#god every line aches soft and bittersweet and it's so good

[ragnarokhound]

[mustainegf]

→ Masterpost

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟓

It was around 5 in the morning, and I was a complete wreck. I had spent the previous few hours shivering and sleepless, images of James speeding through my head. I saw every single time I tried to close my eyes, him lying all alone and in so much pain on that hospital bed. On top of this, this baby seemed to do everything in its power to force me to stay awake. I fought an urge to vomit, a wave of nausea hit me that wouldn't quit.

I had barely gotten into bed for what I was betting would be a minute or two of rest when the phone rang. My heart jumped up out of my throat, and, like a sprung coiled, I burst out of bed and race-walked into the kitchen to answer it. Let it be good news, please let it be good news, I thought.

"Hello?" I answered, voice trembling.

"Hey…" It was a hoarse and groggy voice, but unmistakably James. My James.

"James!" I cried out, relief spilling over me. "Oh my God, are you okay? How are you?"

He spoke soothingly, even though I knew he had to be in so much pain, "Calm down. I'll be all right. I got caught under a huge flame onstage. I have second and third degree burns on my arms, hand, and back I think..."

My eyes welled with tears, and my heart ached for him. "James, that's awful…."

"I know," he pouted in his voice. "But they're discharging me today. I guess that's a good sign then."

"Discharging you?" I repeated, voice laced with incredulity. "James, you need to come here. Stay with me so I can take care of you. You can't just go back on tour, I won’t let you."

"Look-" he began but I cut him off.

"No, James. You have to listen to me. You've been overworking yourself, and you need your rest. And I want you away from that world. At least for a little bit. Besides, we have a lot to deal with anyway. If you want to be a father, you’re gonna do it sober."

There was a long pause on the other end of the line. I could hear him breathing, almost feel his internal struggle.

“I have to get back out on tour," he finally said, his voice tight. "The band, the fans-."

I gripped the phone tighter, my determination hardening inside of me. "James Hetfield, you listen to me, you are coming here.” I insist. “And don't you argue with me. This isn't about you, not even about the band. It's about our baby. You need to be here."

Another silence, then a heavy sigh. "Alright," he said, sounding resigned. "I'll book the next flight back. But I'm doing this for you and the baby. The guys won't be happy."

"I don't care about the band right now," I said, my voice gentle now. "I care about you. The rest, we’ll sort it out."

"Yeah…" he said, and I could almost hear the apprehension in his voice. "I’ll see you soon."

"Thank you, James," I said, my heart full of love. "I'll be waiting for you."

Afterwe hung up the phone, I stood there for a second before turning my phone off, still in my hand. The tiredness was still there.

I spent the rest of the early hours preparing for his arrival. I wanted everything to be perfect so he would have everything he needed to recover. I had the couch all nicely prepared with a fresh blanket, extra pillow, and every other type of supply that I could imagine he could use: bandages, painkillers.

Though I was so incredibly tired, I bustled from one thing to the next. This was my contribution, my way of showing him he wasn't alone. My exhaustion that had been present all night began morphing into this deep, tired comfort.

Making my way across into the bedroom, every step a little lighter, I lay down. The mattress was soft, and the sheets were cool. I turned onto my back and laid one hand over my belly. I did this a lot now, it made me feel less alone.

"We're going to be okay," I whispered back to myself, closing my eyes. "Daddy's coming home. He's going to be all right."

I smiled, a few tears sliding out of the corners of my eyes, not of sadness, but of a strange and bittersweet joy. I ran my hand slowly across my tummy in reassuring circles.

"You're so loved, little one," I murmured. "I can't wait to meet you. I’m gonna take care of you, protect you, and give you everything in the world."

As I kept on whispering to my baby, the exhaustion finally crashed down on me. Heavy eyelids began to draw themselves down, and my eyes fluttered over. "You're my little miracle," I whispered, barely above a whisper. “Hopefully you’ll be James’ as well…”

The last thing that registered was a gentle kick from the baby, reminding me that there was life growing inside of me. My lips held a smile as I went to fall into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Images filled my dreams of our family whole and happy, an image I knew deep down, would not come to fruition. No matter how hard I wished or dreamed, I wasn’t quite sure if I could pull James out of whatever he was in. I didn’t know how to bring back my Jamie.

When I woke up, I felt a feeling of calm I hadn't felt in a long time. I slowly opened my eyes, the remainder of sleep still clutched to me. As my vision cleared, I was met with a sight that made my heart jump a beat. Crouched at my bedside, gazing at me lovingly with a gentle smile, was James.

"James?" I asked softly, still half in a dream. I wearily pushed myself up, wanting to hug him, to reassure myself that he was really there.

"Be gentle," he said, wincing slightly as he moved to accommodate my hug. The bandages on his arm and the stiffness in his movements breaking my heart a little.

I slipped my arms cautiously around him; his body was warm, his breathing calm and regular. "You really came," I whispered, my voice full of emotion.

"I'm here," he said softly back, holding me.

As much as I desired to kiss him, to tell him to come back to me fully, I knew I couldn't. The past pain still lingered, and I had to remind myself of the reasons we parted ways. But his being here and seeing him safe was enough for now.

He drew back a little and gazed downwards in wonder. He watched as he gently swept the thin blanket aside. "Look at you." he awed.

Down I looked too and placed my hand on my belly, feeling the life inside me. "Our baby," I said softly.

James gazed nervously at my baby bump before I finally nodded and let him place his hand just under my belly. His gentle grasp was splayed against my stomach, feeling our baby for the first time. "Holy shit…" he whispered again, his voice full of emotion.

We just sat a little, the room filling with loving but awkward silence. The last time we had seen each other, it was the day he left. So much had happened in between. It was large, this gulf between us.

"How're you?" he asked me, peering into my eyes for any hint of distress.

"Tired," I admitted. "But seeing you helps."

He smiled then, "I'm sorry. For everything."

I shook my head, placing a hand on his cheek, feeling the hair on his face itch my hand just slightly. "We'll figure it out, James."

He nodded then, his hand still resting on my belly. "I want to be here for this kid."

"And we want you here," I whispered.

"I know," he said, his voice steady. "I'm ready to try."

James looked at me through my face with such tender concern. "You need to get some sleep," he pleaded quietly, "both you and the baby. I'll be fine."

I was dead tired, the exertion and strain of everything over the last couple of days had finally taken its evil toll. Yet, the very idea of shutting my eyes, of letting go even for the slightest of moments, was hard as well.

"Are you sure?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper, my eyelids already growing heavier.

He nodded, reassurance filling his eyes. "I promise, I'm sure. Just sleep. I'll be right out there."

With a tired sigh, I fell back into the mattress, the soft bedding holding me. James leaned in, his hand gently stroking my belly, and pressed a tender kiss to my stomach. "Take care of Mommy," he murmured.

With my eyes closed, I was cognizant of his hand protectively over our baby and his warmth beside me.

"I've got you both."

Right there and then, I let myself let go.

For the first time in what seemed like an eternity, I was able to sleep soundly.

[navegandoaciegas]

Broken Wings

Pairing: Lee Bodecker x Reader

Summary: You’re a small town girl with big city dreams, set on leaving Knockemstiff and its sheriff behind for good. Lee would do anything to make sure you stay with him.

Warnings: smut, explicit language, consensual sex, slight breeding kink, unprotected vaginal sex, mentions of alcohol.

A/N: This is part 1. Part 2

I want to thank my baby @whateveriwant for your support, ily! I haven’t written anything in more than a month but it feels good to be back to it!!

Knockemstiff, 1957

The crisp air of the night hit your exposed legs when you swung them over the window sill, and a shiver ran down your spine as humidity seeped into your bones.

From your bedroom on the second floor, you could make out the shape of the Sheriff’s car hidden behind the line of trees near your father’s shed, and a bittersweet, faint smile spread on your painted lips. Fastening the clasp from the outside, you climbed down the drain pipes, savoring the thrill of it all one last time.

No more Knockestiff, sneaking out of your bedroom, shotgunning while he patrolled the streets, milkshakes and burgers propped on your things and Johnny Cash playing in the background, drowned by your giggles and his laughs. You wouldn’t get to call the sheriff yours anymore, and you would never spend another moment writhing in pleasure under his warm, soft body.

You loved Lee Bodecker in spite of everything he stood for, but not even the love of your life could keep you anchored to this town. Tomorrow you’d be far, far away, and God himself couldn’t stop you if he tried.

You’d promised your mother that you wouldn’t end up withering away with no chances and no future like she had. Like everyone who was touched by the curse of Knockemstiff did.

“Spread your wings and fly far, far away,” she’d hiccup between sobs each time you’d drag her limp body from the couch to her bed, the stench of alcohol and stale cigarettes oozing out of her skin, “my pretty little butterfly.”

Your mother would have sold her soul to the Devil to see you out of Knockemstiff.

A new beginning awaited you in New York. A job as a librarian, an apartment to share with one of your college girlfriends, a prospect, a future.

Hope, freedom, opportunities.

The pipe creaked under your weight, but you paid no mind to it. Moonshine would have knocked out cold anyone in the house by now.

Scurrying down the gravel road, you found Lee waiting for you, a smug smile on his clean shaven face and a brown paper bag in his arms.

“About damn time, dove. Been freezing my ass over here, waitin’ on ya.”

You flung yourself in his arms, knocking him back against the car’s hood, savoring the musky scent of his cologne one last time.

“Hello, Sheriff.”

His chest vibrated with a fond chuckle, and you looked up to him, trying to etch every line of his handsome face to your memory.

In another life, the adoration in his blue eyes would have changed your mind.

“Missed me?” he teased you, one arm snaking around your waist, holding you flush to his front. The other came up to your face, cradling your cheek in his palm.

You could feel his soft belly against you. His shirts fit tighter now than when you’d started dating, and his stomach was beginning to bulge over his belt buckle.

“More than you can imagine.” you sighed, offering him a weak smile.

Maybe he missed the melancholy in your voice, or maybe he’d made his peace with your mood swings long ago, because he didn’t comment on it, simply placing a soft kiss on your forehead and pushing you back, thrusting the bag in your arms.

“Let’s get inside dove. These streets ain’t gonna patrol ‘emselves.”

The inside of his car was always warm, and smelled like him.

He drove around while you fed him fries, and you talked until your mouths ran dry.

Guilt gripped your heart when he mentioned a future together.

You knew he’d picked a ring, voices spread fast in small towns. He wanted the white picket fence, a pretty housewife and kids.

You were selfish and cruel and revelled in his love and affection for months, knowing damn well you’d never give him what he desired most.

“You okay? You seem distracted.” he quipped, hand squeezing your thigh.

Your conscience screamed at you to talk to him, but your mouth stayed sealed. There were no words to make this easy on him, so you’d make it easier on yourself.

He’d hate you, at first, but he’d move on, find some other nice girl and settle down with her.

She’d be pretty, and good to him, and she’d love him for the rest of her days.

“I’m okay, you know me. My head’s always up ‘n the clouds. College,” you deepened your voice, mocking your father’s words, “makes ‘m kids airheads.”

His eyes crinkled when he laughed. You’d miss the sound.

“I know, my little dove’s always flying higher than the rest of this shitty town.”

It was bitter, really, that the one you loved the most was what kept you chained to the ground, where you didn’t belong.

You were meant for the sky, his little dove, your mother’s butterfly.

Spread your wings, you reminded yourself, and fly far, far away.

-

You swore time flew by faster when you spent it with Lee, and minutes melted into hours, slipping through your fingers.

You wished you had more.

When he pulled over to an all too familiar clearing in the woods, your body acted on its own accord, and you climbed in the back seat like you’d done most nights for months.

Those trees had seen you in all states of undress, fucked in the car or on the hood, on your knees, on your back, on your stomach, with his cock down your throat or in your cunt, his face between your legs or on the crook of your neck.

Everything made you melancholic, everything reminded you about what you were about to give up.

It was selfish, but you’d allow yourself to forget all about the future for the moment being.

Just you and Lee, just a moment longer before reality would inevitably hit you like a bucket of iced water.

You and the love of your life that you’d betray once morning came.

But in the dark, underneath the stars and the moon, he was still yours, and you were his.

“You’re so fuckin’ beautiful baby, God, I’m the luckiest man in the whole world.”

You ignored the guilt once again, and straddled his lap. Grabbing him by his tie, you slanted your mouth against his. He parted his lips with a sigh, resting his back against the seat.

“Fuck, dove, you’re so good to me.” he mumbled, calloused hands roaming over your body.

A moan escaped your lips when his strained cock rubbed against your flimsy undergarments, and you arched your back, seeking more friction to soothe your aching core.

Warmth pooled in your lower belly, and slick gathered in your panties.

You ran your fingers through his hair, and pulled him impossibly close to feel everything, his warmth and his scent, his soft body and his rough hands.

Teeth clattering, bruising touches, heaving chests. The windows were getting fogged up by your hot breaths, and the metal creaked and clattered under your weights.

Desperation and arousal clouded your mind, and you looked at him through half lidded eyes, hoping he couldn’t read into your soul.

“Lee, baby, I need to feel you, I need you inside me,” you whined, unbuttoning his shirt and tugging on his belt impatiently.

You were desperate to feel his cock inside you, to have his hands leave bruises and his mouth leave marks on your skin one last time. Be his, be one in the flesh, one last time.

“So eager, you’d think I was Paul Newman or somethin’,” he chuckled, kneading the flesh of your ass.

“Much better than Newman, Brando or whatever they worship in Hollywood now.” you panted through sloppy kisses, hand dipping inside his briefs, his weight heavy and hot against your palm.

He hissed through his teeth, eyes rolling to the back of his brain. “What are you butterin’ me up for, dove?”

A beautiful moan escaped his lips when you doubled your efforts, wrist twisting around the velvety skin of his shaft, working his sensitive tip.

“I don’t need flattery to get me anythin’ baby, just these hands and lips.”

You popped your lips to emphasize your point, and let your tongue run along his bottom lip, taking it between yours and sucking on it.

He lifted your shirt with a swift motion, and the growl that he let out when he didn’t find any bra sent a thrill through you, straight to your throbbing core.

He groped your tits, squeezing until the line between pleasure and pain became too blurred to distinguish. You gasped when he rolled and pinched your nipples between his fingers, and mewled when his mouth closed down on one of them.

His tongue swirled around the stiff bud, teeth barely grazing the delicate skin.

A shiver ran down your spine when you felt his hot breath against your neck, and in a blur you found yourself laying on your back, his body caging you in.

“Don’t forget about this pussy, baby, I’d do anything for it.”

Your giggles turned to cries once his hand found its way between your legs, his name falling from your lips like a prayer while he caressed the hair on your mound.

He beamed proudly, feeling the wet patch on your undergarments, and dipped in your folds, spreading the slick around your entrance, rubbing your clit with his thumb.

His lips tasted like candy and strawberry milkshake, and you savored them as long as you could while your tongue intertwined with his.

You laughed when he knocked his head on the door, and then his knees on the floorboard.

“Can’t wait till we have a bed.” He groaned, already breathless while he fumbled with his pants, shoving them down his legs in a hurry.

Sadness filled you again, because one day he’d have a big, comfortable bed, but you wouldn’t be the one warming it.

You blinked away the tears as you clung to his shoulders.

When he breached your entrance, you felt like the wind had been knocked out of you.

You’d never gotten used to the stretch of his girth, and you wondered if anyone else would ever feel this right inside you.

“Fuck,” he groaned, hips stilling once he’s sheathed himself inside you, “God, you’re so tight.”

You felt like you were bursting at the seams, your walls quivering around his cock.

He rolled his hips tentatively, observing your face for any signs of pain, and started pounding inside you once he’d found none.

The burn soon turned into a pleasant ache.

“I’m a lucky bastard,” he snarled, punctuating each word with a rough snap of his hips, “I can’t wait to have you all to myself, dove.”

He buried his face in the crook of your neck, and didn’t notice how your lips quivered, or the tears that streamed down your face. He kept thrusting inside you, moaning each time he would feel your walls gripping his cock tightly.

Damp skin slid over yours, filling the car with the lewd sounds of his balls slapping your ass, and his belly smacking against yours.

“I’m gonna put so many babies inside you, I can’t wait to see you all swollen with my child. Fuck-, I can’t wait to come home to you everyday, my pretty little wife.”

You let yourself revel in the image. A pleasant, safe one. One that didn’t belong to you, but that warmed your heart anyways.

When the pressure in your core became too much for you to bear, you began blabbering and begging him to give you that release only he had ever given you.

“Please Lee, I need to- need to cum, baby.”

You choked on your words and shrieked when his hand dipped between your bodies, and he began rubbing circles around your clit.

“Cum for me, dove, cum all over my cock, wanna feel you fall apart on me baby.” he growled, hips stuttering.

He swallowed your cries with a kiss as you came undone. Your whole body trembled when hot waves of pleasure shook your limbs, the tight coil in your cunt unravelling all at once, releasing the pressure inside you.

You throbbed and gushed around his cock, arching your back and digging your nails in the flesh of his back.

He kept pounding inside you, riding your aftermath and praising his good girl through shuddering breaths.

“Fuck, I’m close,” he whined, and you felt his movements become errantic and his cock swell inside you.

“Finish up outside,” you managed to wheeze out.

He grunted, but obeyed regardless.

Knocking you up before he got a preacher’s blessing wouldn’t look good on his resume if he was to ever be mayor. Otherwise you’d have had a child on your hip already, you suspected.

You winced when he pulled out, and stood on his shins, hovering over you, brows furrowed, sweat dripping down his forehead.

You brought your hand down to his cock, and you stoked him once, twice, running your thumb over his slit before his hips stuttered and he painted your stomach with his white, warm load.

He collapsed next to you, holding you tight in his arms and catching his breath.

“You’re gonna be all mine soon, dove,” he whispered in your ear, rubbing his nose against yours, “and I’m gonna fill your pussy up every night, I swear. No more pulling out ever again.”

-

Freedom tasted bittersweet.

Corn fields gave way to tarmac too soon, and before you realized it, you’d left Knockemstiff and your old life behind, in hope of a new, better one

You rested against the window, your head rattling on the screen with each bump on the road. The stench of stale cigarettes, moonshine breath first thing in the morning and sweat filled the packed bus, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care.

The prospect of your future terrified you and thrilled you to no end.

You observed the cars speeding past the bus, and the streams of dried tears on your face in your reflection. Your mind swirled with thoughts, the images of Lee torturing you. Sighing to yourself, you clutched the handkerchief that the woman besides you had gently offered with a kind, knowing smile on her face.

Better forget all about him as soon as possible.

New beginnings were hard, but hope blossomed in your chest with each mile that went by. Besides, your mother’s smile when she’d waved you goodbye had given you all the strength you needed.

You let the gentle sway of the bus lull you to sleep.

She’d never looked so happy and beautiful, bathed in dawn’s warmth with her Sunday dress she’d worn to see her biggest wish come true.

Her butterfly had finally spread her wings.

-

Part 2 (hopefully coming out tomorrow)

-

So what do you think is going to happen in the next chapter? 🤭

I hope you liked it! I haven’t written in so long, but I hope it’s good. Please leave some feedback if you can, and reblog!

[sincerelytomydearest]

April Showers Bring May Flowers

Hi hi! This is my piece for Mystic Messenger Reverse BigBang (@mysme-rbb), and also my first piece! This is also on AO3 here. This piece is paired with the wonderful artist Saia (@saiare._) on instagram!

Words: 1553

Warnings: N/A

Synopsis: Saeran and MC are hit with rain.

