#i made myself cry a tiny bit heads up

[lurkinglurkerwholurks]

Whumptober prompts 19 (knees buckling), 28 (headache), alt15 (tears)

The man on the ground groaned.

Bruce turned to look at Damian. “Are you alright?”

Bruce knew he was. There hadn’t been time for anything to happen between the threat and the reaction. Still, he needed to hear it.

Damian blinked, looked from Bruce to the man on the ground and back again. “Yes, Father.”

Bruce nodded once, shortly, then bent at the waist, knee crackling as he dropped a card on the ground next to the man’s face, along with a couple bills.

“If you need money so badly,” he said upon straightening, feeling as if he were looking down at the crumpled body from a great height, “take that. In the morning, go to the address on that card. They’ll give you a job.”

That was the routine. Pickpockets and drug addicts, goons and con artists, anyone down on their luck who crossed Bruce Wayne’s path got that card. Sometimes it helped, giving those who needed it a rope to hold onto as they pulled themselves out of Gotham’s bottomless pit. Sometimes it didn’t, and Bruce would find himself giving familiar faces the same card again and again. All he could do was throw them the rope.

“Do we have to call the police?” Damian asked, tone surly with braced anticipation. Bruce understood. The police were a bother.

“No,” Bruce replied, but then paused and bent again to fish the man’s wallet out of his back pocket.

“William Lee Benson of Oak Drive,” he read from the identification inside, then tossed the wallet down next to the card. “I’ll remember you, William. There had better not be any more muggings in this area, for your sake.”

Bruce rubbed his knuckles against his pant leg, pressing out the sting. The gun in his pocket, now disassembled and bulletless, would need to be turned in to Gordon later. Bruce gestured back toward his son. “Damian. Let’s go.”

He left William Lee Benson crumpled on the asphalt and didn’t look back.

———

Bruce stared at the screen, brow drawn down into a deep frown. It was his thinking face, his working face, his do not disturb face, a sign deliberately hung when he needed uninterrupted time to think. The kids worked behind him in the Cave, busy but quiet. Earlier, Dick had hovered, needing something. Bruce hadn’t turned around or even acknowledged his presence and Dick, well versed in the unspoken rules of the Cave, had gone away again. Damian, less adept in nuance, more inclined to push, had tried to interrupt. Bruce had snapped at him, and Damian had retreated as well.

Bruce couldn’t have told anyone what case file he was even looking at. It was all a blur of words clustered like ants into black-block paragraphs, interspersed with photos of things no one should have to see. Things he had become far too accustomed to seeing. All just white noise now, a space for him to stare at and frown at to ward off everything else.

One by one, the Cave emptied, kids trailing away to beds upstairs or out to their own homes. He couldn’t have said when they left, only that they did. Soon it was late enough that even Alfred was likely asleep, and only then did Bruce push up from his seat and straighten with painful deliberateness. He paused halfway, easing his back into alignment, popping his neck, stretching his shoulder, then clomped down the platform steps.

He should go to bed. He hadn’t been sleeping well, plagued not so much by defined dreams as much as an unformed restlessness that left him blinking grit-eyed at his ceiling. Better to wring what sleep he could from his bed before the morning came.

Bruce sighed and turned instead toward the exercise equipment. Maybe he could tire himself out.

He ran with headphones on, a podcast droning on about something he had found interesting last week and unengaging now. Bruce turned the podcast off, switched the music on, and found himself skipping song after song. Eventually, it didn’t matter. It all faded into static in the back of his head as he ran.

The beam of a flashlight flashed on the wall in front of him three times in deliberate succession, startling Bruce out of his trance. He pulled the headphones from his ears and turned off the treadmill. His mileage and time run marked their final tally, both much higher than he had realized, then disappeared. Bruce turned to face Dev, who was standing by the table with his arms crossed, flashlight turned off next to him.

He looked tired, Bruce noticed absently, then staggered a little as his legs wobbled with his first step off the equipment. Dev uncrossed his arms but didn’t move to help. Bruce righted himself. Dev recrossed his arms. Bruce looked at his watch, blinked at the time.

“Don’t you have work tomorrow?” Bruce asked. His throat scratched with the effort. They were, he realized, the first words he had spoken in… a while.

“I do,” Dev agreed with suspicious amiability, given his crossed arms. “I’d told myself I’d wait for you to come up and have a check then, but you’ve gone and outwaited me. On purpose?”

Bruce grunted. No, not on purpose. He’d thought Dev had left hours ago. He should have. Between the hospital and on-call services at the Cave, Dev didn’t sleep enough. He carried bags under his eyes like he was training for a second career as a bellhop. Bruce scrubbed a hand across his own eyes, grimacing at the sting of sweat, and tried to think what this could be about.

He crossed to the mini-fridge and pulled a cold bottle of water from inside. Dev waited, arms still crossed, as Bruce popped the top and drained it dry.

“Is something wrong?” Bruce finally asked. He was irritated he didn’t know, and irritated he had to pry it out of Dev.

“You tell me,” was Dev’s reply. He needed a shave, Bruce noted, then scratched at his own stubbled cheek.

Dev waited. Bruce chucked the empty bottle into the recycling bin. It missed. He bit back a noise in the back of his throat as he fetched it and tried to think. He couldn’t sleep. That was annoying but nothing new. One didn’t become a nocturnal vigilante from a surfeit of excellent sleep habits. He reached for another water bottle.

“Do you know at least three of your children think you’re angry with them?” Dev asked, conversationally.

Bruce’s head snapped up to look at Dev. Dev had leaned back to rest his weight against the side of the table, hands now braced against its top like a car hood. He nodded for emphasis, but also as if Bruce’s surprise confirmed something.

“Maybe the rest do, too, but they haven’t spoken to me, so I can’t say.” Dev didn’t offer which children. Bruce could probably guess if he thought hard enough. It didn’t matter, because Bruce wasn’t angry with any of them.

“Alfie thinks you’re hiding something,” Dev continued. Bruce’s stomach did a strange twist that he didn’t understand. After a weighty pause, Dev added, “I think you’re hiding something, too.”

Bruce shook his head again. “‘M not.” He wasn’t. Everyone else was, though, if they were discussing him behind his back and over his head.

“Oh?” Dev pressed.

Bruce huffed. He was in no mood to attempt to prove a negative. “Goodnight, Dev.”

“Shall I ring Kent, then?” Dev offered.

That cut through the crackle in his head some. Bruce’s eyes narrowed. “For what?”

“You’re not sleeping.” Dev lifted a hand and began to count. “Your appetite’s decreased. You’re withdrawn. Alfie says you’ve not said more than two words to him unprompted. Your children are wracking their brains trying to determine what they’ve done to so badly fucking disappoint you. Dick says you’ve stared at that same case page for well over an hour without so much as bloody scrolling to the second half. Tim said you near about took off Damian’s head earlier.”

Bruce was becoming aware of a headache crouched behind his eyes.

“If it’s something medical, you need only tell me, Wayne, and we can sort it out,” Dev encouraged, voice the proper tones of a good bedside manner. “But if it isn’t medical and you won’t sodding talk to me…”

Clark was in Kansas. Martha had taken a fall. She was on the mend, but Clark had taken time off so that he and Lois and the boys could spend time on the farm. He’d come in a heartbeat if Dev rang, or he’d stay on the phone all hours with Bruce, but Bruce wouldn’t ask that of him, and there was nothing he could say to Clark that he wouldn’t say to Dev, if he could. Bruce himself didn’t know what was wrong.

Something was wrong, though. The knowledge of it built in him like the headache.

Dev levered himself up to sit on the edge of the table, long legs stretched out to skim the soles of his feet against the floor, and gave the tabletop an inviting little pat.

Bruce came reluctantly on creaking tinman knees and slumped back against the side, new water bottle still in hand.

“I’m not sleeping,” he admitted quietly. “I don’t know why.”

“Dreams?” Dev inquired.

“No more than usual. Just…” Bruce frowned for a moment, as if the movement of his brow could brush away the problem, or clarify it. “Can’t sleep. Restless. I lay there and stare at the wall and can’t sleep.”

“Closing your eyes tends to help,” Dev pointed out blandly. It was a bad joke, but Bruce allowed him a pity huff.

“Insomnia, then. And loss of appetite.”

“I hadn’t noticed.” He hadn’t. Bruce couldn’t remember reveling in meals lately, but he hadn’t realized he had eaten any less than normal.

“You poked at more than you ate tonight,” Dev confirmed. He’d joined them for dinner, had sat in his usual seat next to Tim but with a clear view of Bruce.

Alfred had mentioned this morning that Dev was coming. So this had been a discussion brewing among the family before just tonight.

“Anything else?” Dev asked.

He hadn’t known about the food. How would he know if there was anything else?

“I have a headache,” Bruce offered. He rubbed at the corner of his eye, unable to get to the pain behind it.

Den shifted to peer into his face. “When did it start?”

“I don’t know. Just now?” Bruce admitted sheepishly.

Dev huffed and sat back, brow furrowing. He chewed on the inside nail of his right thumb and thought. Bruce let him, content to sit in the silence between them.

“You’re not always the most perceptive,” Dev said slowly. “Of your own body,” he finished, at Bruce’s grumpy noise. “You know your limits but don’t always mind them.”

The corner of Dev’s mouth had twisted downward. “Nothing else then? Truly?”

Bruce shook his head. “No. I feel…” No, he couldn’t even answer that.

“You’re not fussed at one of the kids, then?”

Another shake of the head. He’d wanted to be left alone, but not because of any of them. Something about the act of engaging had been grating lately.

“You’ve not commented on Damian’s latest drawing,” Dev pointed out, earning him another startled look. “Been on the sodding fridge for days now, not a word.”

Bruce made it a point to comment on Damian’s creative endeavors. His son had been raised to value warfare, strategy, and violence, and he excelled at those skills. Schoolwork, too, was too easily turned into a matter of proving his own excellence, of proving his worth. But Damian’s artistic ability had been actively stifled in the League and held no merit other than Damian’s own enjoyment. So Bruce treated each sketch, each painting, each doodle with the serious contemplation and earnest praise that it deserved.

“I didn’t notice,” Bruce admitted. He couldn’t remember seeing a new piece of paper on the refrigerator. “I’ll apologize to him in the morning.” For snapping, too. If Tim was mentioning it…

Dev made a contemplative noise. “I can run some bloodwork to be safe. I do suspect, though, that it won’t show anything.”

It was Bruce’s turn to grunt inquiringly.

Dev shifted his weight, as if uncomfortable, then crossed his ankles to stare out across the Cave. “I’ve been doing some reading in my off time. Trying to…” He waved his hand vaguely in the air around the side of his own head. “And with you lot, best to broaden my toolset.”

Bruce didn’t know what he was trying to say, but he didn’t mind waiting to find out.

“A minute ago, you said you felt… And didn’t finish. Could you finish?” Dev asked.

“I don’t know.” His body, at least, he could describe in careful, precise words, even if, as Dev put it, he wasn’t always aware of it. His feelings were another matter entirely.

Dev brushed the confession away as if he were neither surprised nor particularly concerned. “Don’t worry about your emotions, mate. Focus on that meat suit of yours. What do you feel?”

Bruce frowned and tried to concentrate. “I have a headache.” He’d already said that.

“Describe it.”

“Uh.” Bruce grimaced, feeling it more now that he was focusing on it. He touched his right eyebrow. “Behind my eyes, an ache. Eyestrain, I think. And at the base of my neck.”

From squinting at the computer for too long, likely. But now that he could focus on the headache, other sensations came into focus. “I’m sweaty.”

Bruce looked down at himself and the slowly drying stain across his chest that he knew was matched across his back as well. He remembered the numbers flashing on the treadmill readout. “My knees hurt.”

His knees always hurt now. And he hadn’t stretched before starting his run. His feet hurt, too.

Bruce pressed his hand across the sweat-stained fabric. “My chest feels tight.”

Dev shifted again, this time to study Bruce more closely. “Tight how? Any pain?”

“Not like that. Like…” He didn’t know like what.

“D’you know,” Dev began slowly, and Bruce braced for another thing that no, he apparently did not know. “D’you know you’ve been twisting that bottle between those gorilla paws of yours this entire time?”

Bruce startled and looked down. The unopened water bottle was still clutched between his palms, crinkling in protest as he wrung its midsection slowly.

“Tight like anxious or tight like angry?” Dev asked, with more patience than Bruce deserved.

Bruce sucked in a sharp breath. So there were some feelings he did know.

“It’s late,” he said, pushing off from the table. “You should go home.”

“Wayne,” Dev said.

“Goodnight, Dev.”

“You’ve not fixed it.”

“Goodnight Dev,” Bruce repeated, striding toward the locker rooms.

“I’ll call Kent,” Dev threatened from his spot at the table.

Bruce whirled, the anger he hadn’t known was there blossoming red-hot in his chest. “You’ve done your job,” he growled. “Now go home.”

Dev stayed seated, but his back stiffened. “So you can go back to distressing your family members and ignoring your own emotions?”

“Better than panic attacks on the floor,” Bruce snarled, and he knew, he knew it was the wrong thing to say the moment it left his mouth.

Kiran Devabhaktuni had come into their lives professionally brilliant and emotionally destroyed. It had taken months of work to earn any insight at all into his history and the trauma that lay buried there. Dev’s trust had been a gift, was still a gift, one that no one took for granted, least of all Bruce. And he’d kicked straight through it with one horrible, meanspirited moment.

“Kiran…” Bruce said weakly, apologies caught in the back of his throat, too few words to make up for too big a mistake.

Dev’s face had gone wooden, but he hadn’t moved. Hadn’t cursed Bruce out and stormed out as Bruce so clearly deserved. Instead, sharp eyes stared back, narrowed and thoughtful.

“I’d say that little outburst points to fucking anger,” he said, voice on the cold side of clinical. “But you’re the one who brought up panic attacks. Fucking cheap shot, by the by.”

“I know.” Bruce ran a hand down his face, regret too big for his mouth, for his chest. “I know. I’m sorry. That was…” Alfred would call it beastly. Bruce felt like a beast, big and dumb and snapping at shadows.

“Yes,” Dev agreed, tone clipped, but he still hadn’t moved. “Panic attacks a possibility currently, then?”

He hadn’t thought so. Hadn’t thought about it at all. But Bruce ground the heel of his hand into his chest and felt the sick there, the bramble patch lodged at the base of his throat and crammed down into his chest.

“Tried talking to Alfie about it?” Dev asked, knowing the answer, but his gaze sharpened further as Bruce’s expression twisted. “Is it about him, then?”

“No. It’s not. We’re fine.”

Then why did his stomach feel like he’d been sucker-punched?

“Cassandra noticed,” Dev said calmly, as if whatever came out of his mouth next wasn’t bound to be devastating, “a change the morning of the 15th. Mean anything to you?”

The 15th? Bruce blinked, thrown out of his own head for a moment by the scramble to reorient himself in time. Today was the 20th, or had been. He counted back the days, trying to remember what had happened that morning.

“There’s nothing,” he rasped at last. “I woke up late. Had breakfast. Tidied up some loose ends. Went on patrol that night. It was quiet. Nothing out of the ordinary.”

“Loose ends?” Dev echoed.

“Old case files. Already solved. Just cleaning up my notes.” He shook his head. “I can’t even remember them. They were nothing.”

Dev hummed thoughtfully. “Cassandra could be wrong.”

They both knew that was unlikely.

“Slept late,” Dev repeated. “Patrol the night before?”

“Night off,” Bruce said. “I took Damian—“

He stopped.

Dev waited.

“Wayne.” Dev’s voice was a command. “Sit down.”

Bruce squatted where he was, head bent low between his legs. Dev’s hand was on his back, a slight weight between his shoulder blades, ready to brace him if necessary.

The ventilation hummed overhead.

Bruce rocked backward and sat on the concrete, elbows on his scarred knees, face in his hands. Dev was next to him, grounding hand removed, allowing him space to breathe.

When Bruce’s gasps had evened out into something more control, Dev spoke. “Tell me about that night with Damian.”

“We went to an art gallery. A man tried to mug us on the way home.” A frightening sentence, for anyone else.

“Was anyone hurt?” Dev asked, though he had seen both Bruce and Damian since.

“The mugger.” Bruce’s voice was dry. “He stepped out in front of us and all I saw was the gun. I hit him.”

One punch, with all the power of thousands of repetitions. It was a miracle Bruce hadn’t killed him.

“It was over before anything could happen.” Damian had been fine. Bruce had been fine. The sting in his hand had disappeared before they reached home. He hadn’t followed up to see if William Lee Benson had minded his instructions, but there had been no further reports of violence that could be linked to him.

“Still an unsettling occurrence.”

But it hadn’t been. Their night had continued on as if nothing had happened, Damian chattering the whole way about a piece they had seen that would be delivered to the Manor later that week. It was only when Bruce had gone to bed that night and thought back over what had happened, and what hadn’t…

Bruce swallowed hard against the tight lump in his throat.

“My parents…”

Even now, he didn’t like to talk about the details everyone knew. His formative trauma had entered city lore, down to the blooded pearls now locked away in his upstairs safe.

“You know the story.” It was confirmation, not a question. Dev nodded.

“It reminded you of that night,” Dev guessed. Bruce’s turn to nod, little more than a jerk of his chin. “It frightened you?”

Bruce barked out a hard laugh. The bramble in his chest thickened, caught flame. “I wasn’t scared. I was angry. I hit him once, and it was done. It was easy. No one had to die.”

Bruce sucked in a breath, as if he could catch the words, reel them back in. This was what had kept him up, what he refused to think about, what he had emptied out his head to avoid.

He bowed his head again, pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fuck.”

“Angry,” Dev repeated, voice like fingertips tracing the edge of a wound. “At your parents?”

No sprang instinctively to his lips and burned away like a slug in salt. Bruce hadn’t been angry at his parents in decades, if ever. At the world, at the gunman, at Gotham, at fate, at himself, all of these and more, but not his parents. But he was now. He was furious at his dear, dead, buried parents.

They sat in silence for a little while, Bruce’s breaths ragged in the echo of the Cave.

“For dying?” Dev asked quietly.

Bruce shrugged, bewildered and miserable, face still blocked by his hand. Because he was. Once Dev named the feeling, he had known. He was a grown man, angry at his dead parents for not, what? Being secret vigilantes? For not being fast enough to knock a man with a gun unconscious before he shot them? It was stupid. Childish. He felt guilty for even having those feelings, so he’d refused to have them at all, shutting them behind static and white noise.

“For not… Anything,” Bruce tried to explain. “Handing over the money quickly enough. Fighting back. For going down that cursed alley to begin with.”

Thomas and Martha Wayne might have represented a generation of hope for Gotham, but they were still Gothamites. They should have known better. They took a shortcut with their child through a bad part of town, and they’d paid for it. They had all paid for it.

“They didn’t protect you,” Dev agreed, and Bruce blinked so that he didn’t flinch.

No, that wasn’t… They had. They had tried. They weren’t Dev’s parents, they were good, they were—

When Bruce closed his eyes, he saw his mother, sightless eyes open and staring past him, and blood black on the asphalt.

“They tried,” he rasped. “And they still died.”

Dev hummed, and his shoulder settled against Bruce’s, gingerly at first, and then with a heavier weight when Bruce didn’t push him away. The warmth grounded him, a light blinking in the dark. Bruce leaned in return and pressed his face into the side of Dev’s neck.

Slender fingertips carefully stroked his head, smoothing down the sweaty hair behind his ear.

“Why d’you feel you haven’t the right to be bloody angry?” Dev asked, voice as mild as his fingertips.

Bruce had no answer.

“You miss them?”

Bruce had to swallow twice over before he could speak. “Every day.”

He had thought the hurt would ease with age. In some ways, it did. He wasn’t the same little boy who went mute for years or the surly teenager who picked fights and broke curfew. He didn’t wake up screaming, Alfred by his bedside. But in some ways, the pain had only deepened, sinking from skin to muscle like a bruise he couldn’t rub away.

That night, William Benson Lee behind them on the ground, Bruce had looked at Damian, his son, and couldn’t imagine letting him go now. Couldn’t imagine disappearing from his life and not getting to experience all the firsts still to come. And yet Damian was already older than Bruce had been, when his parents had bled out in front of him.

Bruce heaved in a breath and lifted his head. Dev’s fingers lifted but the comforting weight of his shoulder remained.

“I’m too old for this,” Bruce mumbled, then felt stupid even before Dev leveled him with a look.

“Ah, right, I forgot, trauma ends at thirty, does it? Brilliant, so glad all my problems are solved. I’ll give the young ones a ring, let them know just a few years to go, just hang in there.”

“Dev.”

Dev’s turn grimace. “Never promised to be good at this, mate. But someone needed to crack open that head of yours.” He hesitated, as if feeling carefully for a trigger that might set Bruce off again before he said, “You’ve not spoken with Alfie.”

There was a question buried within the statement. Bruce leaned away and felt his own shoulders hunch up like a chastened little boy caught in the middle of a disobedient act.

“That’s the anxiety part of it, then?” Dev ventured.

It was, though Bruce hadn’t known until Dev said it aloud. They were twin aches in his chest, the anger at his parents chased in circles by the anxiety of Alfred knowing. Bruce, too angry at himself for being angry, had disconnected from his emotions, because he couldn’t bear to feel them. And he couldn’t bear disappointing Alfred again.

“He won’t be angry at you,” Dev assured.

No, he wouldn’t. Because he was Alfred. Alfred, who had borne Bruce’s silences, his tantrums, his grief, his despair, and all the years that had followed. Alfred, who had to expect him to be better than this by now. Disappointed was far worse than angry.

Dev, too well-versed in reading paragraphs from the lines in Bruce’s face, sighed. “I’m bloody shattered,” he confessed, pushing slowly to his feet and then offering a hand to Bruce.

Bruce accepted the hand but was careful to do most of the lifting himself. The ache in his knees made him wince, and Dev held firm until he was steady on his feet. Even once he was, Dev didn’t let go.

“Talk to Alfie,” Dev insisted. “He’s worried.”

Bruce didn’t concede, but he squeezed Dev’s hand and said, “Goodnight, Dev.”

Dev pulled away with a wave. “I’ll check in later. Write a prescription for sleep aid if you need it. Go to fucking bed, Wayne. And talk to Alfred.”

Bruce went to fucking bed. The run must have done something, or the talk with Dev, because he managed to scrape together a few hours of uninterrupted sleep. When he woke, the house was quiet. The hallways were empty, as was the kitchen. Muffins sat cooling on the counter. Bruce snagged one, stomach twisting with relief and then guilt that he felt relief.

