, Charlie, you’re so fucking deep.” She was sure that she felt him in her stomach, fucking her deeper than she had ever been fucked before. The way she shook beneath him, breaths uneven, eyes wide, warned Charlie of her quickly arising high, about to cum on his cock, about to let go with a call of his name. 

And it was the prettiest thing Charlie had ever seen, a sight so vulnerable, so beautiful, he felt himself tumbling over the edge seconds later, cumming deep inside of her. Her walls pulsed around his twitching cock, needing to hold on for as long as possible, not daring to part before both could relax, heavily panting. 

“See, I told you, there’s no better thing than weddings.” Her whispered words left Charlie chuckling, forehead pressed against hers. He pulled (y/n) in for another kiss before he slowly pulled out of her, watching her make a mess on his couch with a smirk glued to his lips. 

“Well, if they always end like that, I’ll have to drag you to a lot of them.”

[seat-safety-switch]

Night vision is a growing worry among motorists. It seems like new cars have ever-more-powerful headlights, which ruin your ability to see anything other than a retina-scarring cone of light. And that’s if you’re the one driving the new car. If you’re like me, and operate a rickety old car whose headlights are most generously described as “present,” you can easily be blinded by every asshole on the road who can fork over a down payment.

Worst of all, there’s no way to get back at them. Until now.

A couple years ago, I was introduced to a guy who was really into headlights. Making sure they had good bulbs, clear lenses, cutoffs, properly aligned, all that important stuff that nobody does. The thing he wanted to express to me most about my car, of course, is that it had shitty wiring feeding the headlights. When the headlights turn on, they’re limited by how much juice they can pull through that shitty wiring. He recommended that I get thicker, beefier wiring, like the kind you’d use to run a welder, or accidentally electrify your neighbour’s fence when you’re sick of him playing party rock at 4am.

At the time, the price of copper was pretty high, so I never took the opportunity to follow his advice. After getting an impromptu suntan on my drive back from work the other day, I now see the error of my ways. A quick visit to a nearby electrical substation equipped me with some exceptionally thick wire, and a bit of hammering and crimping got me the rest of the way. And of course the stock headlights wouldn’t do much: a subsequent quick visit to the airport filled the trunk of my car with some of those sodium bulbs that they use to warn airplanes not to crash into the airport. Perfect, I thought, and went along my merry way.

I didn’t have to wait long until a RAV4 bumbled into my path, shining its misaimed lights directly into my soul. Now, at last, the moment of my revenge was at hand. Also at hand: the high-beam switch. The exact memory of what happened next is a bit jumbled, but I’m pretty sure that the antagonistic Toyota was erased from existence only femtoseconds before my battery caught fire and exploded. Scientists are still confused about how, even long after my car has left the area, there remains a cone of perfectly lit road at all hours of the day, hovering ominously.

[bluegarners]

there tends to be a kind of under estimation in regards to dick’s attitude towards his parents. they’re more often used as The Reason for his path of heroism, and that’s true enough, but it’s a very focused Reason that often fails to include the actual Loving Parents. i would argue that thomas and martha wayne get more attention in regards to their loving on bruce, and in certain time traveling corners on dick as well, but it’s rare to see that kind of respect paid to john and mary grayson. the parallels we can draw between bruce and dick pretty much end after dick is taken in. we can count: loving parents; stable family structure; only child; bright future; horrific murder of parents; witness to said murder; and plot for vengeance as the core parallels between dick and bruce. where they begin to diverge is the point in which bruce becomes the guiding mentor for dick in how to channel that sense of grief and rage (though bruce had alfred, alfred played no part in diverting bruce from his self destructive path and encouraged it)

to that end, there’s a lot of talk about martha wayne’s pearls and mary grayson’s robin, but even then talk seems to only center around dick’s hero name and never what about the history the name implies. “robin stands for hope”, okay what else? martha’s pearls symbolize the catalyst for bruce’s transformation into batman, but does mary’s robin do the same? i think not, bc going back to the divergence between bruce’s and dick’s origins, though bruce remains the defining fork in the road for dick, if dick were raised in extremely similar circumstances as bruce, bruce would have more or less fulfilled the role that alfred did for bruce- which was mainly distant but caring adult figure that served to simply agree rather than direct. a reasonable conclusion, should bruce have fulfilled such a role for dick, would have been that dick should’ve become bruce #2. obviously, dick didn’t and the reason for that lies in john and mary grayson

this may ruffle some feathers, but there is a point to be made in the difference between the wayne parents and the grayson parents. let’s do some quick if thens: if alfred was left in charge of bruce, then alfred holds some responsibility in how bruce turned out. if bruce grew up to be someone emotionally closed off, then bruce is an emotionally distant, closed off adult. if bruce is an emotionally distant, closed off adult, then it stands to reason alfred reflects the same. so, if bruce and alfred are both emotionally distant, closed off adults, then when they take in dick grayson, dick will grow up to be an emotionally distant, closed off adult. right?

well, we all know that’s not how it turned out, and all reason for such a conclusion reside solely in the short time john and mary grayson raised their son. “but bruce had about the same time with his own parents. why did he and dick turn out so different?” and again i point directly at the implied differences in the wayne’s and grayson’s child rearing! the waynes represented a very nuclear family, one that is generationally upper class and in very prominent leadership positions. tracking the assumed and typical rearing patterns for that kind of family, though it may be a foundationally loving one, it’s also one that is radically different from the type the graysons represented. power and job structure rested solely with thomas and martha; bruce had very very little to worry about or any responsibilities other than making good grades and being a generally good son. comparing such a dynamic to the graysons, the power lines begin to blur a little. john and mary are employees, not leaders or heads of anything. however, they work in an extremely team oriented and cooperative environment- their earnings depend on everyone and themselves. though a prominent act in haly’s circus, they are not a completely solo one, and even then, it is a team, FAMILY act. since his birth, dick has been raised in an environment that focuses heavily on teamwork and perseverance. he took on enormous responsibility in being a part of the flying graysons, which likely wasn’t something he was being forced to do, young as he was. taking on a JOB as young as 9 years old, one that tests his physical, mental, and emotional strength sets him drastically apart from bruce when he was the same age. but let’s go back to john and mary again

no parent on earth would ever want to put their child in such a dangerous position as performing on the trapeze. and yet, john and mary did. why? dick’s initiative and his parents’ trust and strength. if john and mary believed that they lacked in some way that could put dick in harms way, i find it impossible to believe they would have ever let dick join them. dick did not learn his strength and endurance from bruce. dick already possessed those qualities before meeting him, otherwise dick would have never become robin and joined batman so quickly. the graysons set an ENORMOUS example for dick, one that set the tone for the rest of his life. taking into account the “it takes a village” familial structure that dick was raised in while with haly, dick would have learned that the strength of individuals COMBINED is what makes a person strong. even the formation of the flying graysons relies on trust in each other, that they will be caught in the next leap and that they can do these amazing stunts without fear of failure BECAUSE of the Faith they have in each others abilities. in addition to that, an environment that encourages strength and teamwork must also encourage FAILURE. one cannot learn from perfection- only through mistakes does one grow, and dick grew EXPONENTIALLY. dick grew, at the age of 9, to PRODIGY levels of talent and acrobatics. john and mary set an example so strong and so steadfast that it fostered dick’s stone-solid character for the rest of his life, even after they were gone from it

dick would have not survived his parents’ deaths were it not for the way they had raised him. it is why dick can move on and grow from it, whereas, as we’ve seen a dozen dozen times, bruce has failed to ever move on. coddled and adored as he was, bruce never had to face a challenge that his parents wouldn’t have gladly taken care of for him. the waynes did everything for their son because they loved him enormously, and what parent in the world would force their child to do difficult things- especially at 10 years old? of course bruce never had to confront things like failure or hardship before, his circumstances in life simply wouldn’t have allowed for it, and that is why bruce was so incapable of handling his parents’ deaths. thomas and martha did not prepare bruce for difficulties in any department, whereas john and mary introduced problems AND solutions to dick very early on. the SOLUTIONS bit is what set up dick for so much success- that’s the key difference between the two. dick had both parents AND guides, while bruce just had parents

dick would not have become a light in the world while with bruce were it not for john and mary grayson and their love and dedication towards their son. the credit for dick’s achievements as a hero may fall to bruce most of the time, but even bruce recognizes that he had zero part in the formation of dick’s strength of character. dick’s continued success and perseverance has EVERYTHING to do with those first 9 years he was with john and mary, and not a single one of the innumerable tragedies dick has endured has ever been able to disavow that

[diejager]

Little Red's Wolf

Pairing : Johnny “Soap” MacTavish x fem!reader

Cw: NSFW, exophilia, knotting, breeding, size kink, stomach bulge, biting, marking, blood, oral sex, werewolf, tell me if I missed any.