Saeran X MC

The cool scent of petrichor and mellow rain had made Saeran uneasy. Ray had always attributed such specific weather conditions to unforgiving pouring outside of their childhood home. Conditions which barred them from escaping, leaving the twins alone with their sole caregiver. Ray seemed to house those memories close. Saeran on the other hand had always felt that the rain was somewhat of a catharsis. He’d remembered dumb idioms V had told him, phrases he’d learned to grasp onto. Sayings such as “You can’t have a rainbow without a little rain,” and their like. Ray hung onto quotes during his time in Magenta. Drinking down the translucent, turquoise concoction of elixir, smelling the copious amounts of medication and hoping his rainbow would come soon after. Saeran tasted bittersweet, Linking Rika to the rain, and MC as the rainbow. But this time around, it was difficult to see the distinguishing features of each contradicting party.

What’s taking so long?, thought Saeran. MC had remained in the confines of the locked bathroom for all too long. In an effort to not hide anything from them, MC told Saeran she was late. And now they were here, her locked in the bathroom with a pregnancy test, and him, waiting (im) patiently for MC to give him the news.

The pair weren’t at all trying, if anything they were preventing. All four of them collectively agreed that they just weren’t ready for an addition in the family. And MC seemed to understand, knowing full and well Saeran had just narrowly escaped Mint Eye, that Saeyoung was still missing in action, and that lots of healing was to come before any sudden decisions. But Saeran knew well that they could only be so careful, tiptoeing between the lines. Saeran could only guess how Suit (as he’d come to refer to him) and Ray would react, he feared that he’d have to see them in their full glory. His fears were yet to come true.

A small rattle of the doorknob caught Saeran’s attention, silver twisting against the door. MC peeked her head out with a skittish smile gracing her porcelain face, Saeran couldn’t help but smile back. Her infectious smile never failed to adorn her lover’s lips too, he was utterly grateful for her optimism in the worst scenarios. Noticing the pink and white test in her hands, he stepped forward, a look of worry painted on his face. MC opened her palms to Saeran, showing the two pink lines. They were expecting.

…

Suit couldn’t help but react. Why? Just when things were getting good for us. His hands flew to MC’s sides, pushing her up against the wall. It hurts. Suit pressed his fingers into MC’s shoulders, nails digging into her frame.

“Sae!” MC exclaimed, unknowing of the sudden change. Warm tears began welling in his eyes, his head pounding as his body reacted on it’s own. You’re strong. We’re strong.

“Fuck MC.. I-I..God,” he managed to putter out.

Despite the display, his hands shook, arms coming to wrap around the frightened girl’s figure. MC traced her slender fingers along his own form, holding onto the alabaster fabric that scrunched at her fingertips.

“We’re going to be okay Saeran..” her words trailed as she shushed him quietly.

“I-I know we’re not ready, w-we’re far from ready. But know we’re in this together. You’re not him. You’re not her. You’re mine. No, ours alone. We have so much to work through. B-But I promise you, this isn’t bigger than us. All of us.” MC whispered as her own tears began to flow. Suit growled, head spiraling in every which way. We’re not ready for this, fuck, fuck, fuck! Suit’s hands loosened, letting go of MC’s hazel sweater. I can’t hurt her. His whitening knuckles coming to a pause as blood began to properly circulate around his hands. MC couldn’t help but let out a shaking sob, her body trembled, knowing she had put them in an immeasurable amount of pressure, pain, and general confusion.

“Saeran, I’m so sorry. W-We could’ve been more careful. But, I want you to know, I want to keep it. Y-You’re going to be an amazing father.” MC cried out with her trembling tone.

“No, MC. You’re going to be an amazing mother.” Suit finally replied, his usually gruff tone now replaced with melancholic monotone. Confused, MC pulled back, looking to face her lover. His pale face was motionless, not to mention seemingly emotionless (though MC knew his mind was running a hundred miles an hour). She could only stare at his ivory skin, pink lips brightly lit with crimson, she’d failed to notice how hard he bit his lips, or that he even was biting in the first place. Aquamarine met sepia. Suit could practically feel his pupils dilate. Meanwhile MC admired Saeran’s soft features, from the way his cheekbones protruded less, to the lightening of his dark circles which once held a monopoly upon his face. This was the face MC couldn’t help but adore.

…

A week later, and Saeran had still been struggling to face his reality. Their reality. Ray and Suit had been awfully quiet since the reveal, and Saeran had a hard time breaking through to them. But it was now or never.

“Sae, we don’t have to talk about this right now.. I mean, if y-you can’t.” MC stuttered. She was lying, she’d known this was an issue that could not wait, one that couldn’t be left to waiver, especially for weeks, let alone months, nine months to be exact. But she’d do anything to spare them from pain. Saeran on the other hand, paced the room. His eyes wandering the room, left, right, up and down.

“No MC, I have to get this out. We have to get this out.” Saeran said, stopping his disturbed pace to look MC in the eye, his own falling away quickly after just a glance. Saeran sighed out, his bated breath being expelled. MC took his milky white hand into her own, giving it a soft peck. It was their time to speak. Ray was swift to front, cheeks turning a cute shade of cherry. He sat next to MC on the dingy couch Saeyoung once resided on, raising his opposing hand towards MC’s cheek. She instantaneously reacted, leaning into the palm of his hand.

“That red head..No, S-Saeyoung and I. Our Mother, she was a monster..” Ray began as he suddenly flinched away from MC’s touch. Her heart ached, longing to reach for him and protect him from the world, but she knew he needed this.

“Everyday, that woman.. She’d left marks on me, more than physical. Everyday I still fear her, in small daily discussions or quarrels. Every raised voice, every swift hand. I see her. And I fear her. I fear her..” Ray’s voice trailed off, eyes growing glossier by the second. MC bit her lip in response,

“Ray, y-you don’t have to-”

“No Love, I do.” He cut in.

Ray placed his hands along his thighs, taking in a solid breath as a tear trickled down his cheek, meeting his neck.

“I fear those marks she’s left on me. I’m scared of being..Her. Of becoming a tyrannical parent like her. I don’t care what Suit says. I’m weak MC. I fear her imprint, I fear what she could do, to me, to you, to us, all of us.” He said as he looked towards MC’s womb.

“I need you here with me, I know I can’t do this. Not without you. There’s no one else I’d rather have this child with. With you as their Mother, I know it’ll be okay. W-We’ll be okay.” He said staring at the ground before meeting MC’s auburn gaze. His hands cautiously made contact with hers, gently intertwining before kissing her knuckles.

“We’re going to be okay.” She whispered.

…

“Come here!” Yelled out Saeyoung as he chased after the smaller redhead ahead of him, effectively scattering mud and dirt around the perimeter. She ran with all her might, giggling in between thunderous screaming.

“Never!” She screamed before running straight into Saeran.

“Oomf!” was the sound she made before turning to look up to her father. Saeran took a step back, hands coming to wrap around the nine year old before looking down at her. She grinned widely, her toothy smile melting Saeran’s previously chilly demeanor. He beamed ear to ear. He could count her missing teeth. Since when was she growing so quickly?

Saeyoung was quick to attack, pouncing onto his niece and younger twin. Consequentially bringing them all down onto the mud. Her and Saeyoung’s laughter roared, chirping as loud as the birds. After a moment of hesitation, Saeran joined in. All of them splayed along the ground, basking in the newly sprung sun.

MC strolled near the pile of redheads, carrying a sleeping five year old in her arms.

“You’re all awfully boisterous today,” she said, smiling. Saeran sat up, ruffling the boy’s brunet locks.

“Appa! Appa!” the boy called out to his father, pointing to the sky. Saeran turned to see a faint rainbow making its way across the azure atmosphere. He couldn’t help but turn to see his family’s reaction to the magnificent phenomenon. All of their eyes twinkled.

We’re okay.

[baepsaesbae]

I Choose You

Pairing— Kim Taehyung x reader

Genre— SMUT,  slight angst, fluff, Idol!Taehyung x reader 

Warnings— fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex always use protection!!, slight choking and slight nipple play

Word Count— ~3.3k

Summary— Being one the secret girlfriend of one of the most famous kpop stars in the world can have its challenges. How much longer can you keep the charade up?

A/N —The fic banner was made by the lovely @ddaengyoonmin.​ I really hope you enjoy it!

“God, this is so nice. I’ve really missed you. You haven’t had a day off in how long?”

“Too long. At least I finally have a day that’s devoted completely to you,” Taehyung boops your nose.

Your (secret) boyfriend, Kim Taehyung, is a world famous idol with one of the busiest schedules in the universe. Despite rarely seeing each other, Taehyung never ceases to show you his love and affection. You get daily texts and videos of him being a goof with the other bandmates. Although the other members were apprehensive about Tae having a secret girlfriend, they soon became supportive after they finally met you.

“It’s silly that you still insist on going on dates in a different city. You didn’t just debut; people will still recognize you outside of Seoul,” you say.

“That’s why we come to little mom and pop restaurants like this! Fewer people come here, plus the food is always delicious,” Taehyung excitedly licks his lips as the food is being served.

“Good point. It doesn’t matter where we are as long as I’m with you,” you smile.

Taehyung returns your smile with a boxy one of his own before he digs into the food.

The rest of the day was spent walking through parks and going into various dessert shops. Taehyung doesn’t have much of a sweet tooth, but you do. He’ll take every chance he can get to spoil you, especially on the days that he gets you all to himself.

He drove you back to your apartment at the end of the day. Saying goodbye is always bittersweet.

“I love you, angel,” Taehyung kisses your cheek as you both stand in front of your apartment.

“I love you too, Tae,” you pull him in for a hug, “Stay the night with me,” you whisper to him.

“I’d have to leave early in the morning for practice,” he whispered back.

“I know that, dummy. I don’t care. I just want you to hold me for a little while longer,” you plead.

“Okay, let’s go snuggle then,” he kisses the top of your forehead.

You change into your pjs, preparing to turn in for the night. You jokingly offer Taehyung one of your t-shirts to wear to sleep. He scoffed at your offer and instead just stripped down to his underwear.

“You know I’d prefer to sleep like this,” he giggled as he tackled you onto the bed, “It sucks that I rarely get to, you know, since we’re being filmed so often.”

“Don’t worry, you’re not being filmed here,” you stroke through his soft hair.

As you began drifting off to sleep, Taehyung murmured in your ear, “What if I want to do more than just hold you?”

“What would that entail?” you sleepily replied, your eyes still closed.

“Maybe you could help me with this,” he suggested, slowly grinding his crotch into your backside.

You turn around to face him, your hand trailing down to cup his bulge. You begin palming him through his underwear while kissing along his jawline.

“Is this helping?” you tease.

“Starting to,” he seductively replies.

In one swift motion, he’s on top of you, pinning your wrists above your head. He smoothly grinds his crotch into yours, turning you on even more. He bends over to kiss you. At first, it was a soft gentle kiss as his lips lightly pecked yours. It quickly turned into a deeply passionate kiss, tongues and saliva swapping mouths.

Taehyung releases his grip on your wrists, sensually kissing a line from your neck to your stomach. He tugs off your shorts and underwear before spreading your legs wide open. Without hesitation, he licks a long wide stripe between your folds. He chuckled when you gasped. His continued licking you this way while adding an extra little flick on your clit each time. It felt amazing but his pace was slow, and you started to whine.

“What’s wrong baby? It doesn’t feel good?” he asks.

“It feels amazing. You’re just teasing me a lot,” you slowly reply between breaths.

“Oh, is this what you’re missing?” he asks as he slips a finger into you, causing your breath to hitch.

You moaned out in response, indicating that it was indeed what you were missing. Taehyung returned to working on your clit, his tongue rotating between flicking it and going in circular motions around it. He simultaneously slipped another finger into you and was rhythmically pumping into you, bringing you closer to the edge.

Your legs began to move uncontrollably, forcing Taehyung to pin one of them down as he ate you out faster and more intensely. It wasn’t long after that when you unraveled into his mouth.

He looks up at you with a smirk on his face. He licks off your juices from his lips and just the sight of that was enough to make you horny again.

“God, I missed the way you taste,” he said while taking off his underwear.

He ran his length along your soaked folds, teasing you.

“You think you’re wet enough for me, baby?” he asks.

“Why don’t you find out?” you bat your eyes innocently.

Taehyung responded by slowly filling you up until he bottomed out. He didn’t have the patience to tease you anymore, as he began to roughly slam into you. Your moans drowned out the wet sounds of slapping skin.

Taehyung pushes your knees close to your face to further expose your pussy as the lower half of your body lifts off the bed. His pace begins to slow down as he teases himself by just bringing the tip of his dick in and out of you. Doing this always brought him closer to the edge, but it made you needier.

“Tae s-stop teasing me,” you whine.

“I’m so close, love,” he pants as he moves your legs to rest atop his shoulders.

One of Taehyung’s hands wraps itself your neck while the other fondles your breast. His hold on your neck gets firmer as he pinches your nipple. Every sensation overwhelms you, leading you to an intense orgasm.

Seeing you squirm with pure bliss underneath him is what forced Taehyung to follow suit. His hot juices mixed with yours as he released a guttural moan of pleasure.

You pull him into a warm embrace, not caring that you’re both sweaty messes. He gingerly kisses your forehead, and you nuzzle into his neck in response.

“I love you so much,” you whisper.

“Not as much as I love you, angel,” Taehyung whispers back as he strokes your cheek.

You both fall sound asleep not long after. Taehyung eased you back to sleep when his alarm went off at dawn. He gave you a final loving peck on the forehead before silently departing.

A cold empty bed greeted you as you reached out for Taehyung in vain. You knew he wouldn’t be there, but it was instinctual to cuddle up to him. You sighed and rolled back over to your side. Grabbing your phone, you looked for something to distract your feelings of loneliness.

Checking your phone as soon as you wake up is probably a bad habit. To be fair, who doesn’t do that these days? Your eyes are barely open as you scroll through your social media. Giggling at random animal videos is how you’d ideally want to start your day. Instead, a celebrity gossip article was plastered all over your feed.

“BTS IDOL SPOTTED WITH POSSIBLE GIRLFRIEND?!?!” was sprawled across the top of the article.

Your eyes widened with fear. Did the paparazzi finally expose the secret Taehyung had tried so desperately to keep? Taking a deep breath, you hesitantly clicked on the story.

The photo accompanied with the piece was blurry and hard to make out. The venue seemed to be in some sort of club or bar. The lights were dim but sure enough, you were able to make out Taehyung’s angelic face.

However, you’ve never been to this place before. The girl in the photo was all over him, her arms wrapped around his neck. Her hair color was different than yours, solidifying your aching heart.

Scandals and gossip were common, but you’ve never actually seen footage like this before. Until now, the speculating tabloid articles never had any pictures.

Taehyung would never cheat on you, you knew that. You were sure there was a logical explanation to the picture, but that didn’t make it hurt any less. Sometimes you wish the public actually knew about your relationship, that way you wouldn’t have to deal with trivial things like this.

You decided to call Taehyung after reading the article.

“Hey, ___! What’s up?” he happily picked up after one ring.

“Have you seen the latest gossip about you?” you directly ask.

“Uh, there’s a lot of that everywhere babe,” Taehyung replies.

“I’ll send it to you,” you curtly say.

Silence settled as Taehyung opened the article on his end.

“Oh,” you hear him say quietly.

“Oh?” you repeated.

“___, the paparazzi blew this way out of proportion,” Taehyung stated.

“I know. That’s why I called you, so you could tell me yourself what is happening here,” you felt your patience wearing thin.

“That’s an ARMY,” Taehyung simply asserted.

“There are millions of ARMY all over the globe, but none of them party with you like that,” you retort.

“She came up to me telling me how much she loves our music,” he began to explain, “She’s an up and coming idol that just debuted from a small company.”

“Yeah, I read that. Did it ever occur to you that she could have staged that? What better way to become famous than to be associated with a member of BTS?” you admonish him.

“No, that thought didn’t cross my mind. Don’t worry, ___. She was super sweet. She left me alone after she hugged me, I promise. You can ask Jimin if you don’t believe me,” Taehyung attempted to comfort you.

The fact that he brought up asking Jimin reassured you. Jimin can’t lie for shit, especially not to you.

“Okay, I believe you. I’m sorry for nagging you,” you say after a brief pause

“You could never nag me. I think I have some free time next week. What do you say to a street food date?”

“In Myeongdong?” you ask excitedly.

“Where else?” he laughed.

“Absolutely. 100% yes,” you cheer.

“Perfect, I’ll see you then, angel,” he bids you goodbye before hanging up.

A few uneventful days pass. You miss Taehyung (as always do), but seeing that picture of him with another idol really didn’t sit well with you. Taehyung always had the tendency to see the best in people. That’s not a bad thing, but sometimes it ends up hurting him. You can’t stand the thought of someone using him to their advantage.

You were in the middle of a work assignment when your back started to hurt. Working from home is a blessing, but sometimes you get so roped into it that you don’t take a break for hours on end.

You get up to stretch and drink some water. Whipping out your phone, your fingers automatically open up your social media app. What you saw nearly made you spit out your water.

“BTS IDOL SPOTTED WITH SAME GIRL, CONFIRMING GIRLFRIEND SPECULATION!”

This time you don’t hesitate to open the page. Your eyes scanned over the multiple pictures of Taehyung and the girl laughing at a restaurant, sitting at the same table. Anyone would assume that they were on a date. The girl was feeling up on his arms and chest again, and the sight of it made you sick to your stomach.

[5:20pm] I don’t think I can make it to the street food date

[5:30pm from Tae] What? Why? Is everything okay?????????

[5:31pm from Tae] ???????

[5:32pm from Tae] ??????????

[5:35pm] Idk, why don’t you ask your new girlfriend? *link sent*

[5:37pm from Tae] ___, this is just another misunderstanding. You know the tabloids have nothing better to do than to gossip.

[5:38pm] I really don’t like this girl.

[5:38pm from Tae] Why? You’ve never met her lol

[5:40] I just have a bad feeling. When have I ever been wrong about something like this?

[5:41pm from Tae] You’re just being paranoid, love. She’s just a huge fan. She wanted me to give her tips on being a successful idol.

[5:42pm] and you had to do it over a meal? You couldn’t have just texted her?

[5:43pm from Tae] What has gotten into you??

You were crying at this point. You felt that you were being reasonable. Your gut instinct was telling you that something was off about that girl. Taehyung just made you feel like a fool for questioning it.

[5:50pm] Please don’t see her anymore. For me.

[5:52pm from Tae] She’s my fan first and foremost. I wouldn’t be where I am without people like her. Her manager asked PD if we can have a joint company lunch, and he agreed. I’ll be seeing her tomorrow, and that is out of my control.

You didn’t reply for the rest of the night. You curled up into a ball and cried yourself to sleep. You hated this. You hated being in a secret relationship. You just wanted to love Taehyung proudly and openly. It wasn’t fair that some random girl was able to do what you should have been doing all along.

You were extremely unproductive the next day. All you could think about was Taehyung. You wanted nothing more than to cuddle up in his arms and forget everything that has happened.

Your mind wandered to the joint company luncheon. That girl was probably all over him again, but he would just view it as her being a friendly fan. The thought hurt your heart. There had been no conversation between the two of you the entire day.

An episode of My Hero Academia played on your laptop as you huddle around it eating a bag of popcorn that was supposed to serve as your dinner. You didn’t have the energy to cook or go out to eat, but at least you were eating something (that was your flawless reasoning to yourself).

Your phone buzzes beside you. You see Taehyung’s call but ignore it. You were sad earlier, but further reflection turned your mood into one of pure annoyance. The whole situation was ridiculous and just wanted to be left alone for now.

Your phone buzzed continuously as Taehyung repeatedly called. You turned your phone off and turned your attention back to the show.

An hour later there was a knock on the front door. You opted to ignore it and pretend you weren’t home. The knocking persisted. The knocking persisted for a whole 15 minutes.

Fed up, you go to answer it.

