#but also didn’t want to spoil parts I hadn’t seen yet

[daisychain-unchained]

At my last job, I had two other coworkers who were as into Always Sunny as I was, and it was great. One of them had a personal goal to work as many references into conversations with customers as possible. There was one particularly nasty interaction I had with a lady only known as Umbrella Lady who told me that my “smug aura was mocking her,” and my coworker was the first to pick up that that was Frank’s line about the German Shepherd painting lmao. We’ll never know if she was quoting the show or if it was a total coincidence (she didn’t seem like the type to watch it), but it became a running joke between my other coworker and his wife after that, he told me they say it to each other all the time now. 😂

This is my first time watching the show, I’m on the last episode of season 9 and I’ve loved it! My best friend tried watching the show well before me but always told me she couldn’t really get into it. Now that I’m watching it for myself, I’m like ?? What? You didn’t think it was funny?? (But she also doesn’t like Seinfeld, so maybe I shouldn’t be surprised lol).

Every now and then I’ll find Dayman getting stuck in my head, and I’m hoping that one day I’ll come across someone who also shares the knowledge of Fat Mac

[harryspet]

bambi eyes (2) r. cameron

[Warnings] soft!dark!rafe cameron x reader, daddy!rafe x little!reader older!rafe, crimeboss!rafe, rafe takes advantage of traumatized reader, DUBCON, dd/lg, sex trafficking, sexual slavery, sugar daddy rafe, stockholm syndrome, spoiling kink, unprotected sex, forced? age regression, little editing, 18+ READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

word count: 4.7k

In which you've been a good girl and your Daddy Rafe can't get enough of you.

main masterlist

bambi eyes masterlist

When you opened your eyes the following day, you could still feel Rafe all over you. All at the same time, you felt him inside of you, his mouth kissing your lips, and the bed dipping beside you when he pressed his weight into you. When you slowly realized he wasn’t in bed with you anymore, part of you felt you might have imagined last night. You’d never truly enjoyed being with men, and last night, you felt closeness for the first time. Perhaps it was the combination of all the gifts and the attention he had provided you yesterday. 

You still couldn’t quite rap the idea around your head that you were the first and maybe only girl he had done this with. How long was he planning on keeping you here?

The digital clock sitting on the nightstand read exactly 8:00, and you took it as a cue to get out of bed. As you made up the bed, your mind again wandered back to last night. You imagined he left as soon as you fell asleep, and you’d let yourself get so comfortable that you hadn’t even noticed. 

You stared at the doorknob for a short while. It would be locked, you knew that, but what if it wasn’t — it didn’t matter. 

Before he left, you noticed he left you an outfit hanging on the armoire. He’d picked out a matching set of light pink leggings and a matching top. He also picked out a pair of socks that had little, tiny bunnies on them and lacy, white underwear. You brought the clothes with you to the bathroom, your fingers caressing the soft fabric of the clothing. You didn’t recognize brand, sure that it was popular with American girls.

You went through your morning routine, one that Rafe had laid out yesterday, and you found yourself having fun. You brushed your teeth as you ran your bath. There were a million bath products, and you spent a few minutes opening and smelling all of them. You settled on something sweet and flowery, and soon the aroma was spreading throughout the entire bathroom. 

You settled in the water with the bubbles enveloping you. 

You almost settled into a moment of peacefulness until you heard your bedroom door unlock. Wearing a nice plaid shirt and khaki pants, Rafe entered your small sanctuary. You sat up in the water, worried that you’d been taking too long. His eyes were soft and unthreatening, and you let yourself rest again. He took a seat on the edge of the tub, looking down at you, “Enjoying yourself?”

You nodded, “It’s nice. Thank you, Daddy.”

“You’re welcome, princess,” He smiled, “You did good. Last night, I mean.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I have some exciting plans for us,” He stated before he reached into his pocket, “Here, I need you to take this.”

He placed a small white pill in your hand. You watched as he made his way over to the sink, filling up a cup of water and bringing it to you.

“What is it for?” 

“It’s, uhm, so you don’t get pregnant,” Oh. You placed the pill on your tongue, washing it down with the liquid, “I got a little ahead of myself last night. That’s why I’m going to have a doctor check you out today.”

“I’m going to the hospital?”

“No. Dr. Watts makes house calls. And he’ll be here in thirty minutes. I’ll come back and get ya’, yeah?”

“Okay,” You agreed, slightly worried that Rafe thought you needed to be seen by a doctor. 

Rafe moved to leave but stopped in the doorway, “Don’t worry, there will be time for little Rafe’s and Bambi’s. Just not yet.” 

You nodded, conveying your understanding, but in reality, you didn’t understand how he could know he wanted that with you, even in the future. After he left the room, you realized your fingers were beginning to wrinkle. You reached down to drain the water from the tub, deciding your next pressing issue was how you’d do your hair. 

There was a vanity made into the sink countertop with a place underneath for a chair to fit. You pulled it out and made yourself comfortable, looking closely through all of the drawers. You find lots of hair accessories, makeup, and other beauty products. You picked some things out that wouldn’t require a full tutorial for you to use. You also chose two pink bows to tie to the ends of your braids, taking a guess that Rafe might like that you match your outfit. 

According to Rafe, Figure 8 had a lot of these places called country clubs, and you wondered what sort of things people wore to places like that. Surely, Rafe would make sure you wouldn’t feel out of place there. If you fully earned his trust, if you continued to be good, you could probably have a normal life here. People were happy here, especially the ones that called themselves Kooks. 

The leggings fit you well, grabbing onto your curves, and the cropped pink top also fit you snuggly. 

Outside the window, you could see boats riding by in the distance and large birds that stood by the water, wading and looking for fish. You could already tell his home was large, just from the view from your room, making you curious about the rest of the house. As if he was able to read your mind, Rafe appeared again, holding the door propped open, “Let me show you the rest of Tannyhill, Bambi.”

You straightened, trying not to seem too eager as you approached the door. As you grazed past you, he rested a hand on your hip, rubbing his palm against your bottom. You looked down a long hallway with lots of old paintings and elegant-looking fixtures. He took your hand, leading you down the hallway, “This is my room,” Rafe opened double doors, and you peeked inside to see a large dark wood canopy bed.

He didn’t show you every room; in fact, he seemed to ignore one specifically. Your eyes widened when he brought you out onto a huge patio that overlooked an even more ginormous green lawn. 

“All of this is–”

“Yeah,” He finished your sentence for you, “Anyone would be happy here, right?”

“Yes,” You agreed quickly, which seemed to please him. He grabbed your hand in response, holding it and caressing your thumb with his own larger one. Although you could tell the seasons were changing, the weather felt nice, and there was a constant breeze flowing and relieving you from the heat of the sun. 

He gave you time to take in the scenery but five minutes later, you both could see a car coming down the horseshoe-shaped driveway, “That’s Dr. Watts. You ready?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

You didn’t have much of experience with doctors but you knew already you must not be a good patient. You struggled with almost every answer that Dr. Watts asked you and, at some point, he started directing all of his questions towards Rafe. 

When was your last period? What kinds of birth control have you used? Have you ever had something called a pap smear? Do you have any allergies? What’s your family’s medical history? 

“I gave her a Plan B this morning, just to be safe.”

You found yourself just trying to keep up with the conversation they were having. At some points, you found the view outside more interesting, “There are small procedures we can do. An IUD can be placed inside the uterus, an implant can be placed inside the arm, or there is the traditional birth control pill. Right now, I can give her a shot that will prevent pregnancy for the next 3 months.”

You were sat where Rafe had placed you, on a stool in the middle of the massive kitchen. 

Dr. Watts didn’t look like what you imagined a doctor would look like. He didn’t wear a white coat; in fact, he was dressed very casually in shorts and a button-up. He also brought all the things he needed in a briefcase. 

“That’s fine,” Rafe agreed, his arms crossed. 

“Alright, so after that shot, we’ll do a couple of vaccination shots. And then I’ll take some blood for testing.”

Dr. Watts had several syringes laid out on the kitchen island, picking up the first one after washing his hands and putting on some gloves. Rafe grabbed ahold of your hand again, his eyes commanding you to look at him, “This is just to make sure you’re healthy. It won’t feel good, but it’s not a punishment.”

“Okay,” You said, although your heart was pounding, and you already felt tears in your eyes. 

“I’m right here; squeeze my hand,” He said, pushing your hair back as he gazed over your face. On your other side, Dr. Watts lifted the sleeve of your shirt. The first shot was to your upper arm, and the pinch made you squeeze your eyes tight, but it was over relatively quickly, “You’re doing so good, sweet girl. What do you think about ice cream for breakfast?”

You opened your eyes, and the calmness in his eyes was a signal to you that everything was okay, “Lana has the day off, but I can make an ice cream sundae. We’ve got everything, whip cream, cherries, chocolate sprinkles. What do you think?”

Rafe made you talk through the next few shots and when the doctor had to draw your blood, and he wiped your tears when you were all done. 

“That wasn’t so bad. I’ll walk Dr. Watts out, and we’ll make some ice cream.”

Rafe noticed you seemed almost disappointed when he led you back to your room after your ice cream feast. He liked showing you around your new home and the place he grew up, but he wasn’t quite ready to unhook your leash. You were safest in his home and even safer within these four walls. 

Rafe took a seat at the edge of the bed, his hand still intertwined with yours, “How does your arm feel, Bambi?” 

“A little sore,” You answered, although Rafe could tell by your eyes that it was worse than what you were portraying. He pulled you gently forward, encouraging you to straddle his lap. 

“Poor thing,” Rafe said, his voice becoming even more raspy as he felt your closeness, “But hey, you did so well. You know, I’m really happy with you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, you’re a good little girl. I can tell that you appreciate everything that I’ve done.”

“I-I do,” You replied quickly, making Rafe smirk. 

“And you understand that I’m in control … I mean, it’s only fair. Who knows what would have happened if I left you with that man, with those people,” You nodded at his words, and negative thoughts of his father, Sarah, and his evil stepmother started to enter his thoughts, “I’m giving you the perfect life, the happy home that I never got. Whatever, I won’t get fucking mopey, but just know after all that I’ve been through, I know how to lead a family properly.”

He stopped his mind from wandering to darker places and grabbed ahold of your hips, “Thank you for … taking me away.”

“I had to,” Rafe leaned in to kiss your neck, “You’re mine now. Only mine.”

He loved that he could smell the perfume he picked out for you and feel you in the clothes he bought for you. He took so much care in creating this paradise for you. 

“Daddy’s going to make you feel better,” Rafe said in your ear, “I have to taste you. You want Daddy to taste your pretty pussy?”

“Y-Yes.”

“Tell me,” Rafe commanded, squeezing your ass with his large hands. 

“I want you to taste me, Daddy.”

“Good girl, don’t be nervous,” Rafe praised, wrapping an arm around your lower back before he swiftly turned you over, placing you gently against the bed, “I’ll be gentle, just how I was last night. Not going to fill you up, just want to taste you.”

You were quite helpless with your arm being so sore, Rafe could tell you were struggling to move it. He thought of tying you down, of course, when you felt better. He took his time with your leggings, still excited as ever to see more of you. He spread your legs, kissing your center through the fabric of your panties. Wrapping his arms underneath you, he pulled you into him, letting your thighs warm his face. He kissed you like this for a while, teasing you, making you squirm when he kissed your inner thigh. Not able to wait any longer, Rafe pulled your thin panties to the side, “There’s Daddy’s pretty little pussy,” He kissed your clit first, and the next sounds out of his mouth were guttural as he took you into his mouth. 

You tasted divine, sweet like he always called you. Rafe became relentless, waiting until you were close to your peak before he pulled away. Heavy breaths fanned over your sensitive area, and you whined because of the lack of friction, “You liked that, didn’t you, Bambi?”

“Yes, i-it feels good, Daddy,” You responded, slightly embarrassed by how quickly you got worked up. 

“Should I keep going? Does my little girl want to cum? Go ahead and ask Daddy. Tell me what you want.”

“Can you please make me cum, Daddy?” Rafe could tell in your tone of voice that maybe you weren’t sure what you asking. He hadn’t considered that you might not know what an orgasm felt like. 

“Yes, Bambi, of course. Talk through it; tell me what it feels like, sweet girl,” After those words, Rafe held you even tighter and dipped his head down again. He pressed his tongue into you, waiting to find that spot that seemed to make you cry out before he focused all the pressure there. 

“It feels …it feels–” You gasped, “It’s too much, it’s too much–” Rafe took your scattered words and cries of pleasure as a good sign to keep adding pressure. When you tried to pull away from him, Rafe knew you were having an orgasm, but he kept you there, “It’s too much, Daddy!”

Rafe pulled away, giving your clit a short break, but soon he was replacing his mouth with his fingers. Rafe shushed you, “It’s okay, I’ve got you,” He pushed two fingers in and out of you, curling them up to find the right spot. For Rafe, the best thing about being with a woman was being able to watch them have multiple orgasms in a row. This time, he’d only make you have two, but he’d soon find out what your limit was, “One more. Just give me one more.”

Rafe started sucking your clit as he moved his fingers, “Please, please,” You wouldn’t beg him to stop; you were too much of a good girl. He knew what you needed and wouldn’t let you run from it. 

He slowed his fingers as you rode out your orgasm. Rafe entangled himself from your legs, needing to see your face. You looked so cute trying to catch your breath and with your face scrunched up. Rafe brought his hands over his mouth, wiping away the wetness, “That’s my girl.”

A few days passed in your new room. Sometimes it crossed your mind to ask Rafe when you’d be able to walk around the house or when you’d get to go outside, but you stopped yourself every time. You thought you should be more grateful towards him, he’d provided you with so many things, and he was much kinder than any man you’d ever met. He was handsome, too, with blue eyes that often made it hard for you to think when you looked into them. 

Every day was similar; there were no more visitors like Dr. Watts, and you completed your routine exactly like Rafe had instructed. Usually, you’d share all of your meals, and Rafe would leave in between for work. You got more comfortable in your own company. At first, playing with the toys felt silly, like the activities were meant for someone much younger. Slowly, it started to feel like satisfying a part of you that hadn’t existed in a long while. 

Today, you had several coloring books laid out on the ground in front of your bed, and you’d spent most of the day coloring. You liked having your dolls set up nearby so, of course, they could see your work, “What do you think, Molly?” You’d spend hours by yourself, and it started feeling natural to talk to them, “Red or blue for the spots … Blue? You’re right; blue would be perfect.”

Rafe returned to you before dinner but you noticed he hadn’t brought a tray of food like he usually did. Instead, he was carrying a large cardboard box, “I’ve got a surprise for you,” He set it down on the carpet nearby you, his face lit up with excitement. You set down your marker, crawling on your knees towards the box. Rafe kneeled down with you, grabbing the back of your neck to pull you into a soft kiss, “You’ve been so damn good your first week; something came for you in the mail.”

You looked at him, baffled, “I don’t know what it could be.”

“Open it,” He winked at you. 

Cautiously, you pulled open the flaps of the cardboard and then reached into the mountain of packing peanuts. You pulled out a long box, immediately recognizing a doll's face, but one that looked very similar to you. It was the right skin tone and had the same curls that you did, “Really? For me?” You placed the box on the ground, just admiring her face. 

“Yeah, why should you have to play with my sister’s old things?” Rafe opened up the box even further, and you could see she was dressed in a beautiful floral gown. It was a cream color with pretty blue flowers, puffy sleeves, and an even flouncier skirt. 

“She’s so pretty … and the dress is…,” You said, unable to take your eyes off of her, “You didn’t have to; I really do like the other dolls–”

“I wanted to,” Rafe insisted, “And that’s not it. There’s something else.”

When you reached back inside the box, you felt the top of a hanger. You pulled out a clear garment bag and inside was the exact replica of the dress your new doll was wearing, and it looked your size, “For you to wear to dinner,” Rafe explained after you stared speechless, “Which, for tonight, will be served in the dining room.”

“We’ll be matching,” You thought out loud, next picking up the doll from the packaging. 

“She’s welcome to dinner if you want to bring her. She’s completely yours. You can name her and everything,” Rafe said, gently grabbing ahold of your chin, “I want to see you in your new dress, though.”

“Yes, Daddy,” You agreed, standing with both the doll and dress in hand, “If I’m Bambi, maybe she can be …Bunny?”

“That’s a cute name, sweet girl,” Rafe agreed, clapping his hands together, “Run along, I want to be surprised.”

Excitetely, you padded over to the bathroom. When you put the dress on, you were surprised by how similar they were, down to the placement of the flowers, although yours fit much shorter than your dolls. When you stepped back into the room with Bunny in your hands, you smoothed down the back of your dress so it would fully cover your bottom. Rafe’s eyes seemed to light up at the sight, and you did a small spin for him. 

“Wow, don’t you two look precious.”

His eyes looked hungry, although you could tell he wasn’t thinking about tonight’s dinner. 

For the first time in several days, you left your room, one hand tucking Bunny close to your body and your other hand intertwined with Rafe’s. The lights around the house were dim and Rafe led you to down a long hallway to a candlelit room. Although the long dining room had twelve chairs, only two places were set. Rafe pulled back the chair right next to the head of the table, and you initially missed his cue for you to sit as your eyes looked all over the room until he tapped your bottom. Your cheeks heated up with embarrassment, but you still took your seat. 

In front of you was a delicious-smelling plate of steak with a red sauce, small potatoes, and carrots. There was also a beautiful flower arrangement on the table, one made of cream and light purple flowers, “You look fucking beautiful, princess,” Rafe whistled, taking his place at the head of the table, “Like a fucking painting or something.”

Rafe’s words made you smile, and his compliments often made you feel overwhelmed. You weren’t used to someone taking notice of your appearance outside of sex, and when he looked at you, he looked at you as a whole, “Thank you, Daddy,” The words were starting to feel natural on your tongue, “It looks very nice in here, and the food looks delicious.”

“You ever been on a date before?” Rafe asked, pouring something fizzy into your wine glass. You shook your head in response, “Usually, you share a meal or do an activity together; meanwhile, you’re getting to know the other person. You’re lucky you don’t have to go on a million bad dates before you’ve found the right person.”

“What makes a date bad?” You asked. 

You moved to pick up your knife but paused when Rafe grabbed ahold of it first. He took you for as well and began cutting your steak into smaller pieces, “For me, girls have always wanted … things from me. Superficial things. You think they’re listening to you when you’re pouring your heart out …but really just thinking about how they’re gonna get what they want from you.”

You frowned, squeezing Bunny closer to your stomach, “That sounds horrible.”

When Rafe handed you your fork, you assumed you could begin to eat. 

Rafe nodded his head, taking a swig of brown liquor from his glass, “I don’t have to worry about it anymore.”

“Will your sister ever come to visit?” If the purpose of a date was to get to know the other person, you thought you could get some curiosities you had off your mind. 

“I have two sisters. Wheezie, she’ll probably come visit at some point, uhm but my other sister probably won’t. She’s not really welcome, anyways,” Rafe answered, poking at food on his plate, “Wheezie, though, I’m sure she’ll like you.”

Your lips pulled into a small smile, “I’ve always wanted siblings. I had some friends in the other girls, but Mas-” You stopped yourself, “We weren’t really supposed to like each other.”

“Blood doesn’t really mean anything. You should be able to choose your family,” Rafe said, “What matters is who’s loyal to you, you know?

You agreed, although you weren’t sure you really knew what loyalty felt like. As you were finishing up dinner, a loud knocking interrupted one of Rafe’s stories. Rafe seemed more caught off guard than even you were, fumbling to pull out his phone and check something, “Shit,” he cursed, “C’mon, Daddy’s got to handle some business.”

Rafe grabbed your arm as he pulled you from the dining room. He brought you to the stairs, “Go upstairs, close your door, and wait for me,” You tried to glance out the window panes by the front door but couldn’t get a glimpse of who was there, “Go.”

The strict tone in his voice made you hurry up the stairs, although once you were at the top, you ducked down and crouched behind the banister. You watched Rafe open the door, and a shorter, dark-haired man pushed his way inside, “What’s so fucking urgent that you’re showing up without calling?” You heard Rafe ask. 

“Don’t you look fancy,” The other man commented, “Having a dinner party without me?”

“Dude, what is it?” Rafe sounded impatient. 

“It’s Maybank. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t have some important shit to tell you.”

“Fine, come to my office.”

Their voices faded away as they moved further into the house. You debated sneaking back down and eavesdropping, but you looked down at Bunny, her face reminding you to be good. You wandered back to your room, and like Rafe told you to, you closed the door behind you. 

He was occupied for an hour before he returned to your room. Running a hand through his hair, he breathed out a sigh, “Sorry about that,” Rafe said, taking a spot next to you on the bed. 

“Who was it?” You asked quietly. 

Rafe hesitated, “... a business associate of mine. I got some bad news. I’ll probably be gone most of the day tomorrow.”

“Can’t I go with you?”

“You still need time to adjust,” He looked down at you, “It isn’t something you’ll want to see anyways. My work is nothing a little girl like you should be involved in. I won’t let you worry your pretty little head.”

“I’m sorry …”

“I’m not mad at you,” Rafe grabbed ahold of your chin, “Before if I had gotten news like that …man, I would’ve lost my shit. But I have you, and just looking at you makes me feel better.”

His hand moved to your throat, squeezing as he kissed your lips, “I want to fuck you so bad in that cute little dress.”

You struggled to get a breath, his tongue exploring your mouth as he tightened his grip around your neck. Instinctively, you grabbed ahold of his wrist, and he pushed you back onto the bed. Just as he released his grip and you were able to take in a full breath, Rafe grabbed you by the waist and flipped you over. His movements didn’t feel like they usually did; he was rough and desperate. 

“Up on your knees,” He lifted up your waist and then lifted up the skirt of your dress, your face pressed into the bed, “Good girl, stay like that, spread open for me.”

You heard him spit before you felt him press a wet hand against your clit, rubbing, before coating your entrance. He was already hard, and he wasted no time pressing his length against your entrance. In this position, you felt him even deeper as he pushed inside of you, “Daddy,” You whimpered. 

“You’re doing so good for me,” Rafe cooed, “I know you can take more. I know you can handle it.”

You squeezed the bed tightly as he moved faster and went just as deep. Rafe kept you from pulling away, holding your hips so tight you were sure they might bruise. Unmercifully, he rocked into you, only going harder when you felt yourself reaching your peak, “I’m cumming, Daddy,” You told him, your voice muffled by the fabric of the comforter, “I’m cumming.”

Rafe grabbed the back of your throat, pushing into you harder, “Cum baby, you’re squeezing me so fucking good,” Rafe panted, “Oh, Daddy’s gonna fill you up, sweet girl.”

You felt tears begin to fall, a swirl of emotions inside you. It hurt, him stretching you over and over, and yet you felt good at the same time. You were so happy to have a home with a new Master who actually cared for you and wanted to take care of you. You were still scared that you’d wake up tomorrow and you’d be back sleeping on cold, cement floors. 

After Rafe finished, the tight grip he had changed to soft caresses. He softly rubbed your bottom before slowly pulling up the skirt of your dress, “Lay down, Bambi,” Although your muscles were sore, you crawled further onto the bed, laying down on your stomach. Rafe fell beside you, caressing your hair and then your tear-stained cheeks, “It’s okay, I’ve got you.”

You wrapped your arms around him as he pulled you into a deep hug. Rafe rubbed your back until you thought you might fall asleep until you heard him say, “You won’t like it if you wake up in your dress. Let’s go brush our teeth and change into our jammies. Then Daddy will tuck you in, okay?”

Weakly, you nodded against his hard chest, “Okay, Daddy.”

part 3

[simplyraeblue]

hunter and hunted (jjk)

college (summer) break au: a fic in which y/n is pining over Yuji's older brother Sukuna, while unbeknownst to her, Choso is doing the same thing for her. contents: sukuna x reader, choso x reader, modern college AU, yuji and choso are brothers, sukuna and yuji are brothers, smut warning

chapter warnings/tags: fluff, angst, mentions of physical harm (bruises and bite marks), choso is literally a protective sweetie, reader starts getting butterflies for choso A/N: I literally dream of Choso comforting me y'all, literally sweetie pie 😭

index part six | part eight

part seven word count: 2,410

you had been working tirelessly to dodge Sukuna as if he were a plague. considering your body felt like it had been ravaged by an actual epidemic—with sore, aching muscles and bruises that seemed to throb with every movement—it seemed like a reasonable strategy. whenever you knew Sukuna was in the kitchen or the living room, you’d retreat to your room, barricading yourself from his presence. for two days, your efforts had been successful.

with both Choso and Yuji off on their separate errands, you experienced a mix of relief and frustration. on one hand, their absence meant you wouldn’t be questioned about your strange behavior. on the other, it also meant you lacked any diversion from Sukuna’s looming presence. deep down, you knew you’d have to confront him sooner or later—whether to unleash your anger or break down in tears.

maybe you were at fault; after all, you had ventured into the situation knowingly. but you hadn’t anticipated things spiraling the way they did, and certainly didn’t want them to end so badly.

one thing you knew for sure – you didn’t deserve to be kicked out immediately after.

luckily for you, you had heard everyone leave the house just moments ago. the prospect of raiding the kitchen filled you with silent joy. with no reason to remain hidden, you wandered out of your room in casual shorts and a t-shirt, your growling stomach pulling you toward the kitchen.

you peeked into the fridge, trying to decide whether to eat Yuji’s leftovers or cook something yourself. yeah, you were definitely going for Yuji’s leftovers. you’d make it up to him later—maybe.

after reheating the food and settling down at the bar, you forced yourself not to look at the counter where Sukuna had previously placed you. the thought of it nearly spoiled your appetite with anxiety.

just as you began to enjoy your meal, convinced that luck was finally on your side, you quickly discovered that the gods had other plans.

how did you miss the sound of the door being unlocked? you froze mid-bite, your eyes darting up just as Choso walked in through the front door. he hadn't noticed you yet, and you quickly considered ducking under the counter to stay out of sight.

“oh, hey y’n,” Choso greeted with a warm smile as he spotted you. you must have looked like a startled possum, wide-eyed and frozen in place. Choso’s smile faded into a concerned frown as he noticed your stunned expression. “are you okay?”

you snapped out of your daze, trying to muster up a casual, cheerful demeanor. “oh, hey Choso! yeah, I’m fine. just didn’t expect anyone to be home.”

Choso chuckled and shook his head as he placed his keys on the counter and headed straight for the fridge, pulling out a bottle of water. “haven’t seen you out of your room in a while. have you been sick?”

sick, sure.

“um, yeah. I don’t really know what’s been going on with me,” you said, shoveling more food into your mouth. you hoped Choso would fall into his usual quiet routine and retreat back to his room.

but Choso’s attention was fixed on you as he moved around the bar. he gently tapped your forehead with the back of his hand, clearly checking for a fever.

“hm, you don’t feel feverish,” he said, looking thoughtful. “so maybe—”

you wanted to disappear when you saw Choso freeze, his eyes locked on your neck where the bruises, shaped like teeth and fingerprints, were unmistakably visible.

“did you—” he began to ask, but you leapt from your seat, cutting him off.

“it’s not what you think!” you blurted out, the words spilling out uncontrollably. however, standing up turned out to be a terrible decision. Choso’s gaze dropped to your thighs, where the bruises were just as evident.

you could see the horror in Choso’s eyes as he pieced together the disturbing sight before him. you knew exactly what he was thinking, and his reaction confirmed it.

“Choso, it’s—”

“who the hell did this to you?” Choso’s voice was filled with so much anger as he moved closer, reaching out for your arm. you braced yourself with a flinch, but his touch was unexpectedly gentle, like a warm caress. “y/n, why did you just flinch?”

“I know what it looks like, but I’m fine,” you stammered, trying to keep your emotions in check. despite your best efforts to keep your feelings contained, they were starting to bubble over.

“it doesn’t look like you’re fine.” Choso’s anger softened, and his tone became more compassionate as he continued to examine your skin for any other marks. you felt like a specimen under a microscope, unable to move as he inspected every visible bruise.

“I promise I’m fine,” you insisted, though you could feel the emotional dam inside you cracking.

“who did this to you?” Choso’s single, pleading question, delivered with such a gentle tone, was all it took. the lock on your emotions broke, and the floodgates opened wide.

the tears you had been desperately trying to hold back began to trickle down your cheeks, and as soon as Choso noticed, he pulled you into a tender embrace, resting your head against his chest.

“it’s my fault, I wanted to,” you cried out, your voice breaking as you buried your face in his shirt. the sobs came uncontrollably now, shaking your whole body. “I wanted to do it, I just didn’t know it would be like this. everything hurts now, and it’s all my fault.”