It was one thing to avoid Alfred unknowingly, driven mindlessly by his own unconscious shame and fear. It was another to deliberately redirect his own orbit. Bruce couldn’t do that. But neither could he bring himself to seek Alfred out. Instead, he picked at the muffin, wandering from room to empty room, before pitching the uneaten half in a trashcan and grabbing his shoes instead.

The walk down the path was a familiar one, as worn into the muscles in his feet as in the earth itself. Bruce could walk it blindfolded, without intent or purpose. He did so now, eyes downcast, hands jammed into his pockets, not considering his destination until he stood before the two stone markers.

Thomas Alan Wayne

Martha Elizabeth Wayne

Bruce stared at the engraved names, at the small patch of flowers planted before each. His parents weren’t buried here, of course. The Waynes had a family plot in Gotham’s most exclusive cemetery, a mausoleum with somberly carved marble niches filled with generation after generation of dead and mouldering Waynes. Bruce would be buried there someday, when he died, he supposed. His parents were there now, and he visited them once a week to place freshly cut flowers in the vase by the door. But in between, there were the stone crosses in the side yard of the Manor, carefully placed along a maintained gravel path, and a stone bench set on the opposite side at just the right height for a young boy.

Bruce sat, hands clasped, aware of the layers of himself through time in this very spot. He used to come here when he was younger to talk to them, or to cry, or to fling himself as far from Alfred as he dared without risking a permanent separation. Some part of him had always worried he might someday go too far and lose his one remaining lodestone forever. He wasn’t afraid of that anymore, or he hadn’t thought so, except now his palms were sweaty where they pressed together, and his knees still ached.

A dark shape appeared in his periphery, resolved into a gray-checked jacket and slacks, then sat next to him. They didn’t speak, both choosing to stare straight ahead at the silent memorials.

“Do you remember,” Alfred said, his voice so sudden even in its gentleness that Bruce had to brace himself not to jump, “when you were eleven and broke the vase in the east sitting room?”

Bruce did. With the distance of age, he could place the incident in the proper perspective, but memory didn’t often respond to reason, and he had to fight back a cringe. He had been in the wrong from beginning to end—from being in the sitting room to begin with to carefully disposing of the shards once the damage was done—and he had known it. He had felt sick for days.

“And when you were fifteen and gouged the side of your father’s Mercedes?” Alfred asked.

Yes. He remembered that, too, though he wished Alfred didn’t.

“How about the first time you,” Alfred coughed politely, “watched the sunrise with Miss Kyle?”

“Alfred,” Bruce begged.

“Do you remember,” Alfred said again, and this time his voice was hushed, “when you were, oh, three or four years old and stole a chocolate from a box your mother had on her dressing table?”

Bruce did not.

“You weren’t meant to have it, and you knew it, so you hid, but by the time you had found a place to hide, the chocolate melted all over your hand. You tried to wipe it off, but did so all over the leg of one of your father’s suits.”

Bruce shook his head, bemused.

“We were all in a panic, your parents, the staff, myself.” Alfred shook his head at the memory. “No one could find you. Your father was on the phone with the police when your mother found you in the lidded window seat.”

Bruce didn’t remember this at all, but he believed it.

Alfred held out his hand, palm up. Puzzled, Bruce unclasped his hands and rested one atop Alfred’s. Alfred’s other hand closed over the top, skin warm and raspy.

“I can always tell when you feel ashamed of something you’ve done,” Alfred explained, “because you won’t look me in the eye.”

Bruce’s gaze swung sharply toward Alfred’s face, but hovered somewhere just above the top button on his shirt. Alfred’s thumb swiped across the back of his hand.

“You outgrew lidded boxes, thank heavens, but one’s own head isn’t much better, if I may say so, sir.”

It surprised Bruce how much effort it took to drag his eyes up, up, up until they met Alfred’s warm, tender gaze.

“What has happened this time, Master Bruce?” Alfred asked.

Bruce could feel his face fracture, collapsing and then shoring up again with a shaky, sucked-in breath like wreckage caught in the tide. Alfred waited while he composed himself, then, piece by piece, Bruce laid the story on the bench between them.

When he had finished, Bruce waited for judgment, feeling again like a little boy tilting broken pottery into an outside bin, like a gawky teenager, recklessness long spent, dabbing spit on gouged paint in futile hope.

“My dear boy,” Alfred said, upper hand leaving Bruce’s to cup his chin, “why do you feel you haven’t the right to be angry?”

The surprise of it drove the air from Bruce’s lungs, and he ducked his head, hiding his face. “That’s what Dev said,” he murmured. “More swearing, though.”

“He’s topped up the jar.” Alfred said, brushing aside the matter of Dev’s swear tab. “And it doesn’t seem profanity made you believe him any more than me.”

Bruce tried to laugh, but the noise came out strangled and wet. “They’re dead.”

“Yes, they are,” Alfred agreed, and not gently. Bruce flinched at the heat of it, but Alfred wasn’t done. “Do you think I haven’t spent my own time angry with them?”

Bruce lifted his head to stare. He couldn’t fathom it. Alfred wasn’t watching him now, his own eyes on the silent crosses. “I’ve spent many a quiet night profaning your poor parents, I’m afraid. And bearing my own guilt for it, too.”

Alfred caught Bruce’s expression out of the corner of his eye. His mouth twitched in a mournful smile, and he gave Bruce’s hand a pat. “One of the stages of grief, I’m told, and one we all return to often. And in some ways it’s easier to bear the thought of what might have been, in another life, than to accept that this is our fork, our path.”

A hard right hook. Just the right words to soften or scare. Pretty tears from his mother, or Alfred at their side with a gun of his own. So many other paths. But this was theirs.

“I wish they could have…” Bruce stopped, unsure if his voice could carry him further. He was older now than they had been, and the weight of his days hung heavy around his neck. There was so much more they could have done and been. There was so much he wished he could share with them.

“I as well,” Alfred sighed, knowing all Bruce couldn’t voice.

He lifted one arm wide and Bruce leaned into him, cheek buried into Alfred’s shoulder like a little boy stumbling out of a nightmare.

“Why does it still hurt?” he croaked. “Why does it still hurt so much?”

Alfred didn’t answer, just held him tight and pressed a kiss to his brow.

[shankschewtoy]

had this random thought and thought I'd request. what if a random kid just comes over and confesses their love for you (a fully grown adult.) and the one piece men are just standing there like 'wtf is this kid on'

a/n - OML 💀💀💀 I’m laughing so hard right now 😭 anon this idea is hilarious how do you guys think of such funny stuff

Warnings ⚠️ - g/n reader, it’s a random kid not kidd himself- just wanted to clarify that bec i thought it was kidd, major crack

- If it wasn’t already apparent, Luffy has made it quite clear that he loves you VERY much

- let’s say you’ve been on this island for maybe about a month, and you love it there! The weather’s nice and cool, there’s a nice ocean breeze, and the sun is always out but not too strong

- you were sitting down on a bench with nami and robin, waiting for Sanji and Luffy to come back from their shopping spree

- suddenly, a kid appeared in front of you, holding a bouquet of flowers and a little hand made present

- “Um-! You’re super cool and pretty/handsome! And- I love you! Please take this gift and these roses!”

- the shock that just froze the three of you

- robin raised an eyebrow while nami burst out laughing, unable to breathe

- “BAHAHAHAHSUBDIDBD- YOU’RE LIKE 22 AND THIS IS A LITTLE ASS KID-“

- “Nami! Be nice! Um… Thanks kid- I like the flowers. But like Nami said- I’m a lot… Older than you.”

- The kid looked like they were about to start sobbing, so you quickly took the flowers and present to make the kid happy

- the present was a little origami heart and a butterfly, it was actually quite adorable

- All of the sudden, Luffy fucking tackled the poor child, flying across the sidewalk

- “Y/N’S MINEEEEEEEEEE!!”

- bro was hissing and growling like a feral monkey at the poor kid wtf 💀

- Sanji had to rip Luffy off the poor child and this grown man was throwing a fit, yelling at this kid

- “Y/N’S MINE! I LOVE THEM!” -luffy

- “I LOVE THEM TOO!” -kid

- “I LOVE THEM MORE!” -luffy

- “NO I DO!” -kid

- this argument continued for about 20 minutes. 20 minutes

- you had to drag Luffy and I mean DRAGGG him back to the sunny while he kept yelling at the kid about how he loved you more

- “Hmph! I bet i could take him in a fight!” -luffy (please keep in mind that this child is like 6)

- “Yeah ok luffy, don’t beat up a child.”

- “I’m a pirate! I’m already a criminal! HEY KID! GET OVER HERE IMMA BEAT YOUR ASS!” *feral screeching*

- “LUFFY NO-!”

- (rewatched marineford, I promise and swear I did not cry)

- ace is a bit more mature (not a lot) but he’s more mature than Luffy

- it was such a nice day! You and ace were hanging out on an island as a tiny vacation for the crew

- the crew got some ice cream, went shopping, and stocked up on food for the day

- ace, being the gentleman he is, carried all the bags for you, and even bought you THREE scoops of ice cream (y/n pls give me some this weather is ridiculous💀)

- ace was telling you about a story when he was younger, it was mainly about how Luffy was really stupid and loved to eat random mushrooms from the forest

- “He was SO dumb- it was really bad. He hallucinated for like- 2 days, and almost ate Dadan.”

- “HE ALMOST ATE HER?”

- “HIS TEETH WERE AROUND HER ENTIRE ARM.”

- bro Luffy is wild

- all of the sudden, something tapped you on the shoulder, and you turned around, not seeing anybody behind you

- “Um.. Excuse me?”

- The voice was coming from below, and it sounded like a kid’s voice! As you looked down, you saw this cute little child with brown hair and green eyes, their cheeks were bright pink, and they were holding something behind their back

- “Uh hi there! Did you need something from me?”

- “Um… I- I wanted to give these to you.. I picked them myself.”

- this kid was adorable, they were handing you a hand picked bouquet of flowers!! How adorable is that?! You smiled and pat the kid’s head softly, thanking him for the flowers

- ace had a big grin on his face, he found this kid absolutely adorable too

- “Uh- I think you’re super pretty/handsome! And- I think I really love you!”

- now this is where you both froze and stared at the kid with wide eyes, what did this child just tell you?..

- “I’m sorry what?” -you

- “I love you.” -kid

- “What?” -you

- this poor kid was about to cry, this was his first rejection after all 😭 and you could tell if this kid started crying, holy shit this kid’s going to SCREAM

- “Ok- sorry! I was just confused for a sec.. Are you sure you mean me? Not that little kid over there with the pig tails?”

- this kid was determined, shaking their head as they took your hands in theirs

- Ace was struggling, struggling not to just start cackling, the only thing keeping him from laughing was you pinching his arm

- “Ace don’t even think about laughing.”

- “I’m sorry- *wheeze* this is hilarious.”

- Ace’s face was turning red, bro looked like he was choking on food. But you really didn’t know what to say to this kid- I mean- you’re an adult and this is a literal child. Secondly- ace was your boyfriend already

- “Hey kid, how about I buy you some ice cream and we can talk about y/n together eh?” -ace

- The kid smiled and took Ace’s hand. How cute, your boyfriend was talking to this little kid about all the great aspects of you

- You heard about 1009 compliments today, and it warmed your heart 💜💜

- ace is awesome, 100% husband material

- doesn’t matter if it’s a child, girl, or animal, he’ll cut them up into pieces if they hurt you or his friends

- but outside of his tough demeanor, zoro was actually pretty loving, especially when the sunny was docked on an island and it was just a day to hang out

- he liked taking naps on you, literally anywhere (he sleeps the best on your ass 💀💀)

- today was not a nap day sadly, but as long as he was with you, today would be a great day

- you had dragged him along to stock up on cola and things for the ship, the whole crew was hanging out on this summery island too

- you weren’t sure why you hadn’t invested some berries into getting a leash for your boyfriend because oh my god

- this bitch keeps getting lost

- you could be looking at some cute shoes for two seconds. TWO SECONDS. And this man disappears, and he somehow ends up on the island next to the one you were on 💀💀

- but anyways, you were now holding him by his collar, keeping this dumbass marimo from running off 👍

- “Y/n are we almost done? I’m kinda tired.”

- “In a second.”

- “you’ve been saying that the past hour.”

- zoro’s feet are about to die

- all of the sudden, a kid tapped your shoulder, looking up at you with wide eyes

- “Oh hello! Did you need something?”

- “Um… I have some flowers for you!”

- The kid handed you a nice bouquet of red, white, and pink roses that were all tied together with a lovely ribbon

- Aw- this little kid was so cute! How nice of them to give you some flowers, right?

- “I- I think I really like you!”

- *pause*

- Maybe this wasn’t so nice 😭

- “Sorry what?” -you

- “I like you!”

- “But- you’re a kid!”

- this kid started sobbing, clinging onto your waist like a baby, crying about how they thought you were so pretty/handsome

- “Hey! It’s ok! Can you let go??”

- zoro was getting pissed, he didn’t like it when kids whined and wailed about stuff, especially about you

- zoro pried the kid off, setting him down with a glare, “Get off y/n, they’re mine, get lost kid.”

- “Hey zoro be nicer! It’s just a kid.”

- “NO! I LOVE Y/N” -kid

- basically this is what happened

- zoro and this literal child were pulling you back and forth, giving you severe whiplash 💀

- “Omg Robin come over here this is hilarious!!” -nami

- “NAMI PLS HELP ME.” -you

- “I think you’re fine y/n! Just wait until robin gets here!!” -nami

- wow what help you are nami 😭😭

a/n - Luffy hisses at people and growls 💀

[hotpinkstars]

-> the house won't ever feel the same again

synopsis -> you and alhaitham got into a relationship-damaging fight.

w/c -> 1.3k

warnings -> hurt no comfort, alhaitham is an asshole in this, dehya is your emotional support lol, reader moves to liyue, arguing and insults, reader is an artist

“alhaitham, please stop stressing. you cannot write twenty papers in the span of three hours. come to bed with me, dear.” 

you knew that this would happen. dating the acting grand sage of sumeru would be no easy feat. and now here he was, slumped over his desk, gripping an abnormally large mug of coffee. you telling him to stop was making the grip even harder. you noticed, and took a deep breath in.

“you know, getting angry is not going to get you anywhere. please, take my advice, and do not overwork yourself tonight.”

“can you not?” he snapped. “let me do my work.” 

this took you off guard for a second. he’s never said something like this to you before- even in your wedding vows, he promised he wouldn’t ever insult you, show major aggression to you, or put his hands on you. ever. 

“i’m simply just trying to help, dearest, please take my advice-” you stopped yourself, seeing his expression. he just rolled his eyes at you, bringing himself back into his work. you’ve never seen your husband do that, he’s always at least taken your words into regards. you try once more. “alhaitham, come to bed-” 

“can’t you tell i’m trying to do work? leave me the hell alone!” he slammed his hands on the table, making you jump back a little bit. tears were coming to your eyes, but you tried to control them. 

“what is with the sudden aggression? you have never done this before!” you raised your voice slightly to try and counter his words, trying to make yourself appear bigger than you felt you were. 

“you’re trying to interrupt me as i work. i will not tolerate it. you can wait. stop caring so much, would you?” he sighs, putting his face in his hands, running his hands up and down his head and ruffling his own hair. “leave me alone. how many times do i have to make myself clear? or is it not clear enough? are you just that stupid?” 

that sentence made you freeze. he did not at all look like he was going to take that back. you nodded and started to walk out the door before he grabbed your shoulder. you stopped once again, thinking this was him apologizing, but you turned around to find a very angry man. 

“and by the way, i’d never do that for you. that’s irritating, and your artwork isn’t worth caring for anyways. go.” 

and there was the start of many tears. you ran out in fear and sadness, wondering what ever got into him to lash out like that. you knew he could be extreme and give out major criticism, but he was never this harsh to you. you looked down at the band on your ring finger, spinning it around a few times. the good memories, your honeymoon, your wedding, and the proposal all came flooding through your mind. it made you cry even harder than you already were, if that's even possible. you slid the ring off and threw it on your nightstand of your shared home, and then was sure to make a point of moving it to his. so he could see the damage he’s caused. you packed a tiny bag and left for the night to go to your friend dehyas place. you knew she’d have some good advice for you.

after a short trek to see her, you knocked on her door, soaked from the rain. she welcomed you in with an impressively strong pat on the back, immediately noticing your puffy eyes and noticing the ring wasn’t where it was normally. 

“what happened to that ring that alhaitham married ya with? did divorce knock on your door?” she sighed. “i knew that’d happen, damned man.”

that sentence made you cry again. she immediately corrected her wrongdoings and pulled you into a strong embrace, stroking your hair. 

“alright, tell me what's the matter.”

“he raised his voice at me… he’s never done that before, dehya!!” you cried harder into her arms, and you could hear her sigh.

“that man, oh did he make a mistake. what are you going to do?” she asked, looking down at you without stopping her motions.

“i’m not sure.. i love him… but i don’t think he loves me..” you sniffled, hugging dehya even tighter now. she nodded, looking down at you in sorrow. she wishes on every star there was something she could do to make you feel better. 

“maybe you should try to talk to him. i know that’s probably not gonna do too much, but i guess it’s worth the effort…”

“but i tried that already, dehya! trust me, i tried to talk to him. and then he ever so rudely kicked me out like i was a colleague that was sent from the fortress of meropide in fontaine! worthless!” you groaned, letting your head fall dramatically on dehyas lap. 

“maybe you have to let him approach you first. give it time, it’ll probably happen.”

you thought long and hard about that night. it’s been two days since your argument, over what exactly? just because you didn’t want him to fail at his job? his papers don’t even have a near due date! if even one at all!! you sat against your bed, lightly scratching the ground with your nails. it seems alhaitham took the ring he gave you, and went back to work the next day. he probably isn’t even thinking about what happened, or so you thought.

considering, the night you got back from dehyas, you were welcomed home to him sipping on some tea, watching the television. probably some documentary about the history of the aranara. you said a slight hey, and he just looked at you, immediately making your heart sink. you sighed and walked away to the spare bedroom. the worst part was that he just let you. he didn’t seem like he cared, or willing to take back all of the insults he threw at you that night. it seemed like that night was the only thing you could think about. 

though, he feels super remorseful about the things he did and said that night. he hasn’t been able to properly focus, being logical enough to know that those words are something you’ll likely never bounce back from. you’ve already broken a paintbrush you’ve had, scratching a rip into a painting you spent hours on. he saw that when he came back home that night, gasping slightly. and that’s when the reality hit him. 

he’s currently slouching over his desk, doing something he’d never even fathom doing in a million years- doodling on his papers. he couldn’t focus, he felt he needed to make it up to you. but he’d only ignore you whenever you tried to take dehyas advice and maybe talk through it with him. he doesn’t know why he ignored you, he just thought he couldn’t talk to you properly in the moment. 

little did he know you were packing your suitcases to move into a small apartment you purchased with a fair amount of mora in the middle of liyue harbor. you told dehya about your plan, also letting her know to wait on letting alhaitham know about your plan. you were too hurt by his words, and you knew you could never be able to sleep in the same bed, nevertheless see the man anymore. you knew you were gonna be gone by dark tonight, which is plenty time before he’d get home. once you’ve packed the last of your things, you set off, taking a carriage to the chasm before being escorted by yelan herself to the harbor, tipping her a fair amount of mora for her kindness. you immediately felt more refreshed, in a new place, away from the man you’ve never known would be as toxic as he appeared to be.

[bettyfrommars]

Dirty Metal Summer

a Dirty Dancing au

Part 1: Big Girls Don't Cry

Eddie x fem!Reader

MASTERLIST PLAYLIST

It's 1987, the same year the movie Dirty Dancing was originally released. 21-year-old reader is spending the summer with her dad and aunt at an all-inclusive resort in Indiana while she figures out what she wants to do with her life. After that summer, nothing will never be the same. Eddie is in his late 20’s and works as maintenance staff, he is also the frontman for the house band, begrudgingly delivering top 40 hits for the guests, and a secret third thing. When work is over, there is a completely different scene happening at a place the employees call The Hideout. Wayne is the head maintenance man, Chrissy is a metalhead, and a few other surprises. Bonus: Steve as a sexy, tattooed musician because I can't help myself.

my blog is always 18+only, MDNI please. The only warnings for the first chapter have to do with mention of a death of a parent, mention of grief, allusions to depression, a tiny bit of aggression, and alcohol consumption. But please read chapter warnings as the story progresses, because there will be angst, hurt/comfort, violence (fighting), and smut. Reader is called Bird as a nickname.

A/N: this is a rewrite of an OC fic I wrote over a year ago, and damn, I really needed to change a lot because my writing has evolved so much. I know I posted a snippet last week, but it's all been changed. Thank you to those who have been excited about this, I know Dirty Dancing is a cherished film, so I am treating this retelling with reverence, while adding some creative spins, and I truly hope you enjoy. The ST characters in this fic do not know each other in the same way they did in the show. For instance, Eddie, Steve, and Chrissy all grew up together, but I do my best to stick with their original character traits. This first part lines up very close with the film, but after that, it diverges and becomes a bit different. Same story line, but also not.

Part 1: Big Girls Don't Cry

word count: 6.3k

The soft murmur of a talk radio station hummed in the cement gray Mercedes-Benz 560, with your dad behind the wheel and his sister, your aunt Kim, in the passenger seat.  From the backseat, you stared out the window with your headphones on, wishing for rain.  The scenery was what you would expect from a place on earth that everyone considered idyllic, but you’d been exposed to so much lush greenery with that bright blue, theater backdrop of a sky for the last hour that you were starting to get a headache. 

You pushed your wayfarer sunglasses up to rub the bridge of  your nose, and then flipped the tape over in your Walkman before clicking it shut to press play.  You were listening to a mixtape you’d made especially for the trip, the spine even said “road trip from hell”, but the first one on side b was Everywhere by Fleetwood Mac, and you closed your eyes for the next several songs.  You were doing your best not to think about how you’d be trapped in BFE Indiana for a whole month.

You were also doing your best not to think about how your mother would not be home when you got back, or worse yet, the fact that you would never see her again.  Never feel her generous hugs in those Laura Ashley dresses, smelling of Shalimar; never hear her voice at the other end of the line reminding you to eat something.  

Your aunt said your name and your eyes snapped open.  It was perfect timing because tears were beginning to form at your lash line. She had turned around in her seat and was trying to get your attention.

You pulled your headphones down around your neck.  “Sorry?”

“The lake,” the expression on her face harbored more excitement than you’d ever felt in your entire life.  “Isn’t it gorgeous? We’re going to get pedicures at the spa tomorrow, I already booked it.”

You glanced at your father’s stoic profile and then back to Kim. You felt bad for your aunt, getting stuck on a trip with two sad, mopey fucks who were too depressed to get excited about the things that thrilled normal people.  You were the walking wounded.

