#or any of the ones I mentioned together…I’m waiting for stranger things to end first

[faerievampling]

Miracle - Part 2

Summary: Astarion asks a pregnant Tav to marry him and settle down for a bit. Can be read as a stand alone story!

Word count: 2.1k

Pairing: Spawn!Astarion x F!Tav / Reader

Link to Part 1

Link to Ao3

My Masterlist

Warnings: 18+! Explicit! Astarion being a perv for pregnant Tav! Pregnancy kink. Breeding kink. PiV. Vaginal fingering. Cunnilingus. Body worship. Panty sniffing. Mention of body changes, symptoms of pregnancy.

A/N: Do y'all want more of these two? because I have more. I hope you enjoy!

You and your beloved continue to travel and work. Despite being expert adventures, you both had decided on taking low risk journeys and dealings. You were lucky to have found an enchanted ring long ago, one that allowed your vampire to walk in the sun, so there was no disruption to your living schedule.

Astarion insisted that you take it easy, and had even wanted you to stop traveling altogether, but he could only get you to acquiesce to directly participating in battles.

But you were starting to get rather big, and you weren’t so quick or nimble as you once were. The extra weight was daunting on you.

You are nearing the end of your pregnancy, now.

“Darling, you know I’m not one for…tradition, or convention, or any of that,” Astarion said one day as he massages your swollen hands. You were propped up in bed, your legs draped over Astarion's lap as he sat upright, working the fluids out with his strong digits. It was hard work, growing a baby, and strange things happened, like swollen hands. “But, I was reading something the other day…”

“Oh?”

“In one of my romance novels…you know the ones,” Astarion admits coyly, and you smile, nodding because he had shared this guilty pleasure with you before. “In one of them, the love interest wanted the mother of his child to share the same surname as their offspring. And he, the love interest, wanted to also share…this last name with them.”

You raise an eyebrow.

“What do you think of that?” Astarion inquires coquettishly, turning on an almost boyish, shy charm that makes your heart swoon.

“I think it’s romantic. The love interest wants his family united, and I think that’s lovely,” You say. “What do you think about it, Astarion?”

“I think I want that. With you.” Astarion turns your hand in his, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “I don’t care to do it traditionally, I just want you to be mine. I’ve already talked to Wyll.”

Astarion moves your legs off his lap onto the bed, moving for his things across your suite. The two of you were quite wealthy at this point, and had found a lovely little inn to stay in outside of Athkatla, the capital of Amn.

Astarion produces an envelope, pulling out the papers inside before handing them over to you. Astarion, not having the patience for you to actually look them over, tells you that it is the paperwork for an annulment of his death certificate, an official acknowledgement of the destruction of a previous marriage, and a marriage license –

“Wait a minute,” You stop him.

Astarion has an ‘I’ve been caught’ look on his face. “Ugh, I had hoped you’d just ignore that part I sandwiched in there.”

You knit your eyebrows together, shaking your head at him. “I’m no stranger to your ‘sandwich’ tactics, Astarion,” You quip back. “A previous marriage?”

“One that I have no memory of and was contractually destroyed upon my first death. Now that I’m legally alive again, and they are still alive, it’s just to acknowledge that marriage is no longer legitimate, so that our marriage is.”

“Oh,” You say, digesting these two things at once; Astarion had an ex-husband or wife, and he was asking you to marry him right now.

“I figured we could go back to Baldur’s Gate for a while, get Wyll’s stamp of approval, and there was that midwife Shadowheart suggested to us…” Astarion trailed off, his mind wandering at all the things there was to do. “You should probably get a check up. It's been a while, darling, and my 'inspections' of you are hardly medical in nature.”

You give him a gentle smack on the shoulder, prompting a handsome smirk from him before you narrow your eyes at him. You knew he was going to tell you that now was the time to settle down. You knew it was coming.

“Don’t look at me like that. Not after what I’ve just asked of you.” His rounded eyes look away from you, like he’s embarrassed.

You change your tune, realizing you’re being a jackass. You ease yourself out of bed, Astarion rushing to help you. You take his arm, and once on your feet, you place your hands on his chest, looking up at him as he looks away from your cleavage, meeting your gaze.

“Astarion, of course I’ll marry you,” You say with a smile, bringing him into a tender kiss. Astarion cups your cheek with one hand and a breast with another: he has become rather obsessed with them lately.

“I guess I’m just not ready for our grand adventure to end.” You explain, tears in your eyes as you think about all the change that’s to come.

Astarion cradles you closer. “My love, this is just the start of a new adventure. And let’s be reasonable, we both know you’re terribly uncomfortable with all the traveling. Don’t you want to just rest your tired, but very sexy body for the last part of your pregnancy, my darling?”

You couldn’t help but agree.

He’s being cheeky, trying to hide the tears that have welled up in his eyes. Astarion has never known family. He couldn’t fathom having a wife, nonetheless a pregnant one. But here he was, with the object of his desire in his arms.

“I love you so much, Tav. I just want you and our child to be safe.” Astarion says. “Baldur’s Gate is the safest place for us. All of our friends are there, we have ample protection and resources – don’t make me beg.”

You’re back in Baldur’s Gate before you know it.

———

The night you arrive, you and Astarion stay at Jaheira’s house; the two of you are utterly exhausted from your travels, and you collapse in bed.

Astarion watches as you lie on your side, trying to find a pillow to place beneath your large, aching belly. Realizing how little options you had, Astarion lies beside you, snaking his hand beneath your belly.

“Ah,” You say in relief, earning a smile from Astarion, who just wanted you to be comfortable. He had seen how hard your pregnancy had been.

“I guess it’s alright if you use my pillow, darling. I wouldn’t be opposed to staying just like this, though.” Astarion’s voice is light and gentle, the smoothness filing your ears in a pleasurable way. “We have a long day tomorrow. We’ll likely be at the courthouse all day…”

Astarion shivers at the thought, giving a dramatic sigh, making you laugh.

“Could you imagine going back to that? Being a magistrate? Spending all day in the courtroom settling legal disputes and passing ‘Astarion approved’ laws?” You smile over your shoulder at him; a perfect opportunity to steal a sweet kiss, Astarion plants one on your cheek as he chuckles.

“No, certainly not. I love being an adventurer with you.” Astarion places another kiss on you, this time to your neck. “But I may have to find something to do in the meantime while our little one is…well, little.”

“What do you have in mind?” You ask as you intertwine your fingers with his, the warmth in your chest nearly bringing tears to your eyes.

“I’ve got a few options. You know that Jaheira wants me to help her recruit more Harpers in the city, but that sounds like far more trouble than it’s worth. Maybe I’ll work in the city with Wyll, continuing to help with the various outreach programs he's implemented as Duke," Astarion explains as he listens to the beating of the hearts of both his child and his beloved.

He can tell once you've fallen asleep, but he keeps talking, because he can feel the fluttering in your stomach as his child responds to his voice.

It takes everything in him not to choke up.

---

The next day, you try look as beautiful and bridal as you can being so heavily pregnant. But today was the day you’d become an Ancunín, and you wanted to look nice.

“A pregnant bride is so very scandalous,” Astarion teased as he watched you dress. Your husband-to-be was a bit of a peeping tom.

Astarion picks up last nights panties you discarded on the floor.

“Tsk tsk. You can’t be so messy, my wife.” Astarion was testing the word on his tongue, bringing the fabric that absorbed your carnal scent to his nose, inhaling as he gazed at you devilishly.

You blush, rolling your eyes at him as you slip on a new pair, but Astarion stops you, beckoning you to him.

Astarion sits on the edge of your bed, bringing your body between his thighs as his pretty lips circle the tip of your breast, gently suckling your nipple as he flicks his tongue against you.

“So sensitive…” You moan, but you make no motion to move away, so Astarion doesn’t stop.

“Mmm,” He moans back, his hand moving from the curve of your belly to your slick mound, which was also increasingly sensitive as you got further in your pregnancy.

Astarion tenderly massages the folds of your cunt, easing a finger between your walls as he brings his thumb to caress your swollen clitoris, the very one that he was dreaming of devouring with his tongue after he gave your gorgeous breasts the proper attention they deserved, of course.

Astarion loved you like this. Swollen with his child, evidence of being filled to the brim with his come. His sensitive nose could smell your ‘baby’ hormones that made your skin glow, made your hair thick and shiny.

It made him ravenous. You were absolutely gorgeous to Astarion.

He couldn’t even believe it, really. It had been nearly seven months since the two of you found out, seven months of adventuring, of watching your body change, and it awakened something within him.

Although you often complained how swollen you felt, Astarion loved the way you looked: your nipples and labia puffy, clit engorged, your ringed muscle puckered, your stomach rounded and full.

Not to mention how desperate you were for him; you quivered under his every touch. You were just so responsive, so sensitive, like your every nerve was on fire for him; he couldn’t help but indulge you whenever possible. He just wanted to touch you, to watch you squirm, to look at your body and know that you, your womb, is his.

Astarion stands up and gently pushes your back against a wall as he moves to get on his knees, lifting a thigh up and to the side as he kisses down your inflated stomach.

Reaching up to take a breast in his hand, Astarion brings his mouth to your center, engaging your core with his lips. He brings your folds into his mouth, sucking and caressing your sex with his tongue.

He just wants to worship your body. He needs just a taste of you, of your depths, and he plunges his tongue between your folds, gathering your juices on his lips before focusing on that sensitive bundle of nerves at the top of your mound.

You’re delicious, beautiful and maternal, pliant in his hands as he reaches two fingers into your depths, reaching behind your clitoris to rub your spongey walls. His motions have you seeing white, causing your breasts to heave and bounce as your body clenches around his dexterous fingers.

He loves the way you drag your fingers through his hair; feeling your nails on his scalp sends shivers throughout his body.

Astarion pulls away as you come undone, watching as you writhe above him. Astarion is fully holding you up with his strong hands, making him feel like quite the family man at this moment, physically carrying both his bride and his child in his hands.

He still can’t believe this.

Astarion brings the both of you to the bed, stripping his clothes off as you get comfortable, maneuvering yourself for his entry.

Being so large, you couldn’t lie on your back anymore, and riding him was far too difficult, so you opted to bend yourself over, putting pillows beneath you in all the right places to ensure your comfort.

Astarion moans at the sight of you exposing yourself to him.

“Fucking yes, my love. You’re so beautiful, Tav.” Astarion grasps his wet cock. He’s dripping with so much pre-cum that he’s almost surprised, and he uses it to wet his member, which so desperately needs to be inside of you. "If I could just keep you like this forever..."

Astarion pulls back his foreskin with his thrusting motions, moving the skin up and down his shaft, groaning as he admires you.

Parting your folds with his finger and thumb, Astarion lines himself up with your entrance before enveloping himself into your warmth, earning a gasp from him at the sensation.

“Gods, you feel even tighter, Tav, with my child in you…” Astarion drifts off, the squelching and slapping of skin on skin making him entirely forget himself.

Astarion felt your waves of pleasure wash over you as you coiled around the base of his cock. With two fingers, Astarion massages that sweet button of yours, causing you to gush even harder around him, your orgasm evident in your entire being: you cried his name as you convulsed around him, giving him your milky come.

Astarion followed soon after, releasing his seed deep inside you as he spoke a love confession in your ear. Careful not to collapse on top of you, Astarion rolled over, giving you space to catch your breath.

Your muscles were already exhausted, fatigued from pregnancy and your spasming muscles. Astarion starts to mindlessly rub your back as you lay on your side, giggling as he draws you into his chest.

“Well, now I’ve got to fix myself,” You say, moving to stand before Astarion pulls you back into him.

“Maybe you should go just like this. Full belly, looking freshly fucked and used by your husband-to-be.” Astarion kisses your cheek, nuzzling his nose into your face as he does.

“Ha. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” You giggle as your beloved finally releases you. Once you’ve fixed your makeup and properly dressed yourselves, the two of you walk out into the streets of Baldur’s Gate, hand in hand.

A few hours later, you would be known as Tav Ancunín, and your stomach leapt with joy at the thought. It wouldn’t be long, now.

Masterlist

[websterss]

COMING BACK (1) — ETHAN LANDRY

REQUEST: I have a really good fic idea! would u mind taking mine? If you have watched the Netflix series “you” then this request might seem familiar. Basically Ethan is about to stab Y/n but she quickly says she is pregnant then you can do whatever you want to.

WARNING(S): angst, mentions of dying, mentions of pregnancy, 

WORD COUNT: 1,655

PAIRING: Ethan Landry x fem!Reader    

A/N: Hope you enjoy it love! Feedback is always welcomed!

MASTERLIST

PART 2: HAPPY ENDING / SAD ENDING

Fear struck every part of your body as you ran for your life. The old shrine of Ghostface trinkets and souvenirs like knives and wardrobes mocked you as you ran by the mannequins and display cases. You wouldn’t have imagined you’d be right where you were on this unlucky day. What should have been a fresh start after being almost butchered by Amber and Sam’s boyfriend Richie, well you didn’t expect to fight for your life once again, especially while at college.

You wanted a new year, a chance to leave all that was, behind you and move forward with your head held high. You wanted to fall in love…which you had. Now even that was ruined as you ran from the one person you let in. Someone you let love and cherish you in any way possible. Let him put you back together only to break you in pieces all over again. It just didn’t seem fair.

You yell out, panicking as you felt him grab you. You squirmed and wiggled in his grasp, kicking your feet out in the air as he lifted you up slightly then slammed you harshly on the ground. You gasp for air as you grow winded from the impact your back endured. You shake your head as the man you once knew became a stranger to you in mere seconds. You were scared as he stares down at you with a crazed look.

“No!” You scream as you push against his chest. “Ethan no, please!” You rasp out. Tears blind sight you, causing your vision to be blurry.

He smirks lifting a knife above you. “Remember this?” He asks. “My dad got a hold of your file you know. I knew the second I read about you that I wanted to get to know you.” He reached down and brushed some stray hairs away from your hot and sweaty forehead. Your chest rises and falls rapidly. “You were stabbed right here…” He lifts the hem of your shirt, tapping against the scar you received. “With a blade, three times might I add. God the picture they took looked nasty, but boy am I a sucker for recreations.” He chuckles darkly. “What’s three more times huh?” He goes to move the knife closer to your side.

You start to panic again as he moves his right arm to the side, getting ready to drive it past your first layer of skin. You cry holding your hands out, hoping that would be enough to stop him from hurting you physically. You were emotionally damaged by this point. “Ethan stop! Stop, stop! Stop!”

“This is for Richie, for your bitch of friend Sam for killing him! For ruining our lives!” He exclaims harshly at you. You wince, then immediately blurt out the one thing you have been excited to tell him, yet scared to do. Now it just made this whole situation worse.

“Ethan-“ You cry out.

“I should have killed you-“

“I’m pregnant!” You yell out. Your head thumping back against the hard floor. Your hands gravitate towards your stomach holding it protectively. Your face was scrunched with how hard you cried. It hurt, everything just hurt. Ethan's hands freeze in midair. Dumbfounded by your confession. “Stop, stop, stop. I-I’m pregnant!”

“You’re fucking lying!” He accuses you.

“I-I’m not…I’m not I promise!” You shake your head. “Please! Please I’m pregnant!” One hand remains on your stomach while your left hand tiredly falls limp to your side. You relax back onto the floor, waiting for the inevitable to come. Waiting to meet your end at the hands of the man you grew to love with your whole heart.

“Look at me,” Ethan instructs you to do. Your eyes open up slowly. The life drained from them as you stare up at him. The fight in you was gone. You didn’t wanna keep doing this anymore. “No, I–“ He shakes his head. He can’t wrap his head around it. His brows burrow in confusion. “Y-You’re lying!” He tears up.

“I promise you…” Another tear slips down your cheek. “I promise. I wanted to tell you…but everything turned to shit. I didn’t think you’d be one of them…” You sniffle. “It was a little over two weeks before we attended the Halloween party. You took us to your dorm.” You watch his face relax as he remembers. “I-I didn’t get my period at the time of the party when I should have…so I took a test. Three actually. All positive….” You begin to whimper as you look at the knife he’s lost his grip on. “You can go ahead and kill me if that’s what you want, I won’t be mad at you.” You offer a sad smile. “But I would’ve really liked the idea of us raising a kid together. I wanted a future you with you. I still do surprisingly.” You nod sure of yourself. “I-I won’t be mad. I’m at peace with my thoughts of you Ethan.” Ethan watched as your right hand slid down to your side this time. “M-My life rests in your hands now…”

The faint scream of the rest of the party echoed throughout the theater. He lifts his head looks around then drags you up into a sitting position with him.

“I’m gonna hide you.” He says more to himself than you as he helps you to your feet. It doesn’t take him long until he’s dragging you past the display cases. Pushing past the large screen protector sheet. You stumble over your feet trying to keep up with his pace.

“Ethan, what are you doing?” You ask him. Your head falls past your shoulder to glance behind you. You look forward again and collide into his back, you huff then feel yourself being dragged into a dark supply closet.

“Hiding you!” Ethan shuts the door behind you. The two of you are enveloped by darkness. The only light coming from the bottom of the door. Your breath hitches as a shadow moves past the door. You remain still as Ethan slowly reaches out for you. You still have your fingers looking around his own as you shift closer to each other.

You swallow your salvia down nervously as his hands shift up your arms to hold the sides of your face. Your breath shudders feeling him caress your skin slowly with his thumbs. You close your eyes as you lean into his touch. You open them back up, seeing a very faint outline of his face but the room was too dark, and turning on the light would be too risky. You had to rely on your sense of touch for now.

“Stay…” You quietly plead. “Just stay. Don’t go back out there.” You slide your hands up his arms now.