Wc: 3.5k

Little Red Riding Hood, was a kind and beautiful, young maiden from the village. Little Red Riding Hood was known by all, cared and loved by the small town as if you were their little girl. A pretty, little bachelorette in their small village. The people loved you, the smiling ray of sunlight that beamed across the street with loving words and gentle gestures.

Little Red Riding Hood was also the only one who dared venture outside the town, through the thicket around town, to turn left of the paved road and into the unknown. You were the only one who didn't fear straying from the path, having grown up near it, walking between the trees and exploring the darkest creeks within the woods. You knew it like the back of your hand.

Today would be a scheduled visit to your grandmother, to bring baked goods and wine to your lovely grandmother who lived alone in the forest.

"Come, my dear," your mother called you over, and a soft smile pulled her lips upwards. "Here is a piece of cake and a bottle of wine, take them to your grandmother. She is ill and weak, and they will do her good. Set out before it gets hot, and when you are going, walk nicely and quietly and do not run off the path, or you may fall and break the bottle, and then your grandmother will get nothing; and when you go into her room, don't forget to say, 'Good morning', and don't peep into every corner before you do it."

Donned in your usual red hood, the bright colored cloth ending at your knees with a white chemise and a black skirt, you took the basket in hand with great care, checking over the content you would bring to your grandmother. Once done, you left your house, turning to wave at your mother before you closed the door behind you: "I will take great care."

You walked through the long road through the village, smiling and waving at your neighbors and the neighbors of your neighbors, everyone knew everyone in a small town like yours. Friends of your friends became your friends too, knowing everyone had its perks and made everything easier, more familiar.

"Here! Bring this to your grandmother, Little Red Riding Hood," the Baker, a kind old man who lived upstairs of his bakery, called you over. In his hand was a freshly baked breath, warm and smelling heavenly. Into the basket, it went, wrapped neatly in an ivory cloth, woven with care by the baker's wife.

Farther down the street, the herbalist that lived in her hut, covered with scented grasses and pretty flowers called to you, "I heard of your grandmother's sickness, Little Red Riding Hood," she gave you her most caring and worried look she had, honestly dripping from her eyes and tongue. "Please, mix this with hot water before giving it to her, one quarter of this with a cup should do." The small bottle was carefully placed next to the wine bottle your mother had given you, safely secured with twine and string.

People waved and smiled at you as you walked closer to the forest's mouth, wishing you 'good luck' and bidding you a farewell, until the evening, when you'd emerge from the darkness.

The path was cloaked in the shadows of trees, the leaves brushing against one another in the blowing air, soft and calming. It pushed the gentle smell of nature into your nose and dances beautifully before you.

The road was paved in stone, soft, silver brick that stuck out, the dirt hugged its rounded edges and held it together. The trees hugged the path closely, hiding the turns in the road with greenery, beautiful and lively green. You skipped by habit, eyes wandering around the branches to see bird nests and shy squirrels jumping from tree to tree as you followed the path.

While the paved way led farther out, towards the edge of the forest, the dirt path at the fork led deeper, the way to your grandmother's quaint house. You turned and strayed from the popular road, heeled shoes stepping on the hard dirt. You hummed a tune, absentmindedly following the wavy line deeper into the wildness.

Shadows danced outside your line of sight, appearing at the corner of your eyes until you turned to see whatever or whoever it was. You were scared, although naive and oblivious, you grew up in these woods and knew that it wouldn't hurt those who knew it well.

When you called out, the shadow stood tall and rigid, a dark mass hidden under the shades of the trees. It rumbled out a noise, one closely sounding to a wolf's growl. You stopped to stare at it, watching it amble forward, into the lighted path. A wolf, as intended, covered in warm, brown fur with piercing, blue eyes that stared at you inquisitively.

"G'day, Little Red," he spoke with a slur in his voice, a deep rumble in it. His voice sent pleasurable shivers down your spine, you shuddered physically. He saw that, you knew he did, wolves were perceptive.

"Thank you kindly, Great Wolf," you bowed your head, smiling sweetly at him. You ignored the way his eyes glazed over, going down the length of your cloak and your naked knees to your shoes, then back up to your face. He drank you in like you were a treat to his eyes.

"Where yer goin' so early, Little Red?"

"To my grandmother's, Great Wolf."

Perhaps you shouldn't have told him that, for his eyes shone with a menacing glint, dark and ravenous within the ocean of blue. However, it would have been impolite to ignore such an inquiry, especially to a polite and handsome wolf.

He bobbed his head, his mane fluidly moving along his movement, soft and silky, yet disarrayed. He pointed his muzzle at your basket, nose wiggling as he sniffed the air.

"What 'ave ye in your apron?"

"Cake and wine and bread, yesterday was baking-day; and herbs for my poor, sick grandmother. All to make her stronger, Great Wolf."

"Where dae ye nana live, Little Red?"

Again, you pushed away the chill that ran down your back, his heated gaze weighed heavily on your small figure.

"A good quarter into the wood, her house stands under three large oak-trees and nut-trees just below it. Surely, you've seen it."

He thought to himself, thinking back to the house he saw many times while passing through. An old lady that lived alone so deeply in his home had always been an interest, especially the sweet scent of freshly-baked pie. He knew the old woman, Nana, he called her after being caught by the old woman years ago.

So he nodded, head cocked your way with a knowing glint in his eyes. He hadn't seen you at Nana's, though your scent - fresh and earthly smell of wildflowers that grew in the forest - was familiar. You must've only visited her when he was away, lounging under the shade, running through the trees, or stalking and hunting his prey - like you were, at the moment.

A sugary, little treat that he walked into after a run with Gaz. He considered himself lucky, extremely so for having found you before you reached your nana's house.

"Ye best be on your way, then," he mocked a curtsey, his tail waving lazily behind him. "Guid luck, Little Red."

His bright irises followed you, watching the back of your red cloak ride up the inside of your knees, shoulders bobbing along the rugged ground. He was addicted, obsessed with your scent and your appearance. You were soft and naive, too trusting of him, a wolf. An adorable little treasure he would love to eat whole.

He stayed until your red figure became a dot in the flora, swallowed up by the woods he lived and hunted in. He would wait, lurk behind you from afar and pounce the moment he saw you stagger and hesitate.

You did as your mother told you, you greeted your sickly grandmother with a "Good morning" before peering at every corner of her house, searching for any change since the last time you passed by. Setting the basket down, you picked the piece of cake and a cup for the wine, and put aside the bread and concoction for later use. Placed in a tray, you brought it to your grandmother, supported by pillows against the headboard.

As you watched your grandmother eat, you recalled the brief discussion you had with the Great Wolf, dangerously handsome and mischievous. You fed her the herbalist's recommended dosage, a quarter of a cup. She hisses and complained but still drank, swallowing the green mix with small gulps. Once she finished and rested comfortably under the drapes, you spoke, "Grandmother, I met a Great Wolf today, on my way to bring your cake and wine. Do you know of him?"

She muttered, a shallow and weak "yes" at your inquiry: "Kind wolf, that one," she blinked slowly, glazed over with tiredness. "Hungry too! A ravenous creature, but gentle, Little Red Riding Hood. Do not fear the wolf, he is caring."