“shh, it’s okay,” Choso murmured soothingly, his hand gently stroking the back of your head. you could feel the rapid beat of his heart through his chest where your ear was pressed. you were desperate for him not to be angry, and the thought of him confronting Sukuna filled you with dread.

“it’s not supposed to be like this, right?” you asked through your sniffles, seeking some reassurance.

suddenly, you felt Choso pull back slightly, lifting your chin so you had to look up at him. the look in his eyes was intense, a mix of anger and concern.

“no. no, it’s not supposed to be like this,” Choso confirmed with a firm, unyielding tone. you nodded slightly against his hand, but he kept his grip steady, making sure you stayed focused on him. “listen to me—whoever did this should have asked you if this was what you wanted. whether or not you consented, if you didn’t want to end up like this… they should have asked.”

he was right, damn it. you knew he was right, but you were still lost. Sukuna hadn’t always been terrible—there were parts of him you had seen that were softer, kinder, that he didn’t show to anyone else. now, everything you thought you knew was under question, and you felt adrift, unsure of where to go from here.

“is this why you’ve been hiding in your room?” Choso asked, his voice filled with concern as he noticed your small nod. “you have to tell me, y/n. who did this to you?”

“why, because you’re going to beat them up?” you tried to joke, but the uncertainty in your voice betrayed your fear. you needed to know whether Choso would confront Sukuna. hell, the thought of Yuji finding out made you shudder.

Choso’s eyes grew dark, and his expression hardened as he stared into your tear-filled eyes. “yes.”

his answer was a heavy confirmation. you knew you couldn’t reveal the truth; it was a secret you’d carry with you forever.

“I don’t know,” you said, trying to sound nonchalant, though it was a weak excuse. you could see Choso’s wariness growing. “I don’t remember his name.” there, that was a better excuse for him to latch onto.

“we’ll figure it out,” Choso murmured softly, pulling you into another enveloping hug. the warmth of his embrace felt like a balm to your aching soul, offering the comfort you had been craving since that night with Sukuna.

his hug was like a cozy blanket fresh out of the dryer, wrapping you in a soothing warmth. you felt safe and secure within his arms. as you took a deep breath, the scent of lavender soap filled your senses. the calming fragrance overwhelmed you with a sense of peace, and you could almost imagine breathing it in again.

you pulled back suddenly, realizing how your thoughts were spiraling. once the comforting scent of lavender faded, a wave of anxiety washed over you. “oh my god, Choso, please don’t tell Yuji,” you pleaded, panic evident in your voice. you were increasingly worried about how your best friend would react.

“y/n, he’ll want to know what happened,” Choso urged, his hands gently gripping your arms as if to anchor you in place. “you can’t keep this from him.”

“yes, I can. I’ve managed to hide it for the past two days, and I can keep doing it until my skin heals,” you insisted, desperate to keep the situation under wraps.

“I’m telling him.”

“no, you’re not!” you countered, your voice rising in desperation.

“I am,” Choso said firmly. “either you tell him, or I will.” his expression was resolute, his tone leaving no room for argument. “let him be there to help you.”

“but I have you,” you argued, hoping that was enough to persuade him. when Choso shook his head, you sighed in resignation. “fine, I’ll tell him. but only if you promise to be there to stop him from doing something reckless.”

a hint of a smile twitched at the corner of Choso’s lips, as if he was trying to contain it. “if he knows who did this, I’m not stopping him.”

“ugh, you men and your bravado,” you teased, finally managing to wipe away the tears that had been staining your face. you knew Choso was right; Yuji would need to know, even if it was the last thing you wanted. it would only hurt him more if he heard it from Choso first.

“do you want another hug?” Choso asked quietly, his eyes scanning your face for any lingering signs of distress.

even though you felt better, you nodded. Choso pulled you into another embrace, his warmth a comforting balm against the chaos of your emotions.

what you hadn’t realized, however, was that Yuji had walked in just as Choso wrapped his arms around you again.

Yuji stood in the doorway, his expression frozen in shock as he took in the sight of you wrapped in Choso’s arms. the room seemed to freeze, the air thick with tension.

Choso’s embrace tightened slightly, as if trying to shield you from Yuji’s view. you felt a fresh wave of panic, realizing that your shortly managed secret was about to be exposed.

“y/n?” Yuji’s voice was a mix of concern and confusion. he stepped further into the room, his eyes darting between you and Choso.

you tried to pull away from Choso, but his arms remained firm, offering you a comforting presence. “Yuji, it’s not what it looks like,” you started, your voice trembling.

Choso finally released you, turning to face Yuji with a serious expression. “Yuji, there’s something you need to know.”

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .

once Yuji got it out of his head that something was happening between you and Choso, explaining everything to him went faster than it did with Choso, mostly because you’d already laid everything bare once. however, the real challenge was dealing with the aftermath.

Yuji was pacing the living room floor, his agitation palpable as he marched back and forth. you and Choso sat on the couch, your eyes tracking Yuji’s restless movements.

“I’ll kill him,” Yuji growled, his fists clenched tightly at his sides. “I don’t care who he is or how big he is—I’ll kill him.” his voice was a low, dangerous rumble. for what felt like the umpteenth time, you shook your head. you weren’t sure how he’d react if he knew it was his own brother.

“no one’s killing anyone,” you said firmly, but it was clear your words were barely registering with him.

“I’ll help you kill him,” Choso added, his tone supportive but firm. you swatted his arm in a half-hearted attempt to get him to back off, earning a surprised “ow” from him.

Yuji’s fierce determination seemed to waver as he suddenly stopped his pacing and knelt in front of you, taking your hands in his. his face was a picture of concern. “what do you need? are you okay? do you want some soba? maybe some dessert?” his words tumbled out in a rush, and you couldn’t help but smile. leave it to Yuji to offer comfort through food.

“Yuji, I’m okay,” you said, patting his head in a soothing gesture, like a mother comforting a child. his eyes remained locked on yours. “I’m maybe a little sore, but I’m okay now.”

“so you don’t want soba?” Yuji asked again, tilting his head like a confused puppy. that adorable, earnest look made it impossible to say no.

“if you really want to get soba, just say so,” you teased. Choso chuckled beside you, having already figured out that Yuji’s need for food was more about his own hunger than anything else. “but if you’re ordering soba, you might as well get me some too.”

“yes!” Yuji exclaimed, his face lighting up with determination. in a flash, his phone was out, and he was placing an order without even asking you what you wanted—no doubt already selecting your favorite.

“listen, y/n,” Choso said softly from beside you, catching your attention. his eyes were still clouded with anger, but his features were gentle and caring. “don’t go hiding in your room again. please, for me.”

“and for me!” Yuji shouted from where he was focused on his phone, not looking up.

the intensity in Choso’s eyes was something else entirely—a fierce protectiveness that sent a shiver down your spine and made your heart race in your chest.

“don’t worry, Choso,” you said, trying to lighten the mood. “I promise I’ll get back to nagging you about your music.” your attempt at humor made Choso smile—a wide, genuine beam that seemed to light up his whole face. he nudged his shoulder against yours affectionately.

“fine,” he said, still smiling, “I’ll let you pick the music if it makes you feel better.”

“really?!”

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . taglist: @nighttwingg @sweetsformysoul @casualpoetrytaco @lvingd3adg0rl @haikomaiko @csolya @deathlypink

i hope i didn't miss anyone! tumblr has been finicky with my tags if you'd like to be added to the taglist for this WIP let me know! ♡ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .

[gleefullypolin]

Romancing Mister Bridgerton Book Spoilers for reference:

Everyone is getting up in their feels about how Colin is going to handle the LW reveal and I know the show has really ramped up the drama compared to the book with extra risk however I still think some of the book is relevant here. Stick with me, this gets lengthy...

We’ve all seen the rumors. Brothel smothel. I’m not here to soothe anyone’s mind or spoil the show. I’m not a brothel hater from part 1. I felt the scenes while not completely fun to watch, were part of the story. Colin is playing the role he feels society is asking him to play. He seeks out this part while still feeling this enormous loneliness from it (see journal entry). He also does not seek out intimacy, there is a reason he is with 2 women and not 1. It is easier to avoid intimacy if you do not have to be one on one. There is much to draw out of the brothel scene but I’m not here for that. Either way, we may see him return to one in part 2 and we may not. I am withholding judgment until we know how it plays out and what he does there. Colin will have a huge secret that he cannot share with anyone, he may not have many places he can go. So I’m just going to wait and see.

However, I also know that Show Colin is as Book Colin, Kind. He is forgiving. And lets look past the situation and go to where he will return to Pen AFTER he has resolved to continue his conversation regarding LW.

Colin will definitely be angry. Pen lied to him. And she wrote as LW after they were engaged and announced. This will definitely I am sure be a punch to the chest. I feel for Colin. This again is imperfect people making mistakes. Pen made one here.  In the book she made the same mistake:

“Don’t,” she said, her voice shaking.

“Don’t touch you?” His voice grew mocking, and Penelope was glad that she couldn’t see his face. “But you’re mine, aren’t you?”

“Not yet,” she warned him.

“Oh, but you are. You saw to that. It was rather clever timing, actually, waiting until our engagement ball to make your final announcement. You knew I didn’t want you to publish that last column. I forbade it! We agreed—”

“We never agreed!”

He ignored her outburst. “You waited until—”

“We never agreed,” Penelope cried out again, needing to make it clear that she had not broken her word. Whatever else she had done, she had not lied to him. Well, aside from keeping Whistledown a secret for nearly a dozen years, but he certainly hadn’t been alone in that deception. “And yes,” she admitted, because it didn’t seem right to start lying now, “I knew you wouldn’t jilt me. But I hoped—”

So yes the show is different here because he already knew she was LW at the engagement in the book and published after they agreed she wouldn't. But same premise in the show, she lied to him after the engagement. so work with me here, She knew that Colin would not leave her even after she posted her article. It was wrong. She knew it. But she did it anyway.

“You hoped what?” Colin asked after an interminable silence.

“I hoped that you would forgive me,” she whispered. “Or at least that you would understand. I always thought you were the sort of man who…”

“What sort of man?” he asked, this time after the barest hint of a pause.

“It’s my fault, really,” she said, sounding tired and sad. “I’ve put you on a pedestal. You’ve been so nice all these years. I suppose I thought you were incapable of anything else.”

In the book you start to see that Colin becomes concerned about Pen, this is where his concern comes in, he’s worried about her safety here. He wants her to allow Cressida to just have taken the fall. She is being reckless.

Colin looked away. He didn’t know why he did so; it wasn’t as if he could see her in the dark, anyway. But there was something about the tone of her voice that made him uneasy. She sounded vulnerable, tired. Wishful and heart-broken. She made him want to understand her, or at least to try, even though he knew she had made a terrible mistake. Every little catch in her voice put a damper on his fury. He was still angry, but somehow he’d lost the will to display it.

“You are going to be found out, you know,” he said, his voice low and controlled. “You have humiliated Cressida; she will be beyond furious, and she’s not going to rest until she unearths the real Lady Whistledown.”

Penelope moved away; he could hear her skirts rustling. “Cressida isn’t bright enough to figure me out, and besides, I’m not going to write any more columns, so there will be no opportunity for me to slip up and reveal something.” There was a beat of silence, and then she added, “You have my promise on that.”

“It’s too late,” he said.

“It’s not too late,” she protested. “No one knows! No one knows but you, and you’re so ashamed of me, I can’t bear it.”

“Oh, for the love of God, Penelope,” he snapped, “I’m not ashamed of you.”

And now we start to shift. The conversation of anger to shame.

Colin crossed the room and fumbled in a drawer for a candle and the means with which to light it. “I’m not ashamed of you,” he reiterated, “but I do think you’re acting foolishly.”

“You may be correct,” she said, “but I have to do what I think is right.”

“You’re not thinking,” he said dismissively, turning and looking at her face as he sparked a flame. “Forget, if you will—although I cannot—what will happen to your reputation if people find out who you really are. Forget that people will cut you, that they will talk about you behind your back.”

“Those people aren’t worth worrying about,” she said, her back ramrod straight.

And now we talk about society. We talk about what Pen has done throughout the years. What her words have meant across the ton.

“But forget all of that,” he continued. “You have spent the last decade insulting people. Offending them.”

“I have said lots of very nice things as well,” she protested, her dark eyes glistening with unshed tears.

“Of course you have, but those aren’t the people you are going to have to worry about. I’m talking about the angry ones, the insulted ones.” He strode forward and grabbed her by her upper arms. “Penelope,” he said urgently, “there will be people who want to hurt you.”

She doesn’t see that she has tried to hurt people. Pen is not a bad person. She has written the truth. Even when it has hurt people she doesn't see herself as a bad person, she is NOT and I mean to say this clearly for those that have not heard me, she is NOT a villain. But here is where it gets interesting for me and it will harken back for me to the show. To the MOST important conversation that Pen and Colin have ever had.

“What I want to know,” he asked, deliberately forcing the conversation back on topic so his mind wouldn’t wander down such dangerous roads, “is why you’re not jumping on the perfect alibi if the point is to remain anonymous.”

“Because remaining anonymous isn’t the point!” she fairly yelled.

“You want to be found out?” he asked, gaping at her in the candlelight.

“No, of course not,” she replied. “But this is my work. This is my life’s work. This is all I have to show for my life, and if I can’t take the credit for it, I’ll be damned if someone else will.”

Colin opened his mouth to offer a retort, but to his surprise, he had nothing to say. Life’s work. Penelope had a life’s work.

He did not.

So lets go back to Season 2. To this most important and intimate conversation that I think they have ever had together.

Pen: I am certain you will find your purpose one day. Everyone must eventually.

Colin: Have you found yours?

Pen: Of course not. But I imagine it to be something both animating and satisfying. The type of venture that speaks not to who I am but rather who I am to be. My purpose will challenge me to be brave and witty. My purpose will propel me far beyond the watchful glare of my mama. My purpose shall set me free.

Colin: What could possibly measure up to all that? Your dreams are grander than you let on, Pen.

Pen: Yes, they are mere fantasies, but I do believe we must allow ourselves those private moments so we may face reality armed with our reveries.

This is what we built up to, this right here. This is what we lead to in Season 3. And that will lead us to Book Colin. This is what they are giving us and it is glorious. And I love it. And I believe this is our New girl kiss and this is our Mirror and I am here and I will believe in this because this is our Polin!

She was amazing. He didn’t know how he hadn’t realized it before, when he’d already known that she was smart and lovely and witty and resourceful. But all those adjectives, and a whole host more he hadn’t yet thought of, did not add up to the true measure of her.

She was amazing.

And he was…Dear God above, he was jealous of her.

“I’ll go,” she said softly, turning and walking toward the door.

For a moment he didn’t react. His mind was still frozen, reeling with revelations. But when he saw her hand on the doorknob, he knew he could not let her go. Not this night, not ever.

“No,” he said hoarsely, closing the distance between them in three long strides. “No,” he said again, “I want you to stay.”

She looked up at him, her eyes two pools of confusion. “But you said—”

He cupped her face tenderly with his hands. “Forget what I said.”

And that was when he realized that Daphne had been right. His love hadn’t been a thunderbolt from the sky. It had started with a smile, a word, a teasing glance. Every second he had spent in her presence it had grown, until he’d reached this moment, and he suddenly knew.

He loved her.

He was still furious with her for publishing that last column, and he was bloody ashamed of himself that he was actually jealous of her for having found a life’s work and purpose, but even with all that, he loved her.

And if he let her walk out the door right now, he would never forgive himself.

This will lead to jealous Colin because suddenly the woman he is marrying has her purpose, he still does not, his new wife is successful, a writer, who he deems himself to be. This woman who compliments his writing suddenly has clout to do so. This is Book Colin coming home to us. But at the end of the chapter...let us remember, he would not let her walk out the door because even with all of that, the deception, the jealousy...he would not forgive himself if he let her walk out the door, because he LOVED her.

[joelsmochi]

Us Against the World

A/N: How easy is it to come back after a 4 month (unplanned) hiatus? Not easy. At all. Sorry for my absence darlings, a lot has been going on from moving to health issues to new jobs… It’s been so hectic that I am willing to admit that this piece of garbage was also being worked on over the entire 4 months I hadn’t posted. This was all I could conjure up, but I wanted to polish this off so I could move onto the next project, so I also apologize for how rushed this one kind of ends + it doesn’t have the same lighthearted tone as the first 2 parts. Regardless I hope you enjoy reading (don’t judge it too critically… I’m begging.) Also I think when I pasted this it got rid of my italicized and bolded words -.- (i am serious about italics)

warnings: 18+, kinda mean!jealous!insecure!joel, cclg/ddlg [attitude] dynamic, punishment (but it’s really a reward ;]), angst, more panty kink, some useless scenes, chance of getting caught, a little sadness and a bit cheesy, lazily proofread so expect grammar issues + typos!, i don’t wanna spoil so it ends there byeee (let me know if i missed any please!)

wc: 10k (will the length make up for how bad it is? no? ok >.<)

series masterlist | main masterlist

The bar was filled with laughter and short applause from people winning their games. It smelled slightly of stale alcohol and oak wood.

You had just walked in with Joel behind you. As you were taking in your surroundings, Joel had already seen a guy or two look you up and down. He chose not to say anything. They weren’t worth the trouble.

You both sat at the bar and ordered two beers though you weren’t necessarily trying to getting drunk tonight. You just wanted to keep your promise of making him jealous.

He didn’t think you’d actually go through with it, but when he saw your eyes go from your fresh drink to scanning the men around the bar he knew he was in for a real treat.

“You’re serious ‘bout this?” He rhetorically asked.

You only gave him part of a smile and a shrug to say and what if I am?

He half rolled his eyes and sipped his beer, immediately grimacing at its subpar taste.

“Fine. Do whateeeeever you want, little girl. Just like you always do,” he said. “Gon’ and dance for other guys. I don’t give a damn.”

You glared at him when he called you a little girl, keening a dark chuckle from him. He was poking the bear inside you, waiting for the moment you would choose to give up on your cunning idea.

You stood up out of spite and slowly walked over to a man roughly your age, clad in some lousy outfit that somehow made him stand out to you.

The teasing smirk Joel was wearing replaced itself with a scowl. You swore you felt him shooting daggers into your back as you whispered in the younger man’s ear.

“Wanna dance?”

The boy looked at you with excitement and surprise, bashfully nodding and following you when you pulled him next to the other dancing couples.

You pressed your back into his and looked everywhere except for where Joel was sitting, swaying your hips in sync with your dance partner and occasionally pressing back into his crotch gently.

Joel stared long and hard at the boy who was just using the curve of your ass to jerk off, yet when his eyes wandered to you, all he could do was think about using you like that, only with fewer clothes on.

The song ended and Joel thought it would be the end of your shenanigans; he watched as you whispered in the young man’s ear again, and once you pulled away he motioned for his friend to come over.

Another young man approached the front of you, and you gave him a flirty smile as your arms linked around his neck.

Joel was gritting his teeth so hard he was sure he heard one crack. He wanted to keep his cool, not give you the satisfaction, but watching you dance for men that were your age when he was already insecure about being thirteen years older than you pissed him off.

He knew you were just having fun, but fucking hell.

He hated seeing those idiots practically fucking hump you in the middle of the bar. They were feral and inadequate compared to Joel who knew they could never take care of you the way you needed to be taken care of.

Joel had about enough when the boy in front of you began slipping his thumbs underneath your baby tee and saw how it made you tense up so he reached in his wallet for cash to pay for the drinks. Then, he stomped over you and grabbed your arm, snatching your body from between the two men.

“Fuckin’ idiots,” Joel growled at them before pulling you behind him. He felt you resisting his grip after entering the parking lot so he grabbed your hips and picked you up. He sat you in the passenger seat then got in himself, driving back home without saying a word.

You knew you were in for it.

Once you two made it to his place you were trying to get Joel to speak to you. He just gave you a hard look and tossed you over his shoulder without further resistance; he carried you to his bedroom, sat down, and forced you to bend over in his lap.

“I’m sorry, Jo—ow!”

He had landed a firm slap across the back of your thigh and then broke the zipper on your shorts from yanking them down. Your hips ached from the waistband digging into your bones. You tried wiggling from his grasp causing him to grab a fistful of your hair and yank it back.

He smoothed a hand over the peaks of your ass for a few seconds, not wanting to hurt his precious girl.

But then he remembered how you left him without a care in the world just to spite him.

He gave you another spank that burned furiously against your flesh and forced a cry out of your throat.

“I’ll never do it again,” you pleaded, “I swear! Joel—“

Another smack.

“Fuckin’ damn right, you won’t,” he grunted, watching your ass color red. “You wanna fuck some dumb college boy, huh?”

You whimpered and waved your feet around desperately.

Smack! “Answer me when I ask you a question. Do you wanna fuck people your own fucking age?”

You shook your head frighteningly fast, waving your feet around more as if it would get him to release your hair but his grip only tightened. “No, Joel! I only want you—just you. Please, Joel, I’m sorry.”

He tugged at your panties, not too harshly, just gently enough to create a wedge between your cheeks. You were thankful he didn’t notice your eyes roll back and the soft moan that left you from the friction against your throbbing clit and asshole.

“My ol’ ass not enough for you? S’that it?” He whispered in your ear.

“Of course not—“

He popped you again from your words before pulling your panties up again, hating how you said it like it should have been obvious.

He watched you grind into the taut cloth, humping his knee. Although it was a subconscious movement from your body it didn’t stop him from letting out a humorous laugh.

“So fucking needy, ain’t ya?” He cooed, releasing the fabric and trailing a thick finger down the wet spot in your panties. “M’over here punishin’ you and you’re fucking my leg.”

“M’sorry,” you mumbled.

“You like it when I spank you?” He cooed in your ear; you nodded and he chuckled softly, tickling the hairs along your neck. “Yeah?”

“I like it when—… When you pull my panties,” you bashfully admit. “Feels good.”

He slowly let your hair go and cradled your jaw softly to keep your head up. With a smirk, he toyed with the linings of your panties. “You like when I hurt that pretty little ass a’yours?”

You hummed, taking one of his fingers in your mouth. He circled the pad of his middle finger around the rim of your clothed asshole, letting out a hum or a chuckle every time he felt it pulse.

“You’re gonna be good from now on, girl?”

“Yes, Joel,” you whispered against his fingers, spit drooling into his palm.

“Good,” he hummed softly, “good.”

“Can you,” you paused, unsure of why you were still acting shy. “Can you please pull my panties again?”

He happily obliged, starting a little gentler this time. He watched the shadow of your face contort with pleasure while you moaned softly, grinding your clit into his knee some more.

He watched one of your swollen pussy lips escape from the constriction so he pulled them some more to make the other lip appear.

You moaned at the thin fabric being engulfed by your cunt, clenching so more of your juices oozed out.

You felt his finger gently slip beneath the fabric to rub your wet entrance. You exhaled at his long finger slipping inside of you, collecting your slick before sliding it up to your asshole to circle it briefly.

He removed his finger and snuggled your panties up more. The friction stung your skin deliciously. He landed a smack on your ass cheek with the noise piercing your ears; you yelped and flinched, seductively laughing afterward.

Joel noticed the outline of his hand appearing along your flesh, red and bruised. He kneaded it with his palm and told you to bend over the edge of his bed. Once you were on your stomach again you felt him pull your shorts off of you completely, then your panties. His hands warmed over your thighs, grazing your ass and touching your lower back. He pressed his thumbs in slightly to massage you there for a few seconds before he slid his hands back down again to spread your ass.

You held your lip between your teeth throughout his touches, not wanting to make any noises in case he wanted you quiet.

The cool arousal leaving your body dripped down to your clit almost making you flinch from the temperature difference. Your pussy was clenching around nothing, seeking his fingers or his tongue or his cock — anything. His laugh was taunting and raspy, seeing how desperate you were for him.

"Such a needy girl, hmm?" He took a deep breath leaning into your flesh; his tongue scooped up your juices from your clit to your ass in one long, heavy lick. You gasped, surprised by the sudden contact. You were left disappointed when he didn’t continue lapping at you, but a rush of joy ran through you at the sound of his belt unbuckling behind you.

He heard your simpering little giggle, smiling at how cute it sounded but still popping your right ass cheek where you had begun to bruise. You hissed, chewing on your lip while he undressed from the waist down.

He teased his length along your slit, spreading your wetness upwards and slapping his fat tip roughly against the tight ring of muscle.

And it fucking hurt, more than you were expecting, but judging by Joel’s chuckle he already knew it would.

You understood his need to humiliate you. That was the whole reason for doing what you did. You wanted him to have his way with you just as you had a few nights ago.

But you hurt his feelings more than you expected to and much more than he would like to admit.

He slapped your puckering hole even harder to elicit a response from you, satisfied when you groaned his name.

“Joooel, that hurts.”

He lined up with your pussy, not quite touching you yet. His only response was, “Good,” before shoving his thick cock inside of you.

You screamed at him tearing your walls apart with cruelty, clenching furiously around him to try and adjust quicker.

But he wouldn’t let you.

He pulled out of you to watch your muscles flex for a second, then rammed back inside of you; he stayed as deep as he could.

After ensuring your stomach would remain glued to the bed his lips pressed a wet kiss to the rim of your ear. He listened to your soft cries, feeling your hips wriggle beneath him.

“You gonna be good for me?” He asked again.

You panted with annoyance and told him, “If you fucking ease up on me.”

It was an absentminded comment with consequences you’d be dealing with for days. Joel just clicked his tongue at you and dug his hips into your flesh deeper. His cockhead nudged your cervix serving up a mixture of pain and pleasure throughout your stomach.

He didn’t want to be too mean, however, so he pulled back and pushed his weight into your lower back from his palms. Your stomach being smooshed into the bed made the impacts of his thrusts feel deeper than they were.

Your precum enthusiastically coated his shaft, lubing your entrance as he rammed into you. Your voice was breathy as you spoke.

“Joel—th-that feels… That feels good.” Your eyelids hung low creating a blurry line of vision, head bobbing from his stuttering hips.

“You like getting fucked like a slut?” He spat to which you confirmed. “S’that why you act like one?”

You admitted your faults, not wanting him to ease up on you.

“You wanna fucking dance on someone again?”

You didn’t respond, too immersed in how good he was touching you.

He grunted, pulling out of you leaving strings of your precum mixed with his hanging; he flipped you around and wrapped a hand around the back of your neck, using his other hand to hold you at the base of your spine. He lifted you off of the bed, making you yelp.

Once he got into a comfortable position he removed his hand from your neck, showing you how strong he was being able to hold you up on his own. Your legs looped around his waist as he stood tall, your hands clinging to the broad peaks of his shoulders.

“Look at me,” he whispered; not wanting to be scolded again you lazily obliged. He laughed like a bully at your worn-out expression. “You’re so pretty like this, already fucked out like you can’t handle it.”

“Too much,” you complained against his lips in a short breath.

His hips snapped into yours, jolting your eyes wide open. “I don’t care. You wanted to act like a slut, so you’re gonna have to get fucked like one.”

“Joel—“

He shut you up by shoving his free fingers into your mouth, while the nails of his other hand dug into your back.

He didn’t want to hear your apologies anymore, or your complaints. He wanted you to shut up and take it, like a good fucking girl.

He saw the hindrance of innocence in your eyes that tried to beckon his forgiveness. He ignored it, meeting you with a punishing frown. The heavyweight stare riddled your nerves with anxiety — you didn’t want to disappoint him again.

He ravaged your attitude, breaking you down until he got his way with you just like you had all this time.

“You gonna be a good girl?” He asked again, shoving his fingers further back. You hummed into his hand and nodded, eyes as wide as saucers. He gasped when you twirled your tongue around his digits, slurping up the taste of his flesh. “You like that?”

“Mmhmmm.”

He experimented by pushing his fingers deeper, hitting the back of your throat; you gagged and coughed, but bit down on his knuckles so that he wouldn’t take them out.

His thrusts slowed because he was too focused on feeling your throat, something that felt entirely different against his fingers versus his cock.

Seeking his approval, you took this as an opportunity to fuck yourself on him. With your shaky fingers pressing into his shoulder blades you lifted you rocked your hips up and down, clenching around his length often.

“Look at’cha… You need to cum baby?” His fingers left your mouth indicating he wanted a verbal response.

“Yes, please,” you whimpered. “I’ll be good for you.”

“You’ll be good?”

“Yes. Fuck—yes. I’ll be so good for you, Joel. I promise. I’ll be a good girl for you.”

He moaned at your cunt gripping him, smiling at how you humped him. You couldn’t hide your deprivation from him any longer, but he wanted you to earn it.

“Put your fingers in your mouth,” he instructed, smirking when you did so immediately. He gripped your ass with both of his wide hands to steady you. “Yeah, there you go. S’pretty like this…”

Your hair was glued to the sweat on your face and your eyes were low with a wave of tears waiting to spill onto your cheeks. Your teeth waned behind your red lips as you gurgled from choking on your saliva.