“What do you want--”

“I’m sorry,” Taehyung said, hiding his face behind a beautiful bouquet of carnations.

You were shocked. Here you were, not showered and still in your pjs with your mouth agape as Taehyung was dressed up in a Gucci suit looking as if he were about to walk the red carpet. He shyly thrust the bouquet towards you while looking down bashfully.

“Sorry for what?” you cross your arms.

“You were right. About the girl. She tipped off the paparazzi about the company lunch today. She tried planting a kiss on me as soon as she saw me. She made a scene about me “leading her on” in front of everyone. It was a huge mess and PD was furious. There will be a small press conference tomorrow to disperse any rumors,” he explains.

You finally took the flowers from him and wordlessly retreated back into your apartment. He followed you inside.

“I told you so,” you huff, not looking at him.

“I know, angel, I know,” he hugs you from behind, “I want you to come to the conference tomorrow.”

“Me? Why?” you question.

“Moral support,” he replied succinctly before kissing the back of your head.

“Fine,” you agreed.

“You wanna eat in tonight?” he asks.

“You have the time to eat dinner with me?” you slightly cheer up.

“I can even stay the night. If you’d let me, of course,” he spins you around to look you in the eyes.

“I suppose I can let you stay,” you fail at suppressing a smile.

Taehyung orders your favorite takeout food and you eat together on the couch while watching a random movie. You lent Taehyung one of your bigger shirts so that he wouldn’t get his expensive suit dirty.

“Why’d you even show up here in that?” you giggled as he stepped out wearing your shirt with just his underwear.

“I wanted you to know that I was being serious. Also, I’m wearing this at the press conference tomorrow.”

“Ah, there it is,” you laugh.

You drive Taehyung to the press conference the following morning. You enter the building separately, which was a normal occurrence. Taehyung disappears to join the rest of the boys as you sat in the back of the conference room, trying to appear like an intern. Not drawing any attention to yourself became an essential skill. It allowed you to unofficially accompany Taehyung to various events.

Lights flashed and voices raised as the boys entered the room. They all looked nervous, but Taehyung looked the most anxious. He kept glancing around the room until he finally saw you. He shot you a faint smile before taking stepping to the podium as the rest of the boys sat behind him.

“Taehyung! Is it true that you led the young idol on when you had no real intentions of dating her?” a reporter shouted.

“No, that’s not true at all. I was under the impression that she was an ARMY who just wanted tips on how to be a successful idol. No romance was ever involved,” Taehyung professionally answered.

“So you were never dating her to begin with?” another reporter questioned.

“No, I never dated that girl…” he began to trail off as his eyes meet yours, “But I am dating the most wonderful girl in the universe.”

The crowd exploded. Indistinct questions were hurled at Taehyung, but he didn’t care. He smugly smiled at your shocked face, your jaw was practically on the floor. You couldn’t believe what he just said. The boys behind him tried to hide their smiles, indicating to you that they knew what he was about to do all along.

“In time we will reveal our relationship to the public, but for now we ask for everyone to please respect our privacy. That is all,” he concluded.

He didn’t answer any further questions; instead, he promptly left the room with the rest of the band trailing behind him. You quickly exited the room and snuck your way into their practice room, where you found all of the boys.

“What the hell were you thinking?!” you scold Taehyung as soon as you saw him.

“I know you’re tired of hiding, angel. I am too. It’s time for us to be able to go on real dates without worrying who will see us,” he calmly answers.

“PD gave him the okay to reveal that he’s in a relationship. Don’t worry, neither of you will be in any trouble,” Namjoon pats your back.

“Can’t say the same for ARMY,” Yoongi adds.

“Real ARMY would understand. I love you, ___. Nothing will ever change that,” Taehyung said fondly before kissing your cheek.

“Ew hyung! Go get a room,” Jungkook teases.

You smirk at Jungkook before pulling Taehyung into a deep kiss. You didn’t care if the other boys were watching, you couldn’t contain how happy you were.

“EW ____ THAT’S WORSE!” Jungkook bellows, causing the room to erupt with laughter.

This is the start of a new chapter in your relationship, and you couldn’t wait for it to begin.

Published July 31st, 2020. No editing, copying, translating, or reposting allowed. All Rights Reserved © 2020 Baepsaesbae.

[brynnmck]

J/B Smut Swap recs!

I come bearing @jb-smut-swap recs! Presented mostly in posting order because that’s mostly how I read them, though first, my wonderful gift fic:

Jaime’s Game by @catherineflowers29 - SOFTEST BONDAGE EVER. I have told multiple people that reading this story felt like getting a warm hug, but with ropes. And a crucial part of the softness is the vulnerability between them, the way they’re so clearly building their trust in each other, taking care of each other, and there’s just a little bit of adorable awkwardness too as they negotiate this new thing together. It made my heart so glowy and happy. Cathy, thank you so much for volunteering to pick this up and delivering something so well-suited to my requests; I could feel the care you took with this and I appreciate it so much! <333

More recs below the cut ‘cause this got long (as did Jaime, HEYOOO); if I missed anyone’s Tumblr handle, please let me know!

Binary Explosive by @sdwolfpup - Okay this isn’t in posting order but I DID read this first and also it’s my blog and I make the rules. Am I biased about this fic because it’s SDW and because it was inspired by one of my favorite due South episodes? Yes. Does that make this fic any less amazing? IT DOES NOT. This is battle couple/mutual competence kink/danger kink at its finest, crackling with banter and absolutely dripping with (literally potentially lethal) sexual tension, all wrapped up in an entirely swoonworthy established relationship. The cocktail of soft and horny here is thoroughly intoxicating, and it’s so much FUN, with just the right hint of crack, and the ending makes me kick my feet in glee every time I read it (which has been, of my own volition, SEVERAL TIMES). LOVE.

Thrust Exercises by @nire-the-mithridatist - STRIP SPARRING. We’ve all said it but also oh my god STRIP SPARRING. WHAT A GENIUS THOUGHT. This is a fabulous combination of fun and sexy, and they’re so FOND in it, too--nire hits such a beautiful note of playful competitiveness and also a little shyness/awkwardness and a LOT of heat and, has been very correctly noted, a VERY wonderfully slutty Jaime. (Jaime’s premeditation regarding their wedding night is both very horny and very sweet/thoughtful, and thus very Jaime, and also his line about how he quite likes her loud face is right up there with my favorite love confessions, as well as being a thing that Jaime and I very much have in common. AGH SO GOOD.)

Second Chances by @firesign23 - I love me some JAB and the setup of this is so delicious, that Brienne is given a second chance at an opportunity she once turned down. This is another one where all three of them just LIKE each other so much--the J/B is so solid and lived-in and warm, and the history between Jaime and Addam is delicious, and the Brienne/Addam has that little thrill of newness and “oh my god we actually get to do this” (there is a kitchen kiss that is GOOD TIMES for me). So much trust and love here, it’s lovely.

crosslines, the scratches and stains by QuixoticChloe - One of two sex bruises fics in the swap, and SCORCHING hot. This whole thing has such a teasing vibe to it, and a sense of dirty discovery within an established relationship, and the whole “we’ve got a sexy secret and we’re gonna torture each other with it as much as possible” aspect was A LOT. Damn.

Diplomatic Relations by @eryiscrye - In which Jaime and Brienne get married and proceed to scandalize/delight/horrify the entire continent with their loud married sex. IT’S GREAT. It’s Eryi’s so you know it’s gonna be super hot, and she really touched on so many of the greatest hits here: cave sex, armory sex, water sex, quiet sex, alcove sex, SO MANY GOOD CHOICES and so much sweetness to go with them, too. And the other characters’ pained/pleased observations were hysterical. SO much fun.

Apart, Together, Together Apart by greenmtwoman - Oof, this one made my chest ache in the best way. It’s so soft and romantic and LONGING and full of equal parts Brienne and Jaime’s devotion to each other and devotion to their respective duties, which feels incredibly true to them. The way this story builds and releases and then slowly builds tension again is lovely, and it’s bittersweet, but very full of hope for their future.

left your fingerprints all over me by @writergirl2011 - Friends-with-benefits-to-dating, yessssss. The banter in this was adorable, and the connection between them was so palpable, and it was delightful to watch them finally acknowledge their feelings. 

Good Long Line of Praises by @aliveanddrunkonsunlight - In which Brienne discovers that Jaime has a praise kink and we ALL get to benefit. Actually the praise goes both ways here, and the result is lovely--they take each other apart at the same time they’re holding each other very closely, and it’s a wonderful mix of sweet and sexy. Another established relationship fic that included so much joy of discovery built over a strong foundation.

Nights Avoiding Things Unholy by @forbiddenfantasies1 - I was lucky enough to get a sneak preview of this one and when I tell you that it has been living rent-free in my mind ever since... this is LUDICROUSLY, brain-cell-incineratingly hot, with so many delicious horny details, but also with FF’s trademark gigantic heart behind it (I feel like heart + hornt is basically FF’s brand and I love this for all of us). Again, you get such a strong sense that these two LIKE each other so much, even when they’re a little resentful and a lot scared about it, and the filth is so full of genuine affection that it makes it all the more devastating. I literally read this and was like “shit, I gotta up my game” regarding my own draft, lol. SO GOOD.

Light My Fire by @wildlingoftarth - While I fully respect and celebrate the union suit kink, I don’t have strong feelings about it, myself, but this fic made me a convert. The painstakingly sexy descriptions here were SO MUCH, and I’m also such a huge sucker for the slightly chaotic camp counselors vibe of this, that sort of euphoria and recklessness that overtakes you when something time-bound is about to end. The banter was adorable, there were so many moments that made me giggle, and of course it was hot as hell too and I’m very glad that these two dorks FINALLY figured it out.

Clothes (un)Make the Man by @aviss - CLOTHES-SWAPPING YESSSSS. I am such a sucker for that and Aviss delivered on it beautifully; seeing the progression of their relationship was so delightful and the feelings built so well throughout, and there were a couple of lines that made me laugh out loud, and, again, both the tension and the smut were super hot. LOVELY.

I’ll never let you go (if you promise not to fade away) by LadyRhiyana - This fic is going to HAUNT ME in the BEST POSSIBLE WAY. For one thing, I have checked the word count MULTIPLE times to make sure it’s not ten times as long because the world here is so vivid and so affecting that it’s like some sort of magic. I adore the setting here, and Cersei’s POV is spectacular--she’s all sharp edges and frustrated longing for the things she thinks she can’t have and I felt for her SO MUCH. Both she and Jaime are just incredibly, helplessly horny for (HOT MECHANIC) Brienne, and I loved the way that LadyRhiyana made it so clear that having Brienne there shifts the balance for Jaime and Cersei just enough that all their spikes can slide together a little better instead of just eviscerating each other all the time--and yet this happens without ever making it feel like Brienne is just a conduit or a means to an end for them; all three sides of the triad feel thoroughly distinct and important (including a very deft hand with the Jaime/Cersei aspect). It’s also EXTREMELY hot, and the Jaime/Brienne aspect has so much softness to it, and Brienne is so forthright and so kind and so curious, and AGH. I loved this.

a grip so tight I couldn’t tear it apart by @janiedean - The other sex bruises fic, and this one ended up (coincidentally, I assume) being a perfect bookend to the other one--if the modern AU is all about sexy secrets, this canon-based one is all about Jaime and Brienne’s pride in each other and joy in not having to hide their relationship, gleefully declaring their love and desire for each other for everyone to see. I was so happy for them!

with those who know secret things by @sdwolfpup - This has been recced widely and DESERVEDLY SO. The amount of CARE in this fic is overwhelming, and it’s full of all of these subtle details that suddenly come into sharp focus at just the right moment to really devastate you, and by you, I mean me. The prose itself is also gorgeous--the description of Brienne in her ad came directly for my throat (as well as some other places)--and it’s beautiful to watch these two surprise and delight and take care of each other. They’re both so GOOD and Jaime is so soft and vulnerable and Brienne is so kind and incisive and THEY LIKE EACH OTHER AND WANT EACH OTHER SO MUCH I CAN’T. The whole thing is lustrous and wonderful and I adored it. 

Today Will Die Tomorrow by HNJ - This fic also DESTROYED me. The way the time shifts are handled so that we slowly put the pieces of the night together and feel the full impact of each moment, the understated delicacy and very obvious love with which both Jaime and Brienne are handled, the multiple lines that made me catch my breath with how TRUE they were, the way their love for each other uncurls and opens up to the light over the course of the story... it’s really gorgeous and just burrowed right into my heart. I also loved that this was a canon-based first time that focused more on Brienne not knowing what to do emotionally than not knowing what to do physically; I’ve read and enjoyed the latter a bunch of times but the former felt really fresh and fascinating; it was an excellent take. 

Hush by @kiraziwrites - I have a thing for quiet sex anyway, and like everyone else, I will be suing kirazi for the fact that this fic left my brain a smoldering wreckage with nary a coherent thought left for the comment box. The sex in this is so deliciously varied and dirty and every bit of it feels somehow decadent and completely necessary at the same time, and watching their relationship build as they try each new thing is wonderful, and there are so many images in this that have burned themselves into the empty space where my brain used to be and taken up permanent residence. I could list MANY, but a sampling: the glacier comparison, and Brienne’s teeth-marks in Jaime’s jacket, and also Brienne DROPPING A CONDOM IN JAIME’S POCKET AND PROPOSITIONING HIM ARE YOU ACTUALLY TRYING TO END MY LIFE, KIRAZI. It’s also so funny and so fond and the fact that it’s literally exactly 5K is such a flex, I can’t even. Gah. TOO MUCH.

we used to wait by @it-may-be-dull-but-im-determined - I was reading things in update order and I kept thinking that I hadn’t read one yet that I could clock as jencat’s, and then kirazi was flailing about this fic and how beautiful the prose was and how strong a sense of place it had and I was like aha without even having read it yet. And this fic is indeed those things, as well as being sexy as fuck; Jen just drags the tension out and out in this very deliberate-yet-spare-yet-somehow-also-lush way until you want to claw your face off (and then she makes it totally worth the wait, too). Their relationship had some wonderful details, too, to show how well-matched they are--Jaime increasing the speed on his treadmill to match Brienne’s, rather than to exceed it, wasn’t what I was expecting and worked fabulously in this context--and the image of Jaime leaning against the wall at a crucial moment was SO MUCH. Whew. Just lovely.

The Waters and the Wild by LadyRhiyana - The last entry in the swap but by no means the least! This was another one where I couldn’t believe how much happened in such a short space; the descriptions were so vivid and cinematic, I could see the whole landscape unfold in my head, and it included some high-quality competence kink, too. We get just enough backstory to be fully invested in this version of Jaime and Brienne, including their delightful hidden-identity initial meeting, and the tension and affection and trust and frustration between them just simmers and simmers until it inevitably boils over and it’s incredibly satisfying. I also thoroughly adored the ending--including Brienne being as indignant as Jaime at [redacted]--and I would buy this movie so fast if it actually existed. 

[valhallasubstitute]

I Won’t Ask You To Stay...

Sihtric x reader

Prompt #3 – ‘Kiss and make up’

Because of his love for you Sihtric wants to keep you safe but you can’t help feel that it’s more than a little hypocritical with his line of work.

WARNINGS: the f bomb, angst with a soft ending tho

Tags: @flowers-in-your-hayr  @geekandbooknerd

Wc: 1129

‘You of all people don’t get to tell me what is and isn’t safe!’

‘Everything I do, and have done, is to keep you safe!’

You watched Sihtric pace, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he tried to stay calm. You on the other hand where everything but – venom seeping into your voice.

‘I don’t need you to keep me safe, I can look after myself and God knows I do it often enough.’

‘What is that supposed to mean, Y/N?’

He looked directly at you then, outrage and hurt evident in the same eyes that looked at you like you had put the sun in the sky. Even in the heat of your anger, you could feel regret bubble in the pit of your stomach, but the truth couldn’t sit in your throat forever.

‘You’re never here! You don’t get to lecture me on safety while I have to watch you ride off to fuck knows where to fight God knows who. I never know if I’ll get to hold you again or bury you!’

Tears were threatening to spill from your eyes, but before the weight of your confession could settle between the two you, you pushed past him. 

The sight of his shield, propped up against the door of your home, sent a fresh wave of love fueled rage through your body.

The round, worn wood encompassed all the rage and resentment, your fear and your passion. It was the thing that kept him safe and the thing that ripped him away. Duty and loyalty and God’s testament of a true man. Your warrior and heart, he left both your body and mind aching when he rode away and filled your lungs with air when he returned.

It was too much and never enough.

It clanged as you kicked it, the force causing the metal rim to dent as it hit the wall. For a moment you thought about staying, picking up the battle worn safeguard and throwing yourself in to Sihtric’s arms.

The moment passed as the echo of wood on clay brick faded and Sihtric’s stillness forced your feet in the opposite direction.  You walked through the village, your face as foreboding as a storm cloud until you reached the gates. 

This was the cause of your argument, your wanderings and whims. The call of nature calming you far more than pacing your home, even if Uhtred was disliked by the Saxons and their Kings and the Danes who crossed the ocean and inevitably, his path.

Sihtric’s affection for you put you in more danger than the average person and with Dane sightings just across the river on the rise you knew he wasn’t out of order to worry. But your safety wasn’t always something he could guarantee and with the amount of time he was gone you had learned to look after yourself.

You weren’t a woman to be controlled and that was one of the reasons Sihtric had fallen for you. Stubborn and impulsive with wit and a smile that would have even Alfred surrender his crown, you were his match and he was yours.

The anger you felt washed away with the laps of water at the riverside, cold water teasing your feet as you settled on the spikey grass. The evening breeze passed you by and you cursed yourself for not bringing a shawl, if Sihtric were here he would smirk at you before opening his arms. You would settle and he would smile properly, the expression reserved for those he loved and his love for you was something he never wished to deny.

The thought brought a smile to your lips, but it slipped into a sigh in the same breath.

You avoided passing by both Uhtred’s hall and the alehouse on your way home, the thought of seeing Sihtric drinking with his friends wouldn’t do your temper any good, nor your resolve to apologize.

Your heart began to race when warm orange drifted through your window, your footsteps becoming tentative as you slipped through the door.

Sihtric sat at the table, brows furrowed in concentration and the dented shield between his knees. You watched the way his jaw flexed and the dexterity of his fingers as he mended the damage you had caused.

You approached slowly, giving him every opportunity to stop your advance but he didn’t deny you. Placing your hand over his you halted his movements and it was then that he looked at you. His eyes bore into yours but the intensity of the hour before was lost to gentle annoyance.

‘You went to the river, didn’t you?’

You only nodded in response, words forming and then dying on your tongue. Sihtric’s smile was bittersweet, as he nodded in acknowledgement. What you had said was the truth but Sihtric wasn’t a child or an unaccomplished warrior, nor where you some helpless maiden.

You removed the tool from his hand and placed it on the table, the action didn’t spark any questions, so you continued. You picked up the shield with care and placed it with the same softness one would have with a small child.

You slipped into Sihtric’s arms, straddling his thighs as he buried his face in your neck. The scent of his washed over you and your anxiety faded like darkness at dawn. You pulled him closer to you, your arms wrapping around his neck, fiddling with the hair that fell there.

‘I’m sorry…’

The words came out as a muffled whisper, but the weight of them was just as heavy as your previous words. You hoped Sihtric would know just how much you meant them too.

‘I’m sorry too.’ The touch of his lips against your skin was feather light but it brought a smile to your face. ‘I do not wish to fight with you Y/N, I want you safe. Always.’

‘I want the same. I do.’

‘What are we to do then my love?’

You pulled back slightly, looking him in the eye before resting your forehead on his. You could feel the rhythm of his heart as your hand fell to his chest. The steady beat of it matching your own.