“Pedicures, great,” your smile did not reach your eyes, but she didn’t seem to notice, as her enthusiasm doggedly refused to wane.  

It had been almost four months since you lost her, and the world was still too…bright.  Everyone was so talkative and alive and you couldn’t relate. 

You looked out over the smooth expanse of lake that was nestled perfectly in the trees like you were in some type of miniature scale model rebuild of a town.  Your aunt asked your dad, Owen, if he was still listening to the news, and when he shook his head, she changed the radio station to a golden oldies station and was satisfied with the tune Big Girls Don’t Cry by Frankie Vallie.

“You’ll love this cabin, Bird,” your dad said to you as the Mercedes crested the hill and began to maneuver down to your destination on a narrow, two-lane highway flanked with towering trees.  A big green and white sign welcomed them to Hawkins Landing.  “There’s a whole top floor where you can set up for your lessons.”

You turned away, back to the window, hiding the way your nose wrinkled.  You thought maybe a perk of this getaway would be to have a break from practicing the cello you’d been tied to for over a decade, but no luck.  He’d been forced to give up his dream of being a musician, and now you were expected to carry the torch for him.  

You tried to come up with one thing you did in life that was not to please someone else, or boost some idea they had about you, and couldn’t come up with squat.

Besides reading.  And taking long walks with music to clear your head.  Those two were yours, and they could only be taken from your cold, dead, hands.

From the Hawkins Landing brochure your aunt had given you, it was clear that the property was enormous.  Some 30 or 40 guest cabins scattered around, a main house that functioned as a hotel but also housed two different restaurants.  A golf course, boat rentals, tennis courts, an outdoor theater, and a third restaurant situated on the water.  Along with the full service spa, there were indoor and outdoor swimming pools, plus any class you could imagine wanting to take, from salsa dancing and water skiing, to chess and crochet. 

Hawkins Landing was like a camp for adults who enjoyed alcoholic beverages.

There was a security checkpoint at the main entrance with two guards inside.  The taller one with the neatly trimmed red beard recognized your father from the jacket cover on one of his many books.  Thrillers mostly, horror if you squint.  He nervously asked for an autograph, but Owen was very polite, adjusting his tortoise shell glass as he took the black marker that the guard was offering him.  

After the checkpoint, it wasn’t long before the road opened into an expansive rose garden with a large fountain dead center, and the big main house with its wrap-around porch just to the right.  You pushed your sunglasses up to get a look at the people mingling around, getting the idea that the median age there was 45, and it was mostly families.  

The guards had given your dad a foldout map of the property and told him to check in at the main house to get the keys to the cabin they were staying in. The car moved at a crawl at the roundabout, and then came to park where a sign announced new guest check-ins.  

Your dad told you to sit tight while he went in to grab the keys, and your attention trailed off to a black golf cart with a white awning that wheeled in like a racecar and took position in front of the Mercedes.  It sat there close to the curb, idling.  You could see there was a woman behind the wheel, and she was looking straight ahead, giving you her profile.  Chin length, dark gold hair, just long enough for a ponytail, and the words “Hawkins Landing Staff” written in yellow cursive on the back of her navy blue jacket.  Where her sleeve was pushed up at her elbow, you noticed some type of tattooed lettering there, and her fingernails were painted black.  

Up ahead, you caught sight of someone strolling down the sidewalk toward the car with a hand in his pocket. It was a guy with honey tipped chocolate hair styled in a pompadour with a curl that bounced at his forehead, wearing tan chinos and a maroon, button down short sleeve with the square bulge of a pack of smokes in his front pocket. A tattoo peeked out from the V of his shirt, and there was another design on his bicep. He wore a pinky ring on one hand and rolled a toothpick around in his mouth as he sidled up to the golf cart to say something to the woman driving it.  They bumped knuckles and talked for a bit like they were very familiar, him with one foot up on the running board of the cart.

“Steve, there you are,” from the open window, your attention bounced to a short, dark haired woman who’d just come out of the building and stood alongside your dad on the sidewalk.  A closer look told you that her name tag said Joyce.  

The guy with the toothpick in his mouth straightened, smoothing the front of his shirt with his hand.  “Hey Joyce, I was just—”

Apparently uninterested in what he was about to say, she took him by the crook of the arm.  She introduced you all by your family name, and let him know that you were “her special guests”, and you assumed that had to do with your dad being a famous author, or maybe she said that about every new family.  While you chose to not do much else than offer a small wave from the back seat like you had no autonomy, Kim got out to greet them properly.

“This is Steve,” Joyce gestured to him with a Vanna White hand. “If you ever want to take guitar lessons this summer, he’s one of our best.”

“Or, if you just want to have some fun,” Steve’s eyes seemed to be searching Kim’s face, and then he shrugged. “I mean, I run the boats on the dock too, so if you want to ski or—”

Kim got flustered and tried to find her words, fussing with the lapel of her corduroy jacket in a way you’d never witnessed before. “I’m…I mean, sure, who wouldn’t want to be on the lake at a place like this?”

Kim hated boats and got seasick very easily, so you found her new interest amusing.   

Joyce politely waved Steve off and he went, albeit reluctantly, backing up with slow steps to wave farewell.  The smile stretching across his face grew wider the longer Kim couldn’t take her eyes off of him. When he was finally jogging up the sidewalk to get to where he needed to be, Joyce continued to try and sell Kim and your dad on the resort, even though you were already booked for the month. 

“Sunday night is Bingo night. There’s karaoke in The Antler Room on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and you need to check out our house band if you can.  They’re playing tonight on the back patio, and the rhythm guitar is sensational.  She used to perform with Vixen and Lita Ford,” she handed over the necessary keys and pointed the way to get to the cabin on the map.  

“Just follow us,” Joyce said, hopping into the golf cart next to the girl with the forearm tattoo.  

They led the way down a long, winding stretch with lush lawn and manicured hedges on either side, littered with people coming up from the pool in their bathing suits.  There appeared to be a Tai Chi lesson happening on the lawn near the rose garden, and some type of painting class going on just above them on a balcony.  

Made you wonder why summer people always had to stay so busy.

The cabin you’d be staying in was down a side road, tucked at the end of a private driveway with a view of the lake. It had five bedrooms, which was more than enough, but one of them would immediately turn into Owen’s writing room so that he could work on his latest novel.  

You were careful to tuck your Walkman into your bag as the Mercedes coasted into its parking spot.  Squinting up at the place, you were somewhat distracted by how much you liked the creepy, old feel of the whitewashed cabin, and you underestimated how far from the curb you were when you stepped out, stumbling to the side.  

The girl with the forearm tattoo caught you in both arms, preventing you from putting all of your weight on your twisted ankle.

“Whoa,” she moved her supportive grip from your waist to your elbow as you righted yourself.  “You okay?”

Your heart shot into your throat, and then you coughed a laugh, covering your face. “What a way to start the summer.”

She said her name was Robin, and there was a polite handshake exchange. She tripped over her words a bit.  “It’s not every day that someone falls for me.”

“Well, I’m pretty clumsy, you might need to stay close,” and the two of you shared a self-conscious laugh as you led the way to the trunk full of baggage.  

When you reached in to grab your suitcase, Robin teased, “hey, that’s my job,” before leaning further in to take the oddly shaped black hard case, the satin of her jacket skimming your arm. She struggled with it at first, but then held it up by the handle and gave you a sideways look.

“This yours?” She asked, cocking one eyebrow up. “You’re a musician?”

“No, well, yes I am but no I, I play the cello,” you stammered, not sure why it was hard to get the words out. “But here, I can carry that. It’s big and heavy and—”

Robin winked.  “I got it,” and then she snatched another suitcase with the other hand and shuffled by you to make her way up to the porch.  

Once you were all settled inside and Joyce had explained all of the amenities, you and Kim pushed back the curtains and watched the two go from the living room window. Just before they took off in the cart, Robin sent you a wave.

“She looks like a nice girl,” Kim had her arms folded over her chest. “Maybe the two of you could—”

“I know you’re worried about me, okay, but I don’t need to make any friends this summer,” you were holding the case for your cello in front of you with both hands, using it as a metaphorical barrier. “I like being alone.”

By the time you put your stuff away in the bedroom you’d be staying in, your dad was already typing away in his writing room, you could hear the keys of his Selectric click-clacking.  

“I’ll be back in a bit,” you called across the rustic but spacious cabin living room.  “I’m going to look around the main house.”

Kim barely caught your words as she was struggling with her glasses to read an ingredient label as she put some dry goods away in the kitchen.  “Mhmm sounds good, have fun. Be back in time for dinner, we have reservations at…whatever that place is called. Your dad knows.”

You tapped the Swatch on your wrist and gave an absent wave over your shoulder.

With your headphones on, you made your way down to the main sidewalk that split off in two directions, bordering either side of the swimming pool and tennis courts.  You found the bike path that wound down along the lake to the boat dock, and then up into a lush pocket of dense forest.  Two teenage girls on rollerblades almost crashed into you as they bolted around the bend, giggling.  Trying to decide if you wanted to go toward the water or into the woods, you watched a staff member veer off onto an uneven stone pathway and your curiosity was piqued.

Creeping along in their wake, you marched up a hill for what felt like forever, with Bring on the Dancing Horses by Echo and the Bunnymen playing in your ears, until you realized with a start that you’d already arrived at the main building.  It loomed up ahead like a mansion from some old gothic romance novel. 

You continued to plod your way along the trunks of trees, until you spotted a group having a chat on the wide porch, and took a few steps back.

They were all leaning against the railing in a semicircle, facing each other,  so that you could see the Hawkins Landing Staff on the back of a few of their navy jackets.  

One of them was Steve from earlier, next to him was a girl with a blonde ponytail, and then two others.  

“I met that author guy today,” Steve took a drag and then blew the smoke up in the air, away from everyone’s face.  “The one who wrote Darkness on the Hill, that one they made into a movie.”

You realized that it was your dad he was talking about. 

Not looking where you were stepping, you caught your toe on a tree root and your arms windmilled before you were able to find your balance, floundering to duck behind another tree.  Your mouth opened in a silent scream, trying not to gasp at the pain in your foot.  Grimacing, you turned the volume down on the headphones that were around your neck to better hear what they were saying.

“That actor from that one show about law and order is staying in cabin 8,” the girl with the ponytail said.  “Housekeeping says he finishes a bottle of whiskey a night.”

But then, there was another voice. “Now that sounds like a great fucking vacation to me,” followed by the heavy footfalls of boots on wood as a new person approached the group.

The sight of the new arrival made you feel like your brain was wiped clean—-the whole world came to a screeching halt.

Swallowing hard, all of your attention tunneled on him; his long dark hair with bangs that crowded his eyes, a thin but muscular build, tattoos scattered over his exposed arms, and a leather jacket hooked over his shoulder with one finger. He combed a hand through his hair as he walked, chunky metal rings catching the light, and headed over to the blonde girl.  You took note of every movement as she passed him her half-smoked cig and he gave her a quick kiss on the temple.  

Was that his girlfriend?

He stepped back to introduce the younger guy he had with him.  “This Jamie, my new maintenance trainee,” he used the hand holding his smoke to point to each one on the balcony individually.  You really didn’t pay attention until he got to the blonde one.  “...that one there is the lovely Chrissy, and the moody one with the hairy chest is Steve.  They’re the other musicians I told you about.”

Jamie had short black, curly hair and a hoop piercing in one ear.  He lit his own smoke while the metalhead started in with a story about a pump exploding at the pool house, complete with wild hand gestures.  

“Hey, there the fuck you are.  I’ve been looking everywhere for you losers.”

Another voice, another person making their way down the long stretch of squeaky wood planks from the front of the building.  You stepped closer, snapping a twig under your foot, eliciting a worried lip bite.

Everyone stayed right where they were, but for Eddie who moved in front of Jamie in a protective way.  The guy approaching at a stroll had very nondescript good looks with his wheat blonde hair in a tight cut that looked freshly trimmed.  While the others were dressed more casually, this one wore a white dress shirt and tie with black trousers, as if he had some fancy place to be.

“You talking to me?” The metalhead flicked his cigarette ash and stepped forward to meet the new guy before he could come any closer to the group. “Cause, if so, you might want to change your tone, precious.”

“Eddie, don’t,” Chrissy said, and then she stood up, addressing the guy in the suit.  “Jason, what the fuck do you want?”

Eddie, you moved your lips, whispering the name to yourself.  His name was Eddie.  

Jason put his hands up in mock surrender.  “Why so hostile?” He turned to Eddie. “Joyce has been trying to find you for an hour.  There’s a toilet backed up in one of the cabins, and trash that needs to go to the dump. Sounds to me like you’re having a hard time doing your job, Munson.”

You scuttled like a crab, moving to a spot where you could see their faces instead of the backs of their heads.

So that you could see Eddie’s face. 

Steve checked his watch and pushed off of the railing to snub his cig out on the bottom of his shoe.  “I gotta run.  See you bastards at the show tonight,” he said in passing, shoving both hands into his trouser pockets.  He walked right into Jason, shoulder checking him, before casually going on his way.  Jason shot him an evil look.

“Well,” Eddie took a deep breath. “Tell Joyce I got the message,” and then he motioned for Jamie to follow him.

“Too bad we can’t take you out with the rest of the trash, freak,” Jason mumbled, loud enough for you to hear every word, and a tension crackled in the air.

The metalhead stopped dead in his tracks and drew his shoulders back.  

When he finally turned on his heel, he wore a satisfied smirk, inclining his head, as if he’d been waiting for Jason to say something all along. 

Chrissy moved as if she were about to go over and break up whatever was about to happen, but one of the others put a handout and stopped her.  

“Just keep sending your laundry home to mommy, baby boy, and leave the real work to me,” Eddie said, and then he flicked the butt of his cigarette at Jason’s face. 

Jason moved his head just in time so that the hot cherry missed his cheek by a hair and bounced off the wall behind him, spraying sparks.  Chrissy and the others snickered at how beet red Jason’s face got, but he didn’t say another word, he just waited for Eddie and Jamie to be far enough away before he went back around to the front entrance.

When the coast was clear, you stood and made your way to the path again.  With a curse you realized you were going to be late for that dinner reservation, and picked up speed to a slow, sad jog. 

You found yourself thinking that maybe being trapped at Hawkins Landing for the summer wouldn’t be so bad after all. 

—----

Your aunt Kim gave you an exasperated look when you all finally sat down for dinner, being that you’d made everyone 20 minutes late for the reservation.  There didn’t appear to be a single open table when you arrived, but Joyce had made sure to keep the one by the window facing the gardens open for your party.  She came around to introduce the guy who was to be your waiter, and you sat up a little straighter in your seat when you realized it was Jason from earlier.  The way he’d been dressed out on the porch made sense now, as his uniform was the same as all of the other waitstaff.  

Near the end of the meal, Joyce returned to the table in her black pencil skirt and fitted jacket, but this time, she was with a guy who you could tell wanted to look like Don Johnson in Miami Vice, but it came off more as Gary from Weird Science.  

“I'd like you to meet Troy, he’s the son of Mr. Brenner, the owner of the resort,” there was a reluctance about her, as if she’d been forced at gunpoint to introduce him.  

Troy stared at you with an uncomfortable intensity, making your attention fall to your plate.  

“I’m in charge when my father isn’t around,” Troy said with a smug grin, putting his hands in his white trouser pockets, and you spotted some type of metal retainer on his teeth.  

Joyce cleared her throat, annoyed that his statement was far from true.  But she recognized that it was part of her job to indulge the little shit.  

“I just graduated with a business degree from Georgetown,” he gloated, giving you a wink.  “This place will all be mine one day.”

Your father exchanged a look with your aunt over his chocolate mousse.  

“Well, it’s nice to know someone else your age here, isn’t it, Bird? Maybe you two kids should go have some fun tonight,” Kim chirped.  

If your aunt wasn’t so far away, you would’ve kicked her under the table. 

Troy bent at the waist so that his face wasn’t far from yours.  “I’d love to show you around after dinner, if you’re interested in a tour?”

Before you could issue a vague excuse like, “sorry I can’t, I have a headache,” Kim spoke for you again.

“I think that’s a great idea,” she even clapped her hands, applauding it. 

In the end, you went with him to make Kim happy, to get her off your back, hopefully for the rest of the trip.  

An hour or two with a pretentious prick wouldn’t hurt you.

—-------

Troy wasn’t bad company, but he was quite full of himself.  He had interesting stories about his extensive travels, but then he also told awkward stories that were possibly fibs about how many models he’d dated, and expanded on how he wanted to be married with two kids by the time he was 30.   

You, on the other hand, couldn’t imagine thinking that far ahead, and he wouldn’t let you get a word in edgewise.  

You followed close behind through the huge, busy kitchen of the restaurant you’d just dined in, and he tried to hold your hand when he introduced you to the head chef, but you were sly, and pulled it away to cross your arms over your chest.  He gave you a tour of the ballroom and took a stroll through the other restaurant on the opposite end of the building that had a much more relaxed feel, low lighting, red carpet, and a bar at the center.  

You went down to the boat docks and walked along the pier. The stars were breathtaking, but Troy didn’t notice, he was too busy trying to convince you to go out on his boat with him.  You declined, taking a page from Kim’s book to mention a freshly born curse of violent seasickness.  

You had your elbows on the railing at the pier, enjoying the velvet reflection of the crescent moon in the lake, and you could feel your jaw grow tense under the weight of Troy’s stare. 

On the verge of telling him you were ready to head back to your cabin, the sound of music drifted down from somewhere on the property. 

Yes, no mistaking, it was Take Me Home Tonight by Eddie Money, but it was being executed with someone else’s voice, and whoever that person was had some serious pipes.

And then there was the distinct sound of a feminine voice chiming in with the parts from the song Be My Baby Now by the Ronettes in the chorus.

"Is that a live band?" You turned away from him to try and find the source of the music.  It wasn’t coming from the restaurant on the water or any of the cabins to your right.  

"There's a cover band every Friday out behind the main house. You want to check it out?" He held the crook of his arm out to you and hesitated before you took it.  His ego sufficiently stroked now that you wanted to spend more time with him.

Around the side of the building, overlooking the golf course, was a huge, fenced in back patio garden area with a private hot tub and pool for hotel guests.  Troy led you through a white arbor wound with ivy to find that there were plenty of people mingling, drinking, and dancing.  The area was mostly manicured lawn, with stone pathways meandering around from a concrete floor that was right in front of the small riser that was meant to be a stage. You imagined that a million weddings had taken place there. 

At the door was a bar, and Troy got you a flute of champagne, which you downed with abandon and asked for another.  While he was getting your second glass, you made your way along under several boughs of white string lights to get a view of the stage and who was performing the top tier Eddie Money cover.

Just as you stepped into the crowd of people shuffling to the beat, you stopped dead in your tracks.

There he was at the mic: Eddie the metalhead.

Guitar slug low at his hips, wearing a tuxedo with light blue cummerbund and bow tie, his hair neatly combed back and fixed into a knot at the back of his head so that you could really see the curves of his face. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was performing the song against his will.

The rest of the band were dressed similarly, and you instantly knew the one strumming the bass guitar as Steve, and the woman on backup vocals rocking on the rhythm was Chrissy, who wore a conservative skirt and flats. There was also a keyboardist and a drummer, both of whom you did not recognize.

“What’s your major?” Troy asked, breaking your reverie to pass you the glass of champagne. “In college?”

You were confused for a second but then, “oh, I took the year off to…figure some things out.” The full truth of it was that you had dropped out completely and had no intention of going back.  

“I spent a summer in Greece my freshman year,” he offered, unprovoked. “The women there are, wow, so smoking hot.”

The song finished and Eddie took his tuxedo jacket off, rolling up his shirt sleeves to his elbows, exposing the scattered tattoos you’d noticed earlier.  He leaned over to whisper something to Chrissy, motioned at the drummer, and then stepped back into place, brushing a loose wisp of hair off his cheek.

“Find someone special for this next one,” he told the crowd, and was answered with a rush of murmurs.

The first notes to In Your Eyes by Peter Gabriel, a slow song, lit up the space, and your stomach tightened, fearing that Troy would ask you to dance. As he escorted you to the floor, you tried to keep your head down and stay to the back of the crowd, but Troy kept maneuvering you closer to the stage. 

I get so lost, sometimes

Days pass and this emptiness fills my heart

When I want to run away

I drive off in my car

But whichever way I go

I come back to the place you are

You watched the performance from over Troy’s shoulder and followed his lead, shifting from foot to foot.  You were mesmerized by the muscles in Eddie’s hands as he played each note, and the way Chrissy came in like an angel on the chorus.  

He’d captured the attention of everyone in the garden at that moment, and there was a group of women watching him from the sidelines, whispering to each other, possibly about how they wanted to eat him alive.

They were all thinking the same thing you were: Eddie was magic.  

He liked to close his eyes when he sang, so you weren’t expecting him to be staring right at you when he opened them again.  

All my instincts, they return

And the grand facade, so soon will burn

Without a noise, without my pride

I reach out from the inside

He wouldn’t break eye contact, so you eventually had to; the intensity of it was giving you butterflies.

Troy stepped back and tried to get your attention.  “Did you hear anything I just said?”

You nodded, but your gaze only drifted back to Eddie.  Troy followed your line of sight and then dropped both of his hands with a frustrated cluck of his tongue.

"What the hell is he doing up there?" He hissed to himself when it dawned on him that Eddie had been behind the mic that whole time. "That's our goddamn maintenance guy. He shouldn't be up there."

In a huff, Troy pushed through the crowd and headed over to one of the other staff members against the fence. Bird could see him shouting and pointing over at the stage. Whatever the staff guy said did not seem to cheer him up a bit, and he came back to your side, shrugging his shoulders.

"I guess our normal front man Drew has the flu," he reported back. "It's just so hard to find reliable help these days."

Eddie was making the song his own, and that was what you liked about it.

“Let’s get out of here,” Troy put his hand on your lower back to escort you out. “The music sucks.”

—--

It was 9:30 when you made it back to the main foyer, standing in the middle of the lobby next to an obnoxious floral arrangement, when Troy tried to get you to go back to his cabin and watch a movie, only to get respectfully declined.

“Don’t worry about your parents,” Troy said, brushing his finger over your chin. “They know you’re with me, so they’re probably the happiest parents at Hawkins Landing.”

The guy had quite an ego on him, you had to give him that. It was unsurpassed by most. 

In the end, you got away, and as soon as your Mary Jane’s hit the cobblestones outside the front door, you could feel yourself trotting at a quicker pace, eager to put some distance between you and Troy and everyone else, for that matter.  You didn’t stop until you were far enough away from the main hotel to be able to check over your shoulder and not see it through the trees.