“You’re so pretty for me, princess,” he cooed; despite the softness in his voice, his tone was still suggestive of his anger.

He was on the verge of forgiving you, but he still wasn’t quite there yet.

Your arms and core were growing weaker the harder you worked your body on his, but you were so determined to cum — and to do it on his command.

“Tell me how pretty you are,” he said with a devilish grin widening.

You were a little lost — what exactly did he want?

“Hmm?” You hummed, unintentionally slowing down.

“Tell me… How pretty you are,” he said again.

“Um…” Your mind was blank, God, Joel could really fuck you stupid, couldn’t he? “I’m—I’m so pretty,” you whispered.

You couldn’t think of what to say.

Maybe if I compliment myself the way Joel does…

“You like how pretty I am for you?” You asked. “All fucked out from your cock?”

His eyes rolled shut as he let out an obscenely long groan.

He liked that, you thought.

“I look so pretty with your cock stretching me out, don’t I? Hmm, yes, fuck—ah! You make me so pretty when you let me fuck myself on you, Joel—gah! Do you—fuck. Do you wanna see how pretty I am when I cum like this?”

His eyes shot open at the proposal, the only words his mind was able to compute being, “Yes, princess. Yes, yes, cum for me—mnh, God. You feel so fucking good.”

His words were encouraging enough to keep you going, long enough to light that fire that tickled you red.

“Show me how fuckin’ pretty you look when you cum for me, baby.”

Your ass stung from him squeezing where his punishment landed, adding fuel to your rising orgasm.

He saw it spread across your precious body: your eyes wavering between open and close, your mouth pouting with his name leaving your tight throat, your nipples peaking, goosebumps flaring across your entire body.

You were flushed red and heaving and Joel couldn’t look away. You looked so ethereal, wrapping your fluttering pussy around the base of his dick and grinding in circular motions.

Pins and needles poked your arms from holding your weight, but the climax felt too good to let up so soon. You were sensitive, knotty, and engulfed in the stillness you were finally able to have.

“My pretty girl,” Joel whispered sweetly.

You opened your lazy eyes, giving him a soft smile. “Show me how pretty you are when you cum,” you said against his lips.

He took a moment to catch his breath before propping his arms underneath your thighs one by one. Your body thanked you for the relief.

Your cunt squelched cum onto his balls while the air thickened with the aroma of sex and sweat.

So sleepy, you felt as he continued to drive his hips into you, but he was so handsome in the low light of the moon. You felt your soul tie to his own, blending your orgasm into admiration for the man.

This was anything but the casual agreement you two had come to weeks ago, but fuck was it well worth it. His jealousy was a sign of a weakness he only possessed when it came to you.

“I’m gonna cum,” he whispered with need. You wrapped your hands around his jawline and pressed his lips against yours.

The slip of your tongue against his was nasty. It was fucking filthy. You licked each other anywhere you could reach, coating one another in saliva as if to mark your territories.

Joel whimpered against your lips, admitting his arrival in the middle of the kiss. “I’m cumming. I’m cumming. I—…”

His mouth parted as he brought you impossibly close to his body, and he felt a knee nearly give out from the intensity of his orgasm. He drifted his body to the floor so he could sit on his knees, not wanting to drop you.

His thrusts were small and deep as he continued ruining your sore walls with his ropes of cum.

Still entangled in a series of kisses, they simmered to a savory pace. You tasted each other and relished in the filthy mix of bodily fluids.

You’d never been so sweaty from sex in your life yet it felt so fucking amazing.

He pumped you so full of cum that even with his cock plugging you a little bit of it managed to leak out. You both smiled at the feeling and broke away from each other's lips.

With your head tossed back on the edge of his bed and his head resting on your chest, you just sat there in silence.

His hands gloss over your back and your fingers stroking the wet curls on his head. You wanted to stay here forever, clinging to him like a bear to a tree.

He pressed a kiss onto your collarbone before raising his head to look at you.

“You hungry?” He asked.

“Mm-hmm,” you moaned shut-eyed, obviously very tired from sex. He grunted from standing up again and laid you in the cold bed before grabbing your panties and slipping them back up your legs. You finished it for him, making sure they were snug against your entrance to keep the cum from spilling out too much.

“I’ll go get some takeout, princess.”

You hummed with a small smile at his new nickname for you, feeling him press a kiss to your temple before you fell into a deep slumber.

“What are you doin’?” Joel yawned as he entered the kitchen.

“I am making us eggs and only eggs because you have a poor selection of breakfast foods.”

He snickered, closing the space between you and wrapping his warm arms around your waist. “Well, thank you, princess,” he mumbled against the curve of your neck.

His fingers slipped beneath the shirt you borrowed from him and found the hem of your panties. You didn’t allow his hands to distract you as you spread the fluffy eggs out over two plates.

“I guess this…” His fingers slipped inside of your partially wet cunt, curling just the way you like. “…is my breakfast.”

You shivered as goosebumps poked your skin from the motion of his hand, and you smirked to yourself when his other hand tugged at your panties. Once they hit the ground he bent you over slightly to pull his cock out, gliding it along your slit to tease you. You turned the stove off and gripped the counter, careful to not burn yourself.

Not even a moment later you felt his velvety cock smack against the peak of your ass, and you moaned at how warm he felt against your cold flesh.

“Joel,” you exhaled. “You’re fucking ruining me.”

“Y’say it like it’s a bad thing,” he grunted whilst sliding inside of you.

You moaned, eyes closing softly. “Not at all.”

He rolled his hips slowly, careful not to break you any more than he did just the night before. His hot breath filled your ears with decadent compliments about how good you were for him and how much he wanted to show his appreciation.

Joel fought a moan every time he saw your eyelashes flutter shut and heard you sharply inhale between gritted teeth. His confession of admiration seemed to hold more weight than before. That knot inside of you gushes at his rasps of affection, pushing you toward the edge.

You focused on how he felt, every little thing he was doing: his left hand held you steady at your hip while his right stroked your hair calmly as if you were his new pet kitten. His hips curled into the shape of you as if his body was planting kisses anywhere you managed to still be bruised from his punishments. His thighs trembled against the back of your stiff legs, urging you to let go whenever you were ready, not quite rushing you.

His voice was staggering and cracking, the words I love you straining against his throat from him suffocating it with praises instead.

You knew all of the you’re doing so good f’me’s and you sound so beautiful’s and you look so pretty with my cock inside of you’s were just invulnerably hidden I love you’s, but it didn’t bother you.

You understood what he truly meant and that’s all you needed for now.

His lovely teeth nibbled into the valley of your ear earning a giggle from you; you were so close—so fucking close. You needed more.

You tried rubbing your swollen and throbbing clit yourself but it wasn’t enough. Joel’s need to take care of you radiated from the heat of his body and you craved more of his touch; you moved his hand from your hip to your stiff bud, guiding his fingers to perform the way you sought.

His fingers were strong and thick and just what you needed to overflow, clawing at his bicep, leaning your head back to rest upon his shoulder.

It felt so good to be held by him. A longing that burrowed itself into your soul resurfaced. Ready to be fulfilled by him.

His words turned into simpering little mewls of yes’s and cum for me’s as you clenched around him.

He knew you were just barely there and he was adamant on not changing his pace or patterns if it meant he could watch you crumble.

Joel’s right hand left your hair and held your agape jaw to keep your head from bobbing too much after one of your legs buckled and your grip around his muscles tightened. He increased the force of his thrusts emphasizing the sound of his hips clapping against your heated skin.

His body was aching from the lack of rest but every moan you let out was so soft and subtle that it motivated him to continue.

Your breathing was shallow, filled with whimpers since he wouldn’t ease up on your sore cunt, but you loved it. Your body craved the sin of secrecy that had Joel’s name written all over it.

All the sneaking around, lying, and pretending you two are nothing more than long-time neighbors made all of this worth it. The games. Chasing each other. Waiting days—if not weeks just for a kiss was the thrill of it all.

Deep down you knew it couldn’t last forever; it’d either have to come out or come to an end. But couldn’t you live in the fantasy just for a little while,

moaning Joel’s name a little longer,

feeling the thick cum etched between your bodies,

feeling him stiffen up or jolt whenever your breath hit his sensitive ears,

laughing every time he accidentally slipped out,

getting so carried away that you couldn’t hear anything else…

…Like the garage door opening.

“Oh! Shit!”

You and Joel immediately pulled away, shocked by the sudden boom of Tommy’s voice; with trembling legs, you struggled your underwear back up while Joel tried to tuck in what refused to be hidden.

“Sorry, guys, I didn’t…” Tommy’s voice trailed off as he looked over and realized it was… You?

Wearing one of Joel’s big t-shirts and some rainbow-striped socks, Tommy said your name as if he couldn’t believe it was you. If you didn’t know any better you’d say he was kind of checking you out.

“Jesus, Tommy. Quit lookin’ at her like that,” Joel complained while ushering Tommy into the next room.

“Like what?”

“Like she’s a piece of meat.” Joel briefly looked back at you with those puppy eyes of his and asked if you were okay. You could only give him a tense nod in response.

You exhaled a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding in before looking at the plate of now-cold eggs.

Embarrassed wasn’t even the word. Distress curled around every crevice in the pit of your stomach making you feel nauseous.

You inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly, regaining enough composure to grab two forks from the utensils drawer and take them out to the living room where the two men sat and spoke.

“Here you go, Tommy,” you said sheepishly while trying to pretend that you weren’t avoiding eye contact. Turning to Joel you said, “I’m gonna head home.”

“You don’t have to leave ‘cus I’m here,” Tommy said, his apologetic tone emphasizing his indication. “I didn’t mean to impose or nothin’, it was… Just a surprise.”

“I gotta go shower and change my clothes anyways, so, uh…”

“Here, I’ll go help you get your things. I’ll be right back Tommy,” Joel said. You both walked up to Joel’s cluttered room where he shut the door softly and then apologized. “I forgot we picked up a job for today,” he explained.

“Well, I have been told I’m a pretty good distraction,” you teased, fumbling with last night’s clothes. He chuckled and watched as you got dressed, asking himself how it got to this point. “I probably can’t do anything until Sunday. My dad wants to take me to this new movie tomorrow, and then some event thingy Saturday.”

“Sunday, that’s…” Joel’s voice trailed off while he pretended to think about something.

You scoffed and narrowed your eyes at him for a moment before hitting his arm with his t-shirt. He caught hold of it and used it to bring you closer, the grin of a jester playing on his face.

“I’m kiddin’, princess. I know it’s your birthday,” he cooed against your lips. His kiss embraced your laughter and made him smile again, but this time much more humbly. “I got you a present—but if I give it t’ya now I’ll be empty-handed in two days.”

You cocked an eyebrow up and stared at his lips causing him to vapidly blush. “You won’t be empty-handed,” you whispered. You held his hand in yours and brought it next to your face.

“Oh?”

“Mmhmm, ‘cus I’ll make sure to keep both’a your hands busy,” you teased.

He watched carefully as you brought his index finger to your drooling mouth and took it in slowly. You somewhat forced his finger down your throat pretending it was his cock. You choked on the thick digit and pouted at him with your eyes.

He gasped at the textures of your narrow throat, frowning in a way that let you you’ve ignited something in him. He fought his moans harder than he ever needed to before, staring at you gag and slurp and slobber around his finger.

You curled your tongue against the webbing of his fingers and licked all of the excess spit up into your mouth with a swift bob of your head.

This made him bite his lip to shut himself up; you decided to not bully the poor man any longer and released his hand, smirking.

“You’re gonna regret that Sunday, princess. I’ll tell you that right now,” he threatened, however, his tone was full of defeat and his voice sounded higher from the strain of silencing moans.

“What are ya gonna do about it, old man?” You teased before walking out of his room.

Your birthday was more fun than you were expecting, more than enough people showed up (granted more than half of them were your dad’s friends), and you spent more time being the photographer than the center of attention.

Joel and Tommy showed up fashionably late (you’ve chosen to believe Joel’s watch is set two hours back). Meanwhile, their arrival earned a few giggles and stares from your high school friends.

They tried to talk to you about how much hotter Joel and Tommy had gotten while you pretended not to feel the pang of jealousy in your chest whenever they gawked at Joel a little too long.

They asked if you two had hooked up since being back and the only lie you managed to conjure was, “Joel’s either always at work or with my dad, so… I haven’t really been able to try.”

“Wait, does your dad know you two used to hook up?” One of your friends, Bri asked.

Right now you were really regretting telling all those lies…

“No,” you said almost too enthusiastically, “and I plan on keepin’ it that way. Not worth the trouble.”

“Well, if Joel’s not worth the trouble to you then you wouldn’t mind if I gave it a shot, would ya?”

You resisted rolling your eyes, wavering the drink in your hand around and mumbling, “Go ahead.”

“Hey,” another friend said after tapping you on your extended arm, “there’s plenty of fish in the sea. Joel’s just one guy.” She must have noticed the defeat in your eyes.

Maybe to you, you thought.

Before you could respond Bri was sitting back down at your patio table with an embarrassed pout on her face, and for some reason, you were surprised rather than happy (okay, you were a little happy).

“What happened?” You asked.

“He said he’s seeing someone else,” she scoffed. “Do you know if he even likes blondes? Because I can always dye my hair darker.”

You chuckled, “I don’t think he has a preference.”

The rest of them changed subjects so when your eyes went searching for Joel, you found him standing next to your dad at the grill where he was already looking at you wearing a smile. You smiled at him and then turned your focus back to your friends for the remainder of the afternoon.

Once your friends had left for the night and your dad ended up in a game of dice with his buddies, you realized you needed some time to decompress from all the socializing.

Your dad insisted on cleaning up for you the way you always did for him, so you made your way upstairs intending to lie down for a few minutes.

With your back facing the door as you flipped through a magazine Joel was able to sneak into your room; it was the lock clicking that scared you.

“Jesus fucking Christ! Joel!” You gasped while throwing your magazine at him.

He chuckled hoarsely and leaned against the wall with the doorknob sticking into his back.

“Could at least make a little more noise when you’re following me!”

“The more noise we make the quicker we get caught,” he spoke under his breath.

Your eyes were wide as you took the sight of him in; his skin was beautifully tanned from the Texas sun, his biceps straining against his almost too-small t-shirt, and his jeans hung a little lower than usual.

His glossy eyes lingered on yours as he watched you stand up and check him out. He saw the fear on your face morph into lust, increasing as you walked towards him.

“What’chu nervous for?” He teased after watching your hand fidget with your belly button ring.

You barely heard him, thoughts immersing into thoughts of all the things you wanted him to do to you. “Hmm?”

Even as you got closer to him your eyes couldn’t leave the imprints of his muscles effortlessly flexing against his shirt.

“You play with your piercing every time you get nervous,” he told you after you pressed your body against his.

Ignoring his statement, you stared at the shadow of his collarbone and the light layer of hair coating his chest.

“Look at me,” he cooed, yet you only did it for a second, fueling that same attitude he had at the bar.

He tapped underneath your chin more roughly than you liked, almost like a smack.

But when you looked at his face again you saw that darkness you knew you wanted it like that night again, despite your attempts at hiding it.

Joel could always see past your bullshit.

“You like when I’m mean to you, girl?” He asked. You opened your mouth, ready to omit, but he held a warning finger up. “Don’t. Do not lie to me.”

You swallowed the dryness in your mouth and batted your eyes at him before naively nodding your head. “Yeah,” you said. “I didn’t peg you for the mean type.”

His eyebrows raised in amusement, a sly smile tugging at his lips. “No? But you like it?”

“I fucking love it,” you whispered against his wet lips.

You didn’t need to decompress. You needed to unwind.

“I bet you did, rubbing that needy little pussy all over my leg when I was bruising you up all sweet and blue,” he bullied.

Your eyes fluttered shut as your breath left your body, remembering how good it felt for him to punish you. When you looked at him again you saw an egotistical smirk had plastered itself onto his face.

“Problem s’that you didn’t disobey me tonight, so how could I possibly punish you when you were being such a sweetheart? Sayin’ thank you after opening every one of your gifts and offerin’ to help out.“ His tone was sadistic, taunting…

“Well, it is my birthday…” You said grinning. A heat burned through the pit of your stomach and spilled into your panties. “…and no one’s given me my birthday spankings yet.”

He remained quiet opting to run his hands up your arms until they cradled your face, thumbs stroking your lips and cheeks.

“You gonna count ‘em for me?” He whispered without breaking eye contact.

You smirked and kissed him tenderly. “Yes, sir.”

He pointed at your bed where you went to bend over the edge for him.

His boots softly knocked against the hardwood floor as he paced behind you, pondering in his head how he wanted to proceed.

Despite the curiosity that made you want to turn around and ask him questions, you stayed still and quiet until he gave you your first instruction.

“Take your shorts off.”

You reached for the button and zipper before pushing the denim down until it met your knees on the floor. Your hips wiggling more than necessary.

“No panties?” He said amusedly. You heard his body move behind you so that he became eye level with your ass. “You must’a really wanted that present from me tonight, huh?”

You nodded your head and reached under your stomach, using both hands to spread yourself for him. “I’ve been touching myself all weekend thinking about it.”

Joel stifled a moan at the sight of the creamy precum that revealed itself between your swollen lips.

You flinched and yelped at the sudden feeling of his middle finger spreading your cum around your tight hole making him smile.

“Rub your clit f’me, baby,” he rasped.

Licking your lips you rested your head down on the bed before listening to him; your ring and middle fingers rubbed perfect loops on your bud while your pinkie finger kept your cunt spread for his eyes.

He glanced at your ass which was still marked from his abuse nights prior.

“My God, girl… These my bruises?” He asked wanting to hear your submission.

“No one else I’d let do this to me,” you breathed out.

His calloused hands gripped and massaged your butt for a few quiet moments until a firm smack landed on your left cheek.

His touch left your body as he anticipated a verbal response from you but it took too long for you to compose yourself.

You were just so fucking eager for his fingers to dance around your cunt that you made the mistake of forgetting the arrangement that occurred only two minutes prior.

“I don’t hear you countin’, girl,” he warned.

“Shit,” you whispered, “sorry—“

He interrupted you with another smack, only this one landed on your spread lips.

“Ah!” You yelped, quickly burying your face into your sheets. It stung ruthlessly. “One… And two…”

You couldn’t see it, but you felt the mean smirk on his face burning into the back of your skull. “Take too long t’answer me again… You get the rest on that pretty little pussy a’yours. Understand?”

Your knees braced into the floor as you nodded. “Yes, I understand, Joel.”

“Mm,” he hummed grumpily. “Good.”

Smack.

“Three,” you hissed.

Smack.

“Four…”

Smack!

The pain was starting to get to you in the best way possible.

You knew that for the next week anytime you would sit down on your bruised cheeks you’d remember how Joel took care of you in the way you wanted him to.

One spanking in exchange for one orgasm — that’s how you saw it anyway. He wasn’t into unnecessary punishment, but he went into this knowing he’d find a way to make it worth your while however you saw fit.

Joel only dominated you because you dominated him in every other aspect. When it came to sex he lived to serve you. So if 23 spankings is what you wanted, well then… What kind of man would he be to deny you of that?

By the end of the torture, you didn’t even want to think about sitting down for the next two weeks.

Joel saw your reflection in the mirror hanging from your closet, watching those red and puffy lips curl into a beautiful smile.

“Dunno how much longer we got, girl,” Joel grunted as he stood up. “Best make it quick.”

Your eyes softly close and you bite your lip, giggling and moaning at how his southern drawl sounded especially sexy tonight. He noticed how lazily you were acting and laughed.

“You already fucked stupid?” He said with a small smile.

You turned onto your back, hissing at the pressure on your ass but giggling again at his annoyed tone and pursed lips. “Hmm… Maybe.”

Joel opened his mouth to say something but you raised your feet to rub against the growing bulge in his worn jeans. He watched your bottom lip get stuck between your rows of teeth, shining a drunken smile at him.

“You wanna play around, girl?” He flirted, a crooked show of his grin sending chills throughout your body.

“Wanna feel you, deep…” You let out a strained moan, cunt gripping so tight around nothing your precum slid out.

His fingers slid to the bulky strap of his belt and pulled it from his waist so fast it ended with a snap.

“So pretty like this…” He whispered as he sprung his cock free from its restraints.

Your face warmed with blush and your nipples stiffened at the sight of his dick: so hard it only slightly curved to the right, with a red hot angry tip beaming with a thick droplet of precum.

He leveled with your body and slid into you slowly, not wanting to risk making you moan louder than the walls could handle.

“Need you to be quiet for me, baby,” he whispered, “can ya do that f’me?”

Your eyes were shut, lips still between your teeth as you hummed and mewled. You nodded, looping his curls around the webs of your fingers and legs around his soft waist.

A breathy grunt escaped his mouth. His breath hit just below your ear making your skin prickle with goosebumps.

As his hips softly crashed into yours you felt yourself tensing at the sound of people outside and downstairs. You’d managed to forget your father’s friends were still here, and any one of them could walk upstairs to use the restroom only to hear the soft squeak of your bed frame—your father could.

Joel was just so easy to get lost in. His scent, his pretty smile, his touch… The way his tongue lapped at your neck like a cat would milk. How his hands cradled your waist and thighs. When he’d move his head up just for a moment to look into your heavy eyes.

God, you were a fucking mess.

His cock slid effortlessly against your needy walls, pressing deeply into that perfect spot at an angle you’d never felt before. And fucking hell, you wanted to say his name shamelessly. Scream it and plaster it onto the fucking walls if you could.

You did everything in your power to keep quiet, struggling from how your bruised ass stung even more every time his body crashed into you.

Joel bit the meat on your shoulder to shut himself up. His body yearning to fill you up with his precious seed was almost distracting. Almost.

“Doin’ so good f’me, girl,” he whispered into your chest, the pace increasing. “Might need t’cum.”

“Joel,” you whined, not needing anything more. Your fingers tightened in his hair and your head was thrown back into the mess of your blankets.

The knot in your tummy twisted, curling tightly around itself. You let out too loud of a breath that turned into a moan, but nothing too incriminating.

“Do not make me have to pull out and stop, now,” he rasped before taking two fingers and shoving them into your desperately open mouth.

You choked at the surprise but settled down and bit at his knuckles.

His face pressed into one of your tits as another desperate attempt to keep quiet, but all he had to do was feel you cumming to finish himself. Joel’s cock was sensitive and overwhelmed, and despite his best efforts to keep going for the sake of satisfying you he just couldn’t fucking take it.

You pouted and tried to pull him back in after he slipped from inside you to no avail.

“M’sorry, princess,” he huffed, annoyed with himself. “Can’t handle you sometimes.”

You rolled your eyes but saw the disappointment on his face as he buckled his pants back up.

“Just sneak over tonight,” you flirted, “suck me dry.”

He smirked at your coy smile and slid your bottoms back onto your hips. “I’ll do what I can,” he promised.

“Don’t leave me hangin’, cowboy.”

It had been about a week since your birthday, and Joel did indeed sneak over to give you your well-deserved orgasm, give or take three more.

And his real birthday present was a small Eiffel Tower; he had remembered how you’d always wanted to visit Paris. While he wasn’t the most superstitious or spiritual man he said he’d hope it would bring you good luck with traveling for fashion.

Your dad on the other hand had been quite distant since that night and you wondered if he saw or maybe even heard something that gave your little secret away. Your dirty lies. Had they finally caught up to you?

Or were you just overthinking things? Maybe he’s just been moody or tired or in hermit mode. It could have been lots of things, right?

Needless to say, it was a shock when he called you downstairs as soon as you were done with your shower.

“Hey Dad, what’s up?” You asked as you entered the kitchen.

“You tell me,” he grumbled, eyeing you as you sat down.

“Ummm, the apocalypse is happening and flesh-eating monsters are taking over,” you answered sarcastically. When his facial expression didn’t even change in the slightest you stopped joking. “Uh, I…don’t know…”

“Whose shirt is this?”

A dull brown and red flannel was tossed onto the island and you just knew your face gave you away.

“Dad—“

“Don’t lie to me either,” he said between gritted teeth.

Your father already knew it was Joel’s, you knew that. But he always gave you the opportunity to take accountability for your actions. Not like it made him less mad, it just softened the blow.

“Where did you find it?” You asked, voice shaking.

“Yesterday,” he said after some hesitation, “you were at work for your last day. I was doin’ your laundry and there it was, as plain as day.”

You shut your eyes, a tear of embarrassment rolling down your cheek that you wiped away swiftly. “It’s Joel’s.”

“Why is it here?”

You looked at him with eyes that begged for him to not ask, but his face was hardened.

“Because Joel was here,” you reluctantly answered.

“When.”

“A… A few times.”

“Why?!”

The tension was suffocating; you figured you were already caught so you may as well admit to everything—well, not everything if you could help it.

“Because we’ve been seeing each other,” you said softly, leaning your forehead onto your hand. “Since I got back, we’ve been seeing each other. Sometimes I go there, sometimes he comes here.”

“Since you got back?”

You nodded and faced him again, fighting your tears. It wasn’t that you were sad or worried about what your dad may have done, you just wished you were more honest from the start.

“Yeah,” you answered. “I made the first move. I was trying to get over my boyfriend and… He was there… And it just sort of happened.“

“S’good thing you’re going back to New York soon.”

Your heart sank—had your dad forgotten when you said you were thinking of staying in Austin to stay close? Not just for Joel, but everybody. Your family, your friends, you wanted to be near when Sarah graduated. You missed life in Texas, too much to go back to New York State so soon.

“I—I told you I wanted to stay, that I was thinking of staying close,” you rambled, “did you forget?”

“No, I didn’t forget. You’re not allowed to see him anymore. You in New York makes sure that happens.”

“Wh—not allowed?!” You almost laughed. “I’m twenty-five, I make my own decisions.”

“He’s too old for you,” he said.

You scoffed, standing up. “I’m not some mentally incompetent eighteen-year-old, Dad. I’m a grown woman dating a grown man!”

“Not here! Not when you’re living in my house.”

“Well, then I will just fucking move out!”

You ignored his protests and calls for you, feeling like a grounded teenager all over again.

What you and Joel had was fickle, you knew that. You weren’t stupid. It wasn’t built on a foundation, it was hardly dating even though you wanted it to be more.

Your dad would come around someday. Hell, maybe he would have already had you been honest from the start.

“Hey, Sarah, is your dad home?” You stiffly asked.

She frowned at your puffy eyes and red nose, looking over her shoulder before saying, “Uh, n—no, but he’s just runnin’ a bit late from work. Why don’t you come in and wait for him? He should be back any minute.”

“No, that’s okay. I don’t wanna impose. Just tell him to call me when he gets some free time, please?”

“You sure?”

You nodded, not necessarily trusting your voice anymore with how you were choking up from your tears.

Sarah’s shoulders dropped and she insisted you come in. “Come on, it’s starting to rain.”

After a moment of hesitation, you followed her inside after picking your bag up, wiping your nose, and clearing your throat.

Sarah was kind enough to bring you a glass of water, setting it on the coffee table and sitting down a couple of cushions away.

“Are you breaking up with my dad or something?” She asked after a minute or two.

“What?”

“He told me a couple days ago, but I already figured because I heard him talking to you on the phone a while ago. Something about missing you,” she explained.

“I’m sorry, Sarah, I…” You sighed and looked at your hands. “I wish I was there to tell you.”

“No, that’s okay! I think it’s kinda cool. A little weird, but cool.” She assured. “But are you? Breaking up with him, I mean.”

“No, well at least I hope not,” you chuckled softly. “My father isn’t a very forgiving man.”

“He just wants to protect you. My dad said that’s just what fathers do. I’m sure he’ll come around someday.”

“Thanks, Sarah.”

The lock clicks soon followed by the door creaking open; you and Sarah watch as Joel walks in with empty hands before he notices you sitting on his couch. A look of worry spread across his face.

“Everything alright?” He asked.

“Yeah!” Sarah chirped while standing up. “She just came by to see us.” Sarah walked into the kitchen to give you some privacy.

Joel sat next to you and gestured at the ground. “Why do you have a bag?”

“Oh, I’m just going to stay with a friend for a few days,” you said.

He nodded reluctantly, sensing your nervousness. “Your dad find out?”

A wave of sadness took over you again, but you managed your tears away better this time. You only offered a nod, nails picking at a loose thread on your jeans.

“Why don’t you stay the night? I was gonna make steak for dinner.”

“I—I don’t wanna… Impose.”

He chuckled. “What d’you mean impose? You’re my girlfriend.”

Letting out a surprised sound, you frowned and looked around the room incredulously while Joel just stared at you anxiously.