‘I won’t ask you to stay… But I will ask that you come back to me.’

Sihtric’s hands cupped your face, his thumb tracing light circles on your cheeks, you melted at his touch, the warmth and the callouses of his palm the closest to Heaven you’d ever been. His lips met yours with little urgency, but same passion there had always been. The passion that you had fallen in love with and the passion that would keep you both alive while apart.

‘As long as you’re here, waiting for me.’

[whumpeeblog]

TW: WHUMP, SLAVERY, TORTURE, VIOLENCE, BLOOD

Credit: this is not my original idea. Characters and writing is mine, but I was inspired by a prompt. I don’t remember the original author of the prompt but credit to them anyway.

The mangled figure mopped the floor with her tangled hair and silent tears. She scrubbed at the white tiles with what little might she had and the torn rag she had been provided with. Trembles and shivers racked her body whenever she heard the clanking of a pot, or chopping of a knife in the kitchen next to her. S’s master, K, prepared a meal for himself while his slave toiled away, attempting to turn herself invisible.

Although S attempted to avoid K’s burning gaze, she found it nearly impossible. K pounded towards the table, and set down a steaming plate, clanking it heavily on the wood to extract a startled flinch from his prisoner.

“Put the bucket in the closet,” K commanded.

With severe struggle, S clamored up from the floor, gripping the ledge of the island as leverage. Pain exploded throughout her muscles and skin with every move, but she knew better than to disobey. He could make it much worse than it already was. She limped to the utility closet behind the kitchen, and dumped the bucket, setting it down with the rag inside.

“Hurry up!” The accented voice crashed from the dining room.

Oh god I’ve upset him. He’s gonna hurt me.

S scurried messily to the dining room, then dropped to her knees with a wince and small groan. She had the drill memorized well. Keeping her eyes to the ground and kneeling to face her master, she patiently, yet painfully, waited for him to finish his meal. S was prepared to retrieve whatever he wanted at a moments notice, whether that be something as simple as a napkin, or his favorite jagged whip for his own gruesome amusement. The results of silent submission proved themselves less painful than defiance.

K unsheathed his dagger, then brandished it before slicing off a piece of easily tearable turkey breast.

“Open,” he demanded. He lowered the small piece to the child’s mouth, and she obeyed, starving for an ounce of nourishment. The tender meat landed on her tongue, guided by K’s rough hands. His gesture of kindness tasted of bittersweet sadism. S was given a bit more food and bread; not a lot, but it was better than starving.

K’s rough fingers suddenly twisted into S’s roots, and ripped her head back, exposing her throat. A gasp dropped from her lips, and she lowered her eyelids, so as not to look her master in the eye. Harsh punishments came with unwanted eye contact. Hyperventilation raked through her lungs. K had been brandishing the knife before, and S was fairly confident that he was about to use it on her throat.

A cold shiver erupted when a trickling stream of chilly water dripped into S’s mouth and down her throat, as well as outside of her mouth and onto her neck. K allowed her to gurgle the water until he felt she had had enough.

“Clear the table.”

K’s chair scratched against the tile as he rose. His fingers snapped and pointed to the half consumed plate of food on the table. He was aware exactly of what he was doing. He left the food as a test, as well as a form of torment, after giving his slave a small amount of what she could have.

S eyed the food hungrily, her starving insides reminding her with painful stabs of malnourishment. She knew better than to even try to sneak a bit of food in. He always saw. He always knew, and his eyes pierced through her with every cruel glare.

K sank into the couch, and grabbed a remote next to him. S mentally noted his hawklike gaze from the corner of his eye. Hoarse moans of pain whined from her throat as S limped back and forth across the kitchen floor. Her back stung dully from the deep scars of the many whippings and beating she had received in the past five years. Cuts and bruises painted a picture of torment on her canvas of skin, and the burning soles of her feet were still slightly raw from being whipped. Most recently, she had been severely tortured for her assistance in an important prisoner’s escape. K had finally decided to break her after the defiant stunt, and was succeeding. For five years she had been a deviant, rebellious slave to him and her previous masters, and no one had taken the time to break her into the slave she should be. K’s last torture session had lasted a month, and had bent the girl into submission to his demands.

S picked up the dishes and washed them, her stomach aching in anger as she scraped each full dish into the trash; a waste of good food. She soon finished washing and drying the last dish, then set it inside the white cupboard. Tears ignited with each step she took towards her master. She would learn to live with the painful wounds Keith had burdened her with, but each limp made her want to cry out in agony and beg for her death.

A sadistic smirk etched itself on K’s lips. His stormy eyes observed the girl hobbling towards him. At least her feet were beginning to heal and she wouldn’t get much, if any, blood on the carpet.

S kept her eyes low and knelt at K’s feet, prepared to stay in that position until he decided it was time to chain her in the dungeons for the night. Her broken soul cherished the last bit of freedom she would get before being dragged to the dingy cells beneath the massive fortress. K stared at the tv for a few moments.

“Look at me.”

S’s gaze rose to meet his. Fear bolted though her blood, and a shiver drowned her in terror when K’s line of vision struck her own. She trembled, unsure as to what her king would do to her now.

K patted the couch next to him.

“Come here,” his accent commanded her.

S hesitated. She wasn’t allowed to even lean on the furniture. She was a prisoner, after all. Her place was in the dirt with the rest of the wretches that served K. Her eyes darted left and right, searching his face for a sign of sarcasm. His features were serious however. He had given her a direct order, and she must obey. Either way, he would most likely punish her for rule breaking, so may as well follow the order. S attempted to rise, nearly toppling back into a mangled pile on the floor. K then stood, lifting her up by her arms. A soft blanket draped itself over her bare shoulders, covering her scars, fresh wounds, and branding marks. The child flinched when the fabric blanketed her body. The only touch she was accustomed to was pain.

Why is he doing this?

“Sit.”

S cautiously leaned against the edge of the white couch. K sat to her left, then pulled the chain on the lamp to his left, clothing the room in darkness.

“Come closer.”

The captive slid back against the couch, and skidded towards K. Terrified pupils stared into nothingness, and a brainless body leaned against its captor.

K slid his arm around S, a taunting act of false care and security. He turned on the television, flipping to a channel playing an unknown movie.

Intrigued thoughts clouded S’s mind. She didn’t know what to make off K’s sudden kindness. Then she realized that it wasn’t a kindness at all and that he was torturing her again. On the screen, a movie containing a man being tortured flickered.

The mans body was being ripped apart, by bit. The screams of the man were almost unbearable as the first method of torture was removing the mans fingernails. They were torn off, one by one.

The oxygen in S’s lungs caught in her throat, and she whimpered, unable to breath. K snickered.

“Do you know why you are watching this?” He questioned cruelly.

S shook her head in misery, tears splattering the couch beneath her.

“That’s what I’m gonna do to you.” K pointed to the screen, and S let out another soft groan of anguish.

Her breaths became rapid and hyperventilation began to take over her body. The shrieks of the man, who was now having his fingers slowly cut off, pierced through her skull, leaving her shivering. The little bit of food that K had blessed her with rose, and she swallowed it back, leaving a burning trail of fear in her throat. Pressure pounded her brain, and her thoughts became dark, foggy clouds. She couldn’t think or speak. Whimpers sounded from the trembling figure as she hid her face in her master’s chest. It was all she knew to do.

K shook the girls shoulders, chuckling under his breath.

“I want you to watch.”

The wails of the man on the screen stopped S’s brain and heart, and the room spun in a dizzy craze. Her eyes raised to watch the man being flayed and cut into pieces, blood soaking the wooden torture table he was chained to. The man flailed in utmost agony and torment.

K looked on without a second thought. The torture didn’t bother him. He had done the exact process to prisoners countless times.

“I’m gonna do that to you, but I’m gonna make it a thousand times worse,” K bragged, rubbing the sobbing figure’s bare, shredded back. Sensory overload. K’s gentle touches seared the wounds on her spine. The horrifying soundtrack from the screen froze her heart in pure dread. A putrid ache filled her stomach and rose into her throat as she watched the gory movie.

Although aware of the rules that forbid her from speaking without permission, her tongue could only roll off the words “Please.” The words were whispered under her wavering breath, and each intake of air wheezed in panic.

K broke out into laughter, then tethered S closer to his chest with his arms, securing her at his mercy. He wouldn’t force her to watch any longer. He allowed her to sob into his chest, soaking his white shirt. He wrapped the blanket tighter around her, covering her half naked body. His brawny arms shifted, and his hands sunk into her bloody, matted hair.

Was that pity he was feeling for her? He disdained the thought of himself being kind to her like he used to be. He had always been cruel to her, but there were a few times that he had allowed her to live freely in his home, and treated her like a human. The most recent was before she set one of his prisoners free. He had almost gained a friendly relationship with his captive, although she was openly intimidated by his presence. Over the past five years, she had seen his mercy and his wrath, and she feared what he could easily do to her.

A sorrow drenched him as S’s tears finally silenced and she fell into an unconscious state of sleep in his arms. He ran his fingers through her roots, not bothered in the least about the bloody trail she left on his fingers.

Pity is weakness.

Sandpaper fingers stretched down to wipe drying tears from a tormented face. S slept, whimpering and trembling with each breath she took. K only latched on to her tighter, then rose, carrying her bridal style to the cell where she spent most of her nights.

He wove through the underground tunnel and dungeon system to one of the torture chambers, which was where the executioner, A, resided.

The choice between throwing her in a cell or chaining her down to the torture table bounced around in his brain. She had seen enough kindness for one night. K laid S’s bare spine on the splintered wood. He tied her hands outstretched above each side of her head using rope, then transferred to her ankles. Several months back, she had been fitted with permanent shackles. These contained thorn like spikes on the inside of them that were driven into her ankle bones when secured. They couldn’t be removed by simple lock and key, and freeing her from them would prove painful. K latched a strand of chain to the shackles, securing her ankles to both sides of the table.

[crystalirises]

In The Wreckage of Exile (Safe and Sound Part I)

What was casted away... shall be found.

(An alternative take in which, Eret and Fundy find Tommy during exile, thus changing history.)

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31232840/chapters/77199998

"You really need to chart a map, son. You can't keep losing an entire country." Eret ran a hand through their disheveled hair, nearly knocking the flower crown that Fundy had given them off of their head as they peered around at the forest they had both gotten lost in. Fundy scouted ahead, sunlight casting his ginger hair with an angelic and warm glow, his fox ears twitching every so often. "We've been walking for miles now, Fundy. I'm quite sure this isn't the way to Drywaters."

In truth, Eret was quite sure that they’d gone the complete opposite way.

Fundy casted a look over his shoulder, traces of exhaustion clear on his face as he finally leaned against a tree. Eret slowly walked up to him, dark shades glancing down at the fox hybrid as they took a momentary break. Fundy's golden-flecked brown eyes traced the area they were in, coming to the horrible conclusion that yes, he had gotten them lost again. "Sorry, ren. I'm not the best when it comes to direction."

They took a deep breath, their heart aching with pain for their companion, their friend, their son. Eret didn’t mind the long trek towards the wilderness, having been the one to suggest they go to Drywaters to take Fundy’s mind away from his troubles. A walk was sufficient enough for that.

"It's alright, Fundy. You're just tired is all." Eret placed a hand on Fundy's head, caressing his hair before settling next to him. They weren't in a hurry, it would do both of them some good to rest. "Tell me when you're ready."

They watched Fundy run a hand through his hair, ginger and white strands blending in together, but he didn’t get too far before his fingers touched Eret’s hand. Fundy smiled, holding onto Eret for a moment before his eyes turned back towards the ground. There was a guilty look in Fundy’s gaze, his mouth curled into a grimace while his free hand reached down to pick at the end of his shirt. Eret tsked at the small holes at the bottom of Fundy’s clothing. It was inevitable with Fundy’s nails being so sharp, but if it helped Fundy calm down then Eret would not stop him.

"I should've made a map, ren. Now, we're lost."

They shook their head, patting Fundy on the head and scratching him behind the ears. The fox hybrid sighed, leaning into the touch with a small smile on his face. Eret smiled along with him. They’d rather not Fundy be upset, that was the opposite of their goal after all. They continued to pet Fundy until his tail was wagging, the fluffy fur of orange and white thumping against the tree’s bark. They gave Fundy one last pat, happy to see Fundy’s contented and joyful smile.

"We'll find our way to Drywaters. Think of this as an adventure. We never know what secrets lurk within the wilderness." Eret surveyed the thick foliage of the forest, not a single sign of civilization for miles. They only hoped a mob wouldn't appear out of nowhere. As they looked around, they noticed a thin line of smoke emerging from the treetops a distance away. It was a small wisp of smoke, barely visible in the brightness of day that colored the forest with its golden hue. Eret wondered who could possibly be living in the middle of nowhere, slightly worried that a familiar pinkette would appear to threaten them for being on his territory. Eret shook their head, knowing that Techno wouldn't do anything to harm them if Eret just explained that they were lost. Techno wasn't cruel enough to simply strike them for existing… unless they were orphans. "Fundy, I see smoke over there. We should try to move towards it, if we're lucky we might find the ever elusive Dream's house."

Fundy scoffed beside them, rolling his eyes until Eret could only see the whites. Without really meaning to, they reached up towards their sunglasses, adjusting them for a moment despite them having not moved at all. Fundy peered up at the wispy smoke, raising an eyebrow at it. A bittersweet smile flashed across the fox hybrid’s face, but it quickly disappeared.

"I have a slight suspicion that he doesn't even sleep, much less have a house of his own." Fundy rolled his eyes again, pushing off the tree as they both slowly made their way towards the smoke. Fundy chewed on the inside of his cheek, picking at the sleeve of his shirt as they drew closer towards what he could only hope was not a painful death trap. There weren't many people who wandered this far into the desert, fearful of what horrifying and bloodthirsty monsters lurked in places where no man dared to travel. Fundy knew firsthand how terrible the outside world could be outside the confines of the Essempy. His father was a man who travelled the world, and Fundy used to have the same urge for adventure… until he had wandered into a dark forest filled with beasts that should never see the light of day. He shook his head, tearing the memories from his mind as he followed after Eret. As they neared, he took notice of the trees, slight indentations of axe markings digging into their barks. Some marks looked fresh and horribly made, as if whoever left them was too weak to hold the axe properly. Someone was actually living here. Eret paused too, their gaze meeting Fundy's. "Uhm… You know we could always turn around—"

"I'm sure we'll be fine, Fundy."

They both stumbled into a clearing, a beachfront that overlooked a never-ending ocean. Eret took notice of the shabby white tents that had been set up, the shelters covered in grime and dirt. Nature truly was a cruel mistress, how anyone could live here was beyond Eret’s understanding. A small dirt path led up towards a poorly made cabin, if one could even call it a cabin that is. The wood was splintering and rotting at the sides, threatening to collapse on whoever dared tried to stay in it. It was a pitiful sight, clearly made with limited resources… or the person was too weak to finish it… or the person had held no desire to actually finish its construction.

They inspected the pitiful structure, noticing the lack of roof for shelter and the various holes that littered its sides. From their angle, they could just about see the numerous amounts of chests that decorated the back wall of the structure. They looked back towards Fundy, noticing the way Fundy was sniffing at the air, like he was picking up on a muted smell. Eret didn’t know what it was, but there was a familiarity in the air. A scent of past regrets and the destruction of hope…

"There's a nether portal over there, we could probably use it to head back home." Fundy walked into the clearing, seeing the familiar hue of purple against the color of dark green grass and soft yellow sand. He slowly made his way over to it, his eyes shifting towards the destroyed nether portal just below the one he was currently standing next to. Maybe he should take the obsidian… "Ren, I'm going to mine the obsidian for a sec, okay? At least we can get home with this… Gods, know where we even are by this fucking point. I want nothing more than to go home and sleep."

Eret didn't get the chance to respond before Fundy began to mine the second nether portal. They smiled, putting in a reminder in their head to make tea once they both got home. Fundy would insist on hot chocolate but Eret knew very well that Fundy was allergic. They shook their head at the thought, turning instead to look around the strange area. "I'll be right back, Fundy!"

"Don't die! Or else I'm stealing your stuff!"

"Don't burn the forest while I'm not looking, Fundy! I mean it, son!" Eret heard the indignant and insulted scoff, saw the glint of mischief in the fox hybrid's eyes before they finally headed closer towards the shack. Fundy wouldn’t dare. Even if he did, Eret knew that they had a bucket of water within their inventory. As they walked through the dirt pathway, they looked at the unlit tiki torches that they supposed lit up the path during the nighttime. It felt lonely. A lit path at night, with perhaps only one person traversing it. Eret shivered at the thought of such solace and silence. In the far distance, they saw what appeared to be a roughly put-together Christmas tree decorated with bits of broken glass and fraying pieces of dyed wool. It looked like a mess.

Yet it felt painful to look at. They glanced at the poorly placed pieces of wool on the lanky tree, Eret could only hope that it didn’t decide to collapse the moment Eret looked away. Someone had placed the wools on the tree’s rotting branches, pieces of string barely holding them up while others had already collapsed to the ground. The pieces of glass glinted underneath the sunlight, casting the ground with shimmers of golden light. At night, Eret thought, it probably decorated the ground with the silver glow of the moon and stars. They weren’t colored glass, but shards that looked like they came from smashed bottles. Eret turned away from the sight. Their heart was beginning to ache for the poor soul who had tried to feel some semblance of Christmas joy.

They stopped at the shack's small entrance, barely big enough for anyone to truly fit through. Eret glanced inside, finally seeing those rows of chests within the small cabin. They turned away, heading over towards one of the tents.

Eret paused midway.

Their eyes widened for a moment, their feet carrying them towards a particular spot on the ground. Eret blinked, mouth hanging open for a second. Someone was here. Someone was here and they needed help. Eret stood by the edge, eyes casted low. They couldn’t really believe what they were seeing. A hand reached up to clutch at their chest, fingers shaking despite themselves. Eret forced themself to keep calm, breathing in through their nose. They felt nausea bubble up from within, but they forced their sickness down. It wasn’t that the sight was anything new, but it certainly was not one that they thought they’d ever see again. Not in this lifetime, at least.

There was a pit in the ground, scorch marks tainting the sides as though a fire had been set in the middle of the hole. Eret peered down, seeing small chunks of metal sticking out from the burnt earth. They crouched beside it, fingers touching the sides. The ground still felt warm, a residue of gunpowder in the air as Eret slowly backed away from what they now saw as a crater. What had happened here? They couldn't see blood anywhere, but someone has just recently been here. The smell of ash was too strong, the earth too hot for it to not be recent. Eret didn’t understand it. Why would anyone throw explosives down a hole in the ground? Something felt wrong here.

"Boo!" Eret nearly fell in as Fundy suddenly appeared behind them, cackling as Eret tried to keep their balance. They gave Fundy a look, one that just made the fox hybrid grin as he finally took a glance at what Eret was inspecting. Fundy tilted his head, his eyebrows drawn together in thought. "I know I burn forests down when I get upset, but this is a bit excessive. Dangerous too since it looks like someone dug a hole and just, ya know, plonked an explosive inside. They must have had a lot of shitty stuff if they really wanted to get rid of it all… wait… is that… are those armor pieces?"

"It seems so. Though why anyone would waste such precious resources out here in the wilderness is quite confusing." Eret looked over at the tent nearby, wondering if this area's tenant was inside. Fundy looked over, a questioning look in his eyes as though he were thinking the same thing. It wouldn't hurt to check. After all, the person living there might be injured from the explosion. They needed to check. "I'll go ahead. Stay behind me, Fundy. We have no idea or clue if the person who lives here is friendly or… not. It would be best if we did not take our chances."