It was then that you realized that you had a free chunk of time, and you could do with it whatever you wished.  Your dad would think you were still with Troy, and as long as you made it back to the cabin before midnight, they wouldn’t worry.  

As much as it was the dead of summer, Indiana by the water had very cool nights, and you buttoned up the jean jacket you were wearing just as you noticed a yellow sign on a lamppost to the right that said: Staff Quarters, No Guests Allowed Beyond This Point

And that made you want to venture in even more.

You checked around to make sure there was no one there to notice that you blatantly ignored the sign, and just kept going.  The path at your feet changed from stone to a well-worn dirt path through the grass, and it wasn’t long before you could hear the sound of music erupting in the distance.  

You passed by staff quarters, a few weathered red cabins with white trim, lined close together, and there were some people hanging out on their porches who gave you curious looks, but didn’t seem too concerned with your presence. 

Following the source of the music, you descended down into unknown, poorly lit territory that no longer looked like it was part of the Hawkins Landing property.  

(song playing in the distance is Dangerous Meeting by Mercyful Fate)

It was then that you noticed a pale yellow light coming from the windows of a building up ahead.  Just as the dirt path turned to gravel, you identified the music you were hearing as heavy metal, and it was bolstered by distinct shouts and cheers, even a high-pitched scream or two.  

“Hey,” a voice startled you from out of the dark and you jumped. “What are you going out here?”

Heart racing, you spun around to find out it was Robin.  

She was struggling to carry several things in her arms as she walked and you rushed over to her.

“Where did you come from?” You asked, grinning ear to ear at how glad you were to see someone familiar.

“My cabin is right over there,” she bucked her chin in a direction behind you.

She had a crossbody bag over her shoulder, an amp in one hand, and she was juggling two guitar cases, one of which she fumbled, and you managed to catch it before it hit the ground.  You wrapped your arms around the hard case with the Scorpions sticker on it, silently offering to carry it the rest of the way.

“You don’t have to—” Robin started, adjusting the bag over her shoulder.

“I want to,” you looked back up at the house where the music was coming from, assuming that was where she was headed.  “I carry that big cello around all the time, remember? I’m used to it.”

Robin moved her jaw from side to side and she looked conflicted.  “You’re not supposed to be here.”

Your eyes were still locked on the house hidden in the trees.  “What is that place?”

“Listen,” she gave you an imploring look. “I will get in so much trouble if they find out you came out here. Your dad won’t want you here, trust me.”

Her warning did nothing to squelch your curiosity. “I’m a big girl, I go wherever I want. Plus, I won’t tell anyone.”

“Besides,” she gave you a knowing look, raising her eyebrow. “If your boyfriend Troy finds out you were here, Brenner will fire all of us.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you snapped.  But then, softer, you added, “I barely just met him tonight.”

Robin wasn’t in the mood to try and rip the guitar out of your hands, and so, with a heavy sigh, she caved.

“Fine,” she sighed. “But stay close to me, okay? You’re not at the resort anymore, sweetheart.”

You nodded, waiting for her to lead the way.

She took a step forward and then stopped and turned on her heel to point at the instrument in your arms. 

“Be extra careful with that, it’s Eddie’s baby. He’ll grow horns if anything happens to it.”

----

Hi! If you are familiar with the movie Dirty Dancing, you have an idea about what scene is coming up next. I've really enjoyed lining up certain events with the movie, but things will obviously be different in this because I want it to have some surprises in store for you.

Every chapter from here on out will start with a list of the songs, ones that will give hints for what to expect. I wanted to make music a big part of this fic, because it was a huge deal in the movie, and the original soundtrack is still dear to me.

as always, thank you so much for reading and interacting with this story! Comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated. or send me an ask and let me know what you think ❤️

------

taglist: @tlclick73 @micheledawn1975 @kurdtbean @katethetank @elvendria @spookysqaush86 @somethingvicked @stylesxmunson @laurenlokirby @sapphire4082

[dark-and-kawaii]

༺ 𝑅𝑒𝓂𝑒𝓂𝒷𝓇𝒶𝓃𝒸𝑒 ༻

What killed Astarion more than anything was how his daughter carried on your personality. Always wanting to be there for everyone, especially him… He wishes you were still here with him.

Angst - Hurt - Comfort - Mentions of Character Death - Dadstarion

A single tear hit the ground as Astarion looked up into the night sky. How? He wonders to himself… You had both gotten so far the past couple of years. He even managed to kill Cazador, not only for his revenge but to help keep you safe as well... He had done everything to protect you, but in the end, there was nothing he could do. He wasn’t there, he had tried to have been there, but when he got there it was too late.

“What are you doing out here all alone papa?”

Astarion had heard his young daughter calling out to him, but he didn’t want to turn around…

His daughter was a perfect mix of the two of you, she had your hair, his pale skin, one of her eyes were the same color as yours while her other eye was all him, vermilion.

What killed Astarion more than anything was how she carried on your personality. Always wanting to be there for everyone, especially him…

“Papa! You’ll catch a cold if you keep standing out there!”

He sighed heavily, she still hasn’t realized that he’ll always be cold, especially with you gone now, the little warmth he could find in life.

Astarion’s daughter was holding out her arms, a well made embroidered jacket held out in her tiny hands. It was the jacket Gale had gifted her just this year, far too small for Astarion himself yet she still wished to see him cover up.

She was still so young and naïve, Astarion knew this… And he knew she didn’t want her only parent getting sick thanks to the harsh autumn winds.. Even though he wouldn’t…

Another tear slipped past his long lashes, he remembers it like it was yesterday.

He had been sitting outside at night reading a book you had given him. It was such a tranquil evening, the crickets and frogs chorused as the stars twinkled in the sky while you were sat at his side.

-Bringing up his hand he lays it against his shoulder, Astarion swears he can feel your head laying on his shoulder even now…-

You were humming along with nature until you felt the cold air nip at your nose. He could feel the chill run through your body and before he could ask if you’d like to head inside you were removing your jacket and laying it against him as if it were a blanket.

“Just what in the hells do you think you’re doing, hmm?” Astarion arched his eyebrow, his book closing so he can lean into you more.

“You’ll catch a cold,” you wink at him, attempting to be cute.

“Now hold on, as adorable as that is, you should honestly be far more worried about that little thing growing inside of you.” He points to your stomach.

“Oooh please, I defeated an elder brain. Do you really think the cold will hurt me? Besides… I want to enjoy this moment a bit longer, let me have my moment.”

“So stubborn, but you know… I could think of another way to keep you warm and even myself.” He always knew when to turn on his seductive side with you, and tonight would be the perfect moment.

You had both laid out there all night under the maple tree. Your bodies entwined with one another’s, hands roaming, and your jacket covering the both of you in the end.

“Papa?” Your daughter tugged on her fathers pant leg, “Papa you okay!?.”

Astarion focused on his daughter, he tried to stop them but his tears kept making their way down his cheek. He always knew he was weak; knees crumbling to the ground he wrapped his lean arms around his daughter embracing her closely.

“W-whyre you- c-cryin- papa?...” She began to weep with her father.

The past few days his daughter had been asking what happened to you, her mother… And Astarion didn’t blame his daughter for being so curious, nor did he blame her for these recurring memories.

“It-it’s mama, th-thats wh-why you’re cr-cry-crying, right?” Her own tears create a steady stream down her pale complexion…

Astarion wanted to tell her so badly, but how could he tell her… How could he tell his daughter that her mother passed because he wasn’t strong enough… no… he couldn’t. Not yet. She was still far too young for the truth, she could hate him later for it. He was going to protect his daughter no matter what at the moment.

Pulling away from his daughter, he saw so much pain coated on her small face.

Astarion raised his hands so he could wipe away her tears tenderly. Picking up the small jacket she had brought him, he wrapped it around her shoulders.

“Your mother, well she…” He searched for the right words but… “Above us,” he blurted the words before thinking, “See.” He pointed above them, the dark sky was beautiful, stars surrounded them in the sky while the moon gave off a light glow.

She looked up to see all the stars twinkling in the sky.

“T-the stars? Will she ever come down?”

Astarion huffed out a small laugh and shook his head while looking up. “Well, no. But, she’ll always be with you in your heart,” -he pinched her cheeks softly- “Your mother is always going to be keeping an eye on you, I’m sure of it.”

His daughter rapidly began to wipe his tears from his stained cheeks along with hers.

“If she can see us! Then you shouldn't cry anymore papa!” She can see that you are hurting! She wants you to smile.”

Astarion helped her wipe his tears. “You’re right, she wouldn’t. If she was here she’d probably tell me to get over it.”

She nodded in agreement.

“Oh papa! I forgot! I brought out mamas sketchbook! Can you try to draw mama for me!? I want to see how pretty she was!”

“I can most certainly try, for you that is” Picking himself up from the grass, Astarion held his hand out for his daughter so he could take her over to the maple tree, “but don’t complain if it’s terrible.”

Sitting on her papas lap she waited for him to open your long lost sketch book...

Flipping through it, Astarion swore he could feel his undead heart skip a beat… There in the middle of your pages was a sketched photo of himself…

“This is-“ his hand traced over the gray sketch.

“That’s you papa!”

Beneath the sketched portrait was a small note, “The most beautiful vampire I’ve ever laid eyes on, Astarion Acunin.”

[necromelli]

Finnick romantic 73 maybe pls? Only if you're still taking requests <3

sender  and  receiver  stand  in  stunned  silence  after  a  fight + sender  cradles  receiver’s  face .

combining this request with another because i need a happy ending.

that was how it was going to be, huh? finnick shutting you down entirely when you demanded to know why he'd be gone for days at a time, refusing to answer his house phone or his door. sure, maybe you could've demanded an answer in a nicer way. maybe asked him. but, you knew deep down that it would end up in a fight no matter what.

"so, that's it?" you asked, voice tight. you refused to let the ache in your chest devour you whole. if you let it, you would apologize and beg for his forgiveness. "you aren't even going to give me a tiny bit of an explanation."

"i can't," finnick sighed, exasperated with your never-ending slew of repetitive questions. he turned to look at you, saw how warm your face had gotten, and forced himself to turn back around. he might give in if he looked to long. "i told you this already."

"you didnt even tell me why you can't tell me!"

finnick's hands twitched at his side, picking at a nonexistent thread on his linen pants. he wanted so badly to tell you, but he couldn't. the risks were too high. he couldn't stand to put you through it, as well. to have you affected, tainted.

it was silent. he didnt say anything, and you didnt either. the thoughts that you had for weeks now cross your mind, and in that moment of hurt and betrayal, you couldn't stop the words from flying out. "fine." you said numbly. "that's it. i'm not doing this anymore."

"what?" finnick asked in a similar tone. "not doing what?"

"this." you answered, gesturing between the two of you despite the fact he didnt look. "i deserve better than this. i'm not putting myself through this anymore."

"no." finnick breathed out. it sounded like you were breaking up with him.

"i've tried and tried and tried for months to be understanding. but, i get it." you swallowed thickly, fighting back the tears. "i'm not as attractive as those in the capitol. i get it. who wants some district four fisher, huh?"

"no."

"well, ill do you a favor, finnick, and make it easy for you." you started for the door, slipping past him as you entered the living room.

finnick couldn't let you leave like that. not when he loved you, not when you were seconds from crying because of him. he grabbed your arm, making you look at him. "don't do this, honey."

you frowned, turning your head away from him. you didnt want to see him because then you'd stay. "this is it, finnick, it's over."

"no," finnick repeated, his big hands cupping your cheeks and making you look at him. he frowned at how distraught you looked - tear eyed, quivering bottom lip, cheeks so warm they were almost feverish. "no, it's not. i'll tell you if you'll promise to stay."

you only looked at him.

"it makes sense, baby, i promise." finnick brushed the tears out of the corners of your eyes and you felt yourself melting. he swallowed thickly, his adam's apple bobbing. "i'm sorry if i made you think i loved someone else. i dont. i promise, i love you."

finnick pulled you into his chest, burying his face in your hair, breathing in your scent. you fought back tears, kicking yourself for not pulling away sooner. but, when he started to softly explain to you why, what snow made him do, you felt like the biggest asshole in panem - next to snow, at least.

"i'm sorry." you mumbled, your arms wrapping around finnick's torso. you pulled him into a tight hug, before you pulled back to cup his cheeks like he had yours. "i'm sorry. i didn't know."

"i know you didnt-"

"no, finnick, please," you whispered, just wanting him to let you apologize. he gave you a small, slightly defeated smile. you gave him a kiss on his lips, short, sweet, before grasping his cheeks again. "i'm not going anywhere. just let me in. please, finn."

he leaned his forehead against yours, closing his eyes. it was a relief to hear that. despite telling you, finnick feared you'd still leave even after knowing. he kissed your forehead, then your nose, and then your lips. "i love you."

"i love you, too, finn."

[screaminglygay]

KINKTOBER day 5

pairing: ghostface! sam carpenter x fem!reader

summary: you and sam are besties, but do you tell each other everything? (what is this? i dunno)

warnings: smut!!!, dom!sam x sub!reader, sam is a big meanie for a little, spanking, degradation, dirty talk, swearing, killing mentioned, tiny bit of knife play, slapping, crying, not proofread, if anything else, let me know - I’ll add it

word count: 4.4k

an: enjoy I guess, let me know your opinions, also thanks for so much support with wanda, tbh I though that it won’t do this great, but it did and all of you are so horny freaks, including myself, but truly I appreciate it!!!💕💕

(italics = your thoughts)

!MDNI!

Enjoy this spooky season and be safe!

The phone rings again, hidden caller. Picking up a secret number is really not your style. You let it ring, if they truly need you, they will write you a message.

Buzz.

Oh and they do need something important. You take your phone and look at the notification.

Hidden number

8:36PM

Call me ASAP, please! I can´t open the excel!

You calmed down a little bit as it was probably your classmate and accidentaly made their phone number hidden. Taking a deep breath before calling someone was always your go to thing, since the whole situation is very stressfull, you´d much rather write a long paragraph over a text, then just call someone. But since it´s about school, you´re less nervous.

You finger touch the last missed call and it starts to ring, as soon as you see that the other side picked it up, you started to speak.

"Hey! Sorry, I didn´t hear the phone. Anyways what´s going on with that file?" You took your notebook in case you have to make step by step tutorial to your classmate, because it wouldn´t be for the first time.

"No one ever told you lying is bad, (Y/N)?" You didnt recognize the voice, it wasn´t a voice you remember anyone having from your class, or the whole school. It was deep, raspy and mostly scary. You didn´t like horrors very much, but you were positive that you´ll get prank called or jumpscared by some idiot. And here they are, idiot on the line, at least that´s what you think.

"Haha very funny..." You´re mostly annoyed, but there is this side of little you, who is hoping this is truly your idiot classmate and no one else. "Do you wanna help with the sheet or not?"

Long big sigh can be heard on the other side. "And I thought you were a nice girl, (Y/N). Guess I was wrong. Don´t worry, we´ll work on that."

Now your little scary thought became a little bit bigger. You weren´t so sure it was someone you know.

"Who am I speaking with? Sorry, I don´t have your number added." You hoped they would say your name, you would stop panicking and it would be done it two minutes.

"Someone who likes to play games. (Y/N), would you like to play a game?" the raspy voice asked.

"No, thank you." Out of nervousness and mostly fear you hang up. You didn´t even realize until you stoped hearing the rapsy breath. Even if there was a truly a classmate who wanted a help, they shouldn´t prankcall you. Gosh how much you hated these things.

The phone didn´t ring again for quite some time, so you just let it go. Taking a long shower sounded like the best idea now. Out of the closet you took oversized shirt and some shorts and you headed to the bathroom. Doing your usual skin care routine went on automatic and brushing your teeth as well.

Coming back to your room, you notice that you left your closet opened, you sigh and close the door. Being too tired to prepare your clothes for tomorrows school day. As you lay on your bed, you hug your big teddy bear and your eyes immedietly close as you drift to sleep.

...

The next day goes smooth, first lecture was actually really interesting and you didn´t felt tired at all. You had your morning coffee and today was just a good day, you could feel it. You didn´t have those in a while, so it is very welcome.

Second lecture was indeed boring, but at least you know that the human eye blinks an average of 4 200 000 times a year, which is... a new information, that´s for sure. But the professor ended class sooner, so at least you had more time for lunch. And that´s a plus.

As you´re sitting alone, eating your lunch on a bench in a park, where you like to spend your free time between the classes, someone taps on your shoulder.

"Oh hi, Sam!" You smile, seeing your friend always makes your day better. "What are you doing here, I thought you´re working today." You scoop so Sam can sit next to you.

Sam met you when you were running late, literally. You two bumped into each other few months ago and because you spilled your coffee on her, you just had to pay for it somehow. So after you quickly gave her your number and basically sprinted out, Sam made sure you´ll keep your promise. And you did, few days after that you two met again and over a coffee realized how much things you two have in common.

She seemed like a cold and closed of person at first, but she is actually the sweetest teddy bear, as you like to call her for fun. Sam told you many times she hated it, but you made a good points that she is just so sweet, big and you feel safe when you´re around her, just like with teddy bear in your bed. And she was a taller than you, so that´s another point. After few "arguments" she actually let you win, so she is now your big and protective teddy bear.

You two started to hang out more and more, which just confirms your initial click, that Sam felt as soon as she laid her eyes on your sweet and innocent face.

"Well maybe I lied and I wanted to suprise you." Sam answers as she sits next to you.

"I am surprised," you giggle. "I have like a hour and something before my next lecture, so..." You look at your phone.

"Good." Sam smiles and tilts her head, she notices that you´re smiling ear to ear. "What got you smiling like that, (Y/N)?"

"Hm... nothing in particular, but it´s just a good day. And I´m enjoying a every single bit of it." You answer and your cheeks start to hurt a bit from all the smiling, you did in the last 10 minutes.

"Oh, I see. As you should." She nudges your arm with hers. "What are you doing after school?"

"I have to finish some excel to my statistic class, but besides that... nothing." Your thoughts are taking you back to last night and your weird call, with who you thought was your classmate.

Sam notices your smile fading and put her hand on your thigh, something she did pretty often, but it brings you butterflies everytime. "(Y/N)?"

"Hm? Yeah?" Sam just raises her eyebrow. "It´s nothing, I just had this weird person from school call me yesterday and... yeah, it was weird. A stupid prankcall." You roll your eyes.

Sam move her hand on your thigh up and down, trying to sooth you. "What did they say?"

"Just some stupid stuff, like do you want to play a game. Do I look like I want to play a game?" You sigh.

"Depends on the game. Horor game? Probably not. The Sims 4? Absolutely yes." Sam chuckles as you punch her arm.

"Every woman has her needs, mine is playing The Sims. Can you blame me?" You laugh, Sam always helps you with your bad and anxious thoughts.

The rest of your free time you two shared a lots of laughs, smiles and overall a good quality time together. Until you had to go back to your lectures, which made your day a little worse, since you wanted to keep talking to Sam.

...

Few hours later you finally finished all of your lectures for the day. You didn´t have that energy boost as you did this morning, but you´re still in a good mood. So you decided to walk from school back to your dorm. And even if it was October, it was still kinda warm outside so you put some soft music on and decided to walk.

Stepping into your dorm you notice that something is bad, you can´t point a finger on what it is, but the vibe seems off. Shaking off the feeling didn´t help for long, because as soon as you reach for your keys the ligh on the other side of the hall just turn off.

"Shit!" You flinch and your hands start to shake. As you succesfully get inside you lock your door faster than ever.

"Oh my god-" you take a few deep breaths. "It was just a light, (Y/N), everything is good. It was just a light." Mumbling out loud these words, in hopes that it will calm you down.

You turn all of your lights in your home on as a prevention for your mind from creating something that is not there. Lastly you go to your bedroom and open the door, you stop in your track in a moment when your eyes met a tall black figure next to your opened closet.

A cold shivers run down your spine, but with confidence it´s just your mind playing tricks you turn on the light even there.

But that choice just showed you, that this time, it´s not your mind playing tricks, but there is actually someone in your house. A tall black silluete turned into a big person with a black cloak and a white mask, looking like a ghost. You´ve seen this mask many times during Halloween parties. Quickly scanning the person you notice that they´re holding a knife. A knife!

"Oh fuck!" You qiuckly close your bedroom door, hoping you will get more time, but of course you had to lock all of your locks and jumping from a window was not an option since you´re living in the 9th floor.

Shit, shit, shit. Wait... I don´t hear anything.

The only thing that you can hear is your heartbeat, no steps, no breathing, just your heart. Looking back, noticing that the door you slammed shut before are now open again.

Your living in your worst shitty nightmare.

It´s a tap on your shoulder that almost makes you lose it. You let out the most horror scream in your entire life, you didn´t even think you could scream like that. The tall person with ghostface mask is standing right next to you, they shake their head and one of their hands makes it over your mouth to keep you shut. As soon as your bodies hit the floor, which suprisingly didn´t hurt at all due to all the adrenaline you have in you, right now. They pull their knife to your face and slowly slide it across your cheek, not hurting you in any way.

Your breathing gets faster and faster to the moment you feel like you start to hyperventillate.

"Hello, (Y/N). You cut our call last night, so I felt like meeting you in person, again, would help us solve the excel problem. Don´t you think?" It was the same raspy, deep voice you heard yesterday over the phone.

"I- uh s-sure." You nod as you mumble your answer agaist her hand, noting better came to your mind.

"Sure? Now you don´t have a problem with that, but yesterday you cut me off like I was a fucking no one?!" Now you were truly hoping that this is just a nightmare and you will wake up. "Isn´t it fair if i cut you off too? So you would now how it feels?" Their knife is swinging infront of your face again.

"I- No, please, don´t. I- i uh I´m sorry!" You mumble agaist their hand.

The person on top of you just laughs and bring your hand above your head and now you can´t move at all.

"I think it´s fair, you know how shitty I felt? And today you´re doing like nothing happened? Like I was just.. what did you described me as... as a weird person who said stupid stuff?" Their face coming closer to you. "I think it´s fair to show me some fucking respect." you feel a slight sweet cologne coming from that person.

A scent you know very well, It starts with a fresh burst of citrus, like a mandarin. With a little hint of vanilla and amber adds depth and warmth. This scent is a subtle and comforting, like a cherished memory to you. A cherished person, you know too well.

It can´t be...

Your eyes shift, looking over the mask again, your eyes anaylzing from side to side, like you´re trying to read their mind through the eyes on the mask.

They tilt their head again, the knife slowly going away from your face. You hope that what you thing is just a big misunderstanding, it can´t be her. Not your Sam.

"Sammy?" You mumble as their hand is going away from your mouth. Few tears forming in your eyes.