“I can’t…My dad, Quinn, they’ll know somethings up.” Ethan shakes his head even though you can’t see him do so. He leans forward and presses his head against yours. “I need you to stay in here okay? Don’t come out no matter what.”

“No–“ You begin to reject the idea.

“You need to stay.”

“No, you need to stay. Just stay.” You do your best to muffle your cries. “I have this feeling. I just feel it, okay! Once you step out the door, you won’t come back. I need you! Don’t leave me!” You breathe out harshly. “Please…” You whimper as he presses his lips to yours. You instantly move yours against his. Wanting to savor the touch of him, the feel of his skin against your fingertips, the way his hands held you with such care. You wanted it all to last, but when did anything good in your life ever truly last? The harsh reality was that it didn’t. Everything was always too good to be true. “Ethan no…” You pull away, crying out quietly. You wrap your hands around his neck, bringing his head down to touch yours.

“I’ll be back.”

“No, you won’t.” You try to control your heavy breathing.

“I will. You wanna know how I know I will.” You nod an answer. “Cause you given me something to want to stay alive for.” You feel his hands slide over your stomach. “I’m gonna be right back.” He whispers sweetly to you.

“They’re gonna kill you.” You voice your thoughts.

“Not unless I help Sam kill my dad.”

“She’ll still kill you. You stabbed Chad.” You remind him.

“Not anywhere serious. I didn’t hit any arteries or veins. He’s gonna be fine.” He brushed the thought off.

“You– You knew where to stab him?” Your voice goes quiet but sounds incredulous.

“I knew how to make you unconscious at the apartment…S’not important.” He winces, regretting opening his mouth.

“What the fuck Ethan!” You slap him over his shoulder. Your heart weighed down heavily. “God Anika…She didn’t deserve-“ You choke up, cutting yourself off. “What the fuck Ethan.”

“Nothing will fix what I’ve done okay? But I can make things right by saving them. It’s the least I can do now.” He sighs. “Just stay here. Do not come out!” He says firmly.

“If you don’t come back I’m gonna kill you…” Your empty threat makes him chuckle solemnly.

“See you in a bit okay.”

“Ethan.” Your voice trembles.

“I’ll be back. Promise.” He leans in after feeling for your cheek again with his hands and leaves a kiss on your skin sweetly. He slowly opens the door. The faint light entered through, casting a yellow highlight on his face. You catch his warm eyes for a second. He drinks in all the little details and characteristics that make you who you are. That makes him love you wholeheartedly. “I love you.” He offers a sad smile then slips past the open gap. The soft click of the door closing behind him felt like a gunshot to the chest. You just knew. You knew…he wouldn’t be coming back.

[chxrrysangel]

Conflict of Interest

Pairing | Plug!Choso x fem!reader

Words | schmedium

Summary | Choso never quite does his intended job when you meet. Special treatment is what they call it, not that he’d outright admit to it. One day, you request his services outside of your normal routine. And things get, well, complicated.

Tags | 🍃, hotboxing, car sex, dub con (both parties are under the influence), overstimulation, kinda dom! Choso, no protection, praise kink, no use of y/n, overstimulation, creampie

Notes | I’ve had this in my drafts for so fucking long that I was getting sick and tired of going back to it instead of just posting. Overthinking is an understatement. (I’ll probably end up editing it again later)

You called up Choso a week early, stressed out of your fucking mind. It seemed like any problem the universe could throw at you, it did. You watched with anxious fingers tapping against the steering wheel as his deep blue car rolled into the empty parking lot. An abandoned mall is easily the best place for your exchanges, you both liked it that way.

He had his hair down today, catching you off guard for a moment. It’s not the first time he’s done it, but the stark contrast to his usual hairstyle was always surprising.

“Miss me?”, he asked with a smile as he closed the distance. You scoff and chuckle.

“I miss what’s in your bag. You’re not that special Kamo.”

“Oh but I am. We both know it.” He didn’t mention the break in routine, knowing it was probably something personal. You didn’t share much with one another, choosing the “basically strangers” dynamic to be a smarter option. But that doesn’t mean you didn’t break the agreement every once in a while. Even as he stands before the hood of your Jeep Grand Cherokee, your eyes can’t help but glance down at his playful smile when he talks or the movement of his fingers while he rolls. Your breath caught in your throat as he brought the paper to his lips, tongue flattening against its edge. Brown eyes glinted with mischief as they made contact with yours, a hum of satisfaction leaving his lips at catching you in the act. God if the earth could just open up and swallow me, that’d be great.

“Wanna smoke with me today?” You snapped out of your daze of distractions at the question, disbelief washing over your features.

“Really?” The large man shrugged, in a why not kind of way. How could you say no?

~~

Choso could taste the berry in your gloss as his lips wrapped around the blunt, inhaling the strain and feeling his chest grow warmer. It hadn’t been long, but the windows of Choso’s car had already begun to fog, despite the cracked windows.

That’s how you two spent the next hour, sharing two blunts and chatting together as your high began to wash over.

“Fuck, that’s strong.”

“Isn’t it?,” you softly whisper, head lolling towards him.

The two of you talk about anything and everything, minds expanding to limits you hadn’t even realized existed. Somehow the conversation drifted to the more personal aspects of your lives, such as your romantic lives.

“You’ve got a boyfriend?,” Choso whispered across the dash. You shook your head, waiting for his next question.

“Girlfriend?”

“If I didn’t know any better Kamo, I’d think you wanna date me.”

“God you fucking wish. Just curious.” Sometimes, you did wish. Not that he could ever know that.

“What about you, smartass. Dating anyone?”

“Nah, don’t have time for that.”

The car developed into a comfortable silence, neither of you feeling eagering to speak. It was like this with Choso, always has been. He understood the need for shutting up sometimes, no unnecessary pressure to converse.

“I think I need a haircut.” His random outburst prompted a barking laugh, caught off guard by the irrelevancy.

“I’m serious. It’s getting too long.” You looked over at him,pouting. You liked his hair, in fact you loved it. When he hung his head, the layers encased his face like a halo. It was the perfect haircut, not that you could really say so. Any allusion to your thoughts could ruin everything. So you settle for something simple.

“I like your hair.”

“Yeah?, he questions with a head tilt. You murmured a hum of agreement, leaning over the console to put a hand towards his face.

“I think your bangs could use a little trim though,” you remarked with a ruffle of his hair. You began to pull away a few seconds too late, eyes settling on his features and feeling yourself get too caught up. Choso’s eyes caught yours, grabbing your wrist to keep you close.

“Willing to cut it for me?” His eyes flickered across your features, analyzing them with an intensity you’ve never seen in him before. It was unnerving.

You nodded, swallowing a large gulp of nerves.

You sat outstretched over the console, not making any attempt to sit back properly on your side. He broke the silence before you could consider a regrettable choice, going on about munchies and making you laugh. That comment is what led to your current argument on the best type of cake as you unwrapped a cupcake in your hands.

“It’s very easily vanilla,” he argued, “it’s the most versatile option.” You scoff mid-bite.

“Didn’t know you were so boring, Kamo.” He looked offended at your comment, putting a hand on his chest like it hurt.

“Oh yeah? What’s your favorite then?”

“Red velvet. Hence why all of them are on my side of the tray.”

“You think you’re so special, picking red velvet over all the other options,” he teased.

“I know I’m special,” you mocked. Something shifted in the air when you said that, Choso growing quiet with no comeback prepared. The tension was so thick, you could cut it with a knife.

“You uh…you got something,” he whispered distractedly while leaning in. His thumb wiped at the corner of your mouth, dark eyes staring into yours. You watched as time slowed, his thumb reaching up to his lips and sucking.

“Frosting.” The two of you just stared at one another, high out of your minds and scared to breathe. Instinctively, you glance at his blush lips, not even remotely afraid that he would notice. His tongue darted out between the folds, covering the surface in spit and you nearly moaned.

“Fuck me,” you whispered to yourself, almost in pain.

He leans farther over the center console, putting a hand on your neck. Nothing was said as you stared into his eyes, bouncing back and forth between his irises as he wrestled with his thoughts. You leaned in , the gap between your lips just barely a sliver. You could kiss him easily, that much was obvious. But fear made you hesitate, breath fanning across his cheeks in anticipation of the next move.

“Choso,” you whispered in a barely audible tone.

“Don't talk,” he said before making the brave choice.

His lips capture yours, hesitant but curious. It takes a moment to find rhythm but soon you’re moaning softly into his mouth and gripping onto his arm for dear life. Choso was a good kisser, the soft muscle of his tongue bullying its way past your lips as he explored your mouth. He broke the kiss, staring at you with need. His lips were glossy with spit, pupils massive with lust.

“Back seat. Now.” You didn’t need to be told twice.

You watched as he impatiently pushed the seats forward, as far as the mechanism would allow.. He climbed into the backseat, a boyish smile adorning his features that you’ve adored from your first meeting.

“Choso, need you.”

He manhandles your body, grabbing your thighs to guide you into his lap.

Choso pushed your hips down on his crotch, your clit grinding against his rough zipper with earnestness. His plush lips peppered kisses down your neck and collarbone, smiling into your skin at the thought of seeing all this tomorrow. The two of you had crossed the line of friendship and he was quite intent on never going back now he’s gotten a taste. You whimpered, as though on the verge of tears, desperate for relief from the throbbing of your cunt.

“Oh, that’s cute.”

“Shut up. Not funny,” you retorted.

“Whatever you say sweetheart.” He thrust upwards, the outline of his erection rubbing so perfectly against your clit. A pathetically desperate whimper slips out, and he chuckles.