“Girlfriend?”

He shrugged, leaning his elbows onto his knees. “Well. You are my girlfriend, right?”

“You never asked,” you laughed.

His eyes were a mix of amusement and surprise. “My apologies, darlin’. Forgive me for not having been gentleman enough.” He takes your hand earning a laugh from you. “Will you be my girlfriend?”

“You’re so sappy,” you teased before giving him a peck on the cheek. “I would love to be your girlfriend.”

“I dunno what I’m gon’ do,” you said softly.

You and Joel had been in bed for a couple of hours just talking about everything, with Sarah sound asleep in her room; the three of you had watched one of Joel’s favorite movies and Sarah gave him a fixed watch.

You shifted up to rest on your elbow and looked down at him. “How much longer you think he’ll be mad?”

“I don’t know, princess,” he said after sucking his teeth. “He doesn’t tend to hold grudges but I know he’s more mad at me. F’it’s any consolation.”

You let out a weak chuckle and leaned down to kiss him. His hand cupped your jaw just firm enough to keep you still. Your lips tangled with his, fingers reaching up to clasp his curls; he climbed on top of you carefully, humming on the tip of your tongue.

He began to grind and hump eliciting moans from you both while his right hand got to work beneath your shirt, thumbing the nipple just enough to tickle you.

Your hand snaked between your bodies to find the opening of his boxers; you pulled his velvety cock out and pumped it gently whilst not bothering to touch yourself as your panties were already pooling.

Your heart ached with so much pain and at the same time so much love. You needed Joel. In every fucking way possible for as long as you’d be blessed to have him.

His lips broke free from yours to greet your neck, then your collarbone, before planting around your now exposed breast.

You exhaled at his warm tongue swirling saliva around your peaked bud, sending waves of shivers down your arching spine.

“Joel,” you whispered leaning into his gentle touch.

With a throbbing clit and a slippery cunt you felt weak beneath him. You were enamored with pleasure that it overtook your body. You couldn’t control your breathing or your trembling. Hand awkwardly shifting around his shaft.

He took your other nipple into his hot mouth, shirt bunched around your arching neck. With daunting hands he traced the hem of your panties, pulling at them carefully.

He sat on his knees to undress your legs, adjusting so his cock lined up with your entrance. He slid in slowly, knowing the lack of foreplay could ruin this.

But it didn’t.

Your walls burned with a stretch so delicious it set your skin on fire. It took everything in you to not moan as loudly as your body begged to.

A soft gasp only leaving your lips, your head lolling back, eyes clenching shut… Yeah. Joel knew how to fucking work you.

Your walls clung to him fearing even just a moment of loss. His eyes burned into your feverish skin, watching the rise and fall of your chest and stomach as you took in deep breaths.

“You feel so good,” he whispered into your collarbone, placing a sloppy kiss on it afterward. “I lo—“

A pause in his voice made your eyes fly open; his hips stuttered the same way his voice did signaling something was wrong.

Joel’s heart punched against yours, but he kept grinding into you like he hadn’t spoken at all. Oh, but all the worry was written in his eyes.

“Joel?” You softly asked between moans.

He took in the softness of your hands cradling his uneven stubble. He hummed and kissed the meat of your palm before biting it gently.

You fought the nerves in your voice. Everything inside your body screamed that this was wrong, yet as you looked into his eyes your heart swelled with admiration for the man that helped you find pieces of yourself again.

“I love you too,” you finally said.

He stopped moving his body against yours and he just stared at you. He was conflicted with whether or not you said that only because he almost did.

But when you said it again and tightened your legs around his waist to affirm it he gave you a gentle kiss, finding his tongue bumping into yours along the way. Pulling back, Joel finished his sentence.

“I love you.”

“You love me?” You teased.

But his face remained serious, eyes boring into yours.

After a few more silent seconds Joel laid his head into the curve of your neck and began riding into you again. Hips rolling into you, breath hitting your neck, and hands gripping the sheets.

Your body was hot as molten lava, melting into the mattress. Joel felt so safe, so beautifully safe. Safe enough to say, “I love you,” in his ear over and over again, his voice overlapping yours with the same words.

He took care of you that night. Letting you immerse yourself into enjoying every damn thing he gave you. His grunts staggered and turned into short hisses of pain as you bit into his shoulder to keep quiet. That’s what fueled him: the pain of your undying desire.

He reached deeper inside of you than he ever dared to before, reaching reaching reaching to find your soul and bear all commitment to it. To serve you, as his gravelly voice whispered, “I fucking live for you.”

“I love you, Joel,” you responded. “It’s you and me. Forever. Us against the world.” A tear made its way from your eye to his forehead.

He kissed the trail the tear left and repeated you. “Us against the world.”

It was just sex talk — usually is, but Joel always knew what words would just make you fucking cum. Those words dripped from his lips like a poisonous honey for you to lap up and savor.

He wanted you cumming all over his sheets cock to fucking mean something. To permeate his love anywhere it could stain.

Joel had started to cum just a second before you did, forcing him to let out a moan. You held his head to your chest while he cradled your back.

Your head buzzed the same way it would when you got high, only it felt better. Quieter. More immersive. Your back arched into his touch and the rolling of his hips kept you in that limbo. Not here nor there. You were right where you needed to be, whatever that fucking meant.

You managed to keep quiet a little better than him, giggling softly when he just plopped down onto you after you had both come down.

He stayed like that for a few minutes while you just stroked the curls by his ear, his other one listening to your heartbeat slow down.

“I’ll get ya cleaned up,” he cooed, and just as he finished dressing his phone began to ring. He just answered it as he walked to the bathroom, letting you rest some more. A few minutes later, he came back and wiped wherever you asked. “I gotta go help Tommy real quick with somethin’. W’ya stay here, keep an eye and ear out for Sarah?” He asked.

“Yeah, for sure. Be safe.”

You shared a kiss with him again before looking at the alarm clock on his nightstand. Shit. 11:32 PM.

“Joel?” He looked back at you with a raised eyebrow. “Happy Birthday,” you said with a smile.

“Thank you, princess.”

-

taglist: @paleidiot @sarap-77 @mmeereaa (cant tag) @ssweetart42

[autumnshighlady]

I've Always Liked to Play With Fire (part 20)

NESTA ARCHERON X ERIS VANSERRA X FEMALE!READER

summary: reader meet's Eris's mother, and Azriel offers a helping hand. An unexpected visitor comes to autumn, I cannot do summaries to save my life

warnings: graphic violence/torture, Cassian slander, tw B*ron sucking but also kinda slaying, implied SA, themes of depression, angst because apparently i can't write happy things

word count: 7.4k

DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE

a/n: two chapters in one day to spoil y'all as thanks for waiting so long for part 19 lmao. sorry if this chapter seems slow, but the next two chapters are doozies so gear up!

part 1 // part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / part 9 / part 10 / part 11 / part 12 / part 13 / part 14 / part 15 / part 16 / part 17 / part 18 / part 19

read on ao3

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You barely heard the hushed voices of the servants as they fiddled with the wedding dress. Pins poked at your skin as adjustments to the garment were made, but you didn’t care. You simply stood there silently, staring at the husk of a female who looked like you in the mirror. Nobody had asked you anything – not for your opinion on the dress, how it felt, nothing. Not that you expected them to. They were all aiming to please Beron Vanserra, not you.

For the past week, you hadn’t heard from or seen Nesta. Or Eris. Ever since Malgorm paid you an unexpected visit that night, Eris had warned you that it would be too dangerous to meet up for the next while. That Malgorm was likely to be excited about his new bride, and the risk of him showing up unexpectedly was too great. You hadn’t even dared to use the bond to communicate with Nesta, for fear the magic would somehow be detected by Beron’s many complex wards.

Once again, you were completely alone.

It was hard not to fall back into that panic you felt when you had woken up in Rhysand’s dungeons. That same feeling of helplessness washed over you again and again, and you had no idea what to do. Nesta, Eris, and Azriel had all promised you that this marriage wouldn’t happen, but refused to let you in on any of their planning.

“It’s too risky,” Azriel had pointed out to you when you protested. “You cannot know anything about what we are planning. If Beron or Malgorm finds out, we cannot risk you being implicated.”

Naturally, you had bitched and complained about how they didn’t have a right to risk themselves for your safety, but it landed on deaf ears. One hard look from your mate was enough to make you shut up about the matter.

They had promised to do something, yet the wedding grew closer every day. Beron had originally planned for Eris and Nesta to be married first, but whispers from the servants informed you that Malgorm had insisted that his wedding be moved up as fast as possible so he could breed you sooner. The thought made you want to vomit. Shockingly, Beron had agreed, his apparent reasoning being it gave them more time to plan the grand wedding of his eldest son. 

Tears pricked at your eyes as you stared at yourself in the mirror. The dress was pretty – a thick satin gown made with the purest of white fabric, with long sleeves and a high neck. Gold thread was embroidered around the neckline, going down the bust and arms like tendrils of flame. It was a suitable wedding dress – definitely not as elaborate as Nesta’s would be, but befitting of a marriage within a royal family.

You had been completely overwhelmed the past week with the amount of servants flocking you to prepare for the wedding. They fiddled with your hair and makeup, poking and prodding you like you were a doll for dress up.

You shuddered to think of how much more chaotic it would be for Nesta and her wedding with Eris, the eldest. After all, Malgorm was only Beron’s second youngest. 

When you weren’t being prepared for the wedding, you spent your time alone in your room, laying on the bed and watching the raindrops trickle down the window. You dared not wander the halls to entertain yourself, the fear of running into Malgorm too great. Realistically, he knew where your room was so if he truly wanted to find you, nothing could stop him. But you did not want to take the unnecessary risk.

Every time you slept for the past week, your dreams were plagued by nightmares of Malgorm. You’d wake up in tears most of the time, yearning for Nesta’s comforting presence or Eris’s smooth words to soothe you. You could still feel his hand around your throat, the remnants of the bruises still visible.

Conveniently enough, the neckline of the dress was just high enough to cover those marks on your neck.

A quiet knock at the door snapped you out of your trance. The servants scurried into whatever formation was required of them seconds before the wooden door opened. You tore your gaze away from the mirror to see a petite female with long auburn hair entering your room. Her skin was pale as snow, covered in heavy green robes. A sheer gold veil covered her head, as if meant to hide her from the world. Her russet eyes landed on you and she let out a small smile.

“My lady.” One of the servants said in greeting, bowing her head. The female’s face was unreadable, a mask of boredom so similar to the one you saw Eris wear.

“Leave us, please.” Her voice was weak, as if she was not accustomed to using it. “I would like to spend some time with my daughter.”

Your heart ached at the Lady of Autumn’s words, even though you knew they weren’t entirely genuine. You missed your own mother so terribly, that hearing someone else refer to you as their daughter was bittersweet. 

The servants obediently trailed out of the room, closing the door behind them. You bowed your head respectfully, and when you met her eyes again you nearly crumpled. Gone was the Lady’s mask of boredom. It was replaced by one of sadness and pity, as if she were looking at a younger version of herself in the mirror. Lucien had told you about the horror his mother had endured under her husband’s cruelty, his stories making you shudder. How ironic it was now, that you were to be subjected to the same fate it seemed.

“Greetings, (Y/N),” She said. “I am the High Lord’s wife, Lirilla Vanserra. It is a pleasure to meet my son’s bride.”

A single tear fell down your cheek. The heavy fabric of the dress was stifling, and your lungs felt like they weren’t getting enough air. But you were too tired to properly cry. You had weeped for the first few nights, and it seemed your body was drained. All you could do was stand there numbly, letting that singular tear make its way down your blotchy skin.

“It is an honour to meet you, my Lady.” Your words did not feel like your own as you spoke them. “And a blessing to be engaged to your son.”

The look that Eris’s mother gave you was one that could only be described as utterly heartbreaking as she said, “Oh my sweet, I think we both know that is not true.”

You were taken aback by her bold words. Every time you had seen the Lady of Autumn this past week it had been like catching a glimpse of a ghost. She had never spoken, keeping her head down and scurrying around like a frightened mouse. While she still seemed frail, her bluntness surprised you. Perhaps Beron wasn’t the one who taught Eris to put on a mask.

“It’s alright, we may speak freely here.” Lirilla said, as if she could read your expression. “The guards at the door are loyal to me, and the ears of this castle do not reach this corridor. May we sit down?”

You nodded, following your future mother-in-law to the edge of the bed. She sat down elegantly, smoothing her skirts with the poise of a female ready for her appearance at court. You, on the other hand, were less graceful, pins stabbing you as you tried to collect the white skirt.

“That is a lovely dress,” Lirilla said. “Is it to your liking?”

“Yes.” You said. “I’m just not used to this much skirt and heaviness. I pray I do not trip on my way down the aisle.”

The Lady’s expression darkened, melancholic sadness shadowing her face. “I am sorry,” Her voice was quiet and hushed. “That you are to be wed to the cruellest of my sons. I do not know how you ended up in this situation, but it is clear that this marriage is against your will.”

You frowned. “The High Lord did not tell you my circumstances?”

Lirilla smiled sadly. “My husband does not tell me most things. And I suspect yours won’t either. Malgorm was, is, the most difficult of my children. I did my best to raise him to be a good male, but like almost all my other sons, he fell into the clutches of my husband too easily.”

“All except Lucien?” You asked tentatively, unsure if you were overstepping. A grave expression crossed her face for a moment, the pain of her youngest son’s banishment from her court evident.

“He told me about you, you know.” Lirilla’s russet eyes were glazed with the memories of the past. “That's why I came to see you. I had to make sure it was the same female that Lucien had befriended all those years ago. How is your family doing, my dear? Is your mom still baking for the local schools?”

Your heart sank, both at the memory of your family and the fact that Lirilla was so cut off from the events of the outside world. “They’re all dead,” You said solemnly. “Hybern attacked my village, and I was the only survivor.”

Her eyes widened with shock. You bit your tongue, resisting the urge to tell her everything as you remembered Azriel’s words. Begrudgingly, you knew he was right – as much as you wanted to break down and tell the Lady of Autumn everything, it was too risky. The less people who knew the better, and while the female had survived Beron’s cruelty for this long, you couldn’t bring yourself to be selfish enough to burden her with the knowledge of everything else that got you into this situation.

“I am terribly sorry,” Lirilla put a comforting hand on your shoulder. “I wish I could say that things will get easier, but they won’t. Not with Malgorm. I do not wish to scare you, but I will not sit by and let you go into this marriage blind. Malgorm does not treat females kindly, including me. He will humiliate you, and cause you pain in more ways than one. I will do what I can to shield you from it, but I cannot stop this and for that I am sorry.”

You shook your head, fiddling with a pin in the white skirts. “No, I cannot ask that of you, my Lady. This suffering I am about to endure is mine to bear, and mine only. Please, do not put yourself in harm's way to try and protect me.”

Another devastatingly sad smile pulled at Lirilla’s lips. She gently reached up and stroked your cheek. “Oh, my love. I am in harm’s way every day in this castle. That will not change. You are to be my daughter, my first daughter. I may not be able to stand up for you, or even spend much time with you outside of stolen moments like this, but that doesn’t mean I won’t protect you however I can.”

Your voice cracked as you spoke. “I don’t want to marry him.”

“I know. But outside of this room, you must face it with a stiff lip. Any sign of reluctance will be punishable. Give Malgorm what he wants. He always gets what he wants in the end, and trying to resist does more harm than good. It is unpleasant, but that is the safest way to handle him.”

You shuddered at her words. You knew that she meant more than just fetching the male his afternoon tea, and your stomach churned. The breath you took trembled from effort to not cry. How had everything come to this?

“Oh honey…” Lirilla gently pulled you into her, wrapping her tiny arms around your trembling body as you let out a muffled sob. “Growing up, I always wanted a daughter. Yet now I have grown to fear the day I get blessed with a daughter-in-law, because I cannot bear to see this vicious cycle repeat over and over again for centuries.”

You cried into your mother-in-law’s arms, letting her warm embrace chase away the chill in your bones. You knew that once you were married, Malgorm would likely not leave you alone unsupervised, especially with his mother. This might just be your only chance to receive some sort of wisdom and comfort from the Lady of Autumn, so you held onto her tightly and let her stroke your hair.

“It’s ok, my child.” She soothed. “Be strong. If you are hurt, have one of the servants seek out the healer Doreah. She will be able to take the pain away and heal internal damage while ensuring the external wounds can still be seen by Malgorm. Should you need access to a safe place, take the first stairwell on the left all the way down into the basement. There is a library there with food, fresh clothes, and anything you need. The guards around it are loyal to me and will cover for you if your whereabouts are questioned. Nobody except for me and my most trusted staff knows about that place. I have had it glamoured by an old friend so that if anyone sees you going down the stairwell, it looks like you’re headed to the female-only bathing area. Not even my husband or Melgorm would follow you there.”

You felt Lirilla gently ease you out of her grip, sitting you upright. She pulled out a handkerchief and gently dried your face, muttering a spell and erasing all evidence of your crying. “I can hear Malgorm coming to visit you,” She whispered urgently. “Remember everything I’ve told you.”

The Lady of Autumn pulled away from you just in time as the door swung open, the uninvited visitor not even bothering to knock. Lirilla’s kind, pitying look had swiftly been replaced by her submissive, passive mask. She stood up hastily at her son’s arrival, bowing her head. “Malgorm,” She muttered, keeping her eyes on the floor. “It is bad luck to see your bride in her wedding dress before the–”

“Quiet.” Malgorm snapped at his mother, and she flinched as if she had been struck. You wondered how much of it was an act, and how much of it was genuine fear of her son. Malgorm’s amber gaze fixed on you greedily. “I don’t give a shit about such stupid tradition. I should be able to see my wife whenever I please. Now get out, father wants to see you.”

Lirilla nodded, gathering her skirts and hurrying past him like a ghost. Her feet made no sound on the floor as she left the room without a hint of a glance back. You were nervous, left alone with the cruel Vanserra brother. But you stood up and bowed your head, trying to mimic Lirilla’s submissive demeanour.

Malgorm made a disapproving sound as he eyed up your dress with disgust. “My father wants you to look pure and traditional,” He scoffed. “To have as much of your body covered up as possible. If it were up to me, you’d be walking down that aisle with your tits and cunt on display for everyone to see.”

Your face burned at his words, and you swallowed the bile in your throat and spoke as sweetly as possible, “I shall do whatever pleases you, my lord.”

Malgorm snickered, his dirty hand coming up to roughly yank a lock of hair out of your face. “That you shall. Luckily for you, this wedding is about pleasing my father. So you will be nice and covered up until the event is over.” He chuckled darkly, his hot breath fanning across your face as he leaned in too closely. “But the second it is over, you belong to me. And I will rip this pretty dress to shreds and stuff that tight cunt of yours every hour until you are bred. Understood?”

You nodded, even as the room swayed around you. “It will be a great honour to bear your child, my lord.” The words felt wrong on your lips, like oil had been poured in your mouth and choked you as it slid down your throat. You were saying what you had to say to keep him happy, you reminded yourself. Nesta and Eris would stop the wedding before it got to that point. Eris had reassured you that even Malgorm would respect the High Lord’s wishes to wait until you were wed to him to bed you, but you couldn’t help but wonder if Malgorm was unhinged enough to do it anyways.

“I expect you to give me sons.” He said coldly. “If you dare curse me with a daughter, I will tear her from the cord and feed her to my brother’s hounds before you can even see her face.”

You swallowed thickly, fear making the hair on your arms raise at the image. You wondered if Eris had built a reputation that was so cruel his brother was sure he would have no qualms about letting his hounds murder a newborn child. The thought made you shudder. You knew Eris had to play a role to survive his father’s court, but you did not know how far he would go. And while you trusted him, that did not erase the inkling of fear.

“I shall pray day and night that the Mother blesses me with sons.” You managed to get the words out without stuttering, which you were happy with. Luckily, Malgorm seemed satisfied enough with you answer.

“Excellent.” He said smoothly, reaching into a pocket and pulling out a sharp knife. Your blood ran cold. “Now, let’s play.”

 *********************

You couldn’t be bothered to try and wipe the blood off your stomach. You had no energy, no strength to even curl your naked, bloody body up into a ball against the cold chill of the room. Your wedding dress was neatly hung up in the corner, Malgorm having been smart enough to get it out of the way before he went to work.

Your body stung with every cut from his blade. Most were shallow cuts that would heal in a day or so, but by the Mother there were so many of them. Your skin felt shredded, like a ruined canvas suffering the wrath of an angry artist. Malgorm had delighted in slicing his blade across your skin, avoiding your hands and face – the only parts of your body that would be visible in the wedding. You could still feel his wet mouth and tongue sliding over the wounds like a venomous snake, the sensation making you want to rip your ruined skin from your body.

Luckily, the male had obeyed his fathers command and not tried to fuck you. He kept his hands away from your centre, seemingly content to ruin other acceptable parts of your body instead. No doubt he wanted everything down there perfect and intact for the wedding night.

A soft shadow grazed your fingertip. It curled up your arm like a ribbon, coming to your face. It seemed to whisper words you couldn’t understand, especially in your lifeless state. “Az…” You murmured, his familiar scent on the small shadow that seemed to inspect your body.

A few moments later, you felt a presence standing over you. “By the Mother…” Came Azriel’s shocked voice. “What did he do to you...”

The shadowsinger emerged from the darkness, leaning down to inspect the dozens of wounds littered across your skin. His hazel eyes were filled with horror as a scarred hand grazed a cut on your collarbone. You watched helplessly as his eyes trailed down to the significant pool of blood beside you that trickled from a deep wound in your stomach.

Right where the letter ‘M’ was carved below your belly button, a few inches above your core.

You couldn’t bring yourself to care about your nakedness in front of the shadowsinger. Malgorm had already begun to strip you of your dignity anyways. But Azriel quickly grabbed the blanket from the end of your bed, gently wrapping it around your body and hoisting you upright. You winced in pain. “We have to stop meeting like this, shadowsinger.” You croaked. “With me being tortured and all.”

Azriel snorted. “Stop getting yourself into these situations then.”

“Couldn’t help it.” Your reply was weak, but earned a slight twitch of the spymaster’s lips, a hint of a smile. “How’d you find me?”

Shadows skirted over your skin, their gentle coolness soothing the sting of the wounds and making you sigh in relief. “I was meeting with Nesta and Eris,” He answered. “She could feel something was wrong… through the bond. Eris sent me to see what happened.”

You frowned. The shadowsinger never stumbled over his words in the entire time you had known him. He already knew Nesta was your mate, so his stutter made you ask, “Why’d you say it like that?”

“What do you mean?” Azriel’s expression gave nothing away, but you could tell something was bothering him.

“What, you don’t like that two females are mates? Is that it?”

The Illyrian departed to your washroom, fetching a damp cloth as he responded. “No, no, Mother above, no. I take no issue with that and you know it.”

“Then what is it?”

Azriel sighed, a lock of dark hair falling across his forehead as he returned and knelt down beside you. He carefully pulled back the blanket, revealing the bloody ‘M’ on your stomach. He pressed the wet cloth to the wound, gently cleaning it. “Something happened,” His tone was cautious, as if he wasn’t sure how much to say. “Between Nesta and Eris. It’s changed things slightly. They’re still trying to figure out how to end the engagement between you and Melgorm but… it’s difficult.”

“How so?” You frowned, trying to sit up straighter only to get gently pushed back down by Azriel. “What do you mean?”

He sighed. “Gods, I really do not wish to be involved in this little love triangle.”

“Well too bad,” You snapped, ignoring the sting of your wounds and fixing him a glare. “Because you already are. So tell me.”

“I can’t decide if you’d be the worst interrogator in Prythian or the best.” Azriel grumbled, moving the cloth to begin wiping down the wounds on your left arm.

“Stop dodging the question.”

“It’s really something they should be the ones to tell you–”

“For fuck’s sake, if I have to march out of this room bloody and naked to find Nesta and Eris so help me I will actually do it.”

Azriel glared at you, snarling. “You’re fucking insufferable, you know that?”

You shrugged, tilting your head and waiting for him to tell you exactly what happened. The shadowsinger let out a sigh, and began cleaning your other arm as he spoke. “Remember how you said that Estelle mentioned Nesta had more than one mate, but Cassian was not one of them?”

You nodded.

“I guess that really is true, because a mating bond snapped for her the other day apparently. Between Nesta and Eris.”

Your jaw went slack. You couldn’t describe the emotions that rushed through you at Azriel’s words. It wasn’t the surge of mately jealousy you expected, nor was it anger per se. Sure, Nesta and Eris were a strong political match, but mates? The thought had never even crossed your mind. But it made sense, in some wicked way. Nesta and Eris had similar magic, and could both hold their own in a court of vipers. Perhaps they truly would make strong offspring, which you supposed was the main reason mates were created. Or so you had been told.

Azriel’s brow was furrowed at your silence. “You don’t seem surprised.”

You shrugged, trying to calm your racing mind. “Not entirely. Better it be Eris than someone potentially worse. It will work well in their favour, I suppose.”

The spymaster’s normally unreadable face was riddled with confusion. If you were not in pain, you’d have laughed at his expression. He shook his head, continuing to dab at the wounds on your chest as he spoke. “I do not understand,” Azriel continued. “When the bond snapped between Rhys and Feyre, Cassian and I could barely look at Feyre without him snarling at us. I may not have a mate, but I know mates are supposed to be utterly possessive of one another. Why are you not enraged that your mate has another bond?”

You sighed. Azriel would never truly understand – it was obvious that a mating bond was something he desired greatly. For Nesta to have not only one, but two mating bonds surely brought him discomfort. And truthfully, while you were certainly experiencing a whirlwind of emotions at the new information, none of them were associated with anger or jealousy. 

Love comes in many forms and unexpected ways, your mother had once told you. Those words had stuck by you all these years, and growing up in Spring had exposed you to all different kinds of relationships. Males had courted males, females had courted females, and you had often heard stories of an individual having multiple courtings, all of which was done with nothing but love, devoid of possessiveness or jealousy. 

“Nesta is someone who has not experienced nearly as much love as she should,” You began, meeting Azriel’s hazel gaze. “She is my mate, and nothing will ever change that. There is nothing she can do that will make me love her any less. But I don’t believe the amount of love an individual can receive should be restricted to one person. If Eris is her mate and can grow to love her, what kind of mate would I be to want it denied from her? Nesta deserves all the love that the world can offer her, and if that comes from both me and Eris then I do not see how that could be a bad thing.”

The Illyrian was quiet for a moment, his shadows swirling around his neck as if they, too, were deep in thought. “You make it sound so simple.” He said after a minute. 

“Because it is. Nesta and Eris had a connection before the bond snapped into place. They are good for each other, and you know it. You just need to get past your one sided hatred for the male and see it.”

Anger sparked in Azriel’s face. “And what about Cassian?”

“What about him?”

“He loves Nesta. You claim that the Mother… Estelle… told you that Cassian was not one of Nesta’s mates. But there is something between them, both he and Nesta know it. He loves her.”

You curled your fingers into fists, nails biting the sweaty flesh of your palm. “Cassian is no concern of mine.” You snarled at the shadowsinger. “He is for Nesta to deal with. And he is not in love with her, he loves the idea of being with her. You aren’t a fool, Azriel. Every interaction they have turns into a battle, with Cassian making it his mission to push her buttons and disrespect her boundaries. Can you truly look me in the eye and tell me that they are a better match than Nesta and I? Or Nesta and Eris?”

He opened his mouth as if to instinctively defend his brother, but nothing came out. “Thought so.” You continued. “If Feyre and Rhys were not mates, you all would not be pushing for Nesta to be with Cassian as hard as you have. You act like she has to become worthy of his love, as if he is some perfect male. He’s 500 years old, quit making excuses for him and his shitty behaviour.”

Azriel put the blood soaked cloth down, gently pulling the blanket back over your shivering form to cover your body once again. You pitied the male slightly, guilt creeping in for the position he had gotten himself into. You knew Azriel had been loyal to Rhysand for five centuries, and it was clear that this was the first time he felt truly torn. 

“If Cassian and Nesta are not mates, then why did Rhys make such a statement?” Azriel asked, turning his body so he sat beside you. A giant wing gently grazed your blanket covered shoulder, as if to provide some sort of comfort. “Does he truly believe they are mates, or was it a lie? I cannot think of why he would lie about something that big.”

“I can.” You snorted, earning an eye roll from Azriel.

“I will not deny my brother’s horrid actions,” He protested, voice edged with anger. “But he loves Cassian, and lying to him about the mating bond–”

“Would be a way to try and lure Nesta back to the Night Court.” You interrupted the shadowsinger. “A means to control her, and convince her to stay.”