"Thanks for volunteering for death first." Fundy mumbled beneath his breath, following after Eret as they slowly edged their way towards the tent. He held out his hand, his trusty axe materializing in his hold. "This is such a shitty situation, why can’t we just leave and forget this place…? But if you insist on imminent death, then okay… but… be careful, ren. I mean it."

"When have I never been careful?"

They reached the entrance to the tent, stopping as they heard shuffling from within. Eret heard labored breathing from inside, a stuttering inhale of breath as whoever it was began to move away from them and into the back of the tent. Eret pursed their lips together, worried that the stranger might run off into the woods. They wouldn't want to chase some poor soul out into the wilderness to be at the mercy of the mobs. Eret tried to peek through the small slit in the middle of the tent, seeing nothing but a moving shadow. They could see the faint outline of blonde hair at the corner, though that didn't give Eret enough information. "Hello? Is anyone here? We apologize for stumbling into your home, but we noticed the smoke from the forest and came to investigate. Are you alright? We saw the crater and wanted to see if anyone was injured."

"Eret?" They froze, a familiar voice reaching their eyes. Neither they nor Fundy hesitated before quickly entering the small tent. Fundy bit back a gasp as dull blue eyes stared at them from the corner, disbelief dancing in Tommy's gaze as he glanced at the two of them. Tears sprung from the boy's eyes as his breath stuttered into gasping sobs. Eret stood still, surprise still filtering through their veins. Tommy was here, and he looked like a mess. Even with only a sliver of light, Eret could see the tattered clothes that Tommy wore, his hair disheveled and long from what must've been months of isolation. He looked thin… too thin. Eret felt a pang in their heart. How could they have left Tommy like this? "No. No. Please. Why can't the visions just go away. Just go away. This isn't true. This isn't true. Go the fuck away you fucking bastards. Dream, if this is some sick joke of yours, just fuck off… please… I fucked up, I know! Please, leave me alone…”

"Tommy… it's us, man. Eret and Fundy!" Fundy took the first step, his boot crunching against the grass which caused Tommy to curl deeper into himself. Fundy paused before slowly crouching down until he was at the same height as Tommy. Fundy's hand hovered a bit closer as he bit the inside of his cheek, he didn't want Tommy to go into a panic the moment he tried to touch him. "Tommy, it's us! Look, I'm going to tap you on the arm, okay?"

Eret watched as Fundy moved a bit closer, tapping Tommy with one finger. Tommy stilled, confusion flitting through those his dead blue eyes as realization finally dawned upon him. "You're real… you're… you're actually here."

"We're here, Tommy. It's okay. You're safe."

Tommy's gaze suddenly turned to Eret, and for once Eret didn't see a single trace of malice in them. Tommy had never quite forgiven them for what they had done during the first war, regarding as a traitor for the rest of Eret's days. It had stung, but Eret knew that they deserved it. Guilt gnawed at their chest as they wondered if it was their fault that Tommy was in such a state. If it was their fault that it had come to this. Tommy would be happy in L'Manburg if Eret hadn't given in to the temptation of power. Tommy would be okay, Wilbur would be alive, Tubbo wouldn't have been forced into the presidency… Fundy… Fundy wouldn't have been an orphan. So many things gone wrong, and all with the press of a button. Fundy caught their eyes, a warning in them as though Fundy could hear the despicable thoughts that races through Eret's head. A weak voice brought them back to the present, "Eret… I—"

Fundy quickly caught Tommy before he could drop to the ground, the teen collapsing in utter exhaustion. He glanced at over Eret who had raced to Tommy's side, looking over for any injury that could have caused the sudden faint. Fundy sighed as Eret moved away, slight relief on their faces. Tommy must have collapsed from exhaustion. That was probably it. Fundy held onto his uncle's unconscious form, frightened by how he could feel the bones beneath his hands as he tried to hold Tommy in a comfortable position. What had Dream done to him? Fundy felt a searing anger bubble in his veins, but he didn't know who was to blame. Was it Dream for lying to them about Tommy's condition? Or was it Fundy for not stepping in to stop his uncle's exile?

"It wasn't your fault either, Fundy. We made our mistakes but we are not to blame for Tommy's condition." Eret spoke before Fundy's thoughts could go deeper. Fundy bit his bottom lip, but didn't argue, knowing that Eret could tell when he was upset. Fundy shifted his hold, one arm supporting Tommy's back and another supporting the back of his knees. Tommy's head rested against his shoulder, and Fundy wished Dream was nearby so he could take one of the man's lives, for even in sleep Tommy looked absolutely miserable. It wasn't fair. Tommy shouldn't have been left alone like this. Dream shouldn't have dared to do this. Fundy had no doubt that the crater outside was Dream's doing… Tommy wouldn't do such a thing, destroy armor for the sake of it. Fundy let out a growl, ears pressed against the top of his head as he slowly stood up. Eret followed after him, their mouth set into a thin line as they both left the tent. "We can't leave Tommy here. I don't… we shouldn't leave him here. We need to go before Dream decides to come back."

"We could take Tommy to Drywaters, I never told Dream about it. He shouldn't be able to find us there." At least, that's what Fundy hoped. He never saw the purpose of telling his ex-fiance where he planned to live. Why should he? He didn't want Dream knocking at his door one day to apologize for a relationship he probably was never invested in. Tommy would be safe at Drywaters. He and Eret could help Tommy recover there and once things have settled down, they could tell Tubbo and Phil about Tommy's whereabouts. Fundy looked over at Eret who nodded, a smile forming on their face as they began to head towards the nether portal. They could only hope they didn't bump into a familiar masked man during their trek through the nether. Fundy shivered as he realized they'd have to cross New L'Manburg to get to Drywaters. If anyone caught them… well, they were completely and utterly fucked . It was time to be sneaky. He slowed down, trying to match Eret's pace as he realized he has accidentally been walking too fast. "Do you think… Do you think Dream would try to look for Tommy?"

"Dream has a goal in mind. I have a suspicion that he needs Tommy under his complete command for it. That man is a bastard , one could never tell what his true motivations are." Eret shook their head, remembering those piercing green eyes that glared at them when they had tried to protest. "We can only hope he doesn't find us."

"If he does… I'll fucking kill him." Fundy held Tommy closer, still sick at the thought of Tommy being left alone with no one but that tyrant's company. They both finally reach the portal, the harsh sounds of the nether reaching their ears as they both take one final look at Tommy's base. Tommy lived here… for months. Poor kid, not a soul to speak to other than that despicable Dream. "I'm not letting him near, Tommy. Over my dead fucking body."

"No. It'll be over mine." Fundy tossed Eret a look, raising a brow at Eret's statement. It held truth, an undeniable one. Eret didn't know much about Dream, but a part of them knew the man had attachments. They'd seen the way Dream would pause at an empty castle hallway when he thought no one was looking. How he'd bring out a diamond ring from the inside of his sweater pocket, pressing a soft kiss on it before quickly placing it back into the safety of clothes. Eret didn't quite know what had caused the sudden break-up a few days before the scheduled wedding, but they knew Dream cared. If Dream were to ever find them, Eret would be the only to lose a life. It was alright. They had two lives to spare, and they'd gladly toss them all away -even their final life - if it meant giving Fundy and Tommy a chance to escape. Fundy could protect Tommy from then on after, but as long as Eret breathed, they wouldn't let Dream near their son and Tommy. Eret wrapped an arm around Fundy, holding him closer as they brought a sword. "No. If Dream comes for us, I want you to run. Don't look back. You have to promise me you won't look back. Tommy needs one of us to stay alive for him, and I am not letting Dream kill you. Now, do you promise to run if he comes to attack us?"

"I'm not promising that, ren. I'm not leaving you with Dream of all people. I'm staying by your side. I'm not losing another parent figure." Fundy rolled his eyes, inhaling as he tried to shake away the tears. He knew Tommy needed them both, needed someone who could actually serve as a parent instead of a confused nephew who didn't know what to do. Tommy needed Eret. "I can't lose you, ren. And Tommy can't lose you too. We both need you."

"I know, son, but Dream is a stubborn man." Eret gripped Fundy a bit closer, wishing that Fundy would just promise them that. Fundy held his ground, a smug grin on his face. "I suppose, you of all people should know that. Son, you know what could happen if we come across him. You know. He’s dangerous when it comes to his goals. Can you please just promise me that—"

"No. Insert heart here."

Eret laughed at Fundy's antics. Fine. If Fundy wouldn't promise them that then Eret would just have to fight hard enough to keep them all alive. Dream wouldn't know what hit him. At least, Eret could hope that they’d have the element of surprise over the man. Still, it was a long trek home and the nether is not a place one wishes to be trapped in while being hunted. Before they could get home, they needed to survive the nether first… and perhaps even Dream.

"Are you ready?"

"Let's go home."

Eret glanced down at Tommy, giving him a gentle smile.

“Don’t worry, Tommy. We’re getting you out of here.”

“And Dream can suck it!”

Eret sighed, chuckling.

Eret could only hope and pray that Dream wouldn’t find them.

They stepped into the portal, leaving behind the traces of bad memories and misery.

Goodbye Logstedshire, you won't be missed.

[imnotasuperhero]

Wrap your love around me (like we’re supposed to be)

Omg, I don’t even know how to explain the mixed feelings I have with this one. This literally flowed out of my mind and crushed my heart at the same time it healed it.. This is easily my favorite story so far. I love writing Wanda so much and I thank @creepingwolfberry for requesting this. I truly hope you guys get to enjoy this beautiful baby of mine. Please don’t hate me (:

Disclaimer: I wrote this while drinking, so all mistakes are mine.

Check out the moodboard here!

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: Wanda decides it’s time for a much needed break from avenging. The chance of meeting someone (you) never crossed her mind. Yet, it happened. Would you fight for this?

Or, requested as a song drabble for Orange Trees by Marina.

Wordcount: 1127

Wanda has been waiting for this moment for a few months now, so to say she was excited was an understatement.

You see, life as an Avenger could get a little -a lot- stressful. So when her index finger landed in some random point in the globe they held in the compound, she couldn't help the huge smile that took over her face. Her mind was made. With quick feet, she got to her room and started to pack for a month. Her mind already starting to picture herself under the warm sun by the sea. Maybe a cocktail in hand as the calmness of the island washed over her just nicely.

***

After checking in the hotel, she decided to go explore the surroundings in search of adventure. After all, free spirits like hers couldn't be held in the same place for long.

So here she found herself. Piña colada in hand, contemplating the soft pink and orange of the setting sun painting a nice contrast against the blue sea. The peace of the scenery, despite the constant buzzing of tourists and locals alike, a welcomed change for her overworked mind.

"You must be the reason for global warming because you're hot," a deep voice said behind her to which Wanda turned. Her eyes going directly to you instead of the man the words came from.

Wanda hurried herself to think something to reply while trying to maintain calm under your scrutiny. "Actually, it's primarily because of too much carbon dioxide in the atmosphere." Wanda couldn't help but smile at your laugh, patting herself in the back mentally. Maybe working alongside two nerds wasn't that bad. "Oh, my God! That was the best answer I've ever heard," you blurted between laughs, earning a grunt from your friend.

Wanda could only witness the exchange between you both with a dumb smile on her face, already lost in the sound of your voice. "Uhh... Wanda," she offered when she realized you were waiting for a reply. "Hi, Wanda. I'm Y/N, this one here is James," you offered kindly. "I'll pay my bet tonight," James kissed the side of your head before walking away not before sending a wave to Wanda, to which she replied warmly. "Don't worry. We just bet he couldn't win a girl with that lame pick-up line," you dismissed nonchalantly. "I guess I earned myself a drink?" Wanda didn't know where the confidence came from, but she was thankful for when you smiled something bright. "I like you," you quickly sat by her side at the bar. "So, what ya doing here?"

Wanda found herself immersed in an easy conversation for the rest of the evening. Random facts about each other being thrown left and right. Laugh was a nice addition to it.

Flopping in her bed, she sighed at the memory of you and she wondered if she ever let herself feel this freely before. To say she was scared of the way her heart throbbed was an understatement. She knew she had to go back home in a few weeks. "No," she muttered to herself. She couldn't let you take over her. She had bigger obligations to care of and you weren't something she needed. Or was it? Grunting, she decided to head to the shower and call it a night. The flight already catching on her tired body.

***

"Wanda!" You called as you ran to the brunette you met yesterday. "Y/N, hi." She smiled something warm and you felt your heart jump in your chest. A soft pink tinting your cheeks. "How are you?" You smiled back, offering her your coconut as you sat beside her in the sand. "I'm good, thank you," she played with the straw before taking a sip of the refreshing beverage. "You?"

A comfortable conversation settled between you both. The easiness of the situation was both, a warm, welcoming feeling and a bittersweet one. You knew she'll have to leave you in 26 days from now. Yet, you allowed yourself to enjoy every single second of it. Either with friends in tow or just the two of you, in your own personal world.

You knew this wouldn't last. None of you belonged here and sooner than later, you'd both part ways to your current, real lives. These weeks together would be nothing more than a memory.

***

"It was so nice meeting you," you smiled and Wanda could see the tears wanting to fall yet, you blinked them away. "I hope I get to see you again," she opened her arms, smiling something painful when you wrapped your arms tightly around her torso. "Me, too," you mumbled against her neck and Wanda knew you felt the way she shivered at your warm breath against her skin.

You both stayed there in each others' arms for a while, basking in the warmth and peace the moment offered you.

"I guess that's my call," Wanda couldn't help the tear that fell when the voice in the speakers' called for her flight. "I guess so," you looked at her eyes and Wanda swore she could be invincible if she let herself free fall in your gaze. "Thank you for making these, the most amazing days of my life," Wanda brought her hands to your cheeks and brushed the tears away. "I'm so thankful I've got to met you, Y/N."

Her world finally crumbled apart when you hugged her one last time. She could feel it in the way your arms surrounded her waist tightly, in the way your nose brushed against her neck as if seeking comfort. And Wanda would be lying if she wasn't tempted to just tell you who she really was and get you to come home with her. She was so close to just brake the only rule Fury gave her...

"Here's hoping we see each other again," Wanda had to command her body to actually break apart. Her heart shattering at the sadness in your face. "May I see you again," you muttered between broken sobs. Wanda's body ached to feel your warmth one more time. Forever, if it was possible.

***

Stepping off the plane, Wanda smiled sadly to herself. Memories of you both coming to her mind in welcomed -yet painful- waves. The way you liked to play with her hair braiding it, and decorating it with beautiful flowers. The way you made her feel like a world in peace was possible. The way you would hold the moon and the stars for her if she asked you to.

She knew she must hold onto the way you made her feel. And in a silent promise, she swore she'll see you again. No matter the cost, this story was far from finished.

[stevesnailbat]

i shouldn’t be feeling this, but it’s too hard to resist | robin buckley

summary: Y/N is falling for someone, but it’s not someone they planned to fall for.

warnings: mutual pining, slightest mentions of homophobia

word count: 1.9K

a/n: this fic is loosely based off girls by girl in red!! i feel like the song just fits robin so perfectly, so here’s my take on it! i’m changing my writing style to be more inclusive also, so the perspective is different on this one! the gif used above is by @harringtown once again!!!

You knew you shouldn’t have said yes to it. But there you were, sitting on the edge of Robin Buckley’s bed, chewing on your lip nervously as you waited for her to come back into the room.

You and Robin were meant to be nothing more than coworkers at Family Video, maybe acquaintances at most. You had planned on it staying that way, and on keeping your distance. But, there was always just something special about Robin. There was something about Robin's smile that was so convincing, so inviting, so beautiful. There was something that kept pulling you back in for more. 

Just friends, you told yourself, nothing more. You didn’t want it to progress into anything more—it couldn’t possibly progress into anything more, not if you wanted to save yourself from the judgement that would most likely ensue.

When the door opened once more, you had to look away, avoiding eye contact with her. You could feel her eyes on you as she walked in with the widest grin, plopping down on the bed next to where you were perched. She sat a bowl of popcorn down on the bed along with a movie and a few boxes of candy after sitting down.

“I snuck a copy of Carrie from the store, I remembered you said you liked that one.” Robin said as she leaned down to rifle through some things under her bed. “Do you want to drink? I bought some wine because I thought it’d be fun to, y’know, let loose for once.”

“Oh—uh—yeah!” you reply with a nervous smile, only making eye contact with her for a fraction of a second. “I’ll take some.”

She smiled over at you again as she pulled the bottle and corkscrew from under the bed, working to open it as soon as she took it out. You cursed yourself for how awkward you were making the situation, but it was unavoidable. Every time you looked at her you felt like your heart was going to explode, so you avoided it at all costs. You knew it was wrong, what you were feeling about her. It felt so wrong that it made the pit of your stomach turn in knots and your heart ache. The feeling wasn’t going away any time soon, though. 

Robin could tell something was up from the moment you walked into the house, truthfully. In the past four months of working with you, she’d developed a theory that you just flat out didn’t like her, so she wanted that to change. There were shifts where you would ignore her completely, and others where you’d only give her a sympathetic smile when she’d talk to you. 

She didn’t know what she did, but Robin wanted to get to the bottom of it. She had randomly sprung the idea of hanging out on you in the middle of a shift with her and Steve, you couldn’t say no to her. When you said yes, she was downright thrilled to actually get to know you after working quietly alongside you for this long. 

You couldn’t help but stare at her as she worked the corkscrew into the bottle, taking in every little detail of her face for the first time. You couldn’t bring yourself tear your gaze away as she continued, eyes wandering as she tugged her lip between her teeth. It was impossible to not think about how soft her lips looked, and how perfect she looked altogether. If someone could read your mind, they might think you were just jealous of the girl. But, truly, the feeling was something much more than jealousy. It was something along the lines of a feeling of longing and desire.

“Finally!” Robin proclaimed, setting the cork on the bed beside her as you broke from your daze. “Here, you can have the first drink and get comfortable while I get the movie set up.”

You nodded and smiled at her, but suddenly lost all desire to drink the alcohol in your hands. There was already a feeling of intoxication building inside of you, built on being around Robin alone. Just looking at her was enough to make you feel a little drunk. Her beauty was overwhelming to you, almost painful to think about in a way. Slowly, you had come to terms with the fact that what you were feeling wasn’t temporary, that what you were feeling—despite how wrong it felt—was there to stay. 

“You alright?” she asked when she turned around to see you still sitting on the edge of the bed, frozen with the untouched bottle still in your hand.

“Yeah—yeah, sorry. I’m fine.” you lied, forcing a smile onto your lips as your heart pounded against your ribs.

“You don't seem fine.” Robin pointed out, setting the movie on top of the VCR as she furrowed her brows in concern. “What’s up?” 

“It’s really nothing, I—I guess I’m just tired, that’s all.” you lied, hoping she wouldn’t see through the thinly-veiled lie you were telling. “I’m sorry, I’m not trying to be boring and fall asleep as soon as I get here."

“It’s okay!” she said quickly, moving away from the TV to sit next to you on the bed again. “We can just hang out and talk instead, if you want, of course.”

“Yeah, that’s fine!” you stammered abruptly, looking at the bowl of popcorn next to you to avoid her gaze again. 

“Are you going to homecoming next weekend?” she asked, moving around on the bed to face you once more as she broke the odd silence. 

“Yeah, I’m supposed to.” you laughed bitterly, rolling your eyes at the thought of it.

“You don't seem too thrilled about that. Do you not have a date or something?” she implored, reaching her hand out to take the bottle from your hands. “Or do you have a date and just not like them?”

“Yeah—Yeah, that one.” you said, cringing about it once more. “I’m supposed to go with my brother’s friend from the football team but I’m not interested at all. He’s—He’s just not—“

“He’s just a typical jock who’s boring and doesn’t want to have any real fun?” Robin interjected, eyebrows quirking up as a smile grew on her lips.