"Oh look at you, you figured it out." She takes her mask of and it was like a bullet straight through your heart. "Now be quiet or I´ll shut you up." She picks you up, like nothing and wallks quickly into your bedroom.

This was not your Sam, not your friend, she look like her, but her actions were the exact opposite of your comfort person.

She throws you at the bed and you´re now laying on your stomach, she comes closer to you again and whispers into your ear.

"Every woman has her needs, mine is playing with you, (Y/N). Can you blame me?" She chuckles as she repeat what you´ve said earlier. "Ass up." She put her hands on your hips and you put your ass up, as she told you. Too scared to do anything else. "Good girl." Sam praises you.

"S-Sam.." you whine out between with your tears streaming down your face.

"Oh shush, did no one told you to speak nicely about your friends? And not talk-" she spanks you, hard, "shit about your friends?" Sam spanks you again, this time it was even harder.

"I´m sorry, Sam- I didn´t-" you try to talk, but it´s hard when your face is burried in the pillows.

"I. Dont. Want. To. Hear. It. Now." Her voice was harsh and so was her hands on your ass with each words she growls into your ear, even when you have your clothes on, it still hurts too much. "Just take what I give you and then we might talk." Without any warning she takes your pants off, slicing your shirt and throwing it away.

"No bra?" Sam laughs. "You went the whole day without a fucking bra, you´re so pathetic, (Y/N)." She runs her knife on your back, she´s doesn´t want to hurt you really, at least not right now. "You did this on purpose? You´re look so innocent, but you´re not so innocent, are you?" Her hands find its way on your tits, she give them a tight squeeze and you can´t help, but let out a big moan.

You like this, which shock you more than the fact, that Samantha Carpenter broke into your house, just to play with you.

Her big strong arms, oh god how much you love her amrs. The way they hold you during your sleepovers, how they caught you everytime you walk into the street without looking both sides, or how they always brought comfort to you. Everytime.

But now? It´s totally different now, at least that´s what you think and Sam noticed that. And she can´t have you be thinking this much, when she wants to have her sweet time with you.

Her hands playing with your nipples, pinching each one very hard for you to come back to her. And you did, you realize just now that you´re not crying anymore, you´re just a moaning mess.

"You´re doing so good, look at you, mi amor, taking all the spanks as a punishment for how mouthy you were." You can sense the smile in her words and it´s like your Sammy is speaking to you, which instantly make your worries go away. Your body relaxes againt her and she can feel it, it´s like a small win for her. "Good, just like that."

You moan once again, it was more a needy moan than anything else. One second you´re on your stomach and the other one, you´re on your back, Sam holding your waist to scoop you closer to herself. She´s still wearing the black cloak, that don´t scare you anymore. If anything it is kinda attractive, that she´s still in her clothes and you´re just in your panties.

Looking at her with needy eyes was something that Sam saw a many times. Begging her to pick you up after school, or give you her hoodie, when you were cold. Or those many times when you cannot reach something, because it was way to high.

But this time you have this spark in your eyes, the good girl was gone, now Sam could really see the needy whore, who hid under the inoccent cover for the whole time. And this time Sam takes this as the ultimate win.

"Please-" you whine.

The most confident smirk appears on Sam´s face as her hands runs down your body, finally kissing your neck. "Please what?" Sam asks you between those sloppy kisses.

You let out another whine.

"I´m letting you speak, if i was you, i´d better use it." She bites your neck, which will definetly make a nasty bruise.

"Use me." Your move your head, so Sam has better acces to your neck.

"Oh wow, such a fitlhy words, for such a pretty little girl." She chuckles as she keep kissing your neck, her hands finding your tits again.

You never knew your nipples were this sensitive, but Sam knows. Of course she does. You feel as her hands are grooping your breasts, but you´re not satysfied, you want to see her, so you tug on her cloak and let out a whine.

"What?" She mumbles agaist your neck and then she pulls away to make eye contact with you.

"I wanna see you." You tug on her cloak again, "please."

Sam without a beat took her cloak off and she was now in her black underwear, sitting on top of you as your eyes wonder. She gives you a little time for checking her out and god you could stare at her for days. The light in your room making her muscles look even sharper, not that she needs it, but you just can´t have enough of her.

"You´re not so sad now, huh?" She smirks again, fuck how much you hated that confident smirk. Without waiting for your actual response, she dive back, her lips on your neck, making sure that after tonight everybody knows who do you belong to.

After a few minutes of Sam being basically a vampire, she starts to kiss her way down, slowly as she stops at your nipples again. Slowly, but hasrshly sucking on them, making sure to keep an eye contact with you. " Keep your eyes at me." You could cum just from watching her.

She treats you like a blank canvas, and as a skilled artist, she must make sure that you are painted with her in the end and with a pleasure you won´t forget.

Her big muscular hands are sliding down your body, pinching your inner thighs to tease you. She knows what you want, but she won´t give in that easily, even when you´re looking at her with those cute and innocent eyes.

Your hands are sliding off your panties, but Sam qiuckly takes your hands. "They are staying on and keep your hands above your head." Her raspy voice sends shivers down your pussy, that is now drenched, because of her touches and skilled movements.

You put your hands back above your head, wiggling a little to show Sam how impatient you are. She just sends you a quick slap on your thigh and you giggle.

Her finger slowly going up and down your clothed pussy, you can already see how wet your panties are and if Sam wasn´t that needy, she would make fun of you. Seeing you like this gives her so much power and let´s be real you are really feeding her ego.

"Sam!" You move your hips up, hoping she will actually do something.

"(Y/N)!" She mocks you with innocent smile on her face.

"Fuck- I need your fucking hands in me or I swear I´m gonna lose it!" You did lose it already.

"You want my fucking hand in you? You like my hands?" Sam whispers.

"I do! So much! I need your big hands in me, please!" You shift towards her again.

"Aww pretty little girl, do you think that your pussy will take my big hands?" Sam´s finger barerly toucing your slit.

"Yes! I can take it!" You think that you will be crying from the frustration.

"Say it."

"My little pussy will take your big fucking fingers! Hands! Whatever you give me, I can take it, Samantha!" You groan.

"Oh you´re using my full name, you really need it, huh?" She smirks again, but your wish is her command and in the end she wants to make you feel good. Pushing your panties to the side, your juices are everywhere and god she loves it.

"Is this for me?" Sam softly asks.

"Only for you." You give her a small smile.

"In that case-" she slides her two fingers in you, slowly pushing in and out. Sam already feels your pussy pulsating and her fingers get almost swallowed by you. "Oh wow, I was so wrong about you and I´m so happy I was." She adds another finger.

You whine, you feel aready so close, your pussy is feeling like it´s on fire, your hips going up and down and Sam´s just enjoying the view. You want more, so you feel like grabing Sam´s hand is a good idea. She raises her eyebrow and slip her fingers out of you.

You whine out, immedietly feeling empty, you feel like you gonna burst out, you really need to cum, but now you lost everything that felt good.

Sam slaps your pussy one time, but damn it´s painful. "I said, keep your hands to yourself." Her fingers slides quickly back into you, both of you know, that you´re very close.

"Ple-" you can´t even finish the word without a moan.

"Go on, scream. I want you to fucking scream my name, mi amor." She uses both of her hands now, one sliding in and out of you and the other one playing with your clit, which is something that gets you over the edge pretty easily.

Your whole body flex under her touch, this is the best release you ever had, it felt better than anything in this world, she definetly know what she´s doing. As you scream her name, Sam slows down her movements, for you to ride it all out, without being too overstimulated.

Sam gives you two kisses on each of your inner thighs and then kiss her way back up. She´s smiling and you are too.

The atmosphere went from being scared of your life to you having THE time of your life.

"There you go, little girl. How are we feeling hm?" Sam whispers into your ear as she wraps her strong hands around you.

"Fucking confused." You let out a small giggle.

"Watch your tone, young lady." Her hand squeezes your wrist.

"I- I´m good. Just... what just happened?" You lean into her.

Sam laughs as you´re confused. "You know I hate Halloween, you scared the living shit out of me with this prank, Sam. If you wanted to... you know, you could´ve just asked. I though you were some murderer!" You lazily mumble as you are half asleep already.

"Yeah and I love Halloween and asking you for a fuck session is not so fun. Me a murderer? Oh please." She kisses your head.

"Hmm.. whatever." You are too tired to have this conversation with her.

As you fall asleep in the arms of Samantha Carpenter you felt happy, today was really a great day.

Sam made sure you were dead asleep before getting up from the bed, but as soon as she did, you instantly start to move in discomfrot. She quickly grab your teddy bear and made you cuddle him instead and her plan worked. Cute smile was on your face again and Sam was glad you had this stuffie here as a replacement for her, when she needs to do her job. She knew you will be overthing when you woke up to an empty bed, so she quickly scribble down a note.

"I´ll call you later, I had to go to work, -s"

She took her knife that was laying on the ground, take on her cloak and last but not least take on her ghostface mask and went to work.

She was never a murderer, she was and still is just a protector. Especially when it comes to you.

…

Of course you had to call Sam, when you heard the news.

"Hi, how is my sleepyhead?" She chuckles into the phone.

"Hey, um... did you hear the news?" You quickly say to her, as you´re almost out of breath.

"What news?" She asks you.

"There was a murder, someone in a ghostface mask was seen few streets from my dorm. They killed a girl from my statistic class, I mean... I didn´t know her, but it´s still scary." As you say this, goosbumbs appear on your arms.

"Oh shit, that´s... scary even for me. Are you okay?" Sam asks with concern.

"Yeah, I didn´t know her or anything, but it´s crazy. Especially when you can buy the mask anywhere, since you have it too." You ramble over the phone.

"Right. It´s like I killed her, right?" Sam responds.

"Sam, don´t joke about these things. Can you maybe come to mine after work?" You really need her, to protect you and make you feel safe again.

"Give me 15 minutes." And with that Sam hang up. Drove away from the empty parking lot, where she watched your classmate, Tony. She heard a few stories from you, that Tony was being a dick during your presentation and no one can be a dick to you. No one.

And today is Tony’s lucky day, because you need her now and that´s way important. When she´s with you, no one can hurt you.

Only she can and that´s how it should be all the time.

Thank you for reading! Have a great day!!! And tell me what you think<3

[augusgus]

touch yourself (m.)

Being Sukuna's vessel isn't easy. Even less so if he's decided to take advantage of it - to his great pleasure and your humiliation.

pairing: ryomen sukuna x vessel fem!reader

tags: forced masturbation(?), a bit of degradation, corruption kink, sadistic sukuna (are we surprised), dacryphilia, oral sex, ruined orgasm, a tiny bit of spit play

You could hear his snicker even before you felt your cheek moving from Sukuna's sneer.

"What a lewd woman..." His voice was dripping with self-satisfaction, the kind that made you want to strangle him. Him and his damned influence over you.

Another wave of heat rushed through your body, this one stronger than the ones before, and a strangled whimper escaped your lips. Damn it, damn it, damn him. You were burning up and at this point it took everything in you to keep it together.

A knowing chuckle. "Why so shy?" There was a dark, cajoling tint to his whisper that sent involuntary shivers down your spine. "Or, perhaps, are you a filthy liar? Is that how it is? My, how scandalous!"

"T-that's rich coming from you, curse."

You were breathing heavily, fingers gripping your pillow with white knuckles. It hadn't been long since you had woken up from your body going into overdrive but it was already become too much to handle. Slowly, tantalisingly. It was mortifying to say the least, slowly losing control over yourself like that.

And Sukuna, being the source of your problem, was eating it right up.

You could feel the mouth on your cheek stretch impossibly to an even wider grin. "I would never deny myself pleasure, woman. I always take what I desire."

"Explains w-why you're such an ass," you quipped back.

You knew your response was weak. But you couldn't think clearly anymore - every drag of fabric against your skin, every shift of your fingers against the pillow was sending tingles up your neck and lighting up sparks in your brain.

His voice seemed closer to your ear now as he drawled, so sardonically, so humiliatingly smug, "you know, your perverted cunt is much more honest than you, woman. It's been dripping the whole time."

Wincing, you closed your eyes in shame as if that would make everything disappear. It wasn't for the first time that you wished to have never become a vessel for this demon, to have never given Sukuna the opportunity to touch the most vulnerable parts of your innermost and pick you apart by the seams with sadistic enjoyment. He was stripping you from your decency, dragging away layer by layer until he had you naked and cornered and cowering exactly the way he wanted you to.

You felt watched when your fingers slowly, almost involuntarily, travelled down your body - and in a sense you were indeed. Gleeful eyes, all over, drinking in this horrible humiliation that not even your lust-induced haze could block out... And that small part in yourself that actually took pleasure from this exploitation of your weakness - you started to hate that you have been made aware of its existence.

A gasp left your lips when your nails caught on one of your nipples, the slight touch alone enough to have a gush of wetness pooling between your legs. Sukuna's mouth laughed and the sheer proximity of the harsh sound made your head spin.

"Hah! Are you crying, woman?" He taunted. "D'you think that I'd take pity on you?"

"I'm n-not..." You hadn't noticed it before but tears had started to gather in your eyes. The realisation only made them well up more, salty liquid running down your cheek and landing on his tongue.

He laughed louder, a hint of madness vibrating in his sadistic excitement. "Yes, yes, this is it!! Lose yourself! Get even more desperate... You're a whore, behave like one!" You could feel his arousal brimming under your skin, dark and sticky, mixing with your own lust.

"You're such...an...asshole..." The insult lacked the usual spite. Forming words felt much too difficult all of a sudden.

If he had any regard for anyone other than himself, he would have stopped here, left you intact. He still would have had you hanging by the last threads of your pride, of your morals, but you'd be able to shrug it off as a moment of weakness. A lapse in judgment.

But Sukuna had never cared for the thing called restraint.

"Touch yourself, woman." He was playing with you, cruel in how his voice made it sound like an inevitable order. "Show me just how shameful you are, getting off on fingering your perverted cunt with a cursed spirit possessing your body. Show off how much you crave this!"

The moment the pads of your fingers pressed into the covered folds of your pussy, you couldn't breathe. The pleasure was all-consuming and the bit of relief that came with it made you momentarily forget about the guilt. "S'good..." the whine forced itself between your lips but you didn't have it in you anymore to care.

It felt so good... and yet the ache only seemed to grow stronger.

"Still not enough, huh." You could hear the grin, feel the movement right next to your ear, "what a slut."

And then white flashed before your eyes when something strong pushed against your entrance - Sukuna's mouth having opened on your palm instead, hot tongue licking a fat stripe up to your clit.

"Ah-hhhah...?!" there was no softness to his ministrations, no rhythm to make it easier for you to adjust. Whatever he decided to give to you, you had to take it. It was almost too much, balancing on the fine line between overwhelming and mind-numbing.

You had no control over the sounds you made anymore, over your muscles, and without thinking you pushed harder against your own hand, pressing the palm flat against your sticky folds to have better access to him. To have him closer, reach deeper.

Little sounds of "ah. Ah. Ah" filled the room and combined with the squelches from your dripping juices and his saliva. Sukuna laughed against your clothed core before biting along your outer lips, then slowly sliding his teeth over your clit - just gentle enough that the sensation had you squeezing your thighs even harder around your hand and trapping it effectively. With a scoff he sucked your clit into his mouth, rubbing circles into it with the tip of his tongue until you couldn't stop shaking.

Your orgasm wasn't far, the denial you've put yourself through having put your body in an even more vulnerable state. The coil was steadily tightening, growing in intensity until you could almost taste it on your tongue. A little more, just a little-

All contact vanished. Nothing, apart from your wet panties clinging to your folds. Gone was the pressure, lingering warmth all that was left. And still, in the last moment the slight shift of fabric made you tip over the edge.

You came but it didn't feel like an orgasm.

New tears welled up in your eyes as you realised, this was so unfair. So unfair. You could still feel the awaited pleasure brimming right underneath your skin, could feel it retracting without having given you any of the relief.

"Did ya really think you deserve to cum?" He was mocking you - his mouth back on your cheek letting a trail of spit run down his tongue and in between your own opened lips. It tasted like yourself.

Almost as if a dam had broken, you cried even more - desperation to cum, really cum, taking a hold of you. "Fuck you, fuck you, fuckyoufuckyoufuckyou..." your pussy was pulsating around nothing, your body having been tricked into an empty orgasm, but the lust was still right there. Heat pooling in where you thought to be your womb. You needed it, needed him. So bad.

"Come on, you can do better than that," Sukuna drawled. "Beg. Say it, say my name."

"Scream who it is you're letting yourself be fucked by."

[arctickat2400]

Love You More ~ Henry Cavill

Henry Cavill x Reader

Word Count: 2470

Warnings: insecure!reader, fluff, angst, tiny bit of blood, negative self talk

A/N 1: You can picture yourself wearing whatever you want in this, but I've originally pictured myself wearing a cropped tank top and underwear cuz even though I'm insecure about my body, I love chilling around the house without pants, and in my head I know Henry loves it too lol

A/N 2: You will see in this imagine that I mention a blanket. It is a type of sensory blanket, a small square of fabric that my mom made me that contains eight tags made of ribbon around the edges. It helps me when I'm anxious (which is basically 24/7) in which I will rub the tags between my fingers to calm my mind, keep my mind and hands occupied.

Hope you enjoy!!

***

You hate what you see when you look in the mirror - your soft belly, thick thighs, wide hips, love handles, cellulite-covered skin. You loved when friends and family complimented you, but your mind never believed them. Looking at each and every detail of your body, your mind becomes overwhelmed and your emotions become too intense. A shrill scream escapes your throat as you ram your fist into the glass, shattering it to pieces. You watch in tears as the shattered glass falls from the surface before your legs give out and you collapse to the cold tile floor. 

Henry had just gotten home about an hour ago. You had seemed fine then, happy to see him as usual, jumping into his arms as he pulled you into a sweet ‘hello’ kiss. However, as he sat at the kitchen island on his laptop reading over his script waiting for you to join him again, Henry knew that that had all changed when he heard your heart wrenching scream.

Henry paid no mind to the bar stool toppling over as he stood and ran up the stairs toward the sound that scared him most, Kal right on his heels. Rushing into the bathroom to see your curled up in tears on the floor, Henry doesn’t hesitate to kneel down beside your shaking body. Taking your trembling body in his arms, Henry tries to keep his own tears at bay when he sees the blood and tiny glass shards on your knuckles. Looking up at the now non-existent mirror and the shattered glass across the floor, Henry knows exactly what’s going on in your mind, holding you tighter in his strong embrace as you cry in agony. Henry looked at Kal sitting patiently in the bathroom door, and he knew he was just as worried as his father was about his mother. 

You’ve always been insecure about your body, even though Henry never ceases to tell you how much he loves your body. He thought that after you met him, you were getting better. And you have, but still, on those not so rare days, you’ll break down in tears. He hates that nothing has been able to help you long term. But, Henry is always there to hold you and take care of you, no matter what, and he vows to always be there for you. 

“It’s okay, baby. I’ve got you,” Henry whispers in your ear softly as he rocks you in his lap. You hold on to his arm, squeezing his bicep in your grip despite the pain in your right hand. Henry runs his fingers through your hair, placing a kiss to the top of your head, trying to soothe your angered mind. 

Henry listens as your labored breaths begin to calm, looking down to see your eyes closed. He let out a sigh of relief, even if it was only temporary, when he realized you had fallen asleep. 

You’ve been suffering with chronic fatigue for so long and it’s taken a toll on you physically, mentally, and emotionally. It prevents you from doing certain everyday things. Henry’s been there for you through it all and you can’t imagine how hard it would be without him. You could never thank him enough for how amazing he’s been since you met. But he hates that neither of you have been able to find a way to help. Some may say that what you’re going through needs to be fixed. However, Henry doesn’t want to fix you, because he doesn’t believe there’s anything broken. You just need a bit of extra love and care, and he has vowed to spend the rest of his life giving you that and more.

Henry, still holding your sleeping form in his arms, your head lying against his chest, leans forward into the bathroom cabinet under the sink to grab the rubbing alcohol and a washcloth. He takes a pair of tweezers and begins pulling out the small, yet knowingly painful shards of glass from your skin. He was thankful you were out cold so you didn’t have to experience the pain consciously. Kal, having laid down in the doorway, cried out after having smelled the blood and watching Henry take care of his mum. 

“It’s alright, buddy. Mum’s alright,” Henry assures his dog, looking over with a half smile to see Kal’s face lying on his paws, staring at the scene in front of him. 

After all the pieces were out, Henry washes over your knuckles with the alcohol, cleaning the blood from your cuts and down your hands where the blood ran. Once clean, he wraps gauze around your hand before picking you up and carrying you bridal style to your shared bed. Henry places you down carefully, covering you in the comforter before placing a sweet kiss to your forehead. He patted the bed softly for Kal to jump up and keep you company while Henry went back into the bathroom to pick up the broken glass. 

Henry couldn’t bear to leave you after what you just went through, so after cleaning, he sat in the recliner beside your bed, looking over you to make sure you were okay. Smiling sweetly at the sight of Kal’s large, fluffy head laying down on your thigh, Henry picked up his book from his bedside table to read. He always kept an eye on you, looking up every now and then when you would stir, only to turn over to get more comfortable in your sleep. 

After a while, it seems Henry had been reading the same sentences over and over, having trouble comprehending the words on the pages. His mind was plagued with thoughts of you and how all he wanted to do was help you, take care of you, love you so you wouldn’t think such horrible things about yourself anymore. 

The anxiety got the best of him, needing to get up and walk around instead. Henry stood up, placing a kiss on your forehead and, making sure you were still alright, he headed down the stairs quietly, Kal staying behind while cuddling up next to you. Henry paced around the loft - through the living room, down the hall, even going back up the stairs and into the bathroom before coming back out and passing you again on the bed. Kal raises his head each time Henry would pass before laying his head back down beside you. 

Henry finally ends up back downstairs and in the kitchen, leaning on the island, rubbing his face in slight distress. Henry hated seeing you in such pain. He hated that he couldn’t take the pain away, or at least some of it, take some of the weight off your shoulders and help you carry it. He hated that he couldn’t help you and make it all better. But he also knew that he would not stop trying, and he would continue to love you through it all.

Henry is in his own world when you decide to make your appearance, Kal following you down the steps and into the kitchen. He hadn’t noticed either of you until you came up behind him and wrapped your arms around his waist from behind, laying your head between his shoulder blades. 

“Hey, darling,” He greets softly, a sweet smile coming to his lips at just the mere presence of you. He brings one hand up to smooth over your bandaged hand that’s placed across his chest, intertwining your fingers. Henry turns in your embrace, taking you into his arms and holding your head to his chest, brushing his hand through your hair, his other hand gently rubbing your side.