“I know baby, I know.” Choso continues to mark you, his featherlight touch on your skin sending tingles up your spine.

~~~

Had he not pushed his seat back, your ass would be pressing uncomfortably into the leather right now. Choso’s hands engulfed your hips, guiding you on his cock with every thrust. Your skin buzzed with the effects of indica, hot with desire as he fucked your brains out.

“Shit, Cho. So fuckin—ngh—good.” You whined into his neck, trying to muffle your sounds.

A chuckle reverberated through his body, dark with knowing.

“Don’t hide those pretty moans from me, baby. Wanna hear you.”

You leaned back, coming face to face with Choso. He was so pretty like this, a light sheen of sweat making his bangs stick to his skin in a pleasured bliss. Your pussy squeezed around his shaft, making him whine with need.

“Fuck that’s good,” he cried. Watching you bounce was like nothing he’d ever had the pleasure of seeing.

Just then, an idea formed in his mind. Choso angled his hips more upward, hitting your g-spot and pulling a pleasured sob from your lips. He watched with satisfaction as your eyes crossed for a moment, going dumb before his eyes. The glossed out look said everything, too lost in the pleasure to be remotely coherent.

“Feel good, pretty girl?” You could barely whimper out an affirmation, feeling your impending orgasm. You mewled incoherently, a jumble of curses and praise. With a shaking hand, you rubbed your clit as your stomach began to tighten in need for release.

“Right there baby. Fuck don’t stop don’t stop.”

Choso pushed off his own orgasm, wanting to watch you make a mess on his dick first. He grinned, taking in your fucked out state with great pleasure. The little you had shared with each other revealed that your sexual experience with men had been rather disappointing. Your last ex had no clue how to please you, too concerned with his own orgasm to ever worry about yours. He was selfish in that way, as well as many others.

He grabbed your hair, pulling you down in a sloppy kiss. If it wasn’t for how well he fucked, this kiss alone was enough to make your head spin. Your body felt miles away, the combination of the thc and the best fuck of your life making your skin tingle.

Your limbs began to tense, signals of how close you were. Your vision was blurry, teeth searing into your bottom lip with focus.

Choso felt your walls grow tighter, filling his chest with pride. He maintained his pace, pushing harder with each thrust. Your nails dug deep into the hard skin of his shoulders, imprinting moon-shaped marks.

“Close aren’t you?”

“So fucking close baby”. You stumbled over your response, struggling to say every syllable.

With a few more thrusts, your toes curled as you came. The squelching sounds in the car increased tenfold, a sound Choso was eager to revel in. He fucked you through your orgasm, thrusting getting sloppier by the second. His balls tightened, body buzzing as he fucked his cum into you. Before you could say anything, he didn’t stop. His mouth formed into an O, tip extremely sensitive.

“I think I can get one more out of you.”

A statement that felt more like a demand.

You began to shake your head, feeling the creeping discomfort of overstimulation begin to course through your shaking body.

He whispered sweet praises as you squirmed. Your body wasn’t sure of whether to lean into his touch or pull away, confused but pulsing with need. Your cunt choked his shaft, tense as you pushed through the masochistic pain. But soon enough that pain turned into pleasure, attempting to meet his thrusts to chase your orgasm.

He grinned with knowing, cheeky like a cat who got the cream.

“Shut up,” you uttered between gasps. He winked, satisfied with his clear victory. Even during the most intimate moments, he couldn’t help but be his usual annoying self

“Gonna cum Cho.” You whispered into his neck.

“Fuck. Can feel it. Doing so well for me, baby.”

His praise made you squeeze harder around him. Now that he’s had a taste, he’s unsure of how he’ll be able to let you go. Every touch, every look, every smile led up to this moment.

Every muscle in your body tenses as you cum, ears ringing as Choso praises you. His thumb rubs your clit in firm circles, the pleasure making your walls spasm around his sensitive cock.

“That’s it baby, doing so fucking good.” Choso slurred his words, head sensitive as he continued to fuck you through your orgasm. The base of his spine tingled, pushing him back towards the edge again. He blabbered incoherently as you came down, mumbling about how good your pussy is.

His hips stilled as he shot white ropes into you, filling your cunt with his warm seed. Your tired quick breaths as you gasped for air quickly faded into light laughter as you watched each other come down. Choso smiled lazily, dazed and completely out of it. With a delicate hand, he pushed some of your hair out of your face before pulling you in for another kiss. This one was much softer, gentle and unrushed. Romantic even.

“We just made things really complicated, didn’t we?,” you question against his lips. He didn’t answer really, murmuring in disagreement as he deepened the kiss.

“Choso! I’m serious”.

“So am I.”

[dixonsbrat]

𖥔 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓 𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐄 𖥔

summary ; your valentine’s day takes a turn when what you think is just a surprise from peter turns out to be a lot more than you bargained for.

pairing ; mcu!peter parker x fem!reader

notes ; fluff, some mentions of anxiety, but mostly just peter being an oblivious lil himbo baby! this is a repost from my old acc x

do not transfer, translate or share my work to any other sites.

with valentine’s day just around the corner, it was easy to find yourself paranoid about the entire holiday and what exactly it meant for you and peter. 

while for most people, it was a celebration of love and being able to embrace that, for you, it had become an anxiety-induced menace of a day that had you second-guessing everything.

the worst part of all was that you and peter technically weren’t together. 

yet, as the days grew closer and you continued to get your hopes up, it was hard not to feel disheartened when he hadn’t uttered a single word about it. leading you to wonder if he had even given it any thought or if you were simply just getting in over your head about the whole thing. 

to any stranger passing you by on the street and witnessing just how affectionate you were with each other, you looked like a couple. heck, you had even shared the occasional kiss, sometimes a little more, and on days when you would go to his apartment to study, it was never long before you’d find yourself snuggling in his bed while he tried to do homework over the top of you.

you never really cared to put a label on your situationship until now, and mostly because you didn’t think you had to. 

but when the day finally arrives and peter was yet to exhibit any efforts in the name of romance, you were devastated. 

“so, he really hasn’t said anything?” mj asks as you head to your locker, having just finished your last class of the day. 

“nope. not a word,” you shake your head.

with her brows furrowing into a scowl, mj exhales, “man, i really thought he would have. i mean… it’s peter. the dude is literally the biggest softie i have ever met.”

despite the sadness you were feeling, you couldn’t help but crack a smile at your best friend’s words. she was the only one that knew how strongly you felt for peter. 

after all, she was the one to point it out.

“i don’t know, maybe i’m just looking too much into it?” you lift your shoulders into a shrug at the same time you reach your locker. 

“well, speak of the devil,” mj gestures towards the end of the hallway where peter and ned had just rounded the corner. 

it only takes them a moment to catch sight of you, and when they do, peter beams with a smile and waves before heading in your direction. even as they passed by multiple girls carrying flowers and the various heart-shaped decorations scattered all over the halls, peter still hadn’t noticed.

“hey! ned and i were talking about going back to mine to study for that test we have coming up, and maybe watch a movie. you guys in?” he asks, tugging on the straps of his bag, completely ignorant to his surroundings. 

it was like he had forgotten about the holiday’s existence altogether, or he was actively trying to avoid it. but why?

“i can’t. i, uh, i actually have a date tonight,” mj says, tucking her hair behind her ear as all eyes turn in her direction. 

“wait, what? with who?” you ask, this being the first you were hearing about it. honestly, you were surprised she had even told you at all. 

shaking her head, she looks down at her feet and shrugs, “just this guy. it doesn’t matter. but, uh, y/n is free tonight so… there’s that.”

the second the words leave her lips, peter’s attention returns to you. and you weren’t entirely sure, but it almost looked like he was relieved that you had no plans. 

a small smile dangled on the corner of his mouth, and his deep brown eyes softened as they met yours. “oh, okay. well, uh, do you want to join us?” he sort of fumbles over his words. 

while it wasn’t exactly what you had imagined spending the most romantic day of the year with peter would be like, it beat having to sit at home alone wallowing in your own self-pity. even if it was with the person causing it… and ned.

you open your mouth to speak when you’re interrupted by ned’s phone.

“actually, change of plans,” he says. “it’s betty… and she wants to see a movie tonight.”

“i thought you two broke up?” mj narrows her eyes with confusion. 

“we did… but maybe she wants to get back together?” he turns to peter with hopeful eyes, and after a moment, the other boy gives him a nudge. 

“dude, go!” he laughs. and just like that, ned rushes down the hall in search of betty, leaving the three of you dumbfounded as you let out a chorus of chuckles. 

“on that note, i better get going too,” mj says once the laughter faded into sighs and points the same way ned had gone. “i’ll see you losers monday. have fun, studying.”

rolling your eyes, you wave goodbye to the girl, as the thought of being alone with peter all night creeps into your mind. 

the idea alone causes your heart to fasten, thrumming loudly in your ears as your mouth becomes dry with nerves. it wasn’t like you at all to be so anxious around peter, and so much so that you almost couldn’t think straight. he was typically the one person you went to when you needed things to slow down, not make them difficult. 

you try to play off the effect he was having on you as you close your locker and swing your bag over your shoulder, but the second your gaze meets his again, it only seems to amplify. 

“so, it looks like it’s just you and me,” he shuffles awkwardly on his feet, tightening his grip on his bag straps once more. 

“uh, yeah. looks like it.” you smile, swallowing the ball that had formed in your throat, and the two of you slowly head towards the exit. 

the walk back to his apartment is quiet at first, but the second peter starts talking about the chemistry assignment he had coming up, there was no stopping him. though, you couldn’t shake the feeling like he was purposely trying to prolong the walk. 

he insisted that you take the longer route, which you never do, and he even slowed down his pace through the park. and as you were passing the deli-grocery, he stopped off to buy you both a sandwich, which wasn’t completely out of the ordinary, but it did add another fifteen minutes to your time. 

it was like he didn’t want to get back to the apartment, like the thought of being fully alone with you was something he didn’t want to partake in. 

when you do finally reach the apartment, however, he fumbles to unlock the door and almost drops the keys in the process, but the second it’s open, you’re hesitant to even step inside. you had been there a million times before but this time, for whatever reason, felt different. 

you wondered if it really were such a good idea for you to be there, to be alone with him when he was clearly opposed to the idea. which was odd considering he had been the one to initiate you going over there in the first place.

“do you want a drink or anything?” he asks as he passes the kitchen to put his bag in his room. 

most days, you would follow him straight to his room, sometimes even beating him there, but with how he had been acting, it just didn’t feel right. so you lingered in the living room instead. 

at least, until he pops his head out of the door, and with a reassuring smile surfacing on his lips, he gestures for you to follow. 

“we’ve got water, juice or soda?” he asks as you enter the room, dropping his bag at the foot of his bed. 

“water is fine,” you nod. 

“okay, give me a sec,” he nods back, and having to cram past you to get out of the door, his hand runs down your arm so to not squish you. the touch immediately sends a pulse throughout your body, causing you to let out a small gasp. 

you were just grateful peter was far enough away that he hadn’t heard it, or if he did, he didn’t show it. 

with peter leaving you alone in his room, you take the chance to take it all in like you hadn’t been there before. you drop your bag beside his and slip out of your jacket before falling into a stupor on his bed. 

peter’s room had always been comforting to you, though, since the blip, it didn’t quite feel like it was his anymore. 

like everyone else that tragically disappeared, peter lost the majority of his belongings, as did you, but he no longer had any of his action figures or comic books. even the nerdy science posters that you would pick on him for, or his lego models - all the things that made peter’s room… his… was all gone. 

shaking away the thoughts, you bury yourself in the comfort of his sheets, letting your fingers dance across the cotton as you wait for him to return. but when you move to grab your phone from your jacket pocket, something in the corner of your eye catches your attention. 

it was the smallest glimmer of something red inside his closet, and the door was only open a crack, but it was enough to make your thoughts go wild. 

was it possible that peter had bought you something for valentine’s day and this whole thing was just a ruse to get you alone with him? were ned and mj in on it? or had he decided against it, thinking that maybe it was too much, and that’s why it was hidden away in his closet?

perhaps that was why he had been acting so strange and why he had been pretending like today was nothing but any other regular day?

however, before you get the chance to relieve your suspicions, peter walks back in with two glasses of water, and when he sees that you had already made yourself comfortable, he draws in his bottom lip as a nervous smile takes hold of his features. 

“something tells me you have absolutely no intention of studying,” he shakes his head. 

“something tells me you’re right.” you pat the spot beside you, and he obliges, pulling his laptop from the desk beside the bed and finding a movie for you both to watch. 

while you enjoyed laying with peter in comfortable silence, watching the film he had chosen, you couldn’t stop thinking about what was in his closet. the tiny sliver of red teasing you from between the slats, begging for you to confront it. 

nevertheless, it takes two hours for peter to finally leave the room again, and within that time, he hadn’t mentioned it at all. which only made you all the more curious. 

so the second he stepped out of the room, you set into motion to find out what it was he was hiding. and you knew you shouldn’t have, but not knowing was killing you, and you simply couldn’t help yourself. 

you tip-toe across the floor, avoiding the creaky spot in the middle, and after a deep breath, you slowly open the door. though, what you were expecting to be a heart-shaped balloon or a cute stuffed animal that said something like ‘be my valentine?’ on the front, was far from what you had imagined. 

instead, hanging on the metal rod was a suit. a suit that you would recognise absolutely anywhere with it’s distinct red and black colours, and who could forget the unmistakable mask with its intricate detailing. 

then it hits you, and a shiver of realisation rolls down your spine. 

setting out a gasp, you drop the suit to the floor and stumble back into the bed, knocking over a book in the process. you couldn’t believe what you had just discovered, and you barely get a moment to collect yourself before peter comes running to the door. 

“hey, are you-” he stops the second he sees the suit, his smile falling as he takes in your bewildered state and it transforms into a look of horror. 

“peter, i-”

“shit,” he exhales, cutting you off as he reaches for the material and throws it back into his closet as fast as he can, despite knowing that the damage was already done. “don’t look at that. that’s nothing. completely and totally nothing.”

“peter, was that - are you?” you try to get the words out, but you’re still in so much shock that it seems near impossible to do so.

“no. nope. It’s not…” he shakes his head rapidly, leaning against the closet now. “it was, uh, it was a gift from may. she knows i like superheroes, so, y'know?”

“peter…”

“it’s nothing, really. i promise. it was just a-”

“peter…”

“i was thinking of maybe even wearing it for halloween this year, what do you think? you could go as black widow, or umm, captain marvel?”

“peter!” this time when you say his name, he stops talking, realising that there was no way he was going to get out of this. and if he did, it would be a miracle. but you were smart, smart enough not to believe the nonsense that was pouring out of his mouth, and know that this was for real. 

his head falls with defeat, and he drags himself to sit beside you. the air was heavy now, filled with worry as he tried to choose his words carefully. there were only so many ways you could tell someone you had a secret identity being a superhero and he had wanted to do it perfectly - but most importantly, not like this. 

“look, i - i hated not being able to tell you but if everyone knew who i was then my life wouldn’t be the same anymore." 

"but, this is me we’re talking about peter. i’m the same person that knows you still wear star wars underwear, and that you secretly love it when i choose to watch twilight on movie night.” you sigh, shoulders slumping slightly. “you can tell me anything.”

his eyes soften at your remark, and the ghost of a smile tugs at the corner of his lips. “i know, but i wanted… i wanted to keep you safe. there are bad guys out there that would like to come after spider-man and you knowing who i am, only puts you in danger." 

"who else knows?" 

"may, ned and… mj.”

“mj?” you retort. 

“to be fair, i didn’t tell her. she worked it out herself and i swore her to secrecy so don’t be angry at her for not telling you.” he raises a finger to further prove his point. “i was actually planning on telling you about it tonight, but every time i thought about it, i got nervous and i couldn’t do it.”

“so that’s why you’ve been acting so weird?” you ask, nudging the boy’s shoulder playfully as relief washes over you. “and here i am thinking that it was me. the only reason i looked in your closet was because i… i thought… never mind it’s stupid.”

he chuckles, “no. you have to tell me now!”

you let your head fall back for a moment, and after letting out a deep breath, you sway your head back down. “okay. i saw the red through the cracks and i thought that maybe… it was a valentine’s day present. i know we never really put a label on… us… but i just, i don’t know, i thought that maybe that’s where we were and-”

your words turn into muffles as peter presses his lips to yours in a swift movement, and you’re taken back by his actions but you don’t push him off. your body feels electric and you kiss him back with a smile, sinking into it more before he pulls away. 

he doesn’t pull back much, and instead, rests his forehead against yours as you both try to catch your breath. your heart thumps in your chest and you’re still so close that you were sharing the same air. 

peter had kissed you many of times before, some of them turning into heated make-out sessions but this was different to any of those. this had purpose. 

“sorry, you were rambling and i couldn’t help myself.” a coy smile flashes across his face for a moment, before being replaced with a look of uncertainty. “was that enough for you to see how i feel about you? or would you rather i change my relationship status too? or i could just post to the entire world about how much i love you?”

upon hearing the words, you pull away and a shallow gasp escapes you. you weren’t sure if peter had meant to say it, but whether he did or not, it was out there now and your heart pangs inside your chest as your stomach fills with butterflies. 

“you love me?” you say between breaths and disbelief in your eyes. 

he lets out a nervous laugh as his cheeks redden, and his fingers play with the folds of his shirt. “i mean, yeah… you’re kinda my favourite person in existence. it’d be hard not to.”

“really?”

he nods and walks back over to the closet. “yeah. also if you had of looked in the other side of my closet you would’ve seen this…" 

you watch as he opens the closet door to reveal a beautiful bouquet of white and red flowers all wrapped up in bright red paper.

"i was going to give it to you when i told you about… y'know…” he widens his eyes. “but you sort of did that for me… plus, there was also this.”

this time he pulls out a small bag, something that you’d find at a jewellery store, and hands it to you. you look to him as though to be asking permission to open it, and he nods, gesturing for you to do so before leaning against his desk. 

“it’s not a lot, and i’ve been saving for a while now to get it for you, but if you don’t like it then we can exchange it or get something else…”

opening the bag, you find a small box with gold detailing around the sides. and when you open it, inside sits a bracelet decorated with charms, but the one in the middle, that you can’t really see unless you’re looking close enough is a 'p’.

after a moment of basking in the sentiment of it all, you lean back and give him a warm smile. 

“i love it,” you say, tears slowly starting to brim your eyes as your mouth involuntarily starts to crease. “and i love you.”

“yeah?” peter’s brows twitch, his eyes never leaving yours, and he lifts your palm to his lips for a feather-light kiss. he barely touches you, but it sets your skin alight. 

then all of your focus is on him as you stand to meet him, enveloping him in another kiss. hands moving along his chest to fall behind his neck as he wraps his own around your waist and holds you tight. pulling you as close to him as humanly possible. 

when you do finally pull apart, he clasps the bracelet around your wrist before you slide your fingers through his, savouring the warmth of his skin against yours. 

“so, since you have two identities does that mean i get double the love?” you let out a small chuckle and peter matches it. 

“i think i could manage that.” he says and places one more kiss on the tip of your nose. 

[exceptional-z]

zed necrodopolis x reader

this is an au where zombies were never allowed to go to human high school. so zed is aged up (though age is never mentioned so you can imagine whatever) but has never been on the other side of the barrier. i attempted not to use gendered language but i tend to write with fem!reader in mind.

also please ignore any inconsistent verb tenses. english is not my first language and verb tenses are literally the bane of my existence. + i wrote this in like an hour

your family didn’t have much money growing up, hence why you lived so close to the gate. real estate was cheap since no one wanted to live near the zombies. but it also meant you learnt how to save money in as many ways as you could.

seabrook was all about perfection. if a mattress was two years old, it was time to throw it out and buy a new one. if a bike had a single scratch, it was thrown into the dumpster. all of the old items deemed as ‘garbage’ were brought to a warehouse that was emptied around every two weeks. and this was your favourite place to be.

you sneak into the warehouse. it’s late at night and there’s never any security around. you’re immediately greeted with piles of furniture and clothing and trinkets that are too unique to fit into the seabrook aesthetic.

you start to rummage through with the plastic gloves you always wear just in case any bugs or mice decide that this is a perfect place to burrow. lost in thought, you don’t hear the creaky door open, but you do hear the sudden shout that erupted from behind you.

your heart nearly stops beating at the sudden noise and your head swivels around. the lighting isn’t great, and you can only make out the vague shape of the person blocking your only exit. he looks fairly lanky, and if you squint you could make out some of his features. he doesn’t look much older than you and he certainly doesn’t scream “imposing”. he’s taller than you, but maybe if you caught him off guard you could knock him out with one of the many heavy objects splayed around you.