Azriel shook his head, scarred hands fiddling with the hilt of his dagger. “You don’t understand. You know Nesta, but I know Cassian. He’s been acting like a male whose mate has been taken from him. His behaviour is erratic and unreasonable, more so than he has ever been. I cannot think of an explanation for that aside from a mating bond, (Y/N). Besides, he can feel her somehow. There’s something tying them together.”

“I believe the Mother more than your High Lord. If she says that Cassian is not Nesta’s mate, then I believe her.” Truthfully, Azriel’s confession about Cassian’s mood lately unsettled you, having lined up with Emerie and Gwyn’s note about the general being unhinged. You had to admit, they sounded like the actions of a distressed mated male. Azriel was right, something was tying them together. You just didn’t know what.

“Regardless, that bears little relevance to the situation currently.” The spymaster said, echoing your thoughts as he steered away from the uncomfortable topic. “You are set to be married to Malgorm by the end of next week. Nesta and Eris are to be wed soon after. Eris is coming up with a plan to stop your wedding, and I suspect killing his father as well. There is no chance that he will be able to defy Beron and end your engagement and get away with it. Beron has to be eliminated, it is the only way to ensure your safety.”

You felt ill. Killing Beron was something you hadn’t thought of as much in light of the problems of the foreseeable future. It only doubled the risk of everything, trying to execute two life-altering plans within such a short window. You didn’t even know if he and Nesta were ready to take on a High Lord. Sure, they were incredibly powerful fae, but Beron had centuries of experience on them. He was cruel, but not stupid.

Eris was risking his entire plan to become High Lord to ensure you weren’t made to marry his cruel younger brother.

Shadows wisped around your face, as if they could hear your thoughts. Beside you, Azriel remained stoic, but spoke softly. “Eris cares about you, too.”

“Sometimes I think I understand him, and other times I feel like I could not be more wrong.” You sighed, tightening your grip on the stained blanket. “He’s a male whose actions are driven by his own secret agenda. I understand how helping Nesta fits into it, but me? Helping me is a courtesy, a generous one even for him. I… I don’t understand why he’s risking so much for me, unless it’s all because Nesta is his mate too.”

“There might be more to Eris Vanserra than I could have ever imagined. Whether that is for better or for worse, I do not know. I will not lie, it makes me uneasy that your fate will be in his hands. But for some reason you have trusted him this far. Time will tell if that trust has been misplaced.”

Deep down, you knew it wasn’t. Perhaps it was because you shared a mate with him, a commonality that would keep you united no matter what. Or perhaps it was that foolish part of your brain that fancied the eldest Vanserra brother from a distance, who had teasingly called you his little fox on the rare occasion he ran into you with Lucien. 

You shivered as another chilly gust of wind seeped into the room through the cracked window. It soothed your still stinging wounds beneath the blanket, but you wrapped the fabric even tighter around you. “Whatever Eris is planning, I hope it works.” You mumbled.

“Me too.” Azriel said dryly. “For all our sake.”

 *********************

You tried to keep your breathing steady as you stood on the second step of the dias below Beron’s throne. Grand torches lined the red and gold carpet leading up to the throne, illuminating the tapestries lining each wooden wall. 

It had been mid morning when the servants flooded your room, scrambling to get you ready for an appearance in court. When you frantically asked what the fuss was about, you were surprised when you received an answer.

“His Grace has received an unexpected visitor,” The oldest of the servants said in a hushed tone. “You and your betrothed are expected with the rest of the family to greet them.”

It had taken less than five minutes for your hair to be done and your dress to be fitted properly before a set of guards had escorted you to the throne room. Upon entering, you had snuck a glance at the other figures on the dias. Lirilla stood left beside the seated High Lord, her head bowed and hands clasped in front of her. Eris and Nesta were on Beron’s right, one step below. Both adorned royal outfits in similar shades of red, each wearing an almost identical mask of boredom. Nesta’s arm was linked through Eris’s as a formality, but you noticed how tense she was. Her breathing was shallow, as if being in such close proximity to Eris was too much. Luckily, it appeared to be something only you noticed. To everyone else, they appeared the stone-cold politically arranged couple they were meant to be.

You had tried to reach out to Nesta through the bond, but were met with a wall of stone. You tried not to let it sting as she shut you out, choosing to focus on keeping your expression neutral as you held onto Malgorm’s arm the same way Nesta was with Eris’s. It felt wrong, and every part of you wanted to recoil at his touch. Your skin still felt flayed from the events of last night, but as predicted the dress that Malgorm undoubtedly chose for you this morning covered up all evidence of his actions.

So you fought through the pain, ignoring the sneering looks of Beron’s other sons whose names you did not know. You were almost grateful when harsh words from the High Lord threatening punishment to his offspring put them in line.

The tension in the room was thick. You hadn’t dared try and look back towards Nesta and Eris, not with Beron breathing down your necks. It was only a few minutes after the Vanserra family had gotten in formation when the heavy doors to the throne room opened, and the High Lord of the Night Court strode in.

Your mouth went dry. Your mind flashed with images of that forsaken dungeon, the dark tendrils of the High Lord’s power carving through your skin like butter. Was he here to snatch you away? Piercing violet eyes landed on you as Rhysand approached the foot of the dias, swarming with a mixture of fury and confusion. Nevertheless, he bowed his head to Beron. “High Lord,” Rhys said smoothly. “You are looking well.”

You weren’t fooled by the feigned respect. Luckily, Beron wasn’t either, and you heard the male scoff. “Do not bother yourself with false pleasantries, we both know you don’t actually mean them.” Beron said coldly, his aged voice echoing through the throne room like the power of an ancient god. “Give me one reason why I should not execute you for entering my territory without permission.”

Rhys straightened his shoulders, cocking his head and stuffing his hands in his pockets as he met Beron’s words with a cool tone. “Last I checked, meetings of diplomacy were still favourable between two High Lords, were they not?”

“And yet you have no excuse for the uninvited part.”

“I fear my concerns were too urgent and important to notify you in advance.” Rhys’s voice was saccharine, a veil to disguise his true intentions. On a younger, more inexperienced High Lord, it may have worked. But once again, you found yourself strangely grateful for Beron Vanserra. The older male saw right through his words, and would not be afraid to challenge him.

“And what is so important you had to barge in on my court uninvited?” Beron growled, the flames from the torches along the carpet flaring slightly.

Rhysand’s face was smug, and he looked at you directly as he spoke. “You have in your midst a valuable asset of mine. I want her back.”

A cold pit formed in your stomach as you met his stare evenly, despite your bones trembling beneath his gaze. You were right – Rhys had come to spin some lie about you that was designed to make Beron hand you over to the Night Court. You were a fly trapped in a web, and your hand clenching nervously around Malgorm’s arm was not entirely for show.

“Do explain.” Was all the High Lord of Autumn said in a bored tone.

“The female standing at the bottom of the dias belongs to me. Your eldest son infiltrated my court and kidnapped her on the full moon. He is holding her here against her will in a pathetic attempt to hold leverage over me. I ask that you punish Eris Vanserra for his insubordination and return Lady (Y/N) to me, so I can bring her home where she belongs.”

Your blood ran cold. Rhys wasn’t just trying to get you back, but Nesta as well. He wanted to take down Eris in the process, which would force Beron to not only send you back to the Night Court, but Nesta too since the engagement would be broken off and she would have nothing tying her to Autumn. Panic began to stir inside you. This couldn’t be happening. You braced yourself for Beron’s wrath, demanding Eris be brought to the dungeons for immediate questioning.

But instead, the cruel male just laughed. A bitter, hoarse sound like a broken instrument. “That was a pathetic excuse of a story, even for you, Rhysand.” Beron said, making the Night Court Lord blink in surprise. “Not even well crafted. How dare you come into my court and attempt to manipulate me?”

You heard Beron rise in his throne, and the torches began to flare angrily as the High Lord’s temper rose. “I am no fool. I know that you are only here because you’re desperate from losing your spy that had valuable intel on you. A spy who fled your clutches seeking sanctuary with me because of what you did to her.”

“I did nothing.” Rhys said, which angered Beron even more.

“You lie again! I am well aware that the girl was trained as a spy against her will to repay her debt to you. You were an immature fool to trust a prisoner to spy for you, which is one of the many reasons your court is run so poorly. I saw the wounds you inflicted on her, boy, when she found out you planned to take the title of High King.”

Rhys’s expression revealed shock for a split second, the loss of composure making you laugh internally. You hadn’t expected Beron to defend you so vehemently, especially against another male. But you still clung to every breath nervously as he continued to speak.

“Have you not considered that this information she so eagerly gave you might be a ploy to get you to wage war on my court?” Rhysand said carefully.

“So you admit then that your story was false?” Beron had impressively backed Rhys into a corner, catching him in his lie. “That she was indeed your spy turned rogue?”

Rhys had the nerve to shrug. “All that matters is that she is a member of my court, and I demand you release her to me.” He kept his tone neutral, but you could feel the desperation coming off of him in waves.

“My daughter is no longer a member of your court.”

Rhysand’s face blanched visibly at Beron’s words. He went utterly still, even the pulsing aura of power that always seemed to be around him quieting. His violet eyes found you again, but you kept your chin high. He glanced down at your arm entwined with Malgorm’s, who was no doubt smirking proudly at Rhys. It was strange, hearing Beron refer to you as his daughter. 

“What?” The High Lord of the Night Court said quietly.

“As a reward for her bravery in fleeing your grasp, and for the useful information she so willingly provided us with, I have given her the honour of marrying my son Malgorm. She is my daughter now, and you will not take her from me.”

You felt an invisible hot flame on your arm, undoubtedly the power of the High Lord. It beckoned you, pulling you towards the throne where he had seated himself once again. Malgorm had seemingly felt it too, for he guided you up the steps to where Beron sat. You looked into the eyes of the High Lord for the first time. His hair was slicked back identical to Malgorm’s, but faded to an ashy grey in contrast to his son’s fiery red. His sharp face took you in, amber eyes glowing like a snake in the dark. He extended a hand towards you, fingers clad in rings more expensive than everything your village in Spring had owned put together. You smiled as you took it, ensuring you looked grateful. To further paint the image of Beron’s new daughter, you lowered your head and gently kissed his aged hand as a sign of respect for your father-in-law. 

Beron looked at you proudly, pulling you closer so you were standing right next to him. His hand was clammy and his grip was ironclad, but you showed no signs of resistance. Malgorm took up his post slightly behind you, an arm on the small of your back in a display of ownership.

Rhysand’s mask had slipped entirely as you stared defiantly down at him, disgust and shock written all over his features. He had not even given Nesta and Eris a second glance, his fury towards you overriding his diplomatic practices. But you did not feel frightened, not with Nesta, Eris, and especially Beron in the same room.

Nothing would happen to you. Beron would protect you for his own selfish reasons, but it was reassuring nonetheless.

“My eldest son did not kidnap the girl.” Beron said coldly, his grip on your hand never faltering. “The day you claim it happened, Eris was assigned to meetings with my courtiers from sunup to sundown, all of whom can act as witness.”

You pushed down your confusion – Eris was most definitely not in meetings that day, and how he had managed to pull this alibi off was something you would have to ask him about later.

Beron continued, authority strong in his voice. “She came to me willingly, and I have welcomed her with open arms. I know who she is – a girl from the Spring Court whom you rescued then used as a pawn in one of your little games, only for her to outsmart you in the end. Never again will my daughter fall into suffering under your hands, Rhysand. If you try to do anything to harm her or remove her from my territory, I will burn your entire court to the ground. Just as I will do if you ever think of claiming the title of High King of Prythian.”

Beron spat the title out, his power filling the room. “You are an immature boy playing games you don’t understand,” He continued dangerously. “And any attempt at seizing lordship over this land will be met with the slaughter of everything you hold dear. I will erase your name from the history books, and there will be nobody left to remember Amarantha’s Whore. And if you think any of the other High Lords would bow down to you, your arrogance is even more stupid than I thought. Now get out of my court, half-breed. And do not return.”

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[squash1]

An essay on what makes Gansey, Gansey.

Go.

okay. strap in.

in this essay i will examine how, ultimately, what makes gansey, gansey is his experience with death at an early age and how that is fundamentally about a loss of childhood.

to understand what makes gansey, gansey you have to look at gansey’s two lives. gansey was born into a wealthy family — the kind of family that passes down names father to son and has buildings then built in that name. until gansey was 10, we can assume he fit into this affluent world without issue. little gansey was most likely a spoiled little rich kid — not a bad person but inherently out of touch because of the reality he was born into. when gansey dies the first time, it changes his perception of reality — he has an understanding of time and mortality that most adults don’t have never mind ten year olds. this first death is a representation of an early end to gansey’s childhood. he no longer easily fits into the wealthy, laid back world he was born into. we have to assume that until gansey went to stay with mallory, he was in DC with his parents trying to fit into their world but instead feeling intensely isolated and lonely. because even though gansey changed, his parents didn’t.

mallory is an important figure because of the time he represents in gansey’s life. we know from mallory that at 14 gansey struggled intensely with anxiety, that he hadn’t yet learned to present only his shiny gansey mask to the world. but instead of being dismissive, mallory showed gansey kindness and empathy — he was perhaps gansey’s first friend because sometimes delightfully weird old british men are exactly what a teenager needs. mallory helped gansey in his quest, but he also helped him to discover this new version of himself by making him feel not only safe but like there were other people beyond his parent’s world that would understand this pull and fascination he had.

understanding this backstory is key to understanding what makes gansey, gansey, because an intimate knowledge of death is what has produced this gansey that we meet in the raven boys. the gansey we meet is silly and strange and charming. he uses phrases like “hey, tiger” and drinks organic apple juice from the bottle, he has a favorite yellow sweater and is vocal about his love for it. and that’s just gansey, those are ganseyisms as i like to say. gansey has chosen to live his life with childlike wonder and whimsy because he lost that at an early age but doesn’t want to loose it forever. he has decided to embrace the weird, unknown parts of life. he is essentially reclaiming his time. he’s saying yes i know that there is death and darkness in the world, yes i have seen it first hand, yes i still feel it sometimes but i am going to live my life hopefully. gansey has carved out a life for himself in henrietta — a town that in and of itself makes him feel known, but also contains a piece of his old world in aglionby — and has slowly found people who fit, who feel right, who are 1,000 years old just like him. gansey has been lonely for a lot of his life but he found people who were lonely like he was lonely, that were looking for the something more just like he was looking for the something more. he is a compelling leader not because of money or status, but because his hope and quest and belief are real and made real because of gansey’s relationship to mortality. he has made it his mission to build a life he wants, even if it’s short, even if he’s scared. what makes gansey, gansey is his ability to choose hope anyway, to choose to live anyway.

if you made it this far, i love u

[soapyghost]

Scarred- Graves x Fem! reader

Warnings- swearing, violence, mentions of death, guns, angst (A LOT OF ANGST) dark Graves, prior relationship with Graves, mean Graves, smut, oral (m&f receiving), unprotected p in v. ALSO SPOILER WARNINGS- IF YOU HAVE NOT FINISHED THE MW2 CAMPAGIN PLEASE DO NOT READ THIS IF YOU DO NOT WANT IT SPOILED. THIS TAKES PLACE AFTER THE GAMEA/N: I was chatting with @johnnytavish about a post game angst filled Graves and this is the product of that so enjoy. Wordcount- 3k

He hadn’t even so much as looked at you since he was brought back. After the crushing defeat in Las Almas, he’d changed. The 141 squad had assumed that Commander Graves had died in that tank, and to their credit part of him did. He no longer laughed or even smiled. His somewhat jovial demeanor was never seen again.

General Sheppard had been the one to coordinate the rescue mission, fully expecting it to be a body retrieval. When you and the small group of remaining Shadows touched down in the dead of night your heart was in your throat. You always knew this was a possibility, that you would lose him. But now being smacked with the reality that Graves really was gone shattered you to your very core. It wasn’t supposed to end like this, you thought to yourself. The sweet promises you two had shared all those nights twisted up in the sheets of his room had all snapped like glass. They would never come true now.

You came up first to the metal heap of the tank, unable to contain your anxiety. Wrenching open the door you saw him. He was pale and blood battered. Tears pricked into the corners of your eyes as you stumbled into the scrapped hull and reached to find a pulse. As your fingers touched his neck you almost yanked your hand away, he was warm. He was warm.

You could feel the faint dancing pulse beneath his skin. “He’s alive” you screamed. You hoisted him over your shoulder with a strength that you never knew you had. “Get me EVAC NOW!” You shouted, placing him gently on the ground. Swallowing hard to force the tears to recede back into your skull you began removing some of his gear and throwing it at one of the other shadows, you began to search his body for wounds. There was a huge gash on his face that went from the top of his forehead down through his left eye, across his lips ending at his chin. It was bleeding pretty heavily and may need stitches. Continuing your search you came across several broken ribs, a fractured shin and too many cut wounds to count. He was battered and bruised almost beyond recognition but he was alive.

The months after his rescue felt like years. He had lost sight in his left eye because of the cut he suffered, and it snapped something in him. Graves vowed that he would take something from 141 for the things they took from him. Gone was the man you knew, the man you loved, and all that remained was a husk of a man fueled only by revenge. You had tried to talk to him on dozens of occasions but he never even looked your way, let alone deign a response. The anger began to well up inside you after each encounter. This man vowed to protect and love you and now he can’t even look you in the eye. You were supposed to go away together after this mission. Take a month long vacation on some sandy beach thinking about nothing other than each other. Yet here you were, in the dark damp forest in hiding from the rest of the world. His greed had ripped everything from you.

Now that he had fully healed you were going to corner him. You bit your lip as you went over and over in your mind how you were going to talk to him, a stranger in the body of your boyfriend. You had gone over and over in your mind the things you wanted to say but it all flew out the window the minute you see him walking towards you. You reach out to him as he begins to pass you and shove him into a storage room.

“What the fuck Snow?” He snarled. He didn’t even use your real name. This lit a fire inside of you that no one could extinguish. You’d been fucking him for months, and all this man could say was your code name?

“What the fuck?” You scream back at him, “You’re asking me what the fuck? What the fuck is wrong with you? You haven’t said a single word to me since I pulled you from that tank. I saved you Phillip and you can’t even look me in the eye or even say my goddamn name!” Your voice getting higher and higher as you continue to let out every morsel of anger that had been consuming you. “I thought you DIED!” You finish, choking on the last word.

“I did” he spat back at you, eyes finally reaching yours. They were devoid of all life. The sparkle that once thrived inside them had been killed. He wasn’t your Phillip anymore. He was Graves.

His words stung. You couldn’t help the tears that began to swell and push past the dam of your eyelids. They streamed down your face like a waterfall in the early spring.

“No. I saved you. I got you out of that tank and back home. I brought you back to me!” You wailed in a feeble attempt to get Phillip back. You punched him like a child throwing a temper tantrum, but he didn’t even flinch. Your punched bouncing off of him like they were nothing. He grabbed your wrists “Enough” he commanded.

You stare at him for a moment, searching his eyes for answers but found none. Wrenching your hands free from his grasp you spun on your heels and reached for the door. Before you were able to touch the handle a pair of hands grabbed your waist and spun you around, forcing your back against the wall. His lips crashed onto yours, hungry, feral and almost animalistic. This kiss was nothing like the sweet kisses you had shared countless nights in his room. Regardless your body melted into his just the same as it did on all those shared evenings. You kissed him back, thankful that you had even a sliver of him back.

You break away first, gasping for breath. “Phillip you can’t just not speak to me for months and then try to fuck me in a supply room” you whisper, trying to focus. His kiss momentarily erasing all anger that you had within you. The familiar scent of sandalwood and musk washing over you like a warm blanket. Pushing him away you see it, flicker on his eyes for a millisecond, but you see him again. He's in there somewhere. "Phillip, please. What is going on?" you blink back tears again.

"I can't. I just can't" he chokes out after what seems like an eternity of silence. His shoulders go limp as he looks down at the floor, "I can't hurt you again. This has to end" he whispers, so quietly you have to pause. "What?" your voice cracks. His eyes meet yours for a brief moment and he pushes past you and leaves you alone with just your demons.

It had been several weeks since that day in the supply room, and you had thought about what he said every waking moment of every day. Waking up every morning only to remember the man you loved said it was over was like being stabbed. No, being stabbed hurt less than this. The mundane days blended, wake up, feel like you're being stabbed, see him, work, cry yourself to sleep, rinse and repeat. Every time you saw him it felt like you stepped on a land mine, all your bones shattered, you could feel your blood pumping. All you could think about was him saying "I can't hurt you again". What could he mean by that? He's hurting you day in and day out by ignoring you. No matter what happened, you would always love him.

Things had gone back to him speaking to you for work related things, just like how he was when you first joined Shadow Company. When he treated you just the same as every piece of dirt. It took almost a year to crack past Graves to Phillip, and the fear of having to do it all over again was almost too much. But today was different, you saw that spark return to Graves while watching him command a fresh group of Shadows. It was a different spark, one fueled by the need for revenge. At least he was alive again. He was harsher with the new recruits, more than likely because of the sting of losing so many. He was harsher on you too.

"Snow! Shoulders back" he barked, one day during range shooting. You knew your stance was fine, he knew your stance was fine. "Fuck off" you shouted back at him. The whole range went silent. Fear creeped up into your chest, you've spoken to him like this hundreds of times and never had a fear like this. Every set of eyes in the shooting range bore into your body, shredding into as if they were shooting you with their guns. "My office, NOW" he roared, before turning and storming in the direction of his office. You stood there, stunned. He had never used this tone on you before.

You followed after him, like a puppy who chewed up the mail and was about to be reprimanded, tail between your legs. Once you arrived at the door to his office you paused, a million and one thoughts passing through your mind. What if he kicked you from the Shadows? Where would you go? You were already in hiding because of his actions. Would he turn you over to the authorities? No. He wouldn't do that, you took a deep sigh and knocked on his door.

"Come in" came his muffled voice. You slowly opened the door to find him sitting at this desk, hands rubbing his temples. "Sit down" he commanded, gesturing to the plus chair that sat across from his desk. You silently did as he asked, sinking as deep into the chair as physically possible. "You can't talk to me like that Snow." he sighed, as he looked up at you. "Why? What has changed so much that I can't even speak to you?" you whimpered, desperate to fly across the desk and shove your face into his chest like you used to. "Everything has changed, Y/N. Like you said, I almost died. I can't let that happen again. I will not be weak, and that's what you make me" his voice was measured, and restrained.

"I don't make you weak Phillip, I make you human" you pleaded. "Stop being Graves and be Phillip for one goddamn minute." You searched his eyes for the flicker again, but all you could see was Graves. Your mind was swimming with how you could get him back, get back to what you were. Before you registered what you were doing, you leaped over the desk and into his lap. He stiffened at your touch. Placing your hands on his cheeks you forced him to look at you, "Please." you whispered as you leaned down to kiss him.

It took a moment, but he finally returned your kiss. It was the same as the one you shared in that supply room, hungry and feral. Crazed even. His hands began exploring your body, setting fire everywhere he touched. It felt so good to be touched by him again. Every neuron in your body was firing, every sense was filled with him. His tongue pressed against your lips, demanding to be let in, so you parted your lips. You involuntarily bucked your hips into him, and let out a small moan. You had missed this, missed him.

In one swift movement he lifted you off his lap and onto your knees. You looked up at him puzzled. He simply looked down at you and began to unbuckle his belt, and it became clear. A surge of excitement ran through you, this was different. Normally when you had sex it was soft, loving almost fairytale like. This was pure lust, and it sent a thrill down your spine. Your hands reached up to help undo his zipper and release him from those tight black cargo pants. His cock sprung out of its cage and slapped against his stomach. He was huge, you had almost forgotten how big it really was. You took no time in eagerly grabbing the shaft and running your tongue up it, all while looking through your eyelashes at him. A guttural groan escaped his mouth as he threw his head back. You popped the head in your mouth and swirled your tongue around it, lapping up the precum. He grabbed a fistful of hair and began to guide your head, shoving himself deeper and deeper into your throat.

You gagged and tears welled in your eyes as he hit the back of your throat. The sound only sent him into overdrive, as he began to forcefully bob your head onto his cock. The combination of saliva and precum began to drip down your chin as you worked him inside your hollowed cheeks. Finally you pushed back on him to come up for a breath.

"Fuck, I've missed you doll" he breathes, eyes on yours. He hoists you up and onto the desk where he makes quick work of your pants. Throwing them into the corner of the room his attention turned towards the lace panties that barely covered you. You smiled up at him as he took you in, "You vixen" he smirks as he grabs the waistband and shimmies them down your legs. Once you're free of all barriers, he shoves your legs apart and drops to his knees and in-between your thighs. The warmth of his tongue against your folds causes a gasp of pleasure to erupt from you. You desperately grab onto the edges of the desk to ground yourself. He felt like heaven between your legs, the way he lapped up every ounce of you. His tongue sliding in and out of you, before sliding two fingers in. A moan of pleasure escapes from your lips as he picks up his pace, using his thumb to rub your clit. He hadn't forgotten how to please you. You were putty in his hand, literally. Your body turned to Jell-O as you began to feel your orgasm creep up on you. Your soft moans were music to Grave's ears, as he continued to rub your clit and relentlessly fuck you with his fingers. "Fuck, mm- don't stop Phillip. M' gunna cum" you mewl.

All at once you feel his fingers slide out of you, and you tense at the loss of your orgasm. You snap open your eyes and open your mouth to protest but before the words escape your mouth his lips are on you. He flips your body around so your chest is now on the desk and your pretty ass is in the air.

"God, what a sight." he muses, "what would the company think if they saw you on your Commanders desk, begging for it". You simply wag your ass and whisper "please". You hear his pants fall to the floor and feel him pressed up against you. His breath hot on your ear as he lines himself up and thrusts himself into you. A yelp escapes your lips at how hard and fast he entered you, filling you up to the brim. "Fuccck" he drawls into your ear, "You feel so fucking good".

He doesn't give you a moment to get used to his size before he takes a fistful of your hair and places his other hand on your lower back before he starts a relentless pace. Your eyes roll back into your head as you become fuck dumb on his cock. The moans escaping your mouth coupled with the slick sound of his cock pounding your pussy are absolutely filthy. A string of curses leave your lips as he takes his hand off your back and slips it back to your clit, rubbing unforgiving circles. His touch sends shockwaves through your body, and the familiar feeling of your orgasm slowly begins to return.

"Cum for me" he commands you, "Cum for your Commander." The gruffness of his voice sends you tumbling over the edge of euphoria. A mess of his name and every curse word in the world fall from your lips as he fucks you through your orgasm. "Mmmm, you listen so well here" he whispers in your ear. All you can do is gasp and nod your head, too cock dumb to form a proper sentence. His thrust start to become sloppy, knowing he was close you tighten your core, causing your walls to flutter on his cock. The grip on your hair tightens in response and grunt leaves his lips as he twitches inside you, his cum filling you up, and leaking out dripping onto the floor. His breath is heavy against you as he leans down, forehead on the back of your skull.

You both take a moment to catch your breath before you turn around to face him. You had never had sex with him like this. It was always something out of those silly movies where the guy treats the girl like a princess. It was all southern charm and honey. This was down and dirty, sex on his goddamn desk. You look over him, wondering what happened to that but also secretly loving this new side. He smiled softly at you, placing a kiss gently on your forehead before zipping up his pants and retrieving yours. It was him again, for a few moments you got Phillip. After you had redressed he allowed you to hold him for just a few precious minutes before he gently removed your arms from him. Just like you used to, every time you'd both finish you would sit there arms wrapped lazily around each other, simply basking in the others presence. Slowly you looked up at him, a smile on your face.

But the man who looked back at you was not your Phillip anymore, it was Graves.

[senashenta]

What Foxes Like

Title: What Foxes Like

Pairing: Sterek

Rating: G

Warnings: None

Summary: Stiles and Derek have been in a relationship for over a year and still none of their friends know about it. Because reasons.

Notes: Written for Poe, originally. This is actually the sequel to a fic I haven't finished yet. I fail. I tried to make sure it made sense anyway. Also, surprise Steve Rogers and Jaskier Pankratz cameos! (I just spoiled the surprise.) You can also read it HERE on AO3.

WHAT FOXES LIKE By Senashenta

“they take their shots, but we're bulletproof I know places (Hide) and you know for me, it's always you I know places (I) in the dead of night, your eyes so green I know places (Hide) and I know for you, it's always me I know places” - I Know Places by Taylor Swift

Derek had moved in with him several months ago and there were logistical problems right from day one. Not that Stiles didn’t love having him there, but the apartment was very small, probably too small to be hiding a wanted fugitive, and whenever he had people over Derek had to hide away in the bedroom for fear of being seen.