Without much left to do for her (you placed the cake leftover and the bread on her stove, wine, and cup on her nightstand, and the rest of the concoction on her kitchen table), you bid your farewell and crossed the room to her door, sending her a kiss before you closed and locked her door behind you. The sun had crawled higher, nearly noon as it blared its heated gaze over your crimson figure, bright and energetic as the color of your cloak.

Rustling followed your steps, taunting and teasing every time you stopped to look around you, only seeing green leaves and brown barks with a few specks of vibrant color. the farther you went, the more eager they became, closer to you and stopping later than you did.

You heard panting and low rumbling from the being, it gave away your stalker's identity. Instead of walking the path, you stayed between the trees, diving into the shades created by tall branches and wide leaves. Within them, anything could happen without passersby seeing it knowing - unless there was noise to hear. You were baring yourself to the creature, oblivious of its intentions.

As if hearing your thoughts, the beast appeared before you, a broad and hardened frame looming over you like the mountains near your town did. His cerulean orbs shone under the shadows as he stared at you with such intensity that it made you shiver, a pleasurable chill.

"Oh! Great Wolf!" you called, sounding surprised with your gaping mouth and wide eyes. "What big ears you have."

"All the betta tae hear yer with, Little Red," he spoke, pointed ears flickering and twitching under your gaze.

"What big eyes you have, Great Wolf."

"All the betta tae see yer with, Little Red," he rasped, eyes taking in your voluptuous figure, dark with arousal.

"What large hands you have, Great Wolf."

"All the betta tae hold yer with, Little Red," he growled, arms flexing, threatening to close around you and cage you against his chest.

Your body thrummed, warmth flooding your body and heating your groin. His strong body stalked so slowly toward you, teasing you both. You ate him up, trailing from his snout and down his naked pectorals, from his sculpted abdomen to the bulge in his pants, and down his beautiful thighs.

"What a terrible big mouth you have, Great Wolf," you gulped, legs shaky.

"All the bettea tae eat yer with!"

He pounced, paws falling to your shoulder to pin you down. You fell with a yelp, followed by a gasp as he clawed at your chemise, ripping it in two. His warm nose nudged your breasts, tongue reaching out to lave between them. It was hot and wet. You moaned and gripped his head, reveling his tongue running over your mounds and swirling around your nipple. He closed his mouth around your left, perky nub, sucking harshly with the other being occupied by his big palm, kneading it sensually.

You cried his moniker, squirming under his skillful tongue. Your legs wrapped themselves around his small waist, grinding against his hardness.

"Soap, Little Red," he groaned, licking down your chest and your navel as he pulled down your pants. "Mae name's Soap, Little Red."

His fingers slid between your thighs, claw drawing a line down your inner thigh to your ankle. He panted against your heat, jaw flashing his sharp teeth, just inches from sinking into your supple flesh to watch blood roll down your slit and ass. Fuck, the thought made him hornier.

He latched onto your clit, rolling the tip of his tongue over it. Your legs were pulled over his shoulders, both hands gripping your hips from bucking into his jaw. They dwarfed your body, almost able to meet at the front. Your body wracked with waves of arousal from his motion and the pure implication of being speared by a being Soap's size, twice - dare say, thrice - your size.

He growled when you gripped his mane, pulling his hair and squirming too much, the vibration tingled, traveling from your core to the tip of your curling toes. He growled a second time, smirking at your thrown-back head and drooling mouth before replacing his tongue with his callused thumb. He wandered lower, dipping between your labia to probe at your entrance.

He loved the sound of your moans and mewls, crying out every time his muscle dragged the warm walls inside of you, thrusting and curling, exploring your drooling cunt with a deep hunger. Your walls spasmed and your limbs twitched, your orgasms teetered on the edge.

"Let go, Little Red," he groaned, the apes of your thigh slotting perfectly between his maw, teeth shy of digging into your muscle. "Come for mae."

You came with a silent scream, euphoria washing over you as Soap lapped your slick, hungrily drinking the essence of your pleasure. He rode it out, thumb gently rubbing your clit until you calmed down, shaking and gasping for air, but all you could smell was sex and the pungent odor of Soap's musk, a masculine and predatory thing.

With one last long lick from your ass to your clit, he pulled away, back hunched as he ground his crotch on your wet cunt, kneeling with his legs splayed open.

"Ye ready for mae, bonnie?"

You shakily nodded, the extremities of your limbs still tingling with pleasure. He smirked a cute and smug grin that fit his stature and personality so well. He dropped his slacks, pumping his cock, spreading his pre around his thick girth. You stared at it with amazement, mouth agape with hunger. What you'd give to have a taste of him, throat gagging around his girthy rod.

The red, angry tip tapped your clit a few times, you jumped and moaned, eyes pleading for him to hurry, to claim you and eat you as he promised. Hearing your pleading mewls, he tested the resistance, tip slowly easing in. He watched you take him inch by inch, lips opening and stretching to take him whole and raw. Spread to your fullest, you threw your head back, eyes rolling as you felt him push in. He perfectly filled you, bottoming out as his bulbous tip hit your cervix and bulged slightly under your navel.

"Fuck- tight lil' thang too, aye?" Soap groaned, his tongue lolling out as he panted, drinking up all the soft warmth that clenched around him. "This snatch's perfect for mae, eh?"

"Yours," you mewled, locking your ankles by his maned nape, pulling him closer to you, your red, swollen nipples pressed against his hard chest. "For you, Soap."

"Aye, fer mae."

He pulled out until only the tip lingered in, heading the loud squelch, and slammed in, head meeting your cervix and bulging. He started a fast and rough pace, pounding like a beast in rut, grunting and growling every time his balls slapped your ass. Your cum stained his brown fur, painting the growing knot with a white, creamy ring and his balls lewdly wet.

The innocent and naive appearance you had before was ruined by your current one, debauched and drunk with the pleasure that his pounding cock gave you. You tightened around him, wet walls clinging to his shaft as he pushed in. He rolled his hips, watching the protrusion swirl along his hips and the way you leaned at him for more, harder, faster.

"Ruin me, Soap!"

A primal urge overtook him, and he snapped his hips, plunging deeper, faster, harder into you. His thoughts numbed and his glands pumped dopamine into his brain, filling his thoughts with needs. He wanted to breed you and pump you full of cum as his knot kept you plugged. He wanted to watch you grow big and round with his pups, your breasts grow sensitive and heavy with milk.

His dreams urged him farther, draping himself closer to you, teeth lingering over your shoulder. He teetered on the edge of wanting to bite down and watch your crimson ichor ooze from beneath his teeth, roll down your shoulder, and stain your pretty vibrant cloak with a darker shade of red.

He could feel his fast-approaching orgasm, the beat in his chest, and the heat that pooled into his crotch. While his tongue dragged over the patch he was gazing at, jaw flexing to bite down, his knot grew, swelling around the stretched skin of your entrance.

"It's fine," he heard you say between your keens and the wet slapping. "You can bite."

A shiver wracked his back, muscle clenching and knot flaring. He gave a few thrusts before his knot locked, slowly pushing the swollen base of his cock fully into you. He bit down as he came, tasting your sweet (a delicate sweetness that he'd never tasted before, rivaling your slick) blood on his muscle.

You cried, screaming and mewling, your walls closing around him in a vice, milking his cock of potent cum. Ropes fired from the tapered tip, his slit oozing and filling you with burning warmth. He pulled back, mouth unlatching from your bleeding shoulder with a dazed look.

He licked your wound when you whined, cleaning it and kissing your pain with red-stained lips. He held you close, watching you move your hands to your bulging stomach happily. He followed your hands, how you rubbed your growing stomach, being filled and plugged by him.

"Sorry, Little Red, " he kissed you, painting your lips a pretty shade of crimson. "We're stuck together fer a while."

"It's fine, Soap, " your voice was slurred, expression content.

He really got lucky, stumbling on such a sweetheart like you. If he ended up knocking you up, he wouldn't mind staying with you, you've already made a place in his heart and mind. Your smell, your taste, your voice, and your soft hands were imprinted in his mind.

He didn't mind watching run after his - your - pups, caring and motherly, doting on his children. He couldn't wait to care for you. He's marked you, you were his and his scent covered you. He was yours too, he smelled sweet and flowery, he had your taste on his tongue and you drew lines on his back and arms, marking him.