“i was told no one ever came in here,” the boy says. fuck, his voice is attractive.

“they don’t. in the three years i’ve been doing this i’ve never run into anyone else.” you answer, obviously suspicious.

“i’m uh- i’m just looking for a gift for my little sister,” he explains, “it’s her birthday soon and she said she wanted a new bike but we can’t really afford it.”

you relax a little at his explanation, sharing that you’d gotten into the habit of coming here to rummage for things since your family also doesn’t have much money. “i could help you look if you’d like? and even if we can’t find a bike, there’s a ton of cool stuff you can find if you’re willing to dig.” you offer.

you can’t be sure, but you think he smiles as he answers. “i’ll take any help i can get. my friend eliza told me to try coming here to look, but honestly, i’m a bit overwhelmed.”

you talk and laugh together for what must be at least two hours. you don’t end up finding a bike, but you find an old cheerleader outfit that looks to be in perfect condition. you can’t imagine why anyone would throw it out unless it just didn’t fit anymore. the boy -who still doesn’t have a name- literally jumped up in joy when he saw you holding the skirt from the set, doing a little celebratory dance that should have been embarrassing but was somehow endearing. (that’s how you figured out his little sister was obsessed with cheer).

eventually you have to part ways; it’s getting into the early hours of the morning and you both need to be getting home. he’s halfway down the street when you realise you never shared names and you yell out, “wait!”

he stops and turns around, and you jog to catch up to him.

“what’s your name, stranger?” you ask, “just in case we run into each other again.”

he tells you his name is zed, and you tell him your name in return. for a few seconds the both of you just stand in the street, memorising each other’s faces until you look away, shaking off the thoughts of how attractive he is under the starlight.

(bonus: when zed gets home, all he can think about is you. he wonders if eliza would recognise your name, or if he would possibly run into you if he chose to go to school for once instead of always skipping. he wonders where you live in zombietown, since he doesn’t recognise you and is sure he would remember seeing someone as gorgeous are you. he spends the next few days wondering, and then is in for the shock of his life when he sees you through the fence that blocks off zombietown from seabrook and learns that you’re human.)

[fire-lizard-ro]

Ah yes. I've come to inquire about a certain blond fellow with the pretty eyes. Aventurine

So here's my bit. Reader is going through a break up with Aventurine and then they make up. I'm writing this while attention (females perspective)is playing in my mind. Maybe you could like incorporate it into the ask. Because I'm thinking in a way that the reader is trying to get Aventurines attention whilst keeping him at a distance. Sor of cat and mouse. And he's buying into it though he's much prefer without the sneakiness.

Also I hope this asks finds you in good spirits and a joyful mood. Caio.

Okay, okay- I have no clue what attention is. A song? I’m not good at this game help-

Anyways I will try my best.

Thank you sm for the ask. 🫶

I really do love this twinky little blond man and I’m happy to be writing about him.

It’s like two in the morning rn and I’m rambling here to distract myself from things. ANY!!! WAYS!!!

No gender is mentioned for the reader.

CW: exactly one (1) 2.1 spoiler (Aventurine’s real name- It’s at the very end), break up-make up time, mild angst bc ofc there is it’s Aventurine, hurt/comfort, happy ending hehe 🫶

Writing under the cut (SFW):

You couldn’t help but smile as you saw a certain someone’s nickname flashing across your screen. Right on time.

Though you supposed he knew what you were doing. After all, Aventurine is smart. Even if he didn’t realize it right away, he had to know by now.

You picked up the phone.

“Well hello, stranger. To what do I owe the honor?” It was hard to keep the sly lilt and inflection out of your voice when you knew he was definitely gripping his phone tightly on the other end of the line.

“I’m sure you know, dear. You’re slick but not that slick. You’ll have to do better than that to outplay me,” Aventurine said, his voice still fixed in that unhurried cadence and unbothered tone like usual despite the situation.

You rested your cheek on a hand and leaned back in your seat with a smile. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean. In any case, it’s a bit odd of you to call me. After all, we did break up. You remember that, I’m sure.”

You could practically hear the leather of his gloves crunching (is it crunching I forgot-) as he clenched a fist, keeping hold of his restraint.

The two of you had been dancing around each other like cat and mouse. Though at this point, who was the cat and who was the mouse was anyone’s guess.

Despite having gotten to the point of breaking up, you ended up missing him a lot. And thus you began the dance only to find his hand already waiting for you. It was unspoken that you both wanted the same thing. But every time he drew closer, you’d pull back. A frustrating back and forth that seemed to confuse him. Aventurine was sure you wanted him back. And yet you never let the cat finally catch his prey. Why? He didn’t get it.

“Oh sweetheart- Let’s not keep pretending, yes? I know you’ve been trying to catch my attention. You can’t hide your intentions.”

“Seems it’s working, then.”

It was true. You had been doing things to keep Aventurine’s eyes on you. Despite playing a game of keep away with him with how you’d draw him in and push him away, you didn’t want him looking at anyone else. At the same time, you weren’t sure if you’d truly be willing to get together again. What if the train went off the tracks again? The first time had been rough enough with the two of you waging a passive aggressive war and pointedly ignoring each other at some points.

And thus, this odd little game of yours. One that Aventurine was growing tired of it he had finally called you.

“Let’s talk in person, shall we?” “What-?”

A knock at the door. No fucking way- You opened the door to see your favorite the blond man himself.

“Hiya, darling dearest~”

“Aventurine.”

“No need to be like that. I was serious about that talk.” He then pulled a bouquet of your favorite flowers out from behind his back. “For you,” Aventurine said with that stupid charming smirk of his. You squinted at him for a moment before accepting the flowers with a huff and a faux annoyed, “Fine.”

You were a bit conflicted. You were excited that he was here. Especially because he seemed desperate enough to actually seek you out and talk to you in person. But at the same time this was not something you calculated or expected to happen.

“I know you’re glad to see me. You don’t have to pretend,” he practically purred as you shot a glare over your shoulder, still keeping up appearances. “Oh but of course- I’m absolutely just tickled pink.”

Aventurine chuckled, tipping his head down to look at you over his shades, lids low and eyes practically glowing. “You always did have a way with words, sweetheart.”

He then took off the sunglasses (and oh that was another stupid, dorky little thing about him you found oddly endearing- shades inside a building- stupid silly adorable man-) and plopped down on your couch while you put the flowers down on the counter in the kitchen. You’d deal with them later. For now you had him to deal with. You sat in the chair instead of the couch. He pouted playfully about it, but didn’t comment. “I’ll cut to the chase- I want you back. And I know you want me back, too. I just can’t figure out why you’re leading me closer and then shoving me away. I’m starting to get the feeling you just like my attention. But even so- We both know the truth. So why don’t you just give in, lovely? I know you want to,” he said, surprisingly not using the old song and dance of leading someone around to get the information he wanted. He didn’t talk in circles and didn’t even seem all that flirty despite his words. He was… oddly serious.

“And what about the reason we broke up before?” You didn’t even try to pretend anymore. Aventurine has always been able to see right through you. That ability had clearly not gone anywhere. “I can’t make promises, but we can talk. We’ll work something out. I’ll even compromise on it.” Compromise was not an Aventurine word. Any deals he made were made in his favor without the other person even knowing what they were going to lose. Your incredulity must have been showing on your face more than you thought because he laughed lightly, the sound somehow dry- tired and heavy. “I see that look. I’m serious, baby. I’m sorry I ever let you go. You’re the only one who stayed. The only one who has stuck around. I need you. I’ll give it all to you. My attention, my trust, my… my heart, even. You don’t have to play these games to make me want you.”

Now you feel a bit guilty. But at the same time, elated. Even before you broke up, he never once brought up matters of trust and love. He seemed far too uncomfortable even edging around the topic. But now Aventurine was the first one to bring it up.

You said nothing but silently stood. And his eyes dimmed, waiting for disappointment. But then you walked over and sat next to him, pulling him into a hug. “I missed you, Aven.”

He let out a shaky sigh and wrapped you up in his embrace, arms tight around you.

“Kakavasha.”

“What?”

“You should tell me, ‘I missed you, Kakavasha,’” he (Kakavasha?) said, his voice was shaky with emotion.

“I… I missed you, Kakavasha.”

“And I love you, sweetheart.”

[cressthebest]

Crimson Rivers thoughts part 37

chapter 56:

1. 😦 they.. they put a mask on sirius? they put him in azkaban?? my boy!! no!

2. 😭😭 sirius having already killed three guards tho. i love him

3. “Bastards they may be, stupid they are not.”

4. “At least he gets the sound of his own voice, though, which is a huge improvement in his opinion.”

he’s so funny i love him. he’s a murderer! he fell in love with a servant! he loves the sound of his own voice! he’s demisexual! he volunteered for regulus twice! he likes wood carving! he called the random guard “stuart”! he convinced the head gamemaker to change the rules so he can keep his brother and best freind! he continues to obnoxiously sing when face to face with riddle!

no one is doing it like him, i fear

5. “"Sounds like you've had a shitty week," is what Sirius says, finally, when he can bring himself to speak.”” 😭😭 he’s so bold. my dear, you are chained in front of the most dangerous man in the world and you tell HIM that his life fucking sucks. my dear. the ABSOLUTE GALL you have

6. “"I need not lie, Sirius."

"Yeah, that's what liars say."”

my DEAR

7. “”Kneel down on the floor before me like a dog and beg."”

i prefer this out of context. but in context, it’s riddle being an absolute bitch to sirius. like excuse you.

8. “Sirius Black is many, many things, but a peasant before a king is never and will never be one.” A-FUCKING-MEN

9. 😮 did sirius just BITE OFF A CHUNK OF RIDDLES ARM??? praise be

10. marylily?? marylily??? MARYLILY??? going feral at any and all hints towards them

11. “"I like your legs," Lily says stupidly, because her brain and mouth have disconnected briefly, apparently.”

bbg i’m in love with you 😭😭

12. aww any mentions of petunia from lily break my heart

13. lily being so desperately in love with mary is my new drug

14. REMUS AND LILY FALLING RIGHT BACK INTO ROUTINE WITH BEING OBNOXIOUS TO EACH OTHER >>>>>>>>

15. “Lily gave him his [cigarette] first in six years days ago, and he'd coughed through the whole thing, then smoked five more back-to-back.”

16. “A stranger is just someone you haven't met yet. What do you call someone you knew better than yourself that you no longer recognize? A ghost?”

wtf wtf wtf that’s insane to write. lily and remus did NOT deserve this

17. “Lily has never known a Remus afraid of freedom, and Remus has never known a Lily afraid of love.”

18. “because they're still two bodies and one heart after all this time, if nothing else.”

that is beautiful and i’m forever grateful of the way the marauders fandom puts emphasis on the importance of friendships. like, this isn’t about a romantic couple. that is said about FRIENDS. friends got that description of their love for each other.

19. the fact that their friendship is so close, remus can REACH INTO LILY’S bra (to grab a cig) and she’s just upset cause his hands are cold.

20. crying actually, cause of all things to break me this chapter, it’s the fact that sirius and effie smoke together

21. oof i have a bad feeling about how dorlene is gonna end up

22. 😦😦 marlene gives the ring back. wtfffff damn that hurtsss

23. “”I am telling you this explicitly, right now, if you shoot your shot and fuck up in any way, I will let her pick a part of your body to take as a trophy, then remove it and give it to her. Still interested?"

"Even more so," Rodolphus says, wiggling his eyebrows. "She's got crazy friends, too. That's hot."”

me fr 😌 give me insane bitches (oh wait. maybe IM the crazy person)

24. 😳 practically fifteen seconds of flirting and he and barty decided to go fuck. that’s fucking insane. IS THIS HOW ALLOS ARE??? LIKE THEY CAN DO THAT??? (not all allos obviously, but some can do that??)

25. the way servants (slaves) are treated in the hallow make me angry beyond belief. like, seething white hot anger

26. FOAMING AT THE MOUTH AND NOT IN A GOOD WAY!!! THEY FIXED JAMES’ EYESIGHT AND IM SO FUCKING PISSED

27. riddle tortured sirius and lemme jsut say, if someone told that to remus and regulus, the war would be over in a day flat

28. “The odds are not in Riddle's favor. If you ask James, he'll bet on his people every fucking time. It's not a game of chance, or luck, but a game of faith—and James has that in spades.” james’ loyalty is probably my favorite character trait of his

29. honorary authors note mention: “also lmaooo sirius literally in prison and still killing people 😭 he really said: you put me in prison, im gonna commit crimes, duh 🙄 he's everything to me”

30. honorary authors note mention pt 2: “rodolphus "i will hit every step on the crazy ladder if it kills me" lestrange living his truth and getting with the most insane, available people he meets every chance he gets””

[mlmxreader]

Tell Me One Thing | Holland March x gn!reader

anonymous asked: hello hello i hope you’re doing as well as you can :) i was wondering if i could request some holland march x gn!reader with the prompts: “hey, hey, look at me c’mon” and “for what it’s worth, i’m proud of you”. where basically holland’s on a case and someone recognises him as the reader’s boyfriend but they have some very strong opinions about them being together and say kinda nasty things. he gets home before the reader and the latter finds him curled in upon himself like overthinking and stuff and comforts him. thank you! :)

summary: March has a habit of letting certain things get under his skin a bit too much, but thankfully, his partner comforts him when he needs it.

tws: swearing, alcohol consumption, smoking, mentions of injury, mentions of alcoholism

support your fanfic writers by reblogging what you read & enjoy

It seemed like a normal enough day.

Healy was chatting to people in the busy street while Holland waited by the car and smoked; they were just looking for some old lady's lost dog, but money was money, and private investigators like Healy and March couldn't afford to turn down a job.

Holland did think, though, that he might be able to escape to the nearest payphone and call you; Holly was at school - hopefully - by now, which meant that the chances were, you were at home for a little while before your shift started.

He debated it, and when he saw that Healy was still chatting, he made his mind up; his bandaged fingers thumbled with the numbers, but he got there in the end and lit another cigarette.

But as it was ringing, someone knocked on the booth. Figuring that they probably just wanted to use it, he opened the door, and clenched his jaw.

"Can't you fucking see it's in use?"

The stranger looked him up and down for a moment. "Aren't you dating the person that used to live on Foxtrot Street?"

Holland quirked a brow. "Y/N?"

"Yeah," they nodded. "You're the new boyfriend, right?"

Holland shrugged as he scoffed. "The fuck do you wanna know for? Go on, get lost, pal."

The stranger didn't budge, folding their arms across their chest. "Y'know, I think it's absolutely sickening. A nice person like that, with scum like you - it's a surprise they haven't crawled into the bottom of a bottle, as well."

He rolled his eyes, attempting to close the door on them, but they put their hand on the frame. "Just fucking let me make a call."

"Please," they huffed. "Leave them alone. They deserve better than some P.I who drinks too much to even care about his own kid. You're gonna fuck them over, just like you fuck everybody else over. Leave them alone."

They only backed off once Healy approached, and although he wanted to talk about it, Holland couldn't find the energy to do so; he got in the car, hardly spoke but swigged from his flask like there was no tomorrow.

When Healy dropped him off, Holland had only one thing in mind: bed.

He flopped down onto the soft mattress, face buried against the pillows as he closed his eyes; maybe they were right. They did have a point, but he had been working on his drinking. But he was also useless - he fell off of several balconies that day, all on the ground floor at least unlike last time.

Maybe he would fuck you over. He didn't want to, but maybe he would. He spent what felt like eternity laid there, but eventually moved onto his side, cuddling into a pillow as he brought his knees to his chest, staring out at nothing.

He hoped Holly wouldn't be home any time soon, she didn't need to see her father worrying so badly about something that a stranger had said.

But Holly didn't come home first.

Holland knew it wasn't her when he heard the door lock from the inside, a muttering voice listing out all the chores to do throughout the house; familiar footprints slowly approaching along with the scent of his cologne, like the wearer had stolen one of his shirts.

He usually smiled, but not today. He just sighed and cuddled into the pillow even more.

"Hey, baby," you hummed, not thinking much at first as you shrugged your jacket off and hung it up on the corner of the wardrobe. Sweat trickling down your back and clinging to your forehead. "How was your day?"

Holland grumbled. "Why are you still here?"

You furrowed your brows as you turned around, shoving your hands into your pockets. "What do you mean?"

"I'm just gonna fuck you up," he sighed. "I fuck everything up and you… deserve better."

"Oh, Holland," you sighed, squatting down so that your eyes were on the same level as his. "Holland, Holland, Holland… you're not gonna fuck me up. I mean, you do give me really bad fright every time you go out, but that's because I know you - I know you're not exactly great with balconies."

Holland sighed.

But you wouldn't relent. "Hey, hey, look at me, c'mon… atta boy. Listen to me, baby - do you really think I'd leave?"

He shrugged. "You should."

"I'm not going to," you said softly. "No one, and I mean no one, has made me laugh as much as you can. You think I'd give all that up?"

"I make you laugh?"

"Yes," you leaned forward, gently kissing his forehead. "And that means everything to me, you know that… you wanna tell me what happened?"

"Someone approached me while we were working," he said quietly. "Said some pretty shitty things."

"And you let them get under your skin," you hummed, nodding. "Y'know, this is only like the window incident."

Usually, he smiled at the reminder.

When he had been playfully bickering with you at a party and he had thought that a window was shut, only to lean back and fall right through it, landing on a buffet table crowded by people.You laughed the entire way to the hospital, and he had never heard something so wonderful.

But he had allowed one of the doctors comments about you to get under his skin, just as he had now.

"Y'know, for what it's worth, I'm proud of you," you told him. "I really am."

Slowly, Holland dared to sit upright, spreading his legs so that you were between them, looking up at him with your head leaning on his thigh, a small smile on your lips. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," you confirmed, gently pushing him back until his back hit the mattress, straddling his waist. "You gonna let go of the pillow?"

He threw it, and ignored whatever went crashing down with it as he eagerly gripped at your sides. "Better?"

"Much," you nodded. laughing loudly when he moved to pin you onto your back beneath him, your wrists in his hands as he pinned them above your head. "Don't start something that you can't finish, mind, March."

"I can finish it," he murmured. "Just… tell me one thing."

"Anything."

"Tell me you love me."

[nathanbatemanfucker]

hey bestie! for your little blurb thing how about mountains with marc spector? i’m excited to see what you come up with <3

Searching

about this: marc spector x gn!reader. prompt: mountains. cw: meetcute, awkward flirting, coffee mention. wc: 918. not beta’d!!

send me a prompt from this list + a character!

There could be a lot of things wrong with the man in front of you right now. He certainly is much stronger than you, possibly faster. Usually, running into a person on these trails— especially a man— would make you bolt back the way you came. You come here for solitude, are always hopeful for safety. But, there’s something about him that’s different.

Endearing even.

He’s built well, with broad shoulders and hands. He’s holding a map, his thick eyebrows furrowed together as he attempts to read it. His full mouth is moving, like he’s whispering to himself, talking through where he is. He looks so incredibly serious— not to mention handsome— but even so, something about him seems calm. Gentle.

As you wonder how to approach him you shift slightly, and he looks up at the sound of your sneakers scraping together. All of that gentleness is overflowing in his deep brown eyes, and it sends a round of butterflies through your stomach.

The two of you simply stare at each other, like two startled animals. When you think about it…that’s exactly what you are. You smile at him sheepishly but still, your mouth moves to say nothing. You think he tries to smile back, though it seems he’s a little out of practice. It makes you curious, and a little sad.

“Hi,” He says finally, awkwardly. His voice is much softer than you anticipated even with your kind conceptions about him. It’s sweet.

You clear your throat, twisting your hands together, “Hi. First timer?”

He grimaces, “That obvious?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone with a map on these trails.”

He gestures around with one of his hands, the softest edge of playfulness in his voice, “Everyone just knows where to go, huh?”

You grin, shrugging, “Something like that. You aren’t from around here I imagine?”

“No. Chicago.”

“You’re a long way from home,” You murmur curiously.

He shrugs, his eyes going past you as if he’s thinking about something. Then he says, “Home is where you make it.”

Humming softly in agreement, you take another step toward him. “Want some help?”

Marc hesitates but then your smile widens, head tilting in encouragement. He sniffs, nodding, “If it wouldn’t be too much of an inconvenience.”

“Not at all. Where are you trying to go?” You ask, coming to stand beside him to take a look at his map.

“If I’m reading this right, there’s supposed to be a coffee cart about 10-15 minutes from here.”

“Yeah, here,” You agree softly, pointing to the landmark on the map. “It gets a little convoluted around this part with all the different shoot-offs. I was headed that way, I can just walk with you.”

Marc looks up from the map to glance over at you, his cheeks tinging a soft pink at your offer. It’s been a long time since he’s been interested in anyone, and though he doesn’t expect this to go anywhere his heart flutters in his chest. So far removed from any action that just a stranger simply asking to help has his palms sweaty— Steven and Jake will never let him hear the end of this.

“Sure. Yeah. I’d appreciate that,” He nods, quickly folding up the map.

You and Marc start the correct way, exchanging names as you put one foot in front of the other. You point out how confusing it can be to pick the right path as you all pass a bunch of off-shooting trails. It makes Marc feel a little better about being turned around, though your kindness has been helpful in batting away his shame.