Their friends wouldn’t turn Derek in, of course, but they hadn’t been exactly… open. About their relationship, up until this point. They had been together for almost two years and still no one knew about it.

It wasn’t like Stiles to keep secrets, especially from Scott, and in general he was terrible at it anyway. But it was really hard to tell your best friend you were in a steady, loving relationship with the man of your dreams when he was still pining for the girl he had tragically lost a handful of years before.

Besides which, the fox in Stiles privately liked that he had something special to keep to himself, no matter how inconvenient it was in reality. It was the part of himself that urged him to squirrel things away for himself, to keep all the precious things in his life close and safe. He was still getting used to those instincts, even years after the Nogitsune had left him with a bit of fox behind (okay a lot of fox behind.)

But also… there was a little bit of fear there, raw and animalistic, at the thought of being discovered. Something that he couldn’t explain or really even understand, but which was there nonetheless, and it was stupid . God, even Jackson was out! But Stiles had never actually told anyone he was bisexual before (aside from Derek, obviously) and the thought just… yeah. Yikes.

On top of that, his last relationship had been with Lydia, and after that had ended (badly), he just kind of… guarded his heart. What he had with Derek was good and going public was a risk he just wasn’t sure he was ready to take.

“You’re doing that thing where you stare at the ceiling like it’s got all the answers of the universe again.”

“Huh?” Stiles blinked out of his thoughts and turned his head to look at Derek, who was seated cross-legged next to him on the bed, hunched over his laptop, illuminated by the screen, working on either his newest article or his book. 

For obvious reasons Derek couldn’t hold down a regular job, so he wrote articles for publication online and was working on a novel in his spare time, all under the pseudonym “Tyler Shaw”, since he couldn’t use his real name. It didn’t bring much money in, but between that and Stiles’ job at the bakery cafe they managed to scrape by. (The FBI Academy? Well that… just hadn’t been a “good fit”, as his Dad liked to say. Apparently it was frowned upon for trainees to be as… insubordinate as he tended to be. The upshot of going , though, even if just for two semesters, was that he had met some of the most interesting people, a few of which Stiles figured he would be friends with for life.)

“Still staring, but now at me. And we both know I don’t have all the answers of the universe.”

“I– sorry.” Stiles shook his head, “just thinking.”

Derek grinned. “That’s always trouble.”

Stiles shot him a look with a frown, “not always .” (But often, definitely often.) “I was just thinking ,” he continued, ignoring the amused look in Derek’s eyes, “that I might invite Steve and Jaskier to come visit sometime soon. Just for a few days… I mean, if they can sneak away from the Academy for that long.”

“Mmhm.” Derek rumbled, and set his computer aside to ease himself up against Stiles’ side, one hand coming to rest against the younger man’s sternum, just feeling the rise and fall of his breath. “And where are we going to put them? This place is barely big enough for the two of us, never mind four .”

“They can sleep on the couch, it pulls out!” Stiles groused, “and besides, Jaskier has no concept of personal space.” Though he supposed Steve did , in all fairness. “Look,” a touch frustrated, he frowned up at Derek where he was leaning over him, “I know your werewolf possessiveness would love for me to just stay here alone with you all the time, but I…”

Trailing off, Stiles lifted his left arm and turned it over to show the pair of concentric circles that were tattooed on his inner wrist. The symbol of Scott’s pack– of his pack.

“You need more than that.” Derek finished for him, a tiny smile tugging at his lips.

Stiles looked up at him and, after a moment, let his True Eyes shine through, bright, almost glowing green. Derek responded by allowing his own eyes to shine, beautiful, luminescent blue, and then leaning down to kiss him firmly, decisively. “Invite your friends. We’ll squeeze them in somehow. But if they rat me out to the FBI, you’re the one that’s going to have to clean up the mess, deal?”

Stiles grinned and dragged him back down for another kiss. “Deal.”

~*~*~

Markets weren’t really Stiles’… thing. Farmers’ markets, crafters’ markets, seasonal markets, whatever. He found them innately boring (even if they were a good place to procure seasonal fruits and vegetables.) But Derek loved them and it was the time of year when they were popping up everywhere so Stiles relented and went to a few, just to make his boyfriend happy. And it did – make Derek happy, that is. He wandered around the markets they went to with a little, content smile on his face that could only make Stiles smile, too, and… okay. Maybe markets weren’t so bad after all.

It was funny, how things had kind of slowly progressed to Happy Derek over the course of their relationship. When they had first gotten together, he had been his usual grumpy self, and that had continued on, with a few short glints of lightheartedness here-and-there, for the months that they had been dating while Stiles had still been living in the dorms at the FBI Academy.

Then, when Stiles had eventually called it a day and moved back to Beacon Hills, Derek seemed to brighten and brighten until they were living together and he was just… happy. He smiled. He laughed. He genuinely seemed to enjoy life, and while Stiles was all for Happy Derek it was also somewhat befuddling at times. He wanted to ask, but every time he was about to he chickened out because he wasn’t entirely sure what the answer would be.

Now, though, Derek was looking through an assortment of decorative candles– some of which Stiles was pretty sure were made to look like zombie unicorns – with that little, contented smile on his face, probably browsing for Christmas presents (if Derek got him a zombie unicorn candle for Christmas Stiles thought he might scream.) and Stiles just. Watched him. Probably with the same tiny, happy smile on his own face.

Derek was humming and hawing over a particular candle– this time a cat with three eyes– and Stiles finally reached to catch his free hand, tangling their fingers together and tugging gently. “Hey.”

“Hm?” Derek blinked back to the present to look at him, and Stiles smiled, a real smile, and just leaned up to kiss him gently. Derek made a pleased little noise because Stiles was staunchly against PDA as a general rule, then tilted his head to kiss back with a hum.

Which was when Stiles felt eyes on him.

His hackles up, he pulled away quickly to look around the room–

–only to spot Scott and his mother two aisles down and one over. And Scott was staring at them hard , eyes wide while his Mom was completely oblivious to the entire exchange. Stiles’ eyes darted away, then back, then away again before he grabbed the candle Derek was holding and slammed it back on the table, and followed that up by tightening his grip on the older man’s hand and dragging him out of the vendor’s hall in all but a flat-out run.

“Wha– Stiles! ”

He didn’t even know if the startled voice calling his name came from Derek or Scott.

That was why Stiles didn’t do PDA.

~*~*~

“Did you at least apologize?” Steve seemed sympathetic, a few days later when he and Jaskier were crammed into Stiles’ and Derek’s tiny apartment, seated on the couch while Stiles lamented his story. Jaskier had no sympathy, instead grinning and giggling to himself because– well, because that was how Jaskier was, he supposed.

“He did.” Derek called from the kitchen where he had been working on dinner and incidentally eavesdropping, “apologize, that is. And we made up.”

Stiles had to grin at that. “ Vigorously .”

Jaskier snickered and Steve rolled his eyes and shoved at Stiles’ shoulder. Then he hesitated before asking, “okay, but not like, here , right, on the pull-out?”

“Who are you kidding, Stevie?” Jaskier laughed, “they’ve fucked on every surface of this apartment and you know it.”

Stiles just shrugged.

“Ew.” Steve commented, before adding, “and don’t call me that, Jask.”

“Ah, right, I almost forgot that dearest Agent Barnes is the only one permitted to call you that.” A grin, and Jaskier continued with, “how sad is it that all three of us have a passionate thing for older men?” Then, with a tiny pout; “and how tragic that you two have managed to snag yours, while I appear destined to pine away forever~?”

That got a quick look between Stiles and Steve because, to them , at least, it was incredibly obvious that Agent Rivia was interested. Jaskier just wasn’t seeing the signs, and neither of them knew how to tell him beyond literally smacking him up the back of the head. At this point it was kind of an unspoken thing between Stiles and Steve that they would keep their noses out of things and let Jaskier and Rivia work it out for themselves. (After all, everything had worked out for them , right?)

From the kitchen, Derek cleared his throat and interjected, “you could always start sending him random, weird gifts from the Internet in the mail.”

Jaskier and Steve both rolled their eyes, but Stiles grinned. “Worked for me!”

“I still have that shirt, too.”

“I know, you wore it last time I was mad at you.”

“Worked like a charm.”

Stiles found himself smiling fondly over toward the kitchen until Steve swatted his arm to catch his attention again. “Anyway,” The blond sighed, “what are you going to do about the whole…” Trailing off for a second, he gestured vaguely between Stiles and Derek before finishing, “I mean, you can’t keep it a secret forever… right?”

Stiles bristled for the briefest second. Then he sighed and looked down, picking absently at his jeans as he tried to come up with an answer that would satisfy his friends and not upset Derek at the same time.

“I’ve been thinking about that.”

Brown eyes lifted from the worn jean almost sheepishly. ���Hm?”

Derek came out into the living room, wiping his hands on a towel as he did, to stand and look down at Stiles, expression worried and contemplative. “I’ve figured out by now that you’re not comfortable with other people knowing we’re together.” A pause, then; “except these assholes, for some reason?” He chuckled along when everyone else laughed. “But it’s been over a year since I moved in here with you, and we were dating– sort of– for months before that, too.”

Stiles wasn’t a hundred percent sure he liked where this was going, but he just nodded along anyway.

A sigh and Derek gave Steve and Jaskier an apologetic smile. “Could you guys give us some privacy for a couple minutes?”

Steve and Jaskier exchanged a glance– and then Jaskier popped to his feet and hauled Steve up with him. “No problem, we can go for a walk!” Dragging Steve over to the door, he added over his shoulder, “but we’ll be like, fifteen minutes, max, so we’d better not walk back in on anything gross!”

Steve squawked and barely managed to call out “We’ll knock!” before the door shut behind them.

And without them there, Stiles felt trapped. They were about to have a conversation that he had been avoiding for the better part of two years and he wasn’t sure he was particularly prepared for it now.

Luckily, Derek made it short and painful. He sat down next to Stiles and leaned to kiss by the younger man’s jaw gently. “The werewolf in me might want to keep you in my own pack,” he informed, and damn him for using Stiles’ own words against him; “but I also want to be able to show you off. You’re my mate, for all intents and purposes, and I want people to know that. I’m proud of it.”

Stiles stared at him, flabbergasted. When he finally found his words it was to blurt out “but I’m a fox !”

Derek snorted. “I’d noticed. But I knew that before we ever got together and it didn’t stop me. Also I scent mark you constantly ,” to make his point he leaned in to rub his jaw along Stiles’ with a rumble, “did you never wonder why I did that?”

“‘Cause you’re a weirdo.” Stiles grumbled petulantly. And then; “I didn’t say stop.”

Another little snort. Derek nibbled along his jaw and then buried his face in the crook of Stiles’ neck. “I’m possessive and I want people to know you’re mine. And Scott and the others, they won’t mind , you know that…”

“Do I know that? I’ve always been so into girls, like intensely into girls , at least as far as everyone else is concerned.” Stiles brought one hand up to card his fingers through Derek’s hair and the wolf practically purred at his touch, “not even Scott knows I’m bi.” Then, after a beat, “until a few days ago. I guess.”

Not that he thought Scott would run around telling everyone what he saw but it still made nerves squirm in his stomach at the thought.

“I think we should stop hiding.” Derek’s voice was muffled against Stiles’ shirt, “you know Lydia’s Christmas Party that we’re all invited to? I think we should go together, as a couple.”

Stiles stomach straight-up flipped upside down, but… Derek had a point. It would be nice to be out of hiding. And telling all of their friends at the same time would be convenient, at least. The party was a good idea.

“I guess… okay.” Stiles allowed after a moment’s thought, still playing with Derek’s hair, “but if it goes bad, it’s on you.”

He could feel Derek smile against the crook of his neck. “If it goes bad I’ll wear that shirt for you again.”

Stiles laughed . “Okay, deal.”

~*~*~

“Faith and Renfri are pissed they didn’t get to come.” Jaskier laughed without looking up from his phone as he texted back and forth between the two women in question. He was standing by the front door with his backpack slung over one arm, waiting for Steve to finish throwing his stuff in his own back so they could catch the next bus to Quantico.

“They can come next time.” Stiles bargained, “we can have a girls’ weekend.”

Jaskier feigned offense, “without me? ”

“Without~ you~!” Stiles singsonged, even as he was giving Steve one last hug goodbye and ushering them both out the door.

“Good luck!” Steve called over his shoulder.

Stiles smiled and waved. Yeah he was going to need it.

~*~*~

The night of the party Stiles honestly thought he was going to hyperventilate until he passed out and Derek had to calm him down on two separate occasions, once wrapping him up in a tight hug and the other staring into his eyes until the blue soaked right through him and eased him back to normal.

Eventually he did manage to get dressed and out the door, though the walk to Lydia’s place just amped his nerves up again until, by the time they arrived, he was nervous and twitchy– so basically his normal self. Derek took his hand, threaded their fingers together tightly, and tugged him along inside. 

When Lydia answered the door her eyes darted between the two of them, then down to their clasped hands– and then she just smiled widely and ushered them inside where–

–oh shit that was literally everyone, wasn’t it.

The party kind of ground to a halt for a second as everyone turned to look at them and Stiles began to panic, until Derek released his hand and slid an arm around him instead, his hand coming to rest on Stiles’ hip as they stood in the doorway and Stiles tried not to make eye contact with anyone. He resisted the urge to huddle into Derek’s side and looked around until he found– there. Scott. Scott smiling . Oh thank God. Okay.

And then from somewhere in the back of the room, Jackson’s voice called out “I FUCKIN’ CALLED IT! ”

“JACKSON!” Lydia protested loudly, “YOU DON’T GET TO TALK!”

And just like that, the tension melted away from Stiles and he did lean into Derek, just a little, before looking up at him with a smile. “Let’s go in.”

Derek leaned down to kiss him. “Yeah,” he agreed, “let’s go in.”

[1moreff-creator]

Hey, it’s me again. As I’m finishing up the script for the LGI analysis video I’m working on (which I’ve been writing as I edit), I’ve come to a point where I have to make a decision. And I want Tumblr’s input, since a lot of you are way more passionate about this stuff than I am.

The issue is, what should I do with tally 5?

Because obviously I have to talk about it, but I don’t know how far I should go. There are two things I’m sure of. I won’t put the image in the video, if nothing else so no one gets spoiled by hovering over the runtime bar, and I’ll give hints so anyone who wants to try to figure it out themselves can try.

After that comes the big question: after giving the hints, and after giving people a moment to pause and go try to figure out the code themselves, should I just say the solution? As in, just tell people how to do it step by step, and show the final string of characters you get when doing that?

Now, I’m aware the creators didn’t want us leaking the image or the code, but here’s the thing. If someone really doesn’t want to or can’t decipher the code themselves, they’re just going to look up the image, which has already been leaked in a few places. If I explain the solution in the video, at least they’ll know how we got the answer we got, instead of just pasting a code on the website or seeing the image without the reasoning.

And the people on Youtube, from what I’ve seen, generally aren’t as… obsessive, as the people on Tumblr. The most recent comments on the LGI MV video are still talking about extremely elementary stuff, and youtuber Ocean Unknown (who I love and whose videos I definitely recommend) recently claimed the “correct/incorrect” code hadn’t even been solved yet, to give you an idea of the disconnect. Most of the people there either don’t want to or don’t have the time to figure out the code.

And my video is meant to be for everyone, even the people who have remained completely separated from this kind of speculation.

Again, I will give hints first, and I will encourage people to figure out the puzzle themselves. But realistically, not everyone will. So I feel it’s better to at least explain the solution, instead of having them go and find the image with no further context.

It’s also important to keep in mind, the video won’t be out for a while. I can’t give an estimate on how long it’s gonna take, but at the very earliest it would be released at the middle/end of September, more likely around October. I’ve never been part of this type of ARG-adjacent stuff, but usually people, like, stop being secretive about this stuff at some point, right? Again, don’t know how it works, or what the time frame is to go from “don’t leak the solution” to “talk openly about the solution” usually is, so please correct me if I’m wrong.

So yeah, I’m indecisive. Just because other people leaked the code, doesn’t mean I get free reign to do it. I personally feel it’s a good compromise to give hints, encourage looking for the solution, then and only then give the reasoning for the answer, but again, I don’t feel qualified to make the final call, since I wasn’t as passionate about the code back when everyone was still trying to figure it out.

The other option is to not give the answer at all, only give the hints. And that comes with the other question: should I even talk about the image? If I give the answer, obviously yes, but even if I don’t, I feel like I still would have to talk about the image. I’ve already talked about it in other posts. But that sort of makes the whole “hiding the answer” sort of redundant, if I then just talk about it.

So I’m leaving it up for a poll. Here’s how it’s gonna work.

•Option 1 is to only give hints, don’t give the solution, and don’t even talk about the image.

•Option 2 is to give hints, but not the solution, yet still talk about the image.

•Option 3 is to first give hints, then explain the solution, then talk about the image. For this one to win, it needs to get over 50% of the vote. So I’ll only talk about the solution if most people want me to, and if they don’t, then I’ll decide what to do based on the percentages of the first two options.

So, uh, here’s the poll. Take care!

[seancekitsch]

Scary Movies: Klaus x Reader fic

for @sheehalloween​

sequel to: I was Never Young

Warnings: cursing, references to dead musicians, takes place directly after the you look like death series but not really spoiling it, smooching a little but otherwise very tame for me

Are you sure this is a good movie?” Klaus asks, perturbed, because he actually spend his own money on a ticket. You only told him this was a great horror movie and that screenings of it were rare. Its two in the afternoon on a hot Los Angeles afternoon.

You would have offered to get his ticket, but you thought the look on his face when you snapped and you ticket materialized was funnier. He’s still not used to your snapping thing, something you don’t even have a name for, but his amazement is enough to encourage you to keep doing it. 

You’ve figured out his upbringing, you know who he is now, but you don’t say anything. Klaus will say something when he wants to, you assume.  You snap again to materialize a singular twizzler, and smirk at him as you place it in the soda you had him buy for you. This isn’t a date, there’s no reason for it to be. But it also isn’t a date. You’re both a little nervous for no reason and he’s paying for things when you know his money is going to dry up sooner rather than later.

The theater is completely empty, and the silver screen is still blank, perfect.

This is your favorite moment.

Klaus leads you to the back of the house and chooses seats directly in the middle.

“When—“ he stops, chews a bit of popcorn, “When my siblings and I used to sneak out and see movies, we figured out this was the best spot to sit! You can— you can see everything.”

You nod, biting off the top of your twizzler so you can use it as a straw. Of course it’s the best spot, and of course his family didn’t know that.

“You know why this is my favorite part of going to the cinema?” you ask him. Klaus fully turns his body towards you, giving you his full attention.

“Because before anything starts it’s just you and all the raw materials. You, the seats, the screen, the film canisters in the projection room.”

“That’s poetic,” Klaus laughs. His hairs gotten longer since the hot dog experience, and you think it suits him.

Another person, a lone man, comes in and takes a seat down closer to the screen.

“Damn, guess we can’t go at it in the back row now!” Klaus jokes, and you almost spit out your coke.

“Was that an option?” you ask, incredulous. And all he does is shrug as if to say he was down with whatever. You certainly hadn’t thought of him like that, and yet, now maybe you will. Something about the power of suggestion.

You have to nip that conversation in the bud, however, because the lighting dims and bathes you both in darkness. Klaus shifts down in his seat and prepares for the scariest movie he’s ever seen.

The projector whirrs to life and the film illuminates the screen.

“I thought you said this was a scary movie!” Klaus gasped when he realized what was playing. He leans over to you, intoxicatingly close, but you don’t lean back in.

“Gone with the Wind is scary. Look at how many slavers there are.”

Both of you cackle as loud as possible, and the one and only other person in the theater turns and glares at you both.

You run out of the theater laughing messes, tugging on each others sleeves and panting as you dart out of there. The intersection is weirdly empty when you exit, despite the lights of La Cienega at this hour.

“Have I ever shown you where I’m staying?” Klaus asks, but he knows he hasn’t. You’ve only met up thrice now since first meeting, and only in public.

You agree, and walk down the boulevard, your diet coke in its death throes and twizzler dying to finally be eaten. He stops at an intersection, and points across the street.

“Home sweet home!” he calls.

“That’s where you’re staying? That place?”

“Yeah, why? You know it?”

Before you is the legendary Alta Cienega Motel, green and beige and completely unassuming attached to a psychic’s parlor. 

“Are you kidding? You know what this. place was?” You're mind boggled that out of all of the things he knows, the wild random history and trivia, he doesn't know what this place is.

He cocks an eyebrow at you as you move closer to the building, urging you to continue. 

“Its only the last place in America Jim Morrison lived before he kicked it early!”

Klaus freezes in the crosswalk. 

Jim? His Jim? The lead singer of his favorite band.

“W-What room?”

“Thirty Two. I can't believe you haven't seen the shrine!”

He hadn't. He’d only seen the revolving door of people in and out of the room three doors down from his, sometimes twenty people in a day. He figured it was some kind of sex work operation and payed it absolutely no mind. Not his business. He’d only been thinking of Jim Morrison the whole time he’d been there, about mortality and his own gifts. He doesn't ever want to meet the man eternally eight years older than him. He’d already met enough heroes in this town and doesn't think he can take another. 

Its cute, the way he looks so dumbstruck. You grab his hand and pull him the rest of the way across the street towards his makeshift housing situation. He stumbles ahead and leads you up the little concrete staircase, passing the infamous room turned shrine on your way. Your neck cranes to keep looking at it, as if it calls to you like a beacon. 

“C’mon, scary movies my ass, I’ll find one for you...” Klaus mutters as he jingles the key in the lock, a dinky little pink puff ball adorning the key as well as the standard motel branded key fob. 

You're giddy as he gets the door open, a light electrical current growing beneath your skin as he pulls you in. The western sunset casting the entire room in an orange glow. Theres not much in the room that make it Klaus, but this just reminds you again that he’s a drifter in this town, unlike you who’d snagged in the canyon and never been free. A few crumpled take out wrappers, a full ash tray, a leather jacket, and a very fuzzy scarf thats incredibly out of season. 

“Make yourself cozy!” He calls, crossing the room to the small tv cabinet near the bed. You sit yourself at the little wooden table and snap yourself a cigarette to light while he plops himself down and crosses his legs in front of the screen. You take a deep drag while you watch him fiddle with all the buttons, fingers moving quickly and deftly as he tunes to box to what he’s looking for.

“Ah-hah! Found it, and it’s not too far into it!” He waves you over hastily, and you drop the cigarette and your soda to get closer. It’s the original night of the living dead, grainy and black and white on the old set. Probably edited for television, but its better than you idea, you have to admit. 

Klaus pulls you down to sit on the floor next to him, your thigh touching his knee and he leans his cheek on your shoulder.

“This ones my favorite,” he mumbles against you. His mouth is up against the fabric of your shirt, and you can feel it like a kiss .

“Mine too, I think,” you agree. Its not, but if you can figure out why exactly its his, it might become yours too. 

You watch most of the rest of the movie like that, sat on the floor and leaning into one another as the zombies start to take over. 

“Fuck, wait get up for a second,” you whisper in the now dark of dusk, your legs getting stiff as you move to sit on the bed, stretching your legs out straight before relaxing them. Klaus is quick to climb up on the bed after you, but he doesn't settle down right away. Instead, he just crouches and lets the glow from the movie illuminate his face.

“What’s up?” you ask, tilting your head slightly puzzled. 

“I...” he trails off, and then suddenly his lips are on yours.

Klaus’ lips are soft, if not a little scarred from him chewing on them, a habit you'd noticed of his when he doesn't have a drink or a smoke in his hand. He’s gentle, almost timid about the kiss. 

He pulls away slowly, as if wanting to hold onto the moment. His eyes remain closed as his lips, puffy, remain pursed. His eyes open, and that look in his eyes that tells you he needs a cigarette fills his irises. He yanks himself back, looking slightly scared.

“Wait,” you beg, and pull him back in for a second kiss. The second kiss, he’s more sure of himself. Klaus kisses back firmly, not roughly, but not as gentle as before. 

When he pulls away this time, he doesn't look panicked, he just leans himself back against your shoulder and turns his attention to the tv again. 

“Fuckin’ Gone with the Wind...” He chuckles. 

Fuckin’ Gone with the Wind, indeed.

[nuri148]

Do you mind if I ask your top 10 favorite characters (can be male or female) from all of the media that you loved (can be anime/manga, books, movies or tv series)? And why do you love them? Sorry if you've answered this question before.....Thanks....

Hi Anon! Thank you so much for the ask! No, I hadn’t been asked this before.

It was quite hard to come up with 10 names for, outside of my current blorbos, throughout my life (which is quite longer than that of most people around this site) I’ve consumed and loved a lot of fiction, and so I’ve loved many characters, but also many of them I fell in love when I was too young to know (or remember) why I liked them, or know anything about characterization at all.

Still, I tried to cover a wide variety of works/genres, which as I racked my brains came with some interesting revelations:

- The first characters that came to mind were all males. It took me an extra effort to recall some female characters that I love.

- The list is white af. This can be for a number of reasons, all related to complex societal dynamics, cultural constructs and how the media portrays or ignores this. This is meant a light hearted ask, so I won’t delve into that, but I did want it to make clear that yes, I’m aware this list lacks diversity.

Some of these media I haven't seen for years so apologies if my memory of some details is not very accurate.

Last but not least, as I don’t like the reductionism of “top x”, I am listing with bullets for these come in no particular order. (Except Levi, of course; as current top Blorbo he could actually fill the top 10 by himself.)

Levi Ackerman (AoT) – He kicks ass, he’s a no-nonsense guy, he’s got a rough exterior but it’s a kind person. He’s had a shitty life but he chooses to be the good guy, even if he has to resort to violence sometimes.

Severus Snape (HP) – I said it already and I’ll say it again that I’ve no proof and no doubt that if you were a Snape fangirl, you’ll be a Levi fangirl. Snape makes Levi look like Miss Congeniality in comparison. He too had a rough life,went over to the dark side, yet realised he’d fucked up big time and spent the rest of his life trying to minimize the damage his actions had caused. PLUS he’s a huge nerd.

Mike Ehrmentraut (BB/BCS) – Mike is SO OVER being a badass. He just wants to live a quite life spoiling his grandaughter. His curse is being too good at what he does, and he can’t help but care about the idiots that would die if he wasn’t there to clean their messes. (On the topic of diversity... Honorable mention for Stanley from The Office and Lester from The Wire, whose “I’m too old for this shit” vibes give me life).

Arya Stark (GOT) – She didn’t stay around suffering for her losses nor went into a rampage, nope. She took the long scenic route to become a pro killer to serve her revenge in a cold dish.

Heidi (from the 70's anime series)– Hands down my first and oldest Blorbo. She lived in the mountains, roamed barefoot on beautiful meadows, was friends with a bunch of goats and all the little critters of the alps. What’s not to love? (At the ripe age of 3, I would make my mum buy me goat cheese bc if Heidi ate it, so must I. At 4 my parents took me to the mountains in winter so I could see the snow and the fir trees that Heidi loved. We’re rewatching now and my new Heidi Blorbo is Joseph the dog, he’s got big Mike Ehrmentraut energy).

Jesse Pinkman (BB)– He’s a good guy who fell into the wrong path. He’s had rotten luck, partly brought onto himself through bad choices and poor judgement, yet he still tries to do good and craves some love.  

Petunia Dursley (HP)- Harry's unlikable aunt kinda grew on me over the years, as we saw some of her backstory and how it resonated with parts of my own family history. She grew up knowing herself the lesser child and I believe she never got a chance to smooth things over with Lily. In spite of which P. still cared enough to do the right thing and take charge of Harry (horribly, admittedly).

Omar Little (The Wire) - I don't usually like "bad" characters but Omar was more badass than he was bad. Circumstances made him a violent criminal but he I believe he had redemption potential. Also, how cool is it that he was unequivocally gay in a setting where everyone tends to be so macho... but of course no one would say anything about it. bc it's Omar.

Peter - he's the MC and first person narrator from a rather unknown Ray Bradbury's short story titled “I’m not so dumb” which is one of my favourite Bradbury's tales. Like the title suggests, as the story unfolds the simple-minded Peter will try to show his neighbours that he's not that stupid.

Mafalda - I could not leave out the title character of the (likely) most famous comic in Argentine history. Mafalda's concern for world affairs is of course unrealistic, but it does sort of put those call-outs "in the mouth of babes".

[qzwrites]

Ayla’s Side part 3

Two years after the shipwreck, Mara and Nic got married. Ayla wondered how obvious it was to everyone else that Nic was humoring Mara. After all, it wasn't like anything changed after the wedding. They'd been living together since the shipwreck, and having sex since they got back from the church's prison island. But it was a good excuse for a party, and Mara was excited about being married. Danny and Chiamaka worked for weeks to make fancy suits for Nic and Mara, and Nan bullied Ayla into letting her make Ayla a new dress.