A few minutes before

Like yesterday and the day before, the hunter made his usual way through the woods. He watched over the few creatures that lived in these woods. He scratched his beard, rifle slung over his shoulder as he recalled what Gaz told him.

He whipped his head towards a scream, body stopping on the path he took. He gripped his rifle and dashed through the trees, weaving between the trunks and bushes until the screams became clearer. The high-pitched sound turned to moans and cries, deeper, wolfish grunts joined the cries. He frowned, confusion laced his blue eyes until he got closer to the source.

"-Soap!"

He froze, jumping at the name he heard. He knew Soap, the wolf that lived in these woods along with Gaz and Ghost. He peered through the thick cloud of leaves and gaped. He caught a red cloth and a small - smaller than him and Soap - figure beneath the hulking mass of a wolf, crying and mewling at the ravenous predator. He recognized the vibrant cloth, it was Little Red Riding Hood's recognizable cloak and her voice.

He knew the girl for coming over so often, invited by Nikolai, his husband of decades now. He gulped and backed away, turning away with tensed muscles and a shocked - traumatized, even - expression. He wished he could forget the sight, wipe the memory from his mind.

He wasn't sure if he'd be able to look at Little Red Riding Hood's face without feeling the awkwardness crawl his way up his nape, clinging onto him like a sinful reminder.

[catsteeth]

The Caged Bird & The Leashed Dog

Sandor Clegane x reader

+:✿ Chapter - 7 ✿:+ Fork In The Road.

1-2-3-4-5-6-_-8

Summary: You are the daughter of Jon Arryn, you and your father travel to King's Landing with the intention of arranging a marriage for you. You catch a glimpse of The Hound during your first night in Kings Landing and it creates a mutual fascination even if he won't admit it. 

CW: SMUT MDNI, afab reader, cock warming, P in V sex, unprotected sex (Wrap it up), Fem Dom (if you squint), VIOLENCE, misogyny, angst, emotional unavailability, emotional vulnerability, The Hound being abrasive, mention of death, blood, threats of violence, mentions of arranged marriage, 

A/N: this was part of a much longer chapter so the next chapter should come out pretty soon too teeheehee. 

Word Count: 4437

You remembered the first night at kings landing alone. without your fathers protection, you missed, no matter how futile it might have been. 

you wanted to scream and cry “father keep me, father stay with me, father hold me” but you couldn’t. you couldn’t make a sound. you felt numb, if someone had sliced your hand open with a blade you’d not have noticed. sometimes tears would fall from your eyes straight into the ground and you’d not even noticed you were tearing up. 

that’s the hardest part of being so hard was that when you cracked it shattered more than you noticed. more than you’d be comfortable admitting even to yourself. 

when you mother and brother died your father feared you’d be turn mute for good. 

that’s what intrigued Sandor most. 

you suffered silently. you suffered with expertise. 

once he’d known your heart. your loyalty, devotion, and your fearlessness was when his fascination turned into something deeper. He thought it was obsession and maybe it was, but it was more personal than that too. Poets would call it love. He’d call it nothing. He’d never spoken of it therefore it had no language. It was just what he felt, he knew he cared that was it and that was all he’d admit. 

A day had past since your escape. You both were hungry, he especially. 

You were beginning to enjoy the freedom that came with this new way of life, however. There were downsides. The constant exposure to the elements, the lack of food, hot water, and the lingering fear. Fear of being caught, fear of what was happening now to your cousin, and what Loras would think of you leaving. 

But you had freedom, no more hand maidens pawing at you the moment you woke up to the moment you fell asleep. You no longer had to endure the torment of the Lannister's. No longer had to marry a man you didn’t love, not really anyway. 

As you rode that day, you stopped to water the horses. As you did, a group of five men were riding down the trail behind you. You looked back at them as you heard the sound of their horses trotting. 

“Don’t look at em’” Sandor grumbled, not looking at you. You looked back to, Lika. 

You pet Lika, trying to distract yourself as you felt a pit in your stomach. A pit of dreadful anxiety. You always felt that same anxiety every time you knew something terrible was coming. 

“Don’t fuckin’ look at em’." He grumbled even lower this time as the men came closer. You looked at him and he was looking right back at you. Until his gaze went back to the water Stranger was drinking from. 

It was a large watering hole, so it wasn’t surprising to Sandor when the five men stopped there as well to water their horses. 

As soon as they did, Sandor walked closer towards you, guarding their view of you with his form. 

The group of men were a little rowdy, and they looked over to you and Sandor. 

“Hello there, friends!” A bald man shouted, and your stomach dropped. 

Sandor looked over at the man, show him that permanent scowl on his face.

“I know you, you’re the hound, Joffrey's Dog.” A man with longer hair shouted again.

“How far til Saltpans?” The hound asked ignoring the mans comment. 

“I reckon a day. Maybe another if you’re unlucky.” The bald man said. 

Sandor took the answer and left it at that. Looking away. 

“What’re you doing out there? Far from Kings Landing.” The Stout man said.

“I heard Joffrey's hound ran from the battle of the blackwater.” A tall and dark man said, he seemed angrier than the other men. 

His tone made Lika spook slightly.

“Easy.” You whispered to Lika, stroking her snout. 

“Pretty creature you got there.” the stout man said, you had the feeling he wasn’t talking about Lika, his eyes were on you.

Sandor stepped in front of the mans view of you, “You’ve got food there?” The men had sacks of what looked like food, and a lot of it. “Bring me it.” 

“You got something to trade for it?” The tall man asked

“Not a thing.” The Hound said, it made you want to roll into a ball. He was aggressively confident. 

“Now Dog, we know that ain’t true.” The tall man said tilting his head to get a better look at you. 

“Your cunt friend speaks like that again and I’ll cut out his fucking tongue.” The Hound hissed

“Oh but he’s right the crowns offering a pretty penny for you my friend.” The bald man said.

“And you think you’re the ones to collect it?” The Hound asked with his eyebrows raised.

“Five of us, one of you, and the girl.” The taller man taunted.

“Tell you what, we’ll make a deal with you. It’s been a long journey for the five of us. We don’t want the trouble. We’ll let you go even give ye’ some of our food… for a go at your pretty friend there.” The stout man tried to ‘reason’ with the group.

“Fuck you.” You said with the same ever present venom in your voice. 

The group of men began to laugh at your words, but when the Hound stepped forward with his grip on the tilt of his sword made their laughter falter. 

“Ye have any fuckin’ sense you’ll drop the food and leave.” The Hound spoke coldly.

“You don’t seem to understand the situation.” The tall man spoke. 

“I understand if any more words come pouring out any one of yer cunt mouths, I’m gon’ have to kill each one ye.” He stepped forward once more

“You gonna die for some broken in whore-” The stout man wasn’t able to finish his sentence before The Hound stormed towards them. The men caught off guard were late to draw their swords. 

The first to go was the closest to him, the bald one. Unable to draw his sword in time, the Hound cut him down, nearly in half with one blow. You’d never seen anything like it, no, you had. It was like when Gregor cut his horse in half with one blow. You could stew on that thought long before he moved on to the next man.

The tall one, who at that point was able to draw his sword. Their swords clashed together, the Hound kicked his knees in, making the man drop to the ground. That's when he plunged his sword into his chest. He huffed as he retracted it from the mans body. 

He moved forward to the next man, a man with long hair. He seemed startled by the whole scene unfolding. He threw his sword to the ground and raised his hands up quitting. Sandor rolled his eyes and huffed in frustration, he lowered his sword and punched the man so hard his neck must have snapped. 

As the man hit the ground Sandor approached the stout man who said the final words that broke him. The stout man tried to climb his horse but Sandor pulled him down to the ground. Sandor loomed over him as he began to beat him with his hands.

“Say it again!” he shouted again and again as his fist plummeted into the man’s face again and again. 