The longer you stand there, the easier it is for your mind to become overwhelmed again with negative thoughts. Henry feels you start to shiver, hearing your soft sniffles as tears cascade down your cheeks.

“Shh, shh, shh. It’s okay, baby. Everything’s alright,” Henry tries calming you before placing his hands under your thighs and picking you up. You wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck, clinging to him like a koala. He rubs your back as he carries you to the couch. Sitting down, he holds you in his lap for a little while longer, Kal jumping up on the couch and laying beside you, placing his head on your thigh, looking up at you with sad eyes. As your sniffles and cries die down, Henry, with a bit of hesitation of your own, pushes you back, holding you close enough to be able to see your beautiful, but sorrowful red eyes. 

“What’s going on, sweetheart? Tell me what’s on your mind,” Henry requests as he brushes his thumb over your red, tear stained cheeks, looking into your eyes with such worry and sadness, yet the love and adoration never ceases.

You look down at your hands, picking at the skin, before Henry takes both your hands in his while leaning forward to grab your blanket from the coffee table, handing it to you. 

“I’ve just… I’ve been so tired lately. And I’ve been eating so much that I’ve gained weight. I’ve hardly been able to control my hunger and my mind is plagued by food, and all I can think about is how much I hate myself and my body because I can’t control any of this and I’m sick of being so damn tired all the time!” You pause, your breathing becoming heavy and labored, tears rushing from your eyes, as you smooth your fingers over one of the tags on your blanket. 

“And it doesn’t help that the thought keeps coming to me that you didn’t sign up for this and I’m scared you might feel like you’re stuck with me and how could you still love me like this?” You almost scream in tears, Kal letting out a worried whine in response. Henry takes you back into his arms, a look of panic on his face as he holds your head against his chest, his other hand smoothing down over your hair.

“Hey, hey, hey, no, baby. I’m right here. I’m not leaving you. This is the only place I want to be. If I could hold you forever, that’s exactly what I’d do,” Henry holds you tight as you cry for the next several minutes, fisting his shirt in your grip as you couldn’t keep your tears at bay. 

“Can you look at me now, princess?” Henry asks you, placing his hands on either side of your face, pulling you back to look at him. You sniffle as you lock eyes with his mesmerizing cerulean blue eyes. He gives you a reassuring smile, rubbing his thumbs across your temples.

“Listen very closely, my love. I have told you so many times, and it will never cease to be the truth, darling - no matter how you look, how much you weigh, how much you eat, now matter how much of literally anything you do, I will always, always, love you, no matter what. I don’t care if you lose or you gain weight. I love you for you, and I will always love you. There is not a single thing about you that could change that.” He has to repeat some things so he knows that it will be ingrained in your mind.

“Because the truth is, baby,” Henry pauses briefly with a smile, chuckling. “I can only ever love you more. Every day, when I think I can’t possibly love you more, you will do something crazy or silly, or say something absolutely outrageous, and it just makes me love you so much more. I still don’t know how you do it, but you never cease to amaze me, my sweet baby girl. And nothing about your body will ever change that,” He says it all with a huge smile on his face, his eyes never leaving yours, and you find yourself crying not sad tears, but happy ones now as you rush into Henry’s arms.

“I love you so much,” You whisper in his ear, holding onto him tight, your fingers curling into the hair at the nape of his neck. 

“You, my love, are the most magnificent woman I’ve ever met, and there will never be a day where I stop loving you, because it is impossible for me not to love you,” Henry admits, his arms tightening around your torso. He kisses the side of your head before you pull back, placing your hands on either side of his head now, leaning in and pressing your lips to his in a passionate expression of pure love and devotion. 

“Now, if you are ever thinking anything negative about your body again, my beautiful girl, you make sure to come straight to me and I will do everything in my power to make those thoughts go away, promise me?” Henry demands, firmly but in sweet assurance. 

You nod your head with a small smile, “I promise.” Henry smiles as he looks down and begins rubbing across your tummy with his knuckles.

“You do know that even though I’m not with you for your body, I still believe you are absolutely, breathtakingly gorgeous? There is not a single day I don’t look at you and think, ‘Damn, how did I get so lucky to be able to hold this stunning human being in my arms everyday?’ I mean how could someone not love this adorable belly of yours?” Henry chuckles as he leans down and blows a raspberry against your tummy. A deep red blush comes to your cheeks as a laugh erupts from your lips.

“I think it’s the other way around, my love.” You giggle, calming down as Henry, still with a smile on his face, comes back up and looks up into your eyes while rubbing your soft sides, his thumbs brushing over your belly. “How did I get so lucky to meet not only the handsomest man on earth, but the most caring, loving, warmest man with the biggest heart of gold who never ceases to tell me how much he loves me?” You smile shyly, your thumb brushing across his bottom lip. 

“We’re just a match made in heaven, my darling,” Henry says as you both laugh softly together, meeting in a sweet kiss, Henry’s hands on either of your thighs, holding you to him. 

You feel something cold against your arm and you both look down to see a smiling Kal looking up at both of you. “Hi, sweet boy,” You smile at Kal, running your fingers through the thick fur on his head while you lean forward to lay your head on Henry’s shoulder as he wraps his arms around you, thanking God for this extraordinary woman he gets to call his. 

[daydreaming-nerd]

Young Love and Old Money (Cassian x Female! Reader) Part 9

Young Love and Old Money Masterlist

AN: Okay remember when I said there would be a lot more angst? Well here we are. We have arrived at angst station, everybody off the train. This part is so dramatic I really laid it on thick here. Regardless I hope you enjoy and I will try to get part 10 up ASAP!!!

Summary: She was the most beautiful woman in Prythian, sister to the High Lord of Night, and now she is the soon-to-be wife of Eris Vanserra. Despite her many titles and her aura of unattainability, Cassian can't help but fall deeply in love with the princess of the Night Court. But will it be enough to stop her impending wedding to a man who is sure to destroy her from the inside out?

Warnings: Sexism, super heavy angst, this got really dark, violence, blood, implied rape (but not described), did I mention violence?, (I'm sorry you guys.)

Word Count: 6,333

The next morning I wake up in my own bed and I don’t move for hours. 

Thankfully, after about an hour of crying by the Sidra, Azriel found me and took me back to the House of Wind.  Apparently Cassian had sent him, which gave me a little bit  of hope. That is until I went to his door and found his room empty. According to Azriel he left for Windhaven after returning home to pack a bag.  I didn’t need to interrogate further to know that Cassian wouldn’t be back before the wedding. 

I spent the entire day before the wedding in bed, staring at the sliver of light on the floor that the curtains let into the darkened room. Everytime I close my eyes I could hear Cassian and I’s laughter, which made me unable to fall asleep. When I wasn’t reminiscing over memories of Cassian I was listening intently to the sounds of the house, hoping I would hear his heavy boots thudding back to his room. I just wanted to see him one last time. 

However, those footsteps never came, and I found myself staring at the wall until my body gave up on me, from either exhaustion or hunger and I fell asleep.

Cassian’s pov: 

The second I landed in Windhaven I cracked open a bottle of whiskey and downed a glass praying it would allow me to sleep. Of course I was wrong. 

The entire night I saw images of y/n holding that little girl in her arms. God I had practically melted right then and there, thinking about what she would look like holding our own children. How adorable they would be with their tiny wings. 

My sleepless night had carried over with me the next day, everything and everyone putting me on edge. A young Illyrian had dropped their sword while sparring and I blew up at him. Devlon tried to argue that the females shouldn’t be training and I nearly slammed his head into a wall.

I was aggressively sharpening my swords on the edge of the sparring ring when Azriel found me, my brother simply  nodded his head towards the center as if to say “blow off some steam big fella.” I couldn’t turn him down, as he was the only one who could give me a run for my money, and today he sure did. 

“You fight like shit and you look like shit too brother,” Azriel barked after beating me again. He tossed his sword to the ground seemingly calling it quits for the day. 

“Yeah well my mate is about to marry another male in the next 12 hours so how did you expect to find me?” I gripe at him taking my seat on a weathered rock. 

“I suppose I wouldn’t know what to do in your situation either,” he admitted, taking a seat next to me. 

“Seems about right for me. Grew up a bastard and lived in the mud till you and Rhys’ sorry asses came along. Lost my mother and never even got to bury her, fought for 500 years, and then became mated to the princess, who is marrying another male.”  I scoff, shaking my head at the ridiculousness. “I’ll give the mother one thing, at least she’s consistent.”

Azriel was quiet for a moment, as if taking in what I had said before clapping a hand on my back, “The pain, it will go away Cass. It will take time, but I will be there with you every step of the way.” he assured me, and for a moment I felt a little lighter. 

“Get wasted with me tomorrow?” I ask more seriously than I should.

“You know I will,” he said, offering me a slight smile. 

I hoped that Rhys had gotten some more whiskey since the last time I raided his cabinet, because I don’t think any amount of drink could make me forget the way she looked at me the first morning we woke up together. The way she would laugh when I kissed her cheeks, the feeling of her delicate hands running soap over my wings. How she would say “you need a bath!” when I would give her a sweaty hug after training. The face she made when I distracted her from one of her romance novels by tickling her feet that rested in my lap.  

By the cauldron, I was a dead man. 

y/n's pov:

Stepping into the Autumn Court felt like I was walking to my own execution. Instead of Eris being at the end of that aisle there would be a guillotine. I almost wished for that instead. Any comment made by Rhys about how I seemed tired I chalked up to pre-wedding nerves and thankfully he didn’t push after that. 

The entire morning had been spent poking and prodding at my skin, my hair and my eyes.  If I thought that Nuala and Cerridwen were meticulous I was sorely mistaken. The ladies of the Autumn Court didn’t mess around and if this was my life going forward (which sadly it was), cauldron boil me. 

The ladies in wait primped me up until a half an hour before I walked down the aisle. I had to literally commande them out of my suite in order to have a moment alone. I sat staring at myself in the floor length mirror. For what it was worth, I looked beautiful. I half expected the dress that was chosen for me to be  awful and gaudy, however it was elegant. The lace along the neckline mimicking the flames associated with Eris’ power. Had I been walking down the aisle to a different groom, I might venture to say that I was excited to be married. However as I stared at myself in my white wedding dress I couldn’t help but feel a tear slide down my face. 

A tentative knock reverberated through the room, nearly making me jump out of my skin. I took a deep breath and wiped away a stray tear. 

“Come in,” I said with shaky words looking at the double oak doors through the mirror before me.

The door opened slowly, whoever it was looking around the room before entering. A large figure finally popped it’s head in, eyes finding me immediately. I would know that jet black hair anywhere. 

Cassian. 

I whirled around to meet his gaze as he shut the door, taking slow and tentative steps towards me. His eyes searched my face for any hint of anger or resentment. 

“Cass,” I breathed, as if to assure myself he was really there. 

“You look beautiful,” he smiled looking me up and down, but I could see the veiled sadness on his face. He was putting on a front, and a bad one at that.

“Thank you,” I say, taking a tentative step towards him. “How did you get in here?”

“They don’t have you that well guarded,” he chuckled, stepping closer till he stood before me. Neither of us reached for one another, unsure of where we both stood. It felt wrong not to instantly wrap my arms around him. “I don’t like where we left things,” he continued.

“Neither do I,”   

“I wanted to say that I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I yelled at you that night. I’m sorry about the things I said,” he starts again. His hands reach for mine but pull back as if afraid to touch me. “I wanted to say that I understand now. And that I think you are incredibly brave to be doing this for Velaris. I’ll never be happy that you’re marrying Eris, and I’ll always wish it was me. But I understand now, and I respect the love you have for your people, and the lengths you’re willing to go to to keep them safe. Will you forgive me?” 

I feel the stray tear pricking my eye once more, “There was never anything to forgive Cass. I was more upset with myself for giving you false hope. For going along and loving you and acting like things were going to be alright when I couldn’t guarantee it.” I sigh, casting my head down, unable to face him.

I feel his gentle calloused hand tip my chin up to meet his gaze. His eyes, that beautiful hazel, glassed over. Despite it all, despite what I put him through, there is still so much love in them, and I know I’ll never really deserve it.

“Loving you was the greatest gift I’ve ever known, and ever will know,” he smiles as if he’s remembering the short time we did have together. “I’ll be here waiting if you should ever change your mind or in case something ever happens.” 

“Cass,” I start to protest but he stops me.

“I’ve loved you for so many years y/n. There can be no one else but you. If I don’t get to have you until we are both old and gray so be it. I’ve waited this long,” he assures me cupping my cheek.  

I don’t even have words to reply to his confession. Boundaries be damned. I threw myself around him pulling him as close as possible. His arms tighten around me like he had been waiting for me to make a move. In the embrace there’s an understanding, an unsaid agreement.

I back away to see those hazel eyes once more, my own eyes raking over his body. I notice he’s not dressed in a fine suit jacket, or even his fighting leathers. Instead, he’s donning a loose fitted shirt, something completely unfit for a royal wedding. 

“You’re not staying are you?” I ask, pressing a hand to his stubbled cheek that tells me he didn’t shave this morning.

“No, I just had to see you one last time,”  he answers, taking my hand from his cheek so he could hold both of them. 

The weight of his words shoot right through me, and as I look at him, I let them sink in. I watched as a tear slid down his own cheek, it was the only time I had ever seen the general cry. 

“One last time,” I repeated, letting the words consume me. 

His eyes glanced down at my lips, a silent plea to taste them again,

“Can I?” he whispered. 

“Gods yes,” I sigh. 

A hand drifted up cupping my cheek and pulling me into a kiss. The last kiss we might ever share. I poured every ounce of love into it trying to give him something to remember me by, trying to savor every moment of it for when my days ahead were darkest. My chest heaved as if being pulled forward and then…

Snap.

It was as if a piece of me was returned, one I never knew I lost. I pulled back to meet his gaze and by the way he looked at me I could tell he knew, had known. I felt like I was truly seeing him for the first time as that shimmering golden bond glowed between us.

“You’re my-” I started but I jumped at the bang sounding throughout the room. 

My eyes met the fiery auburn of Eris’ as he entered the room, at least twenty autumn court soldiers behind him. I didn’t have time to step away as he winnowed to me pulling me away from Cassian. 

“You!” he seethed at my general who was already assessing the situation. “I had my suspicions but never the proof and you fell into my trap so easily.” he boasted.  

My thoughts scrambled to what Cassian had said earlier…”They don’t have you that well guarded.”

“Restrain the bastard!” Eris ordered his grip on my arm tightening at the command. 

“No!” I screamed lurching for Cassian but Eris hauled me back to him. 

The soldiers were on him in an instant all of them falling like dominos before The Lord of Bloodshed. Cassian’s eyes blazed with a fury by the likes of which I had never seen before, he wasn’t a general protecting his princess. He was a male protecting his mate. 

Eris’ body tensed behind mine as soldier after soldier fell. In an act of desperation I felt him unsheathe the dagger at his thigh, pressing the blade to my throat. 

“Oh general,” Eris sang. 

It was enough to catch Cassian’s attention for a split second, his eyes widening as he saw the position I was in. A  rogue soldier used the small window of time to pull his dagger and stab it through Cassian’s side. 

“NO!” I screamed as Cassian hissed, his knees hitting the floor. Immediately the rest of the soldiers were on him, restraining him and binding his wings. His siphons tried to come to light but sputtered out.

“Bloodbane,” Eris smiles, lowering the dagger from my throat. “Stings like a bitch doesn’t it?” 

“Eris please, don’t do this. He’s my mate, I didn’t know until now and-” 

“I would choose your next words very carefully, pet,” he cuts me off. “Right now your ‘mate’ has been stabbed with a dagger laced in bloodbane, which means that even if your dear brother did know he was here he couldn't communicate with him. As for Rhysand, he now sits in a wedding chapel completely unaware and unarmed with a bloodbane arrow aimed for his fucking throat. And last time I checked the only asset you had was a magic cunt.” 

Cassain growled from the other side of the room at Eris’ vulgar words. My eyes flitted to where he was pulling against the restraints. 

“However, I consider myself a merciful ruler,” Eris taunted, grabbing my face to meet his stare. “I’ll give you a choice. You either walk down that aisle, be a good little wife, and pop out a couple of heirs as promised, or you call off the wedding and I’ll gut your precious general where he kneels.” 

“y/n, no!” Cassian gritted through bared teeth. 

I watched my mate struggle to break free, the bloodbane in his system beginning to take over. I looked to Eris who stared at me with hungry eyes. I tried to think of some way out of this, but Eris was right. We had fallen right into this trap, and my hands were tied.

My gaze met Cassian who could read my face like a book, “I’m sorry Cassian, but I once told you that I could never live with myself if something happened to you and I had the power to stop it.” I turn to face Eris and his shit eating grin. “If you promise not to hurt him, or my brother, I will go with you.” 

“You will submit to me fully?” Eris asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes,” I nod, my mind flashing back to when Rhys was in the same position. 

Eris steps closer to me, tilting my head up in an act of dominance, his mouth too close to mine for comfort. I could hear Cassian’s grunts as he continued to try and break free. 

“And you’ll warm my cock whenever I please?” he muses, clearly loving the control he has over me. 

“Yes,” I grit. 

He smiled triumphantly, releasing my chin as he turned to his guards, “Take him away and lock him in the dungeons.” 

“You said-”

“When you walk down that aisle and say ‘I do’ then I shall send him back to the Night Court, Jewel of Prythian. I won’t be taking any chances.” Eris growls in my face before turning to Cassian who had now been brought to his feet. “If I ever see you in my court, or anywhere near my wife again Prince of Bastards, I will make sure that she pays the price.” 

“You fucking bastard!” Cassian roars, body nearly limp from the bloodbane as he’s hauled off by the guards. 

“Wait, let me say goodbye!” I cry running to him, but I’m yanked back by my arm so roughly it nearly pops out of its socket.

“Your obedience begins now!” Eris grits but I pay him no mind thrashing about in his grasp trying to touch my mate once last time as he disappears behind the oak doors. 

“Cassian!” I scream for him, tears waterfalling over my eyes.

“y/n!” he shouts back. 

But it’s too late. The doors close with a definite slam and I’m left weeping in Eris’ grasp as I hear the sounds of Cassian struggling down the hall. 

Cassian’s pov: 

Eris was right, the bloodbane hurt like a bitch. Even an hour later as I sat on the cold, wet floor of the Autumn Court cell, the toxin still made me feel lethargic. As if I had taken the world's strongest sleeping tonic. 

The worst part of it all was that I could hear everything. The organ playing signaling that y/n was walking down the aisle and the cheers of the people as they finally said their vows. The worst and loudest of them all were the bells. 

They rang with such clarity, and joy. The happy little melody could be heard from everyone in the Autumn Court, announcing that the Eris and y/n were finally wed.  The ringing made me double over with grief, their sound a reminder that I was the only male in Prythian who could not protect his mate. A shame greater than being a bastard, and one I would carry with me until the end of my days. 

Metal on metal screeched from somewhere in the dungeon as a light poured in. The jingling of keys and stomping of boots stopped at the door to my cell and I didn’t even bother to look up. Nothing mattered anymore anyways. 

“Come on ‘Prince of Bastards’, time for you to go back to your own court,” the guard grumbled, like hauling me home was a huge inconvenience to him. 

I rose to my feet and stepped languidly out of the door. The restraints on my wrists and wings  were removed, the skin on my wrists rubbed raw from the blue stone shackles. I was led up the stairs to where the wards ended and was immediately winnowed to the border of the Autumn and Winter Court. The cold blizzards of winter whipping around us and chilling my wings. 

“Prince Eris has asked me to remind you that you are now banished from this court. He also says that should you choose to seek out his wife once more you know what the consequences will be.” the guard relayed. 

Before I could even think about punching the asshole square in his jaw he disappeared into thin air, no doubt going back to his post in the basement of the palace.

I was left with nothing but the sound of my own thoughts, and the feelings of my own guilt as I flew home towards the House of Wind where I knew Azriel was waiting. The flight was the longest one I had ever been on, as normally I took this route with y/n in my arms.

 I had never been so happy to touch down on solid ground once more. Azriel tentatively walked out onto the balcony, two glasses of whiskey in hand. His shadows told him that something was very wrong. 

“What the hell happened?” He asked, an alarm ringing in his voice. 

The lump in my throat returns as I remember how it all went down.  “The bond snapped for her, and she changed her mind. Eris found us, said he had set the whole thing up. I was stabbed with a bloodbane dagger,” I say, lifting my arm to assess the blood leaking from my side. “He told her that if she didn’t marry him he would gut me and Rhys.” 

The next words teeter on my lips as I feel my eyes brimming with tears. It felt like pieces of me were being ripped out as I finally confessed to my failure. 

“I couldn’t save her,” I choked out, voice cracking halfway through. 

The words being uttered into the world was enough to have my  knees crashing to the ground. The impact radiating through my body to the open wound on my side that still hadn’t healed.  I was sure that Azriel had said something as I heard the glasses of whiskey clatter to the ground. But the roaring in my ears was so loud, so unbearable, that the only thing that assured me he was still there was the arm he slung around my back as he knelt next to me.  

y/n’s pov:

The wedding was uneventful and to be honest the only part of it I remembered was when the priestess said, “If there is anyone present who can show just cause why these two may not be joined in matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace.” 

The silence that had fallen upon the crowd was so deafening I nearly shuddered. I was stupid to hope that he would come charging in like some fairytale I had read as a child.  The smug look on Eris' face as the priestess continued with the nuptials made my blood go cold. 

The reception was even worse. I had spent the entire time sipping wine with a bland expression on my face. It seemed as though Eris’ new favorite word was ‘wife’ considering he found a way to use it in every sentence.  While most would think it a term of endearment I knew it was just to show his ownership.

“Prince Eris, congratulations on stealing ‘The Jewel’ from us all,” a voice said, cutting across the sea of chatter. I looked up from my lap to find the High Lord of Spring, standing before our table. 

“Thank you Tamlin, she is quite the prize,” Eris crooned, placing a kiss to the back of my hand. 

“That she is,” Tamlin nodded, his eyes raking me from head to toe. “Almost makes me regret crossing her brother, I would’ve liked to have been in the race for her hand.” 

“All in the past now,” Eris smiles, kissing the palm of my hand.  “Right wife?” 

“Right,” I nod to him before turning to Tamlin. “High Lord, where is the Cursebreaker tonight? I would’ve liked to make my acquaintance.” I ask secretly hoping that my brother might catch a glimpse of his mate tonight. 

“Feyre is,” he averts his gaze from mine as if trying to decide what to say. “She is safe at home. Busily planning for the wedding.” 

“The wedding?” I inquired further, wondering if Rhys knew.