Ayla was not especially surprised to find Nic drawing up expansion plans for their house shortly thereafter. Not for the common room they'd discussed when ze first built Ayla's room, but for a nursery attached to zeir and Mara's bedroom.

"Something I should know?" she asked, startling zem.

Nic spun around on zeir stool to face Ayla, blushing. "No," ze said. "I mean, not yet. That is, we haven't talked about it, but...Mara obviously wants kids."

That was true. Some of the traders who brought the village things like fabric in exchange for the products of the mine and village sailed around with their whole families in a sort of flotilla, a traveling marketplace, and Mara had immediately attached himself to the gang of children and their minders. The traders had been delighted to have a non-family adult to look after their kids while they were in port, and Mara had shamelessly used his powers to entertain them. The trader kids found it endlessly entertaining to watch Mara chop down trees without an axe and turn stones to powder in mid-air. He let them crawl all over him, and walked around more than once each visit with three or four kids literally hanging off him.

Possibly because he was technically younger than some of the children, and had asked the questions himself recently, Mara was very good at explaining things to them. He taught one of the kids how to do fire magic, which Ayla had never seen Mara use outside of his little spark trick, and which the child's family had been astonished by, because they hadn't realized any of their kids had magical talent.

(Mara had stared at the gathered adults, then pointed out several of them who he said also had magical potential, and asked if they wanted him to teach them as well.)

The week after the seafaring marketplace left, Mara went around asking everyone in the village questions about when their parents had them and how many children were with them in the villages they grew up in. It was, in fact, obvious he wanted children.

"Do you want kids?" Ayla asked Nic.

"He was so cute with them," Nic said, blushing deeper. "And if we want this village to survive, we've got to start having kids. We're the only couple out of the survivors, so it makes sense for us to start."

"Don't have kids for the good of the village," Ayla said, frowning. "If you don't want them, I'm sure Mara would be just as happy being a nosy uncle."

Nic laughed, and said, "I don't think there's any way to avoid that. As soon as anyone else has children, he's going to be spoiling them rotten. But..." Ze rubbed the back of zeir neck and failed to meet Ayla's eyes. "You know, one reason I never bothered to tell my parents I didn't especially want to be a girl is that I did always want children. I didn't want them to think they wouldn't have grandchildren."

That didn't actually make much sense, but Ayla knew Nic's parents had been killed years before her own village was raided. Nic wouldn't have been that old. Ayla did the math once, and Nic had been around fifteen when zeir parents died. Ayla knew she hadn't exactly been good at articulating herself to her family at fifteen. She hadn't been able to get them to believe she was never going to be interested in sex until she was eighteen. Before that, they all insisted she was still too young, she hadn't met the right person, she would change her mind, and so on. The grandchildren thing had certainly been part of it for them.

"Okay, good," Ayla said. "I didn't really want to try and figure out a way to kick Mara's ass if he was pressuring you."

Nic laughed. "Ayla," ze said, "if he thought you had a point, he'd just let you."

"Ugh, he would," Ayla said, and rolled her eyes. "It is disgusting how much he loves you. Hey, Chiamaka'll be thrilled she finally gets to show off her midwife training."

"Oh, I forgot about that," Nic said. "That is good. Especially since Mara's magical prodigy status doesn't extend to healing magic."

"We should probably start making baby clothes and collecting rags for diapers," Ayla said. "Real diaper linen would be best, obviously, but I haven't seen any in the ships that have come by. Of course, I wasn't looking."

"Oh, babies do make way more mess than adults, or even bigger kids," Nic said. Ze pursed zeir lips and frowned. "I wish we could get a hold of some flax or hemp seed."

"That's still a lot of processing work," Ayla said. "Although, I bet Mara wouldn't mind the breaking or scutching."

"Yeah, I don't think he could help with weaving or spinning, but beating grass until it's fiber is right up his alley," Nic said. Ze drummed zeir fingers on the desktop. "Isn't hemp basically a weed? Why haven't we found any?"

"The Arizedoans used to burn flax fields," Ayla said. "Maybe they burned hemp too."

"Still," Nic said, "you'd think some would have survived."

"We should ask the next traders who come through," Ayla said. "Being able to make our own fabric and better rope would be very helpful."

Nic frowned. "You know," ze said slowly, "I think I've heard about people making fabric from nettles. There's plenty of those in the marshy parts of the forest."

"Is that safe?" Ayla asked.

"The stingy parts should only be on the outside of the plant," Nic said. "I'm sure once you're retting it, it's just like linen or hemp."

That made sense. Plenty of plants with spiny stalks were edible, after all. "We could probably get Mara to gather some," Ayla said. "I'm sure he can just decide not to get stung."

"I bet he can," Nic said. "Awful."

"Terrible," Ayla agreed. "How could you marry such a monster?"

"I have it on good authority that I need supervision," Nic said, and Ayla laughed.

*

Ayla was laying mostly on top of Mara with her head on his chest, his arms wrapped solidly around her waist, when the door swung open and Nic walked in. Ayla stiffened and tried to jerk out of Mara's arms, but he held her fast.

Nic didn't appear to notice. Ze kicked off zeir boots and wrung out zeir hair over the rag rug, then tromped across the room to the bed.

"Everything go okay?" Mara asked, as if nothing was out of the ordinary. Like he had not even the slightest qualm about his spouse finding him naked and holding another person in their bed.

"Technically," Nic said with a shrug. "Could've gone better, but it could've gone worse, too. Ayla," ze said, proving that ze had not somehow failed to notice Ayla sprawled across zeir husband, "do you mind if I take the rest of my clothes off? I don't want to get the bed wet."

"It's your bed," Ayla said.

"You're in it right now," Nic said, already pulling off zeir shirt. "Seems like it's relevant to you."

Ayla didn't know what to say to that.

Nic shimmied out of zeir damp trousers, then crawled under the quilt without throwing it back and exposing Ayla and Mara to the chill air. "Oh," ze said, brushing against Ayla's back. Zeir hand was cold. "You're warm." Ze pressed up against Ayla's side, wrapping an arm around her waist, clasping Mara's forearm where they met.

Ayla asked, "You're not at all bothered by me being naked in Mara's arms?"

"Should I be?" Nic asked. "I mean, it's not like you're a stranger."

Ayla huffed. Again, she felt that mix of reassurance and resentment. No, obviously her being naked in Mara's arms with her face on his bare chest didn't mean she was going to have sex with him. She wouldn't do that to either of them even if she was any more interested in sex now than she had been at the height of puberty. Still, the automatic dismissal of the possibility rankled.

"I told you there's always a place for you in our bed," Mara said. "However you want it."

Ayla flushed. She knew he didn't mean that the way it sounded, but it still sounded pretty nice. Not to do, but to have the option. She wished she could believe him.

"Oh," Nic said, sounding embarrassed. So ze heard it, too. Then ze said, "Yeah, of course," and kissed the back of Ayla's shoulder. Ayla's flush deepened, because she knew Nic did know what ze was offering. Did ze realize they weren't on the same page with this? Ze said, "I just assumed you wanted that sweet skin-to-skin cuddling."

"I did," Ayla said. "I just...it wouldn't be weird for you to be upset. Coming home and finding your husband naked in bed with someone else."

"Again," Nic said, "you're not a stranger. You're our best friend. Even if you wanted to seduce Mara, I don't think you'd feel the need to steal him."

Ayla hid her face in Mara's chest. He chuckled. Maybe he did know what it sounded like, after all.

Nic snuggled closer against Ayla's back, pressing against her so ze could stretch over to get a kiss from Mara. "This is nice," ze said, settling back down. "Have you done this before?"

"Yeah," Mara said.

"Mm," Nic said. "Good. I'm too busy to give Mara all the cuddles he wants."

"If we let him hang off one of us around the clock, he still wouldn't have as much cuddles as he wants," Ayla said, making them both laugh.

"Indiyit didn't know it," Mara said, "but the point of a physical form is to get hugs."

"You are going to be the most overbearing dad," Ayla muttered.

"Honestly part of why I figured we'd be having more than one," Nic said. "He can't smother multiple children at once."

"Don't count on it," Ayla muttered.

"Hey," Mara said. "I'll have to leave the kids alone sometimes. For instance, when I drag one or both of you to bed."

"Don't say it like that," Ayla said, flushing again.

Mara stroked her back. "Don't worry," he murmured, "I'll only drag you to bed for things you want to be dragged to bed for."

"I wasn't worried," Ayla said. A little confused, perhaps, but not worried. Mara hadn't so much as brought up the idea of kissing her since Ayla said she would think about it, and it had been months now. He always asked if Ayla wanted skin contact before he took off any of his clothes. She wouldn't be so confused if he wasn't so considerate. If Ayla thought there was even the slightest possibility of Mara copping a feel, she wouldn't want to do this. But she was secure in the knowledge that he wouldn't do anything without checking first that it was okay with her, which made it much harder to understand why she got so flustered when one of them implied Ayla was in the same category as Nic. She wasn't. She knew that. Nic and Mara were married, were trying to have a baby, and Ayla was just their friend. Their best friend, but still, that was different from a spouse.

"Good," Nic said. Ze took a deep, contented breath, and snuggled in yet closer, draping zeir legs over Ayla's so ze could be against both Mara and Ayla's sides. "This is really nice."

*

Nic didn't actually get a nursery built before ze got pregnant. At least, not one for them. Nan found out she was pregnant shortly after Nic and Mara started trying, and when she decided to keep it, Nic spent all zeir free time trying to make everything Nan might possibly need as a single mother. Even after ze was pregnant as well, Nic devoted far more time to setting things up for Nan than for zemself.

"She doesn't have anyone to help her," Nic said, sitting on the ground with a bucket, weaving bark strips into a sturdy, baby-sized basket. "I've got Mara and you."

"Oh, you just assume I'm going to be helping you?" Ayla joked. She pulled a bark strip out of the bucket and put in another dry one.

Nic rolled zeir eyes, smiling. "Like you could let Mara out-busybody you," ze said.

Which was rude as well as entirely fair.

By the time Nic was heavily pregnant, ze was complaining almost non-stop. Not outside, but around the house where only Ayla and Mara could hear zem. Not that ze didn't also complain when ze was outside the house, but ze was quieter about it, and held in some of the annoyances. Ayla was one of the privileged few to hear Nic whine about every single aspect of pregnancy, from the way zeir feet hurt to the way ze always had to pee, to the way zeir boobs doubled in size and were sore for months on end.

Ayla had to take Mara aside about seven months in and tell him to stop fussing so much. "I know ze's not usually like this," Ayla said, "but you need to pretend Nic is me for the next couple months." Mara frowned, and Ayla hurried to add, "Ze just needs to complain. You're not going to solve all zeir problems when the problem is 'existing while pregnant'."

"But it's partially my fault," Mara said, looking wretched.

Sometimes Ayla wished Mara hadn't murdered his High Priest/father figure, because it would be so fucking funny for Indiyit to see the avatar of his god looking miserable about not being able to make his pregnant spouse feel better. Ayla put her hands on Mara's biceps, because she couldn't comfortably reach his shoulders without going up on her toes or being right up against his chest. "Mara," she said. "Nic had a good idea what this was going to be like. Ze wanted to do this. Sure, now ze knows it was a mistake, but that doesn't make it less zeir decision. But you're going to have to learn to let people cry it out sooner or later, because you've got a baby on the way. Sometimes folks just need to bitch."

Mara continued to frown. "Chiamaka said it would help if I took care of zem as much as possible," he said.

"Taking care of is different from fussing," Ayla said. "Bringing zem water or rubbing zeir feet is taking care of zem. Dropping whatever you're doing whenever ze makes a noise is fussing. It's not like you can piss for zem."

Mara pouted.

Ayla patted his arm. "I know," she said. "I know it's hard when ze's miserable. But running yourself ragged doesn't help zem. You've gotta take care of yourself, too, because when this baby comes, Nic's going to be out of it for a few days at least. The baby's going to need a parent who isn't completely exhausted."

"That's true," Mara said, although he was still kind of pouting.

"Go get some water from the pump and the tin tub so ze can soak zeir feet if ze wants," Ayla said. "I'll see if we have any more of that juice ze likes in the cold chest. Do nice things, but let zem complain."

"Okay," Mara said. As always, he looked calmer now that he had instructions. Well, instructions he trusted; he didn't exactly look calm when anyone other than her or Nic tried to tell him what to do. He bent down and kissed her forehead. "Thanks, Ayla."

*

Kissing was nice. Chaste, close-mouthed kisses like the ones her parents used to give her were pleasant, which Ayla had already known. She liked it when Nic or Mara kissed her cheek or her forehead. She didn't mind it when Nan or Danny did it, either; although Ayla's friends in her first village had not really done it, it didn't seem like something that would lead to misunderstandings about the nature of their relationship. Ayla rarely initiated it, but she rather liked going in for a hug and coming away with a kiss on the cheek as well.

So it was not surprising that Mara kissing her like that, but on her lips, was also pleasant. The way Mara cradled her head in his hands to do so, like Ayla was something precious, was also nice, although she felt a little guilty about enjoying it. That felt like it was veering into territory that really ought to be reserved for Nic, even if Nic and Mara seemed to disagree.

Ayla was a little surprised to like the way open-mouthed kissing felt. She had much more sympathy for Mara's apparent reluctance to go without it. Their lips moving against each other, their breaths mingling, was intoxicatingly intimate. It made Ayla feel like she was cracked open.

The first time they tried it, she pulled away after only a few moments, and rolled over so her back was to Mara.

"No good?" Mara asked, snuggling into her back.

Ayla shook her head. Too good, she thought but did not say. Even if Mara was sure Nic wouldn't mind, even if they both assured Ayla she was welcome in their bed, they wouldn't think that if they knew how much Ayla wanted it. She couldn't believe this was how everyone felt about their friends, even their best friends. She must be crossing some line, enjoying this the way she did.

But she was only human, and sometimes she thought: if they didn't know, it wouldn't hurt them. So Ayla did sometimes give in to her desire to feel wanted and important, and kissed Mara. Not often, not as much as she wanted to now that she knew how nice it was, but more often than she knew she should.

*

"Ayla," Nic said, a few days after Hari was born. Ze didn't look quite so worn out anymore, but ze was still a far cry from the bright-eyed, enthusiastic tinkerer Ayla was used to. Ze was also still wearing a skirt, which Ayla had expected zem to ditch as soon as possible, because ze only gave in and wore them when zeir trousers would no longer stay up. Nic sighed and said, "I have an embarrassing favor to ask you."

"I'm sure it's not that bad," Ayla said, putting aside her yarn. The crochet wasn't going that well anyway; she wished hadn't completely pulled apart the little demonstration square the old lady had shown her in order to reuse the yarn.

"It's pretty bad," ze said. Ze fidgeted, shifting zeir weight from side to side. "I'd ask Mara to do it, but he just got Hari to sleep, and they're both conked out."

"So it's a toilet thing," Ayla guessed. Nic flushed. Ayla rolled her eyes and said, "Nic, you just gave birth, only a jerk would expect everything to be hunky-dory down there."

"Okay, yeah," Nic said, although ze still blushed a bit. "I have to poop and I'm going to need help cleaning up."

"Was that so hard?" Ayla asked. She got to her feet. "Look, all we have to do is give Mara food poisoning or something that gives him the runs, and then I will have cleaned up poop of all three members of your family."

Nic laughed, covering zeir face with one hand. "Ayla!" ze choked out.

"Well you couldn't do it right now, you just had a baby," Ayla said. She grabbed Nic's elbow and looped her arm through it. Ze still looked a little shaky on zeir feet, even before Ayla made zem laugh.

"Thank you," ze said, leaning against Ayla's shoulder.

"Of course," Ayla said.

Thankfully, Nic had thought far enough ahead when ze expanded the toilets that one of them had enough room for an additional person or two. Ze'd been thinking about children who were old enough to be toilet-trained, but not necessarily old enough to go to the toilet unsupervised, but it meant there was room for Ayla to come in to the stall with zem.

Ayla loved Hari, and babies in general, but childbirth itself was an abomination. At least Nic hadn't needed anyone to reach inside zem and tug Hari out, the way sheep sometimes did. Of course, a ewe didn't curse when you helped them clean up after a poop, which they asked you to do.

"There's got to be a better way to do this," Ayla muttered. Nic was sore enough that ze couldn't really bend or stretch properly to wipe zemself clean, and tender enough that ze hissed and flinched every time Ayla tried to do it for zem. Her current method was to wring water out of a rag so it would drip down to the right place, and then dab that away with a second damp rag. That minimized the friction that Nic was so sensitive about, but it was kind of slow and laborious. Especially since this had been the first bowel movement Nic had since Hari's birth, and was therefore extra messy.

"You and Chiamaka figure something out, and I'll draw up plans," Nic said, from between clenched teeth. "I can't just hop in the bath every time I have to...." Ze trailed off.

"If you try to run off to find paper right now I will break your legs," Ayla said.

Nic snorted. "I'm not likely to forget this idea," ze said.

"Hmph," Ayla said. To take both their minds off the fact she was still working on cleaning Nic's ass, Ayla asked, "Did Nan have this problem? Chiamaka said some tearing was normal, but she didn't ask me for any help."

"She didn't have as much tearing," Nic said, because of course ze had compared notes with Nan, "but she still had Chiamaka and Danny help her the first couple days. I mean, she also didn't have my problem with constipation."

"Oh, right," Ayla said. Nan had spent the better part of her pregnancy with everything running right through her. Eli made a joke at dinner one evening about having Nan test out the diaper linen they had tracked down, and Nan had started crying right there. Mara had cheerfully thanked Eli for volunteering to make sure Nan had clean bed linens until the baby came. "Okay," she said, "I think we got it all. Let's go wash our hands."

"I don't know if I should hope I don't need to go again any time soon or not," Nic muttered. Ze let zeir skirt fall back down. "Thank you," ze said, shaking the skirt so it would fall right.

Ayla shrugged. "I would say 'any time', but I would honestly prefer to let this be an 'only when you're sick or hurt' kind of thing," she said.

Nic laughed. "Well, so would I," ze said. "So I think that can be arranged."

[im-a-wonderling]

Eyes, Part 3 ~ Anakin Skywalker

I know this seems a lot like Kenobi, but I swear I had this whole fanfic plotted out before Kenobi came out. Also please don’t spoil anything, I’ve only seen two episodes of the show. 

Warnings: none?

Word count: 2.7k

Eyes Masterlist

Vader only just managed to catch Y/N as she crumpled, and he couldn’t hold back his groan as her weight pulled at his battered body. With great effort, he gently laid her down on the floor, his breath getting even louder and more ragged at the strain.

It was taking him much longer to get used to this suit than he would’ve liked, certainly much longer than it’d taken to get used to his first synthetic hand a few years ago. The technology he had access to now was stuff he could’ve only dreamed of when he was young, and yet nothing made these clunky limbs feel like his old ones. He couldn’t even get out a whole sentence without being winded, having to pause to take a breath in between words. 

Seeing her though…

As he gazed down at Y/N’s face, he could’ve sworn he was back in the Jedi Temple, in his old body, laying beside Y/N in his simple bed, watching her sleep and relishing every moment with her before the dawn came and separated them. Their relationship had been one of secrets and stolen moments in the night, making it—and her—infinitely more precious than anything else he’d ever known. 

Back then, he’d never felt more like himself. 

Now, the hooded nature of her eyes suggested she, like him, hadn’t been getting enough rest. The suspicious looseness of clothes that should’ve fit her well made it obvious that she hadn’t been getting enough sustenance. The godforsaken desert planet on which she’d been hiding wouldn’t have much in the way of food.

He didn’t have to use his imagination to know what that was like. 

He knew he needed to turn around and leave, to allow Y/N to get some rest while he returned to his duties.

But he couldn’t make himself do it.

This was silly, he told himself. She would be in a locked and guarded cell. She couldn’t go anywhere. Whenever he wanted to come see her again, he could.

Nevertheless, his fear of losing her again was overruling everything else.

Only the knowledge that the Emperor would soon want an update could’ve possibly made Vader turn and leave, with only one last longing look. He addressed the stormtroopers. “Remain guard outside the cell. Under no circumstances is anyone to enter that cell except for myself.”

Their lack of an immediate “Yes, Lord Vader” told him they didn’t appreciate or understand the broach in protocol, even if they didn’t dare argue with him. 

He didn’t care.

Y/N had always been strong with the force, and it wouldn’t take much for her to be able to slip into someone’s mind and make them help her escape. And right now, she needed to sleep, not jump ship in the middle of space. 

Without allowing his gait to falter, Vader tried to breathe slowly and gather his wits.

He’d been so scrambled by the sight of her face when she’d realized who he was, he’d forgotten to talk about the thing he’d intended to. The thing at the heart of his mission to find her. 

Now it would have to wait until she’d gotten enough sleep. 

The chatter on the flight deck died immediately when he walked in, everyone dutifully staring at their screens or the floor. 

“Get us to Coruscant,” Vader snapped at the general.

The general stood straighter. “Lord Vader, we suspect the rebels caught wind of the rumor of our capture of Bail Organa. We believe they are currently rallying their forces to–”

“The Emperor,” Vader interrupted, stepping closer to the man, “is expecting us. Do I have to explain what happens to the people who disappoint either of us?”

The general had the good sense to look frightened, and Vader caught the sound of a gulp. “Yes, sir, charting a course for Coruscant.” 

Confident in the general’s ability to take charge from there, Vader stormed out of the flight deck. He needed to find Y/N a real bed and some food. 

-

When you opened your eyes, there wasn’t the least bit of panic in your heart, not even when you saw dark, metal walls instead of the gritty walls of your cave back on Geonosis. 

Whatever force-induced sleep Vader’d put you in, it had been the first dreamless sleep you’d had in months, and you felt better than you could ever remember feeling in the past few months. Not that you were about to thank him for it.

Stars, it was Anakin. Vader was Anakin.

Peace gone, your stomach churned, spurring you into action, because anything was better than sitting still to allow the realization to fully hit you and cause you to fall apart.

You sat up, scanning your surroundings.

You weren’t in a cell anymore, but in a furnished bedroom that was much larger than any bedroom you ever remembered seeing in a ship. When you were onboard a ship during the war, you were lucky if you got to sleep in a bunk.

The bed underneath you was so soft, you were half convinced it was melting underneath you. You could lay in the middle of the bed, extending your arms and legs as wide as you could and still not touch the edges. You’d never been in such a bed, even before your rough bed in the cave on Geonosis. The beds in the Jedi Temple were never this indulgent.

You scooted to the edge, standing on your feet. They were a bit shaky, probably from lack of food, but they supported your weight just fine.

Why had you been left in this room, all by yourself, with no stormtroopers or Vader?

You walked over to the window, staring out at all the stars. Then you squinted. A ship of this magnitude certainly had the capability for traveling through hyperspace…so why wasn’t it?

A question for another time.

Just inside the door rested a change of clothes, neatly folded, and a plate of food. Judging by the curly tendrils of steam emitting from the food, they hadn’t been there long.

You gingerly searched the clothes for a tracker or hidden restraints of some kind, but you couldn’t find anything amiss, so you shrugged out of your stolen garments. But before you could pull on the new clothes, you blinked at the bacta patch on your forearm, covering the blaster wound.

Did you even want to know who’d taken the initiative to search you closely enough to find the injury?

Your skin tingled with revulsion at the idea of Vader searching you while you were unconscious, and you quickly refocused on getting dressed. The plate of food went untouched. There was no way of knowing if something had been put in the food until it was too late, and that was not a risk you were willing to take.

Instead, you sat facing away from the door and closed your eyes.

Before you’d separated, Obi-Wan had warned you of the dangers of meditating while you were on Geonosis, stating that interaction with the force would make it easier for the followers of the dark side to find you, but since you were already trapped…

You didn’t have to sit for long.

The force was waiting.

It embraced you, holding you tight and whispering a greeting.

Where have you been? it asked, caressing your cheek like a loving parent. What took so long for you to come home?

A soft sigh fell unbidden from your lips as you allowed the peace to settle over you, loosening the knots of tension in your shoulders. 

Your lightsaber was green for good reason.

Being a Jedi wasn’t easy, but the spiritual aspect of being a Jedi had always been your home. Before the massacre on the Jedi Temple, you’d been able to spend hours upon hours by yourself, sitting on a mat with your eyes closed.

But your thoughts strayed to Anakin.

What you had endured these past few months while you thought Anakin was dead, that was nothing compared to what you were facing now.

He was alive.

It would’ve been better if he’d died instead of becoming a proclaimed enemy of the Jedi. And yet you couldn’t bring yourself to wish that he had died. Anakin’s presence in your life had always made you toe the line of being a Jedi, because how could the two of you exist and not form an attachment to each other? 

But not being able to wish Vader dead? What kind of a Jedi did that make you? 

The force rested heavy on you, a reassuring presence in the midst of your growing anguish.

In your meditative state, you could feel the dark presence behind you before the door even opened, and you squeezed your eyes tighter as a body stepped into the room.

“You didn’t eat your food.”

The sensation of the force around your body turned probing, and you knew it was trying to warn you. Trusting it, you didn’t say anything. Vader could kill you, but he couldn’t force you into conversation. 

“Why don’t you eat?” His labored breathing made your own chest hurt. “It’ll help your arm heal.” There were no similarities between this voice and Anakin’s. Was there any part of Anakin remaining? The force certainly didn’t think so.

“Y/N.”

Your eyes flew open as your heart gave a feeble jump in your chest. Had you imagined it?

“Y/N,” he said again, quieter, like it was for his own benefit. 

The force continued it’s probing, but you couldn’t listen to it anymore. “Why am I in this room?” you asked, willing to do anything to keep him from saying your name again. “I thought I was a prisoner.” That was a safe enough question.

“You deserve a more comfortable life…than what we were afforded in that temple.”

Your chest twinged. 

The temple that had offered a home to the both of you. The temple where the two of you met and fell in love. The temple where you’d barely escaped from after the Jedi were all but wiped out.

There could be multiple reasons why Vader hadn’t killed you yet, but only one reason why he would provide food, sleep, a room, and a bacta patch.

“I’m not going to join you,” you said to the wall. “And nothing you can do will convince me otherwise.”

Vader’s loaded breathing was the only sound in the small space.

“You can threaten to kill me, and you can try and torture me into submission, but I will never cross that line.”

The sound of Vader’s boots coming closer made your heart rate pick up, so much adrenaline spiking your system that it was difficult to stay still. “If you haven’t agreed to join us…by the time we reach Coruscant…the Emperor will make me kill you.” 

So that was the reason the ship wasn’t traveling through hyperspace. To give Vader more time to persuade you over to the dark side.

“Then I guess you’ll have to kill me,” you replied.

“I know Obi-Wan is still alive…and I know you know where he is…if I can tell the Emperor that you…helped us find him–”

“I won’t.” You promised yourself that no matter what else happened, you’d never reveal that information, no matter what Vader did or said to you. Your gullibility wasn’t going to get Obi-Wan killed too.

“What did he tell you?”

You didn’t need to ask what moment in time Vader was asking about. 

Was it safe to talk about Obi-Wan? Did Vader actually know Obi-Wan was still alive or was he just fishing around for answers, hoping you would confirm his suspicions?

“That night on Mustafar,” you said slowly, “Obi-Wan told me you were dead.”

The sound of Vader’s breathing cut out for a moment. “That explains why you stayed hidden.”

You nearly twisted around to look at him, only stopping yourself at the last moment. “What do you mean?”

“If you’d known I was alive…you would’ve come to find me.”

Your cheeks warmed, and your Jedi upbringing cringed away from the emotion in your chest, just as it always had. You leaned into the force again, which leaned back, steadying you. “You’re right.” You swallowed hard, knowing there was no point in lying. “I would’ve.”

“Obi-Wan thinks he killed me. He cut off my legs and my real arm…and watched as I caught on fire.” You sucked in a breath in spite of yourself, trying not to imagine it. “If not for the Emperor…I would’ve perished.”

Nausea filtered in as you absorbed the information. If this was true, it would explain Vader’s undying loyalty to the Emperor. Having lost his old master and you, Vader had no one else.

You felt something in you snap—maybe your resolve or your heart, but did it really matter which one?—as you finally got to your feet and turned around. 

You had to hand it to the Emperor.

The suit and mask hid everything familiar. You couldn’t even be happy that the yellow eyes were hidden from view because so was everything else. Anakin’s brown curls, his smirk, the scar that cut through his left eye and eyebrow, the arms that had held you, the lips that had kissed yours.

Maybe every one of those things had perished on Mustafar.