You were so entranced by this violent dance unfolding in front of you, you’d hardly realized he’d only killed three men, the fourth was under his fist now, and the fifth was… 

“Sandor!” You shouted as the fifth man jumped onto his back. The man was able to cut the Hounds cheek with his nails, deeper than one would expect. The man tried to strangle him from behind, but Sandor was too tall and too wide for the man to. Sandor got ahold of the man, as he did Sandor managed to snap his neck. 

He turned his attention back to the stout man who was still breathing.  

Sandor took out his knife and stabbed it into the mans heart, wiped the blood on the mans sleeve. 

He approached you, he was covered in blood. Huffing and puffing, he put his blade back in its sheave. He picked you up by your waist and sat you on Lika. 

“Sandor…” You mumbled as you looked down at your clothes that he inadvertently smeared blood on. 

He grumbled something that sounded something like “Sorry”, as he walked back over to the bundles of food still attached to the abandoned horses. As he untied each one, and carried all of them back to your horses, you couldn’t help but admire his strength. One man would struggle to carry just one but he could called all three without struggle.

꒰ ୨୧ ─・┈ ꒱꒱

You had washed your pants, your wool sweater, and Sandor's armor, in the water after the attack. They laid out on a near rock as they dried. You two sat beside one another in front of a warm fire. 

Sandor sloppily shoveled meat and bread into his mouth with his large brutish hands. You watched him, in awe. How he could have killed five men and less than an hour later be eating like a king. 

“Eat.” Sandor said with a mouth full of food. you shook your head, “Fuck-” He hissed under his breathe, ripping a piece of meat off and holding it up to your mouth, “I’m not that imp lord, I won’t let you starve. You can eat it or I'll make you eat it.” You pouted a little, looking from his eyes to the piece of food in his hands. You took his wrist and moved his hand closer to your mouth as you ate in as he wished, from his fingers. 

As you chewed it your face scrunched up, “It’s-” 

“Shit” He said shoveling more into his mouth.

“Hardly worth dying for.” You said as you grabbed some bread, hoping it’d be better than the meat.

“Those cunts didn’t die for the fucking food.” Sandor grumbled, 

You stopped chewing for a moment and looked at him. His words, brutal but in some indecent way romantic. He’d kill five man for simply insulting you.

You watched him eat, in... adoration? Awe? Who knows. You watched him eat, and noticed the cut on his face still bleeding.

“Your face-“ You said reaching out to touch his cut cheek, he grabbed your wrist stopping you, “Stop it.” You rolled your eyes as you commanded and he actually gave in, letting go of your wrist. You ran you hand against his cheek, he looked down, avoiding your eyes. He pushed away his food, “come here.” You spoke softly. Instead of him coming closer he pulled you onto his lap. Wrapping his arms around you.

You used your sleeve to tap the blood away from his cut. Dapping at it trying to stop the bleeding.

“I told you… no one is ever gonna hurt you again.” He whispered, looking into your eyes.

“I don’t want you hurt either.” You said still trying to stop his bleeding,

“Too late for that.” He grumbled.

You leaned in and kissed his lips incredibly gently, running your hands against the sides of his face, letting them run down to his neck.

“I don’t deserve this,” He rasped as your lips parted, 

You kissed his nose, “Too late for that.” You gently rubbed your nose against his own just before you kissed him again.

You kissed him deeper, but softly. His hands ran through your hair. He admired the length of it, the texture of it, the color of it, and the smell of it. 

You moved you leg over his lap. He kept at petting your hair, his hands traveled down to your lower back, the other to your thigh. You knew he was going to push you onto your back. So you stopped him, moving his hands to your hips. “Gentle” You whispered into his mouth. 

You began to rock your hips back and forth against his now stiffening cock. He groaned into your mouth. Your kisses still soft and gentle, but now increasingly sloppy. 

You felt his hands begin to ready himself to flip you on your back again. So once again you stopped him. “A mans meant to fuck his woman.” 

“I’m your lady?” You teased him with a subtle smirk as you kissed his jaw

“Well, youre not anyone else’s that for fuckin' sure.”

You pulled his cock out, grinding your clothed cunt against it, rocking your hips against it making his thighs flex involuntarily. He began to paw at your small clothes. 

“I’ll fucking rip these off you if you don’t take em off.” 

You grabbed him by his jaw with both your hands forcing him to look you in the eyes. “I told you to be gentle.” Your grip softened as his hands wrapped around your back. “Let me be sweet for you.” You whispered into his mouth. 

You moved your small clothes to the side and pushed his cock inside of you, slowly. You were wet, but not wet enough for it to not sting a little. 

You winced a little, “Nphm” You whined a little. 

“Thats what happens when you don’t let me-” You cut him off by kissing him again, 

Once his cock was in you, just barely brushing your cervix, you stopped moving. You just held him while you kissed him. 

He bucked his hips, hitting your cervix in a way that made you arch your back.  

“Don’t move,” You whispered in his ear, licking and nibbling on it lightly.

“The fuck are you doing-” he growled but then let out a small moan from your tongue on his ear.

“Shut up.” You said into his ear in a breathless moan as you felt yourself getting wetter. Fitting him better, molding around his now familiar shape. 

It made him growl under his breathe, gripping onto the plushness of your hips. 

“You’re playing a dangerous game, woma-” You cut him off again kissing him deeply, sucking on his tongue. He moaned into your mouth, and he bit your lip. 

You lifted your tunic over your head, tossing it beside you. You still had on the top half of your small clothes. 

Sandor leaned down and began sucking at your breasts through the fabric, his hands caressing them gently. But his grip tightened as you let out a moan and he felt you tighten around his cock. 

He growled into your breasts, the vibration from it made you even wetter, soaking his cock and only making it easier for him to sink in deeper, pushing against your cervix. 

He then discarded his own tunic, “Take that off-” His voice rumbled, so you did. You took off the top half of your small clothes. His mouth returned to your breasts, swearing against your skin, you could feel him pulsing inside you. You couldn’t take it anymore, you needed to fuck. Not be fucked, but you needed to fuck.

You rolled your hips and it made him bite down on the plush skin of your breast which made you mewl. You stopped after moving just the once, 

“You want more?” You asked petting the hair on his head

“Fuck do you think?” You grabbed him by his jaw and chin, forcing him to look at you. 

“I won’t do it if you don’t ask.” your hand trailed from his chin to his throat, squeezing it a little before dragging your nails down his chest. He bit his lip smirking a little, not letting allowing himself to ask, his pride stopping him. “No? Alright then.” 

“Please..” He said through gritted teeth, 

“What was that?” You teased him,

He grabbed your throat and pulled you to his mouth, “please…” He said again this time biting your lip.

You began to grind yourself on his cock. At this point you were so wet you did it with ease, it was all pleasure. You moaned into his mouth as he kept his grip on your throat. 

“Fuck” He cursed into your neck as he licked and nipped at the skin, “At’s it-  fuck me-” He whispered against your bruising skin. 

“Nmm- Ah! Sandor-” You moaned into his ear as you clawed at his back. 

“Taking me so-” He grunted, gritted his teeth “So fucking good!” He struggled to say without grunting. 

Your legs began to feel weaker, and weaker, shaking. Fucking was a new skill you’d obtained and this part was just as new. You knew you couldn’t keep bouncing yourself on his cock alone. But rather than admit failure, you licked his ear, and moaned into it “Sandor, mmmphm, please, I need you to fuck me,” 

Without hesitation his hands went to your ass, bouncing you on his cock. “Ah!” You moaned again and again, your breasts bounced against his chest, making you only that much wetter. You pressed your cheek against his, constantly moaning directly in his ear. It drove him mad. You could feel yourself coming undone, “I’m cuming!” You whined against his face. He turned his head slightly to kiss your cheek sloppily, 

“Good, do it, cum on my cock, Birdy.” He groaned into your ear. 

You felt your legs spasm, and you wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders, squeezing down his shoulders tight, digging your nails into his skin. You buried your face in his neck as you reached your peak, you moaned so loud, it could’ve been a scream. 

He took your face from his neck, holding it so you’d look him in the eyes, he brushed the hair from your face, “How’d that feel, Birdy?” Strangely gentle. You kissed his lips sloppily, 

“Keep going,” You panted into his mouth. To which he obeyed, pumping in and out of you with an increasingly erratic pace.