“Yes we are to be wed soon,” Tamlin beamed with pride. “I’m sure we will see you both present?” 

“Of course Tamlin, of course,” Eris assured the High Lord of Spring. 

Surely if Feyre was getting married to Tamlin my brother knew. I hoped I would get the chance to tell him. The last thing our court, well I suppose his court now, needed was another separation of mates. 

The rest of the night passed on quite slowly. At one point I was able to feel the bond between Cassian and I. It was faint, but it was there, and I almost swore that I felt him tug on it at one point. It wasn’t until people started making their excuses to go home that Eris finally said the words I had been dreading. 

“Shall we go to bed, wife?” he mused his lips brushing the shell of my ear. 

“After I say goodbye to my brother,” I nod standing up to find Rhys, wherever he was. 

“You’ll see your brother soon enough, my pet. For now let us retire to our chambers,” he growled, grasping my arm and winnowing away to what I assumed was his room.

He watched intently from behind me as I took in my surroundings. 

The bed was large, draped in furs and crisp white sheets. Wood paneling surrounded the four walls, giving the place an ornate look. The fireplace was a glow, casting a warm light upon the room. If it had been anyone else’s room it would’ve been cozy, maybe even romantic. 

The air filled with tension as I waited for Eris to do something, or say something, as I refused to turn and meet his gaze. The only sound heard was the crackling of the fire. 

“I’ve waited for this moment for quite a long time,” Eris mused from where I knew he was leaning against the door. 

“You’ve made that abundantly clear throughout our courtship,” I say straight, unable to meet his predatory stare.  

“How should I have acted when you are so tempting? So innocent, so pure, and now so completely mine,” he purred and I could hear his feet shuffle as he pushed off the wall. “And now that you’ve promised me your submission? Well,” he chuckled. “I’m going to have a great deal of fun with you.” 

The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. I knew what was coming and I knew he wouldn’t be gentle and loving like Cassian. I knew that once again my hands were tied.  

“Tell me you belong to me,” Eris uttered, taking a step closer to where I stood rigid. 

I sucked down the lump in my throat, “I belong to you,” I whispered.

“Tell me you want me to touch you,” he went on, taking another step forward, his presence looming. 

“I-I want you to touch me,” I repeated back, a tear slipping down my cheek.

Eris hummed in approval behind me. He took one, two more steps until I felt his warmth at my back. Finger tips danced up and down the backs of my arms causing my breath to lurch in fear. His breath was hot on my neck as his presence sucked out every bit of air from the room. 

“Tell me you love me,” he purred. 

My heart stopped cold. There were many things I would have to do or say to please Eris in the millennium that I would be tied to him. But these three words? He would never hear them from my lips. Maybe towards our children, but never to him. 

“You know it wouldn't be true,” I whisper, feeling the tension radiating from his body. 

His hands grip my hips like a brand, ripping my body around until I am face to face with his seething eyes. 

“Then I will make it fucking true!” he growls hauling my mouth to his. 

Eris had kissed me a thousand times before, not one of those times did I ever enjoy the experience. But this time? This had to be the worst. All of it felt so wrong.  Knowing I had a mate. Knowing he was somewhere in this world right now. It made me sick. It was rough, all teeth and tongues. He didn’t want to kiss me, he wanted to devour me.  

“Say it!” Eris demanded, breaking apart our so-called kiss.

“I will love your hounds and your mother, I may love your brothers and one day our children, but I will never love you, Eris Vanserra,” I seethed, unable to take much more. 

I expected him to growl, or curse or hit me. I expected a thorough lashing for what I had said, but he didn’t even so much as flinch. What scared me more? His mouth curled up in a smirk. 

“You forget that you are also a Vanserra now and speaking of heirs, I think it’s time I put one in you right now,” he mused and my stomach bottomed out. “What do you say ‘Jewel of Prythian’ think I can get you knocked up on the first try?” he smiled, backing me to his bed.

There were no words for the terror I felt. No handbook to prepare me for what came next. All I could do was shut down every emotion I had and do my best to become a ghost. A shell of myself. 

No matter how hard I tried, it didn’t subdue the pain. 

Azriel’s pov: 

I thought that getting Cass drunk might help distract him from the feelings floating down the bond tonight, but boy was I fucking wrong. 

I had seen my brother lose soldiers and whole infantries. Had seen him lose his first love, the valkyrie, Tanwyn. I was there the day Rhys and y/n went under the mountain and we thought we lost them for good. 

None of that compared to the screams of agony that emanated from the male before me. 

“He’s fucking hurting her!” Cassian bemoaned, gripping the nearly empty bottle of whiskey. 

It didn’t take much to figure out that he could feel everything y/n was feeling through the bond. And at this late hour? It wasn’t hard to guess what Eris was doing to her, and Cassian had to feel every moment of it down the bond.

“Shh calm down Cass you have to try and block her out,” I pleaded with him, gripping his hand in mine. 

His eyes were glassed over, his hair tangled from him nearly ripping it out at the roots. He had been like this for well over an hour now, and I almost wished the whiskey would do its job and make him fall asleep simply so he would be unconscious. 

“I can’t Az I’ve tried,” he yells at me, nearly slumping to the side from where he sat on the floor leaning against the wall. 

Earlier Rhys had spoken into my mind and asked if everything was alright. I had lied of course, telling him everything was fine, not wanting to insert myself in my brother and the princess’ business. Now I wished I had told him to come if only for him to break into Cass’ head and make him sleep. Watching him feel everything his mate was feeling while she was being… well there weren’t words for it. 

“Breathe Cass, breathe,” I soothed, trying to get him to catch his breath long enough to breathe in and out fully. 

“I-I can’t,” he cried. “My mate.” 

His voice resonated with hopelessness and brokenness, reminiscent of the tragedies depicted in literature. This situation felt nothing short of hellish. For centuries, I longed for a mate—a bond that every fae yearned for. But witnessing how it tormented Rhysand, and observing its impact on Cassian, made me question if I truly desired a mate. In my 500 years of life, I had never seen a male stripped down to his core as profoundly as this.

y/n’s pov:

The next morning I woke up late in the day, the atrocities of last night lasting well into the early hours of the morning. It took me a moment to get my bearings. I wasn’t in the House of Wind, I was in Eris’ room. It wasn’t Cassian’s arms around me in a possessive grasp, it was Eris’.

I slowed my heartrate down enough to assess the room around me. Behind me, Eris was fast asleep, which meant I had a few moments to collect myself before he woke. I looked around the room for a second space and found a door ajar that appeared to lead to a bathroom. I saw my opportunity and took it, carefully wiggling out of Eris’ grasp. 

My body ached all over, especially between my legs, but I pushed through until I stood from the bed. I tiptoed over to the bathroom, shutting the door as quietly as possible.  Thankfully there were two robes hung on the door. The one for Eris made up of thick cotton, and the one for me made of a cream colored silk. 

I reached for the silk robe and slipped it over my bare body, noting every large bruise and handprint that littered my skin. A problem for a later time, I told myself. 

I must’ve spent fifteen minutes in the bathroom collecting myself. Constantly repeating my new found mantra. 

I will not cry.

I will not cry.

I will not cry.

I spent so long taking deep breaths that I thought I was prepared for whatever came next. But the second I opened the door and saw Eris standing, staring down at the white sheets of the bed expectantly I knew I was sorely mistaken.

“You didn’t bleed,” Eris stated, tossing the bedsheets aside, stalking towards me. 

“What do you mean?” I replied feigning innocence like I didn’t know what he meant. 

My heart began to beat out of my chest as Eris stalked closer and closer to me. How could I have been so stupid? To overlook the one thing that meant the most to him in this entire facade.  

“Virgins are supposed to bleed the first time they are taken by a male, yet you didn’t,” he growled, stepping into my bubble as my back hit the wall. Never in my life had I felt so small.  “Which means you weren’t pure when you married me, or when you came to my bed.” 

Every nerve in my body froze over as I watched him put together the pieces. There was no telling what happened next, and the only thing I could do was beg for mercy from whatever plans Eris had for a soiled female. 

“Eris I-” 

“Did you let that Illyrian bastard deflower you?” he gritted out, a rough hand came to grip my  throat, slamming my head against the wall. 

Tears pricked my eyes. Even if I had wanted to answer, the hand on my neck wouldn’t allow me. I could only shake in terror and anticipation of what would become of me. 

“You useless, pathetic fucking whore.” he gritted, hand squeezing tighter with every insult. “Our marriage is now null and void by the traditions of my court, which means you no longer have the protection of being called my wife.” 

His hand releases my throat and I have mere seconds to suck down a breath before a harsh slap falls across my cheek, knocking the air from my lungs once again. The next thing I know I’m kneeling on the floor, clutching my face. Eris reaches out a hand to yank me up by my hair. 

“Let me show you what we do to ran through sluts in my court,” Eris spits in my face. 

His hand doesn’t relinquish its grip from my hair. Instead it begins to drag me out of the room and down the hall. My scalp is burning from the tug on my hair. He takes a back corridor reserved for servants and my bare knees bump, slice and break on the rough stone stairs leading down to wherever he’s taking me.

My hands try to find purchase on the walls around me so that I can ground myself and fight back but it’s impossible. 

“ERIS PLEASE!” I scream, but my pleas fall on deaf ears. 

We reach a basement room that drops in temperature and he finally releases me. I try to catch my breath as I watch him scribble something on a piece of paper, picking up a hammer and nail. I instantly go to cower in a corner as he walks towards me. The autumn prince pulls me out of my fetal position by my  ankles pinning me to the ground beneath his weight. 

“In case I did get you pregnant on the first try,” he seethes before I feel a sharp pain to my lower abdomen. 

I don’t look down, I can’t look down. Afraid of what I might see there when I do. My eyes roll to the back of my head as Eris grasps my arm and a cloud of darkness washes over us. 

When the shadow withdraws my bare skin is whipped and flayed by blistering cold winds. The ground beneath me is soft, but ice cold. I open my eyes long enough to see white as far as the eye can see. 

The Winter Court. 

“And just  in case you get any ideas about utilizing that so-called mating bond,” Eris speaks again before another sharp sting plunges into my side. 

White hot pain spreads from the intrusion and spreads like acid moving through my veins. I feel like the blood beneath my skin is on fire, and I almost wish it was in order to combat the blizzard around me. Only one thing could disable me like this, bloodbane. The very same used on Cassian.

“You’ve brought this upon yourself, ‘Jewel of Prythian’. I hope that bastard general was worth your life and your court. Because when Hybern comes to call it won’t be Autumn Court armies that come to your aid.” Eris says, the disgust in his voice evident. 

I can’t speak, can’t even think about anything but the agony I feel. The throb from my lower abdomen and from my side. The bite of the wind and snow on my bare skin. I can barely register the cloud of darkness as Eris winnows himself away, leaving me with nothing but a silk robe for warmth. 

I reached down with a cold hand to rip the dagger from my side. I hoped if I could stop the bloodbane from spreading that I might be able to use the bond to call Cassian. The second I discard the dagger blood stains the white snow surrounding me, and I realize my mistake. My hand grasps at the open wound, attempting to apply pressure. As I sat there, bleeding and freezing to death I thought of one thing. 

It was all for nothing.

All the pain, all the suffering. Hurting Cassian, hurting myself. It had all been for nothing. I was dying and alone, fingers and toes already losing feeling and I still had no army for my people. Cassian nowhere in sight to save my body and my soul. And I would die here knowing that it was all for nothing. 

Because time was of the essence, and no one was coming.

Part 10

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[euphemiaamillais]

being ‘roommates’ with snowjanus headcanons

cw: 18+//mentions of sex//mentions of violence//throuple goals <3//college au

you guys met at uni at a freshers party and they thought you were hot, but they didn’t want to seem too forward by hitting on you so you guys all became good friends

they had put out an ad for a roommate (living off campus was expensive) and you were looking for any excuse not to live in a tiny dorm

they were sad to find out that you had a boyfriend, because they both wanted you so bad

for a while they had a competition between the two of them to see which one of them could hold your attention for the longest time

they almost had a falling out with one another over both being interested in you

however, they reconciled the day that you found out your boyfriend was cheating on you and you let both of them have you

after that, threesomes became a regular occurrence

whether or not you were at a party, or lounging around at home, you always ended up coming one way or another when you were with the two of them

sejanus liked to treat you like his girlfriend, so he’d always bring you flowers or buy you expensive things if you pointed them out at the shops. being rich, he was able to spoil you

coryo thought it was a little much, considering you’d all established that it was a friends with benefits situation

not that any of you were sleeping with anyone else, you didn’t think you’d ever want to either seeing as you were so well satisfied by your boys

people would whisper at uni, finding it a little weird that you were so touchy with the both of them, but you didn’t care, you had them

coryo’s favourite thing was going down on each other at the same time—while you took his cock in your mouth, he’d sloppily eat your pussy

he loved the way you moaned against his cock as he made you cum, licking up your sweet juices

sejanus preferred to eat you out from behind as you tried to do your assignments, not giving up until he’d made you cum at least twice, in spite of your protests that you really needed to get your work done

sometimes the two of them would touch each other, and when you caught them you’d sit and watch, touching yourself to remind them that they were leaving you out, and it was awfully cruel to not let them have you

at parties you’d often sneak away and fuck each other in spare bedrooms, and on one occasion when you came out you saw their friend festus standing there

needless to say, he’d ended up with a black eye from coryo when he’d asked when it would be ‘his turn’ to have you, considering you let yourself be ‘shared around’ by coryo and sej

sometimes in classes you shared together, you’d tease them by rubbing your hand over their crotch, of course you were never daring enough to actually give them a handjob

but one day they decide to give you a bit of payback, and they both tease your cunt with their fingers, one of them rubbing at your clit while the other fingered you. you had to bury your head behind a textbook to avoid anyone seeing the way you were trying desperately not to cry out as they made you cum

you loved teasing them by sending pictures of yourself whether in lingerie that you’d picked out, or of you fucking yourself with your fingers

sometimes you’d even let them film you while you were fucking, your face buried into the mattress as they ploughed both your holes

your favourite video was of you sucking coryo’s dick, which you’d sent to sej one day when he was home visiting his parents. you were gagging around his cock as he thrust into you, while coryo teased you about how hard sej would be when he watched the video

the same time sej is away, you and coryo call him and he jerks off while coryo talks him through what he’s doing to you; ‘she’s so fucking tight sej, you wouldn’t believe how she looks right now, all fucked out and dumb on my cock.’ or ‘i filled her ass just for you sej, she kept complaining how much she missed having us both so i just couldn’t help myself’

making them go shopping with you and getting them to come in the changing rooms to ‘help you’ zip up your dress. needless to say, that usually ends with one of their cocks buried inside of you while you try to keep quiet

you also like trying on expensive lingerie and showing them, watching as they try their hardest to not get a boner in the middle of the shop

when you get home, they both decide to spend the entire evening seeing how far they can edge you, considering you decided to tease them so much while you were out. you end up begging, tears spilling down your cheeks as you clench around nothing—eventually, they let you finish, but only after a few hours of torturous fingering

you three would often play games with one another, for example you and sejanus might make coryo watch you two fuck, but refuse to let him touch himself, and see how he squirms and weeps, begging to wrap his hand around his cock

other times, coryo would get you to sit on sej’s cock but not move an inch, grinning at the sight of his friend trying his hardest not to thrust into you

you were very lucky, having two hot guys willing to do anything for you, and you were never short of satisfied, the boys making sure that you came at least once a day

and you wouldn’t have it any other way

[simply-wlw-kpopstan]

5. I'm sorry

⚠️ Spoilers ahead, tiny bit of smut

Everyone was going home today, you managed to get doa alone for a few minutes but she didn't know what harin was taking either. Despite the events yesterday you did have some fun here. Yerim was still checking her phone every 5 seconds hoping that eunjeong would text. A few days passed by and sooji managed to stop the game but now the whole world knew and they started an investigation. You never saw harin look so... Hurt. Dayeon had voted to quit the game and that was a slap to harin's face but it didn't compare to the look on her face when you stood up. You hated yourself for breaking her like that and were tempted to walk up to her and hold her. You had to keep yourself from actually doing it and avoided looking at her.

When they started the said investigation the class got diveded into groups and send off to other classes. You hadn't seen harin in the past 2 days until she showed up at your door. It was near 11 at night when your doorbell rang and you opened your door to a crying harin.

"I know I hurt you." she sniffled. "give me a chance to make things right. Come with me, we can transfer schools and start over. I promise I'll do whatever you want. Just please..... Don't leave me. I-I'm scared of being a-alone."

Seeing her this vulnerable broke you, "come here" you pulled her into your arms and inside the house before closing the door. For once you were sure this was real, no games and no ulterior motives. She started crying harder as you lead her towards the couch. "i'm here, I got you. Just let everything out." you ran your hand softly through her newly cut hair. When she came to school with this new look she shocked everyone but She was still just as beautiful.

"I-I'm sorry for SH-showing up like this." she stuttered out when she had calmed down.

"it's okay don't worry about that but uuh... How did you know where I live?" you asked carefully.

"I read your file and I know that's wrong but I did it with everyone back then." she made a move to sit up but you just nudged her back.

"it's okay, just lay down for a little while." she moved back in your arms and layed her head on your chest. "what else do you know about me from my file?"

"that you live with your aunt." she grabbed your hand that wasn't playing with her hair and gave a kiss on it. "i'm so sorry about your parents I didn't know."

"it's okay, it's a long time ago." you sighed as memories flashed inside your mind. You had lost your parents when you were 6, they had dropped you off at school and later got into an accident. You remember your aunt picking you up and taking you home, her sitting you down and telling you about what had happened and that you could stay with her if you wanted too.

"where is your aunt?"

"somewhere in Italy I think?" as you thought back to remember, harin moved and layed down with her head in your lap to look at you.

"you don't know where she is?"

"I know she's in Italy, she left a few weeks ago to work on some deals in a couple of cities. She mentioned them and wrote them down somewhere but I don't remember where."

"is she gone a lot?"

"from time to time. She only started traveling for work 2 years ago. I don't mind it though, I can take care of myself." you smiled down at her.

"I can see that." she smiled up at you, "I never knew you were from a wealthy background. Didn't you get a scholarship to baekyeon?"

"shouldn't you know that since you read my file?" you teased and she nudged you, "I did get an art scholarship. My aunt said I should take it, she'd put the money she normally had to pay in my college fund." you ran your fingers through her hair again before trailing them down to caress her cheek, "I can't just transfer because you ask me, you know that right?"

She lets out a sigh and closes her eyes at your touch, leaning into your hand with a sad smile. " I know. It just would've been nice to make a fresh start with my- with you." she catches herself just before she slipped but you knew what she wanted to say and couldn't help but smile. She was going to refer to you as her girlfriend. "Why are you smiling like that?"

"What were you going to say…" you wanted to hear her say it. "myyyyyy...." you dragged out in a teasing tone and she rolled on her side, nuzzling her face into your stomach gently. "come on, say it." you gently poked her side making her laugh.

"don't make me say it please." she muttered into your shirt. As you ran your hand through her hand again she moved back again. "thank you for tonight. I know I don't deserve it." her bottomlip trembled slightly at her words and you shook your head before leaning down, "You are the only one who has ever cared this much." she mumbled against your lips before giving in to the kiss.

Harin slipped her hand behind your neck as she moved up to sit next to you again. Slowely she leaned backwards, pulling you with her until she was laying down on the couch with you on top of her. Before things get too heated you pull away, "harin I can't do this. You're too vulnerable right now and I don't want to take advantage."

"You're not I promise. I want this, please. I want you. I..." She's clearly struggling to keep her tears from falling and you quickly wipe the ones that fall away, "I want to know how it feels to be loved."

"you already do." you smile softly at her, "because I love you. Even after everything I still loved you and I hated it, I still wanted to believe that the girl I'm looking at right now was still in there. I'm so happy that I was right about it."

"please" she pulls you closer again and your lips hover right above hers, "please I want to - " her voice cracks at the end and you folded, leaning down to connect your lips in a passionate kiss. She sighs as you slip your knee in-between her thighs, her hands slip under your shirt and you gasped at the cold feeling.

"we should take this to the bedroom." you pull her off the couch but harin quickly reconnects your lips. Never in a million years did you think she could be this needy and submissive, she always appeared confident but the girl in your arms was so fragile. As you make your way to your bedroom you bump into stuff and it makes the both of you chuckle every time, smiling against each other's lips but never straying to far from the other. You manage to get to your bed without breaking anything, harin sat down before you could even say something and slightly tugs at your shirt to get you on top of her again.

You leaned down to press another kiss on her lips as you fiddled with the buttons of her cardigan. Once you popped the last one open, harin had pulled it off immediately. She grabbed the hem of your shirt and only when you nodded did she pull it off of you. "are you sure?" you ask again.

"yes." she puts a hand on your hip and pulls you closer to her, "i'm a 100% sure."

"if you want to stop you can say so okay?" You cupped her cheeks and made her look up at you, "and please tell me if something makes you uncomfortable." she nodded at your words and with those promises made you both stripped down completely. Once completely void of clothes you climb in bed, kissing and caressing one another's body. As you're kissing down harin's neck You reached down and rubbed her clit. You started off slowly making small circles. If she wants to feel loved then that's what you'll do, shower her with soft and gentle touches until she reached her high. She squirmed at the sensation, her nails scratching down your back in a silent plea to give her more.

Her eyes fall shut when you curl your fingers inside her, hitting that sweet spot over and over again. The sounds that were escaping were music to your ears but you needed more, you needed to hear her moan your name, needed to know how she tasted. You lick your lips at the thought and made your way down her body, kissing and marking a trail that would only be known by the two of you.

“oh fuck,” she moaned, tossing her head back with a heavy gasp as your lips sealed shut around her sensitive nub. She grabbed your head and pullled you closer, feeling the pleasure get more and more intense. You switched between licking and sucking while your fingers still pumped inside of her. As you feel her walls clench on your fingers you knew she was close and were torn between staying in-between her legs and finishing her off or to add more sensation with your kisses. She wanted to feel loved so it was an easy decision. You get back up to her face as you reposition your hand so your palm would replace the friction of your tongue while your fingers were still pumping and curling inside of her, hitting her g spot over and over again.

You kiss a trail up and down her neck, stopping at her pulse point and biting down as you feel her body tense up. "it's okay, let go baby" harin's nails drag down your back as her orgasm arrives.

"fuck." she moans as she comes down from her high. Your fingers still slowely going in and out to let her ride it out completely. "I could get use to that"

"So could I" you said as you smiled against her skin. "do you... do you want to stay?" you leaned up on your elbows and watched her think it over, " we can wash up and cuddle."

"I'll stay" she smiles. "but only if you join me."