The walk flies by, conversation coming much more easily than either of you anticipated. Marc is reluctant to let you go, wishing that the coffee cart would materialize a mile away. There are few patrons in line, waiting to order so you both linger— you’re not quite ready to end your time with him either.

“Uh, thanks for helping out there, usually I’m not so turned around,” He says after a few beats of silence.

“Hey, no problem. If you keep heading this way you should make it back to the beginning of the park.”

“Right, yeah. Thanks,” He holds out his hand to you.

“It was really nice to meet you, Marc,” You say earnestly, shaking his hand firmly— it’s warm, a little calloused, fits perfectly in yours.

“Yeah, you too,” He says, and he means it. For the first time in a long time, Marc is content to interact with someone other than his alters. It feels like a breath of fresh air.

You give him a genuine smile despite your disappointment in him not asking you to join him, the tiniest wave before you start back the way you two came from. He watches you, watches as the first person to make him really feel something in ages starts to walk away from him.

This whole hiking though the mountains, getting in touch with nature thing was part of his soul searching after everything. And though he hadn’t been completely sure what he was going to find when he stepped onto this trail that much is clear now.

“Could I buy you a cup of coffee? You drink coffee don’t you?” He calls after you before you can get too far.

You let out a breath you don’t realize you were holding in then, turn back toward him, the smile on your face returning. Nodding softly you call back, “Yeah, Marc, I drink coffee.”

[arc852]

17. Quaff

Definition: to drink (a usually alcoholic beverage) heartily or copiously

Summary: Grian and Joel decide to celebrate their first semester ending by drinking some beer. Jimmy has some questions.

G/t: Grian and Joel are normal-sized, Jimmy is a borrower

Word Count: 1247

Warnings: Drinking and mentions of people getting drunk

AO3 Link

Another installment in the BBBCAU! This is another one I'm pretty excited to share with you guys.

Also, I have never had any sort of alcohol before (I'm 25, I just don't care for drinking), so if anything is innaccurate here that is why. I hope you guys enjoy!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 “Alright! One semester down!” Joel shouted as he cracked open his beer and took a big swig of it.

 The three of them, Joel, Grian, and Jimmy, were currently in their dorm room celebrating the fact that Joel and Grian had survived their first semester of college. They were all currently sitting on Joel’s bed, legs hanging off the side as Joel and Grian enjoyed some cans of beer they picked up from the convenience store down the street.

 “Man, that tastes awful.” Joel said, but he was still grinning. Grian nodded in agreement as he sipped on his own can.

 Jimmy looked up from between the two of them. “Wait, it tastes bad?”

 “Absolutely terrible. No wonder it was on sale.” Joel said as he took another drink.

 Jimmy was even more confused. “Then why are you guys still drinking it?”

 “Oh sweet and naive Jim, the taste isn’t really the point.” Joel grinned. “It’s the effect it has on you. That’s why people like to drink it.” 

 “Oh.” Jimmy knew what kind of effect alcohol had on humans. It made them act different and weird and sometimes even pass out. Jimmy had seen many from his time watching from within the walls. He hadn’t known that it tasted bad though. He didn’t think that was worth it at all. “I mean, I’m not a stranger to having to drink or eat things that tasted bad but why would you choose to? I don’t really think the effects are worth it to be honest.”

 The tone shifted a little at Jimmy’s mention from something in his past. Grian and Joel always hated to hear how Jimmy had to survive. Whether that was Jimmy talking about living in the dust covered walls, or now, talking about the kinds of food he had to eat in order to just survive and live another day.

 The two humans looked at each other. Grian shook his head and Joel sighed. So they would not be bringing it up today then. That was fine though. Today was supposed to be a day of celebration anyway.

 Grian cleared his throat, trying to move past the awkward shift without having Jimmy notice. “Not all alcohol tastes bad and there are even people out there that would like the taste of this beer.” He took another sip. “But there are also people out there, like us, that don’t like the taste but still like how it affects us.”

 “Yeah, a little buzz is nice.” Joel said with a shrug.

 “A little buzz?” Jimmy questioned.

 “Yeah, it kind of…fogs up your mind a bit. Let’s you let go and relax. At least, it does for the two of us. Alcohol can affect people in different ways though.” Joel tried his best to explain. It was weird having to explain this kind of thing to someone but honestly, he was used to explaining things like this to Jimmy. He was a borrower after all, he didn’t have the same experiences or knowledge that a human did.

 Jimmy thought for a moment. “So… you guys aren’t going to like…trip over yourselves or get touchy with everyone or suddenly pass out? You’re just gonna be like…a bit more relaxed?” Jimmy said, trying to piece together what Joel just said meant. If that was the case, Jimmy was a bit relieved. He would be lying if he said he hadn’t been nervous when Grian and Joel announced they were celebrating with alcohol.

 Once again, the tone shifted and Grian and Joel looked at each other and then back at Jimmy with wide eyes. “Um…yeah, no that’s, I mean…” Joel started and then looked to Grian for help. 

 “Yeah, just relaxed. All that other stuff really only happens if you get drunk. Which is a word that means when you drink too much. We’re not planning on going that far though.” Grian paused for a moment, wondering if he should even bring this up. “How…how do you know all that though?”

 “I’ve seen my fair share of college parties, you know.” Jimmy revealed with a slight huff. “It was some of the best borrowings of my life once the party ended. I usually watched until then so I would be sure it was safe to go out there and grab some stuff.”

 “Isn’t that dangerous?” Joel said, his voice a slightly higher pitch for reasons unknown to Jimmy.

 “I mean, it can be. But I was pretty careful.” Jimmy said with a proud smile.

 Grian, despite everything, snorted. “I find that hard to believe.”

 “Hey! I was! I only almost got caught once and…um, I mean, wait-” Jimmy tried to backtrack. He knew how weird Grian and Joel got about things like this. He hadn’t meant to reveal that but when he was riled up he sometimes just let things get blurted out by accident.

 “You what!?” Both Grian and Joel exclaimed at the same time and Jimmy couldn’t help but wince at the volume.

 “H-Hey, obviously nothing happened so let’s just pretend I never said that…” Jimmy tried, waving his hands to try and calm them both down. It didn’t work.

 “Jimmy, you can’t just say something like that and expect us to just forget about it. That’s not good!” Joel said and Jimmy could tell he was gripping his beer can a little tighter than normal. Better the can and not him, the instinctual part of his brain said.

 “Yeah Tim, being around drunks like that already isn’t good to begin with. I can’t imagine what would’ve happened if you had actually gotten caught.” Grian reprimanded him. Jimmy looked away from the both of them, feeling ganged up on. 

 “Why are you two making such a big deal out of this? It was ages ago and I already told you, nothing even happened.” Jimmy said, still not looking at either of them. “I just made a stupid mistake and got seen when I was going for some chips. The human was so, uh, ‘drunk’ that he doesn’t even remember seeing me.” Jimmy tried his best to relay the story without going into too much detail. While it was fine now, Jimmy had to admit it was very scary at the time. Especially since he had waited until well into the next day watching and waiting to see if the human would try to come after him.

 Thankfully, as he had said, the human hadn’t even remembered seeing him.

 “Still! That’s-huh-” Joel stopped as Grian put an arm in front of him and shook his head. Joel searched his eyes before dropping his hands and sighing, looking away. 

 “Alright, Tim. We’ll drop it.” Grian said and Jimmy finally looked up at him. Grian’s face was carefully neutral, while Joel was now the one trying not to look at Jimmy. 

 “Oh, uh…thanks.” Honestly, he hadn’t been expecting that. But he was thankful all the same.

 Grian then stood up, handed his drink to Joel and went over to grab his laptop from on his desk. “How about we relax and watch a movie together?”

 “Okay.”

 “Yeah, sure.” Jimmy and Joel said in that order. 

 As Grian was setting the movie up, Joel stood up and not so subtly dumped his and Grian’s beers down the sink. He felt a bit sick to his stomach after hearing what Jimmy said and he knew Grian felt the same.

 It would be a long time before either of them felt comfortable drinking again.

[behoright]

smitten l f. andersen

shorty, would you join me for one night?

summary: freddie wakes up next to a lovely stranger, and he really can't remember how you got there.

wordcount: 3.2k

song: pretty kitten - dua saleh

warnings: 18+ - minors dni! smut and sexual situations. tw: unprotected sex (oops), bruises and hickeys, mention of partying, alcohol and hangovers.

a/n: barely proofread. wrote it today - ig I was in a freddie mood. to anon who asked about him - hope you like this!

︎ ︎ ︎⠀¡   🎀 ׄ 𓄼⠀⠀.⠀⠀︎ ︎ ︎⠀¡   🎀 ׄ 𓄼⠀⠀.⠀⠀

“Oh, my fucking head.”

Freddie’s eyes blinked open early, thanks to the lovely tension that wrapped his head tightly. It was so painful that he felt like even blinking made his temples spasm in pain.

It took him a second for Freddie to place himself in space and time. The last thing he remembered was winning the game, the Canes’ first stadium series game, and going out with the team. They all went to a bar together, or, was it a club?

That’s when things started to become blurry for him. Considering Jarvy forced everyone to start drinking in the locker room, he wasn’t surprised. 

Freddie wasn’t a huge party guy, but he had fun when it was called for. 

Not usually like this, though, he thought. 

He couldn’t remember the last time he had gotten blackout drunk. 

The pounding in his head and slight recoiling in his stomach quickly reminded him why. He laid in bed, his eyes still adjusting to his room, waiting for any flashbacks of the night before.

Nothing.

Thankfully, he recognized his room, a tiny bead of sunshine seeping through the crack in his curtains. He must have been really wasted considering that, from what he could see, he left the bathroom light on and his clothes were all over the floor. 

Even if he wanted to, Freddie felt like he couldn’t move. He wanted to grab a pillow and bury his head in it until he fell asleep.

That is until he went to reach over for one next to him and ended up grabbing…you.

Freddie’s heart jumped as soon as he recognized a head of hair on the pillow next to him, his hand retrieving dramatically. 

This, he really had no recollection of. 

He attempted to puzzle everything together.

At closer inspection, the clothes on the ground were not only his. Your purse and heels thrown half haphazardly on the chaise that sat in the corner of his room.

“Oh, fuck.” he chuckled. He hadn’t had a night like this in a while. In longer than he liked to admit. 

He watched you, mesmerized, as you turned onto your back and slowly opened your eyes.

“Uh, hi. Good morning.”

“Hello.” you said, quietly, looking up at him.

Your sweet voice prompted something in the player’s head, something he couldn’t quite place his finger on. Suddenly, he had just a taste of memory from last night. Maybe… talking to you somewhere? 

He sighed, coming to terms with the harsh truth. He might never remember what happened.

“I, uh. I’m sorry.” he said, rubbing his face in his hands. “I, I don’t remember a single thing from last night.”

“Yeah, we were pretty drunk.” you uttered.

“Do you remember?”

“Bits and pieces.” you chuckled, watching his face light up slightly. “I remember enough.”

“Did we, um?” he asked, gesturing at the room. 

You could only nod, sitting up and covering your bare chest with his sheets. 

“Okay, that explains the, um, you know, the clothes and all.” he said, eyeing your body move under the blankets. 

Freddie quickly opened his nightstand drawer just to find, to his horror, his stash of condoms untouched. 

Shit.

Well, it was too late now to do anything about it, he thought, looking back at you. 

Who was this? Who was this beautiful woman, and how did she end up in his bed?

“I hope I didn’t, um, do you anything, that you didn’t…”

You turned towards him more, finding that worried gaze, shaking your head before he even finished.

“Oh, thank god.” he sighed. “I-, I was afraid that, you know…”

“No, no. I definitely came here of my own volition.” you said, putting your hand on his arm as reassurance. “The parts I remember were, uh. They were fun.”

“Oh, okay, good.”. Freddie looked down, blush spread all over his face. 

From what he could piece together, despite the growing hammering in his head, was that you were both almost equally as drunk. 

The rest was still unclear.

But you didn’t seem repulsed, or disgusted, or afraid of him, and that was a good sign in Freddie’s books. Because after all, even if he couldn’t remember it, that meant he had managed to get you naked, and it had felt good enough to disregard any use of protection. 

Drunk Freddie had great taste but poor choices, he thought to himself, before letting out a big, belly laugh. 

“This is so fucked.” he exclaimed. 

“I know! I never, really, do this, so. I understand.” you sighed, laughing along with him.

“Oh, fuck it.” he said, extending an arm to you. “C’mere.”

He wrapped his forearm around your shoulders, letting your head fall with a sigh on his bare chest. He obviously knew you were naked, but it didn’t hit him until he felt your soft skin come in contact with his under the sheets. A tiny spark went off in his head, the memory of the feeling of your body slowly coming back to his senses. 

“I can see why I came home with you.” he said. 

“Yeah?” you asked, looking up at him. “I’m not a regret? You’re not kicking me out?”

“No, no. Stay.” he said. “But only because I don’t remember anything. I need someone to help me put together what the fuck actually happened.”

“Oh, I see! So I’m only allowed to stay here for memory purposes only.” you chuckled.

“Absolutely.” he said. He thought you couldn’t tell, but it was quite obvious Freddie’s eyes had locked on your lips as you two kept the banter going.

“Well, I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I don’t think I remember much more than you. I don’t believe I’m going to be too useful in that department.”

“Perhaps I should kick you out, then. What am I going to do with you?”

“Right, right. Nothing. Maybe I should go.”

Freddie didn’t even let you finish the sentence before his grip tightened against your body, bringing your face closer to his. 

“You’re too warm right now. If I let you leave, I’ll get cold and stuff, so. I do need you to stay here. Cuddling purposes only.” he said, winking at you.

“I think I can be a good cuddler.” you said, placing your cheek on his shoulder.

“So far, so good.” he uttered, his gaze never leaving your face. “But maybe you could get a little bit closer.”

Your scooched closer, hooking your leg around his hip, bodies flushed and touching. As soon as your thigh met his hips, however, it was impossible not to feel his morning wood. 

“You’re hard.” you said, boldly, looking back up at him.

“Uh, yeah. Sorry.” he stammered. “Sometimes, you know, that’s awake earlier than I am. I’m really sorry.”. 

Freddie went to adjust your leg, attempting to move it away, before you stopped him. 

“No more cuddles?”

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” he said.

“I don’t mind. It’s okay with me.”

“It, it might get worse with your leg, you know, moving on top of it like that.”

“My leg is on it, isn’t it?” you said, slowly applying a tiny amount of pressure. “Is it bothering you? I can move.”

“No, no, no, that’s okay.” he spewed out, perhaps a bit too hurriedly. “It feels kinda good, actually.”

“Oh, it does?” you asked, moving your leg up his length now, with more pressure now. 

“Hey!” he laughed, throwing his head back. “Come on, now. Yeah, yeah, that feels good.”

“I mean I’m just getting comfortable!” you chuckled. “I want to make sure I give the best cuddles, since this is why I’m here.”

He kept laughing, his chest moving as he threw his head back into the pillows, before finding your sparkling eyes looking up at him again. 

“Oh, you’re doing great. Yeah, those are…” Freddie’s voice lowered as he brought his face close to yours, the tip of your nose touching his. “...they’re great cuddles.” He whispered against your mouth before pressing his lips into yours. 

Feeling your tongue run down his bottom lip, Freddie parted his lips, letting you in his mouth and letting more memories play front center in his mind.

He could immediately remember first tasting you, the taste of you and the drinks mixed on his tongue as the cool winter breeze hit his face. 

You moved closer to him, your leg clenching on his hard cock, bringing him back to the present. 

Freddie pressed his hand against your cheek as he brought you somehow even closer as your kiss grew wetter and more heated. 

There was no fighting for dominance, your tongues lapping at each other, interlocking and twisting while your lips rubbed harshly the more turned on you both began to get. You were moving so smoothly, stroking his member steadily with your soft thigh, making Freddie ant more and more. It took one moan out of him for you to straddle him, his lips never leaving yours. 

“You’re wet.” he said, his eyebrows shooting up as soon as your pussy sat flush on his dick. 

“Yeah, I mean, sometimes that’s awake befo-”

“Shut up!” he exclaimed, jokingly pushing at your arm. 

Now that you were on top of him, Freddie could see the evidence from the night before, along with how beautiful your body was. 

Marks covering your velvet skin, from your neck all the way down to your lower belly. 

He ran his calloused fingers down your abdomen, staring agape at the dark bruises that adorned your skin. 

“It was all you.” you said so quietly, it was almost a whisper. 

“I-, I don’t usually do this.” he said, keeping his eyes on the clusters of marks as you rolled your hips hard onto him. 

“Well, it felt really good.” you moaned, your head lolling back as you began to rub your wet cunt up and down Freddie’s cock. 

He let out a quiet moan, his fingertips grazing upwards until they found your now exposed neck. He traced the burgundy lovebites gently as he watched your eyes roll to the back of your head. 

“Keep rolling your hips like that, fuck.” he moaned. “Like that, baby, yeah.”

As you picked up the pace, your juices wetting his pulsating cock, you looked back down at him. Freddie’s freckles on his chest were highlighted by the redness that now covered him, his breathing picking up exponentially faster. 

The mix of his cum from the night before mixed with your arousal made both of your sexes slick and slippery with desire, allowing your clit to glide smoothly on his member. You would both moan louder whenever your swollen nub would reach Freddie’s head, the palpitations of your lust sending shockwaves all throughout your bodies. 

And Freddie thought this was so fucking hot.

“Oh, fuck me.” he said, letting his fingers through his hair. “You’re making me throb like crazy.”

He could feel your thighs clenching from the desire, almost beginning to tremble, as you started to lose yourself on top of him. Your warm fingers were now placed firmly on his lower abdomen, right where Freddie was starting to feel the pleasure build up briskly. He loved that you weren't necessarily riding his faster, but instead letting your weight go more and more on top of him, letting that delicious pressure heighten the feeling. 

Freddie could feel your entrance slide on him, and it was starting to become unbearable. He sat up, wrapping your arms around your low back, finding your hazy eyes as you didn’t quit your movements. 

“You want it so bad, don’t you?” Freddie whispered into your lips. “You’re driving me crazy. baby.” 

You almost fell onto him, your glistening and plump lips bouncing against his over and over in a series of aggressive and sensual kisses. If there was a lack of dominance before, it had now turned into a messy and sloppy fight of a makeout session, constantly interrupted by little hasty pecks. The thought of letting you completely overtake his mouth made Freddie’s cock twitch against your swollen cunt. 

“I can’t take this anymore, baby.” he said, his biceps easily picking you up and throwing you, face down on his mattress. 

He swore he heard a little giggle as you hit the sheets, your ass slily sitting up and back for him. The quick movements made Freddie’s headache worsen, the room moving slightly; he didn’t know if it was his hangover or how turned on you had him, but he frankly only cared about one thing. 

“You’ve had your fun for now, you minx.” he said, positioning the head of his cock at your entrance.

Freddie’s fingers grabbed your ass harshly as he bottomed out inside of you, his bottom lip tucked tightly beneath his teeth. His body covered in goosebumps rapidly as he felt his pubic hair touch your ass. 

As he started thrusting he suddenly remembered filling you up in the same way the previous night. He remembered your hair tightly in his grip as he buckled his hips into yours over and over again, the sweetness of your moans sounding just how they did right now. 

He began moving, slowly, in and out, letting his precum coat every inch of your walls.  

“Oh, yes, baby. You’re so fucking perfect.” he groaned. 

Freddie was a big man overall, towering way higher than you, and that translated to all of his body. You could feel the places inside you that had been touched by his cock the night before, traces of his touch marking you still. No matter how wet and ready you were for him, it was still a compact fit, his cock tightly snug inside you. 

A big part of Freddie’s weight was resting on your ass and lower back, his strong forearms tensed as he pushed you down into the mattress and fucked himself deep into you.

It wasn’t enough. 

He wanted to be closer to you, deeper. 

And the more he pushed in, the louder it ripped moans out of you. 

He could be really rough, as you vaguely remembered, but it was clear that Freddie had a shy, more reserved side, even as he started to pick up the pace. He only let go of his unyielding grip on you to gently reach over and turn your head to the side so your cheek was pressed against the mattress.

“No muffled sounds, baby.” he groaned, positioning himself back onto you. “I want to hear you.”

Just like that, he started hitting you harder, his swollen and leaking head tapping at your cervix by now. 

“Oh, oh my god.” you moaned. The angle and pressure of his hands pushing your stomach down were creating a turmoil of pleasure in your hips. He was strong, but it was hard to keep from squirming back into him. 

Seeing you struggle to keep your movements down caused Freddie’s cock to grow harder within you, almost jolting against that spot that made you quiver in pleasure every time. 

He couldn’t believe this was unfolding right below his eyes. The mixture of pleasure, pain growing deeper in his head and straight frustration made his skin flush somehow deeper. The fact that he could only remember small moments from the night before was making him cramp with discouragement. He woke up next to a drop dead gorgeous girl, who was somehow already naked, funny, and sweet, and he couldn’t remember how he got her there. 

Something about it made him thrust more aggressively.

It was hard and hot, and he didn’t feel good, he felt dehydrated and overheated, but at the same time, he was totally overwhelmed by your aura and your body, desire tingling within him.

“Oh, god.” he moaned. “I don’t even know your fucking name, and I-”

“Keep going, baby. Please fill me deeper. I want more.” you moaned, his hips rhythmically slapping against your ass. 

It felt so dirty and primal to him, the fact that he could see and feel the spots he had been around the night before, even if he didn’t remember it. You were so close that his thighs were rubbing against yours, fully, both of your skins reddening at the stimulation. 

Freddie was conflicted between focusing on it all or choosing to fixate on his balls slapping against your wet clit, your thighs quivering against his, your moans or your walls clenching tightly against his cock. The back and forth between it all and the memories of last night playing over again in the back of his head made his eyes roll all the way to the back of his head, legs twitching so hard that he brought his chest to your back, moving his grip to your hips. Your sweat mixed together whenever you both heaved, now moving in unison as your bodies were fully in contact again. 