He’s not you, Robin Buckley. He’s not the girl with perfect skin and pretty blue eyes that looks fucking perfect in a flannel. He’s not the one who makes you want to scream into a pillow about what you were feeling. That’s what you wanted to say. You wanted to grab her by the shoulders and tell her that you really, really wanted to go with her, but you knew you couldn’t. What would your family say? What would everyone at school say? And most importantly, what would Robin even say if you told her?

“Yeah, I guess that’s probably what it is.” you sighed, shrugging your shoulders to brush it off in the most casual way possible. “I don’t want to act like I like the kid for a whole night, it feels like such a stupid waste of my time.”

“Well, don’t go with him then.” she suggested simply, watching as you tilt your head at her straightforward proposal. “Is there someone else that you actually want to go with?”

“Yeah—I mean, I don’t—I don't know.” you stuttered, a blush settling onto your cheeks as the words slipped from your lips.

“I heard you say yes at first, you can’t take that back!” she said, her eyes lighting up with amusement. “Who is it? Is it that one kid who comes into the store all the time?”

“God no! That kid isn’t in there to flirt, I think he actually just watches a different movie every damn night.” you giggled shyly, heart skipping a beat at the sound of Robin laughing with you. 

“Well, who is it then?” Robin asked again, shoving her hand into the bowl of popcorn as if she was watching some interesting movie. “Actually, just tell me about them. You don’t have to name any names, just tell me why you like them. Is that easier?”

“Yeah, that works.” you sighed, chewing on your lip as you finally looked over to her. “I don’t really know where to start, I guess. They’re really like, one of the greatest people I’ve ever met. Obviously we’ve went to school together for a while, but I really have grown to like them a lot—like a lot—in the last few months. And—And I feel like shit for pushing them away for so long, but I just can’t bring myself to fully face how I feel.”

Robin continued to listen intently as you spoke, but was catching on rather quickly. She was shocked, to say the least. She never would’ve known that you felt this way, and would’ve done something about it a lot sooner if she had. There was a twisted feeling in your gut as you spoke, looking to Robin to see the waves of realization hitting her all at once. 

“Why don’t—or didn’t—you want them to know?” Robin questioned, tearing her gaze away from yours to stare at her hands. 

“Because I’m afraid of how they feel about me, and of what other people will say if I try to be with them.” you said softly, heart sinking as Robin’s smile faded into a focused frown. 

“Yeah, I was scared too.” she replied, making your eyes go wide in shock for a moment. “I still am, I guess. I just have people who I know will actually support me, instead of ones who would disown me.”

“You—You’re—”

“Yeah, I am.” Robin laughed softly, a bittersweet smile on her lips. “I’m not very good at this whole thing yet. Which is obvious, considering I didn’t realize you might actually like me until just now.”

“Might like you?” you laughed, making her look up at you with a hope-filled gaze. “I really like you, Robin.”

“Well good.” she sighed, inching closer to you as she spoke. “Because I’m tired of shoving my feelings away every time I see you.”

You smiled, looking away for a moment as butterflies filled your gut. There was a feeling of relief in the air that was quickly replacing the dread and doubt that had filled the room minutes before. Robin reached to put her hand on top of yours, making your heart flutter for a quick moment. Her free hand hooked under your chin, pulling your gaze back to hers as she smiled at you longingly.

“I’m glad you could finally talk to me about this.” she admitted, her thumb rubbing along your cheek gently. “And I’m glad we could both get this off our chests.”

“Yeah, me too.” you replied with a nervous smile. “And since we’re on the subject, there’s something else I’ve been wanting to get off my chest for a while.”

Robin knew exactly what you were doing as she saw your eyes flicker towards her lips, but the feeling still made her heart race. You both had wanted this to happen for a while, and it was finally happening. You cupped her cheek and pulled her into the kiss, keeping it short and sweet. Her lips were just as wonderful and sweet as you had expected, and that thrilled you. 

“Do you wanna watch the movie now?” you teased, brushing a strand of her behind her ear. 

“I think the movie can wait, because I wanna do that again.” she laughed, pulling you back in for another sweet kiss.

tags (join here!) : @sourapplebaby @harringtown @jxnehxpper @charmed-asylum @heart-eye-harrington @daddystevee @a-magey @lemonypink @igotmadskills @ilovebucketbarnes @simplesammyx @willowrose99

[artificialqueens]

Tree House Kisses, Chapter 43 (Adorney) - Scorpio and Veronica

A/N: Click here for previous chapters here on AQ or here if you’d rather read on AO3. xoxo!

And thank you again to our wonderful betas: @saiphl, @sillylittlecandycane

Chapter Summary: It’s finally the night of senior prom!! It starts out great...but will it end in disaster? (Spoiler alert: yes)

Chapter 43: I Just Wanna Dance

There were a million things Courtney loved about being in the The Scarlet Pimpernel--finally getting a chance to play a lead role in a musical, the songs themselves, the beautiful costumes they’d borrowed from a nearby university’s theatre company, the warm encouragement from Mrs. Maguire, watching her friends and castmates shine, when her dad surprised her by showing up for one of the weekend shows with a bouquet of pink roses…

But her favorite thing of all was being onstage with Adore. It was the first time they’d had multiple scenes together since playing Annie and Miss Hannigan in 5th grade, and for Courtney, it made the experience a million times better.

Closing night was bittersweet. In some ways, Courtney wished that it would never end. But she was excited for prom and graduation, their Mexico road trip and their first apartment. So even though it was a little bit sad, she didn’t cling to it. Instead, she focused on the excitement she felt about everything to come, and really tried to live in the moment, committing every single second to memory.

In the garden scene with Adore, she noticed the little wisps of hair around her face that were lit up by the bright stage lights, the way her hazel eyes gleamed, and when she leaned toward her, it was the closest they’d ever come to actually kissing in this scene. All Courtney wanted was to surrender, to just close her eyes, let their lips touch, but she fought it, finally pushing Adore away like she was supposed to at the last possible second, heart pounding, feeling a bit light-headed while she watched her sing. Really listening to the lyrics for what felt like the first time.

“Marguerite, don't forget I know who you are. We were cut from the same surly star, like two jewels in the sky, sharing fire. Where's the girl, so alive and still aching for more? We had dreams that were worth dying for. We were caught in the eye of a storm! Come again!”

Adore grabbed her hands, spinning her in a circle, and a lump formed in Courtney’s throat.

“Let the girl in your heart tumble free. Bring your renegade heart home to me. In the dark of the morning, I'll warm you, I'll rouse you . . .”

As they slowly stopped turning in a circle, Courtney swallowed hard, the dizziness getting to her, stomach in knots, and it was if Adore could sense it. She pulled her in by the waist, singing the last verse softly, directly to her. And something happened for the first time that Courtney couldn’t explain--a single tear began to slip down her cheek.

“Where's the girl? Is she gazing at me with surprise? Do I still see that blaze in her eyes? Am I dreaming or is she beside me . . . now . . .?”

The music slowly faded out, and Courtney knew that Adore was waiting for her next line, her eyes soft and expectant. She knew that she had to get it out; this was the script, and she couldn’t change it no matter how much she wanted to. So she mustered up all of her strength, squaring her shoulders and speaking, firmly and hoarsely.

“No. Get out.”

Adore’s eyes went cold as she turned and left the stage, and for a second Courtney really did think that she was going to fall, to faint or throw up or something else entirely unexpected. She knew she only had about three seconds before Willam and Gia entered, so she quickly swiped the tear from her cheek and took a deep breath, pushing down the terrible feeling that something had broken inside of her, something she wouldn’t ever be able to fix.

-

“Hey…”

Courtney whirled around as Adore touched her shoulder, a startled look on her face that softened when she saw Adore.

“Oh, hi.”

“Are you alright?” Adore asked. She’d noticed the tears while they were onstage, and had a feeling that it was more than just acting.

“Yeah, sorry, it’s...I guess just that this is the last time we’re gonna be doing the show. Kinda silly.” She wiped her eyes, looking a bit embarrassed.

Adore smiled softly, pulling her in for a hug. “Nah, I know how you feel.”

Courtney squeezed her back tightly. “Thanks, Dory. I love you.”

“Me too, babe.”

-

“You girls are just so gorgeous and grown-up,” Bonnie said, sniffling a little as she snapped photo after photo.

It was finally the night of their senior prom, and as a treat, Bonnie and Karen had gotten together and treated the girls to a little spa day: mani pedis - the fancy kind with paraffin wax and massages and rhinestone embellishments, lunch at their favorite café, and professional hair styling. Courtney had gone for a glamorous updo studded with tiny red roses, Adore for a half-up style with criss-crossing fishtail braids, and Tati for smooth finger-waves that made her look like an old-time movie star. Afterwards, they’d all headed back to Adore’s house to do their makeup and get dressed.

To Adore’s relief, Courtney hadn’t brought up her weird objections to Tati being her date, and she was friendly as can be to Tati just like usual, gossiping about their classmates, giggling, having a grand old time.

Adore was very pleased with the outfit she’d ended up with: an amazing thrift store find, a short, square-necked black lace dress, very bruja, and she’d paired it with studded black boots, fishnets, and the leather choker that Courtney’d gotten her for her birthday last year. Tati looked amazing as always, her skin-tight hot pink minidress really pushing the dress code limits, but the color so fun that she’d probably be fine.

And then there was Courtney. Adore was surprised when she’d chosen it, the sleek white two-piece so unlike her: no sparkly embellishments or flouncy girliness--just a simple, spaghetti-strapped, open-backed top and long slitted skirt that made her early summer tan glow. When she first put it on, Adore had to look away for a moment, so as not to get choked up about how beautiful she was. Then of course, she completed the look with sparkly silver star accessories, red stones in her necklace matching the roses in her hair. Before they’d headed downstairs for photos, Adore gestured to her charm bracelet, the rose-gold obviously not fitting the color theme of her ensemble.

“That doesn’t really match,” she noted, and Courtney bit her lip, meeting Adore’s eyes with a look that made her insides twist.

“I don’t care.”

Now, in Courtney’s backyard, they posed for the dozens of pictures that Karen and Bonnie insisted on. First all the girls separately, then together, then Adore and Tati, who were still posing when Roy finally rounded the corner in his white tux. The second Adore caught sight of his red pocket square she burst out laughing, unable to help herself.

“Thanks, Delano, exactly the reaction I was hoping for,” he said.

“No, it’s cause your pocket square is...Courtney, I fucking knew that you’d do that shit again!” Adore laughed, and Courtney just shrugged, accepting first a kiss on the cheek and then the wrist corsage with the requested red roses.

“I never denied it!” Courtney said. She reached out and adjusted Roy’s lapels, grinning. “I think he looks perfect.”

“Thank you, babe, and you’re beautiful,” Roy said, before ruining the moment by turning and blowing a raspberry in Adore’s direction.

“That’s mature.”

“Adore, please pull it together for two more shots!” Bonnie interrupted, and Adore put her arm back around Tati’s waist.

Courtney and Roy were next, followed by group shots, and then Karen insisted on a couple with Courtney and Adore.

Adore swallowed, letting Courtney take her hand and lean a head on her shoulder, feeling slightly awkward.

“It’s kind of funny, don’t you think?” Courtney asked, between shots.

“What?”

Courtney gestured to their outfits. “Black and white.”

“Oh yeah. Very fitting, huh?” Adore said.

Courtney gazed up at her, a starry-eyed smile on her face, and Adore could feel herself melting right back to the place she’d insisted she’d never go again as the camera flashed.

“Mom! I wasn’t ready!”

“It was cute!” Karen defended herself.

“Do you think we should call Pearl and ask when-”

“Limo has arrived, bitcheeeeeees!” screeched a voice, and everyone turned to see Willam at the gate, along with Trinity, Pearl, Fame and Violet, who all came bounding in, dressed to the nines.

Courtney squealed happily, clapping her hands. After about ten or twenty more pictures of the whole group, Bonnie and Karen finally dismissed them, letting them pile into the limo, laughing and screaming happily, music blasting.

Adore was the last one to go, turning to give her mother one last little wave, pretending not to notice the tears shining in her eyes as she called, “Bye Ma! Don’t wait up!”

-

The hotel ballroom where their prom was held was the fanciest place Adore had ever been. After looking up at the huge crystal chandelier over the dance floor, Adore turned to Tati with a look of confusion and asked, “Oh my god...is our school bougie?”

Tati laughed, pulling her onto the dance floor with the rest of their group. The DJ was surprisingly good, and they twirled and laughed, dancing for hours before Tati finally admitted that her feet were killing her and she needed a break.

“Ugh, same,” said Pearl.

“This is why you wusses should have worn more comfortable shoes,” Adore proclaimed, modeling her combat boots as they trooped over to grab some punch and sit down.

“Not everyone can pull that off, dear,” Tati told her.

“Or you can just do what Trinity did,” Pearl said, gesturing to her prom date, platform sandals kicked off to the side of the dance floor, her bright yellow dress hiked up with her hands as she, Courtney and Willam shook it to Shakira’s ‘Hips Don’t Lie,’ Roy awkwardly joining in with decidedly less enthusiasm than the others.

“Still think my solution’s better,” said Adore, settling down at the table with a glass of sugary punch.

They relaxed for a few minutes, chatting and giggling, before they were joined by first Violet, then Fame, then Bob, who came bounding over with April to hype up the afterparty.

“You guys are going, right? It’s gonna be amazing!” he exclaimed, and Violet shook her head in disbelief.

“You really think a school-sanctioned afterparty will be that much fun?” she asked.

“I’m telling you! Everyone says it’s the best part of the night.”

“Really? I would think the best part of the night is how sexy your girlfriend looks,” said Pearl, sending a wink in April’s direction, making her giggle and preen.

“Okay, yes, she does, but also...after the afterparty, there’s a pancake breakfast. So, come on...”

“Robert! Hello young man! Lookin’ slick!” Roy called, walking over to give Bob a hug and slap on the back. He looked a bit sweaty and disheveled, and it made Adore chuckle.

“Courtney’s giving you a real workout, huh?” she teased.

“That girl wouldn’t leave a dance floor if you paid her,” Roy answered with a sigh, dragging a chair over from a nearby table to sit heavily. “Luckily, Willam and Trinity have much higher endurance than me, so-”

“Guess again!” Trinity exclaimed, as she flopped into Pearl’s lap. “I’m fucking exhausted.”

“Aww, you guys all abandoned the blue-eyed devils,” Bob said, gesturing to Courtney and Willam on the dance floor, making April crack up.

“They’re fine,” Roy said, leaning back in the chair, eyes closing.

Adore looked over at the dance floor, watching them while everyone chatted. When the song ended, to her surprise, Courtney made her way over to the group too.

“Whoa, maybe she’s actually tired! Did someone slip you some Benadryl, Court?”

Turned out, she was only there to ask Adore to come back onto the dance floor.

“Will you come dance with me?” she cajoled, reaching out her hand, a soft and hopeful look in her eyes.

“Uh…” Adore knew this was a bad idea. As much as she tried not to, told herself not to, she’d already spent too much of the evening with one eye on Courtney with Roy, fixated on the way they laughed and flirted and touched each other--it was like regressing two years, and she just wasn’t in the right headspace to confront her feelings.

“Please?” Courtney touched Adore’s lace-covered wrist, adding with a twinkle, “I’ll be your best friend...”

Adore had to chuckle at that, standing up with a resigned sigh. “Good one, bitch.”

Courtney beamed at her, leading her to the dance floor. Of course, it was some slow, schmaltzy pop ballad. And of course, Courtney’s arms immediately went around her neck, pulling her close. Head resting on her shoulder.

Adore didn’t know where to put her hands. Courtney’s skimpy top left so much of her back exposed, she could feel herself panicking before finally letting them settle on her hips. Even then, it was impossible to avoid her waist, her thumbs grazing the soft bare skin a few times before she tried tucking them into her palms.

“I love you, Dory,” Courtney murmured, and Adore gulped.

“Love you too.”

Adore tried to get her heart to settle, tried to stop the churning in her stomach, the song dragging on for what felt like an eternity while she sweated and held back her tears. When it finally ended, she broke away immediately, mumbling about how she needed a cigarette, and bolted from the dance floor.

-

Courtney watched Adore go, misty-eyed, wondering why she always ran away just when it felt like they were getting closer, and couldn’t help the dejected feeling inside, stomach twisting with regret.

“Punch?”

Courtney turned around to see Roy, holding out a cup of red punch for her. Of course he was. He was always there: dependent, steadfast, the one person in her life that she could always count on. The guilt Courtney felt would be crushing if she didn’t love him so much.

She slid her arms around his waist, pulling him close, asking, “How did I end up with the best boyfriend in the world?”

Roy sighed, setting the cup on a nearby table and wrapping her into a hug, resting his chin on top of her head.

“Just lucky, I guess.” After a few moments, he ventured softly, “Do you wanna dance some more?”

“Yes,” Courtney said, arms tightening around him even more. “Yes, I really fucking do.”

-

“There you are…” Tati said, when she finally found Adore in the hotel courtyard, sitting against a stucco wall, smoking a cigarette. “You alright?”

She settled in beside her, maneuvering the best she could so as not to let her dress ride up around her hips. This didn’t feel like a conversation where it would be productive to have her underwear showing.

“Just fucking peachy.” Adore took a long drag.

“Yeah. Listen, I-”

“I really don’t want any advice right now,” Adore said, and Tati immediately closed her mouth.

“Ooookay,” she breathed, realizing that now wasn’t the right time to say what she had to say.

“Sorry. It’s just, my head is all-”

“Nah, I get it.” Tati patted her fishnet-covered thigh.

“Thanks.”

They sat in silence for a few moments, Adore’s head leaning back on the wall, Tati watching the smoke curling up into the midnight sky.

“Can I ask you a question, though?”

“I guess.” Adore’s voice was tired and hoarse, so Tati tried to phrase it as gently and tactfully as possible.

“What’s the worst thing that could happen? If you, like, told her?”

Adore took a long drag of her cigarette, pondering the answer before saying, “I could die. I could literally die.”

“Alright.” Tati said, stretching her legs out in front of her. She wasn’t inclined to push it, adding a simple, “Just seems like something to think about.”

After a few more moments of tense silence, Adore sniffled, and Tati realized that she was crying.

“I should get out of here,” she said, stabbing the cigarette out on the pavement, using her lacy sleeve to wipe her eyes.

“Do you want me to go with you?”

“No. It’s prom. Stay and have fun,” Adore said, and Tati was overcome with sympathy, wished there was something she could do to make her feel better--or at least, enough better to have a carefree and fun night like they all deserved. It had started out so well, and Tati still wasn’t sure where it’d gone wrong.

“Adore, come on, you can-”

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Okay,” Tati said, staying on the ground while Adore got up, resigned to just let her have her feelings, realizing that there really was nothing she could do in that moment.

-

“Yeah, I know! There’s just something off about his face!” Violet laughed, following Trinity out of the bathroom, still talking about an idiot jock who’d tried to feel her up on the dance floor.

“I think it would be an okay face if he wasn't such a jerk,” Trinity said.

“Okay face is probably the best he can hope for,” Violet agreed. “But don’t you think he-”

Violet stopped short, abdomen twisting when she spotted Fame, in the same location they’d left her outside the restrooms, looking beautiful as ever in her full, floor-length gown covered in a large-scale blue flower print. Only she wasn’t alone. There was a blonde girl chatting with her...a blonde girl in a short, sparkly pink dress who was acting awfully familiar, a hand on Fame’s bare upper arm, flashing a bright white smile.

“Who the hell are you?” Violet asked, and the girl turned to her, blinking her brown eyes slowly.

“Excuse me?”

“I said-” Violet began, but Fame jumped in.