"don't get too bold now," you leaned down and stole a few kisses, " I can do much more then I just did, remember our conversation in the art studio at school?"

"hmm, I do and you weren't lying when you said you were good with your hands."

"come on," you got off the bed and held out your hand, " let's take a shower before we go to bed. You can use my bathroom, I'll change the sheets when you're in there and you can just grab anything from my closet. I'll be in the other bathroom if you need anything okay? It's down the hall on the right."

You stripped your bed from the sheets and replaced them with fresh linen, threw the dirty ones in the washing machine and hopped in the shower. When you get back to your bedroom harin is already laying down on the freshly made bed in your clothes and you had to admit you liked the sight more than you thought you would. you slipped in beside her and the moment you stopped moving she turns around to cuddle into you, nuzzling her face in the crook of your neck and a hand on your stomach underneath your shirt. "goodnight princess."

you hear her mumble something back but it was too hard to make out what she said as she was succumbing to her sleep.

masterlist | next

[ax-y10]

✮ knock ✮

in which- you have a fear of showing too much of your own skin due to past dreams and coincidences, but wilbur is there to help.

chapter info- mentions of private areas, mentions of fears, descriptions of nudity, descriptions of past situations, just a vent fic essentially

a/n- i made this as a sort of vent/coping mechanism because i needed to get this out somewhere to make myself feel better so here you go

pronouns- none (you/yours)

masterlist-

you're sat in your boyfriend's bedroom, a frown present on your face and hot tears running down your face. maybe this wasn't worth getting so worked up about but it reminded you too much of years ago.

when you were in grade five, you'd had a dream where you were naked at school, beginning your fear of being judged by everyone. a year later in grade six, you had another dream about being naked at school, and that heightened your fear, if not hatched your fear of showing skin.

to make things worse, you've had multiple occasions where someone you know, whether it be family or close friends, has walked in on you changing, ultimately making your fear of showing skin ten times worse.

you'd swear that you would rather die than show skin to anyone in close relation to you. if you had to do one thing before you died, showing skin was the last on that list. it was your last resort, barely that. showing skin was never an option for you.

you'd been pressured by beauty standards, peer pressure, and wanting to seem more confident that once you did finally show a tiny bit of skin, it all went haywire, and every girl you walked past gave you weird stares or even just laughed at you as you walked past. you were never and never will be known for showing skin. you'll always be known as the girl who has self-esteem issues, hates showing skin. the amount of times you've been called a pick-me for the way you dress has you fuming at the statement.

and now, your boyfriend accidentally walking in on you showering has sent you back into a horrible spiral of worries and concerns and fears, breaking down into hysterics on his bed.

did wilbur know you were sobbing in his bedroom? no. he was in the kitchen cooking dinner for you both. were you desperately trying to calm yourself down without wilbur's help? yes, and it sure as hell wouldn't work with him not there.

"darling?" his voice from the other side of the door startled you enough to break you out of whatever bad thoughts were strangling your head.

"i have dinner," he'd state, before the handle of the door slowly starts turning.

"no! not yet. give me a second!" you yelled from his bed, scurrying into his bathroom and throwing on one of his sweaters he'd left in there for you.

it was silent. at least on the outside of his room. inside however? your mental rambling had started back up again and was attacking you.

a minute passed. two minutes passed. three minutes passed. five minutes passe-

"sweetheart, i'm gonna come in. something's wrong,"

his large figure in the doorway was inching it's way towards you, causing you to move back with each of his steps.

"oh, my love, what's wrong?" fuck. he'd caught on.

you were silent. all your communication skills were out the window.

"c'mere" his voice soft, calm, and collected rang through your ears.

and before you could blink, your head was nuzzled in his neck, your arms tightening around his shoulders as you clung to him, you legs bent uncomfortably underneath you, and your tears soaking into his shoulder.

he was happy to stay there all night if you needed, happy to let you cry it out, happy to listen, happy to talk. as long as you were okay.

"knock before you walk into the bathroom if i'm in there, please?"

"no problem, darling. have some pasta and rest easy and you can talk about it more if needed when you wake up, alright?" he paused, took a deep breath, and continued., "i'm right here, always. i'll stay with you tonight, okay? i love you,"

and all you can remember was the warmth of his arms before you fell asleep.

[tan1shere]

Bitter Sweet

Ellie williams x fem reader !

Summary: you're the sweetest soul around Jackson, perfect girlfriend, perfect friends. Everything seems to be perfect but it isn't. You get bullied, but no one sees it. You hide your feelings until one day it gets really bad

A/n: just thought of this in bed, I'm feeling a lil insecure myself so i hope you girlies get warm fuzzies at this cute lil fic (I haven't proof read this yet so- if there's any mistakes pretend I'm an amazing speller 🥰)

Warnings: none just fluff really. Reader is insecure about body, so maybe if it triggers you or you don't want to cry or I dunno, just thought I'd mention :) kinda angst??? But also not-? Body shaming-? (Do not condone whatsoever. But I relate a tiny bit- sadly- anyways)

Masterlist

You enjoyed days like these, the sunshine kisses your beautiful bronze skin, the slight tan arising from the beautiful summer air. You were currently attending to your garden, listening to all the critters making their pretty musical songs. When you get a tap on your shoulder startling you. You stand up and look to find your girlfriend, Ellie looming over you. You get up fanning out your skirt from any dirt. "Sorry angel. Didn't mean to give you a fright." You smile at her. "No no it's alright." You speak softly going to kiss her. "What have you got planned for today?" She swipes a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

"Just picking out some flowers for my new vase." You smile brightly at her. She returns that smile, looking around at your garden. "How about you Els." You ask going to grab some of the flowers and heading inside. "Me, Dina, Jesse, and a few others were going to go out later and ofcourse I'm asking you to tag along." You weren't a very outgoing person, you kept to yourself. You knew Jesse and Dina, although you aren't one hundred percent comfortable around them. You stuck close to Ellie, always. She was your rock. "Uhhh maybe." You go over to your sink, her following close behind. "You'll be with me baby I'll make sure everything's ok."

You contemplate. "Maybe Els. I dunno I'm not use to New people." She goes closer to you. "I know I know, but I really want you there. Please?" You think more, really not sure. "I guess it couldn't hurt." You smile slightly. She smiles more. "Awesome I'll come pick you up later." She kisses your cheek, leaving you to your thoughts as she leaves out the door. You didn't have a good feeling about this.

Few hours had passed and it was almost the time Ellie was suppose to pick you up. You were just looking in the mirror you constantly wore skirts and cute blouses. You examined your body, your stomach, thighs, arms. Even if you aren't big or anything you still feel awful about your body. Stretch marks, your pale skin. You wanted to cry. If you were completely honest you just wanted to stay home. But seeing Ellie so happy made you happy. You get up to a knock on the door, going and opening it. "You look beautiful." She says smiling at you. Lies. You knew she was just being kind. You never really believed her when she'd compliment you. You just couldn't.

"Where are we going?" She leads you out. "Dinas, she's having it at hers." "And how many people will be there?" You ask nervous. "Uhh maybe like 10 at most." You sigh. She was so outgoing, so enthusiastic, knew everyone and anyone. You don't know what she even saw in you. You were so different. "We don't have to be there for long." She nods with a tiny smile. You nod back. Still not even wanting to leave in the first place. Your bed sounds so much more comfortable right now.

Once you're at Dinas, she greets you by the door. "Hey you two, come in." You both step inside hearing some music and voices. You stay close behind Ellies tall figure like a puppy dog. "Thanks Dee." She smiles at Dina, going into the kitchen to get a drink. You kept on following, when some giggling girls walking past, caught your attention. One looked you up and down. And definitely not in a good way. They all walk on by grabbing their own drinks. You felt queasy. "So we could just chill in here, maybe dance." You just nod along to her words. This was going to be a long night.

You had just told Ellie you needed to use the bathroom, heading down a hallway, full of drunk teens. The smell was putrid, some even making out. Once you approached the bathroom you notice the same girl from earlier and her little group. You decide on whether or not you should speak up, or hold this unbearable pee until you get home. "U-uhm.. excuse me.." Your voice was weak, frightened of these strangers. "Oh I'm sorry, did you say something?" The main one spat. One of her friends snickering. "I need to use the bathroom.." You didn't want to make eye contact. You couldn't.

"Sorry but you might want to speak up. Can't quite hear you when you talk like a toddler." You go silent. "Still can't hear you." She smirks. You really don't know what to do. Should you leave? "Well come on, spit it out. And this time, try not to speak like a my little pony character." Its the way you caught onto what she was saying right away. That made you want to run, but you felt glued, like you couldn't. "Aren't you Ellie Williams girlfriend?" You look at the blonde infront of you. "U-uh yeah." You stutter. "Pft, I have no idea what she sees in you. She could do way, better." Her friends laugh yet again. "I mean come on, you follow her around like a lost dog. Think that lil bit you did just then was the first time I've heard you speak." You go to leave, just wanting to go home.

But she grabs your wrist. "Oh look girls, she's even the size of a toddler." She fake pouts as they giggle. You hated how tiny your wrists were. You hated it. You hated how small your hands were. You never held Ellies hand, you were afraid she'd view you differently. "Damn, do you even eat." You blink at her. You ate perfectly fine. You don't even know why you look like this. "I- i-" She let's go. "Y-you." She mocks with a snicker. "Go back to being a lil follower to your girlfriend. You pathetic twig." You felt tears threatening to spill at any moment now. And all you could do was run. "Careful you might break something!" She calls out, turning to laugh with her friends. Bitches.

You ran out of that horrid house, tears streaming down your face, sprinting to yours. Feeling your eyes blur as you slam your door and sink to the floor. You let it all out now. How can someone be so cruel. But oh they were so incredibly right. That's why it hurt so much. They saw what you saw. The truth. Suddenly there was a banging on the door to be found with Ellies worried voice. "Babe, open up please." You sniffle. "J-just go home Ellie.." There was a pause. "You know damn well I'm not doing that, please let me in." Your shakey frame moves out of the way to let her in.

"Hey hey whats going on with you-" She goes to reach for your arms but you immediately make sure that doesn't happen. She feels her heart break. "Y-you don't wanna touch that.." She furrows her brows in utter confusion. "Baby what are you on about." If she wasn't worried before she really fucking is now. "No.. you- you don't wanna be with some twig wh-who can't even talk to people properly." You sob out feeling your body ache. "Babe where is this coming fro-" You look at her. "My brain. Everyone, you-" She shakes her head. "Woah woah woah. Calm down, I don't know what's going on but you need to breathe." You cry more. "I- I can't.. my brain won't shut up, I'm ugly Ellie i- I am.. and everyone sees that."

She was shocked but that slowly turns into a tiny giggle. She moves closer to you grabbing your face gently. "Do you have any idea how naturally gorgeous you are." You look at her still feeling tears. You know she's caught on. "Whoever said these things are clearly big fucking cunts." You were shocked by the language she used, but you let out a tiny dry laugh, feeling your throat and eyes hurt from the crying. "And if it's who I think it is, there's one thing they need that you don't." You listen, wondering what that was. "They need makeup. You don't. And that is something you should be truly proud of." You melt at her lovely words. She rubs her thumb under your eye gently. Wiping away those pesky tears.

"Your natural beauty is my favorite thing in this whole world, so please. Never change. And it's not like you're unhealthy. You eat often and good. When they're over there, eating crap, getting sick. If anything they're the ones who should be vividly insecure. And they are, jealousy." She looks at every inch of your face admiringly. "Bitches." You blurt out making her smile so big. "Yeah, bitches." She kisses your nose. "Please never change because I fell inlove with my natural sweet baby. You're beautiful just the way you are angel. And I will remind you every single day. I'll kiss everything you don't like. And I'll do that everyday." You lean up on your tiptoes to kiss her. She kisses back sweetly.

"Why don't we get into bed and watch a movie, sound good?" You nod at her. "I love you Els." "I love you too my precious girl."

A/n: If you are struggling with your insecurities please know you're never alone in that and I hope this made you realize how everyone's perfect in their own way. I may not see that all the time in myself. But I do know my worth <3 (also not saying that makeups horrible I literally wear it often, but no one needs it to truly feel pretty. I enjoy doing it because it's fun!)

[sailor-aviator]

Okay so @mayhemmanaged reblogged something from @ohtobeleah and now I can't stop picturing DHTN!Jake with his and Scouts newborn??

Imagine Scout waking up in the middle of the night to find Jake not in bed with her. His side of the bed isn't cold, so she knows he hasn't been up for long. She gets out of bed, still half asleep and wanders through the house. She smiles when she hears Jake making cooing noises in the nursery. Quietly, she comes to the open door, finding her husband holding the gurgling baby in his arms.

Imagine how tiny his newborn son would be in his arms as he gently rocks him from side to side.

"You got me wrapped 'round your little finger just like your mama, huh Cowboy?" he'd say softly. Their son lets out another gurgle and Jake smiles widely down at him.

"Ya know," Jake continues, eyebrows raising, "There was a time there that I was worried I wouldn't get to meet you."

Their son lets out a small cry and Jake chuckles.

"I know," he coos, holding the tiny infant's hand in his much larger one. "Your mama wouldn't give me the time of day for the longest time. She drove me crazy, but it only made me want her more."

He hums thoughtfully. "Had to prove myself to her first. Your mama wasn't going to settle for just anyone, but I knew I'd win her over. Knew it from the moment I laid eyes on her."

"He's not even a month old, and you're already spinning him yarns?" she'd ask. Jake would jump slightly, and the little boy would cry in protest. Scout would rest her arm on Jake's shoulder, leaning over to comfort their little one.

"It's not a yarn if it's true," he'd chuckle, leaning down to place a soft kiss to her cheek. "Did I wake you?"

"No," she'd sigh happily, now resting her head against Jake's arm. "And you and I remember those events very differently."

"How's that?" he'd ask, cocking his eyebrow, a smile playing on his lips.

"I remember you sticking your foot in your mouth quite a bit, for starters."

"You shouldn't lie in front of the baby, darlin'. It's a filthy habit."

"It's not a lie if it's true," she'd tease, throwing his words back at him. He would chuckle, and stare back at her with an adoring gaze. He'd look down at their son, adoration growing.

"We made him," he'd whisper, awestruck. Scout would reach up to place a kiss to his temple.

"Yes, we did."

[vanfleeter]

The Old Oak Tree // JTK

Characters: Jake x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Fluff. Kissing. Tiniest bit of angst, you can see it if you squint really hard. Language. Cussing. Smut. Penetrative sex (p in v). Unprotected sex. Public sex. Oral sex (m receiving). Let me know if I missed anything.

Author's Note: Jaketober continues!

Summary: Jake invites the reader to join him in a picnic date underneath an old oak tree from your childhoods and reminiscing over past memories and also creating new ones.

The red, orangey colored leaves slowly fall from the old oak tree. One by one, each of them flutter to the ground. Jake picks one up after it lands on his thigh and twists the stem between his thumb and index finger. There’s a slight breeze that blows his hair and brings a sweet scent wafting by his nose. He turns his head to look behind him to see you approaching. He smiles and starts to stand to his feet before you stop and come down to his level. You crossed your legs in front of you as you sat down on the blanket.

“Thank you for coming.” He smiles. He offers you a clear plastic cup of apple cider. “I would’ve used the fancy glasses but I didn’t trust myself to not drop them.”

You giggle and happily take the drink. “It’s been a while since we’ve been out here,” You say as you look around. “We used to come out here all the time.”

He nods his head and takes a drink of his own cider. “We have some fond memories out here,” He says. “Remember when we first found this tree?”

You smile and nod your head. “Yeah, I remember that. We were out here exploring when you spotted it. You said the way the branches weaved made it look like spider webs. You immediately grew attached to it and we both decided that it was our tree.”

“I wonder if I could uproot it and bring it to our house.”

You scoff and shake your head. “And I’m sure you’d find a way.” You say.

He chuckles and takes another drink of the cider. “Remember our first kiss here?” He says. “After homecoming.”

Your cheeks grow warm and he softly laughs. “You wanted to make the whole night romantic. From the intricately arranged corsage with my favorite flowers to making sure the DJ played our song and then sneaking us out here only for you to finally get over your shyness and kiss me.”

Jake rolls his eyes with a smile. “You could have kissed me first too, you know.” He says.

“I was sixteen, Jake. I was scared that even though you liked me, you didn’t like me enough to want to kiss me.”

He shakes his head and reaches out for you. He cups his hand around your cheek and leans in close enough for you to feel his breath against your lips and smell the cider he’s been drinking. “I’ve always wanted to kiss you. Ever since we first held hands, all I ever thought about was kissing you. I imagined your lips feeling as soft as your hands.”

“Were they soft?” You question.

He smiles and nods his head. His eyes flickering from your eyes to your lips. “Mmhmm..” He hums before closing the tiny gap between you two and connecting his lips to yours. He pulls away after a few seconds. “Still are..”

You giggle and slightly push on his shoulder. He smiles and reaches for your hand and begins to lightly rub his thumb over your knuckles.

“I also remember the day we broke up underneath this tree.” He chuckles. “Senior year, the band was picking up more traction and we started drifting.. I was so busy with the band and you worked a lot to help with the bills..”

You sadly nod your head. “Yeah.. That was the worst.” You say. “It sucked ass.. I think I cried so much that day that I dehydrated myself.” You scoff. “I thought I was so pathetic crying over you. At the time it was just a high school relationship, why was I so upset about it?”

You hear him humming and he squeezes your hand. “Yeah.. But then.. We ran into each other again–what, a couple years after graduation?”

You nod your head. “Yeah.. The four of you came back after touring for so long and somehow the two of us ended up back here.”

He nods his head and lifts his chin to look up at the nearly bare branches of the tree. “I found myself coming out here to clear my head,” He says. “Life had gotten so chaotic that I needed an escape.. So that one day, I snuck away from all of the family stuff that was going on and came here to find some peace and quiet–and then I saw you.”

The sun disappears behind a big cloud so Jake lifts his sunglasses from his eyes and perches them on top of his head.

“You were just sitting there with a notebook and you were writing furiously, so consumed by your thoughts that you didn’t even know I was there until my foot snapped a tree branch.”

“I was scared shitless..”

He chuckles. “You looked like you had seen a ghost.” He says. “Though I expected nothing less.. It was nearing Halloween and the woods do get pretty creepy out here at night.”

“Wasn’t that the night we got back together?” You ask.

“Mmhmm, yeah,” He says, still rubbing your knuckles, more so the knuckle of your left ring finger. “I confessed to you that I never stopped thinking about you and loving you. How I wished we never broke up and at least tried to make it work. And then I boldly kissed you while expecting you to just slap me..”

“But I didn’t..”

“No, you didn’t.” He smiles. “Thank you for that by the way.”

“And since then we’ve been together.”

“I never want to be apart from you again.” He says. “I uh,” He clears his throat. “There’s a reason I asked you to meet me here.”

“The picnic wasn’t all of it?” You ask.

He shakes his head. Leaning over towards the basket, you watch him as he fishes inside for something. “I swear if I forgot it..”

“Forgot what, Jake?” You say with a hint of a giggle.

“Aha!” He exclaims and retracting his hand from the basket.

A soft gasp falls from your mouth when you spot a little black box in his hand. “Jake..”

“I’ve been itching to do this for months now but none of the times I thought I wanted to do it felt right. I wanted to make this special. Just the two of us, alone.”

He pops open the box and there, cushioned inside is the ring you’ve dreamed of having. One that you texted him a photo of after he had asked what you would if he ever did propose. You knew this was happening, it was just the matter of when was what you didn’t know.

“I won’t go into a full speech because you know all there is to know about my love for you. So..” He takes a deep breath before continuing. “Under this tree, our tree, will you accept this ring and join me in making even more memories here? I want you with me forever, on every journey.”

You never speak a word. Instead you’re throwing your arms around his neck, tackling him backwards onto the blanket. His laughter rings in your ears as his arms catch you.

“I take that as yes?” He questions.

“Yes, yes, yes.” You say before kissing him.

He pulls his arms back and takes the ring out of the box. “May I?”

“Uh duh..” You say, giving him your hand.

He chuckles and slips the ring on your finger. “Right where it should always be.” He breathes.

You smile and lean down to kiss him. “You know the one thing we haven’t done under this tree?” You ask when you pull your lips apart.

“No?” He says with his eyebrows creased together. Then they smooth out and raise high on his forehead. “Oh.. You naughty girl. What if someone sees us?”

“Says the man who fucked me on the hotel balcony in Brazil.”

He chuckles and moves his hands down to squeeze your ass as he pushes his hips up against yours. “That was a wild night.” He says.

“Yes well, this time it won’t be wild,” You say. “I want to make love to you, Jacob. Take our time–really make this tree ours.”

All wrapped up the blankets, he takes his time with you. Nothing rushed, no need to reach the end. He thrusts in you at a slow pace. One arm rests beside your head while the other holds your leg around his hip.

He leans down to kiss you as he entangles his hand with yours.

“Jake..” You whisper.

“Mmhmm?”

“Go faster.”

“Don’t want to take our time?”

You shake your head. “Fuck Jake, I really need you.”

He smiles and kisses you again before picking up his speed. The friction sending both of you closer to your climax. He leans down and peppers your jaw with kisses as his hips snap in you relentlessly.

“Baby.. I need to..” His voice trails off and he bites his lip. “Fuck.. I can’t..”

He reaches between the two of you and rubs his thumb over your clit. Your back arches into him as you moan. “Fuck Jake..”

“Come with me baby..”

With a few more thrusts he’s empty inside of you as you cover him. “Oh god, oh fuck..” He mutters, dropping his head on your shoulder. Soon he pulls out of you and rolls onto his back to lay beside you before he drags you over. You rest your head against his chest as he runs his fingers through your hair. “If I’m being honest,” He says after a few minutes. “Any memory we make here after this, won’t ever be able to top it.”

You giggle and pick up your head to look at him. “You think so?”

“I know so,” He chuckles. “We’ve held hands under this tree, we’ve kissed under this tree, and got engaged. But sex? I really can’t think of anything that could top that.”

“So you’re saying our engagement isn’t the best thing to happen here?”

You go to sit up but he quickly pulls you back down and holds you tightly. “No.. No.. I didn’t say that.” He says. “Our engagement was special and I’ll be thinking about it forever.”

“Mmhmm..”

He laughs and you sit back up. “Well.. Maybe I can think of one more thing that might make this place memorable.”

“Oh yeah? What would that be?”

“The best blow job you’ve ever had.” You say raising your eyebrows.

“Oh?”

You smile before sliding down his body and beneath the covers.

“Oh..” He moans when he feels your mouth wrapping around his cock. His back arches and his hand grip at the blanket beneath him. “Oh fuck..”

Everything good happens beneath the old oak tree.

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