“Oh, fuck, I’m going to fill you up.” he moaned. “Oh, oh, this is, this not-”

There was a part of him that remained responsible; a part that knew that this was a very bad idea. But the pleasure had taken over, derailing whatever common sense he had left. He let his head fall in the crook of your neck, moving his face fully into your hair. The writhing of your body beneath him felt like ecstasy, the soft skin of your ass rubbing against his pubic bone. Every time he trusted deeper inside you, his chest would slide all the way up your back. He had you completely engulfed in his frame, his arms locking you tightly flush against his body.

“Oh, baby.” he moaned, right before a series of curses tumbled from his mouth as he felt your pussy flutter around him, slowly beginning to crumble in his arms.

Your orgasm hit so deep, his cock pounding into you, that you failed to control or hold back any moans, all of it pouring out of you at once. Feeling you tremble so hard in his arms, Freddie wasn’t far behind. 

He buried his face all the way in your hair, letting your smell overcome him as he shot thick ropes of cum inside you, his big thighs tensing against you. He couldn’t help but squeeze you tighter and tighter, craving to feel your quivering body against his as you kept coming around his twitching member. 

Heavy breathing filled the room as you both stayed immobile, his body growing heavy around yours. 

“Oh, my god.” you whispered.

Freddie couldn’t help but chuckle, his arms eventually releasing you as he sat up, letting his cock grow soft inside your warm, cum filled pussy.

“You’re so beautiful, by the way.” he said, running his fingers through your hair to find your flushed face looking for him already. “Oh, my god, indeed.” 

Your laughs turned into simultaneous whimpers he pulled his cock out of you before coming to sit next to you.

Freddie’s eyes traveled down your body as he trailed his fingers up and down your back, right until you had enough energy to sit up and find him with a kiss.

“Fuck.” he said, eyes staring deeply into yours. “This is going to be embarrassing but…. what’s your name?”

[jaggedhorseteeth]

Better in the Morning // Ch. 2

MASTERLIST

word count: 2700

CHAPTER WARNINGS: Drinking, language, arguing, insults, mentions of violence, mentions of sex, drunk creeps harassing women in bars

Over the course of the next few months, Jake and I grew closer than I ever imagined we would. We had our separate lives, giving each other plenty of space so as to not smother ourselves, but lately we had been spending more and more time together. He was attentive- we talked daily, and I was getting used to the ‘good morning’ and ‘goodnight’ texts. Since coming to Tennessee, I hadn’t had much time to explore but he remedied that, and we experienced what Nashville had to offer together.

It felt as though we never ran out of things to talk about, and we were constantly learning new things about each other. I loved that we never let the banter die down; having fun with him, joking around, pushing each other’s buttons, it all came naturally. His laughter made me feel like I was home.

Oh, he was always a perfect gentleman, careful not to overstep any boundaries, but when the time came (pretty early on if I’m being honest), the sex was phenomenal. It was full of fire and passion, and usually ended with us both so fucked out we couldn’t form actual sentences. There was a perfect balance of sensuality and roughness, being given and received on both ends. I was more than happy to let him take control, to exert that dominance that made my knees tremble and lit a fire in my gut. But being with him, exploring each other, made me realize that occasionally, I quite enjoyed reversing those roles. More than once he got on his knees and begged me to give him release. And damn, he sure was pretty like that.

The first time he brought me around to meet his brothers, there was almost an immediate connection. I really enjoyed their company and for the most part, they treated me like I had been a part of the group forever. Josh was slightly standoffish at first, but he was always kind. His personality was so different from Jake’s, but the unmistakable link between them was surreal. Sam was a goofball, always making everyone laugh. I pretended I didn’t notice the way he watched Daniel like he was the most precious person on the planet.

Even Richie was starting to warm up to Jake. I was thankful they, at the very least, had one thing in common when they could bond over guitars. The occasional grumble from Richie when Jake would flirt in front of him became less threatening, and more of something we would laugh about later.

Jake was able to witness my excitement firsthand when Richie and I finished restoring the Gretsch. He was just as fascinated when I opened the case, now cleaned and restored as well, to show it off. I watched his eyes light up at the sight of it.

The 1957 6-string electric guitar had all new hardware, including two single-coil pickups and a Bigsby vibrato tailpiece. Jake examined the wood, astonished at how smooth it all looked, like it was brand new. “It’s got a chambered mahogany body and neck, a maple top, and the fretboard is rosewood,” Richie explained, clearly proud of our work. I was especially proud of the finish, in a dark Cadillac green. Jake carefully ran his fingers along the neck, examining all the details like he was trying to memorize it. Judging from the way he looked at it, I’d bet if it didn’t already have a buyer, he would have been first in line.

With how smoothly everything was going, it figured that we would hit a road bump soon. And we did, when we had our first actual argument.

We were at a local bar with the guys, having a good time drinking and chatting, and generally shooting the shit. I made my way to the bar for another drink, Jake absorbed in conversation with Daniel. While I waited for my drink, I felt the approach of the stranger before I saw him. I didn’t turn to look at him until he spoke.

“Now what’s a pretty thing like you doing buying her own drinks? Your man not taking good enough care of you?”

I rolled my eyes and ignored him. First chance to take the hint and back off, buddy.

“C’mon, don’t be like that, gorgeous. Let me buy you a drink, and later I can show you how a real man oughta treat you.”

“I’m not interested. Beat it.” Second chance.

He closed the distance between us until I could feel and smell his disgusting breath on me. Give me just one reason, please. I was preparing to defend myself if it came down to it, as I’d unfortunately done many times before. There was never any fear, just annoyance at this guy’s utter audacity. If there was one thing that I was thankful for from my father, was his insistence on me learning how to fight.

I heard the man chuckle as he took his third and final chance before I got to the part about kicking his ass. “You sure about that, sweetheart? I think you-“

“Don’t fucking touch her.” Everything happened so fast, I barely had time to register Jake forcing himself in between myself and the stranger and shoving the man backwards. “Back the fuck off, asshole.”

The guy shook his head, deciding it wasn’t worth the trouble. “Fucking crazy,” he mumbled, disappearing into a group of patrons. I can’t say I wasn’t grateful; I had never seen Jake fight so I wasn’t sure how things would have gone on that front if that man decided to fight back. But I sure was livid.

Jake turned to me. “Are you oka-“

“What the fuck was that?”

The confusion on his face was clear but did nothing to quell my own irritation.

“I don’t need you to fight my battles for me, Jacob. I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Are you serious? Pardon me for trying to protect my girlfriend-“

“I don’t need your fucking protection!” I’m sure we had turned a few heads by then. I let out an exasperated sigh and marched past him, towards the exit. He followed closely, continuously trying to argue his point.

“That creep was fucking harassing you.”

“There will always be creeps in bars harassing me! I had it under control.”

“Yeah? And what if he got physical with you? Got violent? Then what? I was just supposed to let him hurt you?” He was still hot on my heels when we made it outside, the cool air a welcome change from the stuffy bar.

“Then I’d get violent right back. I know how to protect myself; I don’t need a man to do it for me!” I’m sure I was yelling at this point, but I couldn’t be bothered to care.

“You really think you’d be able to fend off someone that’s twice your size?”

“I’ve done it before! I’m not a fucking damsel in distress, Jake. I wasn’t raised like that. I’m not afraid of some pathetic, drunk asshole who isn’t even capable of walking straight!”

“Well maybe you should be! I get that you want to play the ‘I’m a badass and don’t need help’ card, but you don’t have to be stupid and reckless!”

I scoffed. “Oh, I’m stupid and reckless because I didn’t come crying to my boyfriend to save me from the mean ole’ frat boy trying to buy me a drink? I’m not the one that was trying to start a fight in a crowded bar. How do I know you wouldn’t have gotten your ass kicked?”

“I was trying to help you; don’t you see that? But fine, I guess I’ll just go fuck myself for trying to be chivalrous!”

“What you’re being is a pain in the ass.” I’ll be the first to admit I was stubborn as a mule often, when the situation called for it, but I could recognize when it was time to walk away. We were both heated for our own reasons, and I didn’t see anything happening other than the situation escalating. I was seeing red, and the more he talked the worse it got. “I’m gonna go.”

“No, Kya, wait-“ He made like he was going to reach out and touch me. Sighing, I put my hands up and stepped back.

“Jake, right now I need some space, and we both need to cool off. Go back inside, enjoy the rest of your night. We can talk tomorrow.”

He rubbed his hand over his face in frustration, but he didn’t argue. He had a dejected look on his face that tugged on my heartstrings. I wasn’t enjoying this, and I hated making him feel bad, but needed to understand this about me if we were going to make our relationship work. I refused to let anyone walk all over me, whether it be a stranger or my own boyfriend. I was sure we would talk later, and I could nip the issue in the bud and hope we could move past it.

“Goodnight, Jake.”

“Goodnight,” he whispered sadly as I walked away from the man I definitely did not want to walk away from.

~

I still wasn’t feeling good about the whole incident when I walked into the shop early the next morning. I should have known Richie would notice right off the bat.

“Why do you look like someone pissed in your Cheerios? Do I need to kill someone?”

I sighed. “I’m fine. Jake and I got into an argument last night, is all.”

He raised his eyebrows and rolled his eyes back and forth like he was thinking. “So, I can kill him? ‘Cause I gladly-“

“Shut up,” I chuckled. “You’re not killing anyone. I’m sure we’ll talk it out later.”

“Ugh, fine. You wanna talk about it?”

Throughout my life, I could always rely on Richie to have my back for almost everything. He was the parent that I did have, the one I could open up to without fear of judgement or being brushed off. So I explained what had transpired and what was said during the argument, how I chose to distance myself, and how shitty it made me feel to walk away from Jake.

“Ah, shit. You love that fucker, don’t you?”

I groaned at his forward, but very true, assumption, bringing my head down to meet my arm on the counter. “I don’t know. Maybe. Probably?”

He patted my shoulder. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“He just made me so mad last night!”

“And I’m sure it won’t be the last time. Hell, you’re bound to piss him off plenty, too. Doesn’t mean it ain’t right. It’ll be hard sometimes but you’re tough, and if you love him, you’ll work through it.”

“When did you get so wise?”

“Ha, I’ve always been wise, young grasshopper. Now, listen up.” He lowered his voice, putting on a more serious tone. “You’ve always been bullheaded. You’re the most stubborn but one of the strongest people I know. You’ve been through some shit that toughened you up and made you into who you are now. The world you were brought up in, you needed to be tough to survive. That’s why your dad and I made sure you could protect yourself and taught you push back fear. And it’s great; it means I don’t really have to worry about you. Now, I don’t know him all that well, but I think it’s safe to assume Jacob didn’t grow up in a world like that. If I had to guess, he probably has a mom who raised him right, and raised him to be a man who, drumroll please, protects his woman. I know you ain’t used to that, but I bet he ain’t used to having a woman he doesn’t need to protect. He intervened ‘cause he cares about you.”

He was right. I knew that. I felt like such an asshole. I treated Jake badly and he didn’t deserve that. “This is where you tell me that I’ve got to learn to compromise, huh?”

“Let him take care of you, Kya.”

As if on cue, my phone buzzed. Speak of the devil and he shall appear.

Jake <3 – 8:13 AM

I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. Can we talk?

-

I’m sorry, too. I can come over after work. If you’ll have me.

-

Jake <3 – 8:15 AM

Of course. I’ll make dinner.

I smiled at his offer. He was still willing to go out of his way and put forth an effort, even after our argument. It made me feel better and gave me a little hope that I hadn’t completely fucked everything up.

It was about 6:30 PM by the time I pulled into his driveway. I swallowed my nerves, walked up to the house and knocked on the door. Why the hell am I even nervous?

It didn’t take him long to answer, greeting me with that sweet smile of his. His hair was pulled back into a messy bun, a few stray hairs peeking out, and he had a dish towel draped over his shoulder. “Hey.” He stepped to the side, allowing me to cross the threshold, and shut the door behind me.

“It smells really good in here.” He demonstrated early in our relationship that he was an excellent cook, and he really enjoyed it. He always jumped at an opportunity to cook for other people. I wondered if it would have been his calling if not for the music.

He grinned. “Thanks. It’s Bolognese. Uh, it’s got to simmer for another ten or fifteen minutes, but it’ll be ready soon. Do you… want a drink? You know, since you never got the one you ordered at the bar last night?”

I furrowed my brow. “Shit, you’re right. I forgot about that drink.” I noticed him fidgeting with his fingers, picking at the cuticles. He’s nervous, too. Wrapping my arms around his waist, I pulled him to me so I could plant a kiss on his lips. “I’ll take you up on that drink. Surprise me.” I smiled sweetly at him, the interaction seeming to calm both our nerves.

He brought me a glass of Amaretto on ice. “My favorite. Suck up.”

Laughing, he retorted, “Babe, I’ll gladly suck up to you however I can, whenever you want me to.”

“I’m not complaining.” Rubbing my thumb across the glass, I averted my gaze to my lap. “I’m sorry about last night, Jake. I know you had good intentions, and I overreacted. I don’t want to make excuses, it’s just not something I’ve had a lot of experience with, someone standing up for me like that. I had to learn how to fend for myself when I was really young. It’s not an easy mindset to break. But it doesn’t give me the right to act like a bitch.”

Jake leaned back on the couch and tilted his head back. “If I’m being honest, I think I was jealous.” He drew in a deep breath. “I saw that guy practically breathing down your neck and it pissed me the fuck off. He had no right to be that close to my girl, you know? But you were right, you had it under control. I shouldn’t have gotten involved like that. And I don’t think you’re stupid or reckless. That was really shitty of me to say. I’m sorry. I hope you can forgive me.”

Finishing off my drink, I placed the glass on the table and leaned into him. His arm landed across my shoulders, and I rested my head on his chest. “Of course I forgive you. I hope you can forgive me, too. I just need you to trust me, let me do my thing. If you can promise me that you’ll try, I promise to try to let you do your thing, too. To let you take care of me.”

He pulled me into a tight hug and kissed the top of my head. “I can definitely do that.” The beeping of a kitchen timer rang through the room. “C’mon, baby, let’s eat.”

[thinkingaboutlifefornow]

The brave little ghost

Bucky x reader

Chapter 8

Warnings - swearing, mention of violence

(( I know this may feel slow for those waiting for the Bucky parts, but I feel like I need to build certain things up first. If you’re enjoying this please give the post some love 😊 ))

…….

You did eventually leave the shower. You got yourself dressed, your go to clothes at the moment was an over sized jumper of any kind, leggings and some mid calf length socks pulled up over the leggings. You’d been at the compound for around a month now. You felt more comfortable around the people there now, but sometimes you felt out of touch with the conversations going on around you. They would bring up old stories that you should remember, but your brain had been scrambled so often it was hard to piece the puzzles together.

You walked out of your room, down the hall to the main living area and through to the open plan kitchen. You were met with Tony sat at the table drinking coffee and reading articles on the holograms in front of him. He suddenly clicked it off, but not before you caught a glimpse of a masked man and long brown hair. You recognise him anywhere, it’s Winter.

“Morning Sweetie” He quickly greeted you, you smiled at him. You knew he was your dad but your brain still wouldn’t let you relax totally into the father daughter ways. It still felt like you had only just met a stranger.

“Hey Tony, what cha reading?” You asked with a smiley tone, while walking over to counter to pour yourself some coffee.

“Just some files work sent me” he tried to hide his flustered tone.

“Uh hu” you nodded, you didn’t take the conversation any further. Your feelings about Winter were rocky, on one hand he would protect you sometimes and the closest thing you had to a friend while in HYDRA. On the other hand he was as much a killer as you were.

“So therapy starts for you today” he said pointing at you with a click from his fingers at the same time.

“Ah yes, therapy… fixing everyone except for Tony Stark” you rolled your eyes at him.

“I’m sure there are things you went through in there that you need to talk about, and I’m not getting doctor therapy for dead parents… that’s what retail therapy is for” he smiled at you like only a billionaire could.

“I’ll remind myself of that one day.” You said walking off back to your room.

……

A knock at the door made you get up from your sofa, walking cautiously to the door.

“Who is it?” You said with a tone of warning.

“It’s Bruce, can you let me in?” He asked softly

You opened the door, he stood there in a button up shirt and brown pants. You were confused for a moment before realising you must have been late for your first therapy session.

“Oh shit therapy!” You went to run out of your room to make your way to the hospital part of the building. “Thank you for coming to get me, JARVIS can you let the therapist know I’m running a little late” but Bruce didn’t move out of the way.

“Y/n, I thought we could do our therapy sessions in your own room. Maybe you’d feel more comfortable opening up” he said calmly

“Oh you’re having therapy too? In my room? That’s a little weird but um…” you were so confused, but he cut you off with a small laugh.

“No, Tony thought you might be more comfortable speaking to someone you know. I’m not a real therapist, but I guess the main thing of therapy is getting it all out of your head” he held his hand out back towards you room, inviting you to turn around and go back inside.

You turned round, walking back to sit down on the couch and bringing your legs up to sit criss cross. Bruce shut the door behind himself and came to sit on the opposite end.

“So, what’s the first thing in your mind right now?” He asked.

……

“So that’s when I stabbed him in the head” you spoke quietly.

“And how did you feel in that moment?” Bruce asked, he’d been so calm through the whole session. You really started to trust him. You were telling him about your first mission.

“I felt like a robot, but that’s when the emotions started to slip in,” You confessed “I was proud for completing my mission, but I’d just killed someone.” You took a breathe. “I guess now I feel guilty, I shouldn’t have felt pride. My god I knew nothing about these people and I took away their future” tears started to build in your eyes.

He took your hand, which took you a little by surprise.

“You felt pride because that’s how they programmed you.” He was sincere with his words “but you feel guilty now because of who you actually are”

“I was a killing machine” the tears spilled over the edge, running down your cheeks.

“Machine is the key word there, that’s not who you are. That’s the brain washing” he squeezed you hands and something clicked in your brain.

…..

You were crying, you had just broken up with your latest partner. You didn’t want to tell your dad just yet, he would have flown out in one of his suits and blasted the poor boy dead. You went to find Bruce, and he held you as you cried before squeezing your hands and asking “so what flavour ice cream are we getting” with a small smile.

“You’re the best, Uncle Bruce” you smiled at him.

…..

“Thanks Uncle Bruce” the words slipped out of your mouth so easily before you even thought about them, you looked up at him through your tear soaked lashes.

[spamsmcgee]

Yeah, I Like It That Way

-> Any Man of Mine by Shania Twain

Yuki Tsunoda x Fem! Bronc rider reader. post rodeo party, Shy-ish Yuki

Includes: drinking, mentions of two characters being at least buzzed, and implied sex.

Logan Sargeant pushed Yuki ahead of him, the shorter driver stuck between the American and Daniel Ricciardo. The only two drivers so excited to hit a small somewhat local rodeo the same day as the Grand Prix. And one thing led to another as they darkened the doors of a dancehall not twenty minutes away.

The three took their sweet time loosening up before Daniel pushed himself away to start dancing. Yuki excused himself to go pick up some drinks, leaving Logan to wait and watch on.

Mysterious as you could manage, you leaned next to the bar where he’d end up. You waved towards the bartender and pointed towards Yuki with the back of your hand, gaining a nod in response before he went to take care of him.

“You’ve been paid for,” the man said, handing two bottles to him, “have fun.”

You kicked yourself from your spot leaned against the bar, “You look a little far from home”

“What makes you say that?”

His best attempt at a Texas accent could’ve passed for an ambiguous southern accent towards a foreigner. You knew better. His barely contained laughter alone told you that he knew it was bad. And he knew that you knew.

The two of you set the drinks down at the table in front of Logan, and Daniel who had made his way back when he had seen Yuki at the bar for their drinks.

“Howdy” Daniel tipped his own hat towards you, in a much more convincing Texas accent.

“Oh that one’s good,” you said, “where you from?”

The other two, the ones without any skin in the game, introduced themselves. The Australian and the Floridian. Yuki had a more uncomfortable time introducing himself. For him, particularly. The shy look in his eye as you reached for his hat and put it on lit something in you.

Those brown eyes, panicked but intrigued. You could take him somewhere then, maybe that would be too fast. He hadn’t even opened up enough to give you his name. Whisking him away to some hotel already could scare him off. Instead you took his hand and led him on to the dance floor. Away from his friends who stared, first after the two of you then at each other.

Waylon Jennings faded away over the sound system to make way for Shania Twain’s percussion heavy Any Man of Mine. A good song for anyone with little to any line dancing experience.

Your hand never left his. He watched your boots stepping across the floor while your eyes never left him. You nudged him on when he stepped over a little too close, pulled him when he stepped a little too far. Overall he picked the dances up well.

Couples around the two of you swung each other around as the line dancing evolved to more partner focused dances. Some picking up and swinging their partners before setting them down with that rhythmic thud from the cowboy boots.

Yuki took your other hand in his to guide you in a similar dance to what he got to see around you. Turning you, holding you close as the two of you fell in step together. One hand in yours, the other made itself comfortable at your waist. The fast paced music moved on to some slower.