“You know what? We should talk later,” she told the girl, mouthing ‘sorry’ in an annoyingly obvious way, clearly not caring that Violet could see her. Or maybe doing it specifically for Violet’s benefit. Violet’s nails dug into her palms at the thought.

“Alright. Later then. Can’t wait to hang out again,” the girl said, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to Fame’s cheek before sauntering away with a victorious smirk.

“Who the fuck was that?” Violet asked, and Fame turned to her with crossed arms and a crosser expression.

“Hey, I think I hear...something...uh…” Trinity stammered out, backing away so as not to get caught up in the drama, calling out to an imaginary person, “What? Oh, you need-okay, coming!”

She turned and ran back towards the ballroom, leaving Fame and Violet alone.

“Well?” Violet asked, her tone still hostile, but how else was she supposed to be right now?

Fame let out a long sigh, asking, “Why are you so difficult?” She began to walk away, but Violet reached for her, fingers closing around her wrist and tugging her back.

“Fame. Who was that?”

“She’s just a girl I know from working at the bakery,” Fame said, eyes closing as if the conversation was too exhausting for words. “She graduated last year, but I guess she’s here with a friend, so-”

“No. I mean, why were you flirting with her? I thought tonight was about us.”

“Vi…” Fame finally looked into her eyes, blue eyes a bit sad, shaking her head. “Why do you always have to do this?”

“Do what?” Violet could feel herself growing more and more agitated, more and more uneasy, the ground shifting beneath her.

“Talk about us, like that. You’re my best friend. You know how much I love you. But not...not like that.”

Violet didn’t like where this conversation was going, not one bit. She bit back her anger, her impatience, her jealousy, and made her voice as soft and calm as possible.

“But you agreed to be my date. You came here with me-”

“As friends.”

“I don’t get it!” Violet exploded. “You finally broke up with Patrick, officially, and-”

“This is not about Patrick!” Fame exclaimed, exasperation all over her face. “It never was. I guess it was easy to use him as an excuse, but...I just don’t think of you that way.”

Bitterness swirled in Violet’s chest, and before she could stop herself, she spit out, “But you think of that random slut that way?” She gestured angrly in the direction of the blonde, the girl who it seemed had single-handedly managed to ruin her night. “And what did she mean by ‘again’?”

“I...we kind of...hooked up last year,” Fame admitted. “When Patrick and I were on a break, after-”

“You hooked up with a girl and you didn’t tell me? What the fuck?” Violet said, anger and confusion combining, the whole thing like hands wrapped around her throat, making her eyes water and her chest constrict.

“Well, I wasn’t sure how you’d react. I guess I was wrong, since you’re being so understanding.”

“Fuck you,” Violet spat out, turning and walking away.

“Violet, wait!”

Violet stopped walking, but she didn’t turn. She couldn’t bear to look at Fame’s face right now, not when tears were burning in her eyes, threatening to spill over any second.

“Look, I’m sorry! Okay? I guess I just...I didn’t want to say anything that would risk hurting you. Because I don’t want to lose you as a friend. I do love you-”

At that, Violet whirled back around, those angry tears streaking hotly down her cheeks.

“No you don’t,” she said. “You never have. God, I’m so stupid.”

“Vi-”

“Enjoy your prom,” she choked out, before breaking away and rushing towards the lobby. She had no idea where she was going, but she knew that she couldn’t go back into that ballroom, with those people. Not like this.

-

Adore trudged slowly through the parking lot, wondering where she should even go. This part of town was mostly new--lots of pointless high-end stores, yuppie restaurants, hipster bars.

“Hey! Where the fuck are you going?” demanded a voice, and Adore smiled to herself, turning around to find Violet, face streaked in tears, stomping from the hotel angrily.

Adore chuckled sadly. “You look like I feel.”

“Well you look like shit,” Violet countered.

“Okay, so I guess I look like I feel too.”

“God fucking damn it, why can’t we just have one night where we’re like, normal teenagers?” Violet exclaimed, face turned upwards, and Adore shook her head.

“I dunno.”

“Where were you going, anyway?”

“I honestly don’t know. Just...anywhere but here.”

“Same.” Violet took her hand. “I think there’s a diner a few blocks away that’ll be open. Come on.”

[ofmagicandwolves]

I’M SHORE OF IT.

Short messy ficlet that my brain wouldn’t let go of today.

The summer before their second year of college, the pack returns to Beacon Hills. It’s a hot and sticky season, breeding reckless abandon and a feeling of carefreeness that your final youthful summer days should. Lydia offers the use of her family's lake house and no one argues. When Stiles arrives the door is still standing wide open and he can hear laughter coming from inside, It warms him in a way that few things have in recent years. 

Bags and luggage have been left in piles by the door and the only light is coming from down the hall in the kitchen and from the fading sunset shining through large living room windows. Erica tackles Stiles as soon as he steps into the room. And he laughs, the most genuine one that he can get to leave his heavy chest anyway.

“I missed you too, Catwoman.” he mumbles into her mane. 

The pack has been apart for a while so the scent marking happens in earnest. Stiles tries not to flinch away from any of the many groping hands that come his way but he’s not sure he succeeds. He thought it was a good idea, to get away from the chaos that surrounded their teenage years. To go to college, and learn, and experience, and grow. He thought that he would blossom under the freedom that Berkeley granted him but instead he just felt alone. Alone and afraid. He ached for his pack. The nightmares had only gotten worse since he moved into the dorms. Thankfully he had managed to get a single room. He’s not sure how he would have fared with a roommate that he woke multiple times a night with screams of terror. 

Hours later, the pack has piled together on the living room floor. It’s a mess of limbs and bedding and it's so warm that Stiles is struggling to breath a little bit. Maybe it’s not the warmth. Maybe it's the heavy way Scotts arm is pinning him across his chest. Or maybe it's how Issac is gripping his hand so tightly in his sleep that Stiles fingers are getting cold. Before he can work himself into a panic, there are hands grasping his ankles and sliding him out of the pack's grip and across the cool wooden floor. The action is so unexpected and silly that it surprises a laugh out of him as he looks up at his rescuer. Derek's eyes are shiny with his grin and he gently shakes Stiles’ foot where it's still in his hand before dropping it and helping him off the ground. The wolves grumble at being disturbed but rearrange themselves and fall back to sleep quickly.

“Come on.” he smiles, tipping his head towards the door.

And so Stiles goes. He’s never been good at refusing Derek anything, so he doesn't complain when the wolf stops to pick up his duffle bag from the floor on the way out, or when Derek grabs his hand to help him over a log and then doesn't let go. It’s a bittersweet thing, seeing Derek finally being comfortable with casual touch in a way that Stiles no longer can.

Down a short path from the lake house is a smaller cabin and when they step onto the porch, Chris Argent opens the door for them with a smile.

“He couldn’t sleep.” he says, pulling Stiles in for a hug.

“Said, he could feel your unease.”

Chris’ arms are firm around him and Stiles sags a bit into him, nodding against his shoulder. God, the man smelled good. Stiles knows that he should move, that this is probably a really inappropriately long hug, but he’s suddenly so tired and moving sounds like the worst thing in the world.

Chris makes an inquiring sound and then, there is another warm body pressed against his back. Derek's hands sliding down his arms where they wrap around his husband and covering Stiles hands with his own. They hold on to him, but it doesn't feel constrictive in the way he felt before. Now he feels like he's in a cocoon made of strong, protective, capable, warmth and, again unlike earlier that night, Stiles feels he can finally breathe.

Derek and Chris getting together had been a shock to pretty much everyone, but no one could deny how they cared for each other. They had both lost so much, it was good to see them happy. They deserved to finally be happy. Stiles would burn worlds to keep them this happy.

After they lost Allison, Stiles expected Chris to pack up and leave. Beacon Hills had never done anything for him except take and take and take. The same way it had taken everything from Derek. But then, the hunter had shown up at his house and instead of being met with the end of a rifle like he secretly hoped, Chris had held out his hand and asked Stiles if he wanted to train. Being human in the supernatural world was dangerous and as much as he hated that the kids were involved, The man thought it would be stupid not to teach them how to better protect themselves. Scott refused, saying he didn't need the help. The dazed look on his face and the way his eyes were always a little red around the irises now, said differently.

So Chris and Stiles trained alone at first, weeks went by and the others slowly started to join in. The three Hale betas dragged along Jackson, and Jackson brought Lydia, Lydia invited Kira, and Kira somehow roped in the Sheriff and Parish. Since almost everyone was already there, it was just easier to have pack nights after training. Reluctantly, Scott agrees.

When Derek started showing up to their sessions. Stiles was confused at first, Derek Hale willingly spending time with an Argent, odd. Then he noticed how well Derek knew his way around Chris’ space, never fumbling in the wrong cabinet for a glass. How he always handed Chris his plate first during meals. He notices the way the hunter quietly offers the wolf pieces of whatever snack he's having and the way Derek’s ears get pink when he accepts. Stiles has been head over tail for Derek for as long as he can remember but oddly he isn't jealous, he likes seeing Derek smile. Chris makes Derek smile and Stiles likes Chris. Maybe he likes Chris a little more than he should. But either way, he's happy for them. So it doesn’t surprise him, one pack night, when Chris gets up for a drink and presses a quick thoughtless kiss to Derek's lips.

Scott loses his shit. Screaming about how Allison would have been ashamed of her father for being with someone so much younger than him, someone who had murdered people. His eyes burned red as he battered Derek for “Making his way through the entire Argent family.”

“Would you have tried to get Allison next?”

Stiles watched in shock as Scott spat out hateful words, watched as Chris’ face shut down into a carefully composed mask, watched as the betas cowered under his aura. He watched. But then Scott took a step forward.

And Derek flinched.

That was it. Stiles doesn’t remember getting up. He doesn't remember his fist connecting with Scott’s already crooked jaw. He doesn't remember following Scott to the ground or pressing his hands against his long-time friends chest and feeling his magic pull.

He does remember the burning in his eyes as Scott’s Alpha spark snapped into him. He remembers the way Chris’ hands felt like lifelines as they picked him up off the ground. He remembers the way Derek crouched in front of him letting loose a truly terrifying snarl. He remembers the way Scott sighed in relief.

The Alpha spark was tainted. Stiles could feel the way it urged him on, whispered inside his head like the fox had. It was no wonder Scott had gone power crazed.

It had taken the rest of the summer for Scott to stop apologizing to everyone and longer for Stiles to get a handle on being a human Alpha. His spark worked constantly to purge the Alpha Spark of its darkness but it was a slow process. Using so much magic left him drained. With that, and so much of his energy being split between taking care of the pack from afar, his college work, and trying to ignore the whispers in his mind, the nightmares from the nogitsune soon returned with a vengeance.

Which left him where he was now, exhausted and sandwiched between his two favorite people.

“I’m sorry.” Stiles sighs into Chris’s shirt. Derek chest rumbles against him with a quiet growl. The spark shushes him gently and tangles their fingers together.

“Nothing to be sorry for, Alpha.” Chris speaks into his hair. “Let's get you to bed.”

They all three pile into the queen sized bed and wiggle and arrange until everyone is comfortable, like they've done this before. And maybe it should be weird, sharing a bed with a married couple that he’s pretty sure he's in love with, but it isn't. It’s the best night's sleep he’s gotten in over a year. Tucked under Derek's chin, Chris’s hand covering Stiles’ on the wolves chest.

The bed is empty but still warm when he wakes up the next morning. The door is cracked and Stiles has a direct line of sight to the kitchen where a yawning Derek, complete with messy bedhead and bare chest, stands in the early morning light sipping his coffee. Chris walks past in his sleep clothes whispering a quiet good morning and leaving a soft kiss on his shoulder. Derek gives a tiny smile as he repeats the sentiment back to his husband. And Stiles aches. He wants that. He wants morning kisses and packed lunches and board game nights that end in dish duty for a week. And he wants that with them.

The summer is full of pack bonding and junk food. Slowly, Stiles adjusts to being scented near constantly by every member of the pack. His dad even joins in occasionally, laughing as he messes up his son's hair. Stiles feels lighter each day.

Derek and Chris are always around and Stiles spends more nights than not in their bed. Derek makes smiley face pancakes for breakfast and comforts Stiles through his nightmares. Stiles learns that Derek wears glasses when he is reading and absentmindedly plays with Chris’ fingers when he’s watching tv. When he does the same with Stiles the first time, the spark freezes up but doesn't move away. The wolf doesn't even try to hide how pleased he is.

Chris teaches Stiles to fish. The only reason Stiles isn't complaining about how early he makes him get up is because the sun rise is beautiful on the water and he gets to see Chris’ toned forearms in action as he rows them out into the middle of the lake.

“Eww, it's slimy.” Stiles complains and pulls a face at the bait the hunter tries to hand him.

Chris rolls his eyes dramatically “Stiles. I've seen you put your entire hand inside a dead wendigo’s stomach with no hesitation, just to get Allie's favorite knife back. You can bait a hook.”

Stiles stops, then laughs openly, “You're not wrong.” He grins, “Issac calls it my “Pack Mom Override.” Any other time, I’m super squeamish and there would be no way I could stomach something gory or gross but as soon as it affects one of my pups, I'm all in.” Chris sighs dramatically and baits Stiles hook, but he doesn't think that he's mistaking the fond look in the older man's eyes.

The first time Chris kisses Stiles, it’s just as absentmindedly as he had kissed Derek just moments before. They’re finishing dinner, Chris giving his husband a soft peck as he takes his plate before grabbing Stiles empty one as well, The Alpha looks up to tell him that he’ll volunteer to do the dishes when Chris leans down and presses his lips lightly against his. The man is halfway through the kitchen before he realizes what he's done and turns around wide eyed to see Stiles’ shocked and Derek’s grinning faces. Stiles has never seen Christopher look more unsure of himself.

“Do it again.”  Stiles whispers. “If you meant it. Do it again.”

The plates shatter against the tile floors. Chris' hands are warm against his jaw as they cup his face and he kisses him soundly. Stiles can't stop the whine that crawls out of him when he pulls away or the deep moan when Derek’s hand tangles in his hair and his lips replace his husbands.

They’ll eventually clean up the broken glass but for right now, this is all he wants to do. When they pull away, Stiles’ eyes are deep red and he smiles. There are no whispers in his head. The Alpha Spark is mended.

[chaoticlesbiab]

20. “Of all the things my hands have held, the best by far is you.” for fiona goode x reader please

#20: “Of all the things my hands have held, the best by far is you.”

From this prompt list!

WC: 1k

Warnings: Alcohol

Pairings: Fiona Goode x reader

A/N: The concept of this was actually inspired by this fic which was written by @lana-b-bana !! I read it a few months ago and the concept stuck with me (even though theirs is probably much better, so go read it!!) Also, thank you everyone for your patience this week! I’ve been a little down, but I’m feeling better. I should be posting more regularly as of now.

You sat on the couch of Miss Robichaux’s Academy and sighed, pouring yourself a drink to calm your nerves. The clock read 2:45 am as you took a sip and let the harsh liquid burn your throat. You were waiting for Fiona to come home. Ever since she met that run-down jazz player she had been staying out later and later. 

At first, you didn’t have a problem with it. Fiona had assured you that she was only using him as a means to an end. He was going to help her get rid of the rising supreme and the witch hunters. That was it. 

You put up with the obvious flirting between the pair of them because you loved your girlfriend and were terrified of her ultimate demise, even though you were jealous. If her plan had seemed unrealistic, you would have fought her on it, but she was Fiona Goode. It was common knowledge that she always got what she wanted. 

The first few weeks started fairly innocent. Fiona would meet him for drinks once or twice a week, but she would always be home by midnight. Now she was seeing him almost every day, and wouldn’t roll around until well past two in the morning.

You were pulled from your thoughts at the sound of the front door opening, and the gentle click of high heels that followed suit.

You walked to the doorway and saw a fairly tipsy Fiona. Her demeanor softened as she noticed you, “Y/N. What are you doing up, darling?”

You downed the rest of your drink, “What does it look like I’m doing? I was waiting for you.”

She only hummed at your response, lighting up a cigarette. A heavy tension hung in the air for a few moments before you sighed and retreated to the common room to pour yourself another drink.

“So you’re staying out until three in the morning now?” You asked in a pointed tone.

“Oh...” She drug out the word in a mocking tone, “Are you jealous, kitten?” She slinked toward you, reaching out a hand in an attempt to pull you to her. That was always how it was with Fiona. You were in her arms the moment she wanted you to be. 

You pushed her hand away, “Don’t fucking tease me!” You gritted your teeth, trying to hold back your anger. Fiona was such an intelligent woman, but sometimes she couldn’t see what was right in front of her. You were past playing, “What’s going on between the two of you?”

She rolled her eyes, “Jesus, Y/N. We’ve talked about this. Nothing is going on between him and me.”

You backed away from her, “Oh, really? Well, the last time I recall us talking about this, you weren’t seeing him every night." Her mouth stretched into a thin line as you chuckled coldly, “I mean, really, how stupid can I be? You’re out there with him every day doing god knows what while I’m waiting here like a lost puppy for you to come home!” Tears brimmed in your eyes.

She took a drag from her cigarette and sighed, “Nothing is going on! I’m doing this for us."

“Don’t you dare, Fiona!” You let a tear slip from your eye, “Don’t you dare fucking lie to me!”

The realization hit her like a truck. It wasn't until then that Fiona realized that you were genuinely hurt. She had been so distracted that she didn't see what was happening to the most important person in her life. You were starting to distrust her. She approached you slowly, "I have never lied to you. Have I lied to everyone else in my life? Yes, but I have always been truthful with you." Her heart ached as she looked at you. She never wanted you to think that she would be unfaithful. You were her prized jewel, and she always tried to treat you as such. 

You shook your head, "You don't mean that." Tears fell freely from your cheeks. "Goddamnit, yes I do!" She insisted, tears welling in her own eyes. Hesitantly, she sat her cigarette down and walked over to you. When in arms reach she cupped your face, "Of all the things my hands have held, the best by far is you." She whispered as if there were a hundred other people in the room, wanting her words to only reach your ears. 

You gripped her wrists as she wiped your tears with her thumbs. You cursed yourself for it, but even in your anger, you hung on to every word she said. You studied her face as she stroked your cheeks, the soft candlelight made her tear-stained cheeks glisten. You whispered, "I can't do this anymore. Even if I believe you, it won't change anything." You met her eyes, "Let's just run away! We can leave everything behind. The coven, the axeman, we can leave everything." 

She sighed, "Y/N-"

"We can go to Paris! I know how much you love Paris, baby." You practically begged her. 

She sighed, “I can’t. Not yet.”

You closed your eyes in disappointment. You knew that would be her answer, but it didn't hurt any less. You leaned into her touch, "Fiona, I can't stay here and watch this unfold. I can't do it anymore."

She pulled you into a tight hug, "I know, darling." You rested your face in the crook of her neck and choked back a sob. Her familiar scent comforted you, but it only made you more emotional. She spoke softly, "Everything will fall into place, I'll make sure of it. We'll be in Paris soon." 

You lifted your head, "Really?" 

She nodded and kissed your forehead. It was soft and very unusual for Fiona. She was always rough, demanding, and passionate. 

"Y/N?" 

You hummed in response, your eyes shut.

"I love you." She whispered. Those three little words were a rare occurrence coming from her lips. She always felt it, but Fiona wasn't one to openly express her feelings. 

You opened your eyes as soon as you heard the phrase. It felt bittersweet. You smiled solemnly, "I love you too, Fi."

She smiled back at you. Even on a bad day she was the most charming woman you knew, "We'll figure everything out tomorrow, my sweet girl. Let's just go to bed." 

You nodded in agreement, "Tomorrow."