“Stay with me,” Vader said softly, and your lower lip wobbled. “You clearly aren’t getting by.”

You folded your arms, trying to shut off the wave of emotion. Jedi couldn’t let their feelings cloud their judgment. “I’m doing just fine, thank you.”

“Brawling in backwater taverns on Geonosis…for money is hardly fine.”

You clenched your jaw to keep it from dropping. How closely had Vader been keeping tabs on you? How long had he known which planet you were hiding on? “And what happens when the emperor tires of me?”

“He wants what’s best for me,” Vader said with absolute conviction. “And what’s best for me…is you.” Your heart fluttered, and you cursed it for its flippancy. “I could take care of you,” Vader pressed. “You will never want for food…or clothing again. You would be safe...and...and we can be together.”

For a moment, you felt your resolve wavering. In spite of yourself, hopes floating through your body like intoxicating perfume. 

These were promises you’d always wanted to hear from Anakin. Promises that he would make because he loved you and wanted to provide for you, to keep you safe and forever by his side.

Promises that contradicted everything the Jedi Order stood for.

The perfume turned to tear gas. 

The only reason he was making you these promises now was because he’d obliterated the Order. The memories of all those Jedi lying slain in the hallway came flooding back. You set your shoulders, feeling as if the beating organ in your heart had hardened into steel. “I will never join you.”

Vader didn’t say anything, and he didn’t move.

His silence only made you realize how hard your heart was beating as you waited. For what? For him to take out his lightsaber and run you through? For him to summon stormtroopers to take you back to the cell? For the ship to jump into hyperspace, swiftly taking you to the Emperor?

Vader finally moved, and you jumped, thinking he was going to come closer to you. But instead, he walked over to the door. “Come with me.”

The door slid open, and Vader walked through it. You caught a glimpse of the stormtroopers waiting outside as Vader started walking down the corridor. When you didn’t follow him, he paused, turning back to face you. 

“Are you going to force me to go with you?” you asked.

“No.”

The stormtroopers exchanged looks. If you could sense their confusion and agitation, you were sure Vader could as well. Yet he just stood still, and even though you couldn’t see his eyes, you knew they were on you. 

You cocked your head at him, wishing you could see his expression. Did he ever take his suit off? Or did he wear it all the time? Did he sleep in it?

Curiosity. 

Not quite a positive emotion, but certainly a reprieve from the barrage of negative emotions from the last few months. 

Your feet shuffled forward. “Where are we going?” you asked, once you’d caught up with him.

Vader turned, leading you down the corridor. “The cafeteria. You need food.”

-

Part 4

Overall tag list:

@thelastpyle @valiantlytransparentwhispers

Eyes tag list:

@idiotreblogger @inpraizeof 

[onlyhereforthestories]

I Think I Found What I Was Looking For (Mapi León x Reader)

Here is the Mapi Easter fic as promised! It is just pure fluff so I hope you all enjoy! Happy Easter 😊❤

When Mapi had brought up the idea of having kids you were beyond scared, you didn’t have the best upbringing and you were not sure you knew what to do with a life so dependent on you. Mapi put all those fears to bed. She talked things through when you needed too, let you cry out your frustrations over your lack of parents growing up and then waited patiently for you to come to her when you were ready to actually start properly discussing it. Looking back now you are so thankful that she did, Lia was the funniest, goofiest, most loving three year old. She was a dream come true and more than you could have ever wished for.

She is the splitting image of her mother, right from her natural brown locks down to her curled baby toe, something you found adorable on both your girls. She wasn’t just the splitting image though, she also possessed most of Mapi’s characteristics. She was stubborn to a tee, competitive by nature, and she also had the biggest, kindest heart just like her mama. She had however get her silly nature from you, as well as her laid back personality, the girl oozed calm as Leila would say. She was the perfect mix of the both of you and you would not change her for the world.

She loves to copy everything Mapi does, this ranges from things like how she relaxes on the sofa, to the fact that Mapi sleeps in a sports bar and shorts and Lia has to also do just this. Its not easy finding a small crop top for a three year old. This also means that whenever she got the opportunity too, Lia will always jump at the chance to put her Barca kit on, tie up the laces on her boots, well watch while you did it, she hadn’t got the bunny ears down yet, and come training with the both of you. She was lucky enough that the coaching staff said that as today was Good Friday you didn’t have to get a sitter, she was welcome to come along. You knew the Barca girls would love this, they always loved having the smaller ones around, especially your little girl.

You were just finishing up your shooting drills with your fellow forwards when you heard Lia calling you. “Mummy come look come look!” The childlike enjoyment in her voice was clear to anyone that could hear her, whatever she had seen was amazing to her baby brown eyes. When you made it over to her you saw a little foil wrapped chocolate egg sat on the jacket she had taken off part of the way into training.

“What have you got there cariño?” Brushing your hand over her slightly sweaty hair, you made a mental note that she needed a shower later, you waited for the little girl to examine the object. This was the first year you and Mapi were allowing chocolate eggs to be brought, so you were not surprised at what the little girl had found. You knew the team couldn’t resit spoiling her, it had been like this with things since the start, they always had time to put a smile on your little ones face.

As you were helping Lia open her treat Leila approached you, you had been so focused on the small girl that you hadn’t noticed the rest of the team moving about the training pitch. “Ahhh I see my favourite sobrina found the first treat!” The high pitched excitement in Leila’s voice almost caused you to miss what she actually said, but you didn’t.

“What do you mean first treat? Leila what have you guys done?” The smirk was all the answer you needed. Nether the less, Leila crouched down to Lia’s height to talk to her about what you were sure was going to mean no sleep for you and Mapi tonight.

“So my favourite little person do you want to come help me find all the easter eggs your aunties have hidden around the training ground? Some of them are the size of the one that is now in your tummy and some are bigger!” The giggle, squeal of excitement and beaming smile on the little girls face made the impending sugar rush worth it. You couldn’t believe you were lucky enough to have these people around you, especially with all they do for Lia.

Without sparing you a glance the girl was off, hand in hand with her favourite tía, ready to find all the sweet treats your teammates had left around the grounds. “We got luck huh?” Mapi said as she wrapped her arms around you from behind, laying a gently kiss to her favourite spot just behind your ear, having just come out of the trainers room. Turning round you pressed a kiss to her lips before tucking yourself into your safe spot, the juncture between her neck and shoulder.

“We really did. Did you know they were going to do this? Look at how happy she is.” You felt Mapi’s head lift of yours to look in the direction of the overly excited toddler.

“No hermosa I had no idea they were going to do this, I’m going to have to have words with Ale later though, the kid has so much chocolate already.” She chuckled at something. Reluctantly coming out of your comfortable hiding place you watched as Lia ran up to Jenni with her arms outstretched, you originally thought this was to be picked up but it ended up being to try and pull the forward down. The older woman had her hands behind her back and was spinning around while your little one chased her. When she spun so her back was towards you, you saw the easter egg box securely in her hands. This was obviously the final part of the hunt and her self-proclaimed second favourite tía, Alexia would adamantly argue otherwise, was the final hiding place.

“Remind me to get Ale to send me that video later, soft Jenni is something we must always document.”

Eventually Jenni dramatically dropped to the ground with the Easter egg up by her head and Lia in typical three year old fashion climbed up and over the old woman to get to the awaiting egg. The sight you were seeing had you and Mapi in stiches, Jenni was laid on the grass a three year old sat on her stomach with a kids Easter egg raised proudly above her head like she’d just won the cup.

After all the fun activities you had done so far this good Friday Lia really needed a nap, especially as you had dinner with the team coming up at her favourite food destination. The girls knew how much like your wife the little girl was so they knew that her favourite thing to do when eating out was to get tapas. She loved trying all the different dishes, this way she got to try more than just some of yours or Mapi’s meals. Her love for the delicacy was very much supported by Mapi as it was a staple of her culture and how she was raised.

“Mama I no wanna sleep. I wanna go play with tía Leila” The significant whine in the little girls voice was the first major giveaway that as much as she wanted to go and play with Leila, who was in fact at her own home resting herself, she couldn’t even if you and Mapi let her try. Her head was laid on the older woman’s left shoulder, hand firmly gripping the front of your wife’s shirt, propped securely on her hip as they walked through the front door. The little girls eyes were already half closed. You would never get used to the sight of your two favourite girls, or how comfortable Lia was with Mapi and you never wanted to stop seeing the love they shared with one another.

“I’m going to take her up to her room mi amor. Are you going to join us for a pre-nap story or is it just me and mi pequeño amor?” Looking at your girls in that moment filled you with so much love. Lia was looking at you through sleepy eyes but was sporting the exact same questioning look your wife was wearing, it was moments like these that made you realise why the girls called her mini Mapi most of the time.

“Yes mi ama I will follow you right up, I’m just going to put our training gear in the wash. You two get yourselves sorted and I’ll make it for the book.” With a kiss pressed to each of your cheeks from both of them they were off upstairs, Mapi bouncing up and down causing your little one to burst out in a fit of giggles. A noise that you would forever say is your favourite sound in the world.

The washing took longer than you expected, Mapi must have forgotten to put this mornings load in the dryer like you’d asked. Not that you could blame the woman, she had warned you when you first started dating that she was awful at anything to do with cleaning. You had tried to teach her on multiple occasions but found that it only created more mess, so it was easier to just do it yourself. You both learned a year into going out that Mapi could fold clothes with scary precision so that was what she did, happy to contribute something at least.

Finally making it upstairs the sight you walked in on almost made you want to cry, happy tears but still tears. Mapi was fast asleep, knees bent in the air to accommodate for the fact she was laying on your toddlers tiny big girl bed, Lia firmly but gently held to her chest equally as fast asleep. The image sent you back to one of the first nights after you had brought the little girl home. You remember you’d been so exhausted with the constant feeding and the recovering from pushing a watermelon shaped baby out of your you know what that Mapi had sent you to bed with the promise that she had it covered for a few hours and if she didn’t she would come wake you up. When you did eventually wake up you knew it had been a significant amount of time because the sun was no longer shining in the sky which, being as it was the middle of summer, meant most of the day was gone. As well as that visible fact, you felt groggy, the kind of groggy you only feel when you’ve slept for a really good amount of time after not sleeping properly for a while. You somehow found yourself downstairs and to this day you barely remember the walk through the house, but the view that you got to see when you got there will forever be imprinted on your brain, as well as your wall but that’s not the point. Mapi was stretched out on the sofa fast asleep, your tiny 6lb baby was secured to her chest by a hand on the little ones back. She had placed pillows all around them and made a barrier next to the sleeping little girl so she couldn’t fall off, not that Mapi would ever let her. You managed to sneak off to grab your phone and take a photo which you sent to Alexia because you knew she would kill you if she found out about her goddaughter making the big bad Mapi Leon look like the sweetest woman on the planet. That is how you have a photo of it on you hallway wall, Alexia and the team had it made into a canvas as a welcome back to training present 9 months after it was taken.

You were snapped out of your daydream when you felt a kiss being placed on your forehead. “You okay bebé? You were lost in that beautiful head of yours, I called you three times before I shifted little miss off me myself.”

“I’m good babe just looking at you two like that reminded me of that time when she was a few days old. Just got lost in my love for the two of you together.” The sweet kiss Mapi pressed to your lips had you right back there in the present with her. You swear having a three year old meant that the time you got to spend just with your wife was very minimal. Even times like these were rare, the little girl barely took naps anymore, she was and you would quote her exact words ‘too big to sleep when the sun is up mummy, too much to do’.

Mapi dragged you by your hand out of the doorway of the animal themed room your daughter requested for her 3rd birthday, and into your own room. “I think its time me and you had our own quite time don’t you hermosa, we’ve got a good hour after all the running round she did with the girls this afternoon.” With a smirk you climbed on the waiting woman’s lap, placed a hand on the nape of her neck and pulled her into a passionate kiss full of love and promise. When the kiss started to heat up and you broke for air Mapi flipped your positions so you were laying under her. “I’ll have to thank the girls extra later for all they’ve done today. I’ve missed this mi amor” With that said she started to trail kisses down the side of your neck and you knew you were in for a treat.

After your nap time, well Lia’s nap your and Mapi’s quite time so to speak, you all got ready to go out to eat. Lia had decided that as it was easter she had to be the easter princess, so she wore her pretty dress that Mapi’s parents had brought her for her birthday and paired it with the bunny ears Alexia had brought her for the egg hunt earlier. You and Mapi chose a more standard outfit, both going for jeans and casual shirts.

Meeting the girls at the restaurant, you walked in to loud voices and laughter. They must have booked out the whole space because it was just them inside. As soon as you walked in Lia was whisked up by Claudia and Leila, both claiming the girl had to sit with them. You knew from that point on you would barely see the girl, she would be having too much fun soaking up all the attentions from the girls you were out with.

You and Mapi were sat with Alexia and Jenni, both of which spent a fair amount of time with the young girl as her godparents, so were happy to let all the others have their share of the bubbly toddler. “How much of the chocolate have you already hidden from the poor girl?” The smirk in Jenni’s voice told you that she had been one of the ones involved in the excessive amounts they had brought her.

“Mapi’s brother picked up half to reuse at the family dinner Sunday. He’s going to set up a little easter egg hunt in the yard for the kids. And that isn’t because we aren’t grateful for what you all did for her today its just a lot of sugar for an already hyper child. Me and Mapi would like to sleep over the next couple of weeks.” You know they knew you appreciated it you just wanted to make sure you confirmed it to them, you would always be thankful for these women.

“You know if your that desperate for the girl to sleep so you two can get it on we will happily have our goddaughter over for a sleepover.” Sometimes you hated Jenni for the things she said, but Mapi loved it. She was already laughing before you or Alexia could scold Jenni for the way her mind worked.

“Oh we will definitely be taking you up on that offer mi amiga don’t you worry.” You made eye contact with Alexia and with a nod of confirmation, a slap was delivered to the back of both of your significant others heads.

You and Mapi decided that today you would spend together as just your little family. After all the fun you had with your Barca family yesterday and what with heading over to Mapi’s families house tomorrow of Sunday dinner, today was a day for just the three of you. You had asked Lia and Mapi what sandwich filling they wanted, made up little picky bits like cheese and pickle on tooth picks, a food your daughter had learnt to love because of you, and packed enough water and juice boxes to last you all day.

With the cool bag packed and the blankets ready, you drove over to your favourite park. You shared many great memories here, it was the first place Mapi had showed you when you moved to Barcelona, then it was where Mapi proposed and finally it is where the bubbly little girl running off ahead of you took her first steps. You tried to come here as often as you could but since moving further out from the main city it meant that you had a bit of a drive to get here, it wasn’t just down from your apartment anymore.

You left Mapi to set up the blankets and get the food sorted while you took Lia into the little play park. “Mommy can you push me really high on the swings por favor?” You loved it when the girl spoke Spanish, it made you proud to know that your little girl had so much heritage behind her.  

“Of course cariño. You want to face mama so you can wave to her when you are up high?” The massive grin and fast shaking head told you all you needed to know. Putting the little girl in facing your wife you gave the back of the seat a push. The delighted squeals coming from your daughters mouth were all you could ever hope or dream for.

After the swings came the slide one that you had to go down with her to not miss out on the fun like you had with the swings, and then the seesaw and back on the slide. It was about a half hour later that Lia told you that she was hungry and you made your way back over to where Mapi was laying soaking in the sun. “Enjoying yourself babe?”

Mapi lifted the sunglasses of her eyes with a smirk “I sure am now.” Shaking your head at the woman’s antics you lent down to press a quick kiss to her lips before sitting down right at her side. Lia went straight for Mapi’s lap as she always does and you handed her the earlier requested ham and cheese sandwiches to which you got a quick gracias before she started munching away.

After you all let your food go down Mapi pulled out the tiny football from the bag. You spent the next hour or so mostly watching your girls kick the ball around, running after each other, until Lia came running over. “Mummy, Mama says you can’t beat me and Mama at football. Come and play por favor” You knew your wife so you knew this was not a challenge you could back down from. You put your water down and went to join them on the makeshift pitch they had made with the jumpers.

“What is this I hear about you and the munchkin beating me?” You sent your wife a look over your sunglasses.

“Lia wanted to play with me not against me so I told her she would have to get you for us to beat together. So what do you say bebé ready to get your bum beaten?”

Tickling the little girls tummy and patting the older ones you told them they were on before you got ready opposite them. The game was far from football, at one point you had Lia over your shoulder while you tried to beat Mapi, another time Mapi had you in the air by your waist so the little girl could score.

“So we all agree it was a draw then?” Lia beamed at that fact not wanting anyone in you little family to lose, Mapi on the other hand just shrugged her shoulders, as competitive as ever. “Alright miss competitive, you can have this one, I already won having you two in my life.” You laughed right as you finished uttering the cheesy line knowing that the slightly disgusted face Mapi was currently sporting was exactly what you would get for saying it.

You and your little family headed home after your day at the park, both you and Mapi thankful for another holiday spent spending time with all the people you cared about. Most importantly though, you were thankful for the family you created. Lia was mostly thankful for her Easter eggs when asked, which she did get a lot of, thanks Jenni.

[liptonsbabe]

My dear [S.U]

Sam Uley x Fem! reader!

Summary: “Did you have a hard day? You can complain to me. Did something make you almost cry? It’s alright, look at me. Starting from now, think of three really good things: the warm air, the dazzling weather, and me outside your window.  I told you, you can see brightness only when it gets dark”

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: Mentions of abuse, death, heart dissease and such. English not my mother language so pls let me know if something’s wrong

gif’s not mine

"Sorry to bother you, Chief," you said following the man's moves through your house. Charlie Swan was carrying a reclining chair with ease leaving it in the middle of the living room while you stood at the bottom of the stairs with your little four year old daughter in your arms. Cassie was exhausted. It had been a long plane ride and a bit more road travel, which knocked your little girl out as soon as you set foot in your new home in Forks. It was a long time since you had seen that place but of course you remembered Charlie Swan as kind as he had always been. Even when you were just starting to think about moving back to Forks he was the first to help you get a safe home for you and your daughter. You remembered looking up for Charlie's old phone number hoping it was still the same and when you dialed and heard the man's voice behind the phone you sighed in relief. At last life seemed to be smiling on you after a long time and Charlie was quick to offer to help you if you decided to return to town.

He told you about a house for sale next to his. The owner was elderly and preferred to live with one of her children and earn income from the house near the forest that could be bought by curious tourists so Charlie convinced her to sell you the house and at a lower price than she was originally asking because the house needed some repairs that he could do. So you thought no more about it and packed your things to return to Forks after the horrible years you had lived in Brownsville.

Charlie picked you up at the airport in his police cruiser and avoided turning on the siren cause Cassie was already half asleep in your arms when you got off the plane and he didn't want to disturb her, but Cassie had the strength to stay awake long enough to make him promise that next time he would turn on the siren as they drove around town.

The truth was that Charlie Swan was an angel. He arranged everything so you would have a quick return and even now he was bothering to get all your stuff out of the moving truck so you wouldn't have the worry of doing it later.

"Nonsense, I'm happy to do it. Besides, it's my day off."

"And that's why you shouldn't be doing all this. I know vacations for police officers are non-recurring."

"I'm the chief, I have certain privileges."

"Still."

"Well, I wasn't going to let you do this on your own" he replied, carrying the boxes with your and Cassie's clothes. He set them down on the kitchen island and leaned back against them to rest. You walked over and settling Cassie better in your arms you sat down in one of the chairs Charlie had given you "Billy and Jacob will be here in a little while to get all this settled so you can have your first night here without any problems."

"I still think it's too much. Stop spoiling me like this, Charlie, you even gave me part of your dining room!"

"Ah, it was nothing. Bella and I recently bought a new one and we didn't want to take it to the dump cause it still has some use. The table is made out of good wood and the chairs are freshly upholstered. Look at it, it suits perfectly!"

"That's not the point" you said, glancing sideways at the newly arranged dining room near the kitchen "The point is that you're doing a lot for me and it's not fair."

"Your father would have done the same for Bella if it had been about me" he replied reaching for a bottle of water from the installed cooler. A sudden tension appeared in the room as you both remembered what your father's life was like in Forks "Jackson was my best friend for a long time and when he died...I promised him that I would seek you out and support you as if you were my own and that is precisely what I am doing."

"You wouldn't have if I hadn't left and hadn't abandoned him. He died because of me"

"That's not true."

"He was left alone when I left. He died of grief"

"He died from the heart valve disease he had. Your father suffered it from a young age and even so, you had a right to look for your mother"

"I wish I hadn't" you murmured, cooing to Cassie who was beginning to get annoyed by the noise of your voices "I abandoned my father and didn't find anything worthwhile"

"Well, that doesn't matter anymore, stop tormenting yourself and thinking you killed your father. I was with him. He loved you and he died peacefully, remember him as the good man he was, child."

You sighed. Cassie went back to sleep peacefully

"You're right. I'm sorry."

"Don't worry, sweetheart. I know it's not the same, but you have me now and I'd rather die than let you leave again, do you hear me?"

"Easy, I have no intention of doing that" you half smiled "I'm running away from the tracks I left in Brownsville, I have no desire to go back under any circumstances. What I'm worried about is that the tracks won't rub off and show the way to the one I'm hiding from"

Charlie clicked his tongue.

"That should be the least of your problems. I have a gun and I know how to use it. He'll have to deal with that first before he gets to you."

"Thanks, Charlie."

"Although, if Chief Swan is as good at shooting as he is at fishing then you'll have to learn how to handle a gun yourself, honey" a voice appeared from the doorway followed by a young man's laughter.  You looked up meeting the unmistakable face of Billy Black next to his son Jacob. Billy entered your house being pushed by Jacob leaving him next to Charlie as he rolled his eyes "Be a little more modest, buddy."

"There's nothing wrong with bragging once in a while."

"Yeah, but you do it all the time."

"Shut up."

"Make me"

Charlie got up from his spot lunging towards Billy who ina swift movement spun the wheels of his chair avoiding Charlie's attack thus beginning a chase through the house dodging the obstacles of boxes on the floor. Jacob laughed taking Charlie's place in front of you.

"I thought we were coming to help with the move, not to watch them play like preschoolers?"

"Me too. I think Cassie will get along with them."

"Your little girl will beat them up right away"

"Probably."

You giggled quietly avoiding waking Cassie as Charlie and Billy finished their game to go back to the truck and get the last boxes, then you could finally get everything settled at home. Jacob smiled, looking at you

"I'm Jacob. You may not remember me but..."

"Are you kidding? I used to give you the bottle."

"No you didn't."

"Of course i did! My dad used to visit your parents a lot and he used to take me with him. You were a newborn baby and I used to volunteer to help Sarah feed you. You were the worst baby ever. You cried too loudly and squeezed the bottle with your swollen gums. Then you'd throw the milk back and you used to get really messy. Your poop was the smelliest I could remember."

"Don't say that!" he replied, embarrassed "I see you do remember me."

"And Quill and Embry. Tell me, are they still the same old fools?"

"They haven't changed at all."

You laughed.

"Perfect."

"Ok, these are the last boxes" announced Charlie walking into the house carrying with him a small box with Cassie's toys. Billy came in behind with some boxes on his lap "I think now we can get everything organized and finishing in time for you to get some rest."

"I'll clean up the little girl's room" offered Jacob standing up "then I'll fill the closet and set up the bed so you can lay her down, you must be tired from carrying her around for so long. is that okay with you?" he asked you. You nodded

"Yes, thank you Jacob."

"You're welcome. Give me that" The boy took the boxes off his father's legs and picked up Charlie's, all with one arm and with the other he carried the folding base of the bed. You opened your eyes wide 

"Easy, big guy, when did you get so strong?"

"I don't know. It just... showed up" he replied disappearing up the stairs

"It showed up" said Charlie "Ah, I hope shows up something like that to me"

"Don’t hold your breath as that happens" Billy joked.

"I should do something for lunch" you said trying to stand up. You were going to put Cassie down on one of the couches and put some cushions around her, but Charlie won't let you. Billy agreed 

"None of that. We'll order something."

"But..."

"Nothing" interrupted Billy "We'll buy pizza"

"You guys really need to stop doing this" you reproached. Billy picked up his phone

"Ah, sorry, you had to say that earlier, I'm already on the call."

"You guys are unbelievable"

Charlie smiled

"We know. oh I'll get Bella, she hasn't said hello yet" Charlie walked out before you could say anything else and closed the door dismissing the moving truck. Billy smiled complicitly, placed the order, gave the address and left the cell phone on the kitchen bar

"Dinner is served."

"Thank you."

"They had children's menu, so I ordered it for Cassie. I hear their brownies are delicious. Maybe I'll steal it for myself."

"I'll keep it as a secret"

Billy nodded with a smile and as the food arrived you chatted animatedly about what had happened in your absence, he also told you things about your father and all the times they went fishing together before his death. You were enjoying Billy's stories when time began to pass and Charlie didn’t return with Bella as he promised. Jacob was finishing Cassie's room and when the pizza arrived he came downstairs immediately, asking about Charlie's whereabouts.

"He went to get Bella, but he hasn't come back yet."

"That's strange, his house is right next door."

"Maybe something came up for him at the station" Billy shrugged.

You  decided to wait for the Swans to eat, but seeing that they didn't show up Jacob offered to investigate what was going on when suddenly the door opened and a very worried Charlie Swan walked in wiping the sweat from his brow

"Bella’s missing."

"What?"

Jacob suddenly became alert and Billy remained static in his place. You felt a knot in your stomach. While riding in the police cruiser that morning, you had heard something about tourist disappearances and wild creatures killing people in the woods and you feared Bella might be in that kind of danger. You were never close, but you knew her and occasionally went out together to talk or share a movie night. You still hadn't seen her after the years you were away and the least you wanted was for something bad to happen to her.

"Did you talk to any of her friends?"

"She was with them during classes, but they lost track of her on her way here. I'll call the Cullens, maybe..."

"You didn't know?" asked Billy "The Cullens left Forks, Charlie."

"Where did they go?"

"We'll find her" encouraged Jacob "But we have to go out and look for her before dark."

"I'll go with you" you said "I'll take Cassie to her room and..."

"No, no, stay" Charlie asked you "I left a note for Bella at home in case she comes back she’ll know that she has to come here and wait for me. If she does, call me right away, please" you nodded

"I'll call Harry and ask him to join along with the boys" Billy said and wheeled away down the hallway holding the phone to his ear. Charlie and Jacob left and you decided to take Cassie to the room, go down to the kitchen and make some coffee for the Brigadiers and Bella. If she was alone in the woods and the night was catching up with her then she was going to need something hot to get her strength back. 

You hoped with all your heart that she was all right. For her, for Charlie.

.

.

.

Hours passed one after another with no sign of Bella. Your driveway was carpeted with people and police cruisers specially brought by Charlie to search for Bella. The entire town was scoured by officers from the early hours of the night, yet there was no trace of the chief's daughter. You decided to join the search taking the opportunity that Sue Clearwater was playing with Cassie - who was awakened by the ruckus of the patrol cars - asking if it was a good idea to search for her in the woods, but Harry refused.

"It's too dangerous, we don't know what might be among the trees. We can't risk losing any more people."

You were about to object his words when Jacob came up to you putting a hand on your shoulder telling you that he was right and that the forest was something not to be taken lightly. So you gave up, deciding to go back inside and refill the coffee pot when Jacob alerted Charlie that someone had found Bella.

A tall man walked in a straight line toward the Brigadiers where Billy and Harry watched him with restrained relief. He had a stocky frame and Bella unconscious in his arms seemed to weigh no more than a feather. His cropped black hair was messy and his lack of a shirt told you that the icy cold of the city didn't affect him at all

You knew him. His face was very familiar yet strange at the same time. You were back in Forks after a few years, but you knew that no one could change that much in that period of time.

Sam Uley was holding Bella and Charlie took her in his arms as he came out of the stupor and relief of having found his daughter. The Brigadiers sighed in unison and Billy thanked them all. You wanted to do something, to approach Charlie, to ask him if he needed help with Bella, but your eyes were caught in Sam’s. 

They were dark, wild, like the forest behind him. You remembered him perfectly. 

Before you left Forks you two were close friends and came to like each other as something more, but your leaving ended that and what you might have been up to that point.

You tried to look away, but then Sam's huge body began to shake, his knees buckled and he fell to the ground resting his hands on the dirt. Harry Clearwater reacted and approached him asking if he was okay.

"Tired" you heard him whisper causing you to shudder. Harry helped him up, whispered something in his ear and after taking one last look at you he disappeared into the woods. Harry walked back towards you.

"I thought the forest was dangerous"

"For us."

"What do you mean?"

Harry looked at you. Then he looked at his wife with Cassie in her arms standing at the doorway . He smiled.

"You'll find out soon, child"