He tapped a finger against the brim of his hat, still on your head. “Didn’t you have one before this?”

“Oh you were watching me?”

Instead of giving an answer he danced around the subject. Sent you for another turn, hand never leaving your waist as he held your hand above your head.

“You confident now?”

Those eyes jumped around the room, the smile on his face drifted. “I’m sorry” he whispered out, letting go of you before disappearing into the crowd.

The two of you had made it to the outside of the dance floor already. It took a couple strides to find some support beam to lean against, watching on as Yuki had found his friends and walked outside behind them.

While he didn’t have to leave so sudden, and the change from dancing with this doe-eyed stranger to being left alone in a crowded hall left you a little more down than you could’ve thought. You still held his hat in your hands, found yourself kicking at the floor. Maybe you could meet him again. He’d stand out in a crowd so he wouldn’t be hard to spot.

Yuki, on the other hand, caught up to his friends. “Sorry, sorry” he grabbed their shoulders, fishing for his keys from his pocket.

“Woah, we called an Uber,” Daniel stopped Yuki’s frantic search.

His eyes moved from Daniel to Logan, both with matching expressions. Narrowed eyes and a smirk, the two glanced back at the building they’d left.

“yeah we figured you’d want to stay” Logan spoke up.

Yuki shook his head, “I don’t know,” he started before looking back at the dancehall doors. “What is it you’re saying?”

“Dude she wants to sleep with you”

“Okay that’s not how I would’ve said that, but sure.” Daniel, the less buzzed of the two said.

“She took the hat, your hat,” before Logan had finished his slurred explanation Yuki turned on his heels and ventured back into the building. He weaved in through the crowds towards where you were leaned up against that beam.

You situated his hat back on your head, giving a nod as his hands found your waist.

“Welcome back cowboy,”

“What does it mean when you took my hat?”

“I got a hotel room to myself, I can show you.”

He nodded, maybe a bit eager, but damn if those doe eyes didn’t make it all that much sweeter.

alphataurif1

Liked by yourinstagram, pierregasly and Others

alphataurif1 Hello Mexico City, we’re ready with alphatauri

yourinstagram Good luck cowboy 🤘🤘

yukitsunoda0511 🤘🤘

logansargeant Are you coming to Vegas? yourinstagram

yourinstagram I’m trying, competition that week in Cheyenne so I’ll be cutting it close

formulawhat Wag? Wag??

somewone idk she said she has a competition so we could have a Yuki Hab

sheesh Okay but she called him Cowboy. I need to know the storyyy

f1fannn Someone please figure out who this y/n is.

ehhhahah Idk, maybe leave them alone. We’ve never seen her before it could be really new

[ironwoman359]

A Thief's Gamble - Ch.9

Every Cloud...

Prev: Ch.8 Caught Red Handed || Next: Ch.10...Has a Silver Lining Fic Masterpost

Fic Summary: Brynjolf is certain that the only way the Thieves Guild will return to its glory days is by bringing in new, talented members. Unfortunately, Mercer doesn't agree, and it's not like Brynjolf's latest attempts at recruiting have gone well. But when he meets a stranger in the marketplace one morning, he's willing to take the risk and bring her on board....only time will tell if his gamble pays off.

Chapter Summary: The Guild is forced to lay low after being exposed by a failed heist, but then Brynjolf receives a cryptic message that sends him on an unexpected job.

Content: Brynjolf POV, Thieves Guild quest spoilers, game typical violence.

Ships: Brynjolf x Dragonborn OC (slowburn)

Word Count: 3,887

Check the reblogs for a link to read on AO3!

— — — 

Gissur’s failure ended up having a far greater impact on the Guild than Brynjolf had expected. Any hope that the heat would die down quickly was dashed as the jarl ordered extra patrols across the entire city. Afraid to run afoul of the guard, most of the Guildmembers were forced to hunker down in the ratway and wait things out. At first the air was charged with tension and whispered conversations, but after days of nothing to do, the heavy weight of boredom began to settle over the Guild. 

Brynjolf kept up appearances in the marketplace, hawking his elixir and gathering information, but even he was beginning to grow antsy. The guards who he normally worked with were avoiding him, and a quick inspection of the hidden caches around the city revealed that most hadn’t even collected their recent payments and orders. What info he was able to gather from his other sources, he couldn’t act on, and he found himself in the Ragged Flagon at the end of each day, as frustrated and bored as his Guildmates. 

“Any change out there?” Delvin asked him one night as he trudged in, and Brynjolf let out a sigh, dropping into a chair across from the old thief. 

“None,” he said. “You’d think they’d grow tired of this constant vigilance after two weeks, but they’ve not budged an inch.”

Delvin whistled. 

“I have to admit, I’m surprised that old Laila is still at it. Surely all the extra wages are gettin’ expensive for her tastes?” 

“Mjoll’s been taking advantage of the situation,” Brynjolf explained as Vekel passed by and handed him a tankard. “She’s using the incident to put pressure on the jarl, and has been riling up the citizens to do the same. Anuriel’s doing her best to counter the movement, but there’s only so much she can do without jeopardizing her position. The way things are headed now, we may have to ask Maven to get involved directly.” 

“Which usually means a hefty donation to the city’s coffers, which Maven is not going to like,” Delvin mused. “And we’re barely back on her good side as it is.”

Brynjolf sighed, and ran a hand through his hair. 

“At least we have a few contacts reaching out in other holds now. Did we manage to send anyone out to that silversmith in Markarth? We may have to write him a letter explaining that our services will be slightly delayed–”

“Didn’t you know?” Delvin interrupted. “Ariene took that job.”

Brynjolf blinked. 

“Ariene took it?” he repeated. “When?” 

Delvin winced.

“The same day Mercer sent her off to Solitude.” 

“And you didn’t think to mention this to me?” Brynjolf demanded, and Delvin held up his hands. 

“I’m sorry mate, I thought you knew. I saw the two of you together that night; I just assumed she’d told you.”

Brynjolf just shook his head. He’d had no idea; Ariene hadn’t shown any sign that she was leaving until Mercer had ordered her to. He stared down at the contents of his tankard, watching the foam slowly dissolve into the body of the ale.

Ariene had been gone for two weeks now, which should have been more than enough time for her to complete her task in Solitude and return home. Assuming, of course, that the weather had been good, that there was no trouble on the road, and that Gulum-Ei had cooperated fully. 

Brynjolf snorted. 

Vex would take Delvin up on his advances before the stars aligned so perfectly on a single job. Even Ariene hadn’t been able to completely shake the string of bad luck that followed the Guild like a shadow. She always managed to narrowly escape disaster, but her jobs so far had been far from simple. 

Still, Brynjolf had secretly been hoping she’d arrive back any day now, even though it was entirely possible that she hadn’t left Solitude yet. Now it turned out that even if she had finished her task in the capital, she wouldn’t be back on the road to Riften until she’d dealt with whatever business there was in Markarth. The silversmith had been vague in his communication, so there was no telling how long she’d be delayed.

Sighing, Brynjolf downed half his tankard in one gulp, then pushed his chair back and got to his feet. 

“Where’re you goin’?” Delvin asked.

“Training room,” Brynjolf grunted, rolling his shoulders. “Where else is there to go?” 

The training room was blessedly empty, and Brynjolf pulled his daggers out of their sheaths. Already the thoughts he’d been pushing down all day were bubbling up to the forefront of his mind. 

What if the jarl made the new guard rotations permanent? What if the Guild’s recent string of good fortune was just a fluke? What if Maven decided to withdraw her support, leaving them at the mercy of Riften’s bureaucracy?

Why didn’t Ariene tell him where she was going?

Brynjolf took a deep breath, flipping his daggers in his hands and letting all the worries swirl through his head, unhindered. 

Then, he swung.

— — — 

For two days, nothing changed. Guards patrolled the streets at all hours, members of the Guild stayed cooped up underground, and Brynjolf spent all day in the marketplace, selling very little elixir and gleaning very little intel. 

A few people came to spar with him in the evenings, which at first he welcomed. It alleviated some of his boredom, but it also reminded him of the last time he sparred with an opponent, and he had to fight to keep a blush from his cheeks every time he thought of Ariene standing inches from him, her hand warm in his and a question as sharp as their blades hovering unanswered between them. 

Thinking those types of thoughts made him lose his bouts, so he did his best to ignore them. 

Then, on the third day, a courier approached him. 

“You’re Brynjolf?” the man asked, walking up to Brynjolf’s stall in the market, and Brynjolf nodded. “I’ve been looking for you. Got something I’m supposed to deliver; your hands only.” 

The man passed him a folded piece of paper sealed shut with wax, then nodded and turned, heading into the Bee & Barb without another word. 

Brynjolf looked at the letter curiously, then cast a glance around the market. He normally didn’t like to read mail out in the open, but no one was paying him any attention, and he hadn’t had a letter come by courier in some time. His usual contacts had other methods of getting their information to him, so a courier meant something interesting. Maybe a new client, or a hot tip about a mark. 

After making sure no one was watching, he broke the wax seal and unfolded the letter, eyes widening when he realized who it was from. 

Brynjolf read the letter, a frown forming on his face. The message was vague, likely on purpose, but he couldn’t see what the point of sending it had been. Was it to let him know that Gulum-Ei had been dealt with and that she was on her way to Markarth? But it said she was heading home now; there was no mention of the other city. Besides, there was hardly a point to sending a message to precede her when she’d take just as long to get to Riften as the letter would. 

He glanced at the date, intending to gauge how long ago she’d sent it, and his frown deepened. 

First of Frostfall. 

It was still the last week of Hearthfire. The first of Frostfall was four days away.

Brynjolf read the letter again, slowly, and the more he read, the less clear it became. As far as he knew, Ariene didn’t have any experience in property at all, and her reference to some kind of deal didn’t make sense, even as a euphemism for the shakedown she’d been sent to perform. Also curious was her use of Gulum-Ei’s alias, even though they both knew his real name and had no reason to hide it. And why would she date it the first of a month that hadn’t even arrived yet– 

Realization struck him, and he scanned the letter again, his blood running cold as he did so. He grabbed the few bottles of elixir he had on display and shoved them beneath the counter, pausing just long enough to lock the stall before he hurried out of the market and towards the graveyard.  

Bursting into the cistern, Brynjolf made a beeline for Mercer’s desk, barely stopping to apologize for startling Cynric into spilling his soup. 

“I’m going to Falkreath,” he announced, and Mercer looked up from his ledgers, surprised. 

“Excuse me?” 

“I’m going to Falkreath,” Brynjolf repeated. “We just received a message from Ariene.” 

“And why exactly does that mean you need to go to Falkreath? She’s supposed to be in Solitude.” 

“She was,” Brynjolf said, passing him the letter. “But now she’s in Falkreath, and needs our help.” 

Mercer scanned the letter, frowning. 

“This doesn’t say anything about Falkreath, Brynjolf.” 

Brynjolf took the letter again, grabbed Mercer’s quill, and circled the first word on each line before handing it back.  

“Please send help,” Mercer read aloud. “Too many bandits, meet me at dead man’s drink.” He looked up at Brynjolf. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am,” Brynjolf insisted. “Dead Man’s Drink is the name of the inn in Falkreath. I don’t know what she’s doing there, but I know that she’s on a job for Endon, a silversmith in Markarth. Whatever that is must involve bandits somehow, and I told her she wouldn’t have to fight an army single handedly. If she’s asking for backup, I’m not going to ignore her.”

Mercer raised an eyebrow at him. 

“Guild first, remember Brynjolf?” 

“She’s part of the Guild,” Brynjolf snapped. “Besides, look at the first meaning of the letter. She got Gulum-Ei to tell her something, and if we leave her to deal with this problem by herself, who knows how long it will be before she gets back here? How many more days are you willing to wait to get the intel? Or perhaps you’d like to send another agent to Solitude? I’m sure Gulum-Ei wouldn’t mind rehashing the story for yet another Guildmember asking nosy questions.” 

“You’ve made your point,” Mercer growled. “I suppose there’s not much to do here in the meantime anyway. But I want you both back as soon as possible. No detours, you understand?” 

Brynojlf nodded, already turning away from the Guildmaster. 

It took him less than half an hour to change into traveling gear and pack his Guild armor, extra knives, and a handful of potions and foodstuffs into an old knapsack. He made his way to the stables, and after a few minutes of haggling, secured a horse for the journey. 

He decided to take the more remote southern road that led past Haemar’s Shame and into Helgen. The northern road around the mountains into Whiterun was safer, but it was already early afternoon. If he took the longer route then he wouldn’t reach Falkreath until tomorrow at the earliest, whereas if he rode his horse hard and was very lucky with the wildlife, he’d be able to take the southern pass through the mountains and reach the hold before dark. 

The late afternoon sun provided little reprieve from the chill of the autumn air, but Brynjolf was used to the harshness of the land. He didn’t particularly care for any of that “Sons of Skyrim” talk that was popular among the Stormcloaks and their sympathizers, but he was still a nord, and this was still his homeland. Riding through the forests that he’d played in as a boy while the wind made golden leaves dance above his head, it was easy to ignore the cold. 

If he’d been on any other job, he might have taken his time to enjoy the scenery, but Ariene’s message was burned into his brain, and he urged his horse faster, cutting through glades and across clearings in places where he was sure of his way. He made good time until the pass through the mountains, where a recent snowfall forced the horse’s pace to slow, but he thankfully had the road to himself until he reached Helgen…or rather, where Helgen had once stood. 

“Shor’s bones,” he whispered, pulling his horse to a halt. 

The small mountain village had been completely decimated. Most of the wall on the east side was still standing, but from his vantage point on the slope, he could see over it to the destruction beyond. 

There wasn’t a single building that had escaped annihilation. Nearly every house had been leveled, leaving behind nothing but a few splintered support beams and lopsided fireplaces sticking out of piles of ash. The stone keep, once one of Skyrim’s southernmost imperial outposts, had been reduced to a few crumbling towers streaked with scorch marks and surrounded by mounds of rubble. 

The worst thing though, was the smell. 

Once, when Brynjolf had been young and foolish and eager to prove himself, he and another footpad had tried to rob a wizard who was known to practice his craft out of a cave north of Shor’s Stone. Heads full of visions of priceless gems and ancient artifacts, they’d tried to sneak into the cave late at night, certain the old man would be sleeping and that it would be an easy heist. 

Brynjolf could still hear the lad’s screams, could still recall the thick, acrid smell of his flesh burning away as he was engulfed in a fireball.

It was that same scent, still detectable on the breeze despite the time that had passed, that revealed the true carnage of the scene before him. 

Nothing but a dragon could have done this, Brynjolf realized with growing horror. 

It was one thing to learn of the attacks, to hear stories of chaos and dragon fire second hand. It was quite another to see the aftermath for himself.

Even with Ariene’s word that she’d seen a dragon, even fought one in Whiterun, a part of him had still been unable to accept that the creatures of myth were really responsible for the attacks. The beasts belonged in children’s tales and legends, not in the real world. Yet here was the proof, plain as day and chilling as the wind: dragons had returned. 

Brynjolf caught sight of movement along the old wall, and tried to push thoughts of legend and doom from his mind. He had more pressing matters to deal with at the moment: namely that a company of bandits seemed to be squatting in the village ruins. 

He almost had to admire their ingenuity; Helgen’s destruction meant that Jarl Siddgeir would have pulled most of the guards from the area, and the remains of the walls and keep gave the bandits a stronger defense than they’d be likely to get in one of the mountain caves nearby. 

Unfortunately, their greatest advantage was now Brynjolf’s biggest problem: the main roads from both the south and the east ran directly through the village, allowing them to pick off any travelers with ease. Brynjolf was a competent fighter, but with no clear idea of how many bandits were camping out behind the wall, he didn’t want to chance an all out fight if he could avoid it.

Too bad no one else is here to appreciate the irony, he thought grimly as he weighed his options. 

If it were any other day, he would have camped out on the side of the road and waited until nightfall to try and pass the bandits by, but today was the one time that he couldn’t afford to be patient. He glanced up at the sun, which was dipping lower and lower in the evening sky. He’d have to think of something quickly, if he still wanted to reach Falkreath before dark. 

Realistically, he only had two options. 

One, dismount and leave his horse behind. If he were on foot, he was confident enough in his ability to sneak past without any of the thugs noticing him. Of course, that meant that he definitely wouldn’t reach Falkreath before the sun went down. But that left him with option two: ride around the village in a full gallop and hope that the sentries posted along the wall wouldn’t shoot him as he came by.  

Brynjolf grimaced. Neither option was particularly attractive, and the longer he sat here deliberating, the later he’d be getting to Dead Man’s Drink. There had to be another way, some hidden solution that would let him keep his speed without risking an arrow in the back. 

“If you have a choice between two locked doors, then start looking for a window.” 

Gallus’s words, his way of teaching footpads to approach problems from unexpected angles. The ability to think outside the box was what separated everyday thieves from the truly skilled…and Brynjolf was nothing if not skilled. 

He thought for a moment more, then quickly dismounted and opened his knapsack, which he’d tied to the back of the horse’s saddle. After a moment of rummaging, he pulled out a small bottle filled with a bright red liquid: a health potion.

He poured a small amount of it out into his cupped hand, then tilted his head back and dripped the potion down his face. He bent down and scooped up a handful of dirt from the path, smearing a line of it across his cheek so it mixed with the liquid into a dark red mud. He took off his cloak, rolling it up and stuffing it in his pack, then reached up and tore one of his sleeves so it hung loosely from his arm. Just for good measure, he slathered more of the dirt onto his arms and neck, adding to his disheveled appearance.

Satisfied, he mounted his horse and nudged it forward again. The ruse wouldn’t hold up under close inspection, but getting closer to the bandits was what he was hoping to avoid. Taking a deep breath, he leaned forward and squeezed his knees into the horse’s side, urging it into a gallop. 

“HELP!” he shouted at the top of his lungs as he sped towards the gates. “HELP ME! IT’S COMING!” 

He saw the bandits stir, saw confusion and alarm on their faces as they watched what hopefully looked like a half crazed man covered in blood barrelling towards them. A few were already drawing their weapons, and he sent a silent prayer to whatever divine cared to listen that these men had heard the same news out of Falkreath that he had.

“HELP! IT’S RIGHT BEHIND ME! WEREWOLF!” he screamed. 

That word changed everything. 

Other panicked shouts joined his own, and the men turned their attention to the path behind him, reading their blades and aiming their bows down the road, which was exactly what Brynjolf wanted. He urged the horse forward, not taking the time to look over his shoulder. He wanted to be long gone before the men realized that there was no creature pursuing him and that they’d let a victim slip through their fingers. 

He kept the horse at a gallop for as long as it could muster, then finally let the beast begin to slow when he was certain there’d been no attempt to follow him.  

Brynjolf chuckled as he wiped the remains of the potion and mud from his face. Even after all this time, there was nothing quite like the feeling of pulling off an impossible plan. It’d been awhile since he’d felt that rush, being cooped up in the cistern doing paperwork most days. The last time he’d really gotten to see a plan come together was when he and Ariene had pulled the frame job on Brand-Shei. He could still recall the look of triumph on the lass’s face when she’d risen from behind the crates and flashed him a thumbs up. 

Looking back, that was the moment that he’d first felt an attraction to her. He’d tried to ignore the feeling, to insist to both himself and his Guildmates that his attention was a purely professional one, but even then he’d known that he was kidding himself. There was something special about Ariene, and she had sparked his interest from the start.

Brynjolf rode into Falkreath just as the sun began to dip beneath the horizon. There was no stable in the sleepy little city, so he tied his horse to a post outside Dead Man’s Drink. He stepped into the inn, eyes already scanning the room for Ariene, and he stopped dead in his tracks when he saw her. 

She was standing in a corner, arms folded defensively as an enormous man in the heavy steel armor of an Imperial Legate bore down on her. 

“–told you, you’re making a mistake,” she was saying, and the man snorted. 

“And I told you that you can’t fool a true nord in his own homeland. Do you think I’m stupid, girl? I know you’re trying to get back across the border. Didn’t expect the legion to have such a strong presence up here in Skyrim did you, you filthy deserter?”  

“How many times do I have to tell you?” Ariene snapped. “I’m here from Riften on business, that’s all. No one in my family has served in the legion for at least three generations. You have the wrong person.” 

“If you really are innocent, then you wouldn’t mind going with a small guard up to Solitude to confirm with the General that you’re not the woman we’re looking for, now would you?”

“And miss out on who knows how many weeks of wages until you’re satisfied that I am who I say I am? I’m not a member of your legion, I’m under no obligation to follow your orders.” 

“Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong,” the man said.

He leaned closer to her, and Ariene took a step backward, stopping abruptly when her back hit the wall. 

“I’m in charge of the city guard here, which means that you can either go with my brigade to meet the general in Solitude, or you can wait for him to come here from the comfort of the Falkreath jail. Your choice.” 

Brynjolf strode forward, grabbing the man by the shoulder and yanking him back, the first lie he could think of spilling from his lips. 

“Is this kinsman bothering you, sister?”  

--- --- ---

Prev: Ch.8 Caught Red Handed || Next: Ch.10...Has a Silver Lining

[radiantlyrey]

TRON Fic: a sort-of sequel AU thing... (Part One)

So, you know that TRON fic I wrote last week [link]? I have been thinking about it, and yesterday I started writing a kind-of sequel to it, wherein Flynn decides to take Alan and Lora to the Grid, and they meet Tron. So. Here are the first 1400 words of that.