[idlecreature]

the buried fic comment from hell (it's so long i'm SO SORRY, I GOT EXCITED)

DEL.. I WASN’T SURE IF IT WAS APPROPRIATE TO LEAVE A LONG ASS COMMENT ON UR BURIED FIC IN PUBLIC….. SO I’M DROPPING IT HERE i’m so sorry in advance this is about to be a mess,, i’m so fucking emotional right now

((the review under the cut is in response to my fic which can b read here))

okay first –

The mental image of tiny gangly Barnabas and Jonah crouched with their hands in the dirt….. is so fucking cute?? I could feel Jonah’s jealousy just burning off of him. You had me right away. Fuck. You know how to open a story and I’m deeply envious, I’ve always struggled with it. Also, you threw in that little hook:

Despite what Jonah believes, there are some things that just can’t be explained in words.

Barnabas’ voice is so fucking good… guh… you know. I didn’t much care about Barnabas in any deep way before I joined the Jonah server and you guys have all just completely GUTTED me, I can’t believe how much I care about this highly-strung bastard,, he is so GOOD. HE’S SO GOOD???? HE’S SUCH A SWEETIE. LIKE. BARNABAS FEELING GUILTY AND HORRIFIED THAT PEOPLE ARE GRATEFUL TO HIM AND WANT HIM AROUND???? AAAAAAAAAA. And the melancholy aspect, too, which I imagine is how Mordechai was able to relate to him, get attached to him… Barnabas being bitter about how useless his tears are while he’s crying anxiously at the prospect that he might not be able to help those families after all…….

All of those scraps of Barnabas’ letter to Jonah made such EXCELLENT transitions, holy hell. Again I am inspired by your storytelling prowess. I am taking notes, for whenever my ability to write longform fic returns from war. This one was my favorite, made my heart clench:

A good world starts with a good person and a few choices that are made with the heart—

He’s so earnest I’m going to weep ;_; Barny.. you can’t make Jonah a better person he’s AWFUL,,

(Side note, super digging that I can indent stuff, block quoting makes this SO much easier.)

Also really digging that Jonah doesn’t have as nice a reputation as Barnabas… Jonah is the bad influence friend lmfao. AND JONAH’S CAT… I LOVE HIM…

And then you delivered a swift blow straight to the religion kink, as promised… “There’s something undeniably old testament about Jonah; the fire and fury of creation, the self-annihilating stare of Lot’s wife.“ LOSING IT I’M LOSING IT… WHAT A WAY OF DESCRIBING HIM God, here I thought I couldn’t possibly be more attracted to this bastard man. I am aghast at myself.

LOSING IT EVEN MORE OVER BARNABAS STACKING TEACUPS ON JONAH’S HEAD???? Why must you make them so fucking cute oh NO this is going to hurt isn’t it. ((This was the note I stuck in the Word doc while I was reading it and I thought I’d leave it as was for your enjoyment))

“Taking cues from your dreams?” Barnabas replies. “You know only the desperately mad do that?” 

“Or desperately inspired—savants and prophets and visionaries.”

And then you continued to try to kill me… Jonah thinking of himself as a prophet……. hhhhh canon-typical overambitious zealotry I’m HERE FOR IT………

“Are you trying to make me angry with you by playing the devil’s advocate?” 

“Just testing you,” Jonah says in his alloyed voice, silver-and-honey-gold. 

Del I cannot stress enough… My religion kink………. It’s been SO VERY ACTIVATED.

“Your morality has only ever been a thin cover for your shame.”

OUCH, JONAH, JESUS

Every bit of their dialogue was so familiar and tinged with bittersweetness and I owe you my entire life… Sincerely. Ugh. Like, how you described Barnabas’ internal angst about it later on – when he’s thinking of Mordechai, and he refers to "his many dog-eared fantasies” about Jonah it just really vividly conjured the thought of he and Jonah having a sort of? Queer solidarity, ESPECIALLY having grown up together. And that makes Jonah’s flash of betrayal at Barnabas not wanting to be SEEN with him that much more agonizing, personally. Like. I’ve had that happen to me more than once in real life. And much as Jonah is a piece of shit who is absolutely manipulating him………. still, ouch. Ouch. (Barnabas’ thoughts on the company Jonah keeps also made me wince. You did an AMAZING job with all of the internalized shame and frantic rationalizations, hooooooboy.)

The Lukases being colorblind is such an interesting piece of lore by the way I love it????? Now I have. Some questions, about Peter. Mordechai’s characterization in this is so fascinating to me. I’m enTRANCED by how you reverse-Uno’d it so that Barnabas was the reason Mordechai lost himself to the Lonely… the power dynamics……. so tasty. Ugh. And all of the sensual descriptions, especially of that first visit Barnabas had at Moorland house?? I didn’t clip any because I would have ended up clipping the whole fucking thing. It was aching, haunting, beautiful, holyshit. Their romance is somehow more fucked up than Barnabas and Jonah’s…

Also, I was so eager to read this I skipped the tags/warnings and completely didn’t realize Mordechai was going to be an actual vampire so that was a VERY fun surprise lmfao.

Barnabas feels like he’s close to learning something about violence and desire, how close they are, how the wires can get crossed.

THIS QUOTE IS EVERYTHING TO MEEEEEE ugh I’m having an aneurysm over how Jonah managed to fashion Barnabas into a creature that could understand him by gifting him to Mordechai for a while… letting Mordechai crack him open at the points where he was already brittle and experience an influx of some of the true darkness of the world. Just a tasty taste. That way when he discovers the truth of Jonah’s occult interests he won’t run away, because he’s already got his own fingers in the mess. He’s already given himself to one horror, why not Jonah? Shave some of the shine off of his morality, make him nice and gray so he won’t contrast so much with Jonah… And satisfying his curiosity at the same time. Two birds.

Oh, also, still sobbing about this line:

he realises that he doesn’t want to wear any colours that Mordechai can’t properly see.

EVERY TIME I let my guard down for ten seconds you smacked me with more of Barnabas being the most precious bleeding heart in the universe!!!!!! He aches so much for the people he’s trying to help and he hates people like Mordechai but part of him also wants to save Mordechai, somehow… maybe recognizes the parts of him that are like these people, still. Nearly faded but not quite gone yet. And as you’ve already established, Barnabas simply cannot let things go. Can’t disappoint people… can’t leave them when he could be doing something. Anything. Augh, FEELINGS.

Of course he knew Mordechai and Jonah were friends, he’d just temporarily believed in a sane and fair universe where things like this don’t happen. 

AND YOU HAD SUCH A PERFECT BALANCE OF HUMOR… This could have been such a feelbad fic, and tbh it still would have been spectacular. But you always eased it at just the right moment to keep it from going off the rails into irretrievable deepdark territory. Fed me little soft moments so I’d still be vulnerable enough to have my HEART RIPPED OUT LATER…

I’m not super interested in the Buried canon-wise but I love how you’ve written Barnabas’ natural affiliation with it… so subtle but powerful? (Of COURSE Jonah was jealous, lmao. He had to work so hard and he’s still not on Barnabas’ level. There’s some kinda beautiful commentary on ambition versus goodwill in there somewhere but I’m too busy nursing my battered little heart right now to articulate it.) It wove its way in and out of the rest of the plot so naturally, too. For some reason it compliments Barnabas’ temperament as I read it in canon just… so well. Was there a discussion about this on the server, and if so, PLEASE tell me about it sometime I’m so fascinated.

Jonah wasn’t even present for a lot of the fic but his characterization was so INTENSE and luminous, Christ… I know I already praised it a bit but. Woof. I wasn’t expecting to get a taste of his POV at the end and I was so excited I kicked my feet (my cat was very disgruntled) like, this line!!!

Now, he thinks there’s some truth in those false statements, in the lies we tell and why we want to be believed.

GOD, YOU’RE REALLY GONNA GIVE ME FEELINGS ABOUT JONAH AND FUTURE-JONAHLIAS IN THE SAME FIC?????? EVIL… I’m so so so fucking here for it, oh my God, Jonah with an amplifying anxiety disorder, THE PRICE OF IMMORTALITY… too bad the Eye doesn’t let you see the future, Jonah, lmao… the line “immortality just made his anxiety turn nuclear” is SEARED into my brain now, I am NOT accepting canon to contradict this ever again. I’ve always wondered how Jonah’s neuroses might have worsened in two entire fucking CENTURIES and I love the way you wrote it. I am fucking. Losing my mind.

There’s so many other things I could comment on, like. The brief but glorious Jonah-grinding-himself-off-on-Barnabas’-thigh shenanigans. Was incredibly hot, and Mordechai’s poor fragile heart breaking, and Barnabas telling Isabel that it’s fine to call him Barny…….. I’m hhhhhhhhHHHH fuck, fuck, fuck. I’m just!! I am incomprehensible!!! Everyone told me this fic was amazing but it’s fucking amazing, Del, what the hell. I’m never gonna be the same after this. The end was SHOCKINGLY sweet and I have WHIPLASH.

………… So, now that I’ve made you read a novel. Hah. Sorry. My point is. I loved every bit of this. It deserved heaps more praise but my eyes are starting to cross. Thx for sharing :’) 

Love,

Tony xx

TONY. TONY THIS MEANS EVERYTHING TO ME. FIRSTLY I’M SO GLAD YOU LIKED THIS. SECOND OF ALL, THANKS TO YOU I’LL BE SCREAMING FROM THE ROOFTOPS FOREVER HAVE YOU ANY IDEA HOW THIS REVIEW HAS AFFECTED ME? IT’S THE BEST FEEDBACK I’VE EVER RECIEVED IN MY LIFE I FEEL LIKE A FIRSTGRADER GETTING THEIR FIRST GOLD STAR I FEEL ON TOP OF THE WORLD LIKE I COULD THROW THE JEWEL OF THE SEA OFF THE SHIP AND LEAN OVER THE RAILINGS BECAUSE YOUR ARMS ARE AROUND ME TONY IT’S BEEN MONTHS AND THIS REVIEW HAS BEEN A FIREPLACE KEEPING ME WARM THROUGH THE WINTER MONTHS I LOVE YOU DEARLY FOR THIS YOU ARE AN ABSOLUTE CHAMPION IF YOU WERE IN FRONT OF ME RIGHT NOW I WOULD FRENCH KISS YOU WITHOUT HESISTATION UNTIL THE BOTH OF US HAVE RUN OUT OF AIR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! FUCKING BLESS YOU TONY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 

[vinylhazza]

okay but being in a relationship like full term with ethan but one night you’re superrrr drunk and you booty call him only for him to come over and nurse you back to soberness

you don’t normally get drunk, in fact you can count on one hand the amount of times you've gotten shit-faced so bad you’re stumbling over your words like a nervous virgin. what was interesting is that you hadn't even planned on getting drunk tonight, not even a little bit. 

you went out with your friends just for a little wine and dine at your favorite restaurant in town and maybe do some face masks after and gossip about sex or whatever you decided to talk about... and then somewhere along the way your best friend convinced you that her fuck buddy’s parties are the best and she just had to go and wouldn't take no for an answer. so there you were, sipping on a beer that you were sure tasted like shit but your brain was so clouded that you actually couldn't believe it wasn't the most splendid drink to land on your tastebuds. 

you knew that if ethan, your beloved boyfriend and love of your fucking life, could see you right now, he would be laughing at the way you have been trying to talk about kurt cobains hair for the last fifteen minutes or smirking when the weekend started bumping through the speakers and your hips started to swivel in that way you know he loves. you were shutting your eyes and imagining the way that his hands would grip your hips and pull you back against him for some friction. just the thought had you really giving a show, really showing your boyfriend that isn't even there your moves. your brain flooded with thoughts of the dirty shit you do behind closed doors, the trope of a gentle little ethan turned into a sex crazed animal when it came to you causing a pool to form in your panties.

you distinctly remember through your drunken, horny haze that your best friend had found you in the middle of a crowd that was filled with equally drunk men that eyed you like a simple hole to stick their dicks into. she had dragged you away from their hungry eyes just when you were ready to peel your clothes off for an imaginary ethan and give him a nice strip show. yes, she was drunk. but was she drunk enough to let all of those men touch the body that wasn't theirs to touch when you were horny and vulnerable and just needed ethan? no. 

she had taken you by the hand and stumbled with you through the crowd and over to a couch so that erin (her fuck buddy) could get off of his ass and take you home. she would be staying the night but she wasn't about to let you ride in an uber by yourself when the world outside was so scary and unpredictable. 

you couldn't get your mind off of ethan...ethan...mmm fuck he was so sexy. how exactly had you managed to score such a gem in all of the LA bullshit? jesus christ a gentlemen that can turn into a hateful prideful fuck machine that drills you into the sheets just the way you like. just thinking of calling him daddy had you moaning as you exited erins car in front of your large apartment complex. you were shocked you that somehow manage to stumble into the elevator. this would definitely be something you would regret in the morning. but right now you just needed ethan to come over and show you exactly what a bad girl you've been and teach you a lesson. thank god your apartment was two doors from the elevator or you might have just collapsed in the hallway. 

you decided to call him, yanking your phone from your purse you managed to snag from your best friend on the way out of the party, peeling your tight dress off at the same time just as you slam your apartment door closed and trip down the dark hallway, heels falling off your feet. you inevitably fall into a moaning mess on your bed - trying to dial his number only to order Siri to call him for you. 

“hey baby how was girls-” his velvety voice hums through the speaker, sounded full of sleep considering it was 12am and he had decided to call it in early for once. 

“hi daddy...can you um can you come over? want you really bad,” your slur, rubbing over your bare tummy and drenched panties right over your aching pussy, not even realizing how trashed you sounded right now. you just wanted him and wanted him now. 

“are you drunk baby? where are you?” he chuckles, highly amused that you were talking this dirty when the mere mention of anything sexual still brings a blush to your face despite the nasty shit you do in the bedroom. 

“maybe alittle babybut not too much I promise..just come and fix me? need my e,” you giggle a little through the line, ending with a moan when your fingers decide to slip that dainty fabric aside and slide through your wet folds, thumbing over your clit and imaging it as ethans large hand, really getting you worked up and clenching around nothing. 

“are you booty calling me?” he mocks a hurt gasp while slipping on his shoes and grabbing his keys, rubbing the sleep from his eyes just to make sure he doesn't crash the damn car on the way to tuck you in. 

“I can’t booty call you?” you sound hurt, but it’s a fake drunk hurt that you won’t even remember in the morning - your bottom lip pouted out, hand steady rubbing circles on your clit, alcohol coursing through you. 

“you can always booty call me kitten, give me ten-ish minutes and i’ll be there to help you okay?” you can just feel that he’s smiling on the other end of the line, the really soft one that melts your heart into a puddle. it’s reserved for times when you shock him. you calling at 12am to come over and fuck is definitely a shock because you are not that girl and never have been. but it still makes his heart swell that you called him. 

“mkay daddy,” is all he hears you say before he clicks the end button. 

you had thought that when he said he was coming it was to take you up on your offer and fuck you into the mattress until your legs can’t move - not to kiss your forehead and over your eyelids while you laid there on the bed in a drunken haze, making grabby hands at his dick through his pants. 

he had walked through the door (which was unlocked but he would worry about that later) and heard you singing a song down the hallway, walking in and seeing you still rubbing yourself, but singing at the same time. it was hilarious and he wanted to laugh, but had a job to do first: be the honorable boyfriend that he was and take care of the girl he loved because she’s hammered and can’t even remember the words to Bohemian Rhapsody - bad sign. 

“what did you do angel? get a little drunk?” he smiles down at you lovingly and with a little bit of humor gleaming in his eye, smoothing the hair away from your eyes and leaving a kiss upon each cheekbone. 

“didn't mean to e m’sorry,” you hum with your eyes still closed, leaning into his hand that cupped the side of your face. 

“you don't have to apologize baby, i’m just surprised is all...did anyone touch you? who drove you home?” he knew he should ask these questions in the morning when you can think straight and aren't struggling to open your eyes, but he just needed to know that he wasn't going to kill some creep that might have taken advantage of you. 

“nu uh nobody t-touched me...erin took me in his car or whatever the hell that thing is called...just wanted you that's all,” you whisper, looking up at him with this lost look in your eyes, tracing around his lips and the rest of his face, noting how beautiful he really is. 

“that’s good kitten, let’s get you cleaned up yeah?” 

“you don't wanna fuck me?” your voice is small and shy, disappointed. 

he turns back to you on the bed, covering up your bare breasts in an attempt to hide you from his eyes. he gives you a look of sympathy and a nod. 

“of course I do but aren't you a little sleepy?” he speaks softly, grabbing the advil from your bedside table and the half filled water bottle. he grins at the little nod of your head, so filled with love and adoration for you in this moment that he can’t hardly stand it. it’s random and bittersweet. you haven't done anything but booty call him, but in this moment it means something so much different. 

“maybe a little bit...” you pout, struggling to sit up and take the water and pills that he has outstretched. he guides you with a gentle hand on your back, tilting the water into your mouth, making sure you swallow each pill before picking you up from the bed with strong arms and a warm kiss on your lips that has you sinking into his chest, snuggled up and safe. your arms wrap around his neck just as he starts walking you to your shower, setting you down on the toilet while he starts the shower. 

on this night in particular, you blush like crazy when his hands start to peel your panties from your body, slowly down your legs and to the floor. his eyes resting on your pussy makes you want to hide like he’s never been nose deep snacking on his favorite meal before. it just felt different. and it was different because you never looked so fragile before. 

you’re kissing at his bottom lip delicately, taking in the feeling of him right here right now in this moment, and loving every second of it, “get in with me?” 

he knows you’ve already started to sober up just from the giggling that has been absent since he found you on the bed. but he nods anyway, removing his own clothes and guiding the two of you into the shower to wash the smell of alcohol from your body, caring touch smooth across your skin - shooting tingles through every nerve.

the shower was simple, short, but needed. it cleared your head more than he thought it would, and when you turned to look at him with a dreamy smile he knew it was you that did it and not the wine or the beer. it was the same smile that you gave him when he wrapped you in your towel and told you to wait only for a minute while he goes to get his hoodie that hangs in your closet that you always sleep in. he takes the time to slip into his own clothes - some sweats and a plain black t-shirt. he steps back into the room with a goofy little dance just to hear you laugh, dropping the towel and replacing it with the hoodie. 

you knew you were going to have at least a little bit of a headache in the morning but it wouldn't be nearly as bad with all the care ethan is giving you right now. 

he carried you right back to the bedroom where you refused to let go of the grip you had on his t-shirt, heart thumping from the smell of his cologne and the rubbing he’s doing on the small of your back. 

“m’sorry e...” you whimper, kind of embarrassed that you acted so out of character. 

“baby there is nothing to be sorry for, i’m just glad you called me. let’s get some sleep hm? i’ll make you some breakfast in the morning how’s that sound? some eggs? bacon? toast? i’ll even put cinnamon on it like you love.” 

“oh jesus stop before I raid the kitchen and eat everything,” you groan, reaching out to pull him into the covers with you, hugging him close while your eyes start to droop shut. you’re exhausted and looking over to see it’s now 3am and you’ve spent so long being a mess is so embarrassing that you wanna forget the whole thing. 

“you never cease to amaze me you know that?” is all he can say, knowing you’ll talk and tell him the whole story in the morning, but for now settling on kissing your forehead and holding you in his arms to be thankful nothing happened and you’re safe there with him. 

“i’m a mess,” you giggle into the material of his shirt, slipping farther into sleep, warm and content with the one person you really wanted on a night like this. 

he just continues rubbing the dimple at the bottom of your spine, hugging you to him with the other arm. he never knew what to expect from you, but one thing is for sure is that you always keep him on his toes and he can't get enough of it. 

“but you’re my mess. and for the record, you can booty call me any day and the answer will always be yes.”