He looked down at your cunt sucking him back in, the thick ring of cream you created around his cock, the way your thighs were shaking, it was beginning to be too much for him.

His hand tangled in your hair, foreheads resting on one another, moaning into each others mouths, the way his hands made you feel safe. 

“Sandor,” You couldn’t stop the words from coming, “I love you.” You moaned breathlessly, you hoped he didn’t hear but he did, it sent him over the edge unexpectedly. 

He melted in you, you felt the heat spreading in your core.

As you laid against his chest, sweating, panting, exhausted, he said, so quietly you almost didn’t hear it, “Love you..” 

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

The next morning you woke in his arms. You both got dressed, and no real words were spoken.

As you readied Lika, Sandor came up behind you. 

He put a piece of bread in your hands. As you looked at it, he wrapped one hand around your waist and leaned down to smell your hair.

You just smiled to yourself, looking at the piece of bread. 

He patted your behind quickly, “Hurry up, got a long ways to go.” 

Just as you were about to mount Lika, you and Sandor heard the sounds of at least twenty horses galloping closer and closer, and the sounds of men. 

Sandor wasted no time picking you up and putting you on Lika.

“Go, take off that way and don’t stop-” He growled at you 

“I can’t leave you-“ You tried to plea with him, 

“Did it sound like a fucking question? Get the fuck out of here!” He shouted at you,

“No!” You shouted back with the same ferocity as he did. 

“Stubborn bitch.” He said under his breathe, “Take this,” It was his dagger. “That ways North, keep going til I get you or you get to the Starks.” He said,

“Sandor-” You began but he hit Lika and yelled, making her take off with you on her. You couldn’t get her to stop, all you could do was look back and watch as a group of men surrounded the man you loved. 

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

It was miles til Lika was calmed enough to respond to your commands. By then it was no use. No point in going back, you knew if he needed help you weren’t able to give it. 

Once you found a small creek you decided to stop let Lika drink.

As she drank, you sat there, wondering what to do. 

Who were those men? Where they Lannister men? Raiders? Should you wait for him? He said he’d come, was he trying to give you hope? Unlikely, he wouldn’t be so cruel. As you were contemplating, 

“My Lady Arryn!” It startled you, no one had referred to you as a Lady in so long, much less your house name. 

You turned to see a older but handsome knight, in pretty silver armor. He had a blue cape. And was riding on a large Brown horse. 

“Who are you?” You held out your dagger at him,

“Ser Varys Cole of the Vale, my Lady. I didn’t recognize you in those clothes, but how could any knight forget such a vision once he’s seen it.” 

“Ser Cole? You served my father.”

“Indeed I did, My Lady.” You eyes still watched him like a… well a falcon, “So perhaps given the circumstances, you could lower your weapon?” He said with a smile,

So you did, trying to play the cards in your hand. “Ser Cole, I require your assistance, I need to find Robb Stark.” 

He looked down regretfully, “My Lady, I am afraid I cannot assist you with such a task.” 

“Why not?” You pressed, 

“I am under the order of Lord Baelish to bring you to him directly.” 

“The Vale is under the direct protection and order of the Arryns as it has been for generations, and you take your order from Baelish, not I?”  You asked with furrowed brows and beady eyes,

“I am afraid so my lady.” 

You looked at him with disgust, you walked back towards Lika. “Leave me then, I shall find my own way.” 

“I am afraid I cannot allow that, my Lady.” He said, you looked back at him with a harsh gaze.

“You can, leave me. Just go and I won’t speak a word of it.” 

“My Lady, your father would want me to see you to safety.” 

“You believe safety is with Little Finger?” You questioned him like he were a child. 

“It’s not out here.” He said looking around, you hoped Sandor would ride up and cut him down. “My Lady if you do not come willing I have orders to take you in ropes. I’d prefer you untied. So would your father.” It only angered you more that he mentioned your father so much. 

You wanted your dog.

“I will not go to Kings Landing.” You said sternly, gripping on to your dagger. 

“No my lady, I’ve been instructed to take you Lord Baelish.” He said as if it were an improvement. 

You held the dagger in your hand. your thumb brushing the handle of the blade. You contemplated it. You could kill him. maybe. steal his armor, his sword. Travel north until you got to Winterfell. But that’s all to say you could take the armored man in combat, and that no one else along your journey would try to kill you either. 

“How far?” You asked, hoping he’d say it’d be a two days journey to him. So you could run at night. 

“Lord Baelish is occupying an Inn near by. He had a feeling you’d be around this area.” He was lucky you got separated from Sandor in that case.

He got off his horse and walked towards you, “You can go on your horse, My Lady. Or you can go in ropes.” 

“Ropes.” You said, you pulled your dagger our and stabbed him in his leg, but he grabbed your wrist before you could remove it. 

He gritted his teeth, “That was not necessary, my Lady.”

He pinned you on your back and tied your hands together. Placed you on your horse, then tied your horse to his own. All the while limping. 

“Forgive me, My Lady.” 

He said as he rode on, you prayed to all the Gods, old and new, for Sandor to be around a tree. For him to come up the rode, for him to kill this man, for him to untie you, and be in his arms again. 

But no.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

As you arrived at the Inn, Ser Cole carried you off your horse. You wanted to kill him for even touching you. He placed you on the ground and guided you to Little Fingers chambers. 

“What is this? Untie the girl!” Petyr ordered,

“Yes, My Lord.” Ser Cole did as he asked. 

“Leave us,”

“Yes, My Lord.” 

Ser Cole left the room.

You rubbed your wrists and stared daggers at Baelish, you wanted to kill him right then. 

But the knight outside the door would have killed you too, you’d have to wait til you had your dog.

“A sight for weary eyes, my lady. Even in rags.” He said with a twisted grin. 

“Don’t take me back there, to Kings Landing.” You asked, but it sounded more like a command.

“If you wished to escape why wouldn’t you have asked me, you know I would have done anything-” 

“You had ample time to help me and chose not to.” You interrupted him,

“You and Lord Tyrion seemed contented.”

“And you seemed contented to watch.” 

“I know he has been positively bereft in your absence.” You felt your stomach drop. You’d wondered on him, for a moment, but you assumed he’d be fine.

“Lord Tyrion is a decent man,” You said with concern in your voice.

“Then why not marry him?”

“Because I am not a decent woman.” You blurted out with venom,  “I rather you kill me then go back there.” You threatened. 

“I’d never do such a thing,” He ran his finers against the skin of your forearm. Sandor would have cut his fingers off for it, you thought. You raised an eyebrow at him. “I asked your father for your hand, did you know this?”

You swallowed, “I did.” 

“Do you know why I did?” You felt sick, a pit in your stomach, that same pit of dread.

“You want the Vale-”

“I wanted you.” He said as he leaned in and kissed your lips. Your lips did not move and your eyes stayed open. Sandor would have cut his throat for that, you thought. 

As he pulled away you pressed your lips together and looked down. 

“You aren’t taking me to Kings Landing are you?” You whispered. 

“No, no my lady I am not.”

NOTE: Hey all you cool cats and kittens, sorry if you had to wait a little for this one. It is a longer chapter so I hope it satisfies you or a lil.  Also I know, I know, the ending is a bit of a bummer, reading angst is never as fun as writing it but distance makes the heart grow fonder or whatever.  I also gave you sub Sandor so like…. You're actually so welcome. 

Beloved Tags: 

@dontfollowjuststuff

@helpmeescapethisreality

@merfic

@broadsdrinkwhisky

@the-queen-of-sorrows

@eddiesbongwater

@not-neverland06

[sphireath-wisp]

#To Live, Not Survive.

Sypnosis: I think finding reasons to live in others is one of the most intimate and beautiful things ever. Like, "yes, I want to live one more day, to wake up in the morning and drag my tired feet across roads to see you - because what would I do without you?" So, I wanted to write that out!

Warnings: Not Proofread, some quotes I made myself (so they might be a little cringy?), messy interchanging grammar, all characters in Sae's section are aged up including Sae himself, cursing, Sae and reader are the biggest situationship ever, Sae's section gets lowkey suggestive at the end(?)