~~~

Tron takes the news as stoically as he takes everything, but his mind reels at Flynn’s brief message: “Opening the Portal presently. Guests tonight—Alan and Lora. See you soon.” Alan—he can only mean Alan_1. Coming here, to the Grid. It’s something beyond Tron’s wildest imaginings—and yet also one of his greatest fears. He’s seen firsthand Clu’s growing disillusionment with Flynn, and he doesn’t want to grow equally disappointed with Alan_1. And yet… everything Flynn has said of Alan_1 has been with respect and esteem. Maybe things will go well tonight.

But on the other hand, there’s Clu, who reacts to the message with a glower as dark as a storm cloud. “I swear I understand him less and less,” he says. “The system isn’t ready for guests. And with Flynn showing these Users around, he won’t be attending to any of the problems we’ve had this cycle.”

Tron keeps his expression neutral, and remarks carefully, “I can make excuses for you if you’re busy, Clu.”

“No need,” Clu growls. “I’ll let Flynn know exactly why I won’t be at his beck and call. If he’s even willing to listen.”

“I’ll… get the transport to the Portal output ready, then,” Tron says, which gives him a chance to excuse himself gracefully. Clu waves him off with a scowl.

By the time they leave the admin tower, Clu has managed to calm himself a little, which can only be a good thing. Tron drives to the Portal output in silence, trying not to think of Alan_1, and what it will be like to meet his User face-to-face. He glances at Clu occasionally; he is stony-faced and equally silent, but puts on a genial expression as they reach their destination.

Tron stops the transport outside the “Flynn’s” façade. There’s no sign yet of Flynn (or the other Users), but he climbs out anyway, with Clu following suit. They wait in silence, and Tron desperately hopes that tonight will not end in disaster.

~~~

Alan’s been having a strange night ever since Flynn took him and Lora into the arcade basement, and he has a feeling it’s only going to get stranger. Lora has been peppering Flynn with questions for the last twenty minutes, asking about what, exactly, he’s been using her laser for. The round of questions had opened with Lora slapping Flynn, which had been somewhat gratifying to watch. Flynn was the one who had killed the laser as an Encom Technologies product, after setting Lora the daunting task of miniaturizing the damn thing in six months. At least Flynn hadn’t tried to make excuses after the slap.

But then Flynn revealed he’d been using the laser to digitize himself, and Lora went from angry to confused to horrified to intensely interested. She’s sitting on Flynn’s futon right now, taking notes on a legal pad Flynn handed her, while Flynn explains what he’s been doing inside his private, closed-off system. Alan is standing to her right, his arms folded as he listens, but if he’s being honest, he’s still stuck on being confused. He glances between the miniaturized laser and the Encom console against the wall, trying to fit them together in his mind. Flynn’s been… entering the system? And from the sounds of it, he hasn’t exactly been alone, either. He keeps mentioning programs like they’re people, but that can’t be possible. …can it?

He's staring at the console when Flynn says his name. “Earth to Alan?”

And he’s so unused to hearing his own name from Flynn that it takes a moment to register. “I—what?”

Flynn chuckles. “I think we lost your husband, Lora.”

“He’s used to being lost when I talk about my work,” Lora remarks slyly. “You okay, honey? I know we’re getting a little esoteric, but…”

“I’m fine,” Alan says, though he isn’t really. “But—Flynn, how is this—how is what you’re saying even possible?”

“You mean why didn’t I turn into a fine red mist the second Master Control fired that laser at me?”

“…Yeah.”

Flynn spreads his hands out and shrugs. “Beats the hell out of me, man. But I’m doing a shit job explaining what it’s like in there. Why don’t you guys come with me?” He swivels his chair around and wakes up the console. “I’ll let ‘em know I’ve got guests, it’ll be fine.”

Lora’s expression has turned to one of barely contained excitement, and Alan suddenly feels like someone has to be the voice of reason here. He says, a little annoyed, “Flynn, do we even have time to do this, I mean—”

“You’ve got ten minutes, right?” Flynn glances over his shoulder, grinning. “Time runs differently for them; it’s like an hour in there for every minute out here. We’ve got plenty of time, trust me.”

Alan sees Lora scribbling this down, and has to bite back a sigh. “I just—is this really a good idea? What if something goes wrong?” “If Flynn’s been doing this for four years without incident, I think we’re probably in the clear,” Lora says, setting down the legal pad and taking his hand. “Come on, Alan. Aren’t you even a little curious?”

He wants to say that no, he isn’t, but that would be an outright lie. He is curious, if still a little confused. Flynn’s been talking about changing the world for months now; what is it he’s discovered that’s so earth-shattering?

His silence is telling on him. Lora grins and says to Flynn, “Oh, he’s coming with us.” She pulls Alan along to stand behind Flynn at the console. “What do we need to do?”

“Uh, make sure one of you is in front of the laser, and keep holding hands. And put a hand on my shoulder. It’ll probably be easier if we all go together.” He inputs something on the console, and there’s a lurching noise behind them; the laser is warming up. Alan glances back at it briefly, then puts his other hand over Lora’s on Flynn’s shoulder. Better safe than sorry.

“We ready to go?” Flynn asks.

“Sure,” Alan says, as Lora replies, “Ready when you are.”

“Okay then. Three… two… one…” He taps a key on the console, and then—

For a terrifying moment, Alan is certain he’s falling apart, as though every part of him, every atom, is flying away from the others. But then he feels Lora’s hand in his own, and his other hand atop hers, and Flynn’s cotton t-shirt just beneath his fingertips. He’s still alive, still real, and the panic in his chest subsides, and then—

Alan staggers; Lora half-stumbles into him, and it’s suddenly a struggle to stay upright. With an effort, he manages to get his knees under him, and Lora sags into his chest, laughing. Alan finds himself chuckling as well, out of relief more than anything else. They’re alive—or something like it. He looks around.

They’re in a semi-dark room, roughly the same shape and size as the arcade basement, but barely furnished at all. Flynn is sitting in front of them, at a desk that resembles the Encom console, but there is no laser, no futon, no detritus of human existence. It’s just a room, and Alan frowns as he takes it in.

“Y’all okay?” Flynn asks, getting to his feet. “That first trip can pack a wallop.”

“We’re fine,” Lora says, patting Alan on the chest. “We’re here, right? On your grid? So what are you going to show us first, Flynn?”

“Well, first we gotta meet a couple friends,” he says, clapping them both on the shoulders. “And then we can get some transport and I’ll give you the grand tour. Come on.” He walks past them to the doors on the far end of the room, and Lora follows, tugging on Alan’s arm until he trails behind her. “Tron and Clu should be waiting for us outside. You’re gonna get a kick out of this.” He holds open the door and waves them through.

Alan’s about to say that he’s right here, and he wishes Flynn would give the nickname a rest for once, but then he and Lora step outside and see who, exactly, is waiting for them.

One of them is Flynn—but isn’t Flynn behind them? Alan turns to look over his shoulder, and then the face of the other person registers, and he turns back and stares, open-mouthed.

The other person (program?) has Alan’s face.

“Holy shit,” Alan whispers.

Part Two!!!