Note: Finding a reason to live in others does not mean fully using others and relying on them as your only reason to live - that is unhealthy and there should be a balance of self-sufficiency and independence in everyone.

Featuring: Michael Kaiser, Rin Itoshi, Sae Itoshi, Reo Mikage x GN! Reader

Michael Kaiser

"It's not every day I let someone waltz into my life and hang around me, so be honored. I don't let just anyone poke their nose into my business, so feel special. You pried your way into my heart and I chose you because I like you, so I'm gonna make you feel special and you have no say in it." - Sphireath-wisp

"You're home early." You throw off your shoes before he quickly pulls you into a tight hug. Kaiser lets you out of his embrace with a low chuckle, tucking your hair behind your ear as you continue, "I was supposed to make dinner tonight. If I had known you'd reach home early, I would've started preparing already."

You frown. "You might have to wait a little longer for dinner tonight then. Why didn't you tell me anyway?"

"It's fine," Kaiser brushes it off with a mischievous grin - you can already tell he has something planned. His hands clasp yours in his, a gentle tug towards the dining table without much explanation. You follow him in the dim lighting, eyes sparkling at the candlelit dinner on the table. The scented candles fill the room with the sweet smell of vanilla and cast a warm glow on the plates of food, all of which range from your home country's traditional dishes to your own personal favorites - there's even German food.

Pleasantly surprised, you question, "Woah, what's the special occasion?"

"Nothing much. Just felt like celebrating us, Meine Liebe." He hums, voice smooth as honey. He pulls out your chair, gesturing for you to sit first. The ends of your lips curve up - he was always such a gentleman with you. Getting comfortable in your seat, your eyes travel to the food again, euphoria swirling in you when you're reminded that he did this for you and only you.

By the time you look up, he's seated across from you. "This is amazing, babe." You comment and pull your plate closer to you. Kaiser begins dinner with you, placing a cut of schnitzel on your plate first before serving himself. "Go ahead, start eating," Kaiser grins from ear to ear, eagerly anticipating a favorable reaction from you.

"...Hey, it's pretty good! I didn't know you could cook."

"Germans tie a lot of importance to family and the community. I learned a few recipes from my family when I was younger." He took a bite out of his food.

"So this is why you had that shit-eating grin when I came home? Because you wanted to surprise me?" You gaze at him, the corner of your eyes crinkling when you can't help but smile. A little playful banter always made dinner fun. "I wonder which 'top 10 things to do for someone special' website you searched for."

Kaiser gasps, nudging you from under the table and earning an amused laugh from you. The latter rolled his eyes. "You know," Kaiser starts, "you're more than just someone special, der Liebling." Pink is dusted on your cheeks when you hear him speak. "Really? Is that so?"

"Do you not believe you're more than just special to me?" He scoffs. "I don't let just anyone become my significant other, so be honored." Kaiser points his fork at you. "I did all of this because you're special to me, so feel special, Meine Liebe."

And he wasn't saying this just to be romantic. No, he set up this dinner with you in mind. He researched and followed recipes to a tee because he wanted you to like them. He bought candles and put his whole heart and soul into them so you would feel special - because you are.

You're really something, you know that?

He didn't mind pampering you and spoiling you to no end. He's found purpose in reminding you that this relationship is worth investing into, worth all of the time and fights, worth all of the misunderstandings. He's found joy in helping you, in letting you rely on him when you need assistance in anything honestly. Maybe he was just power-hungry. Having you lean on him meant that he was in control, but Kaiser is genuinely fond of you trusting him enough to be vulnerable around him. Plus, it's cute and he can tease you all night about it.

"I do feel special." You say with hearts in your eyes, "But still, why the grand gesture?"

Kaiser leans in, warm gaze meeting yours. "I chose to do this because I love you and I'm gonna make you feel treasured - no matter what." You pause, blush creeping up your cheeks.

"You're so cheesy."

"You love that about me, don't you?"

Rin Itoshi

"I haven't shown you the extent of my passion. I need you to see me win because that's what I promised you - a future where you feel safe with me, where I can experience both your sorrows and joy, a future where I can walk next to you and recite to the world how lucky I am to have you. Please, let me prove this to you." - Sphireath-wisp

"You know Rin," You began suddenly, staring blankly at him. " I would marry you if you asked me to." The striker almost drops his pen at your words, his heart almost stops in his chest but continues to drum against his ribs. He glances at you from across the table, resting his cheek on his hand and effectively covering the lower half of his face - just in case he was blushing.

"Hah? Don't declare something like that as a joke." or so he chides. You have to be joking. He's positive you're joking because that's the only way he can play this situation off without it etching into his memory and replaying it in his mind. It'll haunt him for who knows how long and his heart will explode. Be a little more merciful with him, won't you? You don't know how strong of an effect you actually have on him.

"I'm not!" The words the irrational, illogical part of him was elated to hear aloud. You only reaffirm yourself even more when he doubts you, a pout on your face. "I'm being serious, Rin. I thought about it and everything."

"For how long? Ever since you sat down and stared at me (something he pretended that he wasn't distracted by) doing my homework 5 minutes ago?" You watch his eyebrows furrow and gaze harden. "(Name)... don't go deciding who you'll marry so early on."

"I only needed 5 minutes," You proudly announce, legs swinging back and forth under the table. "Doesn't that tell you that I needed little time to consider because I was so sure you're the one I wanna marry, my future husband?" Rin's head swerves elsewhere and you lightly kick him in the shin, under the assumption that he was so dumbfounded by your reasoning that he refuses to even look in your direction.

And you were right - half-right. He was dumbfounded, bewildered, stunned to the point that his composure had been rudely thrown out of the window. The deep breath he took - which you presumed to be an exasperated sigh - didn't help calm the intense pounding in his chest, he could still hear it loud and clear in his ears. He scowled, a heat he was forced to get accustomed to pooling in the apple of his cheeks and taking a physical form as hues of deep red on the tip of his ears. He can't risk facing you in this state.

In normal circumstances, he would label you as an idiot like he usually does, though he never actually means harm. He'd sigh at you and give you this 'seriously?' stare that told you he isn't on the same boat as you, so it won't matter to him if you're sinking. Now, you're the one spouting out poetic lines and you know exactly what you're doing to him - he's positive. Terrible, really, you truly have no consideration for his poor heart.

"What exactly were you daydreaming of during those 5 minutes? What was so convincing that it made you want to marry me, huh?" Rin presses on further.

"I love you. You stood up for me and defended me so many times. You reminded me and constantly drilled into my head that I shouldn't settle for less." and... silence, an uncomfortable one at that.

"That's it?" Rin's face scrunches up as if he was expecting more than just that. "That's all it takes?" He was no good with words, so it came out more harsh than planned. "Come on, there has to be more than that."

You stopped taking the conversation lightheartedly with the sudden change. Your gut churns uncomfortably in you. Your smile fades. "...Am I forgetting something?" Was he expecting you to list out everything he did? Did he think you forgot?

"No, it's just-" Rin curses himself. Pressing his thumb and middle finger on the temple of his head, he rubs his temples in circles and hurriedly slaps words together that he hoped would get his message across. "You can't marry someone for just... that. I won't let you."

You fidget with your hands on the table and he notices your discomfort - he hates this feeling of guilt that stabs his gut, he had forgotten how easy it is for his mouth to run. Stacking his hand on yours, he envelops your hand with the warmth of his - you accept despite everything.

"I'm... not that good at communicating. I still need time." Rin admits something he knew he needed to face if he wanted to be worthy of becoming your husband. He won't allow himself to take up the title of your future husband just yet. "There are still things I want to do to prove I'll always be there for you."

He has always been fighting to prove himself. In soccer, it's to beat Sae. Now, it's embedded in his daily life - whether it's planning dates or learning about you and himself - to prove himself to you that he's worth it. He finds purpose in improving himself and his attitude outside of soccer - to finally convince himself and you that he deserves you. "Don't go calling me your future husband. I'll get complacent before I can show you how far I'll go for you."

Your tense shoulders drop. Lovestruck eyes stare back at him as a relieved sigh escapes you. "Rin..." His name rolls off your tongue in a way that makes him remember just why your voice was his favorite sound, "I love you."

He rubs your knuckles as a silent 'I love you'/apology for the misunderstanding - he'll have to hurry up and learn how to phrase his words better in the future to avoid mishaps like this.

Sae Itoshi

"Humans were so desperate to understand each other that we created languages - both verbal and non-verbal. Isn't that the same for us? For a long time, we didn't know what to say or how to tell each other things so tender, to be vulnerable around each other, but we still wanted to know each other. You squeezed my hand, I squeezed yours - and I telepathically knew." - Sphireath-wisp

Sae can't help but let out a sigh, exhausted from the match that his team won. The tension he held in his body during the match released with the relieving announcement that he won, that all of his efforts didn't go down the drain, and left behind his worn-out body.

He wasn't fond of the idea of joining his teammates for an after-match celebration at the indoor barbecue grill just down the street. Sae was more than aware it would eventually end with them drinking the night away. He burned up enough energy during the fan meet-and-greet - the last thing he wanted was another few hours of putting up with his teammates' antics.

However, he couldn't, not with you in the equation. Oliver butted in during Sae's private phone call with you. Despite all of his objections and retorts directed toward Oliver, him and that smooth voice of his coaxed you into tagging along. Now that you were dragged along with them, he had to keep you close. He's not letting you hang around alone with them, he can't stomach the thought of them bringing you home.

It was a joyous occasion - or at least it was supposed to be. You could notice the glares Sae was shooting Oliver every time he poured another drink for you, the way Sae insisted he should sit between you and Shidou so you could sit at the very end of the seats. Everyone raised their glasses and you followed suit, but Sae always reminded you: "Don't force yourself to if you don't want to. Don't drink too much."

Sae lowers his glass after the collective "cheers", chugging it down with ease. Silently, he chews on his food, eyes occasionally glancing at you to check if you're okay. One sign of his discomfort and he's out of there with you - perhaps he was hoping the both of you could get out there as soon as possible.

He'll put you first this time - something he rarely does for anyone else because he's at his very core, egocentric. If you're enjoying this, he supposes it's okay.

"Hey Sae," You pour him a drink as everyone else is absorbed in their own conversations, the alcohol adding a slight flush to your face and the tips of your ears, "are you happy?"

He takes a moment to process your question, the alcohol having its own effect on him. "...yeah, why? Are you not?"

"I am, very actually. I'm happy you won. You worked hard for it and you deserved it," you add - being tipsy does certainly make it easier to express yourself to the midfielder as it causes you to begin rambling a little, "You just seem a little... upset?"

Things between you and him go quiet and you glance away. "No, never mind. Forget I said anything-"

"Yeah, I am. I want to go home." Sae speaks bluntly - he's always like this, but it seemed much harder with you. It was as if he had to be careful when it came to you, scrutinize and pick every word to make sure the message he wanted to get across wasn't distorted.

"You can always go, you know? I'm sure your team would understand," You say between bites. He's painfully reminded that you aren't his, that as much as he wants to tell you that he wants to go home with you - he just can't cross that line between friendship and something even bigger. Sae takes calculated risks, but his feelings aren't numbers, he can't decipher this.

His hand accidentally brushes against yours and your skin feels like it was on fire against his touch. Goosebumps made their mark across your body and he notices when you shiver. Under the table, you cautiously reach out for his wrist.

"Sorry, can I?" You mumble, looking elsewhere. You can't bear to meet his gaze right now, it'll melt you. Sae's hands reply by enveloping yours, intertwining fingers. He holds your hand tighter and it feels electric. You can feel every callous, his fingertips hovering over your skin. You look at Sae, making eye contact with him.

He's focused on you, hooked onto the way your hand was practically made for him. It fit so perfectly in his. He couldn't get enough. You started this, so you better finish this was the look Sae gave you, grip hardening when you reached out for your cup.

"Wanna get out of here?"

You watch his gaze soften, melting like honey. He's grateful you can understand him so effortlessly because he doesn't mind treating you better than any of his teammates could. He's sure to learn about you with time, he'll know you like the back of his hand. He lives for the way you already know what to say to him. He feels heard around you.

He's no good at anything else but soccer, so he's found a new passion burning in him to understand you - how you could sit there and look so pretty, eyes clouded and hazy, tips of your ears flushed a pretty red along with the skin of your neck and collarbone. You'll surely explain to him your secret to making him feel so warm inside by tonight, it'd be quite selfish of you to keep things like that to yourself because he wants payback.

"I've been waiting for you to say that."

Reo Mikage

"Not to sound traumatized, but it feels unreal that someone can miss you and want you around so often. I feel like every worry within me keeps repeating, "Until when? until when?" and the people I love and that love confirms, "As long as you'd like."" - Schuylerpeck //tumblr

"Oh! Let's get-"

"Reo, sweetheart." You interject.

"But, I can-"

"No. You are not buying me anything else." Your hand wraps around his wrist, a borderline desperate tug on his arm, "I won't let you." You say firmly and the way your eyebrows furrow tells him that you aren't pleased at all.

"I'm sorry!" He blurts out before you can get any more upset at him, guilt weighing heavy on his shoulders when he realizes he overdid it. "I didn't mean to, I just wanted to spoil you. Your favorite bouquet of flowers was right at the display."

You let out a vexed sigh. "As much as I want to say 'it's okay' and let it slide, I'm not going to." Your hand reaches out to carry the shopping bags of items he had bought for you previously, not a single care in the world, and everything paid for with the swipe of his card.

"No, I insist," Reo holds the shopping bag in his other hand, preventing you from reaching it and earning a huff from you. "Baby, I really mean it when I can afford this. I'm sorry I made you upset, but you deserve this."

Reo slowly slips his hand into yours, relief washing over her in waves when you don't resist. "Baby?"

"Yes?" You answer - you always do, to his relief. You're terrible at being strict with him and even worse at being mad at him when he stares back at you, voice gentle and eager to do anything and everything for you. He was at your every beck and call, but you didn't want to abuse that privilege.

"Do you forgive me?" He wants to make sure, he needs to. He won't be able to put his mind to rest if he isn't 101% certain you aren't mad at him or else he might splurge again. If his kisses and charms didn't work, perhaps lady luck will be on his side and you'll spot something you want - then Reo can swoop you off your feet and satisfy that desire of yours.

You narrow your eyes.

"Is that a no?"

"I'm still thinking."

"Do you want to visit our favorite cafe? We can sit down there and rest for a bit. We have been walking for a while. Do your feet hurt? I can carry you! I'll call my chauffeur-"

You sigh, causing Reo to pause and frown.

He feels like he's going crazy in the silence and you feel your own heart clench at how disheartened he looks. You hug his arm to catch his attention.

"Listen, Reo," He stays silent, fully prepared to absorb your words and burn them into his memory, "I'm here because I want to hang out with you. I'm not here because I want a new pair of shoes or more perfume - because if that was the case, I would've just asked you for money. I'm here for you, we could go eat pizza instead of some high-end restaurant and I honestly wouldn't care because you're with me."

"I appreciate the gesture and how you insist you'll pay for all of my expenses," You quickly snatch a bag from his grasp when his guard is lowered, "but I'm not a child. I'm independent too. We have to learn to share our burdens and troubles together in this relationship, okay?"

"You're right," he admits without an ounce of shame and he's a fast learner. He's still a natural charmer, leaning in for a chaste kiss on your forehead. "You're so right. I'm so lucky to have you."

He feels this indescribable joy, to the point where the smooth-talker himself can't put it into words. You're there for him and you always will be, it puts his heart at ease, and it helps him breathe easier. You're engraved into his daily routine and life, but gosh, he can't get enough of you and all the surprises that come along with you.

"Do you forgive me now?" He hums, a little more confident. The lingering voice in the back of his head that drives his mind to the worst possible scenario becomes a little more quiet.

"Of course I do," You press a soft kiss on his cheek.

Taglist: @dewwberry, @saenora